An Unexpected Visit

By Julia

Horace Slughorn sat in his study waiting. What or who exactly he was waiting for he didn’t know, but he felt sure that someone would be looking for him that evening. He also felt sure that it would have something to do with work, so it was with a feeling of slight annoyance that he entered his study waiting for the floo to burn green. It was a hot muggy July evening, less than one month after the end of the war, and Horace had been very busy since that time. He was among the most well connected people, if not the most connected person, in the Wizarding World, and as a result his skills were hired by the Ministry of Magic to assist in restaffing some particularly corrupt departments. As he continued to wait for the call he was sure was coming he left the comfort of his favorite chair to peruse one of the many bookshelves in his study, looking for something to occupy his mind as he passed the time. Before he could select a book the flames erupted behind him and he turned, surprised to see Draco Malfoy’s pale face in the fire.

“Good evening, Professor,” said Draco. “Do you have some time? I’d like to talk to you.”

“Certainly, Draco,” he responded. “But call me Horace, old boy. I’m not your professor anymore.”

Draco had changed considerably since the war. The Dark Side’s loss hit him hard, but Horace could tell that more was troubling the young man. Horace was sure that being on the losing side of a war wouldn’t cause such a change in Draco. His ego had certainly taken a hit, but the Draco he knew would have continued to strut around arrogantly, continuing to believe the Malfoy name would command some respect, and blaming the other side for not understanding how Pure Blood society should function. But that was not the case. No, it seemed the change was more due to maturity. Draco seemed to have come to the realization that his father could not fix everything. That realization is hard for everyone, but for it to come at seventeen as the result of a war, well, Horace was hardly surprised that Draco was looking thinner and paler than usual these days.

“How are you Draco?” Horace asked.

“I’ve been better, but I guess I’m ok,” Draco responded, and Horace was surprised at how humble and depressed he sounded.

“Well that’s something,” Horace said, returning to his favorite chair. “Have a seat. What can I do for you?”

“Well sir, I don’t know what to do next year. I never thought about what to do after school, I assumed that I wouldn’t have to work as I’d come into a great deal of money,” said Draco as he too sat down.

“And the war changed that?”

“No, I got the money my father had set aside for my graduation. But I want to do something with my life, not just spoil my future children rotten and make them think that money is the key to power only to have that particular run pulled out from under them,” Draco said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

Horace chuckled and helped himself to a slice of crystallized pineapple before replying. “Well Draco, do you have any idea what you’d like to do?”

“No,” he said, looking at his feet.

“Hm, a challenge,” said Horace, stroking his moustache. Not to worry, we’ll find you the perfect job. What are your strengths?”

“I was good at potions, and Quidditch. I was pretty good in charms too, especially at hexing people who got in my way,” Draco said sounding exceedingly frustrated with himself. He tapped his foot on the ground as he spoke, a sure sign of his irritation.

He chose to ignore the hexing comment. “Quidditch, you say?” Maybe you could work I the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I have excellent contacts in that department. Old Ludo Bagman and I have been friends for years! I’m sure he’d love to have you on board!” Horace couldn’t keep himself from smiling. Making connections and arranging jobs for people was one of his favorite things to do. Though he had to admit to himself that he thoroughly enjoyed the benefits of having people in his debt for such things, he really did take pleasure in helping people get on their feet in the Wizarding World. He took pride from knowing that his former students had successful lives and he took pride from his part in that.

“Well Sir, I don’t think I’d like to work for the Ministry. I never thought I’d say this,” he took a steadying breath and stopped tapping his foot, “but since the war I’ve been rather embarrassed of my family, and I’d like to get away from my father’s influence for a while.”

Horace hadn’t been expecting that, and his mood took a turn for the sullen. “Draco, you should be proud of the way your family behaved during that last battle. They gave up the cause to look for you. Why does that embarrass you?”

Draco snorted loudly and rolled his eyes at his former professor, becoming increasing agitated with each passing moment. “I’m not embarrassed about that, you idiot,” he said, a hint of his old arrogance coming back. He shot up from his chair and started pacing the room, as he spoke louder and more forcefully. “We lost, Slughorn. The Malfoys lost, and everyone knows it. We’re an embarrassment to the Wizarding World and for what? For what? I don’t even know.”

The professor helped himself to another piece of pineapple as he gathered his thoughts. He was honestly surprised that Draco displayed such maturity, and such passion. He never knew him to possess either. “I think, perhaps, some time away from your family would benefit you. It will give you a chance to gain your footing and your perspective now that things have changed so drastically.”

“You mean go abroad?” Draco asked, calming down and retaking his seat. He seemed interested at the thought and a spark of his old mischievousness appeared in his eyes. It was some time before he spoke again. “Thank you Sir. I think I’ll go now.” He stood and shook Horace’s hand. “You’ve been helpful.” And with that, Draco reached into his robes for his floo powder, threw some into the flames, and disappeared.