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After grabbing a quick bite in the Great Hall, Severus Snape and Patrick Abbott made their way to Professor Slughorn's office.
The office was far larger than the typical teacher's room, furnished with two plush, winged armchairs and six or seven smaller chairs arranged around them.
Slughorn stood holding a small glass of wine, chatting warmly with a red-haired wizard.
"Welcome, my boys!" Slughorn called out enthusiastically the moment Snape and Abbott stepped through the door.
From his posture and the glint in his eyes, it was clear he was more eager to see Abbott than Snape.
Snape handed Slughorn a box of candied pineapple, ordered through the owl post.
"Oh, thank you, Severus," Slughorn said warmly.
"Let me introduce you. This is the renowned Auror Fabian Prewett. Gideon couldn't make it tonight—work, you know. Such a pity."
The wizard beside Slughorn raised his glass in greeting. Snape noticed a gold watch on his left wrist, its surface marked with faint scratches. The watch face had no hands, only a few stars that seemed to dance across it.
"Good evening, Mr. Prewett," Snape said, stepping forward to greet him. "I don't know why, but you remind me of Mrs. Molly Weasley. You look quite alike."
"You know Molly?" Fabian's serious face broke into a smile. "She's my sister."
"Ah, that explains it. Over the summer, my mother and I visited the Burrow. We met little Percy—such a darling boy."
"That lad's got a bright future ahead of him!" Fabian said proudly. "Last time we saw him, he was staring wide-eyed at the Ministry's wireless broadcast. And he's barely a month old!"
Snape pressed his lips together, fighting back a laugh.
He coughed a few times to cover it.
"Ahem, ahem—absolutely, Bill, Charlie, and Percy are all fine children!"
As they spoke, other students began to trickle in.
"Come, children, take a seat. Everyone's here now," Slughorn called, motioning for them to gather around him and Fabian. "Lily, you sit here."
Lily took the seat to Slughorn's right.
Snape sat with Dirk Cresswell, a fifth-year Hufflepuff who was fluent in Goblin, Mermish, and Troll, among other languages, between him and Lily.
Lily glanced briefly to the side before turning her head away.
Slughorn reclined in his armchair, introducing Fabian Prewett's accomplishments to the group.
"It's not every day we get a hero like this. If you have any questions about Aurors or the Ministry, now's your chance to ask."
Fabian rubbed his nose, looking slightly uncomfortable with Slughorn's praise.
Slughorn sipped his wine, his other hand rifling through the box of candied pineapple Snape had brought.
"Children, don't be foolish when it comes to choosing a career. I always recommend the Ministry—it's a solid, respectable path."
He pointed a sugar-frosted finger at Snape.
"Severus, you'd make a fine Auror. Don't let this opportunity slip by."
"I'd be happy to have you intern with us next year," Fabian said with a smile. "Just pick the right N.E.W.T. courses, and I'll take care of the rest."
"Thank you, Mr. Prewett, thank you so much," Snape said, nodding repeatedly. Becoming an Auror didn't sound like a bad idea at all.
"And you, Dirk," Slughorn turned to Dirk Cresswell. "With your knack for Gobbledegook, you should consider the Goblin Liaison Office. I could introduce you to their director."
"But steer clear of the Centaur Liaison Office, you hear me?"
"Professor, isn't that also under the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures?" Dirk asked, looking puzzled.
"I bet Mr. Prewett knows the answer to that one," Slughorn said with a chuckle, glancing at Fabian.
Fabian exchanged a knowing smile with Slughorn. "Centaurs aren't fond of talking to wizards. They're more likely to give you a swift hoof to the face than a civil conversation."
"If you end up at the Centaur Liaison Office, your first task should be finding a new job—fast."
Whether genuine or not, everyone burst into laughter.
For the rest of the evening, they eagerly asked Fabian about the ins and outs of being an Auror and working at the Ministry.
Slughorn chimed in with additional details, especially when it came to Ministry gossip, where he seemed to know far more than Fabian.
Suddenly, a sharp knock came at the office door, and Filch stormed in, dragging James Potter by the arm.
"Professor Slughorn," Filch panted, his jowls quivering with each word, his goldfish-like eyes gleaming with the manic delight of catching a student in the act.
"I found this boy skulking outside your door. Claims he was invited to the party but got held up. Did you send him an invitation?"
James wrenched his arm free from Filch's grip, looking furious.
"Fine, I wasn't invited," he snapped. "I was trying to crash it. Happy now?"
"No, I'm not happy!" Filch retorted, though his smug expression suggested otherwise. "You're in trouble now! Didn't the Headmaster say no wandering about at night without permission, eh?"
"It's alright, Argus, it's alright," Slughorn said, waving a hand dismissively. "Wanting to join the party isn't a crime. Let it slide this time—just don't do it again. Potter, you can stay."
"I wouldn't stay if you begged me!" James shouted, pointing at Snape. "Why does he get to be here?"
"I think I understand what Mr. Potter means," Snape sighed. "Perhaps he feels that being in the same room as someone with Muggle blood, like me, is an insult to his sense of civility and breeding."
"I didn't say that! I'm not—" James sputtered, his words tripping over each other. "How dare you, you slimy git!"
Slughorn frowned.
Snape gasped, as if shocked by James's outburst.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter. I had no idea you held such strong prejudices against half-bloods or those with Muggle heritage."
"Enough," Slughorn cut in before James could respond, pointing to the door. "Argus, escort him back to his dormitory."
"No punishment?" Filch asked, his face a mix of indignation and disappointment as he grabbed James and shuffled off, muttering under his breath.
Even after the door closed, James's angry curses echoed down the corridor.
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