Detention?
Slughorn froze, staring at Harry in confusion. "Harry, I don't recall assigning you detention."
"You perford excellently."
"How could a student like you possibly earn a detention?"
Harry began to explain, "Professor Slughorn, it's not the kind of detention you're thinking of. It's a new tradition at Hogwarts in recent years. Every professor gives 'detention' to students they deem exceptional."
"Though we call it detention, it's actually more like tutoring."
Slughorn looked skeptical. "Really?"
The trio all nodded quickly.
"Even Severus does this?" he asked.
Slughorn and Snape didn't exactly have the warst relationship. Back when Slughorn had taught, he'd paid little attention to Snape. At the height of Voldemort's influence, half-bloods held little status in Slytherin. Slughorn had always favored students of prestigious lineage.
Of course, he also prized exceptional talent.
Snape was indeed gifted, but he wasn't a stand-out—at least not in the presence of Lily Evans.
In terms of looks, the beautiful Lily was far more eye-catching than Snape.
In terms of personality, Lily's bright, sunny disposition was infinitely more appealing than the brooding boy from Slytherin.
Before fifth year, she was often seen discussing potions with Snape, and to the image-conscious Slughorn, it had looked like Lily was simply dragging a gloomy shadow along. He'd chalked Snape's aptitude up to Lily's brilliance and overlooked him.
Snape had never been invited to the Slug Club.
By the ti Slughorn realized Snape's true potential in potion-making, he'd already left Hogwarts—and Snape had since beco a recognized Potions Master.
That didn't stop Slughorn from now warmly calling him "Severus."
Harry nodded. "Of course Professor Snape does. But as you know, Professor Snape is very particular. So far, I'm the only one deed worthy of his detention."
"But Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout have already given several detentions."
"Really?" Slughorn hesitated. "But I don't have much experience with that..."
"Professor, do you think I'm not quite good enough yet?" Harry looked up, expressionless—but Slughorn could clearly detect a flicker of pitiful appeal in his eyes.
Stoic but pleading.
Such a bizarre contradiction.
Slughorn imdiately shook his head. "Of course not, Harry. You're one of the most outstanding students I've ever t."
"Then shall we set detention for every Tuesday?" Harry asked promptly.
Slughorn sighed—he didn't even get a chance to decline.
Harry smiled. "Professor, we won't take up any more of your ti. See you Tuesday."
With that, the trio turned and hurried off.
Slughorn stood there speechless, then decided to knock on Professor McGonagall's door.
"Yes, Professor Slughorn?" McGonagall had just finished a class with so third-years.
"Harry just ntioned sothing about detention," Slughorn began. "He said it's a new Hogwarts custom..."
McGonagall pursed her lips and nodded solemnly. "Indeed. It's true."
"Professor Dumbledore's been far too lax."
"Last year's O.W.L. scores were excellent, but that was due to Harry. It wasn't a realistic trend. This year's results may revert back."
"As professors, we must nurture promising students, ensure they consistently earn 'O's. Professor Sprout even takes on 'E' students and tries to help them reach the next level."
Slughorn countered, "But Harry is already excellent."
"Compared to other students, yes," McGonagall said seriously. "But gifted individuals often set higher standards for themselves."
"Right now, Harry is practically a dueling master, a Transfiguration master, a Defense Against the Dark Arts master."
"And his potions work has always been stellar—surely he doesn't asure himself by ordinary student standards."
Slughorn raised his brows. "Harry's Transfiguration is already at master level?"
He wasn't surprised by "dueling master" or "Defense master"—Harry had defeated Voldemort, after all.
But Transfiguration?
McGonagall nodded. "Absolutely. His Transfiguration work is refined and precise. He's still young, but in two or three years—maybe even sooner—he may surpass ."
Slughorn looked contemplative. "Is Harry hoping to beco a Potions Master?"
"One even younger than Severus?"
McGonagall smiled. "I believe that's exactly what he's aiming for."
In truth, she wasn't entirely sure.
Harry wasn't particularly ambitious. Based on what she'd heard recently, this was probably because he and Snape had hit a bottleneck in their research to cure lycanthropy. With another Potions Master now at Hogwarts, Harry clearly wanted to rope him in—let Slughorn do the hard work, all within the safe walls of Hogwarts. No risk of word getting out.
And Hogwarts' intelligence network, run by Hedwig, Crookshanks, and their loyal owl minions, was airtight.
Still, such honesty wouldn't sound very good.
And Snape's involvent in lycanthropy cure research wasn't widely known—even within the Order of the Phoenix.
Most importantly—
No new professor should escape this particular Hogwarts tradition.
Even if Harry hadn't co forward, McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick would've figured out how to steer Slughorn into voluntarily offering "detention" and experiencing Harry's charm for himself.
Slughorn thought his teaching career was already fulfilling.
He'd taught many outstanding students, for better or worse.
But the one student he'd hoped to see beco a Potions Master—Lily Potter—had died fighting Voldemort.
And the one who did beco a Master—Snape—was never in the Slug Club.
For a Potions professor, nothing beats the pride of personally training a future Potions Master.
"Harry's more driven than I was at his age." Slughorn smiled. "I'm looking forward to tomorrow evening."
McGonagall suppressed a grin. "How wonderful. I hope you have a very enjoyable evening."
A aningful blessing.
Slughorn didn't notice the subtle shift in her tone. He was too busy reveling in the thrill of ntoring a future Potions Master.
Tuesday evening.
Dinner had just ended—it was only 7:00 PM.
There ca a knock at the Potions office door.
Slughorn opened it, surprised. "Harry? It's only 7:00. You're early."
"Detention always starts now," Harry replied softly. "From 7 until curfew at 11."
Four hours?
That long?
Slughorn nodded and stepped aside. "I don't know much about this 'detention' thing, but I'm very glad you're so eager. I'll teach you everything I know."
"My deepest thanks, Professor." Harry spoke quickly, eyes calm.
He raised his wand with a flick. "Professor, I'd like to report the issue I'm currently stuck on."
"You know I have an uncle—Remus Lupin."
Slughorn nodded.
He rembered Lupin well—not because he was exceptional, but because he was the only one in his year with such disgraceful lineage. Even Snape, as a half-blood, was at least fully human.
"He's a werewolf. I've been researching a cure for lycanthropy for over a year now."
Slughorn blinked in surprise. "That's no small task. I wouldn't advise pursuing it. Many talented individuals lose years chasing the impossible. Treating lycanthropy... it's just not—"
"I've already made so progress," Harry interrupted calmly.
Slughorn was even more shocked.
Harry continued, "Here's the result."
He pulled out a potion and set it before Slughorn, along with a parchnt containing the formula.
"It's not a complete cure yet," Harry explained. "But it achieves effects comparable to Wolfsbane—plus it shortens the transformation ti. Though the duration varies."
"For Lupin, it reduces the nightly transformation to just five or six hours."
"For others, it ranges—half an hour, one hour, nearly two. We think it depends on the werewolf's magical capacity, but there's no evidence yet."
Slughorn sniffed the potion, waving his hand to catch the scent.
A brilliant brew—mature, nearly perfect.
"You've already got the makings of a true master." Slughorn set down the bottle, though he kept hold of the formula. "Had you not gone down this path, you might already be a certified Potions Master. Did you ask Severus?"
"Professor Snape doesn't cut it," Harry said calmly. He wasn't sure of Slughorn's loyalties yet—and wouldn't trust soone so opportunistic.
"He's still young, lacking your depth of experience and mastery."
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