45 Harry Potter : Chapter 45: Turning Point IV

"It's merely a place where I study potions." Hagrid shook his head, enjoying the outrageous nature of the paper-thin difference.

"If some of those concoctions have effects that can be described as... entertaining, well, that's still something new I've learned about."

...

The four students followed Slughorn while Orion frowned at the easy camaraderie present among McGonagall, Riddle, and Hagrid. He knew something about their academic results, after all, Hogwarts was only so big, but he wouldn't have imagined that the three were acquainted, never mind friends.

Just how had they got to know each other? Surely it wasn't Slughorn's work, Rubeus was barely old enough to make an appearance in the Slug-Club, and neither Quidditch nor any other study-related club had any of the three as a member.

Orion made it his business to know students that could eventually become particularly useful in any given field.

And while Riddle's exceptional wandwork and Outstanding marks were just barely less known than Minerva's success in Transfiguration, even Hagrid's gift for Potions wasn't enough to offer an answer to the relaxed friendship that the Black Heir could clearly see.

Slughorn silently led them through a door and into his private quarters, where he stopped next to a cabinet placed a few steps from a lit fireplace.

The small living room still presented the refined taste of a Slytherin, but where the room hosting the events for the Slug-Club was defined by its elegance, the new space Orion found himself in was heavily leaning towards comfort as its main purpose.

Thick carpets, dainty poufs were paired with plush armchairs, and small couches were placed strategically in order to allow many comfortable places where a wizard could simply relax reading a book or nursing a pick-me-up.

The light of the full moon entered through a narrow and tall window at such an angle that it refracted against a crystal chandelier floating just under the ceiling, and the contrast between the distant astral body and the warming lit fireplace painted the whole room with a quality that could only be defined as ethereal.

"Well, I might have been on the receiving end of some of Rubeus' most successful attempts." Professor Slughorn openly confessed as he opened the liquor cabinet.

"Luckily, some of these are as light as butterbeer, while being much more interesting, and conductive to much more refined conversations, what would you suggest, my boy?"

Hagrid lumbered next to the fireplace and silently enlarged one of the armchairs: "After a night like this I'll go with a generous serving of New Sickle."

Orion blinked in open surprise at how accomodating Slughorn was being, but following the budding talent for politics that his parents didn't neglect nurturing, he simply rolled with the punches: he sat next to Riddle on a low couch in front of a glass coffee table and accepted the Potion Professor's suggestion when it came to choosing a beverage.

Minerva proceeded to quietly wave her wand, conjuring a couple of matching armchairs for herself and the professor, who, always the consumed and graceful host, arranged the seating so that the small group of Slytherin wizards -plus Gryffindor witch- described a misshapen half circle around the table, leaving the lit fireplace on one side.

Orion didn't bother to hide his appreciation of the witch's skill: "I don't need to be in a NEWT course of Transfiguration to know how remarkable that is."

Slughorn sank into the armchair with a deep, satisfied sigh that temporarily ballooned out his already prominent belly.

"I see why Albus is always so eager to praise you, dear Minerva, this is truly advanced Transfiguration." turning his attention to the other wizards, the Potion Master smiled openly.

"A profane of the art might think that she conjured armchairs and then enchanted them, but that isn't quite what you did, is it?"

Hagrid placed on the coffee table the tall glass containing a silvery liquid that Slughorn had provided him with, not bothering at all with disguising his interest: "Anything to with the surprise you mentioned?"

Orion consciously stopped himself from letting his jaw hang open in surprise as the Gryffindor witch proceeded to excitedly explain what some of her last Dumbledore-sanctioned experiments with Transfiguration were about, the reasoning and the examples largely going above the Black Heir's understanding of the subject. Is she saying what I think she is?

"Basically, you transfigured some of the light from the fireplace into 'comfort' while you were conjuring the armchairs?" Hagrid's open curiosity spared Orion the small humiliation of having to ask for clarification, and McGonagall's self-satisfied smirk was answer enough.

"How far can you stretch an Ideal to generate a contradictory Shape?" Riddle's smooth voice reminded Orion of his presence, while Slughorn appeared happy to let the exchange play out, "Arguably, even Hagrid could brew a poison with daises as main ingredient, but it wouldn't be terribly powerful, I think."

"It wouldn't." the Potion teacher cut in before the unnaturally tall Slytherin could zero in on the dubious nature of the 'even' uttered by the Slytherin perfect.

"Working with an ingredient's nature is what makes potions more refined than, let's say, enchanting a mirror so that it could act as a knife."

McGonagall sipped from her beverage for a couple of seconds before answering, nursing her words with care as she tried to simplify a concept that she understood almost instinctively.

"Usually, the Shape follows the function. There are cross-transfigurations that..." she sighed, looking for the words that for the moment escaped her.

"I believe Albus once produced a lion out of a decent-sized rock," Slughorn came to aid the witch, "the construct was clearly an animation of a transfigured, inanimated object, and yet it was lively while retaining the unyielding properties of the stone."

"Ah." Hagrid nodded slowly, his eyes slightly unfocused as he parsed what he had been told, while Riddle seemed to find confirmation of an idea he already had.

This is a far-reaching implication of a more or less simple concept. Orion thought idly, having gotten the gist of what the Gryffindor witch had attempted to explain, only to return his focus to the interlocutors Slughorn had organized for him to meet with: the witch was a half-blood with no connections whatsoever, but so talented as to achieve the status of Animagus before her OWLs.

The freakishly tall, younger Slytherin was much the same only in regards to Potions, only he was further burdened by the Engorging Brew that caused his eye-catching size. In the end, there was Tom Riddle: poor as they came, but undeniably bright.

"Purpose is derived through the symbol you need to perform any piece of magic." Orion spoke idly, fishing some obscure nugget of knowledge in order to make clear that he wasn't academically less capable than the other people present.

"The most powerful application of a Fidelius, for example, can, in theory, be achieved only when cast upon a place lacking any other form of defense."

"That's a very rare Charm." praised Slughorn, a greedy glint in his eyes, "And not something that many of your age can hope to understand the intricacies of.

Not something that anyone researches for the sake of research, to be honest... I wonder, might you be thinking about using it upon one of your family's properties? I heard that Lord Black recently purchased a townhouse in London."

Not likely, not when I have the might of Black wards to rely upon. "Perhaps." Orion contented himself with smiling mysteriously, his eyes temporarily washing over the other three underage people present, finding that they were already looking at him with newfound respect. It's too easy to get in the graces of the academically inclined.

Almost like misshapen reflections, the other two Slytherin students took a gulp from their respective beverages, their eyes meeting each other over the brim of their chalices.

The Black Heir didn't miss the brief but somewhat heavy stare that Riddle and Hagrid exchanged before the latter outright asked, turning his shoulders fully towards Orion.

"I didn't have the time to study it in depth yet, but how does the passing of the secret work? And how does the Keeper maintain it safe? Occlumency?"

Just who is this Hagrid to mention the Mind Arts so casually? "The Keeper must be wanting to reveal the Secret." the Black Heir replied with a frown, barely controlling his knee-jerk reaction while a part of him searched his memories.

"The tome I've learned this from didn't specify further."

"Occlumency?" the Gryffindor witch asked as she finished her drink, placing the empty glass on the coffee table.

"That'd be because the Secret is concealed within the soul of the keeper!" Slughorn smiled widely at his students while he ignored Minerva's immediate question, before his expression became somewhat more sheepish.

"I'm a purveyor of the esoteric, very much like you appear to be, Rubeus, just where have you heard of the Mind Arts?"

The unnaturally tall student smiled guilelessly at the potion professor while he rolled his humungous shoulders.

"I seem to have forgotten all about that, but while we are on this topic, just how is the mid related to the soul?"

"Ah, you don't ask small questions, do you?" Slughorn openly laughed, his belly quivering while he leaned back in the conjured armchair.

"We think, so we have a mind, we move, so we have a body, we cast spells, so we have magic, and we can leave ghosts behind, so we have a soul. But defining the soul... that's not something that has been achieved yet, I think."

"I read that the mind exerts Will, the body has strength, magic holds Power, and that the soul is a reflection of them all."

"A curious way to put it." Slughorn's eyes widened with undisguised interest.

"But not an incorrect one, I think, there have been instances that might support such a fuzzy definition... alas, this matters hardly lend themselves to clear boundaries, it is one of the beauties of Potion Making, I believe."

"To answer, your question, Miss. McGonagall, Occlumency is one of the two branches of the Mind Arts." Blatantly changing topic, the Head of House Slytherin returned his focus to the Gryffindor witch, which smiled gratefully now that her blurted-out question was being addressed.

"In particular, Occlumency deals with the magical defense of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one."

Ever bright, Minerva didn't take long to catch the implications: "You mean that some people could just read my mind?"

"And why isn't Occlumency taught at Hogwarts?" Minerva didn't bother hiding her frown, "I'd think that such a skill should be made available to any wishing for it!"

"Yes, I wonder why the existence of a way to keep your thoughts concealed might be kept under wraps." Hagrid's rumbling chuckle just oozed sarcasm.

"Perhaps you could ask Professor Dumbledore to teach you, I bet he's frightfully good at it, with a brain like his... more importantly, I wonder if there is a way to make use of your Animagus to help you along the way."

Who the hell thinks like this? Orion arched an eyebrow in the direction of the unnaturally tall Slytherin student, who leaned back in his seat as an answer, his open smile the only answer he was willing to give to the Black Heir's silent question while McGonagall's expression clearly stated that the idea caught her interest.

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