Pluto Projector.

Chapter Thirteen.

When Harry, (Y/n), and Neville reached compartment C, they saw at once that they were not Slughorn's only invitees, although judging by the enthusiasm of Slughorn's welcome, Harry was the most warmly anticipated.

"Harry, m'boy!" said Slughorn, jumping up at the sight of Harry. His shiny bald head and great silvery moustache gleamed as brightly in the sunlight as the golden buttons on his waistcoat. "Good to see you, good to see you! Nice to see you again, Miss (Y/l/n). And you must be Mr. Longbottom!"

Neville nodded, looking scared. At a gesture from Slughorn, they sat down opposite each other in the only three empty seats, which were nearest the door. (Y/n) looked around at their fellow guest. She recognized a Slytherin from the year below her only due to the fact he was at Cassius Warrington's Deathday party. He was a tall dark-skinned boy with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes. There were two boys, in (Y/n)'s year if she had to guess, squashed in the corner beside Slughorn. And, looking as though she was not entirely sure how she had got there, Ginny was there.

"Now, do you know everyone?" Slughorn asked Harry, Neville, and (Y/n). "Blaise Zabini in your year, of course—" Blaise did not make any recognition or greeting to Neville or Harry, nor did Harry or Neville, but he did send (Y/n) the briefest of smiles and a nod.
"This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other—? No?" McLaggen, a large, wiry-haired boy, raised his hand, and Harry and Neville nodded back at him. He shot a wink to (Y/n), who gave a flattered smile and looked down, resulting in glares from Harry, Ginny, and Blaise.
"—and this is Marcus Belby, I don't know whether—?" Belby, who was thin and nervous-looking, gave a strained smile, "—and this charming young lady tells me she knows you!" Slughorn finished. Ginny grimaced at Harry, Neville, and (Y/n) from behind Slughorn's back. (Y/n), who sat beside Ginny, took her hand, trying not to laugh.
"Well now, this is most pleasant," said Slughorn cosily. "A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on liquorice wands, and a poor old man's digestive system isn't quite up to such things... Pheasant, Belby?" Belby stared and accepted what looked like half a cold pheasant.
"I was just telling young Marcus here that I had the pleasure of teaching his Uncle Damocles," Slughorn told the new arrivals, now passing around a basket of rolls. "Outstanding wizard, outstanding, and his Order of Merlin most well-deserved. Do you see much of your uncle, Marcus?"

Unfortunately, Belby had just taken a large mouthful of pheasant; in his haste to answer Slughorn, he swallowed too fast, turned purple, and began to choke.

"Anapneo," said Slughorn calmly, pointing his wand at Belby, whose airway seemed to clear at once.

"Not... not much of him, no," gasped Belby, his eyes streaming.

"Well, of course, I daresay he's busy," said Slughorn, looking questioningly at Belby. "I doubt he invented the Wolfsbane Potion without considerable hard work!"

"I suppose..." said Bleby, who seemed afraid to take another bite of pheasant until he was sure that Slughorn had finished with him. "Er... he and my dad don't get on very well, you see, so I don't really know much about..." His voice tailed away as Slughorn gave him a cold smile and turned to McLaggen instead.

"Now, you, Cormac," said Slughorn, "I happen to know you see a lot of your Uncle Tiberius, because he has a rather splendid picture of the two of you hunting nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?"

"Oh, yeah, that was fun, that was," said McLaggen boastfully, glancing to (Y/n as though checking she was listening. "We went with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeous— this was before he became Minister, obviously—"

"Ah, you know Bertie and Rufus too?" beamed Slughorn, now offering a small tray of pies; somehow, Belby was missed out. "Now tell me..."

It was just as Harry had suspected. Everyone here seemed to have been invited because they were connected to somebody well-known or influential— everyone except Ginny and for a moment, Harry believed the same applied to (Y/n) until he remembered that (Y/n) alone cleared Sirius's name and was, therefore, her own influential person. Blaise, who was interrogated after McLaggen, turned out to have a famously beautiful witch for a mother (from what Harry could make out, she had been married seven times, each of her husbands dying mysteriously and leaving her mounds of gold). It was Neville's turn next: Alice and Frank were all that Slughorn could ask about. Slughorn gave the impression that he was reserving judgment on Neville, yet to see whether he had any of his parents' flair.