Inside the temporary casualty station in Hogsmeade, the atmosphere was somewhat heavy. Accompanied by the whispers and groans of the wounded, the air was filled with a mixed scent of herbs and fresh blood.
Slughorn sat on a rickety wooden chair, his face full of exhaustion, though his tone was laced with a hint of exaggeration and excitement, as if he wanted to ease everyone's tension by recounting his own experience.
"Oh, I really didn't expect an old fellow like me to run into something like this!"
Chapter 211