Horace Slughorn came to this meeting at the request of Albus Dumbledore, his very old friend. He and Dumbledore started teaching at Hogwart's at about the same time, and even though they were different in some aspects, they became good friends, and still were to this day. The Hog's Head was owned by Albus' brother, Aberforth, and he knew why Albus picked it--it was a trustworthy place. Aberforth would keep any unwanted eyes and ears away from them. He shoved open the doors and turned sideways, as to allow his wide girth to come through. For once, he was understated in his dress: a large, button-down white shirt and loose-fitting black pants. Normally the loud, boisterous type, he had to be inconspicuous.

He glanced around the inside until he noticed Dumbledore and Filius at the back of the Hog's Head. Smiling widely, he scuffled quickly across the dirt floor to the table. "Ah, Albus, Filius." He nodded his head in greeting, and laughed quietly at the large chair next to Albus. "I see you took it upon yourself to provide me with the necessary chair. Thank you...now if I can just have some wine, I'll be all set." He mumbled a quick "Excuse me," as he made his way around the table and sat down. That was when he noticed the visitor at their table; apparently, he'd gotten there before Slughorn did.

"My goodness...Mister Lestrange? M'boy, you look better than ever!" One of his favorite students, he was a member of his Slug Club, and introduced him to contacts within the Ministry of Magic. Hopefully, he used those contacts to suit his career. "How are you? Sit down, sit down for a moment." Motioning to a chair, he glanced at Albus. "He could stay for a few minutes, till everyone else arrives, can he not?" Slughorn was woefully in ignorance as to the exactness of the meeting; he just knew it would be important. Otherwise it would never have been called.