"I'm certainly not Slughorn," he says in a mild, look, this is me being agreeable and not taking anyone's bait at all voice, and reaches for his coat, which has all the hidden pockets he could want and only makes him look, with his current face, like he's adopted beyond-retro as a surprisingly workable style choice. "No, you oughtn't to;" he agrees, putting it on, "let the animals take care of it. That's a natural consequence of their appearance."