What if it had been me? I thought. What if the copy of Advanced Potion-Making Harry had received from Professor Slughorn had fallen into my hands instead? Oh, yes, I knew about that book, and I knew there was something special about it. At lunch, I had watched Harry toy with it and show his red-haired friend its contents. I had even overheard some of the spells it contained along with some of the potion making tips, some of which I was now using, but I never dared whisper the spells. They sounded frightening and Dark, but even though I did not care for them I continued to sit as close to Harry at the Gryffindor table as possible until a strange buzzing filled my ears and I could no longer hear what they were saying.
What if it had been me? I had interesting ways of eavesdropping on people, and even though Harry was completely grateful for the book, after some unspoken incident that involved a Slytherin boy named Draco Malfoy almost dying, or so he bragged, he trusted it a little less. I listened in on the Slytherins as much as I did the Gryffindors, and I learned many things about both of them. Sometimes Padma Patil, who was older than me but was never mean to me, would reprimand me when she caught me eavesdropping, and would suggest I do something fun. But all I wanted was to learn about everyone and everything. That was something fun, but it seems to induce people to regard me as a reporter of sorts. One girl, a certain Hermione Granger, in fact gave me a horribly murderous look at breakfast upon me asking about her previous day. She must hate reporters.
What if it had been me? I was soon to find out.
It was a rainy Tuesday, the day the book finally fell into my hands. Harry had left it behind in his sixth-year potions class. I had the class next, third-year potions. Slughorn greeted me happily as I walked in the door.
"Ah, Kinna! Good to see you again, my accomplished young friend!" I blushed slightly and walked on to my seat. I did so loathe the attention given to me by my new portly Potions master, but I suppose anyone and everyone was better than Snape, the surly, practically evil man who taught last year. He had constantly deducted Ravenclaw's points for me being too "quick to answer" or because my responses were "memorized from the book." Now he taught D.A.D.A, which really was just as bad because his practical work was either wildly difficult or absent and his essays were complicated. And worse than all of these were the punishments, but usually the incompetence of the students to complete the tough assignments and the consequences went hand in hand. I remember clearly the day a Gryffindor boy in my class, Dennis Creevey, shouted (well, more like squeaked) out in class after a particularly long lecture.
"Hey, do you think we're seventh years or something?"
Snape gave him a detention every night for a week.
But all thoughts of Snape and, frankly, everything else, were pushed from my head as I saw it lying there, just under the desk.
Advanced Potion-Making. Someone had left it behind, and I hoped madly that it was the old book Harry had been taking orders from. But unfortunately the cover looked brand new, and I was thinking of returning it to Slughorn when it fell open and tiny, cramped writing filled my eyes.
Don't judge a book by its cover…
I flipped through the pages, elation filling me as my classmates all filed in. I was excited, as I had quite an idea of what secrets its pages held. I began skimming over it, enjoying the various amusing tips and hints in the margins, when Professor Slugorn's booming voice ricocheted off the stony dungeon walls and flew into my ears.
"Good day to you, class. Today we will be making a moderate-strength love potion. However!" If anyone had not been paying attention, their heads were now snapped up and they were staring at Slughorn intently.
"This potion is not particularly strong, it can be dangerous to make if done incorrectly and even more so to fool around with. If I see any of you, and I mean any of you, toying with it, especially but not limited to slipping each other the potion, there shall be serious consequences." We had Potions with the Gryffindors, so some giggles were heard among us. I even heard a few chortle a good-natured, "He should be an actor." Prominent among those was a squeaky, choked gasp which meant that Dennis Creevey had apparently taken the warning a little too seriously. Slughorn, after this display, looked suddenly positively cheerful, and he told us that the instructions were on page 169 of our Potions books.
I turned to 169 in Advanced Potion-Making.
It just happened to explain how to make a love potion too, but one called Amortentia that was supposedly immensely strong. It appealed to me because anybody glancing at me would see me making a love potion as well, and no one would suspect anything unless they stared at length into my cauldron. This page was sparse in notes, but a few scribbled extra-messily here and there made me think that maybe the previous owner was not too interested in love potions. However I followed the instructions carefully, and did exactly what the scribbles told me, when they intervened. I'm not really sure what made me want to trust the book, but I did, and the results seemed to be working out well.
First off, the instructions said, "Pour one pound of powdered dragon scales into cauldron at the same time as the ounce of flobberworm juice." However, the previous owner demanded that they be poured exactly seven seconds apart. This was more precise and demanding but seemed crucial, so I was about to do it. Then remembered that Slughorn had said how disastrous a weaker love potion could be if messed with, and shuddered to think of how explosive (maybe even literally) a strong one could be if done incorrectly. However I decided to take that chance. I dumped my powdered dragon scales (which I had in my kit even though the school list had not asked for them,) counted to seven as precisely as I could, then poured in the flobberworm juice. I waited for something horrible to happen, but instead the potion turned a pearly white and began to swirl. I looked at it, pleased with myself, and instinctively turned to see how the others were doing and compare mine to theirs. A girl I was usually good friends with, Janelly Dumonde, had sat next to me and was peering suspiciously at my cauldron.
"Are you sure you're doing it right?" she inquired, stirring her deep blue potion. I was about to reply when her concoction burst into flame in front of my eyes. She started shrieking and batting at it and blowing on it, trying to extinguish the fire. I eyed her rather smugly as Professor Slughorn was forced to rush over (although his rushing was not very rushed at all) and exclaim "Aguamenti!" which quelled the dancing conflagration.
"Are you sure you are?" I asked as Slughorn hurried back to his desk without even noticing my swimming potion. She raised an eyebrow at me and went back to work. I continued to seek guidance from those around me, however I remembered that they were doing something different from me, and turned to my book for advice. I was not surprised to see that it was not on the same page as it had been, due to all that waving and blowing air. Instead it was open to a page about the dangers of potion making, but what really caught my eye was a large scribble that read:
"Sectumsempra: For enemies." I liked the word. It rolled off my tongue as I whispered it again and again. I wondered what it did and was curious even though it sounded Dark and was slightly scary. I decided to test it on a Slytherin fifth year later, a particular Daniel (Last name not available) who enjoyed bossing me around when he saw me (He was a prefect.) For now I turned the book back to the Amortentia page and continued reading the instructions.
"After completing Step 1, your potion should be milky white." I panicked. My potion was not milky at all, just shiny. I read a little down and calmed a bit when I read:
"After Step 2, your potion should have a shiny quality to it." I found it interesting that by following the mysterious tips given by the previous owner of this book, I had eliminated the need for, as I learned upon going back over it, twelve minutes of stirring.
After thirty additional minutes of adding ingredients and stirring and adding more and stirring more, instructions dotted here and there with the suggestions of the old owner, I added the final ingredient, rose petals. I watched them flutter to the bottom of my cauldron and land in the pale, shimmery pool of my potion. I was afraid I'd done it wrong as it began to bubble hideously, but then small spirals of steam began rising, twirling in sharp helixes. A strange but delicious fragrance began rising with the steam, something that smelled like lemons and pine and hickory smoke all at once, plus something that smelled like a perfume my mother might have worn once. I smiled as I began to feel inexplicably happy, and though most of it probably came from the powerful love potion I had just concocted, some of it came from knowing that I had done something no other third-year had ever done. I began to stir listlessly and dreamily until Slughorn bellowed out another command. Everyone was in a light stupor from their potions, but none was as strong as mine, I noticed with some muffled pride that might have been stronger had I not been so drowsy…
"Time's up!" Heads shot up everywhere, most people yawning happily and grinning, though some looked utterly disappointed. Little Dennis Creevey's potion had spilled all over him and he was crying with such passion I wondered if he had not invented a new tonic to induce depression. Slughorn, with some effort, pulled himself up from his seat and strolled over to the first desk, shared by two Gryffindor girls. One was looking quite pleased, the other positively elated. The Professor gave them five points for Gryffindor each, because it was obvious that they "Tried hard and succeeded… Somewhat." He passed everyone, awarding points for the best, smiling and nodding at even the worst, although not as enthusiastically in that case. I soon learned that the ideal potion was a light pink or purple, smelling of flowers. When Slughorn was at the table nearest mine, Janelly tapped me on the shoulder.
"He'll be really mad at you, I think," she said, looking worried.
"Don't worry, I think I'll be okay…" I grabbed the copy of Advanced Potion-Making and dropped it back under the desk where I had found it, and pulled my own Potions book from inside my bag. I placed it on the desk and opened it to page 169 and bent low over it, so as to look as if I was following instructions intently. When Slughorn passed my table, he gave Janelly an encouraging "Very good, nearly as pale as it gets, especially with such setbacks," and then turned to me. His already rather flabby face collapsed into a mess of shock.
"Why- why- Kinna, what instructions were you following?" My head shot up.
"What? Oh- these, Sir." I handed over my own Potions book. He eyed it and shook his head before bending down to my level.
"Kinna. Are you absolutely… sure." His bright eyes were wide.
"Of course, Sir," I said, putting as much surprise into my voice as I could. "Why, is there something wrong? The book said to get it as pale as possible, and that it should smell good. Mine does that, doesn't it? So, what's wrong?" If he wanted to play up the actor thing, fine. I could play along.
"You have made Amortentia… The most powerful love potion in the world." He said it softly enough, but the entire class still went quiet and turned their heads in my direction. Janelly shot me a dirty look before burying her face in her hands. Dennis Creevey stopped crying. All eyes were on me.
"Gosh," I said, looking bewildered. "Is- is that bad?"
Professor Slughorn's white face immediately flushed and broke into a grin. "Why of course not, my dear Kinna! This is amazing, absolutely amazing. What do you say, class- Thirty points for Ravenclaw!" I smiled too as a few of my friends clapped. I was happy I had done something interesting enough to draw the attention of my classmates and earn my house a fair amount of sapphires in the bottom of their hourglass. I should have noticed how easily this went across with everyone and questioned their brief incredulousness, but I was too pleased with myself to think. Nonetheless, my jubilation was short-lived, as next I had Defense Against the Dark Arts. With Snape. I rushed out quickly when the chimes rang, as not to give Slughorn time to pull me aside. I heard him call out my name behind me, but I ignored him and rushed out, the immense joy I felt slowly being eaten by suspicion and fear. I'd rather have to face Snape than an angry Slughorn, judging by how, I assumed, even the strongest Shield Charm couldn't hold back the massive girth of my Potions professor.