"Professor! Professor Limpet," I yelled down the corridor, attracting the attention of students around me. The middle-aged potions professor whipped around, her face brightening upon spotting me. Of Ukranian descent, her hair was ash-blond and eyes grey, yet filled with life. She peered through her spectacles to ensure it was in fact me, stopping to allow me to catch up with her so we could walk together to the dungeons.
"How are you, Rose dear?" she asked. "Did you enjoy your Summer?"
"I did, thank you, did you, Professor?" Professor Limpet was the most brilliant Professor I had ever had the pleasure of being taught by. Her skill was undoubtable and although many doubted her sanity, I knew she simply showed the traits of being a genius. A Ravenclaw at heart, she tried to enthuse her students about the subject she loved so much and it had worked on me. I was already fascinated with potions from a young age due to my interest in their ability to cure me of some of my symptoms, yet she encouraged this enthusiasm to the point where Potions was easily my favourite subject. I did enjoy Charms too, but there was something about leaning over a bubbling cauldron that could not be replicated by simple wand work.
"It was alright, I did miss my potions supply though. The dungeons are ideal for potion brewing and I don't have many ingredients in my home," she explained. I never understood how Professor was so short of money as I never assumed Headmistress McGonagall to be one to underpay her staff. Nonetheless, I stayed quiet as it was far from my business. "How have you been coping with your symptoms?"
"The potions have been helping, but I can feel the symptoms gaining strength," I admitted. Professor Limpet was the only Professor other than the Headmistress who was aware of my condition. She had often spent hours making my healing potions and teaching me how to brew them so I wouldn't have to buy them from St. Mungo's. It was because of her that I could now brew many of my own healing potions.
Since my disease was so rare, few treatments were specific to my symptoms so she would often help me adjust my potions so they managed my symptoms better. We had to be careful to keep the potions safe, but Professor Limpet was incredibly gifted and seemed to know the consequences of adding any component to any potion. "I did have a question for you though. You know how they currently use a concentrated Draught of Peace to treat my anxiety attacks? Well, it's not so much anxiety as an internal feeling of fear and… darkness almost. So, follow my logic, there's that potion which causes you to just see black, oh- what is it called? Shadow elixir, that's it! And I was researching- correct me if I'm wrong- but it works by blackening your mind almost, as opposed to your sight, and that is kind of similar as to what happens to me. I then followed up by looking at antidotes and they say powdered Bicorn horn mixed with crushed asphodel in a 1 to 2 ratio is usually quite successful in clearing the mind of the black. So would adding that to my current Draught of Peace, obviously with some adjustment, potentially improve the potion?"
"Your thinking is wise and it's a wonderful idea," complimented the Professor, causing me to blush at her praise. "The only issue I can spot is the Bicorn horn may potentially interact with the moonstone in the Draught instead of the asphodel, putting you into a permanent slumber." The only issue, what an understatement. Professor Limpet noticed my disappointment and she smiled encouragingly. "Do not fret, Rose, Bicorn horn can easily be substituted by Chichevache horn. From my knowledge, I believe Chichevache horn should interact with the asphodel but not with the moonstone as long as it is crushed very fine. Why don't we find out? You are welcome to stay behind after this lesson, I believe it is your last for the day?" I nodded eagerly, incredibly excited at the prospect of improving my fear attacks. They were one of my most dreadful symptoms and my current potion did not defend me against the root of the attack, instead masking it and leaving me with sporadic black flashes and a long-lasting state of discomfort.
We entered the classroom and I inhaled deeply, the aura of the Dungeons putting me at ease. Not that I'd ever want to be a Slytherin, but it would nice if our common room was in this section of the castle. I stood at the door and admired the familiar sight of pickled animals in glass jars and the gargoyle sink. Low-hanging candles lit the room in a minimalistic fashion. Most people found it haunting, yet it was quite beautiful to me, providing a stark contrast to the bright and elevated Ravenclaw tower. It was undoubtedly cold in temperature but wrapped in my woollen jumper I had no qualms. Students began to walk in past me as I stared at the room oblivious. It was effectively a new class, as many had dropped Potions for their seventh year, resulting in them merging the two sixth year classes into one. I wasn't too bothered about who would be joining us. All I knew was Sonali dropped Potions so she wouldn't be joining me and I wasn't concerned about anyone else.
I snapped out of my daydream and walked towards my usual table at the front of the classroom. I had sat there with Sonali last year, despite her annoyance that she was hence forced to focus in Potions, a subject she had little admiration for. I assumed I'd be sitting there alone as not many sat on the front table- particularly because not many held much respect for Professor Limpet's words. I was wrong. I spotted a mop of blonde hair sat in Sonali's chair and cocked my eyebrow at the boy as I sat down.
"You're not the only one who's interested in what Professor says, you know," Scorpius muttered, answering my unsaid question. I shrugged and began pulling out my textbook and parchment. Naturally, I had read the textbook for this year over summer and had already begun to scribble all over the pages with potential ideas to improve or change the effects of different potions. Class was the perfect place to test them out and see whether any of the theoretical changes actually worked in practice. They were like my own little experiments.
"How splendid, I was hoping you'd stay at the front, Scorpius. Now I have my two finest students sitting together," Professor Limpet remarked, quietly so not to be overheard. In theory teachers weren't allowed to have favourites, but how could she not? I was a delight. But, Scorpius? In all fairness, I hadn't shared a class with him last year and nor was I aware of his OWL grades, however, he had never come across as incredibly academically gifted.
"Potions is my thing," explained Scorpius, as if he could read my mind. I'd assume he was a Legilimens if I hadn't learnt the art of Occlumency in the Summer after 5th year. What? I was bored. I had to admit, I was quite jealous to now be sharing Professor Limpet's attention and that too with a Gryffindor, but I decided to take the mature path and let it slide.
The lesson had gone quite quickly. Fortunately, today we were working on potions alone. I paid little attention to Scorpius, especially since the potion we were working on was one I wanted to experiment with. It was a Volubilis Potion, to alter a person's voice. Usually it made a person's voice change randomly, however after pouring over many books, I hoped that if I added a specific amount of Boomslang Skin and some crushed lacewing flies (both vital components of the Polyjuice potion), the potion generated could change the recipients voice to the person's whose hair I ended up adding to the potion. I quickly kept some in a vial and vanished the rest, not wanting to try it here in case it had a horrible side effect. Many of the class were leaving, amused at their voices having drunk some of their potions.
"Ah, Rose, I see you've already cleared your cauldron. We'll work in that, would you like to pour some Draught of Peace into it? I'll bring the powdered Chichevache horn," she suggested and I set to work, lighting the fire and grabbing some asphodel from the storage cupboard. We wanted to trial a small amount first, so it didn't take long to crush a small amount of asphodel and add an appropriate amount along with the already powdered Chichevache horn. "No change," she begrudgingly admitted and I sighed, scribbling the results (or lack of) into a small book I had specifically for my healing potion-related experiments. "Scorpius, would you come here for a second?" she asked. Scorpius, who had taken his time clearing away and was only now leaving the room quickly turned back around at the request of the Professor.
"Of course, what's the matter, Professor?" he asked, looking curiously down at the potion we were brewing. "Is that a Draught of Peace?"
"It is indeed, Mr. Malfoy. We're trying to improve the potion," she explained.
"But it's quite effective as far as I'm aware? People take them successfully, before examinations and stuff," he said, confused. Bugger. How were we going to get out of this? What other disease could possibly have had that same feeling of blackness overcoming your mind whilst suffering from a fear attack?
"Sufferers of extreme cases of cat flu tend to feel blackness overpowering their mind whilst they have an attack of extreme anxiety. We're trying to improve the potion for those particular sufferers," Professor Limpet replied. Of course, cat flu. Merlin bless Professor Limpet.
"The last epidemic of cat flu was in 1996, barely anyone suffers from it now," he commented.
"There is never a disease too rare to deserve high quality treatment," retorted Professor Limpet. I smiled warmly at her and Scorpius looked at us strangely, before shrugging his shoulders in acceptance. "Explain your logic, Rose," asked Professor Limpet and I went about saying a similar thing to what I had told Professor Limpet earlier in the corridor, except without mentioning I suffered from the attacks myself.
"So you ended up adding Chichevache horn?" he asked and I nodded in agreement. "Well, it's possible that the moonstone is not only not interacting with the Chichevache horn, but it's also muted the horn's effect, meaning it won't interact with the asphodel now either. Hey, I have an idea. Asphodel doesn't dissolve in this Draught does it?" Professor Limpet shook her head. "Well, instead of crushing the Asphodel, why don't you use it in its intact form? You could wrap the powdered Bicorn horn in the flower, seal it magically and then put the the result into the Draught. That way the Bicorn horn could only interact with the asphodel and not with anything else in the Draught." I was impressed. "Pretty impressive, ey?" smirked Scorpius, leaning over to me when Professor Limpet went to get some more asphodel. I stuck my nose up- partially in disapproval and partially because of the smell of his cologne. I was no longer impressed.
"Isn't there a chance it won't have any or a weaker interaction if the asphodel isn't crushed?" I queried.
"Well, let's find out," grinned Scorpius, a glint present in his eyes, which I could only guess was at the excitement of experimenting. As we folded flowers, I glanced his way, intrigued by the boy beside me. From afar he seemed like your standard Gryffindor; well-liked, flirtatious and a cocky demeanour. Yet, there was something different about him here. He still had a hint of playfulness about him, but he was focused, driven and intelligent. Scorpius and I worked on the potion together, Professor Limpet deciding to research more to ensure the side effects wouldn't be disastrous with this new addition. We worked in silence but it was a pleasant aura as opposed to an awkward one. We made an efficient team, Scorpius sprinkling in the powdered Bicorn horn and myself sealing them up with a charm. It wasn't too long before we got to the point where we had 5 little bundles and Professor Limpet carefully levitated them into the cauldron. The cauldron let out a small puff of smoke and then went from it's usual deep purple to a bright shade of pink, a positive sign.
Professor Limpet brought a rat from a cage she kept in the storage cupboard. She had researched our changes thoroughly enough to be mostly sure that it wouldn't have any harmful effects, so it wasn't particularly unethical to test it on the rat. She gave the rat a small dose of what we had prepared and the atmosphere was tense as we waited for the rat to exhibit any signs of distress. The rat was initially stationary, but after 30 seconds it acted just as it had before, perhaps with a slightly more noticeable spring in it's walk. I let out a sigh of relief and Scorpius stared proudly at the cauldron. I was aware that if he knew it was all just for me, he probably wouldn't have been so willing and excited to help. Why would anyone go to this much effort all for one person? Especially, if said person was your best friend's most hated cousin.
I hadn't really thought about the fact Scorpius and Albus were so close. That only gave me more evidence that my hypothesis was correct. Scorpius was only helping because Professor Limpet had asked, or he thought he was helping society, not for me. The thought saddened me, but I put it to the back of my mind as the Professor handed me a large vial of the potion.
"Hopefully, it'll be as effective as it is safe," she commented and I nodded in agreement.
"How are you going to test it? Is it going to go to St. Mungo's and they'll do trials?" asked Scorpius. That boy was full of awkward questions.
"No, those'll take far too long. Rose is going to send it to a friend of mine suffering from the flu," lied Professor Limpet. She was a brilliant liar. I wouldn't doubt that she could have been a Slytherin if it wasn't for her selflessness.
"Oh, okay. Would you like me to take it? I have to pass by the Owlery anyways," said Scorpius.
"No," I snapped far too quickly, clutching the vials to my chest. This is why people think you're deluded, Rose. "I just mean," I began, trying to compose myself, "I'll do it. I have her address and things, you don't need to worry."
"Okay, if you say so," shrugged Scorpius. "It was fun working with you, Professor. You too, Weasley."
He began exiting the room, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "Thank you. Thank you for helping me," I blurted out, just as he stepped through the door. He turned around and I thought I saw a genuine smile on his face before it quickly turned to a smirk.
"No problem, Weasley," he replied and flashed me a wink before walking out the room. I stood there dumbfounded, mouth agape and I heard a chuckle from behind me. I whipped around to spot Professor Limpet who was laughing.
"He's an interesting one, isn't he?" she remarked, and I sniffed whilst packing away my things.
"You could say that," I grumbled. Scorpius Malfoy had to indeed be one of the most interesting people I had ever met.
Sonali and I had taken residence on a large couch in the common room, with a stunning view of the black lake. There was a pleasant breeze coming in from the slightly ajar window as I completed the Charms essay I had received that day. For the last 6 years I had forced Sonali to join me with my ritual of completing any homework I received the very day I got it, unless it was a larger project. Even in 7th year, she still hadn't grown to the concept and was intensely watching two beetles fight with each other for a tiny leaf on the table.
"Where did you even find the beetles?" I questioned, curious as to why she would have some in the first place.
"I had Care of Magical Creatures last and we were learning about competition. In theory, I'm revising," she defended. Even though I knew what she was doing was unlikely to improve her NEWT grade, I let it pass. After all, it was only the first day back (even though I would never take up that attitude myself). If there was something which Sonali truly did enjoy, aside from Quidditch, it would have to be Care of Magical Creatures. She often went down to Hagrid's hut for tea and to learn something new about some creature I wasn't even aware existed. Personally, I wasn't a giant fan of the subject. My NEWT subjects were fairly standard: Potions, Charms, Transfiguration and Arithmancy. I dropped Defence Against the Dark Arts at the end of last year, deciding it held little relevance for what I wanted to achieve. About six people in the year took four subjects in seventh year, the remainder taking three.
"Let's go outside," I suggested, after finishing off the last line of my essay. My homework was complete and the sun was about to set over the grounds, a sight much more magical when one was actually outdoors. Sonali quickly agreed, pocketing the beetles much to my distaste. How anyone didn't have a revulsion towards bugs was beyond me.
We arrived at the grounds without much hassle. Majority of the students had retreated to their common rooms so few were roaming the corridors. However, a number of students had a similar thought to us and were enjoying the surprisingly pleasant weather, so it was fairly crowded near the lake. We sat down nonetheless and I pulled out a book I had bought over summer. The book was based upon a Squib of my age who attended a Muggle boarding school, trying to maintain her magical roots whilst she attempted to integrate herself into the non-magical world. It was set during the time of Voldemort's second rise though, which complicated things. I was only a quarter of the way through, so wasn't too sure of what the climax was going to involve but it had held my attention so far. I glanced briefly to see what Sonali was doing, but she had involved herself in a conversation with a sixth year, Gale McLaggen, who had played chaser on the Ravenclaw team since his third year. He was incredibly talented, though when I mentioned this to Dad once, he went bright red and was in a foul mood for the remainder of that day. The reason was still unbeknownst to me. Their conversation was surrounding the upcoming Quidditch trials and albeit I was interested, I knew I'd hear enough about it from Sonali so blocked them out and focused on my book.
Sarah's stomach turned upon reading that the Millenium Bridge had collapsed. The Brockdale Bridge had also gone down, killing hundreds of people. The public was distraught and confused but Sarah was perfectly aware of the cause behind the bridge falling. Her mother had confirmed her theory not long after it came out in the Guardian, sending her a message stating Fenrir Greyback and a group of Death Eaters were responsible. How long could she wait here, hiding in the Muggle world? What use would she be if she did return to the magical world to help? Never had she felt so isolated and useless as she felt at that moment. Where was Anna? At this point I was incredibly thankful that I had told Anna about me being a Squib- she would understand. I noticed a post-it note stuck to her bedpost and went closer to read it.
My dad was on the bridge, it read. I gulped as my mind began spinning. My best friend's father was dead. Someone who wasn't even aware that Voldemort existed was dead because of the magical world. I was angry, hurt and most of all, scared. How would I help her through this? She had always been there for me, but what could I say to make it better? Nothing could make something like this better.
Okay, well that turned depressing very quickly. I shut the book deciding it was far too intense for the moment and pulled out a Potions paper instead. It was a research article about a potential cure for Spattergroit, which so far only had a few drugs to improve symptoms and otherwise involved keeping the patient in isolation until the virus left their system. This could take anywhere from a month to a year, so it would be quite ground-breaking if they could concoct a potion to heal it. I read the abstract thoroughly before skimming the rest of the article and used my wand to highlight certain sentences of interest. I always tried to keep up with the latest advancements in healing, not just because of my general curiosity, but because many of them had given me ideas for treating my own symptoms or adapting my current potions. Considering research was a branch I was seriously considering going into, particularly regarding healing potions, it seemed an appropriate use of my time. Time. Something I had reasonably less of than the average person. Knowing my brain was going to degrade motivated me to learn as much as I could in the time I had. I simply had to make my mark in academic society much sooner than most people, which meant I had to stay one step ahead of everyone else my age.
Magical research was mostly similar to Muggle research I had discovered. A similar lengthy process to find one thing about our bodies and then have it peer reviewed before it was published into a paper. Magical research, however, was much slower as the magical community itself was smaller. It occasionally used elements of Muggle discoveries but they usually had to be adapted due to the drastic differences in magical and non-magical blood and bodies. Wizard researchers regularly found some new protein that potentially contributed to our magical abilities, but there was no simple explanation. Ironically, a lot of it was due to pathways in the brain rather than the blood, an organ which both the Muggle and wizarding communities had minimal understanding of due to its complexity. Probably the biggest thing that had come out of investigating the cause behind magical powers was disproving the theory that pure-blood wizards were more powerful than those with Muggle blood in them after Voldemort's fall. Many studies were published showing that there was no correlation between how pure your magical ancestry was and your strength as a wizard/witch.
"Rose, what do you think about Patricia? Should we keep her on?" asked Sonali as I peered at her from above my paper.
"Depends on if you find any new talent," I muttered. "Though I'd love to see her gone."
"As would I. But Weasley's right, Sonny, it all depends on if anyone's been hiding their seeking ability and only now decides to try out," reasoned Gale.
"There could be a damn good second year," suggested Sonali, hope in her voice.
"You know that no second year is going to be good enough for the spot. At least not good enough to justify kicking off Patricia," sighed Gale.
"Hey, you never know. Uncle Harry was an incredible seeker, even in his first year," I argued.
"Your 'Uncle Harry' also saved the god damn Wizarding universe," retorted Gale. That was fair play so I appropriately became quiet. Sonali sighed, burying her head in her hands.
"I just don't know if I can deal with her this year. She's terrible at following team strategy and she'll be even more selfish this year because Scouts will be watching. What if, in a hypothetical scenario, we're in the final and the opposing team pulls up 150 points against us? There's no way she'd wait for us to catch up before catching the snitch- she has her own agenda."
"Not that I'm doubting her selfishness, but that wouldn't happen. Firstly, no chaser attack could put 15 goals through your hoops; the best of Hogwarts could barely get 3 in. Secondly, our chaser attack won't let that happen, no matter who fills the gap Vane left." Harley Vane was a chaser on the team last year but it was his seventh year so he had left now. "Finally, no league team would want someone who was more concerned about their own victory than the team's."
Sonali smiled warmly at him, before letting out a laugh. "You know you don't have to address my worries in that much detail. I'll be ranting a lot more to you throughout the year," warned Sonali, winking.
"Nah, your worries are valid. Plus, you're my captain, can't have you breaking down over Boot," he chuckled, and I could feel I was definitely a third-wheel in this situation. I never pictured Sonali going for someone younger, particularly since she had always had an interest in older guys, but her and Gale did get along very well and for a sixth year, he was very attractive. I grinned at my own thoughts- looking at them both together, they would make a cute couple.