A/N: I really have no valid alibi for this. It`s been over two weeks since I last posted a chapter, which is unacceptable. I promised at least two chapters every week, and from this point onwards, I intend to at least publish one. This is my promise to you, and you are allowed to hold me accountable to said promise. Because the only reason I didn`t post this before now was because I recently bought a subscription to Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn, which has effectively sucked up all my free time. But I digress. Please, enjoy the chapter!
Side Note: If you haven`t done so already or read the update chapter which has now been deleted, please go back and reread the story from scratch. Two weeks ago, I changed a lot of the aspects of the story to create a more believable Harry and overall plot, based on several reviews left by the original readers. Please, do go back and do so, or you might be thoroughly confused later on!
Hermione shook her head in a bitter manner whilst marching past the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw that was located inside the common room in the Ravenclaw Tower. It was the first day of school, and Harry had, for some reason, decided to skip breakfast. Now, he was apparently running the risk of being late to his first class as well. The boy seemed completely unconcerned about the fact that education actually meant something in the wizarding world, and he seemed more engrossed in his potions-studies than the actual school. This annoyed Hermione Granger beyond reason. It was common sense that school should be prioritized above all else, at least within her circle of close friends, which consisted of one member: herself. In her defense though, that one member held inestimable value.
She banged her fist against the closed door leading into the Ravenclaw dormitories.
"Harry Potter, if you are in there, you better open up this door right now!" she yelled, frustration seeping from her words. She waited for a couple of seconds, before hearing the muffled sound of movement coming from within the room. The door slowly opened up with a screech.
The room was in total chaos. Books, clothes, empty vials and what looked like chocolate wrapping paper covered the floor, and the air was filled with the metallic smell of gunpowder. In the middle of it all stood Harry Potter, bent over a miniature cauldron. He looked like an outright lunatic, soot covering his face and clothes. When he noticed Hermione staring at him, he lifted his eyes to meet hers. A wide grin covered his face.
"Good morning, Hermione", he proclaimed happily. Hermione sent him a flat stare.
"What in Godric`s name are you doing Harry?" she asked, noticeably bewildered.
"Why, I`m attempting to make an Erumpent Potion of course!" he grinned, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. Hermione vaguely remembered reading about the Erumpent Potion. It was essentially the potion equivalent to that of a muggle stick of dynamite.
"Harry, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?" she gasped, surprised at just how daring he was. An Erumpent Potion wasn`t something a first-year should be brewing, and definitely not in such a makeshift way.
"I assure you Hermione, it`s totally fine, I`m more than qualified enough to brew such a potion," he shrugged nonchalantly. Hermione sent him a questioning glare, gesturing to the total mess he had made. Harry took a quick look around the room, before putting on a smug, slightly embarrassed look.
"Oops".
Hermione let out a defeated sigh, before bending over to pick up an empty vial. She figured he could use some help cleaning up.
"Oh no, you don`t have to do that Hermione, I can clean up this mess myself," he smiled, pulling out his wand. Hermione took a step back, and gestured him to continue doing whatever he was planning to do. Harry sent her a comforting smile, before taking a deep breath.
"Scourgify!" he said, pointing the tip of his wand towards the mess that was scattered across the floor. An audible pop sounded through the room, and suddenly, the mess had disappeared, leaving no trace of its existence. Hermione gasped in surprise. She had never seen a spell like that before.
"Harry, what was that?" she asked befuddled.
"What, that spell? It`s just a simple cleaning spell. It does require some practice before one can master it though, but it`s virtually essential for anyone who calls themselves a potion-brewer," he shrugged, pocketing his wand again. Hermione was perplexed, but decided to avoid pursuing the matter any further. They only had a couple of minutes before class started, so she seized a firm grip around Harry`s arm, and started dragging him towards the door.
"Well, we have to go now, class is about to start," she stated matter-of-factly, pulling Harry with her.
"Umm, I don`t mean to be intrusive, but I do believe it would be best if I brought the required books to class, Hermione," Harry muttered, gently tearing his arm out of her grip. She stopped dead in her tracks, and did a mental facepalm. Of course, he would need his books.
"Well, be quick. We don`t have a lot of time to spare".
…
They were already well on their way towards Potions class when Harry realized he had forgot to clean up his halfway done Erumpent Potion. He muttered a silent prayer that nobody would enter the boys` dorm in the next hour, and if they did, they would most likely get an "explosive" surprise. Luckily enough, he had used the ingredients sparingly whilst he was brewing it, so it shouldn`t be strong enough to cause serious damage.
Hermione railroaded them down the narrow and twisting corridors of Hogwarts, heading towards the dungeons on the lower level of the massive stone castle. Harry, filled to the brim with anticipation towards his first real Potions class, hoped the teacher would provide him with a decent challenge when it came to the potions they would be brewing. A part of him doubted it though, they were first-years after all, and the other students were presumably nowhere near as good as Harry was at brewing.
The Potions classroom`s walls were lined with pickled animals in glass jars, and all sorts of ingredients. The room was rather cold, and Harry had heard rumors that during the winter, it got so cold you could actually see your own breath. In one corner, a basin stood, shaped like a gargoyle. If activated, it would pour ice-cold water from its mouth, to use in the potions. In the other corner, there was a student supply cupboard, which undoubtedly contained all of the ingredients they would use during class. Harry seated himself near the front of the classroom, and the teacher, an immensely fat, bald man with an enormous belly, sent him a warm smile. He had a friendly aura about him, and Harry found it to be calming.
When everyone had found a seat, the man stood up from his chair, and started addressing the class.
"Welcome, students, to your first ever Potions class! I will act as the Potions Master this year, and my name is Horace Slughorn! I hope we can all get along well, and treat each other with the respect and courtesy fitting for a proper class", he beamed, his arms extended to either side of his body.
"Now, in today's class, you will attempt to brew a Boil-Cure Potion! You will find all of the necessary ingredients in the cupboard to my right, and you have exactly one hour to complete this task. Begin!"
Harry could practically feel the heart sinking in his chest, and all the hope he had had before entering the classroom dissipated into nothingness. A Boil-Cure Potion. Harry was convinced that the teacher couldn`t have found a more bland potion to brew if he had stayed up all night, studying recipe books looking for the most mundane potion to make.
He got up from his chair with an audible groan, and joined the growing line of students standing in front of the supply cupboard. Making a Boil-Cure Potion was an insult to his genius, a waste of his most precious time. He would have to ask the teacher if he could brew his own potions, while the rest of the class lagged behind. He wasn`t keen on being stuck on this elementary level of potion brewing.
After grabbing some dried nettles, snake fangs, horned slugs and porcupine quills, Harry returned to his seat in order to start the brewing process. He started by crushing the snake fangs into a fine powder using a mortar. It was important to be meticulous whilst pulverizing the snake fangs; you would want to make sure the powder was as smooth as possible, because even the slightest chunk could mess up the entire potion.
After making sure that the mashed fangs were as silky as possible, Harry added four measures of the powder to his cauldron, which was filled with cold water. He used a simple Callesco spell to heat up the mixture to exactly 250 degrees for 10 seconds, after which we waved his wand over the concoction, and left it to brew for the next thirty-five minutes. The brewing process of this potion was excessively straightforward, and only the most inexperienced of potion-brewers would mess up something this simple. A quick glance around the room told him that the other students were, for the most part, very inexperienced, as no one thus far had managed to achieve the desired blue-ish color of the potion. The nervous Neville Longbottom had somehow managed to melt his cauldron, which was now emitting a quite horrid odor.
Judging by the vicious boils that covered Neville`s hand, the foul concoction he had brewed had had the opposite effect, giving you boils instead of removing them. Harry couldn`t help but chuckle as Neville desperately tried to rescue his failed potion by adding more porcupine quills, which of course only made the mixture reek even worse. Professor Slughorn tried to calm down the distressed Neville, but to no avail. The crazed student seemed to think that adding extra water to the mixture would somehow fix it, but alas, it only made the classroom smell similar to that of a wet fart.
After multiple attempts, a ruined potion and a melted cauldron, Neville finally bowed his head in defeat, his will to live slowly ebbing out. After a while, Harry reverted his attention back to his own potion, which was finally ready. He took the four horned slugs and added them to the mix, watching them slowly disintegrate in the hot water. He then waited for the potion to cool down, before adding the final ingredient: the porcupine quills. Behind him, he heard a cauldron literally explode, showering it`s brewer with a purple-ish liquid that stuck to the skin. After some desperate wailing, Professor Slughorn finally managed to remove the substance from the panicked first-year.
"What a bunch of amateurs," Harry thought to himself, smiling as he watched his own potion slowly turn into the desired color of blue.
…
Harry strode down the hallway with a bright smile plastered onto his face. That Potions class went surprisingly well. Professor Slughorn had commended him on his work, since his potion had been as close to perfect as you could get a Boil-Cure Potion.
"You can wipe that satisfied grin right off your face, Potter", Malfoy said, striding up next to Harry. "My potion was almost as potent as yours, I blame beginners luck". Harry couldn`t help but smirk.
"Malfoy, you don`t even believe that statement yourself, much less do I. I am just more adept at it than you are," Harry stated matter-of-factly. He could practically feel Malfoy shaking with undignified fury, but he somehow managed to swallow his pride and keep it down.
"I do suppose you are capable, Potter, but enjoy this while it lasts, you will not best me for long, on that I give you my word," Draco answered, before hastily hurrying past Harry down the corridor. Harry simply smiled. Draco was full of empty threats, but there was no doubt that the name Malfoy held some relevance in the wizarding society. He would have to be wary around Draco`s father, Lucius Malfoy.
And with that, Harry shifted his thoughts over to something a little more positive, like for instance what he would have for lunch.
…
The rest of the day came and went, and the only memorable thing that happened, was the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, where they were introduced to Professor Quirrell. Harry was unsure of what to think of Quirrell. He had a strange, threatening aura surrounding him, which made Harry question his motives. There was just something a little bit off about the Defence Professor, but Harry couldn`t quite put a finger on exactly what it was. Maybe he was just being paranoid.
Sadly, the lesson itself turned out to be somewhat of a joke. Professor Quirrell dedicated the entire lesson to learning about the Curse of the Bogies, which even Harry knew about. It was a curse that gave the recipient a strong cold, which could possibly make one collapse if not treated. In addition, it left you with a runny nose. But that was pretty much the extent of it. The curse was hardly something one would dedicate an entire lesson to, and it was definitely not considered a "dark art". If dark wizards had nothing more to do than run around and give everyone a particularly strong cold, then Harry would have to reconsider his view of dark magic.
As they were walking back towards the common room, a girl with long black hair and olive-toned skin came running towards Harry and his little group of friends. Harry vaguely remembered that her name was Parvati something and that she`d been sorted into Gryffindor. The girl looked thoroughly aghast, and it was clear that something was wrong.
"Someone please help, my sister has collapsed in the Gryffindor common room!" she shouted, voice trembling.
"Whoa, calm down. What happened?" Ron asked bewildered.
"I don`t know! We were in the middle of a conversation, and then she suddenly just fell over and started making these weird noises! I was so scared, I didn`t know what to do, I…" her voice trailed off as she recalled the event, her eyes welling up with tears.
"Hey, it`s okay, I assure you, we will do everything in our power to help your sister, right guys?" Harry consoled, taking a quick glance back at his friends. They simply nodded, and headed off towards the common room.
When they arrived, they spotted the unconscious Padma laying on the floor, froth gushing from her mouth. Her eyes had rolled back into her head, and her body shot into spastic jolts every now and then, making her back arch in a horrible way. Harry felt the blood in his veins freeze to ice, and a strange clearness filled his head. He had to be quick, because if not… Well, Harry didn`t want to think about that.
He immediately got into a sitting position next to Padma`s unconscious, convulsing body, and took a closer look at her face. She was rather pretty, despite the fact that she was, well you know, dying. Harry racked his brain searching for a cause, something that could trigger something like this.
His friends watched in utter silence as Harry put a cool hand against Padma`s forehead. She was melting up, and Harry`s hand actually recoiled slightly as it touched the hot surface.
"Think Harry, think! Froth covering the mouth, spastic jolts, high fever… Where have I seen this before? Oh that`s right, I saw it happen to a cow once, that time father took me to a farm. It had apparently eaten something I wasn`t supposed to. Wait, eat. Eat. Something you eat".
Harry took a quick look around the room, but spotted no plates or food of any kind.
"Okay, so the probability of food causing this is statistically very low. What else can it be? Something you drink perhaps?"
Yet again, Harry swept his glare across the room, and luckily enough, he spotted an empty goblet on the table at the far side of the room.
"It would seem has been poisoned. Now, what was the name of that flower the cow ate? Beetroot? Bareroot? Bloodroot! That`s the name!"
Suddenly, the last piece of the puzzle fell into place in Harry`s head. He immediately got up, and made his way over to the empty goblet. His friends watched in outright shock as he picked it up and took a good sniff. The smell of Bloodroot was overwhelming, and Harry couldn`t help but cough a couple of times. Padma had to be effectively insane to drink something like this.
"She has been poisoned. Someone slipped a little bit of Bloodroot Potion into her drink. Bloodroot is highly poisonous, and she will need medical attention as fast as possible," Harry stated calmly. His friends shifted their attention from him to the girl on the floor. Parvati ran to her sister`s side, and sent the others a helpless stare.
"What are you waiting for, help me carry her to Madam Pomfrey`s!"
That seemed to get the others into action. They ran over to the two girls, and helped Parvati carry her unconscious sister out the door. Harry stayed behind to take a second look at the goblet. Much to Harry`s disappointment, there didn`t seem to be anything more to discover. He had no idea who was behind all of this, and the person of interest certainly hadn`t left him any clues.
As Harry was about to leave the common room, he could`ve sworn he heard a faint whisper in the back of his skull. As he tried to concentrate on the whispers, they trailed off and became more distant, except for two words, which sent shivers down his spine like electric jolts.
Harry… Potter…
…
A/N: Now, please don`t hate me for this, but I`m not going to be specifically following canon from this point onwards. Some elements and plot points will definitely be canon, but I will add or remove as much as I see fit. This is my story, so you are just going to have to deal with it. But, if you do have an opinion on the story or something I should add, please don`t hesitate to leave a review! They make my day, and they help me improve as an author. Other than that, I will see you guys in the next chapter!
-Twisted