Chapter 7

CAULDRONS

"Dobby is bad. Bad, bad, bad." Once more, the elf banged his head against the damp tile floor of Moaning Myrtle's lavatory. Harry patted his friend's back, then lifted his eyes to the spook circling above them. Her vaporous features waxed and waned between annoyance at their midnight disturbance and glee at seeing someone more distressed than she was.

"There now," Hermione soothed, "it was for a good cause."

"And you made a brilliant job of it, too," Ron added.

The elf groaned. "The better for you to hoodwink the magnificent, munificent, multi-talented Professor Snape! Why didn't Dobby realize the wizard he was? Oh, bad Dobby!"

On hands and knees, he scrambled under a stall door. Before Harry could reach him, Myrtle wafted through and obligingly flushed the toilet. When Ron swung the door open, the elf was half-submerged and gurgling in the churning water. Hastily, Harry and Ron pulled him out. This time they each took an arm to restrain him.

Dobby spluttered. Then he started up again. "Professor Severus Snape is a wizard most noble and benevolent. Professor Severus Snape has liberated Winky."

"Actually," Ron said, "it was Professor Daine who—"

"Oh, Professor Ariel Daine is most benevolent and noble, too. But Winky was so lost, it took both of them to save her." Dobby let out a high wail. "And all the while they were freeing her, Dobby was burgling him!" The elf sunk his bared teeth into his own hand.

Hermione grabbed his long pointed ears and yanked him back up. "Somnoleveritaphantasmagoria Powder can be liberating, too. Being guided to admitting the truth can be very helpful to some people."

When she finished, a dawning look came over Dobby. He glanced from one to the other of his human friends. "You want to make Somnoleveritaphantasmagoria Powder to help Professor Severus Snape?"

Pasting a big grin on his face, Ron nodded.

Hermione bit her lower lip. "It could help him."

Harry crossed two fingers behind his back. "Absolutely."

Like magic, Dobby's anguish vanished in a dazzling smile. "Forgive Dobby for doubting you—Harry Potter who quelled the Dark Lord and threw Dobby a sock, Ronald Weasley who gave Dobby his favorite pullover, and Hermione Granger who struggles to free all house elves. None of you would ever do anything dishonorable." He lifted his jutting chin. "Liberating Professor Severus Snape. That is a good cause."

Sidelong, Harry saw Myrtle raise a ghostly eyebrow.

"So—" Hermione smiled brightly "—could we have the ingredients?"

As Dobby rummaged through various pockets in his soggy, mismatched jacket, vest, shirt, and trousers, Ron leaned close to Harry's ear. "Another three-week potion. I hope that's not too long a wait to liberate Snape of the truth."

Harry shrugged. "I'll watch my step."

Beaming, Dobby handed over the ingredients. Hermione laid the candori root, the pouch of bandersnatch skin flakes, and the tiny vial of sphinx piss on her lap. A fourth package she slipped into her robes.

"This concoction has three parts," she said. "The sleep portion will only take an hour to brew and another eleven to recrystallise into powder. I should be done in time to catch a long nap before tonight's party."

Party. With so many other things on his mind, Harry had forgotten tonight was Hallowe'en.

"Twelve hours!" Myrtle moaned. "She's not staying with me for twelve hours!"

Recalling the collection of ghosts, specters, and phantoms Hogwarts attracted on this special day, Harry smiled. "You won't even be here. So many friends will be dropping by, you'll be flying all over the castle."

"Friends?" Myrtle's misty face contorted. "Friends? Friends? Friends?" With each repetition, her lament grew more ghastly until she dwindled to a wraith that promptly flushed itself down the toilet.

Ron peered down the whirlpool, then cocked an eyebrow at Harry. "She really told you Hogwarts's toilets empty into the lake? Don't the merfolk complain?"

Harry spread his hands in a gesture of That's what she said. Relieved the dearly departed had departed, he turned to Hermione. "You're certain it's all right to just leave the truth potion simmering?"

"Yes—except during the new moon."

"And the dream potion—?"

"—needs to be stirred every four hours."

Ron grunted.

"And we need to repeat an incantation each time we stir it, so we can't just enchant a spoon to do it for us. I'll drop by during the day. There's so little privacy with a ghost flitting about and the place is so often flooded that nobody really uses this lavatory—but if someone did happen to see me come in, it wouldn't seem so odd."

Ron sighed. "Harry and I will trade off the before-and-after midnight hours. If Myrtle pesters me, I'll tell her how pretty she looks. She'll flush herself out of sight."

Poor thing, Harry thought. She was rather lonely. Maybe she'd enjoy telling him what Hogwarts had been like in the forties, before the basilisk struck her dead.

"Don't forget Dobby," the elf piped up. "Give me all the times nobody else can make. Anything to help Professor Severus Snape."

"Uh, right," Ron said.

"After three weeks, we'll recrystallise the truth and the dream potions. Then it should take an evening to convert the powders into time-release granules. Then we'll be ready—"

"—for the biggest challenge of all," Harry said. "Getting Snape to drink it."

The elf yanked Harry's sleeve. "Dobby can help! Every evening Dobby leaves a glass of amontillado in Professor Severus Snape's office. He never sees Dobby. He'll fall asleep at his desk."

"All nice and cozy, ready to be liberated." Ron winked at Harry.

Harry winked back. He felt great. They had a plan. They were doing something. "Concocting... please, let's call it SVP... It's going to be hard work—harder work than anything in Potions—but I think it'll be worth it."

Ron grinned. "Too bad making SVP can't count for coursework."


An hour later, Harry surveyed the three cauldrons he and Ron had helped Hermione set up in the second-to-last stall. Dobby was lucky he'd left early. Like a schoolmistress, Hermione had insisted they each light one of the waterproof fires necessary to keep the potions simmering, prepare a portion of the ingredients, and recite the details of each step. Giving their scheme an aura of the educational made her feel better, so Harry obliged. He just hoped she wouldn't spring a recap test on them later.

Ron rolled his eyes. "At least this potion doesn't involve me turning into Crabbe."

"Or me Goyle." Glancing at Hermione, Harry grinned. "You looked charming as Millicent Bulstrode's black cat."

Ignoring him, Hermione ground her pestle three more times into her palm-sized mortar and inspected the wormwood she'd powdered. "Just a smidgen. This draft is for twilight sleep, not living death."

Since they'd agreed Harry would be the one to interrogate Snape, he pinched the wormwood and sprinkled it over the steaming cauldron, intoning "Somnole" as Hermione had instructed. A hissing purple fume uncoiled from the surface and undulated snake-like toward the ceiling.

"Good," Hermione said. "That's all for you two. Get along to bed."

Ron yawned. "You'll be bored out of your mind staying here twelve hours without us to hassle you."

"I'll catch some winks." Hermione reached into her sleeve, then flung a silvery web above their heads. "My mum bought me a Little Nemo Hammock in Diagon Alley."

"Your mother shops in Diagon Alley?" Harry asked in surprise.

"She couldn't get in there unless she's made some magical friends," Ron said.

Hermione shrugged. Then she flourished her wand, extinguishing the flames they'd conjured to light the stall, leaving only the blue fires flickering beneath the cauldrons.

Harry pulled his invisibility cloak from a deep pocket, then arranged it over Ron and himself. Since Hermione wouldn't be leaving until daytime, she wouldn't need it. Now that they were fifteen instead of eleven, it was rather hard to fit it over all three of them. As Harry opened the door, he heard Hermione softly chanting. Somewhere in the dark reaches of Hogwarts, cats were yowling.


Author's Note: Please review! Much appreciated.