Of Amortentia & Polyjuice Potion
Chapter Ten
"Oliver"
Dorcas sprinted through the corridors of Hogwarts Castle, her head turning right and left, searching for Garry Meade. The stupid jock was late. He was supposed to be waiting in the second floor hallway outside of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom when they got back from the Field Study. Apparently, he was too good to wait for a bunch of girls.
The portraits shouted admonishments at Dorcas as she streaked past, but she didn't pay them any mind. If she didn't find Garry soon, there would be hell to pay. Lily had run out of Polyjuice Potion, which meant Garry should have also. Any minute now, he would turn back into himself—cramped into Gryffindor robes, size medium. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out what was going on.
"There you are!" Dorcas shouted.
Lily—er, Garry—turned towards her voice, seemingly unconcerned about the time and strolling down the corridor in the opposite direction of Myrtle's bathroom.
"Get—to—the—second—floor—now!"
Garry made a convulsive motion, like something inside his stomach was struggling to get out. Dorcas grabbed his wrist and began running up the marble staircase. The portraits threw tissy-fits again, some of the occupants running through neighboring frames to continue shouting at Dorcas.
"… and you a prefect, causing ruckus and mayhem! In my day prefects set examples, young lady! Oh, and another prefect running amok in the hallways! And a Gryffindor too! Shame has fallen on my House!"
Had this been a less serious situation, Dorcas would have toyed mercilessly with the old woman. She would have doodled on busts and rearranged tapestries and shouted swearwords. But her priority was getting Garry into the girls' bathroom on the second floor.
"Anywhere there is ruckus and mayhem Peeves is sure to be!" cackled the poltergeist.
"Oh, no, not now!" Dorcas whined.
Peeves floated above the students, chucking stink pellets and bits of chalk at them. No doubt, he had been somewhere else doing the same thing only moment ago, and unfortunately, had a whole cache of unused projectiles.
Dorcas skidded around the corner, Garry clutching at her shoulders to keep from slipping. His face was contorted in pain now, and Dorcas could tell that at any moment the potion would wear off. She would be stranded in the corridor with Garry in too small robes and Peeves as a witness that Lily Evans had sudden morphed into Garry Meade. Their plan seemed to be crashing about their ears, but at the end of the hallway, the door to Myrtle's bathroom opened a crack and Annabel's face peered out.
"Not much farth—Oh!" Dorcas cried. She slid to a halt before Professor McGonagall.
"Miss Meadowes, Miss Evans! I thought two prefects would know how to behave properly, but—"
Dorcas glanced sidelong at Garry. There was no time. If Peeves alone had seen the transformation, maybe she could have talked her way out of it, but Professor McGonagall was a hundred times more clever than Peeves, and she would not be fooled by any story Dorcas came up with—not that she would dare lie to the Head of Gryffindor House anyway.
"Please, Professor, she's going to be sick!"
Without waiting for a reply, Dorcas took off down the hallway and burst into Myrtle's bathroom just as Garry turned back into himself. Annabel's cheeks turned beat red as Lily's small robes split under the pressure of Garry's expanding girth. Lily hastily threw him his own robes before turning her back, while Dorcas stole a few peaks at the nearly-naked Beater's physique.
The clip-clopping of high-heeled shoes shortly preceded Professor McGonagall entering the bathroom. Garry had enough sense to dive into a stall, and Dorcas kicked Lily in the knee so that she fell over.
"Miss Evans! Are you all right! If I had known you were ill, I wouldn't have scolded you! We need to get you to the hospital wing. Up you get, Miss Evans. Oh my, Madam Pomfrey will be beside herself!"
That evening, while every other student who went on the Field Study was relaxing in steaming baths full of fragrant bubbles, Lily, Annabel, and Dorcas were in the hospital wing. Regardless of that fact that there was nothing physically wrong with Lily, Madam Pomfrey had insisted she spend the night in the hospital wing. Her friends opted to sit with her and forgo the creature comforts of Hogwarts Castle, since it was partially their doing that Lily was forced to lie in bed.
"Lucky McGonagall has a tender streak," Annabel whispered. "Anyone else might have noticed Dorcas drop-kicking Lily."
She mimed Dorcas's leg flying into the air and Lily falling down. It made her friends laugh even if it was a bit more extreme than what had happened. She was right, though, Dorcas had been less-than-subtle.
"Isn't someone going to miss you if you stay up here all night?" Lily asked Annabel.
The blonde girl turned pink and mumbled something incoherent about dinner and walking to Hufflepuff Cellar.
"I'm happy for you, Anna. Pete's a nice guy. His friends are bad influences, that's all. You'll be good for him."
"Pete? Peter Pettigrew?" Dorcas asked. "Ugh!"
Lily scowled silently at her best friend. Sometimes she forgot that Annabel was only popular by association. Lily often wondered if Dorcas and Black weren't a good match for the simple fact that they both took their beauty and brains for granted. It was all natural for them, and they had never known anything but acceptance. Lily and Annabel, both Muggle-borns, had been outcasts at their primary schools because of strange things that happened around them. Lily knew what it was like to be loathed, Dorcas didn't.
"Shut up, Dorcas!" Annabel said shrilly.
Lily and Dorcas went utterly silent. Annabel never contradicted her friends, especially Dorcas, who Lily knew she admired more. She had probably secretly liked Peter for quite awhile, but never acknowledged it because she was afraid of what her friends would say.
An hour later, Lily bid them good-night as they left for Hufflepuff Cellar. Dorcas and Annabel turned in for bed in stony silence, both knowing they would forget their tiff by morning, but refusing to speak to each other all the same.
The next morning over breakfast, Dorcas and Annabel's quiet reconciliation was interrupted by a tall, raven-haired boy running towards the Hufflepuff table.
"Meadowes! Meadowes!" Heads turned to stare as Sirius Black ran across the Great Hall, waving his hands in the air. "I got something for you," he gasped, crashing onto the bench beside Dorcas.
"What's this?" Annabel laughed. "You're friends now?"
"What's wrong with you?" Dorcas hissed, but she knew he wouldn't be able to answer. Whatever Piper gave him had addled his brains.
Speaking of, the Ravenclaw harlot was sidling out of the Hall, casting scathing glares at Dorcas over her shoulder.
"Come on, Black," she ordered, standing up.
"Where are we going?"
"To talk to Piper."
Black followed obediently like a puppy trailing happily after her. No doubt Potter had noticed his best friend behaving strangely, because he joined them between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables.
"Any clue what's going on?" he asked.
"I've got a shrewd idea." Dorcas emerged from the Great Hall and pointed her wand at Piper, who had her foot on the bottom step of the marble staircase. "Impedimenta! What did you give him, Piper?"
The frozen girl spoke haltingly because of the jinx. "Don't—what—talking—"
"Yes, you do. What was in Black's water bottle yesterday afternoon?" Dorcas insisted. "I swear to God, I'll hit you with a Boxing Hex."
Dorcas was well known for this particular hex, and not many people would defy her when threatened with a sound beating.
"A—mor—ten—tia."
"What! That doesn't explain why he's suddenly my shadow. Did you give him some of my Amortentia?"
"—No. Slughorn—gave—P."
Dorcas groaned and Potter gaped.
"Why would you give anyone a potion that receives a failing grade!"
The spell lifted a second later and Piper practically flew up the stairs to get away from Dorcas. Potter looked down at his hand. Piper had shoved a crumpled scroll at him while she fled.
Grade: P
This potion is non-specific. A key ingredient is missing, that is, a portion of yourself. The only affect of this potion will be a reinforcement of already present feelings.
"Then why is he stalking me?" Dorcas wondered, reading over Potter's shoulder. He cast her a reproachful glare, obviously not used to girls being able to see clearly over his shoulder. "Whatever. Not the point. Come on, Black, we're going to get an antidote."
"Hey, Prongs, we're going to get an antidote," Black said happily.
"No, Potter can't come."
Black spun around, glaring daggers at his best friend and speaking like a selfish two-year-old, "Yeah, Potter, you can't come!"
"Oh for Merlin's sake!" the girl cried, tugging at Black's arm. When they were halfway up the staircase, Lily came strolling out of the Great Hall. Dorcas's voice drifted down to her. "And be nice to him, he's your best friend."
"What's up with Sirius?" Lily asked.
James was apparently shocked that Lily was speaking so genially to him because he started, then stared for several moments.
"Piper gave him a botched love potion."
"Not the Amortentia w—you brewed?" she giggled. She headed for Ancient Runes her laughter growing louder as she walked away from James.
Lily was nearly to the Ancient Runes corridor (and still laughing sporadically) when she heard a rustling movement behind her. Expecting to see Mrs. Havisham, Filch's calico cat, she turned and glared at ankle-height. What she saw, however, was not the skin-and-bones cat. It was a pair of high-heeled buckled boots.
"Oh!" Lily cried, looking up.
"Ah, Miss Evans, just the student I was looking for," Headmaster Dumbledore said serenely. "Accompany me to my office?"
It was not a request and Lily knew it. Guilt and terror flooded her brain. He knew! He must know. Of course Dumbledore would find out, even if every other professor and student was too dumb to realize that she had been acting strangely (that is to say, Garry was acting strangely … or actually would it be that she was acting odd … No, because Garry …). Lily decided it was too confusing to think about too much.
"Professor Vector will have to excuse you from today's lesson. I'm afraid this is far too important."
Lily had been never been to the Headmaster's office before. Dorcas, having lessons with Dumbledore once a week, knew the circular room as well as any classroom and had talked about it on many occasions. Everything was like she had described it—the snoozing portraits, the whirling silver objects, and the chintz armchairs.
Lily found that she couldn't respond to the Headmaster. Her throat was constricted and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her head was spinning from adrenaline, and for one terrible moment, she thought she might fall over. Then Dumbledore motioned her into a chair as he sat behind his desk.
"What an odd occurrence to run into the very student I was hoping to seek down the Ancient Runes corridor. Lucky Peeves was terrorizing Mr. Filch."
Lily almost laughed—almost. His nonchalant voice eased her foreboding somewhat, although she was still sure he knew about the Polyjuice Potion. She knew for a fact that Dumbledore was a Legilimens because he had taught Dorcas Occlumency. She was uncomfortably aware that he could be seeing everything she was thinking.
"I would like to know, Miss Evans, what you learned this weekend."
For a moment, Lily was tempted to lie, to blurt out some elaborate story about all the studying for exams she had done. But she couldn't bring herself to be dishonest with Professor Dumbledore, who had had enough faith in her to make her a prefect.
Having decided to confess to everything, she wasn't sure where to begin. Had she really learned anything new in Arden? They had used their textbooks on all but one assignment, but she could have brewed any of those potions or gathered any plants with instructions. Even the homework assigned for her other classes was mostly review.
What she had learned had nothing to do with academia. She had thought Potter was a one dimensional miscreant, that he only asked her out because he was bored, that he delighted in playing the bully. But he was more than that. Deep down, he was a good guy. If only he would show that side more often, she might not always say no when he asked her to Hogsmeade.
"I'm sorry, sir," Lily began, "I think I broke about a dozen rules for entirely the wrong reasons."
"And why is that, Miss Evans?" Lily saw a sparkle in his eye, and she had the sudden desire to tell someone her true feelings. She didn't think Dumbledore would expel her if she was truthful.
"All I learned was that maybe I like a certain boy who has annoyed me for six years."
"Indeed?" He looked very happy all of a sudden. "Your good friend Miss Meadowes has mentioned it a few times during our lessons."
"Wha—. Dorcas hates James. Why would she talk about him?"
"Oh, I daresay she doesn't remember it, but Occlumency lessons bring out a side of her few have ever seen," he replied enigmatically. "By the look on your face, you're as confused as Miss Meadowes would be if I said this to her."
"Sir, I …" Lily paused, taking a deep breath. She knew what she had to do. "… I need to resign as Gryffindor prefect. I've broken too many rules, sir, and I can't enforce what I don't respect."
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "That is very noble of you, Miss Evans. I wonder, will Miss Meadowes also resign?"
"W—What? Dorcas didn't have anything …"
But she trailed off. Of course. Dumbledore had known about their plan long before they'd gone on the Field Study. He had Occlumency lessons with Dorcas every week. Lily doubted her best friend was skilled enough to keep Dumbledore out of her mind.
"I decline your offer, Miss Evans. Your remorse is sincere. I see no need to inform the whole school of what you've done."
"But, sir, my punishment—"
"—shall be that you receive no credit for all the hard work you did this weekend. Now, I believe I should locate Peeves before his behavior causes our caretaker to explode with undue fury."
Evans walked away laughing, leaving James alone in the entrance hall.
He shook his head. As much as he wanted to contemplate Evans's sudden swing in behavior, he had been meaning to talk to Meade this morning. He knew they both had a free period after breakfast and wanted to make the most of it. James might not like the Ravenclaw Captain very much, but he had promised to discuss Quidditch strategy, and James Potter always kept his word.
"Oi, Meade!" James called.
Meade had been lurking around the Charms corridor, probably waiting for Flitwick to return so he could ask for the new Ravenclaw Common Room password. That, or his abysmal Charms skills needed tutoring.
"Oh, it's you, Potter. I've already booked the pitch for practice tonight, Thursday, and all day Saturday."
"You're not even playing any more matches this year! Gryffindor needs that time to beat Slytherin. You do want Slytherin beat, don't you?"
"Of course I do!" he responded, puffing his chest out importantly. "If Gryffindor beats Slytherin by two hundred points, you'll win the Quidditch Cup. But if you only win by one-hundred and fifty, you tie Ravenclaw for first. We'll have to play another match, and I'm making sure my team is ready."
James ground his teeth. Like he needed reminding that Longbottom had missed the Snitch in the second game of the season because was making eyes at Alice Hall! Of course James knew the stakes of the game, which was why he needed the pitch more than Ravenclaw.
"Fine, if it's all about the glory of our own House instead of ours versus Slytherin, why did you even mention talking about a strategy for recruiting stronger teams next year?"
"What? Why would I talk strategy with you? Gryffindor is the reason Ravenclaw hasn't won the Quidditch Cup in six years."
"I don't know! You brought it up, Meade!"
"When?" the other boy demanded.
"The first night on the Field Study! Like you don't remember!"
"Oh … right. The Field Study." For a minute, he seemed to lose some of his composure. "I wasn't exactly myself on the Field Study."
"What you talking about?" James snapped.
"Let's just say, I made a deal with someone. I stayed behind, they went instead."
"That's rubbish. I saw you."
"You didn't see me."
"Fine. Then who—"
But James didn't need to finish the question. The answer hit him like a brick wall. "Meade" had pushed him to the edge of his patience trying to dissuade him from pursuing Evans. "Meade" had grown uncharacteristically hostile at seemingly random moments. "Meade" had been impressed by what he said about Evans.
Without another word, James sprinted down the corridor. He saw Meadowes and Sirius at the end of the hall, apparently bickering and it looked like they had both pulled out their wands. James skidded to a halt, grabbing onto Sirius for some help and pulling his friend to the ground in the process.
"Where's Lily?"
"Lily?" Meadowes wondered blankly.
"You know, short, red hair, I've liked her since the moment I saw her."
"Oh. Right. Ancient Runes."
James was off again, ignoring Sirius's protests as he pelted around the corner. He would just have to wait for Evans outside the classroom. No, he couldn't wait that long. He needed to see her. First, he would demand an explanation. Then, he would apologize for hexing her in the face. Then, he was going to kiss her whether she liked it or not. Well, no, not really. But was sure going to try … and probably get slapped.
"Evans!" James cried, bursting into the Ancient Runes class.
Professor Vector stopped in mid-sentence, her wands suspended at an odd angle. The translation on the chalkboard stopped revealing itself immediately. The short witch seemed to be deciding how best to handle this intrusion.
"With the Headmaster," she replied.
James was racing down the hall a second later. He hit a suit of armor as he rounded another corner. The steel flew helter-skelter across the hallway, causing the portrait of a rotund old wizard to laugh raucously and the bust of Melvin the Misguided to turn curiously in his direction.
"Hey, you! Hoodlum! Good job!"
At last, James reached the hall of the seventh-floor that led to the Headmaster's office. The gargoyle jumped aside and two people stepped off the revolving staircase. It was Dumbledore with Evans.
James felt a horrible pang in his chest. She had already confessed! He knew no one could lie to Dumbledore, and he doubted Evans had even considered it. She was going to be expelled! She wasn't seventeen yet. They would snap her wand in half and she would go back to living as a Muggle. He would never see her fiery hair again, never hear her screaming at him, and never convince her to go on a date with him.
"Professor Dumbledore," James shouted, "there's been a huge mistake! It … it was me! Evans had nothing to do with it."
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose slightly, but he said nothing. Maybe he was willing to listen, maybe he wanted to hear James's theory on how Evans had had no choice but to take Polyjuice Potion and confess to it.
"I made her do it. I brewed Polyjuice Potion and forced her to drink it so that she could come on the Field Study. I wanted to spend some time with her and get to know her better, because … well, I like her." He felt a bit awkward saying this to the Headmaster, but there was nothing for it now. "You see, I used a very powerful Cheering Charm and she went all giddy and said she'd do anything for me. Well, it was better than Imperiusing her."
"True," Dumbledore mumbled, or James thought he did.
"So … anyway, I knew Evans would never forgive me if I made her turn into Meadowes or Knight, you know because … they're … friends … and Evans would want her friends to get post-Hogwarts credits," he rushed. He was sweating now and absently wiped his brow with his sleeve.
"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore began.
"So you see it was all my fault and not Evans's at all, so you don't have to expel her! It wouldn't be right—"
"Mr. Potter!" Dumbledore cried, his aged voice straining to be heard over James's frantic storytelling. The young man fell silent immediately. "That was quite an economical version of the truth and admirable in intention. However, Miss Evans has already confessed, as has Miss Meadowes, and forgive me, but I am more apt to believe their version of events. I assure you, Mr. Potter, had both young ladies not told the truth, they would have been expelled. Now, if you'll excuse me, there is a poltergeist I need to find and a caretaker to allay."
"So …," James began when Dumbledore was out of earshot, "you and Meadowes aren't in any trouble?"
"Oh, I expect we're in much more trouble than she or I can ever know. He'll be keeping an eye on us, I'm sure, and we won't get a third chance," she replied. "Why did you do that? If that had been anyone else, they might have believed you and then you'd be in a bind."
James shuffled his feet. "I was just …"
"… being chivalrous."
James looked up sharply, hardly believing his ears. Did Evans just compliment him? She certainly wasn't looking mutinous. Inside, he was whooping ecstatically. All his hard work had finally paid off! Six years of suave seduction and Evans was all his.
"Although I wish you would let me fight my own battles, I don't really have a right to be angry with you," she explained. "After all, I did deceive you."
"That's right! You did!"
Suddenly James felt very somber. He wasn't exactly happy that he'd made a fool of himself in front of Evans, but her evil plan to thwart his affections had backfired on her, hadn't it? He was more determined than ever to make her his girlfriend. And now he had ammunition. He knew what she wanted, what she liked about him, and what she didn't.
Evans seemed braced for a tongue lashing or sound hexing. James would have reacted that way on Thursday, but now, on Tuesday, he knew that Evans thought more of him. She expected him to be mature.
"Did Dumbledore mention Hogsmeade at all?" James wondered. He didn't miss the disappointed expression on Evans's face. "Because if you're allowed to go, I'll be in the Three Broomsticks around noon if you wanted to talk."
Evans's eyes were the size of saucers. Right on the Galleon, James thought. He'd never been gentlemanly when he asked her out before. Not that he'd ever exactly asked. "Hey, Evans, come to Hogsmeade with me" wasn't the kind of invitation she was looking for.
Her mouth moved silently for a few moments. "I'll think about it."
"Great," James said, smiling. "I've got Care of Magical Creatures. See you later."