Author's Notes:
- HP is copyrighted and not by me
- Chinese New Year's coming up, I might not get out updates as quickly for the next week or so.
Chapter 29: We Need to Talk
Harry got up bright and early on Monday, well before the sun came up. He had an hour before he was supposed to see Hermione. Half an hour to clean up, get changed, and then another half an hour of waiting just to be safe. He ended up sitting in one of the armchairs in the common room, watching the girls' stairs. Wait, this doesn't look good, he realized. He got up from the chair and stood facing the stairs with his arms crossed. Ack! This makes me look like I'm angry or something, he thought as he placed his hands in his pockets. No, too casual. He put his arms behind him. Pacing back and forth, he started to worry that being empty-handed in itself wasn't a good idea. He tried conjuring a few flowers, but a once-living, highly detailed object was difficult to make. The first one, a rose, came out looking more like a big, red daisy. He tried a tulip instead, hoping that the simpler flower would work better. He ended up making something with the proper shape, but it had one giant cup-shaped petal. He kept trying one after the other and forgot about the time.
"You know, you don't have to conjure them individually. There's a spell for making flowers. Orchideous." Harry looked up to see Hermione standing there at the top of the stairs with a small bouquet sprouting from her wand. He dropped his latest attempt on to the pile at his feet. The earlier attempts were already vanishing, but he was still ankle-deep in poorly conjured flowers.
"Oh... I didn't know that. Um... these are for you?" Harry couldn't believe he had become so distracted.
"Oh, wow. These are some of the... ugliest flowers I've ever seen," Hermione said, picking one up off the floor. "Except maybe the Rafflesia flower. But I guess it's the thought that counts." She giggled lightly, twirling the misshapen flower in her hands.
"Orchideous. Oh, wow, that was easy," Harry said, trying out the bouquet spell. "Why don't you take these ones instead?"
She took the flowers from him and sniffed them. "Thanks, Harry. Let's sit down. We need to talk."
Harry did, noting that Hermione also set up a strong silencing and notice-me-not wards around the couch. This couldn't be a good thing. "Uh, should we go somewhere more private? Wards are good and all, but if we have to keep a secret..."
"No, this doesn't really have anything to do with our... OWL project, Harry. I wanted to talk to you about... you."
"What about me? I understand what you meant after the duel, and I'm sorry I went overboard..."
"I know, Harry, and I accept your apology... but now that I've given it some more thought... how should I put this? I think it's a symptom of a bigger problem."
"A bigger problem? What do you mean?"
"Do you remember the night before the first Trial of Champions?"
Harry smiled. That was a memorable night for him, and not one he'd forget that easily. "Of course. That was right after our practice duel. That's when I really realized how important you were to me." He had a sinking feeling in his heart as he awaited Hermione's response. Her feelings hadn't changed, had they?
Hermione sensed his tension building, and responded reassuringly, "I still meant everything I said. I love you, Harry, and I always want you to be a part of my life. But some of the things you said... well, they felt romantic at the time, and I guess it might have been the atmosphere or something else... but I'm worried."
"What was it that I said?" asked Harry.
"Do you really mean you have nothing else to live for, Harry? I know the Dursleys treat you badly, and I'm sorry your parents are gone... but surely I'm not the only thing in your life that keeps you going, am I? What do you want to do with your life?"
Harry paused for a few seconds, but ended up with only a weak, "I do have to kill Voldemort..."
"What you want to do, Harry, not what you have to. What if you could forget all that destiny and fate rubbish and just let the adults handle it? What would you do with your life then?"
"I've never given it much thought. Get through the tournament this year. Get through school. Live out my life with you." He gave a half-hearted smile at the last line.
"So you really don't have any goals for your life, do you? This year, at least, you've got a nice temporary goal of winning the tournament, and you're putting a lot of energy into it- more effort than I've seen you put into anything else, to be honest."
She was right, of course. The first three years he had been forced into do-or-die situations and he was scared out of his mind every time, but the tournament had never really put his life on the line. He could have conceded and put in a lacklustre effort, but he still fought for the prize as if he were facing Voldemort again. And he had started to enjoy it. "Yeah, I guess I have. It's fun, putting my passion into the events."
"And all of them are just... temporary. The tournament will be over at the end of the year. We'll defeat Voldemort somehow... I'm sure of it... before we're twenty. I'm not sure if I could be the only thing for you to dedicate your life to, Harry. I want to stand beside you, not hold you up."
Once again, Hermione was talking concepts that he'd never thought of before and was having a hard time understanding, but he knew that this time it wasn't just because he hadn't read the same books as her. "How about you, then? Could I get some examples from you?" he asked for clarification.
"Me? I want to change wizarding society completely. Bring it up to modern muggle standards. Get rid of the bigotry and racism, equal rights for sentient beings instead of just labelling them as 'creatures', oh, and learn as much as I can, of course."
Harry was stunned. Hermione had such lofty goals... a few of which she might not see within her lifetime, but they were certainly goals she could strive for her entire life. He didn't have anything that came close. "I'm... going to have to think about that for a while."
"Thanks, Harry. That's all I really wanted for now. I didn't expect you suddenly decide to build a city on the moon or something right now... I just want to know that you'll be thinking about your own life a bit more." Hermione got up, dispelling the wards she had set up earlier. "We should go to breakfast. Are you coming to Potions?"
"No, I have to actually study my potions." Harry had spent most of the last few weeks of potions deliberately getting on Snape's nerves, and had actually learned more about potions in the process. While the rest of the class worked on theirs by following the textbook, Harry had often deliberately made mistakes in his. Sometimes he stirred too quickly or too little, other times he would drop ingredients out of order, or vary the temperature here and there. While initially it was to both annoy the professor and waste a few ingredients, Harry soon began taking notes as he discovered some of his intentional mistakes had consistent and predictable results. Brewing wasn't nearly as dangerous as Snape had implied, and Neville must have been some kind of genius to make his potions keep exploding, because Harry only managed it once, despite his efforts. He was beginning to learn far more about potions with his little experimentation than simply following the recipes. In fact, it was a lot like cooking, which he did a lot for the Dursleys. It was odd coincidence how both Potions class and cooking for two tubs of lard were both the most distasteful routines in his life.
"What?" Hermione cocked her head to the side, with a smile. She was glad that Harry was still able to make a joke after such a serious discussion. She did also learn to enjoy Harry's potions experiments, after he began to take notes, at least.
"The next task is the Trial of Earth. And Bagman gave us a hint. He just said 'study your potions.' I'll be going to the library," Harry explained. "I actually need to learn the potions instead of learn about brewing in general, so I'll be reading some textbooks." It would also give him a nice, quiet place to think if he got bored of reading, and Hermione had given him a lot to think about.
"Alright then. I'm still looking forward to what you've planned for Valentine's, Harry."
"You're going to love it," Harry assured her.
The potions research was actually a lie. Partial lie, at least. He intended to sneak out to Hogsmeade that morning and study potions later, when he got back. He had a particular piece of jewellery to buy, and if they didn't have it, then he'd pay them to make one. Taking the passage through the one-eyed witch into Hogsmeade, he stayed under his invisibility cloak until he was at the jeweller's. Navigating through town was far simpler on a school day- Harry never noticed before, but the students made up more than three-quarters of the pedestrians during Hogsmeade weekends.
"Hello there... oh, you're a Hogwarts student. Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?" the owner of the shop, Henry MacCullan, said with a quick glance from his newspaper.
"Not if I don't want to," Harry answered.
"You're gonna regret skiving off class when you're looking for a job in a few years, kid," the man said. "You'd better not... Oh! Mr. Potter!" He finally put down his paper and got a good look at Harry. He was the one from whom Harry had bought Hermione's earrings.
"Yes, I'm back. I'd like a locket. Two of them, in fact. They need to be able to hold a small photo inside." Harry had the picture of the New Year's Ball in mind.
"Why didn't you come here yesterday? I'm sold out of little love-lockets. Seems like the French boys all wanted to buy one for their belles. Not that I'd turn down their business, but they could use a little more independent thinking, you know."
Harry hesitated, wondering if this was a problem. He didn't think he was being especially creative, but he also didn't think that everyone else had been buying lockets as well. Still, he had already received the extra copies of the photos from Colin and a locket would be a nice place to have a copy. "Then could you make me one? I guess I might as well stick to birthstones... Hermione's is sapphire, mine would be... rubies?" For the next hour, he and Mr. MacCullan discussed what Harry wanted. They would be two golden lockets that mirrored each other with a lion and lioness. A single ruby or sapphire would adorn each one, and they opened up to contain a picture of their kiss at the ball. The jeweller initially balked at the idea of completing both by tomorrow, but agreed to it when Harry paid him up front.
Finally satisfied, Harry realized this was the perfect time to ask a few questions that had been on his mind. "Do you know about storing magic inside gemstones?"
"You can use a wand to charge it up, for sure. If you just force some random magic inside, they'll sparkle brighter, o' course. I could do that for you, free o' charge. It's not too difficult."
"Well, what about storing magic and releasing it later, for casting spells?" Harry asked.
"Oh, are you talking about Mr. Diggory's caster-glove? Yes, impressive stuff, I have to say. I can't do that for your locket, for a couple o' reasons. First, them half-carat ruby and sapphire you picked won't hold much. One spell, nothing too powerful. Diamonds are the best, o'course. Half-carat diamond could hold a few spells." Harry figured as much. Cedric's glove was studded with dozens of gems, and it only held about thirty spells.
"And the next problem is the material. The gold locket won't conduct magic. None of them metals will."
Harry was surprised. "But Cedric's glove was made of gold... or something that looked liked gold. It was definitely metal."
"Sheesh, do I look like a goblin to you, mate?" Seeing Harry's confused expression, he went on. "Only goblins know how to make metals that can channel and contain magic, Mr. Potter. I thought that was common knowledge. 's why goblin steel and jewellery is so damn valuable. None of them will share their secret with us wizards."
"I'm muggle-raised, but thanks for telling me," Harry growled. Situations like these always reminded him how his life had been completely different from what everyone always thought he was. "So if you made jewellery out of something that could channel magic... like... wood..."
"What kind of daft fool would buy a three-galleon jewel and stick it on a three-knut piece of wood? Look, a word of advice- if you're worried about how you can cast spells if you lose your wand... buy a second wand."
"Fine, fine... thanks for the tip," Harry muttered as he left. It was well after lunch by the time he got back to the castle, grabbed some lunch from the kitchens and went straight to the library.
Studying wasn't going as well as Harry had imagined. On the long walks to and from Hogsmeade, he had a lot of time to think about his talk with Hermione that morning. What did he want to do with his life? The thoughts trickled into his mind as he looked through the various books.
Look after Sirius? Harry thought as he looked through the table of contents of the upper-year potions texts. No, I just need to clear his name. That'll happen after I catch Pettigrew. He's certainly not some old senior that needs tending to.
He sighed, finding nothing of use. What the heck does an Earth-based potion mean anyways? At least that meant he was in the same boat as the others. His eyes fell on a book on magical fertilizers and potions. Maybe I can solve world hunger or something. That's rather vague. Does that mean I have to be a farmer or something? Abandoning the idea, he turned his focus back on to potions.
Once he'd realized the Trial of Earth would take only a day, if the current pattern held true, he ruled out all the potions that required more than a few hours to brew, as well as the ones whose effects weren't immediate. From this book, there were only three that fit the bill. One was a Bloom potion, which made a flower bloom immediately no matter what season it was, although it died just as quickly afterwards. Another was a simple plant maturation potion that aged a plant several weeks in a day, and the last one was a soil-softening potion, which turned subsoil into topsoil. The problem was that the first two seemed to deal more with plants than earth while the last one didn't feel like something that tested a Triwizard champion's mettle.
Is there anything I could use my fame for other than be the subject of gossip? He turned back to wondering as he put down the agriculture-potion book. I hate the way the Prophet keeps paying Skeeter for those articles. Teen Witch Weekly is almost as bad, but hopefully they'll stop when I get older. Maybe I should start my own newspaper, he concluded. The idea didn't go very far, though, as he really didn't enjoy writing articles himself, nor did he fancy being an editor. Hermione always caught mistakes in his essays when she proofread for him, anyways. He just wanted to own one, and the only reason for that was to stop all the gossip.
Harry sighed. Whatever he had decided for his future, he didn't want it to involve potions. He was sure of that much at least. He tried searching for potions that used rocks as an ingredient. Unfortunately, there wasn't a convenient tome of "rock-based potions" to pull off the shelves. He ended up picking a few out and flipping through the ingredient lists, seeing if any potions matched his criteria. Four books later and he was still empty-handed. If Hermione were here, I'd be getting this done twice as fast, he thought dejectedly. No, three times as fast. She can absorb books faster than I can skim them, he corrected himself. He left his piles of books to go to the front of the library and check the clock, hoping to see if classes were over so that he could continue the studying with Hermione. He was surprised to find that dinner had already started. Classes had ended hours ago.
He ran up to the Great Hall, where the Gryffindor table was oddly empty. An entire section of students were missing- the fourth-year students. Upon seeing him, Angelina immediately said, "Harry, I think you should go visit the Hospital Wing right now." Harry didn't wait a second as he bolted from the Great Hall.
The hospital wing contained a surprising number of Gryffindors- about half a dozen, in fact. Most of them were in coughing and in mild pain, but conscious. Hermione, however, was laying in her bed with her eyes closed. "Hermione!" he cried out as he ran to her side. Seeing no response, he asked, "What happened?" to nobody in particular.
"Her potion blew up," came the response from the next bed over. Ron was laying there with a few empty potions vials next to him. "And where were you? Funny how the moment Hermione needs help you're nowhere to be found. Some Gryffindor you are. Or did you just let it happen just because she broke up with you?"
Rumours of their relationship troubles had been greatly exaggerated, as rumours often were. He was about to retort angrily, but Neville spoke up from further down. "Oh, come off it, Ron, everyone knows it was Malfoy. Are you actually taking the Slytherins' side on this one?"
"Of course not! I'd never defend those slimy snakes!" Ron's excitement led him to a fit of coughing. "But the day after they have a spat, Harry doesn't show up and Hermione gets hurt? You keep telling me I'm jealous, but at least I was there to help her out!"
"You practically fell on top of her, coughing," snorted Seamus, on the next bed over. "I wouldn't call that helping."
"Wait, what did Malfoy do? Why are there so many of you in here?" Harry directed his question to Neville this time, hoping to get a straight answer.
"Well... nobody actually saw him do it, but he was smirking like he knew what was going on. Hermione's potion blew up, and all of us nearby caught a whiff of the stuff and we fell down coughing. Hermione caught it right in her face, though, and she just dropped to the floor. The ones who weren't helping us up ended up attacking the Slytherins. Snape gave all the Gryffindors detentions, except for us who had to go to the Hospital wing. Of course, the Slytherins get away as usual," Neville explained with a hoarse voice.
"Snape even gave detentions to the ones who were helping us," Ron spat bitterly.
By then, Madam Pomfrey had heard the commotion and was coming forward with a tray full of potions. "Mr. Potter, I'm glad to see you've finally arrived, but as you can tell, Miss Granger is not in any condition for visitors. You can help me distribute these Breath Freshener potions."
"Why would they need...?" Harry didn't understand why sweet-smelling breath would be important to their recovery.
"It helps clean out the lungs if you inhale something bad," Neville explained. "I've had these before... several times a year, to be honest," he admitted with some embarrassment. Evidently, a fresh breath meant something slightly different to wizards than it did to muggles.
"Thank you, Mr. Longbottom, although I have to say I'm glad that this is the first time I've had to administer this potion to you this school year," Madam Pomfrey smiled as she carefully dripped a few drops into Hermione's mouth. "Don't worry, Mr. Potter, I'll have her up and running in a few hours. This is a pretty common affliction."
"Yeah, don't I know it," Neville laughed weakly, which turned into more coughing. "Although I have to say that one potion usually does the trick."
"Perhaps I just need to order a fresher batch of freshener," Madam Pomfrey said. "I was expecting to use up the first batch months ago..."
"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Neville responded. He seemed to be the one student who saw Madam Pomfrey more often than Harry did, and they could chat like friends.
Harry, however, was worried. What had Malfoy done? What if it wasn't just a routine potions mishap, and the potions weren't effective for another reason? What if Hermione didn't recover? He couldn't bear to lose her, especially when he had just promised her the best night of her life tomorrow. He had to be sure... and to do that, he needed to find Malfoy.
Tracking down Draco was easy with the Marauder's Map in hand. The problem was separating him from his goons so he could have some time alone to interrogate him. As usual, he was being flanked by Crabbe and Goyle as he marched through the halls. Harry waited under his invisibility cloak, tailing them until the three were alone in a corridor. With a quick stunning spell at Crabbe and Goyle, the two beefy bodyguards dropped straight to the floor. Draco looked around and panicked when he didn't see anyone. Harry stunned him before he could even draw his wand, and then petrified and bound him for good measure. Draco was still using a wand-holster- Harry removed it and kept the wand in his pocket. Now he faced the problem of moving them somewhere for interrogation.
There was no way he would be moving all three, so he just levitated Draco's body. He cast simple confounding charms on the other two left them on the floor. He looked at the map, searching for an unused classroom that was more secluded to do the interrogating. That was a problem... to get to any of them, Harry would have to walk past crowds of students or professors. He wasn't going to get snug with Draco underneath his cloak. Then again... he only had to hide Draco, didn't he?
Harry took off his cloak and threw it over Draco's body. Perfect. Now he kept one hand on Draco's invisible shoulder as he walked down the hall, keeping the invisible Slytherin hovering close by so he wouldn't bump into anyone. He wasn't quite as careful about not letting Draco bump into things, like corners. He was still trying to navigate to the empty third floor corridor (where a three-headed dog once resided) when he realized he was walking past the second-floor girl's bathroom. Even better, Harry realized.
"Oooh, I heard your girlfriend was dying, Harry," Myrtle cheerfully greeted Harry as he entered.
"She's not dying," Harry answered firmly, though he'd find out for sure in a few minutes.
"Shouldn't you have jumped in front of her and used your body as a shield? Then, when you died, she could have kept your fleshy body to mourn over and your spirit can come haunt the castle with me!" Myrtle suggested, brimming with glee.
That was a little too morbid for his taste in jokes, even with a ghost. "If that happened, I'd haunt Hermione to keep her company instead. But you know what? If things don't go as planned for me, you might have a new companion soon." Myrtle squealed in delight and into a toilet. Finally rid of the ghost, he spoke the parseltongue password to the sink. Pulling his invisibility cloak off Draco to keep it clean, they slid down the tube and eventually made their way to the main chamber.
Harry laid Malfoy in the center of the chamber, choosing to use Malfoy's wand to maintain a weak Lumos, keeping most of the chamber shrouded in darkness. He wondered if Draco was afraid of the dark... he could always test that out if the boy was uncooperative. "Enervate. Hello, Malfoy. I'm here to ask you a few questions." Realizing Malfoy was trying to speak, but couldn't move anything but his eyes, he added, "Oh, silly me. Finite." He removed the petrification spell but kept the ropes on him.
"You've got nothing on me, Potter. That filthy mudblood just got what was coming to her. Insufferable know-it-all finally got her potions wrong," Draco smirked. "You think you're going to get away with this?"
Harry practiced his internal occlumency to keep himself as calm as possible. It wouldn't do to knock Draco out again when he needed to get information out of him. "Malfoy, you must be stupider than Goyle if you think I believe that story for one second. Now what did you do to Hermione's potion?"
"From where I was standing, it looked like the powdered billagrut shell just blew up in her face because she didn't add it properly. Even Madam Pomfrey said so," Draco was still smirking confidently. Harry could tell through his legilimency that Draco wasn't exactly lying, but there was deception. This was a rehearsed response.
"Shut it, Malfoy. You're lying, and I can tell. You need more practice with that. Aren't Slytherins supposed to be good at lying? Now tell me what you did to her potion."
Draco remained as arrogant as he could be, tied up and on the floor. "You're going to Azkaban for this, Potter. My father will make sure of it. If that mudblood dies, all the better."
Harry wasn't thinking that far ahead, but it would be his word against Draco's, anyways. The threat against Hermione's life didn't pass by unnoticed, though. "Now why would you think she was dying of a simple potions mishap, Malfoy? Neville gets them several times a year. She should be better by now."
Draco hesitated, realizing what the slip of his tongue had revealed. He remained silent.
"Tell me, Malfoy. Tell me before I have to hurt you for it." Harry was starting to have a little difficulty staying calm now.
"Hurt me? This is revenge, Potter. You broke my wand. I'm just taking away your wench."
Harry's eyes widened in fury. "I'm going to tell you a short story, because I don't want to waste too much time, and it really only happened this morning anyways. Hermione and I talked. She pointed out that I really don't have many good things in life, but she's one of them. I've been thinking about it all day, Malfoy, and I've come to realize that, for the moment at least, there aren't many things I'd dedicate my life to other than her. Do you know what happens when you take away a man's only joy in the world?" Draco stared back at him without a reply. "I don't know either, but if it means making you suffer to get her back, then that's what I'll do." He had wanted to say something profound or dramatic, but nothing had come to mind at that moment.
"You're a half-blood bastard, Potter. You goody-goody Gryffindors haven't got the stones to torture someone. The only reason you're not in there is because my father ordered me to keep my hands off you. Like I said, when I'm out of here, you'll be in Azkaban."
"I can't do anything to you? WHEN you get out of here? You sound so sure of that, Malfoy. Do you know where you are? Take a look behind you." Harry rolled Draco with his foot to help him see a huge, scaly wall. When Harry increased the power of his lighting charm, Draco realized he was looking at an enormous, dead basilisk that was thicker than he was tall. "I killed that two years ago. You seriously think you can do anything to me?"
Draco was horror-struck by the sight. Being dead didn't stop the mouthful of poisonous fangs from being amazingly scary. Harry continued. "You get it now, don't you? This is the Chamber of Secrets. Nobody could find it for fifty years after it first opened, and only a parselmouth can open the entrance anyways. You can't get out, and nobody will find you unless I say so. So tell me, you little inbred coward, what did you do to Hermione?"
Draco was finally cracking under the fear of being locked in the chamber. He stammered out, "Wispen b-bone powder. It-it looks s-similar to billagrut shell powder."
"Good. That wasn't so hard, was it, Malfoy? Now what's the antidote?"
"I don't know."
"WHAT IS IT?" Harry couldn't believe that Draco would be stupid enough to use a dangerous substance without knowing its antidote. But then again, Draco probably got into Slytherin for his purebloodedness, not his cunning.
"I said I don't know!" Harry could tell that Draco wasn't lying this time. Now he was stuck down here without an answer. Would Madam Pomfrey know? That was his only hope now.
"Draco, I was going to let you go when you told me how to cure Hermione. Since you don't know, it's up to Madam Pomfrey now. You're going to stay down here until she gets better. Do you have any more advice that could... speed up your own freedom?"
"You can't do this to me, Potter! You-" Harry stunned Draco when it was clear the boy had no more useful information for him and left the Chamber. He ran to the Hospital Wing as quickly as his legs would take him.
"Madam Pomfrey!" he shouted as he burst inside, only to find the woman standing right in front of him.
"No shouting in here, young man!" She berated him in a loud whisper. "I've just put most of my patients to sleep, and it's nearly curfew for you as well. Visiting hours are over."
"No... I've found out why... your potions haven't been working as well as they should have..." he panted out.
"What? What do you mean?" The matron was surprised to hear a student suggest they knew more than she did, but she wasn't arrogant enough to brush off potential insights to a difficult case.
"It was wispen bone powder, not billagrut shell. Someone slipped it into Hermione's potion." Harry realized just then that Draco could only lie so effectively if he hadn't actually done it himself. He needed to find out who the accomplice was... but right now, his concern was for Hermione.
"Professor Snape doesn't use wispen bone in any of our potions, up to NEWT level. I don't think he even keeps any in stock..." she furrowed her brow, but added hesitantly, "You're suggesting this was sabotage?"
"Do you really think the brightest witch of our age who has brewed potions perfectly for years would mess up something this simple?" Harry knew she couldn't have made a mistake- the potion they had been brewing was the Awake and alert potion, a simpler variant to the Pepper-up.
"No, I suppose not. I don't know where you got the idea, but inhaling either of the two would produce similar symptoms... although wispen bone is more painful and lasts longer. It certainly wouldn't hurt to check." Madam Pomfrey went straight to Hermione, trapping some of her breath in some sort of medical device, and she cast a few diagnostic charms. A few minutes later, she put it down. "Ah, it was a mixture of both, actually. I knew I found billagrut shell on my first diagnosis. Thank you, Mr. Potter. I can start brewing up the right potion for them immediately."
"Can I do anything to help?" Harry asked.
Madam Pomfrey sighed. This had to be treated quickly to be most effective, and she needed at least one for each of the students and a double dose for Miss Granger. A second dose for everyone would be better, to be on the safe side, as well as having a few more on hand. That added up to sixteen. She could use the extra help, but said, "From what I've heard, you haven't been attending very many of your potions classes, Mr. Potter. And the ones you have been attending, you didn't do much brewing."
"Oh, I was learning on my own, you see. The Tournament doesn't use many of the fourth-year potions, so I've been practicing a lot. I've actually completed all the fourth-year potions already, and I'm working my way through the OWL potions," Harry pleaded his case.
"I'll let you chop and peel some of the ingredients, but I'll be the one doing the brewing, Mr. Potter. You must follow my directions exactly." She gave him the simplest jobs that most second-years would be able to do, just to be safe. It certainly had been a while since there was a student who had volunteered to brew potions for her. Mr. Potter's mother was one of the last, and ever since Severus had started, she hadn't seen any student willingly approach a cauldron. "It's about time you did some work inside the hospital wing instead of just lying around all the time, isn't it?" she joked.
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." Harry gladly placed his loose outer robes on the chair and washed his hands. "How do we begin?"
Author's Chapter End Notes:
- learning via messing around is fun.
- revisions done. ron's accusation felt a little bit too off, hopefully it works a bit better this time. also, i forgot to mention before that the chamber of secrets has no natural lighting... draco won't know anything about the beacon. i'm sure he hasn't taken ancient runes, either.
