Chapter 29: A Barmy Plan
It was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom I had ever set foot in. Under a large, cracked, and spotted mirror were a row of chipped sinks. The floor was damp and there were a few candles, burning low and mournful in their holders, the wooden doors to the stalls were flaking and scratched, and one of them was dangling off its hinges.
Hermione put her fingers to her lips and set off toward the end stall. When she reached it she said, "Hello, Myrtle, how are you?"
Harry and I peeked in. Moaning Myrtle was floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin.
"This is a girls bathroom," she said, eyes locked on Harry and I. " They're not girls."
"No," Hermione agreed. "I just wanted to show them how er - nice it is in here."
Hermione was really laying it on thick. There wasn't a thing nice in here to see. Even the puddles of water looked sorrowful.
"Ask her if she saw anything," Harry mouthed at Hermione.
"What are you whispering?" said Myrtle, staring at him.
"Nothing," said Harry quickly. "We wanted to ask-"
"I wish people would stop talking behind my back!" said Myrtle, beginning to cry. "I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead!"
"Myrtle, no one wants to upset you." said Hermione, trying to calm her. "Harry only-"
"No one wants to upset me! That's a good one!" howled Myrtle. "My life was nothing but misery at this place and now people come along ruining my death!"
"We wanted to ask you if you've seen anything funny lately." said Hermione quickly. "Because a cat was attacked right outside your front door on Halloween."
"Did you see anyone near here that night?" said Harry.
"I wasn't paying attention," said Myrtle, putting on the theatrics. "Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I'm - that I'm-"
"Already dead?" I said, trying to be helpful. Didn't work.
Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over, and dived headfirst into the toilet, splashing water all over us and vanishing from sight.
Harry and I simply stood with our mouths gaped open, but Hermione shrugged wearily and said, "Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle. Come on, let's go."
We walked slowly and quietly out of the lol. That's when we heard a yell coming from behind us.
"RON!" bellowed a familiar voice. I groaned as we turned around to face my brother Percy, standing there with an angry and shocked expression on his face. His prefects badge shining like a brand new galleon.
"That's a girls bathroom!" the genius gasped. "What were you -?"
"Just having a look around. Clues, you know." I said, shrugging nonchalantly.
Percy swelled in a manner that reminded me of Mum before she was about to have a huge argument.
"Get - away - from - there -" Perry said, yanking my arm and pushing us along. "Don't you care what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner!"
He was really starting to annoy me, trying to act like a parent.
"Why shouldn't we be here?" I said, glaring at Percy. "Listen, we never laid a finger on that cat!"
"That's what I told Ginny, but she still seems to think you're going to be expelled." said Percy, as if he actually cared. "I've never seen her so upset, crying her eyes out, you might think of her , all the first years are thoroughly over excited by this business-"
"You don't care about Ginny!" I yelled, growing angrier by the second. " You're just worried I'm going to mess up your chances of being Head Boy!"
"Five points from Gryffindor!" Percy said pointing to his prefect badge. "And I hope it teaches you a lesson! No more detective work , or I'll write to Mum!"
And with that, he strutted off.
We made our way back to the common room in silence. I had nothing to say. I was way too pissed.
Percy used to be a more caring fellow until he had discovered he could be in a position of power. He started to lord over us like a ruler instead of a big brother, and a lot of the times, Ginny and I would get the worst of it. He was always quick to tell us what to do and how to act, and he had been on Ginny a lot for some reason. He acted as if Ginny was a plain old first year, and not his one and only baby sister. It irritated me to no end.
Harry, Hermione, and I chose seats as far as possible from Percy in the common room when we got there. I was still fuming while doing my Charms homework. I smudged my work some, so when I tried to remove the smudges with my broken wand, it ignited the parchment, thus pissing me off even more. I was over it. I slammed The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 shut. To Harry and my surprise, Hermione followed suit.
"Who can it be, though?" she said in a quiet voice. "Who'd want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggleborns out of Hogwarts?"
"Let's think." I said in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks Muggleborns are scum?"
I looked at Hermione, who practically read my mind, but was unconvinced.
"If you're talking about Malfoy-"
"Of course I am!" I whispered harshly. "You heard him, 'You'll be next, Mudbloods!' Come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him!"
"Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?" said Hermione skeptically.
"Look at his family." chimed in Harry. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin, he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough."
"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries! Handing it down, father to son."
"Well," said Hermione cautiously, "I suppose it's possible..."
"But how do we prove it?" wondered Harry.
Hermione looked deep in thought. "There might be a way," said Hermione slowly, glancing around to room to make sure we were far enough away from people to not be overheard. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect-"
"If, in a month or so, you feel like explaining, you will let us know, won't you?" I said, getting irritated.
"All right." said Hermione, glaring coldly at me. "What we'd need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realizing it's us."
I couldn't help but laugh. Hermione, you're supposed to be smart.
"But that's impossible," Harry said.
"No, it's not." said Hermione. "All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion."
Harry and I looked at each other and then back at Hermione. "What's that?" we asked together.
Hermione groaned. "Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago..."
"D'you think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Snape?" I said.
"Well you should, as it is indeed one of our classes and we do have exams for it!"
"You were saying, Hermione?" said Harry, silencing the potential argument.
"It transforms you into somebody else. Think about it! We could change into three of the Slytherins. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would probably tell us anything. He's probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him."
"This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me." I said, frowning. "What if we were stuck looking like three of the Slytherins forever? I don't want to look like Zabini or fucking Nott for the rest of my life."
"It wears off after a while." said Hermione, waving her hand impatiently. "But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library." There was only one way to get out a book from the Restricted Section: You needed a signed note of permission from a teacher."
"Hard to see why we'd want the book, really, if we weren't going to try and make one of the potions."
"I think," said Hermione, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance...
"Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that." I said, rolling my eyes. "They'd have to be really thick."
"No..." said Harry, smirking. "They would just have to be Lockhart."
Since the pixies episode, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read from his boring ass books to us. He even acted them out sometimes, usually picking Harry to help him. So far, Harry had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Lockhart had cured of a Babbling Curse, a yeti with a head cold, and a vampire who had been unable to eat anything except lettuce since Lockhart had dealt with him.
Harry was a werewolf the next go around.
"Nice loud howl, Harry , exactly! And then, if you'll believe it, I pounced like this, slammed him to the floor, thus with one hand, I managed to hold him down with my other, I put my wand to his throat. I then screwed-"
I began to tune him out. One reason being that I was annoyed at Hermione for staring at him like some lovesick little schoolgirl. I failed to see what the bloody hell witches saw in the git. His adventures seemed like a crock of bull. He didn't look like he would do anything that would get his peacock feathers meaning his clothes) ruffled in the least bit.
The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet.
"Homework! Compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!"
The class began to leave. Harry returned to the back of the room, where Hermione and I were waiting.
"Ready?" Harry muttered.
"Wait till everyone's gone," said Hermione nervously, as she wanted our classmates leave. "All right...let's go."
She approached Lockhart's desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand, with harry and I behind her. I had the quick thought of Hermione probably not being the best one for the task. She really wasn't a good liar.
"Er...Professor Lockhart?" Hermione said in a meek voice. "I wanted to...to get this book out of the library. Just for background reading. But the thing is, it's in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it.
She held out the "permission form, trying not to shake her hand.
"I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow-acting venoms."
"Ah, Gadding with Ghouls!" said Lockhart, taking the note from Hermione and smiling widely at her. "Possibly my very favorite book. You enjoyed it?"
"Oh, yes!" said Hermione, a little too eagerly. "So clever, the way you trapped that last one with the tea-strainer!"
"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best student of the year a little extra help," said Lockhart, smiling like a prat as he pulled out an enormous peacock quill.
"Yes, nice, isn't it?" he said, misreading the revolted look on my face. "I usually save it for book-signings."
I knew that cocky s.o.b. had an actual feather. Must have plucked it right off his ass.
He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione.
"So, Harry," said Lockhart, while Hermione folded the note and slipped it into her bag. "Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you're a useful player. I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players."
Yeah right. He wouldn't chip a nail on trying to catch a snitch. I doubt if he rode a broom past first year.
We left in a rush before he could start telling more stories.
"I don't believe it." Harry said as we examined the signature on the note. "He didn't even look at the book we wanted."
"That's because he's a brainless git." I said, laughing. "But who cares, we've got what we needed-"
"He is not a brainless git." said Hermione, as if she was offended.
"Just because he said you were the best student of the year, doesn't mean he has a brain. Everyone knows you're brilliant. Doesn't take a genius to see that."
Hermione looked as if she was flattered and annoyed at the same time.
We went into the library, where we went up to the librarian, Madam Pince's desk. She reminded me of a perched vulture.
"Moste Potente Potions?" she repeated suspiciously, trying to take the note from Hermione. However Hermione held tightly to it.
"I was wondering if I could keep it," she said slowly.
Was she serious?
"Oh, come on!" I said, snatching it out of her hand and giving it to Pince. "We'll get you another autograph. Lockhart'll sign anything if it stands still long enough."
Hermione scowled at me. I gave her a shrug, letting her know I really didn't care.
Madam Pince held the note up to the light to see if it was forged, but it passed the test. She walked off and then a couple minutes later, returned with the old and moldy looking book. She handed it to Hermione, who stuck it in her messenger bag.
Five minutes later, Hermione had reluctantly made us to into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She used the excuse of how no one would want to come in there, so we would have total privacy.
Hermione opened Moste Potente Potions carefully, and we bent over the damp-spotted pages. We quickly realized why it belonged in the Restricted Section. Some of the potions had effects almost too gruesome to think about, and there were some very unpleasant illustrations, which included a man who seemed to have been turned inside out and a witch sprouting several extra pairs of arms out of her head.
"Here it is!" said Hermione excitedly as she found the page headed The Polyjuice Potion. It was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people. The people looked like they were in pain.
"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen," said Hermione as we looked over the recipe. "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass... Well, they're easy enough, they're in the student store-cupboard, we can help ourselves... Oooh, look, powdered horn of a bicorn, don't know where we're going to get that... Shredded skin of a boomslang , that'll be tricky, too and of course a bit of whoever we want to change into."
"Excuse me?" I said, raising my hand as if we were in class. "What do you mean, a bit of whoever we're changing into? I'm drinking nothing with Crabbe's toenails in it!"
Hermione continued as though she hadn't heard me.
"We don't have to worry about that yet, though, because we add those bits last..."
I turned speechless to Harry, who seemed to have something else on his mind.
"Do you realize how much we're going to have to steal, Hermione?" he exclaimed. "Shredded skin of a boomslang, that's definitely not in the students cupboard. What're we going to do, break into Snape's private stores? I don't know if this is a good idea."
Hermione shut the book swiftly. We could tell she was getting frustrated.
"Well, if you two are going to chicken out, fine." she said. "I don't want to break rules, you know. I think threatening Muggleborns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion. But if you don't want to find out if it's Malfoy, I'll go straight to Madam Pince now and hand the book back in.
Harry and I looked at each other, and then back at Hermione. I couldn't help but feel impressed.
"I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be persuading us to break rules." I said to her, smirking as I crossed my arms. "All right, we'll do it. But not toenails, okay?"
Hermione grinned. She looked like she even felt proud of the idea of breaking a rule or two.
"How long will it take to make, anyway?" said Harry.
"Well, since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days... I'd say it'd be ready in about a month, if we can get all the ingredients."
"A month? Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggleborns in the school by then!" I said, throwing up my hands.
Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously again, causing me to change my tune.
"But it's the best plan we've got, so full steam ahead, I say." I said, giving her a nervous grin.
Hermione went to the door to check if the coast was clear.
"What say you just knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow?" I whispered to Harry.
He laughed. "That would be a sight, to fall on his uppity ass by my hands."
