Written for Quidditch League, Round 7
Team: Wigtown Wanderers
Position: Chaser 2
Prompt: write about a potion gone wrong - must be an accident
Additional prompts: (setting) Hospital Wing, (dialogue) "You're doing it all wrong!", (object) pestle
Word count: 1802
yeah, i paid the price
"Today, you will attempt to brew a Cure for Boils," Professor Snape announced at the start of class. He looked down his nose at his students, and several of them visibly shrank away in fear. "I don't expect greatness from any of you, but I am always willing to be surprised."
Colin gulped. Clearly, the Potions professor's fearsome reputation had not been exaggerated by the older students.
"Hey." Colin turned to find Ginny Weasley setting up her cauldron on the desk next to his. "Colin, right? I hear you're something of a Harry Potter fan."
Colin eyed her curiously. He had heard rumors about her, too—some said that she was a troublemaker like the twins, while others said that she was studious like her brother Percy. Whatever the case, everyone could at least agree that she came from a large Pureblood family. That alone was enough to make Colin wary of her—he didn't know much about the magical world yet, but he did know that most Purebloods looked down on Muggleborns like him.
"Yeah, I suppose I am," he said carefully. He busied himself with setting up his own cauldron before looking back at her. "Why'd you want to know?"
"No reason," the redhead was quick to reply.
Colin didn't trust her casual tone. It was undermined by eyes that darted around and a smile that looked glued on. He decided to continue preparing his workstation while he waited for her to elaborate. First, he placed a mortar and pestle to the right of his cauldron, then he looked at the blackboard to ascertain the ingredients he would need—dried nettle, snake fangs, horned slugs, and porcupine quills.
He pulled the first two ingredients out of his bag and placed them on the desk. The instructions told him to crush six snake fangs into a fine powder, so he counted out the fangs and proceeded to grind them into what he hoped was a fine powder with his pestle. It took him several minutes, but he was reasonably pleased with his results. Ginny didn't speak to him again until she had finished grinding up her own snake fangs.
"Harry is best friends with my brother Ron. I could tell you some stories about when he visited my house this summer, but you'd need to do something for me first," she said quietly.
Colin was eager to learn more about Harry, but he wondered what Ginny wanted in return for her information. He didn't have much in the way of wizarding money, nor did he have any valuable connections that he could leverage.
He pushed his curiosity aside for a moment so that he could measure the exact amount of crushed snake fangs the potion required. Once he had dumped the powder into his cauldron, he consulted the blackboard again. It seemed that he needed to heat his cauldron, and he managed to do so after several tries.
"Very good, Mr. Creevey." His professor's voice dripped with sarcasm from somewhere just behind him, causing him to jump and almost knock his mortar and pestle onto the floor. "You have managed to light your cauldron. I really must commend you for achieving the bare minimum."
Colin bit his lip as the Slytherins burst out laughing. The sound echoed around the dungeon, reverberating in his ears like a mocking refrain. He closed his eyes for a moment, during which time he heard the Potions master sweep away and berate another Gryffindor.
"All right, Ginny," he murmured. "What do you want me to do?"
...
As it transpired, Ginny wanted pictures of Harry. She had seen Colin with his camera and thought that he might be able to provide her with some new images of the Boy Who Lived.
Colin readily agreed to the trade, but they weren't able to firm up the details while their potions brewed because Professor Snape had tasked the class with reading their textbook during the downtime.
"You will be tested on your knowledge of Sleeping Draughts next class, so read carefully," he told them.
Colin tapped his foot as he read, too excited at the prospect of learning more about his idol to keep still. He could barely process anything on the page, though. He also kept sneaking glances at Ginny, trying to read her expression. Her furrowed brow suggested that she was concentrating on the book in her lap, but her frequent smiles made him think that she was just as distracted as he was. Their Potions textbook wasn't that interesting.
After the allowed brewing time had passed, Colin procured eight horned slugs from the student cupboard—four for himself and four for Ginny.
"So," he said, handing them to her, "how many pictures are you after?"
She turned away to add the slugs to her cauldron, but Colin caught a glimpse of reddened cheeks. "As many as you can get, I suppose."
"Well, I can get loads. I'm very persistent when I want to be." Colin couldn't help but brag a little. Even though no one at Hogwarts had taken an interest in his hobby so far, it wasn't like he could dazzle his fellow students with his knowledge of magic. Photography was the only thing he had going for him.
Ginny looked suitably impressed, though, and he was glad that his boast was believable. He might have to resort to sneaky tactics to snap the best photos of Harry, but he could manage that.
Turning his attention back to his potion, Colin added the slugs to his own cauldron.
"How many stories do you have about Harry?" he asked, taking a step back as the concoction hissed.
"I don't know exactly," Ginny said, her expression thoughtful. She stared off into the distance for a moment, as if trying to count in her head.
Colin could only imagine the information she must be privy to, and his mind began to wander. What did Harry like to eat for breakfast? How many times a day did he practice flying? Did he ever hum or sing to himself like Dennis often did? While he considered those questions—and the many others that popped into his head—he fished two porcupine quills out of their glass jar and added them to his cauldron as well.
No sooner had the quills left his hand, however, when Ginny let out a shriek.
"Colin, no! You're doing it all wrong—!"
Time seemed to move in slow motion. Colin's heart thumped rapidly in his chest but he was frozen, unable to move. Meanwhile, Ginny and the rest of the class backed away as Colin's cauldron melted before his eyes and a pungent smell wafted through the classroom. Some of the potion splashed onto his hands, causing him to cry out at the appearance of angry red boils.
Professor Snape was at his side in an instant, Vanishing the ruined cauldron and fixing him with a glare that made him want to burst into tears.
"Do make sure to read the instructions next time, Mr. Creevey," he snapped. "The cauldron must be removed from the fire before you add the quills."
Colin stared down at the ground, willing himself not to cry. The pain from the boils was excruciating, plus he had just made a complete fool of himself. Now everyone would probably think that his attendance at Hogwarts was a fluke.
"Yes, sir."
"You will receive a zero for today's marks, and I expect an extra three inches on your Cure for Boils essay explaining the importance of following directions." The professor's gaze flicked over to Ginny. "Miss Weasley, kindly accompany this dolt to the Hospital Wing."
"Come on, let's go," Ginny whispered, haphazardly shoving ingredients into her bag. When she was finished, she looked over at his desk and shook her head. "We can come back for everything else later, I guess. Those boils look painful."
"They are," Colin whimpered. He followed her out of the classroom, trying his best to ignore his classmates' giggles.
...
Colin and Ginny chatted about Harry all the way to the Hospital Wing. Colin was glad for the distraction—the boils seemed to be even bigger now, and they hurt more than ever.
Once they reached their destination, Madam Pomfrey took one look at Colin's hands and shook her head. "Let me guess, your Cure for Boils potion went wrong?" At the astonished look on Colin's face, she added, "Happens to at least one student every year. Sit here and I'll have you sorted in a jiffy."
"Please don't tell my parents about this," Colin begged. "They're Muggles, you know, and they'll be ever so worried—"
The matron gave him a sympathetic look even as she prodded his boil-covered hands with her wand. "I'm afraid your Head of House has already contacted them, Mr. Creevey. That's standard procedure when first-years such as yourself and Miss Weasley find yourselves in my care."
Colin winced and looked over at Ginny, who had buried her head in her boil-free hands. Luckily for her, she had managed to avoid the painful blisters.
He sighed. His parents weren't going to be happy. They were worried enough as it was about sending him away to a magical boarding school, and this had to go and happen in his very first week. Dennis would probably think it was cool, though. That was the only silver lining Colin could come up with.
Before long, Madam Pomfrey had vanished his boils with a properly-brewed Cure for Boils potion, and he breathed another sigh, this time out of relief. His hands no longer felt like they were on fire and he relished being able to move his fingers again.
Ginny's once-over took considerably less time than Colin's. Though she stated that she felt fine and hadn't been exposed to the ruined potion, Madam Pomfrey insisted on a quick scan nonetheless. Apparently her diagnostic spells revealed nothing out of the ordinary, however, because she waved the two Gryffindors on their way a few minutes later.
"I'm sorry, Colin," Ginny said as they made their way back to the dungeons to retrieve their belongings. "It's my fault that you were distracted in class today."
"No, I should have been paying more attention." Colin hopped over a missing stair, then held out a hand to help Ginny up. It was odd to think that before their disastrous Potions class, he might have avoided her entirely due to her blood status—he certainly hadn't foreseen helping her up the stairs, let alone bonding with her over Harry Potter. "I was just so excited to find someone with a...shared interest, you know?"
Ginny finally smiled again. "Want to sit together at lunch? Maybe we can talk about"—she lowered her voice slightly—"him then."
Colin gave an eager nod. He couldn't wait to hear all about Harry Potter's summer adventures.