Beth woke up with sunlight in her eyes. She blinked and looked at the clock: it was eight in the morning. With a start she remembered the potion that still simmered in the Vase Room, and how much work there was left to do. Struggling to keep her balance, she threw on her clothes and stumbled to the Great Hall, feeling like she'd had forty minutes of sleep instead of four hours.
"Good morning!" Melissa looked cheerier than she had in weeks. Beth glared at her through her limp bangs.
It wasn't enough. "Guess what?"
Cursing people who wanted to converse before noon, Beth grunted, "Huh?"
"Galen came over and talked to me this morning. He said everyone is just about convinced that Harry Potter is the Heir of Slytherin."
Beth grunted again, not without interest, and poured herself some cold cereal.
"Since that Hufflepuff pissed him off at the dueling club or whatever. So he doesn't think it was a Slytherin any more. So -- well, he said he missed me -- and --"
Beth nearly choked on her corn flakes. "And you took him back?" she spluttered, spraying Melissa with half-chewed cereal. "After what he did to you? Sorry," she added, as Melissa picked cornflake pieces off of her face.
"I believe him," Melissa said defensively. "And, you know, it was cute how he came scuttling back."
"But he's a bum! He was ready to drop you just for being a Slytherin!"
"He's seen the error of his ways," said Melissa stubbornly. She looked so happy and so starry-eyed that Beth held back any further comments, and said instead:
"Do you think it is Potter?"
Melissa shook her head. "Not a chance. One, he's not one of us, I mean the Sorting Hat didn't think he was good enough for Slytherin, did it? Second, if it was Potter, Draco Malfoy would have been hanging from that bracket, not Mrs. Norris."
Richard slid into a seat beside them. His eyed were deeply shadowed; he obviously hadn't gotten any sleep either. "How's it going?" he whispered, in a voice very faintly laced with panic.
Beth shook her head slowly.
Richard's eyes grew wilder for just a moment. Then he took a deep breath.
"I've got a backup plan," he whispered. "Vivian takes him in -- says she found him in the hall -- says she knows it's him, since he was trying to turn into an Animagus -- she says this must have been the first time he's managed it, and he didn't have enough time to register before he was Petrified ... How's that?"
There was a pause. "Very suspicious," said Melissa.
Richard looked deflated. "I thought so too." He turned to Beth. "You've got to get this working. And it's got to be done tonight."
"Tonight!" she almost moaned, fighting back despair. "Why can't it be tomorrow?"
"Because if it works, we have plenty more to set up," said Richard, sounding a little despairing himself. "We have to tell his parents that he's staying for break."
Beth put her head down on the table and covered it with her arms.
Immediately after breakfast, Beth forced herself to go down to the Vase Room, armed with a lot of paper, an enchanted abacus (by Prewlett-Hackard magicologies), and a jar of lacewings. There she mixed, stirred, and calculated feverishly by herself for the entire morning.
Richard came down for a little while, but he was no help at all -- he fussed around and kept looking over her shoulder as if hoping for a breakthrough.
"What's wrong with it now?" he asked for the fourteenth time, poking at the bubbling potion.
"It's not fully stewed," said Beth through gritted teeth. "Richard, go home."
It took several more minutes and some physical coercion before she actually got Richard out of the Vase Room, but he didn't look happy about it.
Vivian visited around eleven. She was far more useful than Richard; in fact, having had five years of Arithmancy, she was able to help Beth run her calculations, and even caught more than one error.
"Good heavens," she said, jabbing at the paper with a quill, "if you added that many lacewings you'd turn them into a kangaroo instead of a person."
Beth looked over at the calculations and rubbed her eyes sleepily. "Huh, you're right. Five points from Slytherin."
"If we get this wrong, Slytherin loses a lot more than five points," said Vivian testily.
From then they worked in silence.
By noon they had the calculations finished, checked, and double-checked. Beth and Vivian scrambled to lunch.
"Where've you been all day, Beth?" Aaron Pucey asked cheerfully, munching a corned-beef sandwich.
"Doing Alchemy," said Beth. It wasn't technically a lie. She grabbed a number of sandwiches, wrapped them in a napkin, and stuffed them into her pocket. Then she went back to the Vase Room.
"I'm starting to hate this place," she sighed to herself, settling into her familiar seat. In truth, it was kind of growing on her. It might be a pretty good place to study full time, she decided, if she didn't have to sneak in and out.
The calculations were finished; now, there was only basic Potions work to be done. She added lacewings every half hour, stirred unceasingly, and simultaneously managed to fight Richard away from the unfinished potion. Finally, at eight o'clock that night, Beth stepped away from the potion and announced that it had only three more hours to boil before it would be ready.
Richard had a minor conniption.
"Three hours! That's practically midnight."
"That's eleven," said Beth. She was tired and grouchy from spending all day over a steaming cauldron. "Eleven seventeen, to be exact."
"Why can't we run it now?"
Beth gritted her teeth. "If you want to drink it and blow yourself up, fine. I'm taking a nap." She stumbled over to the low divan and stretched out. "Wake me up in three hours." She yawned. "Any earlier, and I'll kill you." She closed her eyes.
Richard started shaking her shoulders. "Get up, Beth."
She glared at him through squinted eyes. "Go away."
"But it's time."
"Huh?"
"You've been asleep for three hours. It's eleven."
Beth sat up. "That's impossible."
"Nope."
She wiped her eyes and stretched. Richard stood hovering over the cauldron, staring into the green swirls that were slowly darkening. The dark circles around his eyes were even more pronounced.
"How much sleep have you gotten, Rich?" she asked cautiously, standing up.
"Got three hours last night," said Richard thickly. He looked up at her, and his eyes were a little feverish. "I told everyone to show up between eleven fifteen and midnight. They'll be around soon."
"Well, they have some time." Beth walked around a bit to wake herself up before taking a seat near the stewing cauldron. Richard came and sat beside her.
They waited.
"Can we run it yet?"
Beth looked at her watch: it was ten after eleven. "Seven minutes." They sat and stared at the cauldron bubble. It was true what they said about watched pots never boiling, Beth thought tiredly.
"How about now?"
"Six minutes." It was also true what they said about too many cooks.
They watched the potion stew. It was gradually changing color, from pea green to a thicker, soupier pine.
"How about --"
"I'll tell you when it's time, Richard."
Vivian slipped in at a quarter after eleven. "Going well?"
"Two minutes," said Beth.
To her relief, Vivian nodded understandingly. "After all the concessions we've made, taking it off a second too early would ruin everything."
Richard was practically vibrating in his chair. He jumped up and paced around a bit every few seconds, then sat down and jiggled his foot nervously.
It was eleven eighteen. Beth waited for three minutes after that, just to be sure, before saying, "I think it's done."
Richard leapt up and went to the cauldron. "Finally! Come on, let's try it out!"
Vivian and Beth joined him. "I'll stir it, you grab a cup," ordered Vivian. She peeled a hairball from Daedalus's comb and dropped it in the potion, which fizzled and turned the mousy-brown color of his hair. Beth went and retrieved a dusty glass goblet from one of the shelves along the walls.
The door slammed and they all turned to look. Mervin came in, looking harried. "Peeves was out," he said grudgingly. "How's it going down here?"
Beth and Vivian exchanged looks. "It's just fine. Come in, you're the test run."
"I'm what?"
"Drink this." Beth dipped out a cup of Polyjuice and thrust it into Mervin's hands.
He looked at it uncertainly. "Is this the --"
"Yes, yes, lacewings, boomslang skin, and the lot of it. Drink up!"
Mervin opened his mouth as if he was going to say something else, but Vivian was giving him a look that Snape would have quailed under. Instead, Mervin brought the cup to his lips and screwed his eyes closed before swallowing the awful-smelling brew.
Beth held her breath.
Mervin put down the cup and grabbed his middle with both arms. He hiccupped and a brownish bubble floated out of his mouth.
"Come on ..." Vivian muttered tersely.
Before their eyes, Mervin started to twist, as if something inside was fighting to get out ... he began to grow ... his hair shrank in on itself and darkened, and his face contorted before finally filling out into solid, handsome features.
"Oh," said Vivian, putting a hand to her mouth.
It was incredible. Daedalus Dellinger stood in the middle of the room, perfectly replicated in the person of Mervin. Other than the slightly bewildered look on his face, there wasn't a shred of difference between him and the real thing.
"How do I look?" asked Mervin/Daedalus nervously, staring around at the room.
"You look fine, but you sound ridiculous," Vivian said crisply. "Don't talk like that in class. In fact, better not talk to anyone unless I tell you to."
Uther came in, tossing around a Quaffle. He took one look at Mervin and stopped dead. The Quaffle floated to the floor.
"It's Mervin," said Vivian.
"Smashing!" cried Uther. "Let me have a go!"
In minutes there was a second Daedalus stomping around the Vase Room, this one in robes that were too long. "Ruddy incredible," Uther kept exclaiming. "I'm Dell!"
"You," said Vivian, "are a pathetic facsimile."
Uther looked hurt.
Eventually the rest of the S.S.A. made it into the Vase Room. Herne and Bruce insisted on trying the potion, bringing their Daedalus total to four; Richard was content to sit and watch them walk around like a confused set of quadruplets.
"Where's Riggs?" asked Beth, watching one of the Dells tread on the foot of another one.
"Out patrolling," said Richard. He looked exhausted but greatly relieved. "The prefects and teachers are going to start roaming the halls at night, to make sure no one's out or to catch the Heir. Riggs put in to patrol this hall. He'll let us through for meetings."
Melissa nodded. "After this, I wouldn't be surprised if they started guiding us through the halls. That's four victims that they know about."
Beth let out a tired giggle suddenly.
"What?"
"That's odd," she said, as one of the Dells began to morph back into Mervin. "I just remembered that someone other than Daedalus was attacked."
Vivian, meanwhile, meticulously drafted an owl to Mr. and Mrs. Dellinger in Daedalus's handwriting, explaining that he had decided to stay over Christmas break and claiming that the teachers had been notified. "Of course they haven't," Vivian snapped, when Herne asked if that was true. "The teachers will think he'll be getting on the Express. Good thing they never check very closely." To complete the illusion, she had Uther hunt down the gifts he had gotten for his parents, and sent them along with the letter.
Richard was a nervous wreck. "D'you think it'll reach them in time?" he asked repeatedly, fidgeting worriedly, until Vivian swore that if he didn't knock it off she'd find the Heir and ask him to Petrify a certain S.S.A President.