Disclaimer: see part 1.
Beautiful Poison
By Random1377
Chapter 3 – What Can be Learned from a Dead God
"Turn to page five hundred and sixty four."
Harry did as he was told, feigning a gasp to echo his classmates as they collectively read, 'Elixir of Osiris' at the head of the page.
"Professor," Hermione said, raising her hand to get his attention, "will this be our final?"
Hermione, of course, knew that it was – Harry had told her when he had outlined his bargain with Pansy – but she told him before class that they needed to seem surprised, or Snape would know that they had been informed beforehand… and Hermione was sure that he would know exactly who had spilled the beans. Not that she cared terribly much what happened to Pansy, of course, but she knew that if the Slytherin girl got in trouble, it would trickle down to Harry, and no matter what she thought of their little arrangement, she had made up her mind to support Harry in any way she could.
That's what friends did, after all.
"It will," Snape said coolly. "I would ask you to tell me the specifics of this particular poison Miss Granger… but I don't really want to hear your bragging today, so… Potter – please enlighten us as to the nature of the Elixir of Osiris. Come, come," he said impatiently as Harry scanned the page, "you did have the foresight to read ahead this time, didn't you, Potter?"
Gritting his teeth, Harry cast a discrete, sidelong glance at Pansy, reassured as the girl continued staring straight ahead, but nodded, once, barely inclining her chin as her lips compressed into a thin line – an expression anyone with half a mind could read as saying, 'Hurry up, idiot!'
Harry cleared his throat.
"The Elixir of Osiris is the third most potent poison in recorded history, second only to Life's Bane and Usagi's Tears," he said clearly. "There is only one known antidote – ground unicorn horn steeped in harpy's blood – but since the elixir is fatal within fifteen seconds of application, internal or external, and harpy's blood coagulates within eight seconds of exposure to air, there are less than a handful of known survivors to this kind of poison… sir."
During Harry's dissertation, Snape's expression had grown increasingly sour. "Thank you for that… adequate description, Mister Potter," he said coldly, clearly disappointed that he did not have an excuse to deduct house points from Gryffindor. "And who can tell me the error in Mister Potter's soliloquy? Yes, Parkinson?"
"Harpy's blood is viable for twenty seconds," Pansy's voice – dripping with derision – announced, making Harry's cheeks burn. "The reason most victims of Elixir of Osiris die is that they don't have the ingredients on hand. Now I don't know about Gryffindor's seeker," she added dryly, "but when I'm out shopping, I don't carry vials of harpy's blood with me."
Harry was absolutely crimson as a smattering of giggles rose up from the Slytherins scattered around the classroom, though some of the edge was taken off his embarrassment when Ron muttered, "You wouldn't need to carry it in a vial… it's in your veins."
"An excellent point, Miss Parkinson," Snape said approvingly, thankfully missing Ron's dry comment, "and can you tell me why we are starting this project so early in the term?"
"Yes sir," Pansy said briskly, "a cauldron of Elixir of Osiris must be simmered for three months before adding the final ingredient, yielding less than an ounce of usable poison for several gallons of ingredients. Furthermore, an ounce of the elixir is only enough for one victim, and precise measurement is key, rendering it an impractical assassination tool due to the length of time and effort required for a single…" she trailed off, clearing her throat as she realized that every eye in the room was on her.
"Five points to Slytherin," Snape announced, casting a thin, satisfied smile at Harry and Hermione. "Now you see, Miss Granger – some students know when they've said enough."
Hermione nodded and turned her attention back to her book, though from where Harry was sitting, he could easily see that the muscles in her jaw were clenched tight enough to crack a tooth.
Sighing, the Boy who Lived pulled out a quill and a blank piece of parchment, preparing to take notes as Snape moved back to the front of the class and pulled out a long list of ingredients.
It's going to be a long term…
( 0 0 0 )
"Oi, what a pain!" Ron complained as they made their way out of the dungeon.
"He's just doing his job," Hermione pointed out, sounding unconvinced and unconvincing; "at least he answered a few questions this time."
Ron glowered. "I meant Parkinson!" he snapped. "What a know-it-all – she's even worse than-"
"Don't you dare," Hermione grumbled warningly.
"Sorry…"
Eager to change the subject, Ron turned to Harry.
"So who are you going to ask?"
"Hmm?" Harry hummed, looking up from where he had been staring down at his feet. "What's that?"
Ron rolled his eyes. "The Heartblood," he clarified, "who are you going to ask?"
"Dunno," Harry said evasively, glancing at Pansy as she brushed past him, "I'll find someone, I guess…"
"Osiris," Ron mused, seeing that this topic was not going anywhere, "wonder what he did…"
Hermione snorted. "Honestly," she said huffily, "do you read anything? Osiris was an Egyptian god – god of the underworld, specifically. He ruled over the dead after he was killed by his brother Set, and-"
"You're doing it again."
Harry chuckled as Hermione glowered at Ron… but his mirth faded as he spotted Cho Chang turning a corner up ahead. "Hermione," he said lightly, averting his eyes as the Ravenclaw seeker glanced his way, "can I ask you something?"
"Sure Harry," Hermione replied curiously, "what is it?"
Slowing his pace a bit, Harry hesitantly asked, "Do… have you heard anything about… people in other houses not liking me?"
Ron, it seemed, suddenly had somewhere else to be, as he muttered something about transfiguration notes and hurried off down the hallway. "Umm, well," Hermione said nervously, shooting a dark look at Ron's back for running off and avoiding the difficult topic, "I wouldn't say I've heard that anyone actually hating you or anything, I, ummm…"
Harry's shoulders slumped. Hermione was never at a loss for words – unless it was something she did not want to say. "Tell me," he said softly, "please. Is it true?"
Sighing, Hermione whispered, "Yes, Harry, it's true – but that's just life. You can't have everyone like you…"
Harry nodded. "I know that," he said quietly, "but I just… I always kind of thought Slytherin was where all my enemies were, you know? I mean, I know Cho probably doesn't like me all that much – and some of… of Cedric's friends in Hufflepuff, but I thought… what, what is it?"
Hermione was shuffling her feet. "Harry," she said evenly, "now, you asked me to tell you this, so don't be shocked… but not everyone that dislikes you is in another house…"
Leaning against the wall, Harry rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "Who?" he wanted to know, "and why didn't you tell me? I thought everyone in Gryffindor was my friend – that's what they say when you're sorted… that your house is your family."
"Being family doesn't automatically mean you get along," Hermione pointed out softly, "and I didn't tell you because I… I kind of thought you had enough on your mind, Harry."
Isn't that what Dumbledore said last term? Harry mused. Yeah, when he was telling me why he didn't make me a prefect. I guess I should be grateful that people want to protect me – I just wish they'd ASK sometimes. I'd rather know who my enemies are than go along thinking everyone's my friend.
As if reading his mind, Hermione said, "There isn't a single member of Gryffindor that wouldn't stand up for you or help you with a problem, Harry. That's what it means to be in a house – we may not get along all the time, but when things get serious, your housemates will be there… believe in that, Harry."
Reluctantly, Harry smiled. "Thanks, Hermione," he said, "I'll try."
Shrugging awkwardly, Hermione averted her eyes. "You should get going, shouldn't you?" she asked levelly, "It's Thursday."
"Oh," Harry blurted, "thanks for reminding me! I'll see you in the great hall for dinner."
Hermione waved as the boy rushed off down the hall, narrowing her eyes as Pansy, who had been walking with a group of Slytherins, abruptly broke away from the crowd and casually strolled in the direction Harry had gone. "Watch your step, Parkinson," Hermione whispered to herself, shivering at the cool smile on Pansy's face, "I won't forgive you if you hurt my friend…"
( 0 0 0 )
Harry rested his hands on his knees, panting heavily as Pansy smirked down at him. "Winded so soon?" the Slytherin asked, cocking an eyebrow, "We've only just started."
Scowling, Harry wiped sweat off of his brow, noting – not for the first time – just how hot the Room of Requirement got in the late afternoon.
"We've been here two hours," he grumbled, "I wouldn't call that just starting. And I've been doing all the work!"
"Don't exaggerate," Pansy said coolly, "we talked potions for a while first."
"Five minutes!" Harry said angrily, "Then it was, 'show me this, show me that, how do I block this spell'!"
With a shrug, Pansy said, "You didn't have questions… I wasn't going to just prattle on and on about potion ingredients for an hour and a half."
"No," Harry muttered dryly, "but you have no problem making me defend myself for that long!"
Pansy examined her fingernails intently. "Could be worse," she said evenly, "I could just lie to you about how to make the elixir and watch you make a fool of yourself."
Showing all of his teeth, Harry said, "And how do I know that's not your plan anyway?"
This, it seemed, was the wrong thing to say. "Because I gave my word," Pansy said icily. "How do I know that you're not teaching me the wrong movements? I can't make a patronus yet, so maybe you're the one tricking me!"
"You can't make one because you're not focusing on positive things," Harry growled through his teeth, "I told you, Dementors feed on fear and bad thoughts, so you have to make yourself think of something happy for the patronus to appear!"
They glared at each other for several moments.
I shouldn't have agreed to this, Harry thought angrily, she can't BE taught, that's why she's doing so badly! And she hasn't really helped me all that much so far. Sure, she's taught me a couple shortcuts, but nothing major. I should just walk away.
Taking a deep breath, Pansy lowered her wand. "Did you know," she said calmly, "that Osiris was killed by his brother?"
"Yeah," Harry muttered, "I heard."
Pansy nodded as if this was no surprise. "Of course you would have," she murmured, "you hang out with Granger. Did you ever wonder why the elixir is named after him?"
At this, Harry hesitated. "Because he's the god of the underworld," he said quietly, suddenly wishing that Ron had not cut Hermione off so he could hear the rest of the story.
"That's what most people think," Pansy replied, "but the real reason was that the man who first concocted it… used it to kill his brother. Can you imagine what it must have been like to look at the face of your brother and know, in those last seconds, that this person you've trusted your entire life is your killer?"
"No," Harry said honesty, "I can't."
"I can."
"Er, that's-"
Abruptly, Pansy stepped closer to Harry, staring intently into his eyes as she whispered, "Trust is fragile… but if you give me yours, I swear I will never betray it. I need this grade, Potter, and I know you need to have your potions grade. I'm not your brother, I'm not your friend, and I'm not even in your house… but you must understand that it is imperative that I get a passing grade this term, so I will do everything in my power to help you get yours – on my honor." Wetting her lips hesitantly, she concluded, "If you trust nothing else, trust that you will be killing me by not helping me pass this class."
Harry coughed uncomfortably, shaken by the determination in the Slytherin girl's eyes. "I said I would do my best," he said softly, "and I am… but… but I have to believe that you are too…"
Pansy nodded gravely. "Alright," she said quietly, "next Tuesday, we'll talk potions for the whole time… fair?"
"Fair," Harry said, wondering if Hermione wasn't right about this all being an elaborate setup.
Trust, he thought grimly, trust a Slytherin… how can I?
Staring into Pansy's eyes, he searched for a sign – any sign that she was being honest with him. Killing her by not helping her pass? What did that mean? She talked in riddles.
Ultimately, though, it was Hermione's voice that echoed in Harry's mind.
"You did make a deal, Harry."
Nodding to himself, Harry whispered, "Try the patronus again…"
As Pansy lifted her wand and tried to concentrate, Harry took a deep breath, and decided that he would do his best to give her his trust – if for no other reason than to prove that he belonged in Gryffindor.
Continued…
Author's Notes: It's funny, but I've got all this material for later chapters all laid out nice and neat… I just have all this development to get there, so it's collecting virtual dust while I struggle to get from point A to point B in the story while still having it all cohesive.
Six String Samurai gave this chapter the once-over and declared it to be 'decent.' Man, my ego can't take much more of this…
Update note – it seems that in my haste to write, I misspelled Hermione's name… and since I haven't opened one of the books for a year or so, and no one pointed it out, I've been misspelling it all along. Imagine my embarrassment. I've corrected it on this chapter – 24 instances, thank you very much – since this is the only one I have on this computer, and I'll be going back to correct 1 and 2 as soon as I get the time. Thanks going out to aondehafka for bringing this oversight to my attention.
Second update: corrected the volume of poison needed to kill someone for believability.
Feedback is always welcome on any site with reviewing capabilities or by e-mailing me directly at random1377(at-sign)yahoo(dot)com.