Teenage Detective
Chapter 6: Potion Class
The next few days proved to be bleak for Harry. The murderer had gone on an absent act after Walden's body was discovered and it frustrated him. To everyone else's eye he was at a dead end. All of this nuisance and adding more problems for him was Hermione. The Head Girl kept following him, tailing and sneaking with him wherever he went. He did not have the chance to talk to his trusted people, although he visited Hagrid a lot because the half-giant was in a state of depression and couldn't teach. Harry avoided Hermione every time he stumbled on her. She only wanted to talk. Both of them knew very well that he already said he did not want anything to do with her.
It was on the day of November twentieth that his luck rose again when Advance Potions Class was in order. Harry was walking alone in the dark corridors of the dungeon, when someone came running frantically behind him. He spun around, wondering what the blazes going on. He saw a boy, shorter than him about to knock into him. Harry quickly grabbed him before he crashed into him.
"Get off me," cried the boy, after looking horridly at Harry.
"Calm down, what's wrong? Why are you running?" he asked quickly as he struggled to keep the smaller boy in his grasp.
"I said get off me!" the boy stomped down Harry's foot. Harry yelped in pain and let go of the boy as he bent down to his hurt foot. The boy ran away from him but Harry got a good look at him.
The boy was a Gryffindor third year, greasy black hair, long nose, blue eyes, slightly freckled face and oddly no eyebrows. Harry saw the boy turn into the shadows of a corridor where not even Snape had been. Only the sound of frantic running was heard as the boy disappeared into the dark. Harry had the intention to help the boy from whatever the problem was, but he was too late. Left with no option he proceeded to Potions.
When he entered the classroom he was already late. At a glance he noticed the class was full and Snape was sitting behind his desk. The face on the Potion Master was full of displeasure and concentration. An unknown boy had taken Harry's usual seat and the only seats left were beside Hermione, who was waving at him with her bright cheery face, and next to Draco. Harry sighed in disappointment.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, please sit beside Mr. Malfoy," said Snape, who did not look at him but continued to work. Harry groaned silently and made his way to Draco's side. He took a chance and looked to Hermione and noticed she wore a sad unsatisfied face. He sighed for the third time. Sooner or later, he had to face the music and tell the whole truth.
"Hullo," Harry said taking a seat next to his long time and very annoying rival.
"Hey," Draco muttered but did not look at him.
Harry ignored him and turned to Snape. Although the change in Draco's life was ecstatic, Harry still did not like the blonde Slytherin for some old obvious reason.
Snape walked to the front of his desk, hands behind him, and gazed leeringly at his students. Hermione noticed the familiar arrogance that he always showed to all non-Slytherins.
"Today we won't be brewing any potions," he announced which was followed by cheers from both the Slytherins and Gryffindors. They were quickly silence by Snape's ghostly glare. Hermione groaned when hearing the news but Harry remained unfazed.
"Today I will lecture and you will take notes," Snape spat out. "If you miss any it is your own fault."
Snape held up a lime green fiery shaped leaf which almost resembled a maple leaf. "Now, can anyone tell me what this is?"
Nobody raised a hand.
"No one? Ms. Granger?"
Hermione remained silent.
"Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco tensed. Like everyone else he too did not know the answer.
Harry eyed the leaf in Snape's hand, but a small smile crept unnoticed to the corner of his mouth. He found it amusing that Draco didn't know.
"This leaf is called the Longevity Leaf," Snape explained in his usual loud monotone voice. "It is so dangerous that it is not mentioned in any of your books. Not even the Dark Arts books. A quarter of this leaf can make your potions batches last up to half a month longer."
Harry, listening intensely, recognised Snape was angry by the way that he spoke.
Draco raised his hand. "If the leaf effect is so good why is it dangerous?"
Harry snorted. Draco glared at him before he met with Snape's raging and flushed face. The blonde haired boy stiffened in his seat.
"That's because this seemingly innocent looking leaf can cause your body's nerve system slow, your temper to flare, giving you a rotten attitude, and other side effects that could harm a user's mental stability," Snape explained through his clenched teeth, his eyes were still on the livid boy. He clenched his fist and destroyed the leaf. He turned away and walked to his desk. Draco sat still. He could not believe his head of house had made him look silly.
If anyone in the class noticed very well that this was no ordinary lesson Hermione was one of them. She wrote down the information in case it came out in the N.E.W.Ts. She took a glance at Harry and was shocked to see him laid back and not writing anything. Usually she would scold him but times change. It made her wish everything could go back to the way it was. She watched Snape walk back to the desk and pick up another Longevity Leaf. His behaviour was bothering Hermione very much. She remembered him acting this way before.
Snape's anger was caused by stealing. Harry knew it. Snape had the right to be angry when someone stole something from his private cabinet.
"The ministry has banned the use of this deadly plant," Snape faced the students once again. "I got permission to breed these special plants with the help of Prof. Sprout. So if any of your families or friends are found handling this plant, please inform me immediately. Now back to the leaf, to breed this plant, a special kind of soil is needed. The soil is called Nitros Dirt." Hermione's ears perked up at the name but Harry was ahead of her. He had a new clue and made a revelation.
Harry raised his hand, which caught attention of everyone in the room. "Yes, Mr. Potter," Snape said.
"This plant, can it be use in any potions - let's say Polyjuice?" Harry asked simply.
Snape smirked, "Yes."
"Thank you, sir," he said and turned quiet back. Some of the people were shocked at the interaction between the two.
"Whoa, Hermione, how did Harry get on Snape's good side? For all I know those two hate each other and now they act like buddies. What's the deal?" Parvati said to Hermione but she was not listening. The Head Girl's mind was on Harry's question. "Hermione! Hermione!" Parvati leaned in towards Hermione from behind, and shaking the bushy haired girl by the shoulder.
"Ms. Patil! Ten points from Gryffindor," snarled Snape.
Murmurs of protest were heard but they were silenced by Snape's glare.
Parvati sat back and glared at the back of Hermione's head but she was still in deep thought.
Ten minutes later class was over and Hermione had a good chance of cornering Harry, but Snape called the boy to stay after class to talk so she just decided to wait outside the class for Harry.
Nothing else Hermione had done to discover what Harry was up to worked so far so she opted to try the direct approach this time. It would take patience, but she would try.
Harry talked with Snape about possible suspects. The Potion Master warned him to be careful from now on. The ruthless murderer might just attack him. Harry gave his word and left the classroom but not before asking a favour from Snape.
Harry left the Potion classroom with a smile but it quickly faltered when he met Hermione just outside the room.
"Hi Harry, mind us walking back together?" she asked delightedly, or pretending to be. Harry groaned as he brushed past her.
Hermione quickly reacted and followed Harry, who was walking briskly. "Harry we need to talk!"
Harry kept walking and did not look at her.
"What's there to talk about? Our lives are done, we defeated Voldemort, you moved on, I moved on – end of story."
The bushy haired girl wanted to cry but held back the tears. She did not want to emotionally drop down in front of him again. She wanted him to explain everything.
"Do you know who killed Ron? I believe Sloper didn't do it, according to your logical explanation. I'm glad you're willing to help h-"
Harry turned around and cut her off. "I wasn't willing," he said, his tone acidic. "I was just defending someone who had been wrongfully accused and was being bullied by his fellow housemates because some precious git who called himself a superstar got himself killed. I don't care if he's alive or dead."
"Don't you say that about Ron," she said quickly, tears threatening to roll down her cheeks.
Harry looked down at the girl, who was a good three inches shorter. He just stared severely at her.
"Say what?"
"Say that you don't care about Ron!" she stared darkly at him as if inviting a challenge. "I know you care about Ron. He's kind to others and he doesn't think of himself," she said loudly, just enough to echo through the lonely dark corridors. "He's not a git. And what made you think that Ron is such a person?"
Harry gazed incisively at her, breathing heavily, and turned around looking around the corridor. He found shadows among the torches that lit the darkness and dragged the Head Girl in there so they would not be seen.
Hermione knew she was about to get answers, but also knew that she wouldn't like it either.
Harry placed her against the wall with care, which made her feel tingly all of a sudden. Then it all disappeared when Harry looked angrily into her eyes.
"Are you sure you want to know why?"
She nodded dumbly and gulped the contents in her mouth, feeling scared.
"What made me think was because Ron is dirty cheating scumbag of a liar."
Hermione felt enraged. "That's not true!" she retorted briskly.
"But it is!" he replied back.
"I'm his girlfriend and he didn't do such thing in front of me," she reasoned, but there was a little voice in the back of her mind telling her to listen to Harry.
"You're so gullible, Hermione, he's been lying to you, his family, the teachers and everyone."
She looked disbelieving at him. She shook her head. Ron was not the man that Harry spoke of. But what if it was true?
"You know that Firebolt he owned?" Harry's tone returned to normal.
She remembered Ron delivering her the news about him getting a Firebolt last year. He was going to show it to everyone when Gryffindor has a match with the Ravenclaws next week. She pondered why her late boyfriend would fib about his precious broom.
"He told everyone in Hogwarts that his parents were going to buy him the broom that I had and that he'd show it to everyone. But he failed to tell everyone that his parents were going to buy it for him only if his sixth year test results were good."
The revelation shocked her and her mouth opened slightly. If Ron only had the Firebolt after sixth year, then whose broom had he used? Only one other person had a Firebolt and that surprised her and made her more curious than mad and gloomy.
"He used your broom all those times," she said hesitantly and that made Harry's face turned glum. She regretted asking it but spoke soon after. "That's why he used his old broom for practice to make it look like he had a Firebolt and too precious to use it." He nodded dumbly to her words. "But why didn't you stop him if you knew?"
Harry looked at her and pushed his back against the wall beside her.
"The first match against the Ravenclaws, was the perfect time for him to steal it when I was in my depression, so I wasn't even aware of it."
Hermione felt guilty when he mentioned the 'depression'. She scolded herself mentally for not being there with Harry rather than her fibbing boyfriend.
"When I was alright and mentally healthy, I noticed his broom looked quite familiar when he played against Slytherins. I knew something wasn't right about the Firebolt he owned so I owled Mrs. Weasley. I was mad when she owled me back saying her son didn't own a Firebolt at all." His words started to get harsher and angrier. Harry ran his hands through his hair, evidently he did not want to remember his former bestfriend.
Hermione felt like the biggest fool in the world, but when she looked at Harry, she knew he was feeling even more foolish. She knew this because she partly knew what happened next. "Ron used your broom again against the Hufflepuffs. What happened?" she asked timidly. Then for the first time she noticed a missing piece of puzzle on his face.
"I confronted Ron a week before that last game. The sight of me shocked him; he was scared and knew what I wanted all right. He instantly begged for it."
Hermione opened her mouth in shocked. "He begged for it!" her voice got louder. Then she lowered her voice but maintain the feeling. "Why could he be possibly begging for your broom?"
Harry made a face of sad regret, looking at the floor like it was fascinating. "He said that it would be shameful if Gryffindor lost the match and that my broom was the key to it. He didn't want to be ashamed in front of his house, McGonagall, friends and family. I wasn't buying it at first but then he said something that made me forgive him." Harry then gazed at her longingly. Hermione looked up at him, her eyes full of anticipation and caring.
"He didn't want you to be unhappy."
Her mind screamed and cursed Ron with all the bad words she could think off, but she couldn't let it out. Hermione was not shocked but went madly angry at Harry's statement.
Harry continued. "But it's what happened after the game that made my blood boil." Harry's faced turned angry once again and this time his fist clenched.
"He did his stupid victory celebration around the field and when I approached him in the Hufflepuff stand he still wanted to hold my broom and insanely threw a snitch at my friend. And the nerve of him saying that Hufflepuff started the fight. Making them look like sore losers, making himself a name as a promising young 'bloody' Quidditch player when all of him is just a snippy cockroach. But most of all, the most unforgiving act was, he bloody hurt my friend. Susan didn't deserve his cowardly act."
Hermione gazed at him after he stopped speaking. His anger at Ron has not subsided yet. She wanted to feel the same as he, but could not find it within herself. She was in utter confusion. Her time grieving for Ron, was it a waste?
Furthermore Harry mentioned Susan, as in Susan Bones, the first victim. It was Susan, not Ron as she thought that led Harry to find the murderer. She wanted to hold him, hug him even. She was the reason he lent Ron his own broom, the one his late godfather gave him as a present, to her dead fame howling fibbing waste-of-a-time boyfriend. She was about to do what she wished for, but was interrupted by a boy who came running to them.
It was Dennis and seemed like he had news.
"Harry! There's been murder near the giant clock," Dennis informed him.
Harry pushed his thoughts away at the mentioning of the word 'murder'. Instantly he made his way to the fifth floor, followed closely by Hermione and Dennis, who noticed the Head Girl's presence.
"Hurry before Aurors come," Harry barked to them.
They reached their destination by means of secret passages. Upon arriving, they met a gruesome sight. A boy hanging from the ceiling with a rope tied tightly around his neck. It was the same murderer. Harry knew it from the signature: face was bloody and messed up to hide the identity of the victim.
Hermione gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth. A crowd of about fifteen people gathered under the hanging dead victim. Some were so sick by it that they vomited near the wall. The boy wore Gryffindor robes. It was not suicide as the height of the ceiling was twenty feet. The rope was tied properly from his neck to one of giant clock's cogwheel. Harry thought it was quite troublesome to hang high above him. There was talk amongst the crowd, but two boys near Harry sparked his interest.
"Isn't that Jamie Wescott?" a fat boy said, gloomily.
"You mean the browless boy?" said a skinny boy nonplussed.
It came to him that the victim was the boy that had run into him before Potions Class. He might have stopped this from happening, but the boy was already panicked so much.
"Can't say it though. He used to have a red hair once until some Ravenclaws boys thought he was a Weasley," said the skinny boy again.
Harry immediately went to the two boys. "What did you just say?" Harry asked, grabbing the skinny boy by his shoulder.
"W-what?" the boy stuttered.
"Just now you said the boy used to have a red hair," he said interrogatively.
The boy nodded with a faint 'yes' from his mouth. Harry released the boy with a thank you and went into thinking mode. Dennis recognised by Harry's thinking posture. One arm folded to his front while the other hand had its fingers put on his lower lip.
Hermione, who was tirelessly controlling the crowd and the sick people, was gazing at Harry in astonishment. She used to do the thinking but now it was him who did it. She could if she listened in to the two boys' conversation just now. She turned her view to the professors rushing to them along with the Aurors.
Harry had put two and two together, and now needed something to prove his doubts. He gazed around the area and noticed nothing peculiar except the marble statue of a lion. He gazed at the victim being lowered onto the ground while the crowd around them was backing away. Then Harry discerned something, but he needed to go to the library to check something one last time.
"Come along, Dennis, we need to go to the library," he pulled Dennis, trying to free the little man from the impossible crowd.
"Thank you," Dennis said, but as he started to walk, he fell to the ground. Apparently he was being pushed over by a grunting Seamus, who was sweating profusely.
"Move over, squirt," the Irish lad grunted, though not in his familiar Irish accent and his voice was different.
Harry helped the young Creevey to his feet after a quick remark at Seamus.
A/N; thank you for the reviews, though not many is good to see some people out there that like the mystery genre instead of sappy romance stories here at FF and normal saving the world stories. Thank you and thank you. The next update might come in late because i had alot, i mean alot of work to do and i'm currently missing someone and thus become a lovesick fool myself. again, thank you.