Chapter 1
It was stifling hot in the Potions dungeons the first day of sixth year. All of the flames were burning cleanly at the stations and there was no window or outlet to be seen, except for the door (which remained closed). The students sat in their seats, most of them with their robes hanging on the backs of their chairs. They sat frying in the starch-stiff sweater- vest uniforms. Ties hung loosely around necks and sweat beaded on upper lips. The stone room reeked of body odor and sweat.
Nobody, given the conditions, cared who was a Slytherin or a Gryffindor. The double class suffered together, forgetting to snip at each other and worrying more about passing out.
"Welcome to your sixth-year Potions study," the old Professor Dollops coughed. He was a bent old man that seemed as though he severely needed a cane. Lily had no doubt it was some odd potion that was keeping all the loose pieces of his health and sanity together. "This is the year where your wildest Potions fascinations will be satisfied."
"Sorry, Dollops, old chap, but you're just not my type," Sirius Black called out from the back. Gryffindors laughed appreciatively, James Potter the loudest.
Dollops gave Sirius a jaded smile, which lit up his sagging cheeks and stretched his deeply etched wrinkles even farther.
"As insolent as ever," he said with a chuckle. "A point from Gryffindor. Anyway, this year we're going to be exploring the Dark Magic of Potion- brewing."
Dark whispers arose like a cloud of steam over the heat. The Slytherins looked on Dollops eagerly, the Gryffindors apprehensively.
"Nothing dangerous, of course," said Dollops to the anxious Slytherins, who sighed and rolled their eyes in disappointment. "Just so you know what to look out for. But, we may test some.er.heavily diluted variations of the concoctions on ourselves."
Both sides of them room flashed thumbs-up at each other approvingly. Lily couldn't help but be a little excited. Mostly all they'd done their entire student careers was create potions that made something swell up or discolored you to a mottled purple, and the like.
"Now, can anyone give me a definition of the Dark Arts application to Potions?" Dollops wheezed. Most eyes slid to Severus Snape on the Slytherin side, whose arms was stiff as wood in the air.
"Yes, Mister Snape," Dollops called on him respectfully.
"A Dark Arts potion alters the very nature of one's defining characteristics, changing the personality of a consumer. The other part of the definition is that it tricks an onlooker's senses or causes an onlooker to behave outside his own personality."
"Excellcent. Take five for Slytherin."
"Yes, beautiful, Snivelly," said Sirius Black loudly. "For the Daily Prophet, can I record it again with a Quick Quotes Quill?"
"What, are you unable to write it yourself, Black?" Severus retorted. Lily knew it was a lame comeback, but Severus knew where Sirius was weak-the place where people babied him and believed he couldn't take care of himself. Sirius was about to angrily reply when the professor stopped him.
"Enough, boys, two points off each from Houses Slytherin and Gryffindor. If you don't mind, I would like to fill your empty heads with suitable material."
No answer.
"Malfoy, go fetch a crystal basin from my study," commanded the professor. Lucius Malfoy rose supremely from his seat. He was slick, tall and blond. He was the only one not shedding his black robes. He carried a stick that Lily sort of recognized. In her own neighborhood, there was a private school called Smeltings that had canes as part of their uniforms, with which they hit their classmates.
Malfoy turned his chin up slightly, and the fact that he was taller, stronger and his presence was more powerful seemed radiate off him. He was not delighted to have been appointed a simple servant's task. He indeed looked as though he wanted to hit Dollops with his cane, but he strode into Dollops office. His black robes billowed behind him.
"Here we are," said Dollops, who had been writing on the chalkboard (or rather, charming a piece of chalk to do it for him). "Copy this down." It was a list rules and properties of Dark Potions, and a list of the top ten worst (all of which caused instant death in different ways).
After several minutes, Malfoy emerged from the office delicately carrying a crystal bowl that reflected glow from the flames and shown bits of light on the wall. Lily was afraid Malfoy might drop the wonderful thing to strike back at Dollops for smudging his Malfoy family pride. But he didn't. He set the bowl down gently with just a small 'clink' and shot a nasty smile at Dollops.
"Here it is," Malfoy announced.
"Goodness, you took a long time, Mr. Malfoy," said Dollops, inspecting the bowl.
"My apologies professor," said Malfoy silkily, "but your study is just so remarkable it required a closer look."
"No harm done then," Dollops replied, obviously flattered. Dangerous for him, Lily thought. "Come, everyone, gather around the basin."
The class shuffled forward, shoving somewhat and bustling until they could all see. Dollops gathered up a beaker, a crystal stir stick and a medicine dropper. Though he was old and on the wane, his potion making was still up to par. Lily watched his steady hands quickly pass over the beaker and various liquids he had set up. Sometimes his hand would switch the stir stick and dropper and she wouldn't even spot it until later.
"Here we are now," said Dollops, pouring the mixed contents of the beaker into a bizarre measuring device that involved complicated, twisted tubing that dripped into two separate dishes. When it was done dropping, he slide them over to a bald part of the tables so everyone could see them.
"This is called Wong He," Dollops said. "It's an Asiatic potion." He bent below his desk and retrieved two small cages containing two rats.
Several gasps of 'ew!' and 'cool!' surfaced.
"This is the Norway rat, genus rattus norvegicus. And this one is the Black rat, genus rattus rattus." He released them onto the table. Some students reflexively stepped backwards, others pushed forward willingly. The rats sniffed happily around on the table for a tidbit of food, but their whiskers only felt the potion dishes.
Both of the rats sipped contentedly on the potion, but both shrank away immediately after tasting it.
Then the Norway rat dropped dead. His paw twitched slightly before becoming as still as the grave. The Black rat took no notice and began to scamper the length of the table in search of more food.
The Gryffindors looks grim, but the Slytherins pressed the teacher.
"Cool, sir!"
"Is it really dead, or just in a coma or something?"
"No, it's dead, all right," replied Dollops. "This is a lesson in Potions safety. First, never drink something in my lab, even if you think it's all right. I will tell you what to drink and when. We don't want you like rattus norvegicus here. Which brings me to my second point. You see, the small genetic difference meant life and death for these rats. Potions deals with fine subtleties and variations. If you are off on your calculations, it could mean the worst. Class dismissed."
It was stifling hot in the Potions dungeons the first day of sixth year. All of the flames were burning cleanly at the stations and there was no window or outlet to be seen, except for the door (which remained closed). The students sat in their seats, most of them with their robes hanging on the backs of their chairs. They sat frying in the starch-stiff sweater- vest uniforms. Ties hung loosely around necks and sweat beaded on upper lips. The stone room reeked of body odor and sweat.
Nobody, given the conditions, cared who was a Slytherin or a Gryffindor. The double class suffered together, forgetting to snip at each other and worrying more about passing out.
"Welcome to your sixth-year Potions study," the old Professor Dollops coughed. He was a bent old man that seemed as though he severely needed a cane. Lily had no doubt it was some odd potion that was keeping all the loose pieces of his health and sanity together. "This is the year where your wildest Potions fascinations will be satisfied."
"Sorry, Dollops, old chap, but you're just not my type," Sirius Black called out from the back. Gryffindors laughed appreciatively, James Potter the loudest.
Dollops gave Sirius a jaded smile, which lit up his sagging cheeks and stretched his deeply etched wrinkles even farther.
"As insolent as ever," he said with a chuckle. "A point from Gryffindor. Anyway, this year we're going to be exploring the Dark Magic of Potion- brewing."
Dark whispers arose like a cloud of steam over the heat. The Slytherins looked on Dollops eagerly, the Gryffindors apprehensively.
"Nothing dangerous, of course," said Dollops to the anxious Slytherins, who sighed and rolled their eyes in disappointment. "Just so you know what to look out for. But, we may test some.er.heavily diluted variations of the concoctions on ourselves."
Both sides of them room flashed thumbs-up at each other approvingly. Lily couldn't help but be a little excited. Mostly all they'd done their entire student careers was create potions that made something swell up or discolored you to a mottled purple, and the like.
"Now, can anyone give me a definition of the Dark Arts application to Potions?" Dollops wheezed. Most eyes slid to Severus Snape on the Slytherin side, whose arms was stiff as wood in the air.
"Yes, Mister Snape," Dollops called on him respectfully.
"A Dark Arts potion alters the very nature of one's defining characteristics, changing the personality of a consumer. The other part of the definition is that it tricks an onlooker's senses or causes an onlooker to behave outside his own personality."
"Excellcent. Take five for Slytherin."
"Yes, beautiful, Snivelly," said Sirius Black loudly. "For the Daily Prophet, can I record it again with a Quick Quotes Quill?"
"What, are you unable to write it yourself, Black?" Severus retorted. Lily knew it was a lame comeback, but Severus knew where Sirius was weak-the place where people babied him and believed he couldn't take care of himself. Sirius was about to angrily reply when the professor stopped him.
"Enough, boys, two points off each from Houses Slytherin and Gryffindor. If you don't mind, I would like to fill your empty heads with suitable material."
No answer.
"Malfoy, go fetch a crystal basin from my study," commanded the professor. Lucius Malfoy rose supremely from his seat. He was slick, tall and blond. He was the only one not shedding his black robes. He carried a stick that Lily sort of recognized. In her own neighborhood, there was a private school called Smeltings that had canes as part of their uniforms, with which they hit their classmates.
Malfoy turned his chin up slightly, and the fact that he was taller, stronger and his presence was more powerful seemed radiate off him. He was not delighted to have been appointed a simple servant's task. He indeed looked as though he wanted to hit Dollops with his cane, but he strode into Dollops office. His black robes billowed behind him.
"Here we are," said Dollops, who had been writing on the chalkboard (or rather, charming a piece of chalk to do it for him). "Copy this down." It was a list rules and properties of Dark Potions, and a list of the top ten worst (all of which caused instant death in different ways).
After several minutes, Malfoy emerged from the office delicately carrying a crystal bowl that reflected glow from the flames and shown bits of light on the wall. Lily was afraid Malfoy might drop the wonderful thing to strike back at Dollops for smudging his Malfoy family pride. But he didn't. He set the bowl down gently with just a small 'clink' and shot a nasty smile at Dollops.
"Here it is," Malfoy announced.
"Goodness, you took a long time, Mr. Malfoy," said Dollops, inspecting the bowl.
"My apologies professor," said Malfoy silkily, "but your study is just so remarkable it required a closer look."
"No harm done then," Dollops replied, obviously flattered. Dangerous for him, Lily thought. "Come, everyone, gather around the basin."
The class shuffled forward, shoving somewhat and bustling until they could all see. Dollops gathered up a beaker, a crystal stir stick and a medicine dropper. Though he was old and on the wane, his potion making was still up to par. Lily watched his steady hands quickly pass over the beaker and various liquids he had set up. Sometimes his hand would switch the stir stick and dropper and she wouldn't even spot it until later.
"Here we are now," said Dollops, pouring the mixed contents of the beaker into a bizarre measuring device that involved complicated, twisted tubing that dripped into two separate dishes. When it was done dropping, he slide them over to a bald part of the tables so everyone could see them.
"This is called Wong He," Dollops said. "It's an Asiatic potion." He bent below his desk and retrieved two small cages containing two rats.
Several gasps of 'ew!' and 'cool!' surfaced.
"This is the Norway rat, genus rattus norvegicus. And this one is the Black rat, genus rattus rattus." He released them onto the table. Some students reflexively stepped backwards, others pushed forward willingly. The rats sniffed happily around on the table for a tidbit of food, but their whiskers only felt the potion dishes.
Both of the rats sipped contentedly on the potion, but both shrank away immediately after tasting it.
Then the Norway rat dropped dead. His paw twitched slightly before becoming as still as the grave. The Black rat took no notice and began to scamper the length of the table in search of more food.
The Gryffindors looks grim, but the Slytherins pressed the teacher.
"Cool, sir!"
"Is it really dead, or just in a coma or something?"
"No, it's dead, all right," replied Dollops. "This is a lesson in Potions safety. First, never drink something in my lab, even if you think it's all right. I will tell you what to drink and when. We don't want you like rattus norvegicus here. Which brings me to my second point. You see, the small genetic difference meant life and death for these rats. Potions deals with fine subtleties and variations. If you are off on your calculations, it could mean the worst. Class dismissed."