Chapter Five

Revenge

The morning of our first day of lessons back at Hogwarts, Hestia and I waited in the corridor outside of Professor Slughorn's classroom with a handful of students our age from other houses, whose long faces and shadowed eyes spoke of exhaustion from the events of the night before. It was tradition for all the houses to have a party in their common rooms our first night back at school, though unfortunately, most of those nights fell before our first lessons of the term. And from what I had seen over the years, showing up hungover to your first lesson—especially Double Potions, like today—was not a pleasant experience.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Hestia moaned beside me, leaning back against the wall of the dungeon corridor. She did look pale. I edged away from her slightly.

"That's what you get for pounding shots of firewhiskey all night," I retorted lightly.

She gave me a dark glare from beneath her black fringe.

"Why don't you look like you're on the verge of death like the rest of us?" she said, gesturing to the silent and sickly students around us. Her eyes narrowed. "Did you even drink last night?"

"You know I don't drink," I said, suddenly feeling very awkward when she nodded, frowning.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that." She shrugged, brushing the moment off easily and grinning at me. "Smart choice, though. At least we know you won't be the one who pukes first today."

I chuckled. "You're right about that."

We lapsed back into silence, and I checked my watch, seeing that it was five minutes to nine. Professor Slughorn, for all his eccentricities, was usually a punctual wizard, and I frowned at the classroom door, wondering what was taking him so long.

Raucous laughter suddenly echoed down the dungeon corridor. The sound reverberated in the narrow space, and many of the students nursing migraines from their night of partying flinched and covered their ears. Even I winced at the loudness of it, but I wasn't surprised when the Marauders appeared a few moments later, still laughing wildly at whatever joke had been made.

I caught Potter's eye before I could look away, and the messy-haired boy shot me a wink from the opposite wall, grinning wickedly. I rolled my eyes, returning my attention to the door, but Hestia grabbed my elbow, yanking me around to face her with a slack jaw.

"Did James Potter just wink at you?" she demanded.

"No," I said automatically, to her immediate disbelief. "Bloke probably just had a muscle spasm or something. It's not uncommon."

"Come off it," she said dubiously. "I have eyes, you know."

"Shockingly, so do I."

"Why would he wink at you?" she asked again, and I sighed, knowing that she wouldn't let the topic go unless I gave her a satisfiable answer. Hestia was the most persistent person I knew, and though it was an admirable quality, I really disliked her for it at times—like now. "I don't think I've ever seen you two interact—well, aside from the Snape thing last term…"

"That was our only interaction," I said. "Or I hoped it would be until Nic invited his stupid teammates over to our place this summer." I shook my head. "Now Potter has some twisted idea in his head that I'm a boring Ravenclaw who needs to learn how to have fun and cause trouble, and he's offered to be my mentor, or whatever."

Hestia burst into laughter, and the migraine-ridden students gave her poisonous looks. She drew the attention of the Marauders too, and I grimaced when their gazes flicked in our direction.

"I'm sorry, but that's hilarious, G," she said, putting a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. "I can't believe Potter would do such a thing!"

"He's an annoying git, of course he can," I grumbled, wishing this conversation would end already.

It seemed someone had been nice enough to answer my prayers that day, however, for just then Professor Slughorn swung open the door to the classroom, his round belly protruding out at us as he proclaimed, "Come in, come in! I have a treat for you all today!"

The students shuffled into the classroom, Slughorn greeting them as they filed in with varying levels of enthusiasm. He positively beamed when he saw me, saying in that booming voice of his, "Miss Valentine, wonderful to see you! I was beyond thrilled when Professor Dumbledore informed me one of my star pupils was returning for my N.E.W.T. class!"

"It's good to be back, sir," I said, giving him a winning smile. "I look forward to seeing what your genius mind has cooked up for us this year."

Slughorn swelled with pride at my statement, and I grinned to myself. Flattery went a long way, I had learned, and I wasn't afraid to use it to my advantage when I could.

"Have a seat, Miss Valentine, and you'll soon find out," he said, giving me a secretive wink, and I smiled again, joining Hestia at her seat while she shook her head at me in mock disgust.

"You're a real teacher's pet, you know that?" she said.

"I do," I said cheekily, but my grin slipped a little when I heard Slughorn now gushing over Lupin and Lily Evans, his two favorite Gryffindors. "Too bad I'm not anyone's favorite, though."

Hestia shrugged. "They're Gryffindors. They always get the spotlight."

I thought of my brothers and how Mum and Dad always doted on them, how they had glided their way through school without even working hard, and I scowled. Hestia was right, of course, but that didn't mean I had to like it.

"Now then, let's get settled in!" Slughorn said, closing the door behind him and waddling his way to the front of the room, where four cauldrons were set up. They filled the classroom with humid vapors and contrasting smells, and Hestia and I shared a glance, wondering what was in the cauldrons. Others were wondering too, it seemed, for the room now abounded with whispers and mutters as Slughorn faced us all.

"Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making," he said, waiting for a few moments as everyone complied. Once the flurry of activity had settled, he spoke again.

"What I have prepared for you today are potions that I expect you to be able to make by the end of your N.E.W.T. year." He gestured with a wide hand to the simmering cauldrons. "Can anyone tell me what potions I have brewed up here?"

There was a moment of silence as everyone studied the contents of the cauldrons, sizing them up. I eyed the one nearest Hestia and me, taking it in: it was colorless, like clear water, and when I sniffed, concentrating, it was odorless. There was only one thing it could be, and I raised my hand smugly.

Slughorn beamed, pointing to me. "Have one of 'em figured out, Miss Valentine?"

"The first cauldron is Veritaserum, Professor," I said. "It's colorless and odorless, and when taken, it forces the drinker to tell the truth."

"Excellent, five points to Ravenclaw!" Slughorn said jovially, and Hestia gave me a high-five under the table. "Now, who can tell me this one… Yes, Miss Evans?"

He had indicated a slow-bubbling, mud-like substance in the next cauldron, and Evans's hand was raised so high in the air I let the poor girl have her opportunity.

"Polyjuice Potion, sir," she said. "If you mix it with the hair from another person, it gives you the ability to transform into that person temporarily."

"Quite right, Miss Evans! Five points to Gryffindor!"

He moved over to a small black cauldron with the potion within splashing merrily about; it was the color of molten gold, and large drops leaped like goldfish above the surface.

"A most curious little potion, this one is," Slughorn said. "Who can—? Go ahead, Mr. Lupin."

Lupin's hand had shot into the air excitedly, and I looked at him, disgruntled; I had yet to place the potion myself.

"Felix Felicis," Lupin said reverently. "Or 'Liquid Luck.' It gives the drinker luck!"

"Take another five points for Gryffindor," Slughorn said, nodding encouragingly. "And finally, our last one…"

My hand shot into the air before anyone else's. The mother-of-pearl sheen, the steam rising in characteristic spirals… I had this one in the bag.

Slughorn opened his mouth to call on me, but before he could get a word out, a voice called from the back, "Amortentia."

I whirled around, my eyes widening in shock before narrowing when I saw Sirius Black lounging in his seat, looking so carelessly handsome that my gut clenched, but my teeth ground together in annoyance when he shot me an arrogant smirk.

"Well done, Mr. Black," Slughorn said, bemused. "And can you tell me what it does?"

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world," he said easily as if he himself had been the one to create it. "It smells different to everyone, based on what attracts them. For example, I smell leather, chrome pipes, and fuel."

He grinned like he had just told the best joke in the world, and the Marauders snickered around him, putting their heads down when Slughorn frowned, perplexed.

"Right you are, Mr. Black," he said. "Though it should be noted that Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession."

"Not like Padfoot needs any help in that department," I heard Potter snigger from the back, and I rolled my eyes at their hushed laughter, going back to glowering at my Potions book.

"Five more points to Gryffindor for Mr. Black's answer— Yes, Mr. Black?" Slughorn looked faintly annoyed when Black raised his hand again, but the dark-haired boy merely grinned back.

"I'd like to give my points to someone else, sir," he said, and I froze when he nodded in my direction. "Georgie here had her hand up before I so rudely shouted out the answer, so I want her to take the points."

He winked at me, and I flushed bright red, turning back to Slughorn hastily and ignoring the many stares boring into me.

"Er, very well," Slughorn said. "The five points go to Miss Valentine and Ravenclaw, then. Now, moving along with today's lesson…"

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Hestia whispered as soon as Slughorn's back was turned. I shrugged helplessly, wishing I had an answer.

Potter and Black, for whatever reason, had seemed to take an interest in me after all that had happened these last few months, and it was beginning to worry me. I had always daydreamed about what it would be like for them to notice me, but now I realized that the reality was actually a nightmare.

This had to be about me taking points off them after the Snape debacle, I thought bitterly. This attention was just their way of giving me hell for almost making them lose the House Cup. I shook my head angrily; they were gits—arrogant, bullying gits, and nothing would ever change that. I should've never gotten involved with them, never should've stepped up between them and Snape. They were going to make my life miserable from now on.

"Since this is an advanced and challenging class and it is your first day, I will assign you to work in four groups, each with four students, to begin work on one of the potions I have made up here," Slughorn announced. "Let's see…

"Miss Evans, Miss Fortescue, Mr. Lupin, and Mr. Pettigrew will work together on Felix Felicis; Mr. Snape, Mr. Avery, Miss Bulstrode, and Mr. Nott will have Polyjuice Potion; Mr. Fletchley, Miss Dawson, Miss Clairfough, and Miss Nguyen will work on Veritaserum; and Miss Valentine, Miss Jones, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Black will get to work on Amortentia."

Slughorn waggled his eyebrows, and Hestia and I shared a horrified glance. He was making us work on a love potion with Black and Potter?

"Find out where you'll be sitting and snap to work!" he said cheerfully. "You have two hours to brew, starting…now!"

There was a rush of scraping chairs and flitting students as they found their partners and began to collect supplies from the storeroom. After a laborious sigh, I stood from my seat, ignoring the intense weight of dread in my gut.

"C'mon," I said heavily. "Maybe they'll just sit back and let us do the work."

Hestia didn't seem too enthused, but she followed me to the back of the room anyway, where Potter and Black were sitting and looking smug while we took the seats across from theirs.

"Don't think you can escape me so easily, Ravenclaw," Potter said, grinning mischievously. I gave him a blank look, opting to ignore him and begin setting out my supplies.

"Are you giving me the silent treatment now, Ravenclaw?" he asked. "You wound me, truly—we became such good friends this summer—"

"We are not friends, Potter," I snapped, looking up and meeting his hazel eyes. "We have had a total of four conversations, which would make us acquaintances more than anything, but considering I don't want to be acquainted with you anyway, that makes us nothing. Now, if you'd please begin heating the cauldron while I collect our ingredients, that would be wonderful."

I marched to the storeroom, fuming. I sifted through the shelves and contents, searching for what I needed and ignoring the seedling of guilt sprouting in my chest.

I rarely ever snapped at anyone; my brothers were fair game, considering all the things they had done to me over the years, but I always tried to be reserved and calm, even kind. But the way Potter was acting, as if we were chummy with each other after one night, as if I hadn't been anybody to him before now, was driving me mad. The last thing I needed in my life was trouble, and unfortunately, that was all he and his friends were.

"Poor James looked almost ready to cry when you yelled at him."

I fumbled with the vial I had been examining, whirling around to see Sirius Black behind me, smirking, though I could tell he was tense just by the way he was standing. He usually had a relaxed sort of grace about him, but now his arms were crossed defensively, his stance dominating.

"I didn't yell at him," I said, averting my eyes and returning to my search. "But everything I said was right: We aren't friends."

"What if he wanted to be?" he said. I glanced at him sideways, frowning. "Your friend, that is."

"Then I'd hex him before he could get back at me for taking points off you last term," I said. "That's all this is, isn't it? Some ploy to get me off my guard, so you can get your revenge on me for what I did?"

"You seriously think this is about you taking points off us?"

I turned at his incredulous tone, my brows furrowing when he looked at me as if I had just announced plans to elope with one of Professor Kettleburn's hippogriffs.

"What else could it be about?" I demanded. "You even told me yourself this summer that you hadn't forgotten about it!"

"It's called a joke, Ravenclaw," he said, rolling his grey eyes. "Learn how to take one."

I stared at him, uncomprehending. "What?"

He sighed, irritated. "Look, any other year, we would have gotten you back for what you did. And originally, we were going to until Nic's party."

I listened in silence, feeling as if everything I had ever known was being chucked out the window.

"James told me afterward that you two had talked," he continued. "He said that you gave him some solid advice regarding Evans, which he is now trying to abide by, and he felt like he owed you one. Him trying to be your friend is him saying thank you for helping him out."

Holy Rowena Ravenclaw. James Potter had actually taken my advice? He had listened to me? And now he wanted to be my friend because of it?

I thought back to last night when he approached me and offered to be my mentor. Had that been him reaching out in some weird Marauder way? Was he serious about wanting to be my friend?

"Well, bugger," I said, letting out a sigh and rubbing my forehead. "Now I sound like a right bint."

Black grinned, and my stomach swooped at the sight, my nerves returning now that my mind-blowing revelations had stopped and I realized I was standing alone in the storeroom with him.

"James is an easy bloke," he said, surprising me with his own advice. "Apologize and move on from it. He'll forgive you."

"And you?" I asked, almost nervously. He raised a perfectly arched brow at me. "Have you forgiven me for taking points off you?"

"I've forgiven you," he said, but before I could relax, he gave me a wolfish grin that immediately put me on edge again. "But I haven't forgotten."

He reached out, grabbing a lock of my hair and spinning it around his finger, and I gulped. His grey eyes locked with mine, and I swore my knees shook a little.

"You'll learn, Ravenclaw," he promised—because that was what Sirius Black did, I realized. He didn't make grand statements or declarations—he made promises, and those were infinitely worse. "My revenge is far sweeter, and takes far longer to satisfy."

He smirked, and my stomach twisted in a way that had nothing to do with nerves before he released my hair and exited the storeroom.