Bonus 2 - The Polyjuice Potion

A week before the events of Chapter 26…

"Well done Goyle. Father will hear of this," said Draco, taking a strand of Longbottom's hair from his loyal servant. "Crabbe, you'd do well to follow his example. Recently, your service has been lacking."

Crabbe grunted and continued polishing his Hermione Pettigrew pin on the blackwood table The Malfoy's had purchased for the Slytherin Common Room. Such a simpleton, a shame that Draco couldn't alert Father of Crabbe's boorish behavior. Subordinating himself to a mudblood, to… to Granger. Draco ground his teeth.

Vincent had always been a dullard. But while he'd once had a modicum of class, it had fled him as soon as he'd met that commoner. It had fled his entire hou- No… No, they'd been following that jumped up mudblood, Lord Voldemort, long before Hermione had gotten her poisonous little claws into his precious house. Voldemort had been the first to sodomize Slytherin's dignity.

Vincent could only see that flashy Order of Merlin, but Draco would prove to him that he'd made a mistake choosing the toxic little commoner over a Malfoy… Over Draco.

The next morning he visited the only student with any class left in Hogwarts. He shooed away the help that occupied his Hospital Wing, so he could have some privacy.

"See this," said Draco, holding up a vial containing a thick mudlike substance. "Polyjuice potion, Finch-Fletcherly. Purchased from Snape for pocket change. It would take Granger a month to brew it, but I can obtain it with a snap of my fingers, as is proper. The peons, though, think she's superior."

Draco scoffed. "She's new money, and she shares their foolishness. Always so eager to make a name for themselves. As if an Order of Merlin makes her some kind of Malfoy! As if class can be earned or bought. This school is going to the mongrels Finch-Fletcherly, mark my words. I'll make that hick Lord Voldemort pay for attacking you! For attacking a gentleman!"

Draco downed the potion. "Hermione Granger's cunning is shallow compared to mine, and soon all shall know it. Gilderoy Lockhart is a death eater, who plots to bring You-Know-Who back to life using the Resurrection Stone. For uncovering this plot, I shall win an Order of Merlin, First Class, and best the bitch once and for all! Unfortunately, Uncle shan't listen to me because of Father's mistakes. So I shall take on the form of an acceptable Gryffindor."

Indeed, Draco's skin began to bubble, and soon he had the appearance of Neville Longbottom. He strutted out of the Hospital Wing, and made his way towards the Gryffindor Common Room to find Sirius Black…

Err… Where was the Gryffindor Common Room again? Vincent would probably know. Draco made his way to the Slytherin Common Room to acquire some assistance. Ahh, but he had the appearance of Longbottom didn't he? Luckily, he was sharp enough to recognize the error in the plot, and made his way to the Potions classroom via the dungeons to demand answers from Professor Snape.

But once again he was foiled.

"Harry?" Asked a voice that could only come from the clueless blood-traitor Ronald Weasley. Draco confirmed it when he illuminated the ghastly red-head with his wand.

"We're here to ask Professor Snape questions," said Neville Longbottom guiltily. "That's all!"

Harry? Draco glowered, and held out a pocket mirror. As expected, he looked like that fool Harry Potter.

"Really?" Draco drawled. "And here I thought Gryffindors used the First Floor Corridors, so why exactly are you loitering in the darkness of the dungeons? Only Slytherins enter the Potions Classroom from below."

Longbottom frowned, eyebrows furrowed. "Are you re-"

"Let me level with you Harry," said Weasley. "We're here to steal answer keys to the midterms."

"But it's not our fault," Longbottom burst. "You know Snape's got it in for me! If my answers aren't perfect, he'll fail me for sure! I know what you'll say, I ought to study- cheating is wrong, and maybe you're right. But if I fail, Gran is gonna force me back home, and I just… You know what it's like Harry, to not want to go back home. Please don't make me go back there."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Be that as it may, it's hardly my problem. If I'm to let you vermin free, I'll need a better offer."

"We'll give you the answer keys as well," said Weasley. "You could shove it in Snape's face. An O, and you won't even have to study!"

"I could even beat Hermione," said Neville gleefully. "Wipe that smug smirk off her face for once."

Surprisingly, they'd raised a few good points. Several actually. "Alright, I'm in. What's the plan?"

"Well," said Weasley. "We thought we'd just wait in the dark until Snape left. Then sneak in and nick the answer keys."

Draco snorted. "Just what I'd expect from a couple of doddering Gryffindors. Thoughtless, cloddish, and utterly devoid of sophistication. Lucky for you, I'm here. Longbottom, you're to go to Severus and tell him that Potter's found the house elves and used his filthy muggle values to convince them to unionize. When Severus leaves his post to deal with the mess, me and Weasley will acquire the answer key, copy it, and leave a copy so Severus is none the wiser."

Draco sneered at the two boys. He knew from experience that they'd lose their nerve if he played along. He was simply too valuable. It was to be expected, he was a Malfoy after all. Any moment, they'd be running to Father to keep him from danger. If he didn't know any better, he'd have long since thought that Crabbe and Goyle secretly despised him. Not that he cared of course, they were only the help.

"You're a genius Harry," said Ron eagerly.

"Snape's always got it out for you," said Neville. "He'll jump at the chance to get at you. Although maybe we ought to tell him something a little more… grounded. Like what if we tell him Harry's in The Forbidden Forest delivering a baby dragon out of Hogwarts?"

Ron chortled. "Brilliant Neville!" The two of them glanced at him with eager smiles, as if they were telling some kind of joke. Draco chuckled, to keep his cover.

"I suppose that would work," said Draco graciously. "Just get Severus out. I don't care how."

Draco dimmed his wand, and Neville entered the Potions classroom.

"Professor Snape," Neville said, his eyes darting around the classroom nervously. "It's uh… It's Harry sir… He's uhh… He…"

"What's happened to Potter?" Asked Severus sharply, rising from his desk, withdrawing his wand, and hurrying over to Longbottom. The candles in the dungeons extinguished and relit, darkness and light battling in the classroom. "Tell me."

"He err… He's uhh…"

Ron moved to help Longbottom. Draco held him back, safely out of sight. "Let him get through this." And don't blow my cover you dimwitted Gryffindor.

"He's smuggling a dragon into The Forbidden Forest. A baby dragon. He's err… He thinks it's the right thing to do, but err… It's dangerous sir!"

Severus's shoulders relaxed for just a moment, and then his lips curled. "Potter. And a dragon. Idiot boy, a dragon is not a domesticated companion. Truly foolish, to believe I wouldn't find out." His dark eyes focused on Neville. "Tell me Longbottom. Are you quite sure you've seen Potter with a dragon? You're not mistaken, as you are so often? I wonder why've you told me? Why not Professor McGonagall, so you can protect your precious Gryffindor?"

Draco licked his lips. They'd not gone over this.

"Be-because I warned him," said Neville, trembling, sweating, but meeting Severus's gaze all the same. "A-and he didn't listen! He never listens, and he puts us all in danger! Professor Mc-Mcgonagall, the other professors, even Headmaster Dumbledore, none of them ever hold him accountable. It's their fault he's like this! Whenever Harry does something like this, they always cover it up. A-and it's not good for h-him, he thinks everything is s-some kind of game! He's got to get in trouble, real trouble, t-to learn!"

"Well said, Longbottom," drawled Severus. "Lead the way."

A shuffling of footsteps, and then the clunk of a closed door.

Draco and Ron scrambled into the classroom. Where was the answer key? Where was it? They searched his desk. Atop it was a single open parchment, with a simple sentence scrawled across it.

'I know what you're doing.'

Draco swallowed.

"He probably just leaves that on his desk when he's out of the classroom," said Ron carelessly, opening up a filing cabinet. "Wanker. Look at how he's titled these: 'Turn Back', 'I'm watching', 'I always know', 'Imbeciles'. He's just a freak, Harry."

Ron opened up a textbook. It bellowed. "CHEA-"

Draco slammed it shut. "Be more careful, you doddering moron!" He swatted the fool on the head.

"Sorry," said Ron.

A row of eyeballs, floating in glass jars arranged on a shelf, rotated in their fluid so they were gazing at Draco wherever he went.

"They're just eyes, mate," said Ron, nervously. "Nothing to worry about. They don't have mouths, so they can't tell Snape on us, right?"

"It's too late to turn back now," said Draco, smiling for some reason. Had he completely lost his wits? He looked through the filing cabinet, pausing when he reached a certain title: 'FOR ENEMIES'.

He pulled out the folder and looked through the pile of papers. Inside were copies of all of Professor Snape's midterms, as well as corresponding answer keys. He found the papers he needed, the two versions of the Spring First Year Midterm, and spread it out over Professor Snape's hollow metal desk.

"Create copies, Weasley," ordered Draco.

Ron looked at him blankly. "Err… About that mate…"

Draco folded his arms. "It's my plot. It was I who found the papers. Even the brightest among us need henchmen to do the grunt work. Make yourself useful."

Of course, Weasley would just rebel. The help had grown uppity recently, just look at Crab-

Ron smiled. "Alright… Yeah, I may have a spell which might work."

Draco allowed himself a small measure of satisfaction. It appeared that he wasn't the problem. If Crabbe and Goyle were competent, if they were anything more than a couple of low-class toadies, his schemes would be far more successful.

Ron pointed his wand at the answer key, and said, "Gemino!"

But instead of creating two or three copies, the fool had created thousands. Sheets of answer keys fluttered into the air like snowflakes in a blizzard.

"You've ruined it, Weasley," said Draco. "Well, there's nothing for it. We've got to leave, and hope Longbottom doesn't turn on us."

Ron scooped up a handful of answer keys. "We've still got time. Look, its not even copying itself anymore. As long as we pick 'em all up, we'll be fine."

Draco huffed. "F-"

The door to the classroom creaked open. Professor Snape and Quirrell stood by the entrance. Quirrell quickly scanned the room, briefly making eye contact with Ron and Draco.

Snape's smile widened. "Potter. So, you were behind this. I can hear your Fath-"

"It was his idea," said Draco, pointing at Weasley.

Snape scowled. "Don't lie-"

"It really was," said Weasley. "Harry didn't have anything to do with it. He was trying to talk me out of it-"

"Severus," said Quirrell. "You know as well as I, that Harry Potter is far too important to be expelled. He is special, and will be given the latitude provided to those who are exceptional. Give them detention, and be done with it. Stop frightening the boy. Look into his eyes. He's terrified."

Professor Snape glanced at Draco. Draco shuttered, for some reason he felt naked, exposed, under Snape's penetrating gaze. "Very well," said Snape. "Three weeks detention."

"Allow me to escort Weasley back to his house," said Quirrell.

"I will escort Weasley," said Snape.

"Very well," said Quirrell, chuckling. "But before you go, make sure Mister Weasley sits in the front of your classroom during lecture. And make sure he tells you the exact time he'll be studying for your exam. He's a good mind, but he's afflicted with a couple learning disorders. I've already spoken with Minerva about private reading lessons. Ronald, you're not lazy. Such thinking is antiquated and unproductive. Perhaps with some modifications, and improved effort on your part, you might win back Miss Granger's attention."

Ron blushed. Quirrell met Ron's eyes. "I don't… Err… Thank you, sir."

Quirrell chuckled. "I am simply doing my due diligence."

Ron and Snape left.

"And you," said Quirrell, turning to Draco. "Do you have something to tell me?"

Draco met Quirrell's icy blue eyes. Well, Quirrell wasn't Sirius Black, but he was a half-blood right? So he wasn't one of You-Know-Who's and he hadn't been in The Evil Order either, so he wasn't one of Dark Lord Dumbledore's puppets either. Should he tell him about The Resurrection Stone? About Lockhart's nefarious plot? About how that bitch Granger was going to…

Something about all this… Something about Quirrell… Draco glanced at his feet. Why was he trembling? Why was he sweating? Why could he hear his heart hammering? Draco took a step back- tried to, he tripped over his feet and collapsed in a heap.

"Impressive," said Professor Quirrell. "You've been raised well. Give your father my regards."

Draco sprinted to the nearest bathroom, hurled, and collapsed next to the porcelain. Mind readers. Rare and powerful and definitionally dark. Father had warned him of them. He didn't know what to make of Professor Quirrell, but he wouldn't be speaking of You-Know-Who's plans anytime soon.

XOXOXOX

"Ronald," said Professor Snape softly, as they neared the Gryffindor Common Room. "Do not talk about Hermione in Professor Quirrell's presence. Don't even think of her."