Chapter 14
Deidre Recaunt
The next day's classes began in Double Potions. Harry wondered if McGonagall had had as much trouble getting Professor Slughorn to agree to a second year as Dumbledore had. He was certainly no less jovial than he'd been last year. "Welcome, welcome!" he said happily as each group of students appeared, and "Good to see you again!" as a few of his Slug Club protégés entered the Potions classroom.
Slughorn had started his sixth-years class with cauldrons of potions for them to identify. This year there was nothing like that in evidence, just rows of empty desks and Slughorn himself, smiling benignly behind his teacher's desk. Harry watched him nod a greeting toward Jon as the American seated himself next to Hermione, and to Zabini, already sitting near Malfoy. There was no jovial greeting for him this year, Harry noted; Slughorn merely smiled and nodded as he entered.
"Welcome back, all of you," Slughorn spread his arms grandly, "and a special welcome to your new classmate from across the ocean, Mr. Jonathan Crown, whom I am delighted to see here today." Harry smiled thinly: Slughorn was still up to his old tricks, buttering up students he felt were destined for greatness or notoriety.
"Well now, well now," Slughorn mused, looking at all of them. "I trust you've all had pleasant summers…" There were several murmurs of assent and nods from the class. Stealing a glance to the opposite side of the room, Harry saw Malfoy, seated next to Theodore Nott, looking bored and irritated.
"Let's begin then, shall we?" Slughorn said, taking out his copy of Advanced Potion-Making. Harry's copy of the book was still in the Room of Requirement; he'd stashed it there after Snape had demanded to see all of his books after the incident with Malfoy and Sectumsempra in the sixth-floor boys' bathroom. Harry raised his hand. "Yes?" Slughorn inquired, looking at Harry with none of the eagerness he'd given to Neville or Jon.
"Er – sir, my copy of Advanced Potion-Making is – misplaced," Harry said. "Do you have a copy I can borrow until I find it again?" He knew there was a copy available, Slughorn had loaned it to him last year, the one owned by the Half-Blood Prince, until Harry had switched covers with the copy he got from Flourish and Blotts and returned the new copy, with its old cover, to Slughorn.
"I'm afraid not, m'boy," Slughorn said genially. "I loaned out the last copy just yesterday. Why don't you share Mr. Weasley's book until your own turns up again? There's a good lad!"
Annoyed, Harry slid closer to Ron, who whispered, "What if you can't find it again? What'll you do then?" Harry just shook his head.
After discussing some of the N.E.W.T.-level potions they would be making during the year, Slughorn set them to making one of the "simpler" ones – the Pepperup Potion, he decided, since "Madam Pomfrey will certainly need some this fall for those of you who are unlucky enough to catch cold," Slughorn explained, beaming at the class.
The class got busy setting up cauldrons and gathering ingredients. Harry and Ron looked up the potion in Ron's copy of the book:
Pepperup Potion
1 c. Pomegranate juice
6 dried hellebore leaves, average size
2 horned-toad livers, average size
1 T. flobberworm mucus
½ t. mandrake powder
¼ t. moonstone powder
Harry went to collect the ingredients from the classroom cupboards. He collected most of the ingredients except the hellebore leaves; nearly every one of the containers in the cupboard was empty, having been taken by other students in the class collecting their own. He finally found a jar near the back of the cupboard and drew six leaves from it, then turned to return to his desk when Jon stopped him.
"That's the wrong kind of hellebore for Pepperup, Harry," Jon said in a low voice.
"How can you tell?" Harry whispered back.
"Smell it," Jon said. Harry did, but there was no odor to the leaves that he could detect.
"I don't smell anything," he said with a shrug.
"Now smell these," Jon said, holding up a small bowl into which he'd placed six hellebore leaves. Harry did and caught a slightly pungent aroma. He blinked and Jon smiled. "They'll smell even more when they're crushed." He looked through the cupboard for a few moments, finally pulling out a jar marked "Dungwort." He opened the jar slightly and sniffed, then nodded and poured out a dozen dried leaves into another bowl.
"These'll work," he said to Harry, handing him the leaves. "They're old but they're still pungent."
"Thanks," Harry said, grateful for the help. He gathered up his other ingredients and returned to the desk where Ron had just finished setting up both their cauldrons.
"What were you and he whispering about?" Ron asked, glancing suspiciously at Jon.
"He was helping me find the right ingredients," Harry said. He glanced to the desk next to them where Jon and Hermione were each beginning to put ingredients into their cauldrons. Hermione, as usual, was meticulously following the recipe as written. Jon, however, seemed to be simply going about it his own way, with hardly a glance at the book.
Harry looked again at the recipe in Libatius Borage's tome:
Crush hellebore leaves, stir into pomegranate juice. Dice livers finely
using a silver knife, stir in slowly. Add ½ tablespoon of flobberworm
mucus, simmer until potion turns pale green, about 30 minutes. Add
mandrake powder slowly, stirring anticlockwise until potion turns gray-
white. Add moonstone powder, potion should begin to steam and turn
pale yellow. Add drops of flobberworm mucus, stirring anticlockwise
between drops until the last drops hangs from stirring spoon but does
not fall. Serve with chocolate.
It looked pretty straightforward, Harry thought. Both Jon and Hermione were chopping their horned-toad livers. He and Ron lit their cauldrons and poured in their pomegranate juice and followed suit. A glance to the other side of the classroom showed that Malfoy and Nott were each working on the potion as well; they seemed to be ignoring each other, Harry noticed.
"Aren't you adding any flobberworm mucus to your potion?" Harry heard Hermione ask Jon.
"No, it's just for thickening," Jon told her, watching the fire under his cauldron flicker. "It'll turn color in about 25 minutes without the mucus in there. I usually add it at the end."
Harry turned back to his own desk. Ron was measuring out a half-tablespoon of mucus. "Let's leave the mucus out for now," Harry said in a low voice. He didn't really want to let Hermione know he was following Jon's recipe, if it didn't work they weren't likely to hear the end of it for some time. Ron shrugged, his mouth twisted as if he were irritated, but he didn't add the mucus to his cauldron.
And sure enough, 25 or so minutes later, Jon, Harry and Ron's cauldrons each showed a simmering pale green liquid. Hermione looked into Jon's cauldron, then at him, stone-faced, but remained silent. Jon, meanwhile had gathered up his mandrake powder and, while stirring his potion, tossed the entire quarter-teaspoon into the pot.
"Oh!" Hermione gasped. Both Harry and Ron jumped at her exclamation, and several other students looked her way. Jon turned to her in surprise. "You weren't supposed to throw all that in at once!" she said in an urgent whisper, conscious of everyone's eyes on her, including Slughorn's.
"Is anything wrong, my dear?" Slughorn inquired solicitously.
"Oh, no, no," Hermione said, smiling and waving her hands to forestall any more questions. "Just thought I'd forgotten something, but it's okay, okay."
Harry leaned over toward Ron and said in a low voice, "It's weird to see Hermione so freaked out, isn't it?"
"By someone other than you or me, yeah," Ron said, scowling. He was adding his mandrake slowly, according to the recipe.
"It's okay, Hermione," Jon was telling her. "The recipe tells you to add it slowly so it's well-blended. But you can also just pour it in with a counterclockwise motion, stirring well; it accomplishes the same goal." He was still stirring his own potion in the same direction. He looked in and smiled; the potion had gone gray-white, just as the recipe had said it should.
Harry grimaced. He had just dumped his mandrake in without waiting to hear Jon's explanation. Hoping he hadn't ruined it, he began stirring his potion vigorously.
"Slow down a bit." Jon had stepped over to look in Harry's cauldron. "You poured all the mandrake powder in at once, didn't' you?" Harry nodded. "It'll come around," Jon said, looking at the swirling contents of Harry's pot. "Just keep up a steady stirring for a while, you don't need to beat it."
"Thanks again," murmured Harry.
"No problem," Jon smiled. "When it goes gray-white, give it about a half-dozen more stirs, then it's ready for the moonstone. After that, put in the half-tablespoon of flobberworm, stir for a minute, then add more as the recipe directs." Harry nodded and Jon stepped back to his own cauldron. Hermione, who'd been sneaking a peek into his cauldron, quickly stepped back to her own.
"Ten more minutes," Slughorn announced from the front of the class. He was sipping from a cup of tea on his desk, one he must have conjured up at some point – Harry didn't remember him getting up to get anything.
Harry continued adding drops of mucus, stirring, and watching the potion drip from the end of his stirring spoon. Beside him, Ron was beginning to do the same. Jon was watching drops of pale yellow potion fall from his spoon into his cauldron, with the last one forming but not falling. He put his spoon down on the desk and looked over at Hermione's potion. She was beaming as her potion acted in exactly the same way.
Ron had just gotten his potion to act like Harry's when Slughorn announced, "Time's up! Now let's see how well you all have done." He began making his way around the room, starting on the opposite side.
"Just in time," Ron whispered to Harry, relieved. "Hey, is this getting easier to do, or what?"
"This was an easy one," Harry said with a thin smile. "But it's probably easier not having Snape to deal with."
"Too right," Ron agreed feelingly. "I always felt like I had rat droppings for brains when he was teaching Potions."
Slughorn, still sipping from his tea cup, had come to Blaise Zabini's potion. He looked in, nodded agreeably, then asked Zabini, "How is your mother getting along these days? I hear she's engaged…"
Zabini smiled emotionlessly. "She is. She's very happy, she tells me. He's a good man."
Good and rich, I'll bet, Harry thought cynically.
"Splendid!" Slughorn boomed delightedly. "I hope she'll send me an invitation. I may not be able to attend, but I have just the wedding present for her!"
Zabini inclined his head in thanks. "I will be sure to let her know."
Slughorn beamed at him and moved to the next cauldron, Malfoy's. He studied it for a few moments, then smiled at Draco as if they were old friends. "My boy, an excellent job, an excellent job, indeed!"
Malfoy flushed. "Thank you, sir," he said, clearly surprised at the praise. He smiled smugly as Slughorn passed on the next pot, pleased at his good showing.
"If he liked Malfoy's," Ron whispered to Harry, "He oughta fall in love with ours."
As it turned out, everyone did a good job with their Pepperup Potions. By the time he'd come around to the front of the room again, Slughorn had almost run out of praiseworthy comments. He did find Jon's potion, however, to be worth one last outburst of praise.
"Truly magnificent!" Slughorn breathed as he stirred Jon's potion and watched the drops fall away, leaving the last one on the edge of the spoon. "A perfect example of the potion! I wish I had a cold now, it would be an honor to be cured by this brew!" He took out his wand and waved it at a cupboard; the door flew open and a box of potion bottles floated out and began moving about the room.
"Take one of the potion bottles and carefully pour your potions into it, then label it with the potion name, your name and the date. I'll deliver them to Madam Pomfrey this evening. She'll let us know which of your potions can be considered 'Healer-worthy'."
"Oh!" Hermione's hand shot into the air. "Professor," she said when he looked her way. "Why didn't you let us know that before we began making the potions?"
"Well, my dear," Slughorn said blandly. "I hope you performed exactly the same steps you would have if you'd known you were making this for a Healer."
"Oh. O-of course," Hermione stammered.
The bell rang. Amid the hubbub of students suddenly moving to pack their cauldrons and scales and get to their next classes came Slughorn's voice. "Your reading assignment is on the board. Answer the essay question at the end of the last chapter; I'd like to have at least 18 inches from each of you. Now be quick, your next class awaits you!"
Hermione began hurriedly searching for her funnel to pour off her potion into the bottle. Jon, having just cleaned his after pouring off his own potion, offered it to her. She accepted it, smiling at Jon.
A book slammed hard behind Harry, startling him. He turned to see Ron thrusting his Potions book into his book bag. Ron tossed his cauldron into his bag as well, not bothering to wash it out, and stalked out of the room without a word to Harry. Neither Jon, nor more importantly, Hermione, seemed to have noticed.
Ron maintained his sullen silence throughout the rest of the day, through another Defense Against the Dark Arts class with an equally sullen but certainly less silent Snape, who spent the entire hour lecturing on categories of advanced Defense magic, assigning them several chapters of reading and two essays, the first on recognizing intended nonverbal spells based on the caster's wand motions and the second, what defenses could be employed against Leglimency other than Occlumency.
It was only near the end of Double Herbology, a class they didn't share with Jon, that Ron calmed down and began acting normally again, especially when Hermione praised him for his technique in harvesting lungwort root, their practical for the second half of the double class.
"That was an interesting class," Ron was saying as they walked back toward the Gryffindor common room after Herbology was over. "Some of Professor Sprout's classes last year were about as interesting as watching mud dry."
"Very funny," Hermione said, but she was smiling indulgently. "I've found all of them interesting in one way or another."
"Well, you would," Ron agreed. "But you're almost as much a teacher's pet in there as Neville is."
"Oh, that's not fair, Ron," Hermione teased him. "Don't you know I'm her favorite student, not Neville?"
They had reached the Gryffindor common room and the portrait of the Fat Lady, who smiled and waved in greeting. "Stoat sandwich," Harry said, giving the password, and the portrait obligingly swung open, allowing them to climb through.
There were a number of students in the common room, studying alone or in small groups, or chatting on various subjects. A few people waved toward them: Dean and Seamus in a group of students listening to Dean talking about Quidditch.
Jon was there as well, sitting alone in an armchair reading a thick book. He looked up and waved as Harry looked his way. Harry waved back, and Hermione smiled and waved as well. Ron ignored him, walking over to an empty table where they could sit and work until dinner. They arranged themselves around the table and pulled out their homework. After a few moments Hermione said softly, "Do we want to see if Jon wants to come and study with us?"
"No," Ron said flatly.
"No?" Hermione repeated, sounding irked. "And why not?"
"Because we have a lot of homework for the next few days," Ron said, waving his hands over their collection of books on the table before him. "And if he comes over here you're going to talk about homework instead of doing it."
"And what if I do?" Hermione said, heating up. "How's that going to stop you from doing your homework?"
"Because it's hard to concentrate with you going on and on about every problem in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes and every other subject you've studied with Mr. Brainwave over there!" Ron popped off. Hermione gasped and looked at him, shocked. Harry winced, silently cursing Ron for being such a prat.
Hermione stood and began gathering her books. "Fine," she said, her lips trembling. "If you don't want to hear me talk I can go somewhere else and work while you stay here and study in 'quiet'," her words a sarcastic comment on the level of noise in the common room. Before Ron could say anything else she turned and stormed out through the common room exit.
Ron watched her go then turned back to look at the book in front of him. Harry glared at him in exasperation. After a few moments Ron looked up at Harry and said irritably, "What?"
"You're really a git sometimes, you know that?" Harry said, annoyed as well.
"Well, she started it!" Ron hissed, keeping his voice low.
"No she didn't!" Harry replied, amazed Ron was trying to foist this off on Hermione.
"Yes she did!" Ron insisted. "She wanted to bring him round again after hanging around him all day!"
"For homework, Ron! For homework!"
"You think it's about homework, do you?" Ron snorted. "I don't know why she doesn't just dump me and be done with it!"
"What d'you mean?"
"Hasn't it been obvious? Blimey, Harry, are you completely gormless? She and I haven't been getting on good since after Bill and Fleur got married! It seems like we fight nearly every day!"
Harry couldn't argue with that; every time he'd seen Ron and Hermione happy lately it seemed to be just before or just after some row they'd had.
"You know what I think?" Harry said finally.
"What?" Ron asked nervously.
"I think we need to get something to eat."
Ron looked at Harry silently for several long moments, then snorted, laughing. "Well, I do my best thinking on a full stomach," he conceded. "Maybe you're right."
They packed up their book bags and ran up to their dormitory, threw their books onto their respective beds, then came back down to the common room. Harry stopped, looking at Jon, then at Ron. Ron sighed, then shrugged and said, "What the hell. Go ahead and ask."
"Hi, Jon," Harry said, walking over to where Jon was sitting. He looked at the book Jon was reading; it did not appear to be one of the texts for any of the classes they were in. "What are you reading?"
"Hi, Harry. Oh, this?" Jon turned the book so Harry could see the cover. It said, "Topics in Advanced Transfigurations" by Janus Jacoby. "I saw it in the Library this afternoon and thought I'd give it a read," Jon said.
He had been reading near the last third of the book, Harry remembered seeing as he'd walked up to Jon. How could someone (other than Hermione, of course) read most of a book like that in an afternoon?
"Uh, Ron and I are going down for dinner," Harry said. "D'you want to come down with us?"
"Sure, I'm getting hungry anyway," Jon agreed. "Thanks!" He stuffed the book into his bag and said, "Let me run this up to my dorm room." He disappeared up the boys' dormitory staircase.
As they stood waiting for Jon to return, Ron said quietly, "Going to the Library to find books to read for something to do. Does that sound like anyone we know?"
"Shut it, Ron."
Jon reappeared a few moments later and they walked down to the Great Hall where dinner was just beginning. "By the way," Jon asked as they were walking in. "What happened to Hermione earlier? I saw her get up and run out of the common room?"
"Er, she remembered something she had to take care of," Harry said, carefully avoiding Ron's gaze. "A, uh, reading assignment." Jon nodded, apparently satisfied with that explanation.
They found seats and began piling food onto their plates. There was roast beef and steak and kidney pies, goulash, fish fillets, bowls of mashed potatoes, gravy and corn, plates of bread and rolls and chips, and mugs of pumpkin juice and ice-cold water. Harry, Ron and Jon all ate as if they were starving, too hungry even to talk – which, for once, Harry was grateful, because he really didn't know what to say to either of them at the moment.
"Hey."
Harry looked up, startled. Ginny had walked up, entirely unnoticed by any of them. She sat down next to Jon, said hi to him and Ron, then looked intently at Harry. "I've got some news about Malfoy."
"What's that?" Harry asked, wondering what was so important she couldn't wait until later to share it.
"The reason why Malfoy's mother bought those Firestars is because they were going to kick him off the team if he didn't come up with some reason for them to keep him on."
"Wait a minute," Ron said, barely able to contain his glee. "Are you saying the Slytherins are blackmailing one of their own?"
"Looks like it," Ginny said with a grin. "Malfoy's failure to kill Dumbledore was somehow leaked; it's made a lot of Wizarding folk upset with Slytherin House and its alumni. A lot of them are encountering bad feelings, and it's turned ugly in some cases – Slytherin alums getting sacked from jobs and the like."
"Serves 'em right," Ron said darkly.
"Maybe so," Ginny replied, shrugging. "But the upshot is, the Slytherins are all pretty much giving Malfoy the cold shoulder now." That explained why he and Nott weren't talking in Potions class, Harry remembered.
"He's still running around with Crabbe and Goyle," Harry said.
"And that's about it," Ginny agreed. "They're the only ones in Slytherin who've stuck by him. And you know how dim they are."
She stood up again. "Gotta go," she said. "I've got some questions for Hermione on Arithmancy before it gets too late."
"Try the Library," Harry said. "I think that's where she was headed earlier."
"Thanks," Ginny said, hurrying off. "See you!"
Almost before she was out of sight, however, two more figures appeared next to Harry and Ron: Luna Lovegood with the other exchange student, Deirdre Recaunt, in tow.
"Hello, Harry, here you are at last," Luna said, smiling dreamily at him.
"Hello, Luna," Harry said, looking at Deirdre who was smiling as well, although looking somewhat nervously at him.
"I've been trying to find a moment when I could introduce you to Deirdre and have a moment to talk," Luna said. "Deirdre wanted very much to meet you."
"She does?" Harry said, surprised. "Why?"
"Well, because you're Harry Potter," Luna said simply, as if that explained everything.
"Hi, Harry," Deirdre said, extending a hand which Harry shook; her hand was soft but she had a firm grip for a girl. "Luna means that everybody's heard of you, and I just wanted to meet you as well, since I had the chance."
"I see," said Harry. "It's nice to meet you. Do you come from around these parts?"
"Yes," Deirdre said. "My – family – lives in a small village not far from here." Harry got the impression she was going to say something other than "family."
Luna pointed to Ron and told Deirdre, "You should meet Harry's friend Ronald Weasley, too. Ronald is very funny sometimes, but he can also be kind of rude." Ron, who had been extending his hand, gave Luna a pained look but shook hands politely with Deirdre.
"Pleased to meet you, Ronald," Deirdre smiled.
"Call me Ron," he said with a smile.
Luna turned to Jon. "You probably remember Jonathan Crown from the Sorting Ceremony. I don't know much about him except that he's supposed to be very smart. I wonder why he didn't sort into Ravenclaw as well."
Jon stood and extended his hand across the table. "Hopefully, I'm living up to my reputation," he said with a smile. Deirdre reached across the table and they shook hands.
"I haven't seen you in any classes, yet," Deirdre said, smiling at him in return. "But I'm not taking very many – only Herbology, Astronomy, Divination, and Transfiguration."
"We may see each other in Transfiguration, then – the first class for seventh-years is later in the week," Jon said, taking his seat. "Are you enjoying the school environment here?"
"It's different than I'm used to," Deirdre admitted. "I'm used to smaller classes, only a half-dozen or so students at a time. And our subjects are more open-ended than here at the school. But it's been very interesting!" she added hastily, looking at Harry as if she'd insulted him.
"I'm sure it must be interesting," Harry agreed, hoping his speaking up would let Deirdre know he hadn't taken offense. "We're probably a different environment than Jon's used to as well."
"Really?" Deirdre said, looking back at Jon. "Where did you go to school before here?"
"At the Merlin School of Advanced Witchcraft and Wizardry in Salem, Massachusetts," Jon said.
Deirdre looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't recall hearing that name before," she said finally. "Where in England is 'Massachusetts?' "
"Nowhere –" Jon said, with a small chuckle "– in England. It's in North America, in the United States."
"Oh, I see!" Deirdre said, sounding a bit awed. You're not even a native of this country! I wondered why your speech patterns were slightly different from everyone else's."
Come to think of it, Harry realized, Deirdre's speech wasn't any British accent he'd ever heard before, from the kind he'd grown up with, spoken around Surrey and in London, to the east-London Cockneys (such as Stan Shunpike) up to the north in York and Lancashire (where Neville and his grandmother were from), or even the Lowlands Scottish accent of Professor McGonagall.
"Your accent is interesting, too, Deirdre," Harry said. "You're from around this area, are you?"
"Oh, ah…" Deirdre covered her mouth, seemingly embarrassed. "I'm such a mush-mouth," she said through her hand. "I need to learn to pronounce my words better." Harry's ears pricked up; was he imagining it or was Deirdre now speaking with the same Surrey accent in his own voice?
"We have a few more people to meet," Luna said, looking around the Hall to see if any of them were there. We should say goodnight to Harry and Ronald and their American friend Jon – we'll see you again soon, I hope?"
"We'll be around," Harry said, nodding to her in a friendly fashion. Deirdre waved to them, giving Jon an extra look and smile, before she and Luna moved off.
Harry and Ron stared after them for a while, then turned back to their meals and continued eating. After a few moments Ron said, without looking up, "So what'd you think about that?"
"Interesting," Harry said, also without looking up. "I can see why Ginny thought she and Luna belonged together."
"I thought she was nice enough," Jon said. "Actually, both of them seemed nice."
"Don't get out much, do you, mate?" Ron said pityingly.