Chapter 8 - Polyjuice Potion Variations

Hogwarts was a huge castle but when most of the students left for the Christmas break, it seemed almost endless. The usual crowded hallways were mostly empty when Minerva McGonagall made her way to the Headmaster's office.

Albus Dumbledore seemed lost in thought when she greeted him. It took him a while to regain his usual composure and she had a strange feeling that perhaps she was disrupting his thoughts.

Minerva was always polite towards people; she was a lady. And a lady did not like to be ignored. She shook off this feeling. She had known Albus for years and sometimes he was like that. Distant.

He cleared his throat and put on his usual warm smile.

"What a pleasant surprise Minerva," he said after she took her seat opposite to him. "What brings you here tonight my dear? Missed my company, perhaps?"

His eyes were twinkling and she could tell that the smile reached to them. She felt bad knowing that maybe he wouldn't be so happy after their little chat.

"Your company is always a pleasure to me, Albus," she smiled genuinely at him, "but it's been quite some time since we had a talk about our transfer student."

Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles. He knew Minerva and he had no doubt she would come eventually.

She was against Wulfrick's miserably gifted daughter since she had first begun lessons with the girl. Definitely she waited, hoping that he himself would see the pointlessness of Katia's further education. He decided to play his game for a while. Maybe Minerva would give up, seeing that it's pointless to question his decisions.

"As a matter of fact I was curious how was she doing under your tutelage."

Minerva sighed. Unfortunately she couldn't admit that it was going very well. Quite opposite if she was about to be honest with herself. For what ever progress made, she was set back further then when they had started.

"That's the problem I wanted to discuss with you. I did my best to teach her the art of transfiguration and I must say she's a hard worker, but that's still not enough."

Dumbledore spoke with his ever-patient grandfatherly voice.

"I'm sure that she will make progress with time, and you my dear, must be more patient. Not all students are as talented as my Transfiguration Mistress. Some of them need to be guided a little longer to find their path."

She sighed again. Albus Dumbledore was such an impossible man sometimes. He was stubborn, he knew that he was and she knew that he was.

There were times when she enjoyed his little games, especially when pitted against Severus. Not that she hated Severus so much, but that he was a good opponent for Dumbledore.

She was just tired when her efforts led her back to the starting point.

"The thing is that even with my tutelage and her extend theoretical knowledge, her progress is barely visible," her voice took a on a slight persuasive tone, "That is why I believe we made a mistake placing in allowing her to remaining at Hogwarts."

Albus needed to change tactics and make her argument become one of a defensive nature rather then persuasive.

"My, my, are you prejudiced Minerva? Was she not polite?" He seemed to be puzzled as he looked at her with raised brows.

McGonagall's expression became very concerned. She was not by the any means prejudiced. Maybe he really couldn't see her point?

"I have never said that I don't like Miss Ivanov," uttered Minerva heavily, weighing the thought in her mind, "As a matter of fact I feel bad for her, because our standards are too high for this poor child. She works too much and the result is still not enough."

She sighed. "It would be better if she had a home schooling. Everything would be set at the right time, with a teacher who would be patient and could wait for her. As much as I try, I can't do the exercises for her and I can't wait,"

Seeing a disbelieving look on Dumbledore's face, she added, "Albus, what I'm trying to say is that I don't want her to feel left behind when all the other students are making such progress and she is not. It's almost painful to see her put forth such an effort only to barely scratch the surface of a simple spell."

And she meant it with all her heart. She felt bad for Harry who was an orphan and was carrying such a large burden on his shoulders. Katia Ivanov was not so different. Though not an orphan, the challenge of keeping up with Hogwart's minimal standers was still a great burden.

She could see that the girl tried as hard as she could and it wasn't enough for an "Acceptable". She should have an "Outstanding" for her efforts and forcing her to work so hard was cruel in Minerva's opinion.

"It's very kind of you Minerva and I appreciate your efforts to help Katia, but you must understand that she needs a challenge and she can set an example to many of our students at Hogwarts that hard work and persistence lead to success," said Dumbledore after a while.

It wasn't in his nature to be open, even with Minerva. He was used to his loneliness, being surrounded by a crowd of people. Even among those who were as close to him as a family. He was wise and there were very few who could challenge his mind or knowledge. He learned to hide his true reasons behind the safe façade of an old man.

He would never admit that he took Katia because she was Wulfrick's daughter and was training to become an Adept to be used as a spy to hunt down the ex-Death Eaters. The challenges and deeds required of such a role would make the years at Hogwarts seem like paradise.

Minerva would think him a cruel, heartless man, no better then Voldemort himself.

Maybe he was and maybe he wasn't, but sacrifices had to be made and those around him had to be ready for whatever lay ahead in the greater turn of events. He knew that people like Katia and Harry would make a difference. Some more so then others but everyone had to play their part. He was wise enough to know that pawns would win the game in the end.

Besides, Katia was not as important to him personally as Harry, whom he had an almost parental concern for.

There was no way for Minerva to understand all of this from his point of view. And it wasn't necessary. He liked her attitude towards Katia and under normal circumstances he would agree that Hogwarts isn't for witches who could barely produce a spark from their wands, but now it was different.

Poor Minerva continued to do her best to convince him that she was right.

"I understand you, I really do, but is this setting-an-example thing worth it? Is it fair to give her such a burden? To force her to make things she physically cannot do?"

Albus smiled and covered her hand with his own, to underline his words.

"Katia is stronger than you think, she can manage it if you let her. We need her and the Ivanov family. We must do everything to keep her here, because I have a feeling that we will need it. You must support her and tutor her Minerva, and I think that no one can do it better than you."

She did not seem convinced but he felt her giving up.

"Thank you for your kind words, Albus, but I am not entirely sure if it is right, you know."

Albus Dumbledore avoided conflicts at any costs, since his brother broke his nose. And he was a master of changing topics.

"I think it's time for a supper. Would you like to walk with me? I've heard today the House Elves made fresh cakes for Christmas and they will give us a piece to try."

Minerva McGonagall knew when her efforts to convince the Headmaster were useless, such as now.

And she knew what she should do.

"Oh, really? Of course I will walk with you. I can't wait."

She should agree with Albus, because there was no other way in most cases. And pretend that she is not entirely aware of his retreat behind the familiar façade of a friendly old man with a sweet tooth.

As Harry and Ron waited in the deserted entrance hall after the Christmas tea for Crabbe and Goyle, they never noticed a figure lurking in the shadows.

Argus Filch was extra watchful since Katia told him about the Polyjuice potion. When he watched them, he figured out that it would be too obvious if Harry Potter really was a powerful dark wizard. He was always found in the middle of the crime scene and his puzzlement seemed sincere. Besides he and his friends made the potion for some reason.

He watched as the two overfed students ate two suspicious cakes and fell on the floor with a thud. He raised his eyebrows even, seeing the two baboons being carried to the broom closet.

He followed the two Gryffindors while they headed to the flooded bathroom on the second floor and waited until they appeared again, looking like the two Slytherins who stuffed in the broom closet.

It was strange that the Granger girl wasn't present but he decided to leave it for later.

He continued to follow at a safe distance. They met the prefect, Percy Weasley and shortly after that, Draco Malfoy passed dangerously close to him. Fortunately the blonde was too focused on the three boys to notice his presence.

Filch couldn't enter the Slytherin common room, so he waited outside. He could only guess what Potter and Weasley might be doing there. And he was too focused to stay unnoticed by the others to think about the possibilities.

Finally they left in a rush. He could see that the potion was wearing off because the clothes were too big for the boys and their features were changing rapidly.

He ran after them to see that they left their shoes near the broom closet, where the two real Slytherins were obviously waking up.

So, Potter and Weasley pranked some unfortunate Slytherin, or talked with Malfoy, or whatever else. He was glad that they didn't impersonate some teacher to steal things from his or her office.

But he was still curious. It infuriated him to no end that he could only wonder and speculate about their reason for making Polyjuice potion and he had no answers. It just added a dozen new questions to the large list of the previous, unanswered ones.

Some time later, one tiny mystery was solved. The Granger girl accidentally turned into a cat. So that was the reason for her absence. But who was she about to impersonate? Professor McGonagall maybe?

"I understand it Hermione and I, we, feel very bad for you," said Harry. It was one of many evenings that he spent with Ron visiting Hermione in Hospital Wing.

"Maybe you should steal Ivanov's hair? I've never seen her with any pets," he continued.

Before Hermione had a chance to respond, Ron spoke in angry tones.

"People say that you spend time with her in the library. You shouldn't side with a Slytherin, they're slimy liars!"

"Ron!" Rebuked Harry.

"What? You want me to be quiet while I'm only telling the truth?" Hissed Ron.

"Boys, please," said Hermione. "We just study together sometimes. She's helpful, besides we don't talk about anything except homework. She has no chance to poison my mind with all this pureblood talk."

She lifted herself on the pillow and continued in a tone that was very similar to Professor McGonagall's.

"You don't have to talk with her, but I want to. I will manage to study with her and be careful enough. Don't be so nasty just because she's in Slytherin. It reminds me of the prejudice Malfoy shows. He hates me just because I'm a Muggleborn."

Ron was impatient and he furrowed his brows.

"Hermione, we are just worried about you. She's a Slytherin and they do things for a reason."

Harry was silent. Once again he thought about the Sorting Hat. There was a great possibility that he could have been placed there. Were his actions driven by any particular reasons? Did he keep company to with Ron and Hermione because of benefits?

He wanted to be accepted for himself; not for his name and the great thing he did as a baby. Did that count as taking advantage of their friendship? Wasn't he selfless when he spent evenings with Hermione in the Hospital Wing.

"I can't deny that maybe our meetings in library are in favor for Katia, all right? But she's polite, she's funny and she never treats me like someone of lesser worth because of my heritage."

Maybe that wasn't all true, because Katia seemed shy and sure of herself at the same time. She was annoying sometimes, especially when she started something and left it unfinished.

Hermione did not like her looking through people like they did not exist. She also never knew when Katia was serious and when she was only teasing. Nevertheless, Hermione couldn't say that because even if she said everything was fine, the boys would still have a bad opinion about the Slytherin girl.

Honestly, Hermione had to admit that Katia was a challenge in Potions and her knowledge of the Wizarding World helped. So, their acquaintance was worthwhile on both sides. That's why she needed to defend the Ivanov girl against her friend's accusations.

She wondered about Harry's silence. Did it mean that he was agreeing with her or with Ron? Maybe he was thinking of new arguments? Anyway she preferred to have him on her side.

"Harry, please are you mad at me?"

The concentrated look on Harry's face changed to a more comprehensive one and he shook his head.

"No Hermione, I'm not. Just be careful, and I- I think that I'm not ready yet to talk with Ivanov. Besides, the library isn't my favorite place to spend an afternoon, you know."

Hermione turned her furry face towards her redhead friend. "Ron?"

"All right. Do as you want, but don't say that I never warned you. And don't expect me to befriend her. Merlin, Ivanov is plain, untalented and a Slytherin, with her baggy clothes and horrible accent, I wonder why someone would want to be friends with her."

Ron never liked Slytherins and he knew very well what rich, pureblood families thought about Weasleys. He was concerned about Hermione and he was afraid that maybe she would prefer Ivanov's company to his. She was good in potions and it seemed that she was likeable sometimes. Even Neville told him that he didn't mind her. He couldn't forbid anything to Hermione, but he would watch over her, just to be safe.

Ivanov could be nicer and uglier than Malfoy, but she was still a snake. And it was against the nature for a lion to befriend a snake.

If Draco Malfoy was about to be honest with himself he would admit that he could feel the absence of Blaise Zabini and Katia Ivanov. Blaise was his friend since first year of course and it was not a secret that his mind could almost rival Draco, but Ivanov?

Katia was reserved, polite and dangerous. She was so ordinary, but that was before he looked deeper. It's true that her blue eyes were nothing special, but they could almost shine while she was unusually happy and they were cold as ice when she was reserved and her polite smile was forced. It amused him to learn how to read emotions from her face. To a mere observer she was everything she was to him when he first met her. Nothing special.

He still didn't find exceptional beauty in her face which was mostly obscured by her hair. She wasn't a pug face or a square jaw either; just too tall and too plump for a girl perhaps.

But there was something more to her than met the eye.

There were times when he really liked her face, but not in the conventional way. Like when she almost choked Pansy after Charms with Professor Flitwick. He smiled inwardly. She would make amusing facial expressions, probably taking an example from his godfather.

As he sat in the nearly deserted Slytherin common room he felt lonely. He could have gone home and done something, talk with people, spend Christmas with his family, but since his father humiliated Arthur Weasley, he was too busy with the Ministry. He wouldn't have time for Draco right now.

Draco was important as a son, as an heir and he was sure that his father loved him somehow, but in situations like this; Draco was non-existent. Of course he would receive a pile of Christmas gifts because his father like to live in peace with his conscience – if he had one. Or he liked to show that he out of all parents he loved his son the most, buying him things worth twice as much as Arthur Weasley's salary.

He hated Ivanov right now. Even if she avoided the family topics, he was sure, he knew, that she was happy right now, surrounded by the ones who cared for her. Why did he miss her presence then?

The answer was very simple – because he would feel better if he could talk to someone whose intelligence wasn't equal to a flubberworm. And he wouldn't be the only one who receives gifts instead of Christmas with family. And the only one who was competent enough to realize what it meant.

Goyle farted loudly as if to confirm his thoughts about flubberworm.

"You idiot!" hissed Draco and left the common room.

Lucius Malfoy was sitting in the Leaky Cauldron. He needed some time for himself to relax after the latest events. He fulfilled his threat against Arthur Weasley and was quite proud. Nevertheless he couldn't find peace with himself, knowing that the diary could not even reach Harry Potter.

His emotions were conflicted. A part of him wanted the Dark Lord back, to be his loyal and noble servant. To show the world that Malfoys were not to be messed with.

The other side wanted freedom and independence. But what was done couldn't be undone. He slipped the diary into the youngest Weasley's possessions and now he could only wait.

He ordered another drink and waited, growing impatient with every passing minute.

Two drinks later he noticed a pretty, black skinned woman. Her hair was pinned up high and she was wearing a long, crimson wrap with a stand-up collar. She sat herself down by the counter, not far away from his table and ordered a pumpkin juice with vodka. He wasn't sure if she was the one he waited for until she took off her coat. He noticed her womanly curves and the most important – a blood red dahlia tattooed at the base of her neck.

Slowly he approached her and lowered his lips near her ear. He knew that she noticed his presence before he spoke; she straightened her back, though barely noticeable.

"Hello Dahlia, are you waiting for someone?" Being accustomed with this particular House of the Night he knew that the Adepts were identified through their marks.

The black skinned beauty turned her head to him slowly, tickling his chin with her sweet breath. Her full, red lips formed into a welcoming smile.

"It would be my pleasure if you were interested, Mr. Malfoy."

Her perfumes, lowly cut white blouse and whatever she did with herself to look stunning took an effect on him.

"I am, my sweet Dahlia. Particularly in you," he said in a low voice.

She smiled at him and brushed his hand with her finger tips. "Today I am only the intermediary, but I am sure that I can find someone to fulfill your appetite."

He breathed through his nose. Why it was always like that? He wanted this sweet black Dahlia right here and she tells him that she'll find someone else.

He agreed anyway, knowing that he needed to show certain people that his position at the Ministry was rising up and he wanted to show and taste it right now.

"Just choose a girl who was initiated already. I don't want be responsible for traumatizing some innocent young thing."

"You don't have to worry about that, Mr. Malfoy."

Veronica was very glad that she wouldn't be an the object of his ministrations.

Of course her expression betrayed none of her thoughts as she intertwined her fingers with his and Disapparated with him to the Nightfall, her House of the Night.

Argus Filch swallowed another mouthful of Old Ogden's Firewhiskey and turned over an old, muggle photograph. There was a young, rather handsome man and a woman in her early thirties on it. The man had some Filch's features and was leaning towards the petite woman with dark, short hair, as if to kiss her. She was looking at the photographer mischievously, and holding the young man at arm's length, as if to push him away. There was a large bush in the background and it was hard to tell if it was part of a forest or a private garden.

He turned it again. There was a small note, written in pencil.

Adele Johnson – Norris and Argus Filch. Bath, Summer – 1961.

He took another sip, straight from the bottle. When everyone was happy because of the Christmas holidays, he drank himself into oblivion remembering his past. Bringing her back somehow.

He grabbed a violet muffler from the table and sniffed it, closing his eyes. The smell was gone as was its owner, but Filch could remember how it had smelt. It was the sweet smell of jasmine, vanilla and a woman.

"Gone, isn't it?" said a warm voice and a woman, very similar to the one at the picture, took a seat next to him. Argus was silent and sniffed the muffler again.

"Oh please, Argus. Don't tell me that you don't remember my scent by heart. It's pathetic to smell the old rag, knowing that there is nothing there."

He put the muffler down and looked at her sadly.

"My, my Argus, you're completely smashed," she laughed.

"It's because I wanted to see you Adele," he replied with a rasp, drunken voice, "Christmas makes me miss you more than ever."

He felt her putting an arm around him.

"I don't believe a word, Argus. Your drinking is a habit and please, please don't seek such silly excuses."

His eyes were closed as he tried to imagine her smell. He felt a tightening in his chest every time he caught a similar scent. It was like an obsession, destructive, unavoidable, and ever-present. His drunken mind would recreate a strange spectrum of Adele if he indulged it with enough alcohol to numb every nerve ending in his body.

His pain after her death never eased, he just got used to it. He even called a cat Mrs. Norris. It was contrary, because this name reminded him of Adele, but he would never deface her name like that. It was her husband's surname.

The current Mrs. Norris also worried him. Poor thing was petrified and he hoped that everything would be all right, but life taught him that hope was a mother for stupid.

His musings were interrupted by a knocking at his window.

There was a large owl with a package, sitting on the windowsill. He stood up, stumbled, and opened the window.

"Wrong address, birdie," he slurred, but the owl just tilted its head.

"Get the hell out of here you stupid thing!" he shouted, but the stubborn bird was still there. If birds could make facial expression, he could swear that this one could; there would be annoyance.

"Argus," warned his Adele, "the poor thing made a very long journey to drop off your Christmas present. Let him in," she caressed his neck with a feather light touch of her fingertips.

He gave up and opened the window wider, so the bird could fly in. It dropped its package onto his bed and waited patiently until he took off a small note attached to its leg.

Please, feed Danny before you let him go. It will be a long journey for the poor beard.

Katia Ivanov

"Beard?" he snorted. His irritation was gone for a moment and he fed the owl old bread.

"The girl has a horrific accent, which shows even in her writing, but surprisingly good taste," purred Adele to his ear.

When he finally unfolded the package, there was a bottle and another note:

I hope that Bulgarian Moonshine Rakija will keep you company during my absence. Merry Christmas Mr. Filch!

Katia

Oh he would be in good company indeed.

Adele, Rakija and himself.

A/N: The first chapters were focused on Katia to introduce her to you. She will still be present of course, but not as much as before. I can say that the mystery around her is connected to some canon characters, but to which – it's for me to know and for you to find out.

I do not plan to put her in Harry's place in significant events, or in anybody's place.

As J.K. Rowling told the story from Harry's perspective, I'm telling mostly from Katia's, but not only from hers. I gave a little show time to Mr. Filch because he's an interesting minor character.

Oh and do not try to assume that if Katia doesn't like a character, I don't like this character. She's also not me and not like me, so don't be mean in private messages just because you don't agree with her opinions. They're not mine and if it pissed you off- it means that I succeed and Katia turned out to be human – with faults and being annoying sometimes.

Every little thing here has a purpose, and if you stay with me, you may be surprised :)

Thanks to all of you who put my story into Story Alert or in Favorites; I hope that you'll grace me with a review.

Thanks to my reviewers, I can describe how much your opinion helps me with writing! I am really grateful that you wrote your opinion!

Many, many thanks to my precious beta reader- Cat Paws :)