Chapter 6: The Cure For Boils
Author's Note:
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters do not belong to me
The rest of the week passed in a similar fashion, with Harry easily completing both his and Miss Hermione's homework. On Thursday, a notice appeared on the Common Room board about flying lessons, sending most of the first-years into chaos. Weasley, especially, seemed to enjoy it, telling anyone nearby the most outlandish tales.
Harry was just glad he didn't have to join in. All he needed to do, was keep a low profile, pass, and never fly again! Oh, how he hoped Master didn't find out about this...
That night, Weasley and Thomas had a huge argument in the dorm about football, with Weasley trying to involve Harry. Harry hated it. He still hadn't managed to find out why Weasley kept trying to involve him in things, or sit next to him. It didn't help that Miss Hermione was getting annoyed at it, either. And then there were Weasley's attempts to prevent Harry's work. Really, he needed to stop!
Sadly, Harry had managed to find out why everyone tended to stare at him. It also explained how he'd become a Pet – not that he'd spent all that much time really thinking about it. His parents had been killed during the last Wizarding War, and he'd survived. Apparently, this was enough to class him as a 'hero', despite no-one knowing what had happened that night.
He sighed. Time to go, or Miss Hermione'd get annoyed. He'd done pretty well, avoiding punishment so far. Of course, Master'd given him a...reminder...before sending him off. It still hurt to move, but Harry'd learnt years ago to hide the fact. It only led to further punishments, otherwise.
Miss Hermione was already waiting for him, glare hidden behind her charms book. Harry winced internally. Not good. She'd been complaining about her dorm-mates, apparently all they did was gossip and talk about boys and fashion.
Upon spotting him, the book was slipped into her bag, and Harry was scrambling out the Portrait, attempting to catch up. He needed to hand over last night's homework, after all.
Breakfast was spent re-reading his herbology book, to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Then, it was down to the greenhouses, to sift soil and combine fertiliser, Professor Sprout not trusting them with her precious plants just yet.
Upon reaching Charms, they were excited to find sticks laid out on the desks. Professor Flitwick then had them practicing wand movements with the stick for the rest of the lesson.
It was during lunch he received his first punishment. Apparently, he hadn't put enough effort into Miss Hermione's charms homework. As such, he wouldn't be allowed any lunch, and possibly no dinner, either. It wasn't the worst punishment – not by a long shot – but then, Miss Hermione was just beginning. Punishments always started with loss of food.
After lunch, it was down to the dungeons for double-potions. The first part of the lesson was spent taking notes while Professor Snape lectured on the Cure for Boils potion. Turns out, if the potion wasn't brewed correctly, it gave the user boils, instead of curing them.
Lecture over, Professor Snape flicked his want at the board causing a set of instructions to appear.
"You will find all the required ingredients in the cupboard. Do Not start brewing until I have cleared your set-up." he ordered.
Almost instantly, it seemed, half the class rushed to the cupboard, leaving Harry to watch in hidden amusement. How old were his classmates, again? Weasley seemed to be using the cupboard as an excuse to attack.
Deciding to ignore the idiots, Harry double-checked the ingredient list. It wouldn't do to forget something. Not to mention, he needed double – one set for him, and one for Miss Hermione. He could already imagine the punishment for missing one...
6 Snake Fangs
10 Pungous Onions
4 measures of Dried Nettles
Flobberworm Mucus
Ginger Root – 1cm cubed
5 Pickled Shrake Spines
4 Horned Slugs
2 Porcupine Quills
Harry winced. That was a lot of ingredients for a single trip. Miss Hermione was already glaring at him. Nodding, he set off. Thankfully, the crowd had thinned considerably.
The cupboard was helpfully laid out, with dried ingredients at the top, and liquids at the bottom. Quickly gathering the assigned items, Harry scurried back to his desk.
He barely had time to separate and organise his ingredients before Professor Snape arrived. To Miss Hermione's horror, she had to redo her entire desk, while Harry was cleared to begin instantly.
The first thing Harry did, was double-check the instructions – both on the board and in the book. He didn't want to add boils to his various problems, thanks.
Carefully adding the snake fangs to the mortar, Harry set about crushing them. The book said they needed to become a 'coarse powder'. Then, it was over to the sink for two buckets of water. After pouring the water into his cauldron, Harry lit the fire underneath, to bring it to a rolling boil.
While waiting for the water to boil, the pungous onions needed slicing. Which led to an issue. The book said coarse, but the board said fine – which was it? Harry didn't think the Professor would appreciate him asking, as this was obviously a test. In the end, he went with the board, and his cooking experience.
Harry had to pause his slicing when the water started boiling to add four measures of the crushed snake fangs and stir them in. Then, he hurried to finish slicing, as the onions had to be added once the fangs had dissolved, followed closely by the dried nettles and dash of flobberworm mucus. According to the book, the potion then needed vigorous stirring for five minutes, to prevent burning due to the mucus' thickening properties.
By the time he'd finished sprinkling the powdered ginger and returned to stirring, Miss Hermione had set off for water, glaring at him as she went. How she expected him to fetch water for her, Harry wasn't sure. Not that he had much time to think on it, shrake spines were sharp all over, even after pickling them.
Quickly adjusting the fire down so the potion was just barely simmering, Harry then spent ten minutes gently stirring to break down the spines, before adding the horned slugs, supposedly to stabilise the shrake spines? He really needed to read up on the ingredient interactions. After all, potions was like a mixture of cooking (which he was rather good at) and chemistry (which he wasn't so good at).
Taking a deep breath, Harry began to remove the cauldron from the fire. Only to be startled by an explosion across the classroom, followed by billows of acid green smoke and the hissing of hot metal. It turned out the Finnigan had somehow exploded his cauldron, and Longbottom had melted his, coating everyone nearby, and sending everyone else up onto their stools to avoid the hot liquid.
"Idiots!" Professor Snape snarled, waving his wand to vanish the mess. "Finnigan, the instructions clearly state to decrease heat and stir gently after adding the shrake spines – do you need lessons on how to read? As for you, Longbottom, what happened to taking the cauldron off the fire before adding the porcupine quills?"
When the answer he received was only a whimper from both boys, the Professor sighed.
"Brown, Patil, take them to the hospital wing. Weasley! Ten points from Gryffindor. I suppose you thought it would make you look smarter, letting them destruct like that?"
Weasley stared in horror.
"No, sir." he stammered.
The Professor's eyes narrowed.
"I see. If you got splashed, come up front. Otherwise, continue."
Miss Hermione groaned, poking the congealed mixture in her cauldron.
"I'm going to kill Weasley." she muttered, before raising her hand, only to be ignored as the Professor was busy sorting out Longbottom and Finnigan's victims.
Adding his quills, Harry stirred clockwise five times, before bottling a sample.
Once finished administering antidote to the students, Professor Snape cast an eye over the class, ignoring Miss Hermione's hand.
"Homework will be an essay on porcupine quills, if someone will inform the idiots. Three feet. Bottle a sample of your potion and place it on my desk, labelled with your name, before you leave. For this term, at least, it doesn't matter if you haven't finished brewing. Potter, stay behind." he instructed.