Chapter 20:
Normal Pov
"She's got to be joking. . . ."
Harry woke with a start to find a bulging stocking lying over the end of his bed. He put on his glasses and looked around; the tiny window was almost completely obscured with snow and, in front of it, Ron was sitting bolt upright in bed and examining what appeared to be a thick gold chain.
"What's that?" asked Harry. '
"Its from Lavender," said Ron, sounding revolted. "She can't honestly think I'd wear ..."
Harry looked more closely and let out a shout of laughter, Dangling from the chain in large gold letters were the words:
'My sweetheart'
"Nice," he said. "Classy. You should definitely wear it in front of Fred and George."
"If you tell them," said Ron, shoving the necklace out of sight under his pillow, "I — I — I'll —"
"Stutter at me?" said Harry, grinning. "Come on, would I?"
"How could she think I'd like something like that, though?" Ron demanded of thin air, looking rather shocked.
"Well, think back," said Harry. "Have you ever let it slip that you'd like to go out in public with the words 'My Sweetheart' round your neck?"
"Well... we don't really talk much," said Ron. "It's mainly . . ."
"Snogging," said Harry.
"Well, yeah," said Ron. He hesitated a moment, then said, "Is Hermione really going out with McLaggen?"
"I dunno," said Harry. "They were at Slughorn's party together, but I don't think it went that well."
Ron looked slightly more cheerful as he delved deeper into his stocking.
Harry's presents included a sweater with a large olden Snitch worked onto the front, hand-knitted by Mrs. Weasley, a large box of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products from the twins, and a slightly damp, moldy-smelling package that came with a label reading To Master, From Kreacher,
Harry stared at it. "D'you reckon this is safe to open?" he asked. "Can't be anything dangerous, all our mail's still being searched at the Ministry," replied Ron, though he was eyeing the parcel suspiciously.
"I didn't think of giving Kreacher anything. Do people usually give their house-elves Christmas presents?" asked Harry, prodding the parcel cautiously.
"Hermione would," said Ron. "But let's wait and see what it is before you start feeling guilty."
A moment later, Harry had given a loud yell and leapt out of his camp bed; the package contained a large number of maggots. "Nice," said Ron, roaring with laughter. "Very thoughtful."
"I'd rather have them than that necklace," said Harry, which sobered Ron up at once.
Everybody was wearing new sweaters when they all sat down for Christmas lunch, everyone except Fleur (on whom, it appeared, Mrs. Weasley had not wanted to waste one) and Mrs. Weasley herself, who was sporting a brand-new midnight blue witch's hat glittering with what looked like tiny star like diamonds, and a spectacular golden necklace.
"Fred and George gave them to me! Aren't they beautiful?"
"Well, we find we appreciate you more and more, Mum, now we're washing our own socks," said George, waving an airy hand. "Parsnips, Remus?"
"Juliunna, I want you to know that you did get Christmas Presents." Molly said when Juliunna walked downstairs for the first time today. She was frowning. "Really?" Juliunna asked hopefully.
"Yes. But I don't want you to touch them yet. Your… Father sent them."
"Yay. I bet their expensive. Where are they?"
"I sent them to Dumbledore to make sure their not cursed." Molly said.
"What?!" Juliunna groaned.
"Yes, he's going to-!"
The fireplace grew bright green. Juliunna jumped up. Dumbledore wasn't there. Instead, there was a large, black compost trash bag. She walked over and grabbed the bag.
"Yay!" She squealed. She sat down on Harry's other side and lifted the bag on the table.
"What'd you get?" Ginny asked.
"Let's see." She dumped the bag upside down and multiple boxes fell onto the floor.
"Their not just from Voldemort." Fred said, picking up some of the wrapped boxes and examining the tabs.
"Yeah." Ron said, reaching out to pick one up. "This ones from Bellatrix Lestrange. This ones from Malfoy. This ones from Malfoy's mother. Ooh, this ones from Hagrid."
"Well there were so much presents that it didn't really matter. I just accio'd all of them into the bag." Molly sighed.
"Heh. Oooh." Juliunna cooed, opening Draco's first present. It was a silver, large locket. Inside and outside, there was a bright, liquid diamond substance. Juliunna put it on instantly, and it shone in the light.
"Ooh-!" Ron said, reaching out to touch the smooth surface of the necklace, but Juliunna smacked his hand away.
"Your gonna throw out Bellatrix's present right?" Harry asked. Juliunna nodded absently, digging through the box. She gasped with an air of shocked.
"What?" Mrs. Weasley said as everyone leaned forward. "Nothing." Juliunna said quickly, snatching something out of the box and holding it against her chest, hiding it.
"Nothing-!" She repeated, but Ron leaned forward. He grabbed it out of his hand with a smirk, and she growled at him. "It's none of your business!"
"It's a note about that necklace your wearing. Look, it's so sweet! Its been in his family for generations, and he's giving it to you. Oh, that's pretty cool." Ron cooed sarcastically. Juliunna smacked Ron across the face hard, and Harry jumped and wrapped his arm around her middle. "No! No!"
Fred grabbed Ron by the shoulder and pulled him away from Juliunna, who was trying to claw his face. "No!" Molly screamed. "What is the matter?!"
"Ron read my diary and told the whole Gryffindor House about it!" Juliunna shouted, trying to kick Harry away. "What?!" Molly asked, looking to Ron, who was red faced. "No."
"Yes he did! Hogwarts has been hell for Hermione and me because he keeps insulting us because he doesn't get his way!" Juliunna shouted. Her hair was thrown astray as she stomped on Harry's feet.
"He told everyone about my deepest secrets because I disagreed with why his choices about Hermione! And guess what, Hermione's been shunned because Ron hates how she had an old boyfriend. He's making things tense between Draco and I, and he throws this disgusting dog breathed girl in Mione's face because he's so jealous and a-! (She said a word that made Mrs. Weasley gasp and the twins snicker)!" Juliunna growled at Ron.
"Is this true Ron?" Mrs. Weasley said, turning to Ron. "No!"
"Harry?" Mrs. Weasley said, turning to Harry. Harry nodded once.
Mrs. Weasley raged on for a long half an hour. Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley took turns yelling at Ron, and to Juliunna's excitement, Mrs. Weasley banned Ron from using his using his broomstick here, confiscated all his presents with a promise that he could use them when he got back from summer vacation, and made him make amends with Juliunna.
"You have no idea how things are hard for a girl!" Molly screamed at Ron. Ron lifted his hand out. "Shake please." He smiled grimly. He leaned forward and whispered, "I'm sorry."
She grudgingly shook his hand, squeezing as tight as she could so that Ron started to wince. "Thank you for your apology Ron. Admit that you were wrong."
"What?" He asked.
"Admit. That you. Were wrong." She sounded out loudly, squeezing his hand with every pause. Everyone looked to Ron. "Okay. Okay I was wrong. And I'm sorry for that." He sighed.
"Good. Now say it like you mean it."
"Oh come on-!"
"When we get back to school, you are," She leaned down, refusing to let go of Ron's now pulsing hand, and pressed her lips to his ear. "You are going to tell Draco that what we did was a one time thing and never again." She whispered.
"Eh? Oh, okay." He whimpered.
"And when we get to Hogwarts, your going to apologize to Hermione." She said with a sneer.
"Of course." Ron said quickly.
"Okay then, Merry Christmas." Juliunna said. She let go of Ron's pulsing hand and gave him a quick hug.
At Dinner
"Harry, you've got a maggot in your hair," said Ginny cheerfully, leaning across the table to pick it out; Harry felt goose bumps erupt up his neck that had nothing to do with the maggot.
"'Ow 'orrible," said Fleur, with an affected little shudder.
"Yes, isn't it?" Ron smirked. "Gravy, Fleur?"
In his eagerness to help her, he knocked the gravy boat flying; Bill waved his wand and the gravy soared up in the air and returned meekly to the boat.
"You are as bad as 'zat Tonks," said Fleur to Ron, talking over Juliunna's quiet giggles. "She is always knocking —"
"I invited dear Tonks to come along today," said Mrs. Weasley, setting down the carrots with unnecessary force and glaring at Fleur. "But she wouldn't come. Have you spoken to her lately, Remus?"
"No, I haven't been in contact with anybody very much," said Lupin. "But Tonks has got her own family to go to, hasn't she?"
"Hmmm," said Mrs. Weasley. "Maybe. I got the impression she was planning to spend Christmas alone, actually."
She gave Lupin an annoyed look, as though it was all his fault she was getting Fleur for a daughter-in-law instead of Tonks, but Harry, glancing across at Fleur, who was now feeding Bill bits of turkey off her own fork, thought that Mrs. Weasley was fighting a long-lost battle.
"Arthur!" said Mrs. Weasley suddenly. She had risen from her chair; her hand was pressed over her heart and she was staring out of the kitchen window. "Arthur — it's Percy!"
"What?"
Mr. Weasley looked around. Everybody looked quickly at the window; Ginny stood up for a better look. There, sure enough, was Percy Weasley, striding across the snowy yard, his horn-rimmed glasses glinting in the sunlight. He was not, however, alone.
"Arthur, he's — he's with the Minister!"
And sure enough, the man Harry had seen in the Daily Prophet was following along in Percy's wake, limping slightly, his mane of graying hair and his black cloak flecked with snow. Before any of them could say anything, before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley could do more than exchange stunned looks, the back door opened and there stood Percy.
There was a moment's painful silence. Then Percy said rather stiffly, "Merry Christmas, Mother."
"Oh, Percy!" said Mrs. Weasley, and she threw herself into his arms.
Rufus Scrimgeour paused in the doorway, leaning on his walking stick and smiling as he observed this affecting scene.
"You must forgive this intrusion," he said, when Mrs. Weasley looked around at him, beaming and wiping her eyes. "Percy and I were in the vicinity — working, you know — and he couldn't resist dropping in and seeing you all."
But Percy showed no sign of wanting to greet any of the rest of the family. He stood, poker straight and awkward looking, and stared over everybody else's heads. Mr. Weasley, Fred, and George were all observing him, stony-faced.
"Is this the jerk?" Juliunna whispered to Fred. "Yep." He said, popping his lips.
"Please, come in, sit down, Minister!" fluttered Mrs. Weasley, straightening her hat. Have a little turkey, or some pudding. ... I mean —"
"No, no, my dear Molly," said Scrimgeour. Harry guessed that he had checked her name with Percy before they entered the house. "I don't want to intrude, wouldn't be here at all if Percy hadn't wanted to see you all so badly. . . ."
"Oh, Perce!" said Mrs. Weasley tearfully, reaching up to kiss him.
". , . We've only looked in for five minutes, so I'll have a stroll around the yard while you catch up with Percy. No, no, I assure you I don't want to butt in! Well, if anybody cared to show me your charming garden . . . Ah, that young man's finished, why doesn't he take a stroll with me? Ah, and maybe that girl too-!"
"No thank you." Juliunna said, helping herself to some more potatoes and gravy. "I've got a few thank you letters to write. Oh, by the way Mrs. Weasley, Draco invited me to his house the night before New Years. He said he would see me back on the train. Can I go?" Juliunna smiled hopefully. Mrs. Weasley looked torn.
"Erm… Um… Yes. Harry, show respect to the Minister. And if you want any food Minister, its right here." Molly said. Harry and the Minister walked outside, Harry looking rather grudgingly.
…
Late in the afternoon, a few days after New Year, Harry, Ron, and Ginny lined up beside the kitchen fire to return to Hogwarts. The Ministry had arranged this one-off connection to the Floo Network to return students quickly and safely to the school. Only Mrs. Weasley was there to say good-bye, as Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, Bill, and Fleur were all at work. Mrs. Weasley dissolved into tears at the moment of parting. Admittedly, it took very little to set her off lately; she had been crying on and off ever since Percy had stormed from the house on Christmas Day with his glasses splattered with mashed parsnip (for which Fred, George, and Ginny all claimed credit).
"Don't cry, Mum," said Ginny, patting her on the back as Mrs. Weasley sobbed into her shoulder. "It's okay. ..."
"Yeah, don't worry about us," said Ron, permitting his mother to plant a very wet kiss on his cheek, "or about Percy. He's such a prat, it's not really a loss, is it?"
Mrs. Weasley sobbed harder than ever as she enfolded Harry in her arms.
"Promise me you'll look after yourself.. .. Stay out of trouble. ..."
"I always do, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry. "I like a quiet life, you know me."
She gave a watery chuckle and stood back. "Be good, then, all of you. ..."
Harry stepped into the emerald fire and shouted "Hogwarts!" He had one last fleeting view of the Weasleys' kitchen and Mrs. Weasley's tearful face before the flames engulfed him; spinning very fast, he caught blurred glimpses of other Wizarding rooms, which were whipped out of sight before he could get a proper look; then he was slowing down, finally stopping squarely in the fireplace in Professor McGonagall's office. She barely glanced up from her work as he clambered out over the grate.
"Evening, Potter. Try not to get too much ash on the carpet."
"Ok, Professor."
Harry straightened his glasses and flattened his hair as Ron came spinning into view. When Ginny had arrived, all three of them trooped out of McGonagall's office and off toward Gryffindor Tower. Harry glanced out of the corridor windows as they passed; the sun was already sinking over grounds carpeted in deeper snow than had lain over the Burrow garden. In the distance, he could see Hagrid feeding Buckbeak in front of his cabin.
"Baubles," said Ron confidently, when they reached the Fat Lady, who was looking rather paler than usual and winced at his loud voice.
"No," she said.
"What d'you mean, 'no' ?
"There is a new password," she said. "And please don't shout."
"But we've been away, how're we supposed to — ?"
"Harry! Ginny!"
Hermione and Juliunna were hurrying toward them, very pink-faced and wearing a cloak, hat, and gloves.
"I got back a couple of hours ago, I've just been down to visit Hagrid and Buck — I mean Witherwings," she said breathlessly. "Did you have a good Christmas?"
"Yeah," said Ron at once, "pretty eventful, Rufus Scrim —"
"I've got something for you, Harry," said Hermione, neither looking at Ron nor giving any sign that she had heard him. "Oh, hang on — password. Abstinence."
"Precisely," said the Fat Lady in a feeble voice, and swung forward to reveal the portrait hole.
"What's up with her?" Juliunna asked, stroking the liquid diamond necklace.
"Overindulged over Christmas, apparently," said Hermione, rolling her eyes as she led the way into the packed common room. "She and her friend Violet drank their way through all the wine in that picture of drunk monks down by the Charms corridor. Anyway..."
She rummaged in her pocket for a moment, then pulled out a scroll of parchment with Dumbledore's writing on it.
"Great," said Harry, unrolling it at once to discover that his next lesson with Dumbledore was scheduled for the following night. "I've got loads to tell him — and you. Let's sit down —"
But at that moment there was a loud squeal of "Won-Won!" and Lavender Brown came hurtling out of nowhere and flung herself into Ron's arms. Several onlookers sniggered; Hermione gave a tinkling laugh and said, "There's a cable over here... Coming. Ginny?"
"No, thanks, I said I'd meet Dean," said Ginny, though Harry could not help noticing that she did not sound very enthusiastic. Leaving Ron and Lavender locked in a kind of vertical wrestling, match, Harry led Hermione and Juliunna over to the spare table.
"So how was your Christmas?" They asked Juliunna.
"Mine was fine. But you mean my New Years, actually. It was terrific! I was treated like a princess." Juliunna smirked. "Draco and his mother took me out to his fancy Wizard Ball House in Paris!"
"Paris?" Hermione said.
"Yes. Their rich Hermione, its not that surprising." Juliunna laughed. "So how was your Christmas?" She asked.
"Oh, fine," she shrugged. "Nothing special. How was it at Won-Won's?"
"I'll tell you in a minute," said Harry. "Look, Hermione, can't you —"
"No, I can't," she said flatly. "So don't even ask."
"I thought maybe, you know, over Christmas —"
"It was the Fat Lady who drank a vat of five-hundred-year-old wine, Harry, not me. So what was this important news you wanted to tell me?"
She looked too fierce to argue with at that moment, so Harry dropped the subject of Ron and recounted all that he had overheard between Malfoy and Snape. When he had finished, Hermione and Juliunna sat in thought for a moment and then said, "Don't you think — ?"
"— he was pretending to offer help so that he could trick Malfoy into telling him what he's doing?"
"Well, yes," said Hermione.
"Ron's dad and Lupin think so," Harry said grudgingly. "But this definitely proves Malfoy's planning something, you can't deny that."
"No, I can't," she answered slowly.
"And he's acting on Voldemort's orders, just like I said!"
"Hmm .. . did either of them actually mention Voldemort's name?"
Harry frowned, trying to remember. "I'm not sure ... Snape definitely said 'your master,' and who else would that be?"
"I don't know," said Hermione, biting her lip. "Maybe his father?"
She stared across the room, apparently lost in thought, not even noticing Lavender tickling Ron. "How's Lupin?"
"Wait a minute. Harry, why didn't you mention this to me over break? " Juliunna said, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry… But things were tense and Ron was always hanging with me. Whenever you came in the room and saw him, you just walked back out."
"What about when he apologized?" Juliunna said, crossing her arms.
"I didn't think it was much important." Harry admitted. "I thought I could just tell you when I told Hermione. And honestly, I forgot." He said.
"Yep. Anyway Hermione, you asked how Remus was?"
"Yeah."
"Not great," said Harry, and he told them all about Lupin's mission among the werewolves and the difficulties he was facing. "Have you heard of this Fenir Greyback?"
"Yes, I have!" said Hermione, sounding startled. "And so have you, Harry!"
"When, History of Magic? You know full well I never listened ..."
"No, no, not History of Magic — Malfoy threatened Borgin with him!" Juliunna said, crossing her arms grumpily. "Back in Knockturn Alley during the summer, don't you remember? He told Borgin that Greyback was an old family friend and that he'd be checking up on Borgin's progress!"
Harry gaped at her. "I forgot! But this proves Malfoy s a Death Eater, how else could he be in contact with Greyback and telling him what to do?"
"It is pretty suspicious," breathed Hermione. "Unless . . ."
"Oh, come on," said Harry in exasperation, "you can't get round this one!"
"Well . . . there is the possibility it was an empty threat."
"You're unbelievable, you are," said Harry, shaking his head.
"We'll see who's right. . . . You'll be eating your words, Hermione, just like the Ministry. Oh yeah, I had a row with Rufus Scrimgeour as well. . . ."
And the rest of the evening passed amicably with the three of them abusing the Minister of Magic, for Hermione, like Ron, thought that after all the Ministry had put Harry through the previous year, they had a great deal of nerve asking him for help now.
"But I don't understand." Juliunna said. "It wasn't Scrimgeour's fault that Fudge was bossing everyone around. It wasn't the Ministry who were bullying you, it was Fudge himself. If anyone had said differently, they would have been fired immediately. Do you expect them to risk their jobs to support you? Don't they have families to feed?" Juliunna said.
At that, Harry frowned, wondering if he should write to the Minister and say 'I'm Sorry'.
The new term started next morning with a pleasant surprise for the sixth years: a large sign had been pinned to the common room notice boards overnight.
APPARITION LESSONS
If you are seventeen years of age, or will turn seventeen on or before the 31st August next, you are eligible for a twelve-week course of Apparition Lessons from a Ministry of Magic Apparition instructor. Please sign below if you would like to participate. Cost: 12 Galleons.
Juliunna and Draco signed their names first, and then turned to sit on the couch. "You know what Dray, I think you should take a break from whatever you doing. You don't look so good." She sighed. He laid down and put his head in her lap as she massaged his tired shoulders. "I'm fine." He yawned.
"No your not." She said, and ran a hand through his taught blonde hair. He yawned and relaxed into her warm embrace. "What time did you go to bed last night?"
"Four o'clock."
"Draco, that was four hours ago." Juliunna sighed. "I'm… Busy… It's not going so well." He yawned deeply.
"Huh?" She asked him, leaning forward to look him in the eye. He was half asleep. "I'm trying my best, but its taking a lot of time. I'm so exhausted." He yawned again, snuggling deeper into her lap.
"Is this the job you've been hinting about?" Juliunna asked. Draco didn't seem to recognize her. He was so exhausted, his eyes were dropping into slits. "Yes." He said softly. His head swayed uncertainly as he shifted.
"So its true." She said, looking set at the Common Room board.
He didn't say anything, but instead fell asleep in her arms.
…
The next day Harry confided in both Ron, Juliunna, and Hermione the task that Dumbledore had set him, though separately, for Hermione still refused to remain in Ron's presence longer than it took to give him a contemptuous look.
Ron thought that Harry was unlikely to have any trouble with Slughorn at all.
"He loves you," he said over breakfast, waving an airy forkful of fried egg.
"Won't refuse you anything, will he? Not his little Potions Prince. Just hang back after class this afternoon and ask him."
Hermione, however, took a gloomier view.
"He must be determined to hide what really happened if Dumbledore couldn't get it out of him," she said in a low voice, as they stood in the deserted, snowy courtyard at break. Juliunna agreed with her, but her mind was more set on the Horcruxes. "Horcruxes ... Horcruxes ... I've never even heard of them ..."
"You haven't?"
Harry was disappointed; he had hoped that Hermione and or Jules might have been able to give him a clue as to what Horcruxes were.
"They must be really advanced Dark magic, or why would Voldemort have wanted to know about them? I think it's going to be difficult to get the information, Harry, you'll have to be very careful about how you approach Slughorn, think out a strategy ..." Hermione said, rubbing her chin. Juliunna peeked over Hermione's shoulder at the book she was reading.
"Ron reckons I should just hang back after Potions this afternoon ..."
"Oh, well, if Won-Won thinks that, you'd better do it," she said, flaring up at once. "After all, when has Won-Won's judgment ever been faulty?"
"Hermione, can't you —"
"No!" She said angrily, and stormed away, leaving Harry and Juliunna alone and ankle-deep in snow.
Potions lessons were uncomfortable enough these days, seeing as Harry, Ron and Hermione had to share a desk. Today, Hermione moved her cauldron around the table so that she was close to Ernie, and ignored both Harry and Ron.
"What have you done?" Ron muttered to Harry, looking at Hermione's haughty profile.
But before Harry could answer, Slughorn was calling for silence from the front of the room.
"Settle down, settle down, please! Quickly, now, lots of work to get through this afternoon! Golpalott's Third Law ... who can tell me -? But Miss Granger can, of course!" Juliunna scowled and put her hand down.
Hermione recited at top speed: "Golpalott's-Third-Law- states-that-the-antidote-for-a-blended-poison-will-be-equal-to- more-than-the-sum-of-the-antidotes-for-each-of-the-separate- components."
"Precisely!" beamed Slughorn. "Ten points for Gryffindor! Now, if we accept Golpalott's Third Law as true ..."
Harry was going to have to take Slughorn's word for it that Golpalott's Third Law was true, because he had not understood any of it. Nobody apart from Hermione and Juliunna seemed to be following what Slughorn said next, either.
"... which means, of course, that assuming we have achieved correct identification of the potion's ingredients by Scarpin's Revelaspell, our primary aim is not the relatively simple one of selecting antidotes to those ingredients in a from of themselves, but to find that added component which will, by an almost alchemical process, transform these disparate elements –"
Ron was sitting beside Harry with his mouth half-open, doodling absently on his new copy of Advanced Potion-Making. Ron kept forgetting that he could no longer rely on Hermione to help him out of trouble when he failed to grasp what was going on.
"... and so," finished Slughorn, "I want each of you to come and take one of these phials from my desk. You are to create an antidote for the poison within it before the end of the lesson. Good luck, and don't forget your protective gloves!"
Hermione had left her stool and was halfway towards Siughorn's desk before the rest of the class had realized it was time to move, and by the time Harry, Ron and Ernie returned to the table, she had already tipped the contents of her phial into her cauldron and was kindling a fire underneath it.
"It's a shame that the Prince won't be able to help you much with this, Harry," she said brightly as she straightened up. "You have to understand the principles involved this time. No short cuts or cheats!"
Annoyed, Harry uncorked the poison he had taken from Siughorn's desk, which was a garish shade of pink, tipped it into his cauldron and lit a fire underneath it. He did not have the faintest idea what he was supposed to do next. He glanced at Ron, who was now standing there looking rather gormless, having copied everything Harry had done.
"You sure the Prince hasn't got any tips?" Ron muttered to Harry.
Harry pulled out his trusty copy of Advanced Potion-Making and turned to the chapter on Antidotes. There was Golpalott's Third Law, stated word for word as Hermione had recited it, but not a single illuminating note in the Prince's hand to explain what it meant. Apparently the Prince, like Hermione, had had no difficulty understanding it.
"Nothing," Said Harry gloomily.
Hermione was now waving her wand enthusiastically over her cauldron. Unfortunately, they could not copy the spell she was doing because she was now so good at non-verbal incantations that she did not need to say the words aloud. Harry looked up ahead at Juliunna, who was whispering feverish instructions in Draco's ear. Judging by the way Malfoy scowled at her, the instructions were, 'Do your own work'. She turned back to her potion and waved her wand, and her wand glowed bright red. Like Hermione, she had no need to utter out her spell work aloud anymore.
Ernie Macmillan, however, was muttering, "Specialis revelio!" over his cauldron, which sounded impressive, so Harry and Ron hastened to imitate him.
It took Harry only five minutes to realize that his reputation as the best potion-maker in the class was crashing around his ears. Slughorn had peered hopefully into his cauldron on his first circuit of the dungeon, preparing to exclaim in delight as he usually did, and instead had with-drawn his head hastily, coughing, as the smell of bad eggs overwhelmed him. Hermione's expression could not have been any smugger; she had loathed being out-performed in every Potions class. She was now decanting the mysteriously separated ingredients of her poison into ten different crystal phials. More to avoid watching this irritating sight than any-thing else, Harry bent over the Half-Blood Prince's book and turned a few pages with unnecessary force.
And there it was, scrawled right across a long list of antidotes.
Just shove a bezoar down their throats.
Harry stared at these words for a moment. Hadn't he once, long ago, heard of bezoars? Hadn't Snape mentioned them in their first ever Potions lesson? 'A stone taken from the stomach of a goat, which will protect from most poisons.'
It was not an answer to the Golpalott problem, and had Snape still been their teacher, Harry would not have dared do it, but this was a moment for desperate measures. He hastened towards the store cupboard and rummaged within it, pushing aside unicorn horns and tangles of dried herbs until he found, at the very back, a small card box on which had been scribbled the word 'Bezoars'.
He opened the box just as Slughorn called, "Two minutes left, everyone!"
Inside were half a dozen shriveled brown objects, looking more like dried-up kidneys than real stones. Harry seized one, put the box back in the cupboard and hurried back to his cauldron.
"Time's ... UP!" called Slughorn genially. "Well, let's see how you've done! Blaise, ... what have you got for me?"
Slowly, Slughorn moved around the room, examining the various antidotes. "Nice Miss Riddle. Now, I didn't expect everyone to finish, but you were close, judging by the texture." Slughorn laughed merrily, and when he turned away from her, Harry had caught the look of great disappointment on Juliunna's face. It was a flash. To his shock, he could have almost sworn he saw a glint of red in her eyes, but as quick as it had gone, it disappeared.
Nobody had finished the task, although Hermione was trying to cram a few more ingredients into her bottle before Slughorn reached her. Ron had given up completely, and was merely trying to avoid breathing in the putrid fumes issuing from his cauldron. Harry stood there waiting, the bezoar clutched in a slightly sweaty hand.
Slughorn reached their table last. He sniffed Ernie's potion and passed on to Ron's with a grimace. He did not linger over Ron's cauldron, but backed away swiftly, retching slightly.
"And you, Harry," he said. "What have you got to show me?"
Harry held out his hand, the bezoar sitting on his palm.
Slughorn looked down at it for a full ten seconds. Harry wondered, for a moment, whether he was going to shout at him. Then he threw back his head and roared with laughter.
"You've got a nerve, boy!" He boomed, taking the bezoar and holding it up so that the class could see it. "Oh, you're like your mother ... well, I can't fault you ... a bezoar would certainly act as an antidote to all these potions!"
Hermione, who was sweaty-faced and had soot on her nose, looked livid. Her half-finished antidote, comprising fifty-two ingredients including a chunk of her own hair, bubbled sluggishly behind Slughorn, who had eyes for nobody but Harry.
"And you thought of a bezoar all by yourself, did you, Harry?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"That's the individual spirit a real potion-maker needs!" Said Slughorn happily, before Harry could reply. "Just like his mother, she had the same intuitive grasp of potion-making, it's undoubtedly from Lily he gets it ... yes, Harry, yes, if you've got a bezoar to hand, of course that would do the trick ... although as they don't work on everything, and are pretty rare, it's still worth knowing how to mix antidotes ..."
The only person in the room looking angrier than Hermione was Malfoy, who, Harry was pleased to see, had spilled some-thing that looked like cat sick over himself. Before either of them could express their fury that Harry had come top of the class by not doing any work, however, the bell rang. "
"Time to pack up!" said Slughorn. "And an extra ten points to Gryffindor for sheer cheek!"
"Here you go Dray," Juliunna said, pointing her wand at Draco's chest. The cat sick disappeared, and Draco smiled. "Thanks." He muttered. Juliunna waved at Harry as she and Draco walked out of the class, and he waved back.
Still chuckling, Slughorn waddled back to his desk at the front of the dungeon.
Harry dawdled behind, taking an inordinate amount of time to do up his bag. Neither Ron nor Hermione wished him luck as they left; both looked rather annoyed. At last Harry and Slughorn were the only two left in the room. Time to ask Slughorn about Horcruxes.
…
Neither Ron nor Hermione was at all sympathetic when Harry told them of this disastrous interview Hermione was still seething at the way Harry had triumphed without doing the work properly. Ron was resentful that Harry hadn't slipped him a bezoar, too.
"It would've just looked stupid if we'd both done it!" Said Harry irritably. "Look, I had to try and soften him up so I could ask him about Voldemort, didn't I? Oh, will you get a grip!" He added in exasperation, as Ron winced at the sound of the name.
Infuriated by his failure and by Ron and Hermione's attitudes, Harry brooded for the next few days over what to do next about Slughorn. He decided that, for the time being, he would let Slughorn think that he had forgotten all about Horcruxes; it was surely best to lull him into a false sense of security before returning to the attack.
"Yes Harry, what a great idea." Juliunna told him in the library one day. Harry had to hang out with her, when she wasn't with Malfoy, because Hermione and Ron were both being sullen. He found that this brainiac wasn't as bad as Hermione. At least this one tried to make you happy.
When Harry did not question Slughorn again, the Potions master reverted to his usual affectionate treatment of him, and appeared to have put the matter from his mind. Harry awaited an invitation to one of his little evening parties, determined to accept this time, even if he had to reschedule Quidditch practice. Unfortunately, however, no such invitation arrived. Harry checked with Hermione, Juliunna, and Ginny: neither of them had received an invitation and nor, as far as they knew, had anybody else. Harry could not help wondering whether this meant that Slughorn was not quite as forgetful as he appeared, simply determined to give Harry no additional opportunities to question him.
Meanwhile, the Hogwarts library had failed Hermione for the first lime in living memory. She was so shocked, she even forgot that she was annoyed at Harry for his trick with the bezoar.
"I haven't found one single explanation of what Horcruxes do!" she told him. "Not a single one! I've been right through the restricted section and even in the most horrible books, where they tell you how to brew the most gruesome potions -nothing! All I could find was this, in the introduction to Magick Most Evil — listen — 'of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction'... I mean, why mention it, then?" She said impatiently, slamming the old book shut; it let out a ghostly wail. "Oh, shut up," she snapped, stuffing it back into her bag.
"Harry," Juliunna told him one day. "How about I just owl my father? He'd probably tell me-!"
"Dumbledore said it would be crucially dangerous if Voldemort knew we were searching Horcruxes." Harry whispered to her urgently. She nodded. "Of course. Dumbledore said it," She muttered, but Harry just pushed another book her way.
…
The snow melted around the school as February arrived, to be replaced by cold, dreary wetness. Purplish-grey clouds hung low over the castle and a constant fall of chilly rain made the lawns slippery and muddy.
The upshot of this was that the sixth-years' first Apparition lesson, which was scheduled for a Saturday morning, so that no normal lessons would be missed, took place in the Great Hall instead of in the grounds.
When Harry and Hermione arrived in the Hall (Ron had come down with Lavender, and Juliunna with Draco) they found that the tables had disappeared. Rain lashed against the high windows and the enchanted ceiling swirled darkly above them as they assembled in front of Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick and Sprout, (the Heads of House),and a small wizard whom Harry took to be the Apparition Instructor from the Ministry. He was oddly colorless, with transparent eyelashes, wispy hair and an insubstantial air, as though a single gust of wind might blow him away. Harry wondered whether constant disappearances and reappearances had somehow diminished his substance, or whether this frail build was ideal for anyone wishing to vanish.
"Good morning," Said the Ministry wizard, when all the students had arrived and the Heads of House had called for quiet. "My name is Wilkie Twycross and I shall be your Ministry-Apparition Instructor for the next twelve weeks. I hope to be able to prepare you for your Apparition test in this time -!"
"Malfoy, be quiet and pay attention!" barked Professor McGonagall.
Everybody looked round. Malfoy had flushed a dull pink; he looked furious as he stepped away from Crabbe, with whom he appeared to have been having a whispered argument. Harry glanced quickly at Snape, who also looked annoyed, though Harry strongly suspected that this was less because of Malfoy's rudeness than the fact that McGonagall had reprimanded one of his house.
"By which time, many of you may be ready to take your test," Twycross continued, as though there had been no interruption.
"As you may know, it is usually impossible to Apparate or Disapparate within Hogwarts. The Headmaster has lifted this enchantment, purely within the Great Hall, for one hour, so as to enable you to practice. May I emphasize that you will not be able to Apparate outside the walls of this Hall, and that you would be unwise to try."
"I would like each of you to place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you."
There was a great scrambling and jostling as people separated, banged into each other, and ordered others out of their space. The Heads of House moved among the students, marshalling them into position and breaking up arguments.
"Harry, where are you going?" Demanded Hermione.
But Harry did not answer; he was moving quickly through the crowd, past the place where Professor Flitwick was making squeaky attempts to position a few Ravenclaws, all of whom wanted to be near the front, past Professor Sprout, who was chivvying the Hufflepuffs into line, until, by dodging around Ernie Macmillan, he managed to position himself right at the back of the crowd, directly behind Malfoy, who was taking advantage of the general upheaval to continue his argument with Crabbe, standing five feet away and looking mutinous. On the other side of Malfoy was Juliunna looking curious, and at the same time trying not to listen.
"I don't know how much longer, all right?" Malfoy shot at him, oblivious to Harry standing right behind him. "It's taking longer than I thought it would."
Crabbe opened his mouth, but Malfoy appeared to second-guess what he was going to say.
"Look, it's none of your business what I'm doing, Crabbe, you and Goyle just do as you're told and keep a lookout!"
"! tell my friends what I'm up to, if I want them to keep a lookout for me," Harry said, just loud enough for Malfoy to hear him.
Malfoy spun round on the spot, his hand flying to his wand, but at that precise moment the four Heads of House shouted, "Quiet!" And silence fell again. Malfoy turned slowly to face the front.
"Thank you," Said Twycross. "Now then ..."
He waved his wand. Old-fashioned wooden hoops instantly appeared on the floor in from of every student.
The important things to remember when Apparating are the three Ds!' said Twycross. 'Destination, Determination, Deliberation!
"Step one: fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination," said Twycross. "In this case, the interior of your hoop. Kindly concentrate upon that destination now."
Everybody looked around furtively, to check that everyone else was staring into their hoop, then hastily did as they were told. Harry gazed at the circular patch of dusty floor enclosed by his hoop and tried hard to think of nothing else. This proved impossible, as he couldn't stop puzzling over what Malfoy was doing that needed lookouts.
"Step two," said Twycross, "Focus your determination to occupy the visualized space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body!"
Harry glanced around surreptitiously. A little way to his left, Ernie Macmillan was contemplating his hoop so hard that his face had turned pink; it looked as though he was straining to lay a Quaffle sized egg. Harry bit back a laugh and hastily returned his gaze to his own hoop.
"Step three," called Twycross, "And only when I give the command ... turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation. On my command, now ... one-!"
Harry glanced around again; lots of people were looking positively alarmed at being asked to Apparate so quickly.
Harry tried to fix his thoughts on his hoop again; he had already forgotten what the three D's stood for.
"THREE!"
Harry spun on the spot, lost his balance and nearly fell over. He was not the only one. The whole Hall was suddenly full of staggering people; Neville was flat on his back; Ernie Macmillan, on the other hand, had done a kind of pirouetting leap into his hoop and looked momentarily thrilled, until he caught sight of Dean Thomas roaring with laughter at him.
"Never mind, never mind," said Twycross dryly, who did not seem to have expected anything better. "Adjust your hoops, please, and back to your original positions ..."
Juliunna seemed to be furious at the fact that she hadn't gotten it right the first time, and when she met Harry's eyes, he saw the same glint of red that he was sure he had seen in Lord Voldemort's eyes.
The second attempt was no better than the first. The third was just as bad. Not until the fourth did anything exciting happen. There was a horrible screech of pain and everybody looked around, terrified, to see Susan Bones of Hufflepuff wobbling in her hoop with her left leg still standing five feet away where she had started.
The Heads of House converged on her; there was a great bang and a puff of purple smoke, which cleared to reveal Susan sobbing, reunited with her leg but looking horrified.
"Splinching, or the separation of random body parts," said Wilkie Twycross dispassionately, "Occurs when the mind is insufficiently determined. You must concentrate continually upon your destination, and move, without haste, but with deliberation ... thus."
Twycross stepped forwards, turned gracefully on the spot with his arms outstretched and vanished in a swirl of robes, reappearing at the back of the Hall. "Remember the three Ds," he said, "And try again ... one -two - three !"
But an hour later, Susan's Splinching was still the most interesting thing that had happened. Twycross did not seem discouraged. Fastening his cloak at his neck, he merely said, "Until next Saturday, everybody, and do not forget: Destination. Determination. Deliberation."
With that, he waved his wand, Vanishing the hoops, and walked out of the Hall accompanied by Professor McGonagall. Talk broke out at once as people began moving towards the Entrance Hall.
"How did you do?" Asked Ron, hurrying towards "Harry. I think I felt something the last time I tried - a kind of tingling in my feet."
"I expect your trainers are too small, Won-Won," said a voice behind them, and Hermione stalked past, smirking.
"I didn't feel anything," Said Harry, ignoring this interruption. "But I don't care about that now-!"
"What d'you mean, you don't care ... don't you want to learn to Apparate?" Said Ron incredulously.
"I'm not fussed, really. I prefer flying," said Harry, glancing over his shoulder to see where Malfoy was, and speeding up as they came into the Entrance Hall. "Look, hurry up, will you, there's something I want to do ..."
Perplexed, Ron followed Harry back to Gryffindor Tower at a run. They were temporarily detained by Peeves, who had jammed a door on the fourth floor shut and was refusing to let anyone pass until they set fire to their own pants, but Harry and Ron simply turned back and took one of their trusted short cuts. Within five minutes, they were climbing through the portrait hole.
"Are you going to tell me what we're doing, then?" asked Ron, panting slightly.
"Up here," said Harry, and he crossed the common room and led the way through the door to the boys' staircase.
Their dormitory was, as Ham' had hoped, empty. He flung open his trunk and began to rummage in it, while Ron watched impatiently.
"Harry ..."
"Malfoy's using Crabbe and Goyle as lookouts. He was arguing with Crabbe just now. I want to know ... aha."
He had found it, a folded square of apparently blank parchment, which he now smoothed out and tapped it with the tip of his wand.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good ... or Malfoy is."
At once, the Marauder's Map appeared on the parchment's surface. Here was a detailed plan of every one of the castle's floors and, moving around it, the tiny, labeled black dots that signified each of the castle's occupants.
"Help me find Malfoy," said Harry urgently.
He laid the map upon his bed and he and Ron leaned over it, searching.
"There!" said Ron, after a minute or so. "He's in the Slytherin common room, look ... with Juliunna and Zabini and Crabbe and Goyle ..."
Harry looked down at the map, disappointed, but rallied almost at once.
'Well, I'm keeping an eye on him from now on,' he said firmly. "And the moment I see him lurking somewhere with Crabbe and Goyle keeping watch outside, it'll be on with the old Invisibility Cloak and off to find out what he's-!"
He broke off as Neville entered the dormitory, bringing with him a strong smell of singed material, and began rummaging in his trunk for a fresh pair of pants.
Despite his determination to catch Malfoy out, Harry had no luck at all over the next couple of weeks. Although he consulted the map as often as he could, sometimes making unnecessary visits to the bathroom between lessons to search it, he did not once see Malfoy anywhere suspicious. Admittedly, he spotted Crabbe and Goyle moving around the castle on their own more often than usual, sometimes remaining stationary in deserted corridors, but at these times Malfoy was not only nowhere near them, but impossible to locate on the map at all. This was most mysterious. Harry toyed with the possibility that Malfoy was actually leaving the school grounds, but could not see how he could be doing it, given the very high level of security now operating within the castle. He could only suppose that he was missing Malfoy amongst the hundreds of tiny black dots upon the map. As for the fact that Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle appeared to be going their different ways when they were usually inseparable, these things happened as people got older.
Ron and Hermione, Harry reflected sadly, were living proof.