A/N: Happy late Valentine's Day lol!

Disclaimer: I don't own this (and I also do not support JKR).


The dormitories in the Ravenclaw Tower were separated by surname. While this meant Charlotte Guidry was in the same five-bed room as Lucy Fernandez, Elena Potter was stuck with Lisa Turpin.

Although most of their suitemates seemed to expect a confrontation of some sort, giving Elena and Lisa the occasional concerned glance, both Elena and Lisa ignored each other. Elena just listened to the other girls discussing their holidays as she rummaged through her trunk and tried to organize both her school bag and her uniform for the following morning. She half-expected some questions about how she was doing, but—either everyone had already forgotten last term or they'd all decided to pretend it hadn't happened.

The next morning was as chaotic as the previous. Elena managed to snag one of the porcelain sinks in the ensuite bathroom and applied eyeliner as quickly as possible before she braided her hair back—she tugged out a few strategic strands to frame her round face—and left for the common room. On the way she grabbed her tote bag from her duvet.

She met Lucy and Charlotte down in the large, circular common room, which was filled with plush navy armchairs and couches and lacquered turn-of-the-century furniture and lined with overflowing bookcases that reached almost as high as the beamed ceiling. Lucy seemed to be in as a good cheer as ever, and Charlotte's mood was much improved from the day before. The three headed down to the Great Hall together.

"Aren't we going to be allowed a lot of free periods this year?" asked Lucy as they took their usual seats at the thick wooden Ravenclaw table. The magical ceiling overhead swirled with a powdery blue sky and when Elena looked around, there were already a couple of Heads of House walking up and down their designated tables, passing out timetables.

"Yeah, but we'll need them to study," said Charlotte as she tossed her hair back and tapped her goblet with her wand. It filled with what must have been orange juice. The goblets were all enchanted to fill with whatever anyone requested, aside from alcohol. "I know I will, at least. Transfiguration is gonna kick my ass."

"You'll be fine," said Lucy dismissively. "You're the smartest one here."

Charlotte turned pink and grinned.

Their timetables this year would be sorted out based on the OWL exams they'd all passed last term. Shortly into breakfast, when Elena had gone through a few strips of bacon and was fidgeting a little nervously, Professor Flitwick—the Head of Ravenclaw House—wandered up the table, talking with the students about their timetables. Most of the Ravenclaws seemed to know exactly what they wanted to take. Other Heads of House took longer—in particular, Elena noticed, Professor Sprout over at the Hufflepuff table. She was the chattiest professor.

When Flitwick reached Elena, Charlotte, and Lucy, he focused on Charlotte first. "Ah yes, Miss Guidry," he said. She straightened up, the picture of academic perfection with her pressed oxford, tucked-in plaid tie, and pastel blue vest, her silver Prefect badge pinned on. "You're clear to take whatever you want. I suppose you have a plan in mind?"

"Yes sir," chirped Charlotte. She'd gotten all Os (Outstanding) and one E (Exceeds Expectations) on her OWLs. When her timetable was sorted, she thanked Professor Flitwick and left to prepare for Transfiguration, which she'd have the following period.

Flitwick moved on to Lucy next, who was a little messier than Charlotte—crossover tie turned to the side, cardigan just thrown over one shoulder—but in an endearing way. She was cleared to continue with History of Magic, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Divination, and Muggle Studies. After she chose her electives, she left for a first period History of Magic class.

"At last, Miss Potter," said Flitwick when Lucy had left. He was remarkably short and pale with a kindly face, and when he beamed at Elena, she couldn't resist smiling back. "You'll be able to continue with Herbology, Potions, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Defense Against the Dark Arts." He perused the top piece of parchment he was holding in a stack. "I'm afraid I can't clear you for Transfiguration or Charms—"

Elena shook her head. "That's fine, Professor." She'd performed atrociously on those OWLs, because they were the only ones she'd had left to take after the Daphne Thing. She barely even remembered taking either of them, just how suffocating the Great Hall—where students took their OWLs—had felt. She'd been loosening her tie throughout the exams and focusing on breathing instead of any questions on magical theory, and the practical portions of the exams had been even worse. Magic tended not to comply unless there was at least a hint of concentration involved. "I'm happy to continue with those."

"Good," said Flitwick with a nod. "And I assume you know which electives you want to take?"

"Yes," said Elena at once. "Political Science, Wizarding Literature of the 19th Century, Economics I, and French."

"You'll have one packed timetable," observed Flitwick. He frowned down at his stack of parchment before he looked back at Elena. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to remove one of those core classes? I know you're interested in apothecary sciences—I doubt you'd need Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Elena shrugged. Her mother had always lauded that class. "I could drop an elective."

"You may want to," said Flitwick. "How about Economics?"

Elena agreed, and after Flitwick withdrew a piece of parchment from his stack, set it on the table, and tapped it with his wand to make her adjusted timetable appear, he said conversationally, "I must confess, I do have something of an ulterior motive. As a sixth year, and with your marks, you're qualified to tutor for Potions and Herbology. Would you be interested? You would, of course, set your own hours."

Elena grinned at him. She'd been looking forward to being able to tutor since fourth year, when the now graduated Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory had single-handedly gotten her through Transfiguration. "Yeah, that would be great!"

"Perfect!" said Flitwick. He glanced briefly at her timetable. "Now, remember you have all week to drop any classes you'd like, but your timetable will be set in stone for all intents and purposes next week." He smiled. "Find me between or after your classes tomorrow and we can discuss tutoring."

"Will do," said Elena, and he moved on to Sue Li, a few seats down. Elena plucked up her timetable to skim it. He's right, she thought. This is packed. She could already feel the schoolwork-heavy year stretching out ahead of her, and for a second she couldn't do more than study the parchment, listening to the clink of silverware and low murmur of sleepy students, any of whom could have been looking at her and thinking about the Daphne Thing.

Elena, though her face already felt hot, drew in a breath and set her shoulders. Let's do this, she thought, and she grabbed her tote bag and left the Great Hall. At least Lucy would be in her first period.

After a quick stop in the Ravenclaw Tower, Elena headed to Professor Binns' History of Magic classroom. When she reached it and turned in, she found the worn two-seater tables barely occupied with a few Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. She spotted Lucy at one of the tables at the front of the classroom, not far from the arched windows and a few of the dusty bookcases.

Elena strolled up to claim the open chair beside her. "Oh, hey!" said Lucy, glancing up as Elena sat down. She'd added a sparkly pale blue barrette to her hair, pinning some of her braids back from her face. "What's the rest of your timetable like?" Without waiting for an answer she whipped hers out and slid it toward Elena. "Here, let's swap."

As it turned out the pair had History of Magic together that morning and Potions together that afternoon. Otherwise none of their classes lined up. "Damn," observed Lucy. She swatted Elena's arm. "You should've taken Divination or Muggle Studies."

Divination had always sounded interesting, but Elena had opted for Ancient Runes instead. "You should've taken French," Elena returned. Lucy rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "I can't imagine what Charlotte's timetable looks like."

Lucy snorted. "I don't think I want to."

The conversation might have continued, but Professor Binns, their ghost professor, floated in through the closed door to his office. Elena and Lucy faced forward, and Elena steeled herself. Although Lucy was fascinated by the subject, and although they had a ghost for a professor, Elena had never been able to pay the greatest attention during this class. She resolved to do her best by forcing herself to take more notes than usual this year.

After History of Magic, Elena parted ways with Lucy in the hall to go to her Ancient Runes class. Upon arrival at Professor Babbling's room, across the castle from Binns', Elena spotted Michael Corner sitting alone at a polished two-seater table. She checked to ensure Charlotte wasn't in this class before she walked over to Michael's chosen table. "Hi," said Elena.

Michael glanced up from the textbook, which he'd been flipping through, and gave her a lazy grin. He was cute, tan with slightly too long dark hair and dark brown eyes. Elena had kind of had a crush on him for years, but he was rarely single. He'd gone out with Fay Duran, a Gryffindor Lucy knew, for a while the previous year, and had later started dating Oliver Rivers, the Hufflepuff. As far as Elena was aware they were still together.

"Hey!" Michael said to her. He gestured to the empty chair beside him and leaned back. "Have a seat."

"Thanks," said Elena. She took the indicated chair and set her tote bag down beside the table leg. When she'd dug out her designated poppy-patterned Ancient Runes notebook and her own textbook, she straightened up and asked Michael, "How old are you?"

"Oh, age is just a number, if you know what I mean," said Michael with an exaggerated wink.

Elena snorted. "Are you going to try for the Triwizard Tournament?"

Michael brightened. "Of course I am!" He tossed his hair back majestically. The effect was enhanced by the sunlight arcing through a nearby window. "Look at me. I deserve to own thousands of Galleons and gold trophies."

That made Elena laugh. "Oh, really? According to who?"

"Everyone, obviously."

The pair talked for a couple more minutes, until Professor Babbling swept in from the hall to start class. It was quite a different start from History of Magic in that while Binns had charged into new material, Babbling elected to start with a quiz reviewing what they'd learned last year. At the end of the period, she assigned them a dreadful amount of homework.

Elena had a break following Ancient Runes, during which she tried to start her homework in one of the cool and breezy outdoor courtyards despite the third years there playing Exploding Snap, and she had lunch after that. She left the Great Hall with Charlotte to walk to Arithmancy together.

"I'm going to drop all of my electives," Charlotte declared as they strolled down the wide hall toward Professor Vector's classroom. There were only a few other students on the corridor. Elena spotted Oliver Rivers and they nodded at each other. "There's no way in hell I'll be able to finish any of this homework on time."

Elena shrugged. "You've got all week to decide."

Terry Boot, the third of Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner's trio, was in Arithmancy as well. Elena made eye contact with him as she and Charlotte wandered in and they exchanged polite waves. As Charlotte selected a two-seater table and they slid out the chairs to sit down, Elena realized she'd glimpsed Terry in passing in History of Magic that morning, too. She vaguely wondered what his timetable looked like as she dug her sunflower-patterned Arithmancy notebook out of her tote bag.

Vector assigned more homework, but he was kind enough to allow them to start in class. When the bell echoed throughout the castle, Elena and Charlotte were two of the first students out the door, escaping into the high-ceilinged hall. Elena was still shoving her textbook into her tote bag as she kept up with Charlotte. "This is miserable," Charlotte moped. They turned to approach the enormous, open center of the castle, where all the stairways were. "I'm not even good at Arithmancy."

"What do you need it for?" Elena asked. They slowed to join the burgeoning queue of students waiting on the landing above a stairway. It was missing at the moment—every flight had a mind of its own and swung wherever it desired. The sound of flagstone scraping against flagstone was constant in the center of the castle as the stairways all roamed at their leisure. It could get quite irritating, especially if a student was already late for class.

Charlotte sighed. "Flitwick recommended that I take it. You know that Healer program I want to get into, in Ireland?" Elena nodded, furrowing her eyebrows. "They require a NEWT in Arithmancy."

"Ouch," said Elena. She patted Charlotte's shoulder. "That's rough."

"Don't I know it," remarked Charlotte.

When their stairs arrived, the two took them—and then a couple of other flights—down to the entrance hall. "I've got a break," said Charlotte as they descended the grand marble staircase. It was the only one that never moved. "I'll see you at dinner, yeah?"

"Yep!" confirmed Elena. Charlotte changed direction to walk toward the double-doors outside—from the sunshine that had been brightening the classrooms all day it must have been nice out—while Elena took the door to the left of the sweeping marble staircase, on the ground floor.

Through the door was the first long, low-ceilinged stone passage of the dungeons. It was darker and cooler than everywhere else in the castle, even though the most torches lined the walls down there, flickering over the roughhewn stone and the occasional strain of mysterious moss climbing the walls. Elena drew in a breath—there was an almost ferrous tang to the air, as well as a damp lichen one, and she half-grinned to herself. She'd missed her Potions class all summer. Practicing wasn't nearly as fun alone.

She rounded one corner and heard her name from somewhere behind her. Elena stopped and stepped back to find Lucy and Terry Boot approaching together. "Hey, Elena!" called Lucy with a bright smile and a wave.

"Hi!" Elena answered. She waited for both Lucy and Terry to catch up before turning to match their pace, walking with them through the maze of stone corridors to Professor Slughorn's classroom. It would be the first time Elena had him—he only taught the NEWT classes in sixth and seventh year. "Terry, weren't you just in Arithmancy?"

"Yep," said Terry. He adjusted the strap of his messenger bag, though it didn't do much—he was always a disaster, pale with a head of unruly brown curls, his oxford half-heartedly buttoned and his blue plaid tie already close to undone. "That homework is gonna be awful."

"Wait, aren't you good at Arithmancy?" asked Lucy. When Terry shrugged modestly, she nodded toward Elena. "You're going to have to help both her and Charlotte. They're terrible."

Elena laughed. "She's not wrong." She glanced ahead as they took another turn onto a draftier corridor than before. She thought she could hear the low echo of other students' voices somewhere in the maze of halls. "Are you two happy we don't have Snape anymore?"

Professor Snape taught almost all the Potions classes up until sixth year. "Ecstatic," said Terry with what seemed to be sincerity.

"I don't know, I was fond of him by the end," said Lucy. At both Elena and Terry's curious glances she explained, "At least he was interesting."

That was certainly true. Elena had never known what to make of Snape. She'd seen him and Harry verbally spar with each other many times, and each argument was more than immature and unprofessional.

Of course, however, Elena had no personal problem with him. Throughout last term, when Potions had been increasingly difficult approaching OWLs, she and Daphne Greengrass had visited Snape's classroom to practice on weekends. He'd ignored them for the most part, but sometimes, if he emerged from his office to find a potion ingredient or a book from his shelves, he'd paused to give them helpful if sarcastic advice in passing. He certainly knew what he was talking about.

The three took another right—and up ahead walked Anthony Goldstein and Lisa Turpin. Terry excused himself to catch up with Anthony and Lisa. Elena and Lucy looked at each other and slowed down to put more distance between them and the other three. "Are you going to try for the Slug Club?" Lucy asked Elena.

Elena lifted her shoulders. "I probably should." Professor Slughorn's club was for the best students or whoever else he took a liking to, and through it they were able to network with the various high-ranking or wealthy individuals Slughorn knew. Having a place there could get her foot in the door with a variety of apothecaries or even specialized programs. "What about you?"

Lucy waved her hand, easygoing. "Whatever."

It was only a minute before they reached Professor Slughorn's classroom—and one step in the door, each halted, bewildered. Elena had expected a low-ceilinged room that resembled Professor Snape's, with roots climbing the old shelves cluttered with jars, moss on the stone walls, and drying plants hung here and there. Rather they'd entered a room swirling with candy-colored mist—some blue, some pale pink—and brightly lit with a variety of torches. The light flickered off the various distillation retorts and beakers set up everywhere and there was enough to look at that at first Elena didn't even notice any bookcases on the walls.

"What the hell is that?" Lucy said aloud.

Elena tried to find the source of the mist and realized it had to have been coming from two of the cauldrons set up on a long counter at the front of the classroom, opposite the door. She noticed there was a third emitting a vaguely threatening greenish brown, but not quite enough to overpower the other two. "Uh," she said, "I think one of them is Amortentia."

"The love potion?" said Lucy. At Elena's nod of confirmation, Lucy frowned. "Why is that up there? Ugh, never mind. Where are we sitting?"

Elena had to survey the situation. The tables were evenly spaced out, empty cauldrons standing before each, and they were arranged in squares, with a table around each of four cauldrons. Anthony, Terry, and Lisa had claimed a set of four tables near the counter at the front. Elena's brother, with whom she exchanged waves, Hermione Granger, and the Hufflepuffs Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley had selected another set to the right.

Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy had claimed two tables of a set on the left. Elena and Lucy could have taken one of the remaining few sets, but that would have been kind of rude. And Draco was cute—Elena wouldn't mind having an excuse to look at him. "I guess over there?" she said with a tilt of her head toward the Slytherins.

Lucy shrugged her agreement—and Michael Corner burst through the door, his hair messy and face flushed as he panted, having obviously sprinted to make it to class. He flung his arms around Lucy and Elena's shoulders and nearly bowled them over. "Support me!"

"No," said Elena and Lucy. They looked at each other over Michael's head and together stepped to each side, letting him flail to the flagstone floor.

"Ow," said Michael plaintively as they both laughed.

Lucy just walked around him as Elena leaned over to grasp his hand and help him back to his feet. "Get over yourself," she joked as she did. "What's a few broken bones and smashed internal organs to a wizard as talented as—"

"Yes?" said Michael eagerly.

"—Professor Slughorn?"

Michael pouted and threw her hand away from him to dust off his now half-untucked oxford. "Rude."

Elena gave him a charming smile and headed around him to take the last table remaining at the set with the Slytherins, between Lucy and Draco and across from Blaise. She allowed herself an instant to glance at Draco's jawline and the perfect arrangement of his plaid silver-and-green Slytherin tie with his vest and his silver Prefect badge—then she glanced away to see where Michael had gone.

He'd left his bag on top of the last table with the other Ravenclaws and had moved to examine the cauldrons on the counter. "What's this?" said Michael, his voice carrying.

Lucy snorted. "He'll kill us all one day."

"Probably," said Elena, tempted to laugh. She dug out her textbook and her rose-patterned Potions notebook to set them on her worn table. There were little divots in the wood from where other students had chopped or mashed ingredients before, and she absently pressed her thumb along one. "At least we'll die laughing."

"He won't," remarked Blaise in his low, even voice, with a hint of an unfamiliar accent.

All four of them looked over to watch Michael browse from cauldron to cauldron, leaning too close to them each time. "Mikey, come on," said Anthony, already laughing.

Michael held one hand up and halted at the fourth cauldron. "I know the other three," he said, and he tilted his head as he examined whatever was in the fourth. "This looks like it's hot water."

"It's not," said Ernie Macmillan.

He spoke a second too late—Michael poked whatever potion was in the cauldron with one finger and then licked it. Half the class groaned in disgust and the other half laughed in surprised disbelief. "Merlin," said Lucy, audibly amused.

"He's going to wake up tomorrow with funny little animals falling out of his mouth," Draco said, and Elena snickered before she glanced back and realized he'd been making the aside to Blaise. He looked at her at the same time and she quickly refocused on Michael, still at the front of the room.

"That tasted terrible," Michael announced as he faced the class. "I still don't know what the hell it was. I hope I don't die." He strolled back to his chosen table.

"You're an idiot," said Terry affectionately.

"No, I'm actually quite intelligent," retorted Michael. "I won awards for my intelligence in primary." He pointed at Lisa. "If anyone here isn't smart, it's her."

Lucy and Elena laughed as Michael clapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. "Veritaserum," identified Hermione with disdain, referring to the truth-telling potion. Lisa frowned at Michael, offended.

Before Michael could further embarrass himself and all of Ravenclaw, the door to Slughorn's office clicked open and the professor came in. Elena barely glanced at him—she'd only ever seen him at a distance before, and this close he was intimidating, big and confident and somehow resembling her mental image of a wealthy investment banker—before Lucy swatted her arm. "You like that idiot?"

Although it was just Blaise and Draco—and Elena was sure both of them had overheard—having a crush on Michael was a rather shameful admission. Elena glared at Lucy and ensured Slughorn wasn't looking before she snatched up her textbook and smacked Lucy in the shoulder with it. Lucy yipped and Slughorn glanced over to find the source of the brief commotion. Elena gave the professor an innocent smile as Lucy huffed.

"Two Potters in this class, eh?" Slughorn observed with what seemed to be delight. Elena wasn't sure how to respond. "And which of you is better at Potions?"

"Her, sir," said Harry, openly pointing.

Most of the room looked toward Elena, who tried not to fidget with the collar of her oxford. "It, um—depends on the day?"

Slughorn laughed politely. "Well, let's hope today is a good one!" He strolled around the counter to stand behind it, becoming something of a silhouette with the mist rising from the cauldrons before him. "Now then, scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making…"

"Sir?" said Harry.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"I, er, haven't got a book or scales or anything. I didn't realize I'd be able to do the NEWT."

Lucy scoffed as Elena sighed to herself. Slughorn had always taught these classes, and she'd always known that he required an E for students to continue to the NEWT level, whereas most other classes required an O. She ignored the ensuing conversation between Slughorn and her brother and briefly flicked through her textbook. She'd already marked a few of the more interesting potions.

In a couple of minutes, Slughorn returned to the front of the room, having given Harry a textbook and a set of scales. "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. Come up, everyone, take a look."

The students slid from their stools and moved together toward the counter. Michael hid at the end of the queue with Terry, and Draco somehow wound up in front of Elena. Their proximity prompted her to realize he had to have been at least six feet—she had to look up to see the back of his head. Nice, Elena thought, and almost immediately afterward she caught a glimpse of Harry's messy hair a few students past Draco. She thought about what Harry would say if he knew what she was thinking. Yeah, he'd lose it.

"These potions are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your NEWTs," said Slughorn when the class had gathered. Elena's arm brushed Draco's and she shifted away as unobtrusively as possible. "You ought have heard of them, even if you haven't made them yet." He pointed to the cauldron Michael had so intelligently taste-tested. "Can anyone tell me what this one is?"

Ernie and Hermione raised their hands, and Slughorn nodded at Hermione. "It's Veritaserum," she provided. "A colorless, odorless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth."

Michael made the faintest sound and a couple of students glanced toward him. He seemed to be struggling not to comment. Elena snickered and faced Slughorn again. As she did, Draco said in a low voice, "He should've been in Gryffindor."

For a second Elena didn't realize he was speaking to her—then she saw that Ernie was on his other side, raptly paying attention to Slughorn, and there was no way Draco had been making that aside to Ernie. "Probably," she agreed in an equally low voice.

Slughorn had continued talking. "—pretty well-known… Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately too… Who can—?"

Hermione's hand was in the air before he completed the question. Blaise had started to lift his, but he didn't bother once hers was up, just lowering his again. "It's Polyjuice Potion, sir," said Hermione, not even waiting for Slughorn to call on her.

Polyjuice Potion had been featured in the one Ministry leaflet Elena had glanced through over the summer. The Ministry was always afraid of something or other. Elena had to note that from the particularly grotesque shade of the mist rising from that cauldron, the Ministry was probably right in this case. "Excellent, excellent!" said Slughorn. He moved on to the following cauldron, emitting light pink mist. "Now, this one here… Yes, my dear?" he said, because Hermione had already raised her hand again.

Sometimes Elena understood why Charlotte hated her.

"It's Amortentia!"

"It is indeed," said Slughorn. "It seems almost foolish to ask, but I assume you know what it does?"

Lucy nudged Elena and they rolled their eyes at each other. "It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione.

"Quite right!" said Slughorn. "You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione, enthusiastic. "And it's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment, and—"

She stopped, and when Elena looked over, she found the other girl had turned about as pink as the mist. Most of the other students leaned toward the cauldron, sniffing in unison. Elena did the same—she detected petrichor and fresh earth, old leather-bound books and ash leaves, and something else she couldn't quite decipher.

Elena wondered what everyone else could smell, and why Hermione was embarrassed. Had she smelled Harry's cologne? Or Ron's? Elena couldn't decide which would be worse. "May I ask your name, my dear?" Slughorn said to Hermione.

"Hermione Granger, sir."

"Granger? Granger?" said Slughorn, either trying to remember something or testing it out. "Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

Awkward. "No, I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggleborn, you see."

Draco shot a glance back over Elena and Lucy's heads at Blaise, and both Slytherins smirked. Elena eyed Draco suspiciously. "Well, well," said Slughorn, "take 20 well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger!"

Ugh. "Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course," continued Slughorn. "It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room—oh yes," he said, looking from a skeptical Draco to a skeptical Blaise, "when you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love…

"And now," announced Slughorn, "it is time for us to start work."

"Sir, you haven't told us what's in that one," said Ernie, pointing at the fourth cauldron.

"Oho, yes," said Slughorn, who seemed to have been waiting for someone to ask. Elena noted that this was a much more dramatic start to her Potions class than she'd anticipated. "That. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis."

Elena half-grinned to herself and, before Hermione could do more than gasp, she raised her hand. Slughorn flicked his gaze from Hermione to Elena. "Ah, Miss Potter!" he said. "I assume you know what Felix Felicis does?"

"It's luck potion," said Elena.

Slughorn smiled at her as she dropped her hand. "Quite right—take 10 points for Ravenclaw." Lucy nudged Elena again, and Elena grinned back at her. "Yes, it's a funny little potion, Felix Felicis. Desperately tricky to make, and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, as this has been, you will find that all your endeavors tend to succeed…at least until the effects wear off."

"Why don't people drink it all the time, sir?" asked Terry.

"Because if taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence," said Slughorn.

Elena couldn't resist—she leaned toward Draco to whisper, "Sounds like Gryffindor again." He glanced down at her and smirked.

"Too much of a good thing, you know," said Slughorn, who hadn't noticed Elena's remark. "Highly toxic in large quantities. But taken sparingly, and very occasionally…"

"Why didn't I take that one?" Michael blurted.

Slughorn heard that—he glanced toward Michael in bewilderment. "What was that, Mister…?"

"Michael Corner," said the boy in question. Elena saw Terry grasp Michael's sleeve. "I—" He must have struggled with himself for a second. "Have you—ever taken it, sir?"

Slughorn still seemed confused, though amused now as well. "Twice in my life," he said. "Once when I was 24, once when I was 57." Wait, how old is this dude? "Two tablespoonfuls taken with breakfast. Two perfect days."

He gazed into the near distance and Elena barely refrained from laughing. "And that," said Slughorn, looking around at everyone again, "is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson!"

"Damn," whispered Lucy.

"One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis," said Slughorn. He withdrew the mentioned bottle from a pocket in his velvety green robes and lifted it to show everyone. The golden liquid glimmered in the torchlight. "Enough for 12 hours' luck. From dawn till dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt.

"Now, I must give you warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organized competitions…sporting events, for instance, examinations, or elections. Or, naturally, the Triwizard Tournament," said Slughorn with a knowing glance. "So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only…and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!

"So," he said, becoming brisk, "how are you to win my fabulous prize?" Merlin, he sounds like a used car salesman. "Well, by turning to page 10 of Advanced Potion-Making. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death." Elena's mind started racing as she tried to remember if she'd ever even glanced at the Draught of Living Death instructions twice before. "I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody," continued Slughorn, who as far as Elena was concerned was throwing down a gauntlet. "The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"

The students scattered, returning to their chosen tables and stools and flipping open their textbooks. Elena read the instructions a few times before examining the listed ingredients and considering, briefly, the purpose of the potion. Alright, thought Elena, lacing her hands together and cracking her knuckles. Around the classroom other students rushed to the shelves lining the walls, stuffed with ingredients. Time to focus on putting someone into a Sleeping Beauty coma.

Elena followed the crowd to gather the ingredients from the old shelves, overflowing with smudged jars and phials. She noted that Snape's shelves were much better organized—and after examining an available corked bottle of asphodel powder, she changed her mind and chose to find a root of asphodel to powder herself. It would set her back by a few minutes, but she trusted her own judgment more than anyone else's, and she was not about to add an imperfectly grinded powder to this potion.

She was halfway through brewing the Draught when she realized she didn't like the shade of purple her potion had turned. Elena studied it and returned to her instructions to review them and the ingredients. She had to wave some bluish mist away from her face to better read the small print—around her, the rest of the classroom was filled with coughing and the clearing of throats. No potions seemed to be working.

Elena mentally flicked back through the ingredients she'd already added. The infusion of wormwood hadn't seemed quite right. She considered before returning to the ingredient shelves to find a sachet of wormwood. With that she walked back to her table to grab her English oak wand and an unused bowl, and she headed out into the drafty corridor.

Outside, Elena poured wormwood into the bowl and used her wand to light it. She leaned away from the ensuing greenish smoke and waited for a second—and when the herb seemed burnt enough that it should have at least tasted more potent, she put it out and walked right back into Slughorn's classroom.

No one aside from the other three at her set of tables seemed to have noticed she'd briefly left. Elena leaned over to dump the wormwood into her cauldron, and she waited a second. To her delight the potion slowly bubbled from eggplant to lavender. And just in case, Elena decided to visit the shelves again to find octopus powder, to strengthen the potion further. As far as she knew there shouldn't be any adverse reactions from any of the previous ingredients.

Elena poured a little into her palm before adding it to her potion. It lightened again, and Elena grinned to herself and added a fraction more.

"What the hell are you doing over there?" Lucy asked. Her own potion was a deep mauve.

"I burned wormwood to increase the potency and added that," said Elena, "and then added octopus powder."

"Something is off about these ingredients," said Blaise, who Elena hadn't realized was listening. Not that, of course, at this distance it would be possible for him to ignore anything Lucy, Elena, or Draco said. "Sopophorous juice from a dried bean doesn't seem right."

Elena silently offered the octopus powder to Lucy, who accepted the phial and said, "What's it supposed to do? There's probably a substitute."

"It's used for insomnia," said Draco, whose hair was a little messier than before. Of course the mildly mussed look only added to his appeal.

Elena tried to remain focused on the potion at hand. "We could try lemon balm or lavender, then."

"I'll find lavender," said Blaise, and he left for the shelves himself.

When he was gone, Elena glanced around the room to check on how the other students were doing. She noticed that for some reason the only cauldron that wasn't emitting any variation of mist was Harry's, and she furrowed her eyebrows as she watched him hunch over his textbook, using one finger to follow a line of instruction. Harry had never been great at Potions—he'd barely managed to slide an E in his OWL.

Blaise came back and passed lavender around. The four of them decided they could all try different parts of the plant—Elena tried a few of the light purple petals, Draco used a couple of stems, Lucy opted for the roots, and Blaise chose the leaves. Afterward, when all of their potions had lightened considerably, they batted around ideas as to the best way to stir. As it turned out adding the occasional clockwise turn to the otherwise counterclockwise series of stirs made the potions more translucent, close to the clear, pale pink the textbook claimed the potion should be.

At last, when there was nothing else to do, the four of them leaned back from their cauldrons. Elena brushed a couple of strands of hair away from her face and commented, "I'd ask why these textbook instructions are so useless, but these haven't been updated since—what, 1965?"

The other three of them snorted. "Elena," said Blaise, and she glanced at him. He was handsome, with dark brown skin, prominent cheekbones, and close-cropped black curls, and he held himself with a rather intimidating amount of casual confidence. "No offense, but why are you so—tolerable?" He nodded past her. "You have that for a brother."

Elena spluttered a laugh—she was sure she'd never received a vaguer yet more sincere compliment. "First," she said, still amused, "only I can insult him." Both Blaise and Draco openly rolled their eyes. "Second, I have no fame to get to my head. Third—" She paused. "I don't know. You caught me on a good day."

Draco laughed and Lucy shook her head good-naturedly. "Fair enough," allowed Blaise. "But you won't stop me from insulting him."

Elena shrugged.

Slughorn called, his voice echoing through the misty classroom, "And time's…up! Stop stirring, please!"

The professor made the rounds, checking each student's potion. The other Ravenclaws seemed to fare fine, but when Slughorn came over to investigate the potions at Elena's tables, he blinked, visibly startled. Elena half-glanced at Lucy, who lifted her shoulders, as Slughorn stirred each of their potions and leaned down to examine them more closely. "Now," he observed when he'd reached Lucy's potion, "each of these is remarkably well-made—with something of an exquisite hand, even—but I'm quite sure none of you followed the instructions to the letter."

All four of them looked around at each other. Blaise seemed to take it upon himself to speak for them. "We added lavender, octopus powder, and burnt wormwood, and changed the stirring method."

"I commend all four of you on your resourcefulness," said Slughorn. "But I must advise against drastically editing the ingredients of such dangerous potions without asking first." He hummed to himself as he studied their cauldrons. "Let me see the other potions before I choose a winner."

He left to check the potions at Harry's set of tables. When he was out of earshot, Elena, Blaise, Lucy, and Draco glanced at each other. "If we lose because we're resourceful," started Lucy with irritation.

"It'll be like you're an honorary Slytherin," remarked Draco.

Slughorn cleared his throat. Everyone looked back to find him near the door, smoothing his velvety robes down. "Although I must give a most honorable mention to Miss Potter, Miss Fernandez, Mr. Zabini, and Mr. Malfoy, I cannot reward the four of you for experimenting with a potion that could put all of you to sleep if you stir it the wrong way." Annoyance rose in Elena even before he continued, "With that in mind, the winner is clear—Mr. Potter!"

Elena jumped, physically startled, and smacked her elbow against her table. "What?" Draco seethed, and Lucy huffed.

"Here you are, then," said Slughorn as he strolled over to pass Harry the tiny bottle of luck potion. "It's good to see you've inherited your mother's talent!"

Elena felt as if she'd been slapped, her blood running hot and then cold. "Oh my God," said Lucy too loudly.

"Favoritism," said Blaise, who sounded both disgusted and resigned. "He'll have it wherever he goes."

None of them knew how to respond, because it was true. As they went about cleaning up their stations, Elena's face seemed warm. Harry was everything their parents could have ever wanted. Everyone had always said he looked like their father, played Quidditch as well as James reportedly had, had their mother's eyes, and now, somehow, had inherited her talent for Potions, without putting any effort in at all.

Elena couldn't decide whether she was more angry or upset. Most of the other students seemed mad, too, glowering as they quietly cleaned their own stations. "Haven't you always been better at Potions than him?" asked Draco as the four of them finished up.

"Apparently not," said Elena. She yanked her tote bag onto her shoulder and nodded toward Blaise. "Insult him to your heart's content."

And although she was sure Harry was trying to catch her eye, Elena openly ignored him to leave the classroom with Lucy. "That was infuriating," said Lucy as the pair walked back down the drafty dungeon hall. "How does your brother do it?"

Elena sighed. "Trust me, if I knew, I'd tell you." And I'd be doing it myself.