Chapter 21: Polyjuice Potion

December 25, 1992

Willow/Voldemort frowned. She would have to do something to get the twins off her trail. It was only a matter of time before they found out what she was doing and how to get in to the Chamber. But the question was what.

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Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Harry and Ron, the only ones left in their dormitory, were woken very early by Hermione, Willow/Voldemort, Buffy, and Dawn, who burst in, all fully dressed.

"Wake up," Buffy said loudly, pulling back the curtains at the window. She then jumped on Harry's bed.

Harry sighed, "Bells! I'm awake already."

Buffy giggled, "Come on, Harry, its Christmas."

"Buffy, Hermione, Dawn, Willow — you're not supposed to be in here —" said Ron, shielding his eyes against the light.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," said Hermione, throwing him his present. "I've been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion. It's ready."

Harry sat up, suddenly wide awake. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," said Hermione, shifting Scabbers the rat so that she could sit down on the end of Ron's four-poster. "If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight."

Buffy nodded in agreement, "It should be tonight."

The Great Hall looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. Dumbledore led them in a few of his favorite carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed. Percy, who hadn't noticed that Fred had bewitched his prefect badge so that it now read "Pinhead," kept asking them all what they were sniggering at. Harry didn't even care that Draco Malfoy was making loud, snide remark about his new sweater from the Slytherin table. With a bit of luck, Malfoy would be getting his comeuppance in a few hours' time.

Harry and Buffy had barely finished their third helpings of Christmas pudding when Hermione ushered them out of the hall to finalize their plans for the evening.

Willow/Voldemort watched them go and stood up. Instead of following them she went straight to the dormitory she shared with Hermione, Buffy and Dawn. She was thankful that she was sharing Willow's body as she climbed the stairs of the girls' dormitory and made her way to Hermione's bed. She found the vial of hair that Hermione had taken from Bulstrode and quickly swapped it with a vial of hair of a cat. She then headed downstairs to the Great Hall to rejoin the others.

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"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into," said Hermione matter-of-factly, as though she were sending them to the supermarket for laundry detergent. "And obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Crabbe's and Goyle's; they're Malfoys best friends, he'll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him.

"I've got it all worked out," Hermione went on smoothly. She held up two plump chocolate cakes. "I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom closet."

Harry and Buffy looked incredulously at each other. "Hermione, I don't think —" Harry said.

"That could go more seriously wrong." Buffy said finishing Harry's thought.

Hermione had a steely glint in her eye. "The potion will be useless without Crabbe's and Goyle's hair," she said sternly. "You both do want to investigate Malfoy, don't you?"

"Oh, all right, all right," said Harry. "But what about you? Whose hair are you ripping out?"

"I've already got mine!" said Hermione brightly, as Willow ran up and handed her a vial of hair.

Hermione looked at Willow/Voldemort, "Let me guess I forgot it in our dormitory?" she asked as Willow/Voldemort nodded. She looked back at Harry and Buffy. "Remember Millicent Bulstrode wrestling with me at the Dueling Club? She left this on my robes when she was trying to strangle me! And she's gone home for Christmas — so I'll just have to tell the Slytherins I've decided to come back."

When Hermione had bustled off to check on the Polyjuice Potion again, Buffy turned to Harry with a doom-laden expression. "Have you ever heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong?"

Harry shook his head.

Willow/Voldemort smiled as she left. If the plan worked the way she wanted. Hermione would transform in to a human shaped cat and then they would have to take her to the hospital wing instead of questioning Malfoy.

Harry and Buffy watched as Crabbe and Goyle came out of the Great Hall laden with sweets. Then they spotted the cakes that Buffy and Harry had left for them.

"How stupid can you get?" Buffy whispered as Crabbe gleefully pointed out the cakes to Goyle and grabbed them. Grinning stupidly, they stuffed the cakes whole into their large mouths. For a

moment, both of them chewed greedily, looks of triumph on their faces. Then, without the smallest change of expression, they both keeled over backward onto the floor.

Buffy smiled as she grabbed one and then the other and moved them in to the closet. She was glad she was the Slayer, as carrying them was easy for her. They then yanked out a couple of bristles of hair. They also stole their shoes, because their own were far too small for Crabbe- and Goyle-size feet. She and Harry sprinted up to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom leaving Dawn and Ron to stand guard just in case Crabbe and Goyle woke up.

Buffy and Harry could hardly see for the thick black smoke issuing from the stall in which Hermione was stirring the cauldron. Pulling their robes up over their faces, Harry and Buffy knocked softly on the door. "Hermione?"

They heard the scrape of the lock and Hermione emerged, shiny-faced and looking anxious. Behind her they heard the gloop gloop of the bubbling, glutinous potion. Three glass tumblers stood ready on the toilet seat.

"Did you get them?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

Buffy and Harry showed her the hairs.

"Good. And I sneaked these spare robes out of the laundry," Hermione said, holding up a small sack. "You'll need bigger sizes once you're Crabbe and Goyle." The three of them stared into the cauldron. Close up, the potion looked like thick, dark mud, bubbling sluggishly. "I'm sure I've done everything right," said Hermione, nervously rereading the splotched page of Moste Potente Potions. "It looks like the book says it should … once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly an hour before we change back into ourselves."

"Now what?" Buffy asked.

"We separate it into three glasses and add the hairs." Hermione ladled large dollops of the potion into each of the glasses. Then, her hand trembling, she shook Millicent Bulstrode's hair out of its bottle into the first glass.

The potion hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed madly. A second later, it had turned a sick sort of yellow.

"That just looks disgusting. I'm glad we only have to drink that stuff once." said Buffy, eyeing it with loathing. "Bet it tastes disgusting as well."

"Add yours, then," said Hermione.

Harry dropped Goyle's hair into the middle glass and Buffy put Crabbe's into the last one. Both glasses hissed and frothed: Goyle's turned the khaki color of a booger, Crabbe's a dark, murky brown.

"Hang on," said Harry as Buffy and Hermione reached for their glasses. "We'd better not all drink them in here …. Once we turn into Crabbe and Goyle we won't fit. And Millicent Bulstrode's no pixie."

"Good thinking. Plus, I don't know about Hermione but I don't want my brother seeing me naked when I change into the other robes." said Buffy, unlocking the door. She noted that Harry blushed a little from embarrassment from the mention of seeing her naked. "We'll take separate stalls."

Careful not to spill a drop of his Polyjuice Potion, Buffy slipped into the middle stall. "Ready?" she called.

"Ready," came Harry's and Hermione's voices.

"One — two — three —" Buffy called out. She drank the potion down in two large gulps.

Buffy suddenly felt sick to her stomach as she turned around to the toilet as if to throw up. But nothing came up. That's when she noticed the bubbling effect in her hand. She reached up and touched her face to find the same thing happening to it.

A moment later Buffy stepped out of the stall to see Harry already transformed in to Goyle. "Harry?" Buffy asked.

"Bells?" Harry asked in return.

Buffy sighed, "We still sound like ourselves."

"You need to sound more like Crabbe," Harry replied. "Since he doesn't speak much hopefully no one will notice your voice is higher than his."

Buffy nodded and tried to sound more like Crabbe with moderate success. "Hey... Where's Hermione?"

Hermione was still in the stall, "I - I don't think I'm going. You go on without me."

"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry asked as he glanced at his sister.

"Fine—I'm fine—go on—"

Harry looked at his watch. Five of their precious sixty minutes had already passed. "We'll meet you back here, all right?" he said.

Harry and Buffy opened the door of the bathroom carefully, checked that the coast was clear, and set off.

"Don't swing your arms like that," Harry muttered to Buffy.

"What?" Buffy asked.

Harry nods, "Crabbe holds them sort of stiff…"

"How's this?" Buffy replied as she held her arms stiffly.

"Yeah, that's better…" Harry said.

They went down the marble staircase. All they needed now was a Slytherin that they could follow to the Slytherin common room, but there was nobody around. "Any ideas?" muttered Harry.

"The Slytherins always come up to breakfast from over there," said Buffy, nodding at the entrance to the dungeons. Harry and Buffy hurried down the stone steps into the darkness, their footsteps echoing particularly loudly as Crabbe's and Goyle's huge feet hit the floor, feeling that this wasn't going to be as easy as they had hoped.

The labyrinthine passages were deserted. They walked deeper and deeper under the school,

constantly checking their watches to see how much time they had left. After a quarter of an hour, just when they were getting desperate, they heard a sudden movement ahead.

Buffy smiled, "There's one now."

The figure was emerging from a side room. As they hurried nearer, however, their hearts sank. It wasn't a Slytherin, it was Percy.

"What're you doing down here?" said Harry in surprise.

Percy looked affronted. "That," he said stiffly, "is none of your business. It's Goyle, isn't it?"

"Wh — oh, yeah," said Harry.

"Well, get off to your dormitories," said Percy sternly. "It's not safe to go wandering around dark corridors these days."

"You are," Harry pointed out.

"I," said Percy, drawing himself up, "am a prefect. Nothing's about to attack me."

Buffy stifled a giggle. She knew if something evil wanted to it wouldn't matter if Percy was a prefect or a helpless baby. He would still be dead.

A voice suddenly echoed behind Harry and Buffy. Draco Malfoy was strolling toward them, and for the first time in his life, Harry was pleased to see him. "There you are," he drawled, looking at them. "Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I've been looking for you; I want to show you something really funny." Malfoy glanced witheringly at Percy. "And what're you doing down here, Weasley?" he sneered.

Percy looked outraged. "You want to show a bit more respect to a school prefect!" he said. "I don't like your attitude!"

Malfoy sneered and motioned for Harry and Buffy to follow him. Harry almost said something apologetic to Percy but caught himself just in time. He and Buffy hurried after Malfoy, who said as they turned into the next passage, "That Peter Weasley —"

"Percy," Harry corrected him automatically.

"Whatever," said Malfoy. "I've noticed him sneaking around a lot lately. And I bet I know what he's up to. He thinks he's going to catch Slytherin's heir single-handed." He gave a short, derisive laugh.

Harry and Buffy exchanged excited looks.

Malfoy paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall. "What's the new password again?" he said to Harry.

"Er —" said Harry.

"Oh, yeah — pureblood!" said Malfoy, not listening, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Malfoy marched through it, and Harry and Buffy followed him.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs.

"Wait here," said Malfoy to Harry and Ron, motioning them to a pair of empty chairs set back from the fire. "I'll go and get it, my father just sent it to me —"

Wondering what Malfoy was going to show them, Harry and Buffy sat down, doing their best to look at home.

Malfoy came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper clipping. He thrust it under Buffy's nose. "That'll give you a laugh," he said.

Buffy looked at the clipping that had been clipped out of the Daily Prophet, and it said:

INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.

Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry called today for

Mr. Weasley's resignation. "Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."

Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them.

Buffy wondered how the Ministry found out about Mr. Weasley's car. She gave a forced laugh and then handed the clipping to Harry.

"Well?" said Malfoy impatiently as Harry handed the clipping back to him. "Don't you think it's funny?"

"Ha, ha," said Harry bleakly.

"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them," said Malfoy scornfully. "You'd never know the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave. You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet," he went on thoughtfully. "I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never've let slime like that Creevey kid or the youngest Potter girl in."

Buffy's — or rather, Crabbe's — face was contorted with fury.

"What's up with you, Crabbe?" snapped Malfoy.

"Stomachache," Buffy grunted. She knew that Dawn was not in reality muggle-born, but a half-blood like herself and Harry. That said she still really wanted to pound Malfoy into pulp for even mentioning Dawn.

Malfoy started taking pictures with an imaginary camera and did a cruel but accurate impression of Colin: "`Potters, can I have your picture, Potters? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Potters?"' He dropped his hands and looked at Harry and Buffy. "What's the matter with you two?"

Far too late, Harry and Buffy forced themselves to laugh, but Malfoy seemed satisfied; perhaps

Crabbe and Goyle were always slow on the uptake. "Saint Potters, the Mudbloods' friend," said Malfoy slowly. "They're another one with no proper wizard feeling, or they wouldn't go around with that jumped up Granger Mudblood. And people think they're Slytherin's heir!"

Harry and Buffy waited with bated breath: Malfoy was surely seconds away from telling them it was them — but then "I wish I knew who it is," said Malfoy petulantly. "I could help them."

"You must have some idea who's behind it all…" Harry said.

"You know I haven't, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?" snapped Malfoy. "And Father won't tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing — last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So, I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time…I hope it's Granger," he said with relish.

Buffy was clenching Crabbe's gigantic fists. Feeling that it would be a bit of a giveaway if Buffy punched Malfoy, Harry shot her a warning look and said, "D'you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?"

"Oh, yeah…whoever it was, was expelled," said Malfoy. "They're probably still in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" said Harry, puzzled.

"Azkaban — the wizard prison, Goyle," said Malfoy, looking at him in disbelief. "Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backward." He shifted restlessly in his chair and said, "Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week?"

Harry tried to force Goyle's dull face into a look of concern.

"Yeah…" said Malfoy. "Luckily, they didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor —"

"Ho!" said Buffy.

Malfoy looked at her. So did Harry. Harry could tell that Buffy's hair was slowly turning blond — their hour was up, Buffy was turning back into herself, and from the look of horror she was suddenly giving Harry, he must be, too.

They both jumped to their feet.

"Medicine for my stomach," Buffy grunted, and without further ado they sprinted the length of the Slytherin common room, hurled themselves at the stone wall, and dashed up the passage, hoping against hope that Malfoy hadn't noticed anything.

Buffy could feel her feet slipping around in Crabbe's huge shoes and had to hoist up her robes as she shrank; they crashed up the steps into the dark entrance hall, they spotted Ron and Dawn and motioned for them to follow. Leaving Crabbe and Goyle's shoes outside the closet door, the four of them sprinted up the marble staircase toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Well, it wasn't a complete waste of time," Harry panted, closing the bathroom door behind them. "I know we still haven't found out who's doing the attacks, but Ron you need to write your Dad tomorrow and tell him to check under the Malfoys' drawing room."

Buffy checked her face in the cracked mirror. She was back to normal. She went and hammered on the door of Hermione's stall as Harry put his glasses on, "Hermione, come out, we've got a lot to tell you —"

"Go away!" Hermione squeaked.

Ron, Dawn, Harry and Buffy looked at each other.

"What's the matter?" said Buffy. "You must be back to normal by now, we are."

But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the stall door. Harry had never seen her looking so happy. "Ooooooh, wait till you see," she said. "It's awful —"

They heard the lock slide back and Hermione emerged, sobbing, her robes pulled up over her head.

"What's up?" said Harry uncertainly. "Have you still got Millicent's nose or something?"

Hermione let her robes fall, her face was covered in black fur. Her eyes had turned yellow and there were long, pointed ears poking through her hair. "It was a c-cat hair!" she howled. "M-Millicent Bulstrode m-must have a cat! And the p-potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations!"

"Uh-oh," said Harry.

"You'll be teased something dreadful," said Myrtle happily.

"It's okay, Hermione," said Dawn quickly trying to comfort their friend. "We'll take you up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey never asks too many questions…"

It took a long time to persuade Hermione to leave the bathroom. Moaning Myrtle sped them on their way with a hearty guffaw. "Wait till everyone finds out you've got a tail!"

Buffy glared at Moaning Myrtle, "Be glad you're a ghost. Or I would unleash my Slayer fury on you, Myrtle."

Myrtle gasped, "You're a Slayer?!"