-CHAPTER EIGHT-
-POTION AND PLANTS-
Penelope pushed open the heavy door to the dungeons and stormed down the steps, greeted by a cold blast of air. The dungeon stairs were long, cold and almost dark when only a little glimmer of light gave way. He couldn't shake his worry about the Potion Class, especially after Malfoy's act on the Grand Staircase. His mind conjured images of exploding cauldron, sabotaging with a sneaky extra ingredient, or Malfoy discreetly overheating someone's cauldron with a flick of his wand.
The dungeon corridor was dimly lit by flickering torches mounted along the stone walls. The air was cold and a breeze quickly brought the faint smell of old potions, burnt herbs, melted metals and a lingering taste of sulfur in James's mouth. The students were crowded near the heavy oak doors to the Potions classroom, their whispers echoing the floor.
Slytherin and Gryinffdors were fighting for spaces near the door, trouble already bubbling with the two houses. The Slytherin, with their smug expressions and sharp elbows, took every moment to shove past the Gryffindor into the wall and brought a laugh from the other Slytherins. One tall Slytherin bumped into a small Gryinffdor into the wall. A few Gryinffdors stood their ground, refusing to be pushed aside, their faces scowling. James noticed Penelope, glaring at Slytherin who had nudged her, her wand hand twitching slightly as if she was considering casting a hex at him. Rodney, meanwhile, hovered nervously at the back of the line, doing his best to avoid being smacked, blasted away by a wand and pushed out of the line.
Above it all, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed faintly from further down the corridor, showing that Professor Slughorn was just around the corner. Nobody listened.
Professor Slughorn flicked his wand as he came around the corner. His wand sharply slashed in the air just as Slytherin student reached to shove someone. The action froze mid-motion, and Slughorn's voice rang out, smooth but directed at the girl who now felt still and numb. "Something wrong, Draekhart?"
Selene Draekhart frozen, her hands still raised mid-push, as if an invisible force held it there. A sharp ache began to throb in her fingers and wrist, growing stronger with each passing second as Professor Slughorn's spell kept her suspended in motion. Her smile faded and replaced by a flicker of discomfort as she realised she couldn't lower her arm.
Can I put my hand down now?" Draekheart asked, her voice whimpering as the ache in her arm grew.
Professor Slughorn nodded and flicked his wand way, Draekhart's hand dropped immediately, and she began rubbing it, her expression sour.
"Welcome to your first Potion Class," Professor Slughorn announced as he strolled to the end of the line, his voice warm but able to shush all of the students. "Let me make one thing clear, there will be no pushing or shoving by any student, especially from my own house." He paused, his sharp gaze sweeping over the group and resting on Malfoy. Unlike the Potion Master and Head of Slytherin before me, who took great pleasure in docking points from Gryinffdor, as if it were a hobby, I am both fair and firm. I do believe that's why Gryffindor failed to win the House Cup for seven years straight.."
With a quick prod, he jabbed his wand toward the door. It creaked open slowly, revealing the dimly lit classroom beyond. The students slowly shuffled inside, some eager and others wary, their footsteps echoing in the cold stone chamber.
The Potion Classroom was a shadowy classroom under the main entrance of the Castle. Rows of sturdy wooden desk stretched across their room, their surfaces constantly marked with scratches, burnmarks and accidental spills. Atop each desk sat a set of polished brass scales, glass vials, and bundles of neatly stacked parchments that were ready for note taking. Shelves lined the stone walls, crammed with jars and bottles containing an assortment of strange and unsettling ingredients, their labels meticulously handwritten. A faint, sharp smell of vinegar and burning hung in the air, showing the new class that the first class of the day had gone terribly wrong, putting them into a fit of worry.
Rodney looked panicked when he saw the melted cauldron in the back.
The front of the classroom was dominated by a large blackboard, its surface covered in neat, flowing chalk script that outlined was the day's lesson was going to be. He saw the writing, much easier to understand than Professor Hardbroom's scribble. The words said "The Basic of Brewing, Boiling, Timing and Stirring. Beside it stood a towering a cupboard filled with cauldrons and various sizes, their metallic surfaces gleaming faintly in the dim light.
At the center of the room, Professor Slughorn's desk was piled high with scrolls, an ornate hourglass, and several bottles of shimmering and colourful potions. Behind him, a roaring fire cackled in a wide, stone hearth, giving some sort of warmth to the cold and damp room.
"Sit," Professor Hardbroom said, his voice booming as he gestured to the desk. The button on his shirt strained against his rounded belly, threatening to pop off.
Everyone quickly sat down. James, Penelope and Rodney and other Gryinffdor had took the table close to the door and the shelf of ingredients were to the back of him. Malfoy and his three friends sat down on the other table. Magus sat down, his backside so big, it looked like it needed two seats as it drooped over the side.
A root was flicked from Malfoy's table, slapping Penelope in the face.
"Just ignore him," James said over the table. "He'll get bored, eventually.
Slughorn stood up from his table, a vial with a white sticker seemingly followed him around with without any aid. "Does anyone know why we stir potions?"
Beating Penelope, Rodney had put his hand up.
"Ah, Rodney, isn't it?" Professor Slughorn said.
"Yes," Rodney squeaked and put his hand down.
"Why do we stir potions?"
Rodney straightened his back, ready to answer despite his throat almost clogging up. "Well, Professor, we stir potions because it ensures the proper combination and agitated, some need to be stirred left and right to release its magical properties. The stirring speed also matters, as certain potions need mixing harder than others.
Professor Slughorn beamed. "Excellent, Rodney. Couldn't have put it better myself. Five points to Gryinffdor.
Rodney smiled while Malfoy scowled. Penelope praised him and James clapped him on the shoulder.
Professor Slughorn held up the closed jar, the liquid inside swirling in colours of shimmering emerald green with the flashes of gold. The jar floated carefully, following him as he paced around the room.
"Does anyone know what this potion is by the colour of it?" he asked, looking around.
The students exchanged nervous glances, most avoiding eye contact. It was only Penelope who had her hand up.
"Yes, Miss Nightdusk?" Professor Slughorn said, smiling warmly.
Penelope was the only one that had her book up. She glanced it, then looked up at Professor Slughorn.
"That would be the Draught of Sleep, Sir. This hasn't been brewed correctly. If brewed improperly, it turns murky or loses the gold entirely."
"Well spotted!" Professor Slughorn said. "Indeed, this is the Draught of Sleep. Usually used to help wizards or witches to get to sleep."
"Can it be used to much?" James asked.
"Yes," Professor Slughorn. "Any potion can be used too much, the Draught of Sleep, if used incorrectly, can either put the person asleep for too long or cause sickness.
Professor Slughorn clapped his hands together, his rosy cheeks glowing. The jar settled onto desk with a soft thud as he turned to face the class.
"Very good, very good." he said, nodding at Rodney. "Now, today, we will be brewing a potion that is far delicate than the Draught of Sleep but it is a common potion. It's the Wiggenweld Potion, a wonderful, amazing potion that is for health and restoration. A few drops can awaken someone from even the deepest magical sleep, provided it's brewed correctly.
A ripple of excitement swept through the class as students quickly grabbed their quills and parchment to take notes.
"The ingredients for this potion," Professor Slughorn continued. "are as follows Wiggentree bark, which contains a protective charm. The Wiggentree is a tree that can only provides a protective charm to the ground, that everything will grow there no matter the rain or wind. Murtlap essence for its soothing properties. A dash of powdered moonstone to enhance the Wiggentree bark. And, of course, crushed Dittany leaves to ensure proper healing. Finally, we need a silver of Unicorn hair so the potion doesn't lose its colour."
He paused, his eyes scanning the room.
"Do we have to collect the Unicorn hair?"
"Hagrid was glad to provide a fresh patch of unicorn hair. Now, remember, the order of adding is critical, as is the way you stir. Follow the instructions precisely, and you might even end up with a potion worth bottling for Madam Pomfrey herself. Begin!"
The room quickly moved at the last word of Professor Slughorn.
James moved to the glass cabinets lining the back of the dungeon classroom, his footsteps pounding roughly against the stone floor. Malfoy elbowed him out of the way, grabbed the ingredients that he needed and went back to the desk. Inside the cabinets, the ingredients gleamed faintly under the enchanted torchlight and James quickly grabbed jars of powdered moonstone, sprigs of Dittany, and vials of shimmering Murtlap essance. His eyes scanned the labels until he found each item, carefully settling them into his basket one by one.
Once he had everything he needed, James returned to his table, his cauldron already simmering with water as steam curled slowly upward. He opened his Potions book, "Basic Potion-Making," and squinted at the print.
Step 1: Add three drops of Murtlap essence to the cauldron.
James uncorked the tiny vial and carefully tipped it over the bubbling liquid. Each drop sizzled as it hit the surface, hitting with a mushroom smell.
Step 2: Add a pinch of powdered moonstone, stirring clockwise until the mixture turns pale silver.
He measured the fine, glittering powder carefully, adding it to the thick and smooth water that was bubbling in the cauldron. His eyes never left the potion as the colour shifted, first to a dull gray and then to a brilliant silver.
Step Three: Gently crush the Dittany leaves before adding them to the potion. Stir counterclock wise exactly four times.
James worked quickly, crushing the fresh leaves between his fingers and dropping them into the cauldron. He counted each turn of the spoon in his head, careful not to lose track. Once he hit
Step 3: Gently crush the Dittany leaves before adding them to the potion. Stir counterclockwise exactly four times.**
James worked quickly but methodically, crushing the fresh leaves between his fingers and dropping them into the cauldron. He counted each turn of the spoon in his head, careful not to lose track.
By the time he reached the final step—adding the Unicorn Hair—his potion glowed faintly, the room around him tinted with its soft, magical light. James exhaled, feeling a surge of pride.
"Looks like I've got the hang of this," he thought, glancing at the other students to see if they were faring as well.
A loud boom echoed through the dungeon, and a plume of thick, green smoke erupted from Magnus's cauldron, engulfing the surrounding tables. The students nearest to the explosion yelped and ducked as the cauldron wobbled dangerously, splattering its contents across the room. The worst of the mess landed squarely on Malfoy's table, coating it in sticky and glowing goo.
"Magnus!" Malfoy bellowed, leaping back and clutching his robes, which were now speckled with a neon green sludge. "Are you stupid?"
Magnus, his face flushed with embarrassment, tried to stammer out an apology, but Professor Slughorn was already striding over, tutting loudly. With a quick wave of his wand, the smoke cleared, showing Magnus's cauldron dented and smoking, Malfoy glaring daggers, and several other students were laughing but muffled.
Professor Slughorn sighed, shaking his head as he watched the damage. "Oh dear, oh dear. Magnus, my boy, what have you done? Did you add the moonstone before the Murtlap essence?
Magnus shook his head. "I thought it wouldn't matter which order I did it, as long..."
"Of course it matters!" Professor Slughorn interrupted, though not unkindly. "The order is crucial, as I said earlier. Moonstone is highly reactive without a proper base. Honestly, it's a miracle you didn't blow up the whole dungeon."
He turned to Malfoy, who was still inspecting his robes with a look of shock. "Now, Mr. Malfoy, no harm done that a quick Scourgify can't fix. Let's not be harsh on poor Magnus here. Mistakes happen." With another flick of his wand, the glowing goo vanished from the table and Malfoy's robes, leaving the spotless once more. James wished Penelope had managed to master the Scourfigy spell when she used it on him.
He also turned back to Magnus, Professor Slughorn's expression softened. "Pay closer attention to the instructions, lad. Mistakes happen, but we learn from them, don't we? Now, off you go, start fresh, and this time, no shortcuts."
Magnus nodded, his cheeks still burning and hurried to clean up the last bit of his failed potion. The class went back to work and Malfoy still had a sour look on his face.
Malfoy leaned back in his chair, his lips curling into a sly smirk as he glanced at Penelope table. Her potion was coming along perfectly, a soft silver glow coming from her cauldron. Clearly, she was aiming for Professor Slughorn's approval and Malfoy wasn't about to let that happen.
Sliding his wand beneath the desk, he murmured a simple word but hushed. A faint flick of his wrist sent Penelope's jar of powdered moonstone teetering off the edge of her table.
Clink! Clatter
The jar shattered on the floor, and Penelope let out a startled gasp. "Oh no!" she exclaimed, immediately dropping to her knees to collect the powder and find what was left.
While she was distracted, Malfoy's wand flicked again, sending a few scraggly roots from his own pile and an extra scoop of powdered moonstone floating silently towards her cauldron. The ingredients hovered briefly before plopping in with faint splashes. James, Rodney and the other Gryinffdor student were too distracted with their own potions to notice anything. Malfoy bit back a laugh as her potion fizzled, the once-glowing liquid now turning into a murky green.
When People finally stood, clutching her shattered moonstone, she froze, her eyes widening at the sight of her potion. "What?" she stammered, staring in horror as the as the potion bubbled thickly.
Professor Slughorn saw what was going on, hurried over. "What this, Miss Nightdusk?" he asked, peering into her cauldron. "Your potion was coming along so nicely a moment ago."
"I... I don't know, Sir!" Penelope said and her voice trembling. "I followed the instructions exactly. It just changed while I was picking up my moonstone."
Slughorn frowned, dipping a ladle into the potion and examining its thick and strange smoothness to it. "Too much moonstone," he muttered, "and these roots, what in Merlin's name are they doing here? They don't belong in this potion at all."
Penelope looked shocked and genuinely looked shocked, her cheeks flushed when people laughed Malfoy, meanwhile, leaned back in his chair, looking into his cauldron. "Mine doesn't look like that."
Professor Slughorn sighed, shaking his head. "Well, no use crying over spilled potions, my dear. Clean this up and start again. And next time, keep a closer eye on your table."
Penelope set to work cleaning her cauldron and table with a prod of water, James shot Malfoy a suspicious glare, He had noticed the way Malfoy's wand had been moving beneath the desk and the smug expression on his face wasn't helping.
"You're going to get it, Malfoy," James whispered to him.
Malfoy shrugged his shoulders. "What can I say, Potter? Some people aren't cut out to be potion making."
Penelope turned to James, her face flushed with frustration as she said under her breath, careful not to draw Professor Slughorn's attention. "How can Slughorn not see that I didn't add extra moonstone when most of it is still on the ground This isn't fair.
James glanced at the shattered jar near her feet and then at Malfoy, who was inspecting his own potion.
"I don't think I can start over, I don't have enough moonstone.
James leaned closer, whispering. "Don't worry. I saw what happened. Malfoy's wand was moving under the desk while you were picking up the pieces. He must have sent those roots over and extra moonstone into your cauldron. I was talking to Rodney, about my potion, your cauldron was stirring and his wand was moving.
Her eyes widened. "He did this on purpose? That rat sabotaged me?
James nodded. "I've got extra moonstones, take someone of mine." He leaned to Rodney, whispering.
"OH NO!" Rodney shouted, dropping some nettles into his cauldron.
A massive WHOOSH followed by a thick cloud of smoke erupted from Rodney's table and filled the dungeon in seconds. Students coughed and scrambled to shield their eyes as Professor Slughorn hurried over and waved his hand to get rid of the smoke. He threw another nettle in, which caused another cloud of smoke.
"Merlin's Beard!" Professor Slughorn shouted. "Rodney, what on earth have you done?"
"I dropped some nettles into it," Rodney said, coughing.
Through the smoke, James had gotten over to Malfoy's table. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a generous of powdered moonstone, far more than the recipe called for. With throw of his hand, he dropped it into Malfoy's cauldron. Almost immediately, the potion to began to bubble violently, the colour shifting from silver to sickly green. Sparks shot out as the liquid frothed higher and threatened to overflow. For Penelope, James gave the flames beneath the cauldron a quick nudge, causing them to flare just enough to speed up the potion. He slipped back to his table, the cover of smoke was still thick enough to hide his shadow.
By the time the smoke cleared, Malfoy was staring at his cauldron in horror. The once-pristine potion was now a sputtering, unstable mess. Professor Slughorn, who had just finished scolding Rodney, turned to the mess at Malfoy's table.
"What is going on?" Professor Slughorn exclaimed, rushing over. "Mr. Malfoy, what have you done?"
Malfoy stammered, his confidence fading. "I... I didn't do anything! I followed the instructions perfectly."
Professor Slughorn examined the bubbling cauldron with a deep frown. "Too much moonstone," he said. "Far too much. These flames, why are they so high? This is completely unacceptable and dangerous, Scorpius. You could have caused a fire. Please, start over."
"Someone must have slipped something into it! Potter or Penelope."
"No excuses, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Slughorn said firmly. "Mistakes happen, but I expect better from you. Clean this up and begin again. If you accuse someone again, I'll take House Points from you."
Malfoy scrubbed the table. The bell rang, and Penelope, James and Rodney began clearing their tables. James was out of the class, slinging his bag over his shoulders and ready to go back to the Gryinffdor Tower.
"Potter!"
James turned to see Malfoy walking toward him, his face scowling. He stopped just short of James, his voice low enough to avoid drawing attention to him.
"I know you dropped something into my cauldron when the smoke was filling the room. I know Rodney's clumsily, but dropping nettles twice, even when the smoke was there for the second one. "Don't think I didn't hear you creeping around in that smoke.
"Did you see my face?"
Malfoy shook his head.
"So, you didn't see but are accusing me of doing something that you never saw.
Malfoy's lip curled in anger. "Don't play dumb, Potter. I know it was you. If you're so confident, prove it. Wizard's duel. I'll come with Magnus, you come with Rodney and we'll meet on the Trophy Room."
"Where is the Trophy Room?"
"It moves between the third and sixth. So once it hits midnight, it'll be moved to the sixth floor. Not far for you to travel."
James looked at Malfoy, nodding.
"Don't get caught."
"I'll be there, so will Rodney."
"You're not going to do it, are you?" Penelope asked when Malfoy drifted away from them.
James, Rodney and Penelope emerged from the shadowy of the dungeons, their robes still covered in smoke and dust from the Potions Classroom. They had break, which was spent going back to the Gryinffdor Common Room to put their potion books back and grab their Herbology books and made their way outside. It was hot, the sun gleaming in the blue skies above.
"Do you even know which greenhouse we're supposed to be in?" Penelope asked sharply, her voice rising above the noise of the footsteps and chatter of the guards.
James smirked, lifting his head in thought. "Greenhouse Three? or was it Greenhouse Two ? Either way, I'm sure Thistlewick won't mind if we get a bit lost. It's all about plants, isn't it?"
"Greenhouse Four?" Rodney mumbled, fumbling with his bag as he pulled the schedule covered in ink blots. "It says so right here."
Penelope let out an frustrated sigh and picked up the pace. "Honestly, if I let it to you two, we'd end up in the Forbidden Forest."
The three walked out into bright sunlight of the courtyard. For the first time this week they went out to the row of greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology. The greenhouse loomed in the distance, at least five greenhouses, all lined in a row, their gleaming glass beaming with the light. There was a noise of Professor Thistlewick Verdant's voice, followed by the rustles of vines and the puff of spores.
Greenhouse Four was bursting with the smell of damp earth. The greenhouse was packed with a range of different and strange plants, each more curious than the last. Some grew in cracked terracotta pots, other in glass globes that suspended from the ceiling by the enchanted vines that swayed gently with no breeze. There were gnarled, twisting roots spilling over into the aisles, vibrant blossoms that seemed to hum softly, and small, glowing fruits that pulsed with light like fireflies. A patch of venomous looking purple mushrooms huddled together in the corner and released a tiny, glittering spores whenever people went near it.
In the centre of the plants stood Professor Thistlewick Verdant, a figure as eccentric and strange as the plants around him. He was a tall, skinny man with a shock of silvery hair that seemed to have been teased by the wind, no matter how calm the Greenhouse was. His deep-set green eyes twinkled with a kind of wild and uncontrolled enthausiasm, framed by half-moon spectacles perched on the tip of his long nose.
His robes were a gleam of colours, patterned with blossoms, leaves and vines that looked as if they had been plucked directly from the Greenhouse itself. A particularly large sunflower adorned his left shoulder, its petal turning lazily to track the beams of sunlight flittering through the glass ceiling.
"Ah, there you are!" he said. "Come in, come in! Mind the Stinkthorn, if that touches you, you'll be smelling of plants for a week."
"What will be studying today, Professor Slughorn?" she asked and scanned at the vines in the pot.
"Ah, excellent question, my dear Miss Nightdusk," Professor Verdant said and clapped his hands together. A flurry of golden pollen drifted into the air from his cuffs. "Today, we shall learn about the strange things of the Wishing Vine."
"What does it mean? A Wishing Vine?"
"If it grabs you, you have to make a wish for it leave you alone. If you're taken by surprise, the wish can be bad. I've seen a student being grabbed by a vine, and made a wish. He covered himself in grease from bacon and sausages."
A long green vine behind him began to stretch toward the group. Penelope nodded and was already scribbling notes.
"Now, gloves on, everyone."
Before Professor Verdant could finish his warning, a Hufflepuff from the back of the class, an eager, round-faced boy named Edwin Bramblesworth, reached out and grasped the Wishing Vine with his bare hand.
Edwin froze, his wide brown eyes darting between the vine and Professor Verdant. "Uh... I think I might have a made a mistake," he squeaked.
"No, no, no! Never touch the Wishing Vine without gloves!" Professor Verdant cried, rushing forward in a flurry of rustling robes. His jacket seemed to grow more flowers in frustration and the sunflower on his shoulder turned sharply toward Edwin, its leaves twitching.
"What happens if you do?" James whispered to Rodney, leaning slightly to get a better view.
"Let's hope we don't find out," Rodney mumbled nervously and made sure that his gloves were tightly on his hands.
Edwin's hand began to glow with the same golden colour as the vine, and the hum deepened into an echoing tone that rocked through the greenhouse. The Wishing Vine's flowers started whispering, soft, unintelligible words that sent a shiver down everyone's spine.
Professor Verdant finally reached Edwin, waving his wand in a dance. "Stay calm, my boy," he said, his voice steady despite what was happening in front of him. "The vine has granted you one wish, it's the best if you tell us what you were thinking about when you touched it."
Edwin swallowed hard, his face growing pale. "I... I was thinking about chocolate pudding," he said in a soft voice.
Then, with a sharp pop, a shower of thick chocolate erupted from the flowers on the vine, showering Edwin and anyone within a few feet. The greenhouse windows were covered in a thick brown streak of chocolate. The vine released itself from Edwin's wrist and recoiled back into its pot.
The class burst into a fit of laughter, expect for Penelope, who had leaped back in time to avoid the splatter and was now furiously wiping a stray dollop off her notebook. Edwin stood drenched, blinking in confusion, while James laughed and leant on the table.
"Well," Professor Verdant said, inspecting the chocolate smear on the windows with a twinkle in his eye. "I'm glad it was only chocolate. That, class, is why you wear your gloves."
Edwin nodded, wiping the chocolate from his face as the vine wiggled smugly in its pot, enjoying what it had done.
Rodney slipped on the mess on the floor.
"Rodney, watch it!" James shouted when he saw Rodney slipping towards the vines.
But it was too late. The vine lashed out as through in frustration, wrapping around Rodney's elbow and sending another burst of golden light into the air. The faint hum returned and Rodney's face went very pale.
"What were you thinking about?" Penelope hissed and was already retreating behind her notes.
"I don't know!" Rodney gasped. "I wasn't thinking of nothing. OH NO!"
The vine shuddered, its flowers turning a pale yellow before erupting in a flood of thick and creamy custard that would have been dribbled on a chocolate cake. The entire Greenhouse seemed to stop as the custard blasted through the air and smashing right into James. It nearly knocked him off his feet and blowing his glasses for his face. He was unbalanced, and he slipped on the puddle of custard forming at his feet, landing with a loud splat. His face was plastered with custard, dripping off his face and glasses.
"You elbowed your vine and your wish was custard?" James said as Penelope said, waving her wand, saying the word, "Scourfigy," and this time, it cleaned everything, including the custard on the ground.
Rodney stared at the vine, it wiggling at him and whimpered when Professor Verdant scooped soil onto it.
Professor Verdant cleared his throat to the end the lesson, his jacket shaking off a fine layer of pollen. "And that class, concludes our lesson for today!" he declared. "Please ensure your vines are secure before leaving by adding the soil to put them asleep.
"We have dinner, Charms and we need to start on the homework that Professor Hardbroom left us," Penelope said and shoved her Herbology into her bag.