Harry Potter and the Knife of Hephaestus

Harry spent the next day anxiously awaiting the end of classes. Of course, as time will do when one is waiting for something, the day seemed to stretch out indefinitely. When Snape took twenty points from Gryffindor for Harry’s watching the clock, and neglecting to watch his potion (which bubbled over and made Seamus’s feet sprout feathers) , Hermione elbowed him. “Stop it!” she whispered fiercely. “That’s not going to help. My mum always says ‘a watched pot never boils’.”

“This isn’t a pot, Hermione,” Ron said, confused. “It’s a cauldron.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“It’s a phrase, Ron,” she muttered, going back to her own perfect potion.

Lunch was no better. Harry sat the entire time staring at Professor Slayt, who, if she noticed, ignored him. For the life of him, Harry couldn’t understand how his mother had been such good friends with the cold, blunt, Defense teacher. Perhaps she had been more… human… when she was younger, but Harry had his doubts. He just thanked the heavens that Defense Against the Dark Arts wasn’t on his schedule today.

Herbology was right after lunch that day. Harry sat in his usual place, between Ron and Justin Finch-Fletchley, who smiled and nodded in greeting. As Professor Sprout cleared her throat, the two turned back to the lesson.

“Today,” Sprout began, “We will be looking at the Veriflormas plant.” She held up a pot containing a rather ugly plant, with leaves that were somewhere between purple, gray, and green. At the very top was a hideously bright flower with neon orange petals and a bright blue center. It was large, lurid, and something Gilderoy Lockhart would undoubtedly love.

“The Veriflormas plant is, like many others, unknown to Muggles,” Sprout said as she passed out the cuttings they would be working with. “It--- Hannah, be careful. You don’t want to get any of the pollen, or actually any bit of the plant at all in your mouth.” Hannah Abbot, who had been just about to put a papercut finger in her mouth, jerked her hand away from her face.

“Why?” She asked curiously, although keeping the hand far from her face. Sprout sighed.

“The Veriflormas is both highly dangerous and highly beneficial,” she began, sounding very much as though she was reciting from the textbook (as indeed she was). “In small doses, mixed with monkshood, it is a powerful sedative. In larger doses, it is a mind-altering herb. It is used in truth potions, and love potions, as both need to alter the state of mind of the drinker. In large doses, it is highly fatal.”

“How does it kill?” asked Anna “Pidge” Watson, a petite blond with a love of dangly earrings and an unusual and most unHufflepuffish morbid streak.

Sprout looked grim. “The potion it makes, or just essence of Veriflormas, is not pleasant. First, one’s throat seizes up, so the victim can’t breathe. Next come muscle spasms, without warning, so the victim’s hands are usually at their throat, and they rip their own skin to shreds. The next step is hallucinations. The victim can breathe again, but they think that there are large amounts of insects, worms, and rats trying to crawl down their throats. The victim sometimes chokes on their own tongue during this stage. Finally, the blood in the victim’s veins clots and expands. All the veins rupture, and the victim slowly, and painfully bleeds to death.” She looked around at the sea of wide eyes and open mouths. “It was widely used during the time before You-Know-Who disappeared.”

Harry looked down at the innocuous seeming plant lying in his lap, and shuddered.

He was forced to suffer through Charms and Transfiguration as well before the three were free to visit Hagrid. Quickly, Harry, Ron, and Hermione ran up the stairs and corridors to Gryffindor Tower to get rid of their bags before they made their way down to Hagrid’s hut.

Hagrid was making tea as they knocked on the door, and moved around the kitchen in a large, frilly pink apron as they all talked.

Harry wasted no time. “Why didn't you ever tell us Professor Slayt was friends with my mum?" he demanded, as Hagrid casually pulled a plate of rock cakes out of a cupboard.

"Yeh never asked," was the answer. Harry snorted, while Hermione and Ron glanced at each other in the background. Hermione mouthed something to Ron that Harry couldn't make out, and Ron nodded in agreement.

"I didn't think I'd have to ask!" Harry yelled. Hagrid looked at him, and he blushed. "Sorry," he mumbled, and Hagrid smiled.

"Yer mum and Damia were close," he told Harry. To his left, Harry saw Hermione elbow Ron and whisper something into his ear. Ron nodded. With a surprising amount of tact, Ron stood and quietly left, Hermione following him. As they closed the door behind them, Hagrid continued. "Like sisters. Yeh see, they both 'ad trouble with their own sisters. Yeh know yer mum and yer aunt never got alon', and Damia's sister died young. Lily and Damia met, and they didn' get along too well at firs', but yer mum worked really 'ard to bring Damia out o' her shell. They were grea' friends by th' time they left."

"Professor Slayt's sister..." Harry asked curiously. "Her name was Armina? How did she die?"

Hagrid looked at him sharply, something Harry wasn't used to. Hagrid was usually quite easy to get information out of; all you had to do was get him relaxed, and it would just slip out. "I can' tell yeh that, Harry. It's Damia's business, not yers." He sighed nostalgically. "Yer mum and Damia were great friends, Harry," he told him. "Different as nigh' an' day, though. Yer mum was always laughin' an' Damia's always been so serious. Yer mum was caring, always sympathetic. Damia was a little... ruthless with people."

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked curiously.

"Well..." Hagrid cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Damia had a lot o' boyfriends in school. Yer godfather, fer one."

Harry was surprised to hear Hagrid speak of Sirius without his usual loathing. "D'you know about Sirius? Being innocent?"

"O' course I do," he said. "Dumbledore tol' me las' summer. All the teachers know now." He chuckled. "Professor Snape didn' take it too well."

Harry pushed the conversation back to the original topic. "But Sirius and Professor Slayt dated? When? Why? For how long?" He was a bit worried--- What if Sirius got his name cleared and decided to contact Slayt again? He didn't think Slayt liked Harry very much, the situation would be very awkward.

"Yeah, they did. In their seventh year, here at Hogwarts. It didn' Las too long, but they parted on good terms. Here, I saved a picture." Standing up and fishing around in his cupboards, he pulled out a battered slip of paper. It showed two teenage girls in dresses that looked as though they cost a small fortune, sitting on the hood of a lime-green Volkswagen. One was obviously Lily Potter, with bright green eyes and red hair. The other, with glossy black hair, must have been Damia Slayt, although she didn’t look it. Sitting in front of them was a sixteen year old Sirius Black, calmly sipping a giant milkshake as the two girls arranged his hair in many tiny braids.

Hagrid glanced up at the clock and stood up. "I gotta go see the Headmaster, Harry. The wyverns've caught some disease." The Care of Magical Creatures class had been studying the pack of overgrown, winged serpents for the past few weeks. Harry had kept a far distance; wyverns didn't speak Parseltongue. "I'll walk with yeh up to th' castle."

They walked up through the snow lying a few inches deep to the castle, Hagrid chattering happily away about how the alpha female of the wyvern pack had just laid eggs. Harry listened halfheartedly. It had just occurred to him, that while he knew about all his father's old friends and what they had done, no one had ever told him about his mother's friends. Everyone had always told him that he was just like his father. Wasn't there a part of him, other than his eyes, that was like his mother? He rubbed his eyes self-consciously, not noticing that Hagrid seemed to have asked him a question.

"W-what? Oh, yes, I agree." Hagrid seemed placated, and continued his rambling until they reached the Fat Lady. "Well, I'll see you later, then," Harry said, trying not to seem like he was trying to get rid of Hagrid. He cheerfully waved goodbye, and Harry climbed through the portrait.

Inside, the common room was in a (mild) uproar. Little groups were scattered everywhere, heads bent close together and whispering. Ron was sitting in an armchair in front of the fire, staring straight ahead, looking like a man about to be executed. On either side of him, Fred and George looked as though they were trying very hard not to tease him about something. As soon as they saw Harry, they left, most likely to go make fun of Ron behind his back.

Harry flopped down in an armchair facing Ron. "What's going on?" he asked. "Did something happen?" Ron turned his head slightly to look at him, with a desperate look in his eyes. "What happened?" Harry asked, beginning to get a little worried. "Is someone hurt?" Looking around, he noticed who was missing. "Where's Hermione? Is she okay?"

"Oh, everyone's fine," Ron said. "Hermione is... I think she's up in her dormitory. I kind of lost track of where she went."

"What happened?" Harry asked again. He was getting frustrated with Ron's elusive answers.

"Well," Ron began, looking a little angry now. "We were coming back up from Hagrid's, and we started talking about something, I think it had to do with Professor Slayt, and we started arguing about it." Harry groaned. He'd hoped Ron and Hermione had worked out their fights over the summer. Apparently not. "Anyway, we got into the common room, and we were still arguing. I guess we were pretty loud."

"Ron, what did you say?" Harry asked, half-amused, half-annoyed.

"Nothing, that's the problem," Ron replied confusingly. "Fred and George started yelling at me to shut her up, they were trying to--- write an order form or something, I guess. And anyway, I heard them yelling at me to shut her up, then Hermione got really nasty, and she dared me to try and shut her up---"

"What did you do, Ron?" Harry asked again, a little alarmed now.

"Ikissedher," Ron said, very fast and in a very low voice. Harry heard it anyway.

"You WHAT?" he choked. The common room dissolved into giggles.

"I kissed her," Ron said again, more slowly. "And she looked at me, and--- I dunno, she looked like she had just been kissed by Malfoy, and she ran away."

"Wow... um... that's..." Harry tried to find some bit of advice for Ron, and failed miserably. "Look, d'you want me to go talk to her?"

"I guess..."

"Well... um... all right then." Morosely, he heaved himself out of his chair and headed for the stairway to the girl's dormitories, wondering all the while why Ron and Hermione couldn't just admit they liked each other and get it over with.

Lavender and Parvati were standing outside the closed dormitory door. "Hermione," Lavender called. "What are you doing?" A loud crash emanated from inside.

"I'm venting," she called back out. "I'll tell you when I'm done."

"Harry!" Parvati gasped, seeing him. "You're not supposed to be up here!"

"I just need to talk to Hermione," he said. "You don't mind, do you?" They shook their heads, and he knocked on the door.

"Hey, Hermione? Can I come in?"

"Of course, Harry," came the answer. "It's unlocked." He opened the door, and his eyes widened in shock. The room was a total mess. Shards of broken pottery were mixed in with ripped cloth and spilled powders and liquids. In the center of the room, like the heart of a tornado, stood Hermione. She looked not in the least upset. Until she picked up a vase and threw it at the wall. Water, flowers, and shards of glass fell onto the carpet.

"Hermione--- are you mad at Ron?"

"Very. I just find it easier to break objects, rather than his skull."

"Why are you mad at him?" Of all the possible emotions, Harry had not expected her to be mad.

"Because I didn't want things to get complicated," she said, a little heatedly. "I liked our friendship, and whenever I thought that maybe I liked Ron as a little more than a friend, I just tried to ignore it, or tell myself friendship was better than romance." Harry felt a little uncomfortable, but Hermione continued, oblivious. "All I wanted to do was get good grades, and have fun, and try to keep you alive until next year. And now this complication."

"Do you like him, like that, Hermione?" Harry asked cautiously when she stopped for breath.

"Yes, of course I do, that's the whole problem," she replied confusingly. "The point is, while I liked him but didn't know if he liked me, I could ignore it and just get on with life. But now that I know he likes me, something will have to be done." She looked around the room, as if seeing the mess for the first time. "I feel much better," she declared, dusting off her hands. Then, suddenly, she was very businesslike. "Come on, Harry," she said, leaving the room. Harry followed her, wondering what on earth was going on.

He followed her out past an amazed Lavender and Parvati, down the stairs, and into the common room, which erupted into whispers again upon seeing her. Ron sank down in his chair, going very red.

Hermione knew just what she was doing, though. Without missing a beat, she marched straight over to Ron, grabbed him by the front of his robes, and kissed him.

The common room exploded into cheers like a volcano. Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet sent up sparks with their wands, while the Weasley twins whooped. Lilac Madderson threw her hat into the air, and a moment later, the air was filled with hats.

"WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?" The Gryffindor students froze. At the portrait hole stood Professor McGonagall, white-lipped with rage. She surveyed the students, who were too shocked to move. Except for two. In the middle of it all stood Ron and Hermione, oblivious to the rest of the proceedings, still kissing.

Inexplicably, McGonagall’s face softened. Without a word, she turned and went straight back out the portrait hole. All the Gryffindors stood silently for a moment, staring at the space McGonagall had just left. Then, with a whoop, Angelina Johnson Summoned a radio, and the party started in full swing, with Ginny and a few of her friends playing deejay and the twins disappearing for some time, only to return with their arms full of food.

And in the middle of it all, oblivious to everything else, Ron and Hermione stood, still kissing.