The Seers' Truth: A Broken Beginning

Chapter 6

Polyjuice Peril

Neville and his new brother, Llywelyn, were discussing how Herbology complemented Potions when Ron, Hermione, and Harry and their first years caught up to them.

"I am so glad we no longer have Professor Snape for Potions," Neville was confiding to Lou. "Mrs. Figg will be so much better."

"How do you know?" Lou asked.

"Anyone would be better than Snape," said Neville. "You saw him last class."

"Didn't you learn the potions that you were supposed to...?"

"Oh, we learned them," Harry interrupted. "It wasn't that he was a bad teacher, it was that he favored the Slytherins so shamelessly. We were constantly having points taken away for nothing."

"He didn't seem like he would do that," Lou said.

"Think what you like," said Ron. "You'll see. Snape is a Bastard with a capital B."

They slipped into potions, still chatting with one another and Mrs. Figg didn't reprimand them. She didn't even seem to notice. She was writing on a parchment with a quill that was nearly devoid of feathers. She stuck the end of the quill in her mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully before continuing her writing. Mrs. Figg was a tiny woman with long white hair, oval wire rimmed spectacles and a cheery smile. She looked like somebody's grandmother instead of a witch.

The dungeon itself was transformed. Colorful tapestries hung on the dark stone walls and several large cheery pictures of outdoor ocean scenes decorated the back of the room. Seagulls were flying over the billowing waves in one and another had a school of dolphins playing along a white sand beach. In both, the sun was gleaming and reflecting on the water. There were three smaller pictures taken at sunset from the beach. One had a sailboat on it and the others just had seashells in the sand and a large expanse of ocean. They looked warm and inviting, like some beach resort.

As the students were being seated, she spoke. "I apologize for the dark dreariness of the room, but I understand you had potions in this classroom last year. It is, unfortunately, the most suited to the noxious fumes or sudden explosions we sometimes experience with potions. It is also the only room with adequate storage for the herbs and other ingredients--not to mention cauldrons. You wouldn't want to have to lug those to class each day, would you?"

The class chuckled nervously. No one was used to smiling in Snape's dungeon.

"Now then, Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to begin this year with a very advanced potion called the Polyjuice Potion, PJP."

"Oh, this is going to be a good year," Ron whispered to Harry. "Another class I can sleep through."

"I think not Mr. Weasley."

Ron's mouth fell open and he mouthed, almost silently, "She couldn't have heard--"

"But I did hear, Mr. Weasley, and if I hear anything more, there will be points taken from Gryffindor."

Ron sat up a little straighter and the rest of the class got very quiet. The only sound besides Mrs. Figg's voice was the scratch, scratch of Neville's QQQ taking notes, and somewhere, faraway, water was dripping.

"As I was saying, PJP is a very advanced potion, not because of what you must do, but because of what you must not do. All of this week we will be scrubbing the cauldrons with Mrs. Skower's All Purpose Magical Mess Remover. They must be scrupulously clean. Then we will fill the cauldron with Mrs. Skower's Double Bubbling Disinfect to insure that nothing is still in the cauldron other than the ingredients we choose to put in it. Any minute particle can yield disastrous and often permanent results. For this reason, I was hesitant when Dumbledore suggested I start the year with this potion, but I also understood why he wanted you to know how to make it. Almost any wizard who survived the last dark times owes his life to Polyjuice Potion. It is of tremendous benefit to be able to walk unrecognized in the enemy's camp, and, to reassure me, Dumbledore tells me that Madam Pomfrey is one of the only living wizards who is experienced in successfully reversing a Polyjuice mistake."

Harry glanced over at Hermione who was a deathly white. Beatrice had already used her puffer several times and didn't look well either.

"There are several stipulations that I asked for and Dumbledore has agreed to: anyone tampering with another person's cauldron will be expelled." She paused, allowing that to sink in. "The following infractions will earn detention or loss of house points or both. Number one: Anyone taking the lid off of their cauldron for any reason other than to add ingredients or to stir. Number two: Anyone not magically sealing the lid of their cauldron before leaving the classroom. And number three: If you have dirty hands when you come to this class and that includes fingernails.

"Animagi are forbidden, by law, to make Polyjuice Potion. The animagus spell causes certain innate changes in the skin, which means that you're touching of the ingredients could alter the potion itself. If you have ever officially, or unofficially, attempted the animagus spell, you need to see Madam Pomfrey to be sure the changes are not present in you skin.

"At this time, you may get your cauldrons and begin scrubbing them. When you have finished, trade with a partner and scrub again. Continue cleaning throughout the second period. You may talk quietly among yourselves," she paused, and then addressed Beatrice. "Beatrice, please come here. I have an errand for you to do."

Harry couldn't wait to get to Hermione's table. "Did you hear her?"

"Did we even rinse the cauldron?" squeaked Ron.

"We were very, very lucky," said Hermione.

"Lucky! This, from the woman with a tail!" said Ron.

"I didn't STAY that way!" hissed Hermione. "I never knew that Madam Pomfrey knew what we had done. She never took house points or even reprimanded me."

"She must have told Dumbledore though," said Harry.

"Am I to understand that you have already MADE Polyjuice Potion?" asked Ron's little brother Joe.

"Yes," said Ron, "we were second years and the Heir of Slytherin was petrifying people."

"Ron," Ginny said softly, but Ron ignored her and pressed on.

"We thought the only way to find out who the Heir was would be to get into the Slytherin common room. We figured that Malfoy would know, so Harry was--"

Harry kicked him sharply. "I was supposed to be a Slytherin and so was Hermione, but as you know, it's a very tricky potion and we botched it."

"And so, did you find out who the Heir of Slytherin was?" asked Edward.

"Ron, Please," Ginny hissed from the table behind them.

Mrs. Figg was rearranging the seating and moved Samara, pairing her with Pansy Parkinson. Hermione and Ginny were also moved forward and paired with the Slytherin first years.

Ginny turned around and put a finger to her lips, but Ron was busily scrubbing his cauldron. He didn't even look at her.

"So," Mrs. Figg was saying, "in keeping with what the Headmaster Dumbledore's wishes, you will share a cauldron with a member of a different house. Before you get any ideas, I attended Hogwarts many years ago, and understand the ancient rivalries between the houses. I will see anyone who tampers with another's cauldron expelled, and it is wise to keep in mind that you will be drinking from the same cauldron has your partner. It benefits you to work together even though you are from different houses. Let's see: Colin and Alvin, Lauren and Eloise--"

"She's pairing us with those Death Eaters!" said Harry. "Is she nutters?"

"Well, at least that should keep Ron awake," said Hermione.

Ron glared at her and then continued to talk to Edward. "Actually," Ron said, "we DID find the Heir of Slytherin. It was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He left an enchanted diary of himself when he was sixteen and my little sister was stupid enough to write in the diary. He was acting through her all year."

"Is she still--um--your sister?" asked Edward tentatively.

"Yes!" Ron shouted, and Mrs. Figg looked up from her work.

"Mr. Weasley, I don't believe you have taken me seriously. Five points from Gryffindor for your disturbance and you may move over here to a table alone, since you cannot seem to control yourself."

Harry glared at Edward. "How could you say that to Ron?" he spat.

"Well, I wouldn't think ANYONE would come away from something like a--possession--without residual damage."

"Ginny's fine," said Harry.

"If you say so."

"Draco," Mrs. Figg continued, "I think you might find it interesting to work with the opposite twin, so Ethan and Edward, please change seats. Llywelyn and Joe, please take your seats by Vincent and Greg."

The next few minutes of potions was passed in sullen silence. Harry wasn't going to talk to Edward's Slytherin brother, but after a while, his curiosity got the better of him. It was going to be a long two-hour class doing nothing but scrubbing if they didn't talk to each other. Finally, Harry broke the silence. "So, you were raised by your grandmother?" Harry asked.

"Ha! Don't get any grandmotherly pictures, Gryffindor. She's a Dragon-lady." He didn't speak with disgust. He spoke with pride.

"I didn't get that impression from your brother," said Harry. "He called her Granny."

"Not to her face, he didn't. She'd have locked him in the closet with the rats--or worse," said Ethan. He grinned nastily. "Draco tells me you and my brother should have a lot in common. You can discuss the dimensions of your closets."

Harry said nothing. He wondered how Ethan knew about the Dursleys's cupboard. For that matter, how did Malfoy know? Harry sighed. He thought that it was going to be a long two months brewing this potion.

"Didn't hurt your feelings, did I, Gryff? I forgot, Gryffindors are pretty thin-skinned. I've learned that from my brother. Thick skulled and thin-skinned. Always whining about something."

"You forgot quick tempered," Harry said lowly. "Didn't Snape just say we Gryffindors rush into action without preparation." Harry almost wished he were paired with Malfoy. At least he would have been a familiar foe. He felt the beginnings of a headache.

As if Ethan could read his mind, he asked, "So, tell me, is Draco the most cowardly git imaginable, or is he just plain stupid?"

Harry concentrated on cleaning the cauldron. There was no way he was going to touch that statement.

"I mean, look at him: reasonably attractive, above average intelligence, a good family, and he surrounds himself with those morons and calls them friends. Why? Certainly not for their intelligence, more than likely their stupidity would get him into trouble. Does he need their brawn to protect him?" Ethan's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Maybe he's afraid. Of course he would have reason to be, wouldn't he?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Of course you know," said Ethan. "You feel the Dark Lord's power. Perhaps you feel it more than any of us."

"You have no idea what I feel," Harry said coldly.

"Well, that's true," Ethan retorted. "Feelings are for the weak."

Mrs. Figg was telling them to clean up their area and put their cauldrons away. "Be sure to fill it with Mrs. Skower's Double Bubbling Disinfect to soak before you leave and seal the cauldron," she said.

Hurriedly, Harry finished with his cauldron. He couldn't wait to get away from Ethan. His head was pounding. Perhaps some cool water and fresh air would make him feel better.

"Hey Gryff," Ethan called after Harry. Harry turned. Ethan was holding the lid of Harry's cauldron in his hand. "Forget something?" he asked.

"Bloody hell," Harry rubbed his scar. He had forgotten to magic his cauldron closed. "Thanks Ethan," he said as he came back and performed the charm.

"It's ok partner. We have to look out for each other."

"Sure," said Harry, trying very hard to mean it.

The Slytherins slipped back to their friends and Harry joined Ron and Hermione and their first years. Edward took a few extra moments laughing at something Malfoy had said, and then hurried to meet the other Gryffindors. Crabbe and Goyle stalked up to either side of Malfoy and Harry noted that they did seem like large, stupid bodyguards. Ethan had already left the potions room.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" commented Samara.

"Oh, yeah, loads," retorted Ron sarcastically.

"Well, what I meant was we got to talk instead of just silently cleaning. Pansy seems kind of shy though."

"A shy Slytherin? I don't think so," said Harry.

"Well, I was probably running on at the mouth again," said Samara, "but Pansy seemed like a good listener."

"Probably had lots of practice listening to Malfoy," said Hermione. "They were definitely a couple last year, but I haven't seen them together this year. Maybe they broke up. Remember, he took her to the Yule Ball last year?"

"I wish they'd have a Yule Ball this year," said Ginny dreamily.

Harry shuddered. "Not me. I'm not much for dancing."

"Oh, dancing's fun," said Samara. "Maybe you just didn't have the right partner." Her dark eyes caught his. "I miss dancing."

"That's because you haven't tried flying," said Harry. "Which reminds me, who's trying out for the Quidditch Team tomorrow?"

"I am," piped in Colin Creevy.

"You can't carry a camera and the Quaffle," joked Ron.

"I'd like to try out," said Samara. "I didn't do too badly for my first time on a broom today."

"Oh, right," said Harry, "first years had flying this morning, didn't they? How did you do?"

Samara grinned widely. "It was so exciting. I loved it. I'm not very good though. A lot of the first years had been on brooms when they were three or four years old. They didn't need the flying lessons and Madam Hooch said they could choose one of the regular electives. She was undecided about me, but I thought I'd rather stay with flying than go into a stuffy classroom."

"You lucky thing," said Ron.

"Why don't we go down to the Quidditch Field?" said Harry. "It's open flying now. I'll give you some pointers. Ron, are you and Ginny coming?"

"Well, if I want to get on the Quidditch team this year, I can't pass up tips from Gryffindor's best seeker, can I?" said Ginny.

Harry completely missed Ginny's complement. Edward didn't.

"Anyone else coming?" Harry looked around. "How about you Edward?"

"No," said Edward, "I don't think so. We have homework."

Ron shuddered. "You sound like Hermione."

"That's not a bad thing," said Hermione. "And we do have homework. I thought we were going to see what we could find out about the Sorting Hat."

"We'll meet you in the common room later," said Harry. "I don't know about everyone else, but I need the fresh air after DADA and Double Potions. Three hours of Slytherins. Ugh. I definitely need to fly and clear my head."

"Come on, Ed," Samara urged. "You were awesome this morning. Even Madam Hooch commented about your quick turns."

"It's Edward," he said. He looked at the ground, his brow furrowed in thought. "No," he said finally, "I can't play Quidditch. My brother is the Quidditch player."

"You know Edward," said Harry gently, "you might surprise yourself. You aren't in competition with your brother here. You are in Gryffindor. He's in Slytherin. Wouldn't it feel good to beat his ass for once?"

Edward looked up, a light in his eyes, but it immediately died. "No," he said again, "I can't. If you don't mind, though, I'd like to go and watch you practice."

Edward, Ginny, Samara, Harry and Ron headed for the Quidditch field with Colin trailing behind.

"Wait up, I'm coming too!"

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