The Recipe

The Recipe

III

"Potter and Granger, let's just say I'm displeased with your lack of judgment."
Harry and Hermione had decided to reveal their sticky situation first to Professor Ash, who had given them the unfortunate homework.

They were now standing before her desk in her office, and poor Ron was hiding behind them. He looked exactly like one who doesn't understand a word of what other people are saying. The teacher was looking at them sternly, twiddling her quill idly in one hand.
"Now, what was it that you think went wrong?" she asked.
"The blood," answered Hermione at once. "It was Ron's duty to find it, and... I didn't check its origins. I'm sure he thought it was genuine."
Professor Ash nodded.
"You should know better not to use anything in a potion, of what you are not entirely sure if it is viable."
Before they had the time to defend themselves, she suddenly smiled.
"'Virgin's blood'... Yes, indeed..." She eyed them a little more sympathetically. "You didn't ask him where he got it?"
"I did, actually." said Hermione. "He said it was genuine, and I..."
"... and you believed him." Professor Ash sighed. "Oh, well... Who am I to taunt you. There is a weak spot in each of us... All right. Follow me," she finished, and paced briskly out of her office. Hermione went after her, and Harry dragged Ron along by the arm.

***

She had lead them all the way through the castle towards the dungeons, until she finally knocked on Snape's office door.
"What the hell are we doing here?" whispered Harry uneasily to Hermione's ear. Hermione gave him a look that implied that maybe this was actually the very place to come in this kind of a situation.

The Potions master opened the door and glared at them in astonishment.
"Yes?"
"Good morning, Snape," said Professor Ash, smiling cautiously. "I'm sorry to disturb you... But perhaps I should have listened to your advice after all. It seems that my attempt at teaching that famous recipe to my fifth-years has had some inconvenient consequences."
Snape raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting some further information.
"Mr. Weasley here," - Professor Ash shoved Ron a little forwards - "has taken a good amount of something these three Gryffindors brewed last night. It appears Mr. Weasley now can't speak - or understand, for that matter - any language at all. All due to their blunder of using the wrong kind of blood, as far as I understood."
Snape turned his gaze at Ron, who looked utterly appalled.
"So," Professor Ash went on, matter-of-factly as though speaking of weather. "I think we should give him some antidote, don't you think?"

Snape merely nodded. He seemed to be a little confused, but without hesitation he went to search his store of antidotes. In no time he brought a dusty ceramic bottle with him and handed it over to Professor Ash.

She gestured Ron to open his mouth, and poured a few drops on his outstretched tongue. Harry and Hermione viewed this operation worriedly.
Ron swallowed and quivered slightly.
"Feeling better?"
"Y-yeah... I think. I mean, yes, Professor..."
Both Harry and Hermione burst out a heavy sigh of relief.

Professor Ash put the bottle aside and turned to face them.
"You have been lucky, you know," she said gravely. "The potion you tried to make is powerful, but it was fortunately designed by a man who didn't think much of other people's skills. So, for a precaution he made sure that it was easy to counter its effects in case of a failure. Now, listen carefully. I am amazed that you actually almost succeeded. This recipe includes many twists. To interpret it rightly, it is essential to find the correct definitions of certain words - or concepts - which can be understood in more than one way. When done wrongly, the effects of the potion also depend on the nature of the mistake. Your potion caused such an interesting effect, that I'm afraid you must give me more details. Now tell me, where was the blood from? Whose was it?"
None of them responded. Ron's ears went pink, and the other two were watching at him expectantly.
"Er... Ginny's. Ginevra Weasley's, Professor," said Ron hoarsely, and turned all scarlet.
Hermione let out a loud snort.
"I asked her!" Ron exclaimed in a whining tone.
"Well, although Weasley here may be aware of the definition of the word 'virgin', he is obviously not familiar with the concept 'lie'," remarked Snape.
Professor Ash cast him a tired look.

"Very well, you three," sighed Professor Ash, trying to keep her voice as businesslike as possible. "Thirty-five points from Gryffindor. Thirty for brewing a potion without permission. And five for Mr. Weasley being childish enough to believe that a sister would tell her elder brother anything truthful about her private life at the age of fourteen. You may go now."
They all positively ran out of the room.

***

"Ginny's! Honestly, Ron!" burst Hermione as soon as they were at safe distance from the dungeon. She was so busy telling off Ron, that she didn't notice Harry's face turning pink, too.
"I have definitely had enough of potion making with you two!"
At the common room she flung herself to her favorite armchair and pulled out a book.
"I said I was sorry," seethed Ron.
"Forget it, Ron," said Harry quietly. "I mean, we still have the summary for homework, and... I think it's at least a bit easier to do now." He smiled sheepishly at Ron, who looked as though something dawned to him.
What was it, he had the decency not to speak out, but his face turned red again.

***

As the students were gone, Ash turned to Snape, who leaned against his desk, his arms folded, looking back at her through his hair with 'what-did-I-say' -expression on his face.
"Oh yes, I suppose you are pleased with yourself," she said heatedly.
"Fine, they made one mistake. One! Now that's unforgivable, isn't it? And we never make any, do we?"
"Ash, if you are accusing me of hypocrisy, I'd like to remind you that you just took those points for something that you are as guilty of," answered Snape calmly.
"Well then, has it ever occurred to you why this potion is impossible to brew by just one person?" asked Ash.
Both Professors glared at each other darkly for a long moment.
"Do you know what, Snape?" she shot at him. "There is a quite usable way of getting to know other person's thoughts and feelings, other than Legilimency. It's called 'conversation'. Commonly known as 'talking'."
Then she swept off, without even shutting the door behind her.

***

The Defense Against the Dark Arts class on the following Monday was not as boring as usual. Professor Ash seemed to be a little apologetic for giving the class such a hard task for homework. So she now made it up to them by telling some horrid, but fascinating stories about wizards and witches who had tried to interpret the recipe and failed.
It was comforting to know, especially for Harry, Ron and Hermione, that they were not the only ones who had done it wrong.

"Can any of you tell me, why does it take at least two persons to brew this potion? There is a reason for it, and this rule was included in the recipe as a kind of an allegory. Any ideas?"
There was an expectant silence.
"Well? Mr. Malfoy, how about letting us hear what you think about it?"
Malfoy glanced sideways at Hermione, who insistently kept her hand down. It seemed that everybody was expecting Malfoy to speak, as he was the one who claimed to have read the book more than once.

"Um... Because the potion was meant to make communication easier," muttered Malfoy after a moment. Professor Ash nodded.
"And?"
"And... Well, it takes more than one person to have a need for any communication in the first place."
"And why would we have to have 'a need for communication'? What's the point of that?" asked the teacher immediately.
"Er, Professor, if you don't mind me asking," drawled Malfoy with a small sneering smile. "But I thought this class was supposed to be 'Defense Against the Dark Arts'. What has all this to do with the subject?"
"No, I don't mind you asking," replied Professor Ash. "Quite the opposite. Five points to Slytherin for your relevant question. Another five for answering my first question correctly."
She turned to face the entire class. The Slytherins were smirking, whereas amongst the Gryffindors there were some disgruntled faces.

"In short: The whole area of the Dark Arts is full of contradictory issues. When on one hand you may find some branches of magic very useful, on the other hand there can be some serious problems with them. You can often use a spell, a curse or a potion for different purposes" - she was speaking more loudly than was her habit - "and this potion is one of the kind. By using it you will gain power; that is for certain. 'Power', however, is... a complicated matter."
She smiled as though for herself. Then she glanced at the clock on the classroom wall.
"We shall deal with the uses of this particular potion more specifically later, as we are running out of time. I can now tell you - you too, Mr. Malfoy - only this: No communication, no problems. No problems, no progress. This is a ridiculous simplification, but the fact is that if we never had any problems, we would not have to solve them, and thus we would probably be stuck in the Stone Age. All right, that will be all for now. Class dismissed."
After this the fifth-years poured out from the classroom, looking somewhat puzzled.

***

Later that evening, when Professor Ash was still in her office reading the students' summaries of the first chapter, somebody knocked on her door.
"It's open," she announced.
She lifted her look from the parchments, gazed towards the door and put her quill down.
"Come in, Snape. What is it?"
Snape stepped in and strolled by the desk. Ash frowned.
"Nice to see you," she said, sounding as though seeing him was anything but nice.
Snape's mouth twisted into a smirk.
"Upon my word, Ash, I never thought of you as such a poor liar," he said with an odd, half derisive, half concerned voice.
"May I?" he picked one of the summary parchments from her desk and viewed it with mild interest.
"I was not lying, and you know it quite well," said Ash simply. "I just prefer manners. Now what is it? I have work to do here."

"Yes... You certainly have," said Snape softly after a pause, still eyeing the parchment.
Without offering any explanation he just threw the parchment back on the desk, turned swiftly on his heels and left the room.
Bewildered by this peculiar visit, Professor Ash gaped at the office door for a moment. Then she sighed, shook her head slightly and picked up her quill again.