Zephyr

Chapter Nine

Belladonna

"...'to be carefull to see to it and to close it in, that no body enter into the place where it groweth, that wilbe enticed with the beautie of the fruite to eate thereof.'"

Henry Lyte

Students filed into the dungeons as the morning bell sounded for class. The room was filled with soft chatters and mirth. The students were excited, and looked forward to their first weekend back at Hogwarts.

Hermione was in a fairly good mood, owing partly to the fact that Friday had finally arrived, and the rest, to the closing of the first week of the new term.

Tonight was Irma's going-away party, and there were already rumors of it spreading around. No doubt, the children were scheming for after-hour hoaxes and trysts.

Filch was on the prowl.

Hermione was looking forward to the interesting lesson she had planned for her seventh years. On her desk were three different baskets. One was filled with leaves of a darkish green color and purple bell-shaped flowers. The other contained thick, whitish roots as long as 8 inches, and stems. And the last, the most appealing, was a dark Fujian bamboo basket lined with a thin silver cloth. And in it were small dark, plump cherries, from dark plum to black. They were most tempting, and their exquisiteness alone, elicited a series of covetous looks and watering mouths.

As the last of the students filed in, Hermione turned to the blackboard to magically tap onto it the notes and assignment of the day.

Stephen French and his faction of Slytherin conformists sauntered into class with an air of waywardness about them, daring any to look upon them with disagreement or defiance.

The basket of cherries had no doubt caught the wandering eyes of the unruly clique. Stephen motioned for the boys to take a seat whilst he stood precariously at the side of the desk, eyeing the professor and wondering if he dared to pop a cherry or two in his mouth for the sake of entertaining his peers.

The entire class watched anxiously.

Stephen figured he could easily shove the basket down his throat before the professor noticed. He craned his neck round slightly to glance quickly and slyly at his audience.

He lifted the basket of cherries, and turned it around in mock examination. He dug his fingers into the basket, lifting a handful of cherries before letting them fall through his fingers. Stephen took his sweet time as if he did not care less whether he was caught. His Slytherin peers were clearly impressed with his mock performance of Gryffindor bravado.

At last, Stephen took a cherry in his fingers, holding it aloft so the class could witness his savoring it with pleasure. The cherry was close to being devoured when it was snatched suddenly from his grasp.

"I wouldn't eat that if I were you," came a calm, mellow voice.

Caught unawares, Stephen quickly whipped around with a vengeance, seizing the figure's collars immediately before he realized who it was.

Stephen French stood nose to nose with Nicolas Thierry. The new student was the last person he expected to see, but he refrained from releasing his grip, anyhow. He stared daringly against Nicolas' calm, yet disenchanted eyes.

Hermione had now turned from her blackboard to see what all the commotion was about. She saw Stephen French collaring her new student, Nicolas while he held one of her cherries carefully between his fingers.

She saw the tension mounting between the two students and was about to interject when Stephen released Nicolas from his grip.

"What the hell is your problem?" Stephen snapped.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were going to consume the cherry," Nicolas responded calmly.

"I was!"

"Well, you do understand that--"

"Just get out of my way!" French rejoined as he shoved the newcomer to the side.

"It wasn't my intention to humiliate you," Nicolas continued.

Repulsed with the foreign student's composedness and genteel mannerisms, Stephen poked his fingers into Nicolas' chest before grabbing for his wand.

Hermione then interjected and stood between the two young men.

"Enough! This sort of behavior is absolutely not accepted in my class. Now, what is going on here?"

Neither student responded. "Mr. French, I don't remember ever giving you or anyone permission to eat the cherries from the basket."

"You didn't forbid it, either," he retorted bitterly with his eyes still set on Nicolas.

"Obstinacy is hardly flattering, Mr. French. Had you consumed the cherry you would've most likely been poisoned. You should thank Mr. Thierry, who was kind enough to spare you that embarrassing ordeal." This, of course only elicited derision from the heated Slytherin.

"They hardly looked poisonous, Professor, and why would you have them in a basket if not to pass them around for consumption?"

"I'm not here to bring you treats or cherries, Mr. French. They're for your lesson."

"Sure," he muttered as he headed for his seat.

Nicolas remained standing at the front of her desk. He did not seem to notice her studying him. He stood in a leisurely stance with a vague expression on his face. He was clearly oblivious to his surroundings and those around him.

Hermione examined him closely, wondering what on earth he was thinking about. She saw him staring at the baskets on her desk and its contents. Her student's peculiar behavior began to worry her, and she started when he grabbed for the basket of leaves and flowers.

"No," she said quickly as she tried to prevent her student from touching the contents of the basket. "They're poisonous, Mr. Thierry, they're--

"Belladonnas," he said softly. "I know."

Hermione was slightly taken aback. "You are familiar with this plant?"

"I am most familiar with this Atropas Belladonna," he replied quietly still keeping his eyes on the slightly poisonous bell flowers in his hands.

"That is very good to hear, Mr. Thierry. Not too many students are familiar with the ingredient in its botanical form. It's usually given to them after it is prepared--powdered roots and leaves, fluid extract leaves, alcoholic extracts, and such."

"You'll find that I have somewhat of an obsession with this plant, professor." Hermione looked at her student intently when he said this. A student professing his obsession with a pernicious plant was hardly something to overlook.

Hermione could barely hear him due to the buzz of excitement that surged through the room as the students stood around and exchanged weekend plans before class began. They learned to take advantage of the opportunity when their Potions Mistress was poised in chatty conversation. They paid no heed to her and took the time to exchange as much as they could with each other while she was distracted.

Hermione was too concerned with Nicolas' interest in the Deadly Nightshade to ignore his remark.

"An obsession?" she inquired softly.

Nicolas Thierry snapped out of his state of subliminal serenity when the realization of what he had said hit him. "Yes," he replied quickly. "I should blame my grandfather. It was his obsession with the plant that also had me fixated.

"How so?"

"He named my mother Belladonna. My grandmother was afraid he would name me Atropas." A soft smile flitted over Hermione's face.

"What was it about the Belladonna that intrigued him so?"

"I think it was that very reason: it was intriguing. To find a rare plant that is so exquisite yet pernicious and useful in so many ways was appealing to him. Most of his work was based solely around this plant. It was all he talked about. But then, of course he was a strange man," smiled Nicolas.

"There's nothing strange about finding an interest in something and dedicating yourself to it."

"His obsession with the plant drove him mad," Nicolas stated sternly. "It destroyed our lives and broke up my family," he said without quite realizing it.

His face changed as he spoke and Hermione, for the second time, found herself in a conversation with the new student that made her feel slightly uncomfortable.

Nicolas realized this and quickly changed the subject. "I'm looking forward to today's lesson, Professor. The properties of the Belladonna are always an interesting subject."

"Thank you, Mr. Thierry." Hermione could now hardly wait to begin her lesson. She only hoped the rest of the class would be as enthused as Mr. Thierry.

Nicolas returned to his seat as she motioned for class to begin.

"Settle down! I have on my desk three baskets," Hermione stated. She wasted no time at all with beginning her lesson. "I will pass them around for everyone to look at. You are not to touch the contents of these baskets. Just look and observe, then pass it to the student next to you."

Hermione handed the three baskets to three students in the front row. They examined the contents before passing it on to the next student. After a few minutes, the baskets were brought back to the front, and Hermione waited for the murmurs to calm down before she continued.

"These leaves, roots, and cherries are properties of an important ingredient in potions-making. It has many names as well as uses. The root is poisonous, and the leaves and cherries less so." Hermione carefully lifted up a large chunk of the whitish root for the class to see. She had grasped the attention of the class just as she had hoped she would with her lesson. She cautiously put the root back into the basket.

"Can anybody tell me what this plant is? It's not difficult," she added when she received nothing more than a series of huffs and exhausted expressions from the class. "You've used them before, though not before they were prepared."

"They look like ordinary cherries to me," said Lydia Beaverton, a Gryffindor.

"Well, they're not exactly ordinary, Miss Beaverton. These cherries as well as the plant bear a very bad character of being poisonous. It is very exquisite, and it is this very reason that it attracts so many people, especially children. Can someone tell me the name of this plant?"

Silence had at last pervaded the dungeons. Hermione gazed circumspectly at her unmoved group of students and felt the high she had experienced a moment ago quickly decline. Not only was she being ignored but Hermione had the dreadful feeling that most her students had no idea of what she was talking about. It also seemed to her that they were deliberately disregarding her simply to complicate things for her.

"All right, then! Mr. Radcliffe, give it a shot! I can list at least 10 different names that are synonymous to this plant, you're bound to get one of them," she said disconcerted.

Mr. Radcliffe looked up disconcerted as well given the several counts of Slytherins in the class she could have picked on. Daniel shifted uneasily in his chair suppressing the desire to declare her disloyalty to the students of their house.

"Mr. Radcliffe?"

"I don't have a clue, Professor. But I'm sure the brilliant members of the sly--I mean Slytherin house might."

"Well, it's no surprise you Gryffindors are so dense," French retaliated. "Your brash valiance clearly makes up for your lack of brain power."

"That would've been perfect coming from you, French, were you clever yourself."

"That's enough!" Hermione interposed once again. "I have had enough of these foolish spats for the day. Whatever your problems, settle them elsewhere. Why are you all here if not to waste my time? I asked a simple question and all it elicited was your immaturity.

"I am speaking to all of you. Don't think that I am not aware of what you are all doing--ignoring my queries to punish me, because you believe me to be harsh; how else will you learn anything if you only come here to ignore my lessons? I am ashamed and irritated with your behaviors. And were you not all asked to right an extensive essay on the properties of the Belladonna on Tuesday? Why haven't any of you guessed then, that these are all the properties of that very same plant? Is it so difficult to remember a single essay you wrote only a few days ago?"

The stress and hassle that was riding on Hermione since the beginning of the week was finally taking effect on her students. She had promised herself that her personal life would never affect the way she taught or treated her students, but the strain from the week's events was too much for her to suppress. She understood that her students deserved to be reprimanded for their immature behaviors but she felt she may have gone a tad bit overboard with the harsh remarks.

The entire class was clearly taken aback with her sudden outburst. She was one they had pictured to be strict and solemn. Her little flare-up was clearly unexpected.

Hermione released a ragged breath as she calmed herself and collected her thoughts.

"Now, the Atropas Belladonna is a solanaceous plant of the Nightshade family. It is sometimes known as the Deadly Nightshade. There are many medicinal uses as well as different names which you all would have known by now had you paid attention to Tuesday's homework assignment. Some know it as the Devil's Herb, Naughty Man's cherries, Dwayberry, Great Morel, and many others.

"The deadly nightshade has become a rare ingredient of late. It is very hard to come by and we are all lucky to have these baskets of roots and flowers for our class today. I ordered it at the beginning of the summer and received it only last week."

"We don't grow it in the greenhouse?" asked a timid Miss Mae.

"No, we don't grow this plant here anymore. It is very difficult to cultivate and it grows only in certain areas. It is usually confined to calcareous soils and is more likely to develop the highest percentage of alkaloid when grown properly. Therefore, farmers of the southern countries benefit well from the farming of this plant. Of course, with Professor Sprout's skills and knowledge with herbs and plants it is possible to cultivate the plant here at Hogwarts, but the Ministry has forbidden the fostering of this plant where it is not naturally grown for various reasons."

"Various reasons?" inquired a curious student.

"What makes it so poisonous?" Miss Mae asked again.

"And the alkaloid," asked another student, "is that what makes this plant so important?"

"Okay, slow down," Hermione said gratefully, "one at a time." She guessed her 'little' speech was paying off after all. "Yes," she continued, "it is one of the reasons this plant is very useful. The medicinal properties of the Belladonna depend on the hyoscyamine and atropine present in this plant. Hyoscyamine is a poisonous crystalline alkaloid and atropine is the racemic mixture of this alkaloid. That is why the farming of these plants in the right places is essential because when grown properly it develops a high percentage of alkaloid.

"The Belladonna is the source ingredient in many if not most ocular potions. The atropine dilates the pupil and will have this effect no matter how one uses it. The Nightshade is the most valuable plant in the treatment of eye diseases. Can someone tell me the other medicinal uses of this plant? Think back to your assignments for Tuesday night. What do you remember this plant to be used for?"

After a moment of hesitation a few students reluctantly yet eagerly, she noticed, raised their hands.

"Mr. Adams!"

"I remember it being used as a narcotic or sedative, Professor."

"Good, what else can you tell me?"

"Well, it is also," his voice began to wane, "I mean it has been used as a diuretic--t-to increase urine dis...charge." This extracted a series of loud exclamations from the class.

"Eww, nasty!" said one Slytherin.

"For gods sake, Adams" said another, "it's barely even noon and you're already on about urine discharge."

"Yeah, what is it with you and bodily fluid," remarked Lydia Bird.

Despite all the complaints, it seemed to Hermione that the class was still surprisingly entertained. She had grasped the interest of her students and they were, as far as she could tell, paying attention.

"Urinal discharge, Professor?" drawled Miss Grey. "I thought we were supposed to be learning about 'the correct ways to stir a potion'," she said with forced simplicity.

"You can't brew a potion, Miss Grey, if you don't know what you're brewing it for. Had you a urinal infection, you could, in your own time and discretion brew your own potion to heal the infectivity. It would save you a lot of time and humiliation. Wouldn't you agree?"

This was a very shrewd hit. Hermione had learned the previous year that Miss Grey had somewhat of a bladder infection. She was asked by Poppy to brew a specific potion that called for the very same plant.

Miss Grey as well as a few others understood then that she was not the only one who dared to be irritatingly caustic.

The rest of the class went fairly well, Hermione thought. She was sure her students left learning at least one thing about the plant. She had covered enough on it to turn any of them into skilled criminals. She only hoped they would not get any ideas. She was sure the farming and growing of the plant was banned by the Ministry for a reason.

"Don't forget the quiz next week," Hermione called out as her students absconded from the class. She was stowing her notes away when the soft clearing of a throat started her. Hermione looked up to see Miss Mae standing shyly at the head of her desk with her hands folded demurely behind her.

"Can I help you, Miss Mae?"

After shifting her weight a few times, Ehlaan, speaking with reserve, mustered up the courage to ask for help. "I-I was wondering, Professor, since, potions-making is not...really one of my fortes, if you, I mean, if you have the time--you could help me after class or break, or even at night--tonight maybe to be better at it, you know, like a r-remedial Potions. It's my last year and I want to be as good as I can be," she said this quickly.

"Tonight? Tonight's not really a good time, Miss Mae."

"Oh!" she said quickly as she turned to run out of class. "It's okay then."

"Miss Mae, wait! I want to help you. I'm glad you came to me for help."

"But you said--"

"Tonight's not a good time, Ehlaana," she said abandoning all formalities, "because we're throwing a going-away party for Madame Pince. She's going on family leave and won't be back for 6 months. I have to be there tonight, you see."

"Oh," Ehlaana said relieved. "Okay, then whenever you have time. But if you could be discreet, Professor--"

"If you want," came a guttural voice, "I could help you." Hermione and Ehlaana turned quickly towards the source of the voice. Nicolas was standing beneath the doorway, listening to their conversation. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop. But I'm not doing anything tonight or this weekend. I would love to help you or be your study partner if you'd like, and maybe in return you could show me around the castle and help me find my way around. If you'd like, of course."

"Well, that's a great idea, Mr. Thierry. I'm sure Ehlaana would love for you to help her." Ehlaana did not say anything or look at either Hermione or Nicolas. She was flushing from one ear to the other.

"Miss Mae?"

"Yes, that would be good, thank you," she said hastily before she practically ran out of the dungeons. Hermione and Nicolas exchanged a light laugh after she left.

"Thank you, Mr. Thierry. I really appreciate this."

Nicolas placed his books on her desk as he took a seat atop one of the other desks. "It's no problem," he replied. "I'm very fond of her."

"Really? How so?"

"She reminds me of my childhood friend, that's all."

Hermione and he exchanged a smile. She was glad for Ehlaana, she guessed her student would end up with her own 'Harry' after all, even with the absence of a 'Ron'. "Well, I'm sure she appreciates your help. You'll find that she's a really sweet girl."

"Yes, I've no doubt. This party tonight, is for a Madame Pince, you say?" Hermione was slightly surprised with the sudden change of subject, but thought nothing more of it.

"Yes, she's your librarian."

"Everyone will be there?"

"Just the staff."

"And who will keep an eye on the students?"

"We have the Head girl and boy as well as prefects. Plus, you'll find that here at Hogwarts, no matter what you're doing, there's always someone watching."

"It's funny you say that, Professor," he smiled, "because, since I arrived here, I have always had that feeling."

"Well, that's Hogwarts for you. How do you like it so far?" Nicolas shifted in his seat whilst he circled his forefinger on the tip of his thumb before responding. He seemed to be deep in thoughts while she was expecting a response from him. "Mr. Thierry?"

"Hmm?" Nicolas quickly looked up as her question finally registered in his mind. "Oh, sorry; yes, it's very different from my old school. But I'm sure I'll adjust."

"How are your classes?"

"They're fine. I like my professors. I've had very interesting conversations with some of them."

"Just some?"

"Well, they're not all conversationalists," he said softly. After a moment of pondering, Hermione understood whom he was referring to.

"I see you've met Professor Snape," she said with slight bitterness.

"He's a very singular person, I've noticed. He's very intereseting, is he not?"

"You'll find many interesting things here at Hogwarts, Mr. Thierry."

"Does he always make his students cringe by simply looking at them?" he asked with obvious interest.

Hermione took a moment before replying. She was careful to answer her new student without letting anything slip. She did not want to give him the idea that she, like most of her students, disliked him as well.

"I would consider that one of Professor Snape's great qualities," she said. But his ability to make his students cringe, Mr. Thierry, is the least of your worries. Keep to yourself, study, and stay out of trouble--

"And that would get me on his good side, I suppose?"

As if being at the top of the class and staying out of trouble would keep one from getting on Snape's bad side, Hermione assuaged the new student that it would indeed earn him the infamous professor's reverence. It was obvious that he slightly disliked Snape and she couldn't help but notice it. But she did not want to scare her new foreign student with Snape's mordant qualities.

"I assure you, Mr. Thierry, that Professor Snape is extremely good at his job, despite his student's opinions of him." This was very irritating for her to say, but Hermione found herself hating Severus less and less each day. It was due to the fact that she was slowly and willingly letting go of him.

Nicolas could not help but notice the tautness of his Potions mistress' face as she complimented his Professor. It seemed that she also disliked the Defense against the Dark Arts professor, but he refrained from commenting on it.

"Well, professor, I should be off. I'll need to find Miss Mae and ask her where we should meet tonight."

"Right. Well, you two could study in here if you'd like. I'll be at the party and the students will be in their common rooms. You should not be disturbed here. I can ward the doors after you two arrive. How's that?"

A knock sounded at the door and startled Hermione. Remus came in and stopped at the door after he realized she was talking with her student.

Nicolas saw it as his cue to leave. "I'm sure that'll be fine, Professor. I'll go and find Miss Mae and tell her."

"Very well, then," she concluded. "Good day."

Nicolas lingered for a moment before leaving. He seemed as if he had something else to say, but when she looked up he simply smiled, nodded, and left.

"Everything all right?" asked Remus after Nicolas was out of ear shot.

"Yes. He's helping Ehlaana tonight with Potions.

"Well, that's good. Anyways, I came to tell you that Hagrid asked if you could come down to his hut today and show him how to prepare the graveweed potion. His boarhound's taken ill and he hasn't left his hut since yesterday."

"He's retrieved all the needed ingredients from April then, I suppose?"

"That's what he said."

"Sure. I'll come during lunch."

"I'll go down and tell him right now, then."

Remus left Hermione's dungeons as her next class began to file in. At lunch, just as she had informed Remus, Hermione made her way down to Hagrid's hut with a cauldron and extra ingredients just in case Hagrid forgot some.

It was while she was walking down to Hagrid's hut that Hermione saw something strange. Across the lawn on the high Slytherin tower on the outer niche of one its windows, perched a large grey owl. It sat unmoved and abnormally still. She would have thought it dead had it toppled over and off its perch. But it remained there as if it were waiting for something to happen or someone to come. Hermione did not realize that she had spent a great deal of time watching the owl when another thought crossed her mind.

It had never occurred to her before and she never understood why she never thought of it until now, but Hermione suddenly remembered something strange that she had seen once, a long time ago. She had disregarded its presence countless numbers of time when she thought back to the events of that day, and now that she had thought about it--

"My gods, how could I have overlooked it?" she exclaimed.

She realized then, that she may have been deceived again for the hundredth time.

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