Year Six - Chapter Five

Professor Slughorn had a great walrus mustache and a portly belly that seemed to have a will of its own.

It wasn't that I expected him to look like the movies, and I had even seen him at the feast the night before, but at the very least, I would have thought he'd hold some kind of similarities. Instead, it was like looking at a completely different person.

The class wasn't divided by houses, but rather there were so few students that it was unnecessary to do so. While Defense Against the Dark Arts hadn't had the benefit of an extreme selection, Potions was for the few, and the courageous at heart. Thus I stepped inside and took a seat by one of the bubbling cauldrons, Megan and Wayne joining me soon after.

"That cauldron smells just like chocolate," Wayne whispered, sniffing the air by a cauldron with hazy spirals rising up in the air.

I chuckled. "Do you perhaps fancy someone at Honeydukes, Wayne?" I asked. "That's Amortentia, the love potion par excellence. Its smell is a hint of the person your heart knows you love."

"Excellent deduction, Mister Umbrus," Professor Slughorn spoke amiably, smiling as the last ones filtered in. I glanced and waved at the golden trio, who returned the greeting.

"So a drink of that, and I'd end up make someone fall in love?" Wayne asked.

"No," I answered, with enough heat and sharpness that Professor Slughorn's answer died in the man's throat. "You'd give them an obsession, rip their free will out of their minds, and force them to act like nothing more than a puppet to your whims. At the end of it, the moment the potion would wear off, they'd recall everything you did and in the best case, run away. In the worst, they might just murder you." I exhaled, "It's a despicable potion. Between that and a poison, I'd pick the poison."

"Quite right, quite right," Professor Slughorn said, keeping his voice light. "Out of all potions hereby present, that is the most dangerous indeed. Though I do expect you all to vanish the contents of your cauldron after delivering me a practical sample, and to not bring any out. While some lesser variants are indeed a risk at Hogwarts, know that for the most part they are innocuous and not as long-lasting, or powerful, as the real potion of love bubbling away in that cauldron."

He then gestured to the other two cauldrons clearly visible in the room, "Does anyone wish to guess what stands in the other cauldrons?"

Some students, Hermione among them, raised their hands. I did so too, and as Professor Slughorn picked me once more, I answered.

"Polyjuice potion and Veritaserum," I spoke. "One's for the physical alteration of a body into another, provided a piece of hair of the intended target is dipped into the finished product, and the latter is the serum of truth the ministry likes to use when interrogating its witnesses. They are both also quite unreliable potions," I remarked. "For the former, one might make a mistake and end up with a strand of hair not belonging to the intended target, and for the latter, all it does is force the drinker to state the truth as they believe it. It's also ineffective if the user is able to convincingly believe in a lie of their own creation. Someone subjected to hallucinations, for example, would speak of how a dragon flies in front of their face every day even under Veritaserum."

Professor Slughorn nodded, "Excellent indeed. Twenty points for Ravenclaw, Mister Umbrus. And now, it's time for us to get to work." The Felix Felicis bubbled in its cauldron with its merrily golden color, and once a Huffelpuff by the name of Ernie asked what it was, everyone in the class, even Malfoy at the far back, peeked up. Surprisingly, Harry didn't raise a hand for a copy of a book. Perhaps he had achieved an Outstanding in Potions without troubles?

Surprising what one could do by writing evil, really evil fanfiction about a certain Yrrah Rettop.

This still left the problem of the Half-Blood Prince's book. Since I reckoned the first copy would have gone to Harry, it turned out that it would be Ron's pleasure to acquire it.

"It's all scribbled," Ron groaned, my ears perked up for that exact moment. "It's bloody useless-"

"Here," I said instead, floating my book towards him, much to the boy's surprise. "I was waiting for after the lesson to ask Professor Slughorn about it, but it's an old copy Snape allowed me to scribble on in the past years," I lied, blatantly, as I floated that one into my waiting hands. "I was going to swap the books later, so...no harm no foul."

"Thanks mate," Ron said, looking visibly surprised.

"I can't believe you wrote on a school book," Hermione muttered instead, "Or that Snape even allowed it."

I shrugged, wordlessly. "I was there when he did it," Megan said instead, sounding strangely battle-ready, her voice a low whisper. "It was during Potions' practice."

"It's all right," I said, flipping the book in question open to the Draught of Living Death. The scribbling of Professor Snape's younger self barely legible, and yet enough to make an otherwise painful potion into something far, far more painless to deal with. As I got to it, I dimly realized Megan was no fool. She too was glancing at the book in question, and though Hermione's frantic behavior over her potion was making the Gryffindor's fizzy-hair nearly explode, Megan's calm and cool nature outshone her.

I dimly wondered if she had ever been present in the books in the scene, or if the spotlight had always ignored her in favor of Hermione.

Don't worry, Megan, I value your existence and will give you all the spotlight you need to shine. Though this Felix Felicis is going to be mine, because I do feel like having a vial of good luck for twelve hours as something quite necessary to my continued well being.

True to form, Megan's wits were enough that once she was realized what I was doing actually seemed to work, she immediately began to copy my actions. I grinned at her, but since I had a few more seconds of starting advantage, I got through with practiced ease all the way towards the finish line.

"What a tough choice," Professor Slughorn remarked, glancing at both cauldrons. "Mister Umbrus, Miss Jones, you both did an excellent job, there are so little differences I'd be inclined to have you share the Felix, but that wouldn't do," he critically eyed us both, and then finally acquiesced. "Miss Jones, I guess your potion's the clearest. Congratulations, that will be ten points for Hufflepuff and a little bottle of Felix Felicis." He winked. "Do say hello to your aunt, I'm planning on inviting her over for the Slug Club's usual Christmas party. You are, of course, invited."

He then moved away, the lesson over.

I stared, dumbfounded, at the retreating back of the man that was technically supposed to hand me the Felix Felicis due to the Half-Blood prince's meddling.

The hell are you doing, Professor Slughorn? This is clearly a show of favoritism. This is such a biased and clear show of favoritism that if it weren't that I was cheating my way for it, I'd actually feel offended.

"We can share it," Megan whispered as I closed the potions' book and put my stuff away with a simple wave of my hand. "Professor Slughorn's blind. Yours was clearer and further ahead than mine."

I shook my head, and gave her a smile. "You won it, Megan," I grinned. "Just tell me when you go about drinking it. I want to see what happens."

Megan smiled at the thought, and nodded. "I'll do that."

On the way out, we were accosted. It was interesting in how the accosting was done by none other than Draco, who looked like a strange mixture of someone who drank both a sour lemon tea and an equally dangerous Weasley laxative.

"Umbrus," he said. "You really had to go and kill Crabbe's dad didn't you?"

"Well, he tried to kill me, and I just made sure to permanently disallow him the notion of trying again," I answered nonchalantly. "I don't have any intention of starting a purge or a witch hunt for Evil Slytherins or anything like that though, if that's your worry."

"Ah! As if I'd ever be worried," Draco rolled his eyes. "No, it's just-things are complicated in Slytherin," he glanced around. I dimly realized it then, but Draco hadn't even tried to get Slughorn to notice him. This was another bizarre thing that had me puzzled, but perhaps with a bit of coaxing I'd get a straight answer out of Draco himself. "What you said at the train station-is it something I can count on?"

I blinked at that, and then I gave him a slow nod. "Sure, Draco."

"Then-" he was interrupted, of course, by the gracious sledgehammer grace of the trio of dunderheads.

"You trying to finish the j-" Ron began, and then stopped when he realized that I was making a show of going for my wand. "Joke," he said, "The joke that's on me," he rubbed a hand behind his head. "Sorry."

"We'll talk later, Draco," I said with a wink in the boy's direction. "Just let the castle guide you. It will bring you to me."

"Yeah, whatever," Draco rolled his eyes, and then walked away.

He walked away, and alone.

"What did he want?" Harry asked.

"That's a secret, I'm afraid," I said amiably. "Nothing bad, of course. It was nothing bad now, was it?" I turned towards Amanda and Wayne, who both gave helpless shrugs.

"Didn't hear a word," Wayne said. "You know us silly Puffs, when we're not drinking hot chocolate, we ain't really there."

"Now that's not true," Megan huffed in turn, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "It's just that you need to widen your horizons."

Wayne seemed to take offense to that, his eyes widening in disbelief. "There is nothing in life better than chocolate. I'll be putting up my very own Willy Wonka factory with a bunch of House Elves, and then you'll see."

"Willy Wonka also had sugary treats and sweets other than chocolate," Megan finished, sounding triumphant.

"He also had really poor work-safety protocols," I quipped dryly in. We walked away discussing Willy Wonka's factory of harm and dangers, leaving behind us a trio of stupefied Gryffindors that had their questions, would-be or otherwise yet to come, utterly ignored.

I was a Ravenclaw, and could be odd out of House loyalty...

...but the silly Hufflepuffs were loyal to their odd friend, and perhaps that made them all the worthier.