Chapter 57

Hermione, still wrapped in bandages, painfully limped over to the cooking pot in the centre of the room. She examined it until she saw, engraved near the bottom in tiny letters, "CAST IRON 112 GALLONS." Then she hobbled over to the side of the room and picked up a set of heavy brass scales. Then, with the Minister for Magic, two of her teachers, her headmaster, four senior Ministry officials, and six Aurors watching her intently, she limped over to Snape's desk. Carefully avoiding eye contact with the Potions Master, she placed the heavy measuring scale on the desk with a thud.

Hermione's right arm was in a splint, and Milo could tell that she quickly realized there was no way she'd be able to lift either of the two buckets. She drew her wand.

Six Aurors drew wands simultaneously and aimed steadily at her. Hermione looked like she would die in a panic.

"Peace," Dumbledore said. "She was just, I presume, about to perform a simple Hovering Charm?"

"Featherweight Charm, actually," Hermione said matter-of-factly, although she still looked nervous. "And then a Hovering Charm. You see, the two charms combined are over one-fifth more efficient than a single, more powerful—"

"Nobody asked for a lecture, Miss Granger," Snape snapped.

"Five points for Gryffindor," McGonagall said simultaneously. Upon hearing Snape's remark, she added, "That's really rather clever, Miss Granger."

The Aurors put away their wands, looking somewhat sheepish at having drawn on a twelve year-old girl. The two Heads of Houses glared at each other as. Hermione carefully weighed both buckets (dispelling the Featherweight Charm in the process, of course). Then she nodded at Milo.

"Thanks," he muttered as she walked past him to her earlier position.

"Any time," she said simply. She looked a bit stunned.

"Oh, before you begin," said Bode, "you should probably be informed that a number of anti-cheating enchantments have been placed in this classroom."

Milo paused.

"Explain," he asked.

"Obviously I can't go into too much detail, but suffice to say that we'll be well aware of any magical illusions that you create, or if you try to add anything to the potion without our knowledge."

Milo frowned. This shouldn't cause any problems, he thought. Invisibility is the only Illusion I'll be casting, and it isn't really an Illusion that I create, exactly. That sounds like more of a Figment or Glamer.

Hopefully.

Well, I'd best begin. No time like the present. Pushing his fear and nervousness to the side, Milo tried to emulate the tone of a performing Bard he once heard back in Myra (cityoflight!cityofmagic!).

"All right. Professors, Minister, Officials, Government Goons, just sit back; you're about to see magic done," Milo announced confidently, rolling up his sleeves.

"What does he think he is, a stage magician?" Fudge murmured quietly.

"This reminds me of a time I was in a tavern back in my world," Milo said as he unceremoniously dumped the bucket of thick, slimy Flobberworm mucous into the cauldron. "It was a nice little place, as far as roadside taverns go. Their soup was terrible. It went by the name of Tenser's Floating Disko," he said, casting the spell. Fortunately enough, the story was true. A retired Wizard built the entire establishment hovering two feet off the ground using a copious number of Immovable Rods; The Disko was famed far and wide for its resilience to earthquakes, its Dancing Lights, and its terrible soup.

"Isn't he only eleven?" Fudge asked in astonishment. "What tavern would—"

"But that, of course, was in another world," Milo said, pouring the glycerol into the cauldron. Snape looked as if he were about to duck beneath his desk for cover. Unbeknownst to the audience, the thick liquid hit, instead of the water in the cauldron, Milo's magical disk. "A world which now seems to exist only in the hazy reaches of my memory, and every day seems to be slipping deeper into the murky depths of Invisibility." In the blink of an eye, the glycerol (which, if anyone had looked, would have appeared to be floating in the air inside the darkness of the cauldron) vanished.

Milo grabbed his ladle and dipped it into the cauldron in the area between the force disk and the edge. The pot was so huge that, in order to stir it, he'd have to actually walk around the perimeter of the cast iron monstrosity. When he was about three-quarters of the way around, he began to speak again.

"And this, as you will soon see, was no mere sleight of hand, legerdemain, or," he completed the circuit, "Prestidigitation."

The pot bubbled.

Milo almost couldn't believe that he might actually be getting away with it. He'd made the damned pot bubble, nothing had exploded, and Lucius's plot was foiled. He felt lightheaded. He wanted to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room and celebr—

"Curious," Dumbledore said, raising his half-moon spectacles.

Snape smiled triumphantly.

"In this manner I will, of course, defer to the Potions Master," Dumbledore said, "but... tell me, Severus, does this potion usually bubble?"

Milo froze.

"No doubt, it's bubbling because of how vigorously young Milo wanted his potion to succeed," Snape suggested with amusement. Milo looked around the room in a panic as Snape moved excitedly towards the cauldron to investigate.

It's not supposed to bubble? He'd miscalculated Snape. The devious Potions Master had anticipated Milo's ability to fake the effects of the potion and hadn't told him truthfully what they should, in fact, be.

Milo looked pleadingly at Dumbledore, and then at McGonagall, but neither offered him any help. He was sure to be ousted as a fake wizard and expelled from Hogwarts, falling right into Lucius's (presumably) evil plot (whatever it happened to be). Tap. Tap. Tap. Snape's polished leather loafers made loud, echoing sounds as the greasy Potions Master approached. In blind desperation, Milo looked into the faces of the Minister, his cronies, and even the mooks. I need help, he thought frantically. I need someone who knows what—oh, right.

Catching Hermione's eye, she mouthed it turns purple. Milo had heard that, in the distant past, only Rogues were able to read lips. He was blissfully happy that this was no longer the case.

Fortunately, Prestidigitation (which, in Milo's firm opinion, was the best spell ever invented) could last up to an hour—and it could recolour liquids. The spell wasn't an Illusion (it actually changed the object's colour), so it (hopefully) wouldn't trigger their wards. By the time Snape got to the cauldron, the liquid inside was a pale shade of violet. Milo could feel his heart pounding against his chest as he waited for the anti-cheating alarms to sound. He nearly fainted with relief when nothing happened, although the "potion" still had to pass one more step... Milo just hoped he'd got the shade of purple right.

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