𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐝 {𝐇. 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫}

85

For or the rest of the week's Potions lessons, Harry and Johnny continued to follow the Half-Blood Prince's instructions wherever they deviated from Libatius Borage's, with the result that by their fourth lesson Slughorn was raving about their abilities, saying that he had rarely taught anyone so talented. Neither Ron nor Hermione was delighted by this. Although Harry had offered to share his book with both of them like he was doing with Johnny, Ron had more difficulty deciphering the handwriting than Harry or Johnny did, and couldn't keep asking them to read aloud or it might look suspicious. Hermione, meanwhile, was resolutely plowing on with what she called the "official" instructions, but becoming increasingly bad-tempered as they yielded poorer results than the Prince's.

Johnny wondered vaguely who the Half-Blood Prince had been. Harry was convinced it was a guy.

"Or herself," said Hermione irritably, overhearing Harry pointing some of these out to Ron and Johnny. "It might have been a girl. I think the handwriting looks more like a girl's than a boy's."

"The Half-Blood Prince, he was called," Harry said. "How many girls have been princes?"

Hermione seemed to have no answer to this. She merely scowled and twitched her essay on "The Principles of Rematerialization" away from Ron, who was trying to read it upside down.

Harry looked at his watch and hurriedly put the old copy of Advanced Potion-Making back into his bag. He glanced at Harry and motioned towards the door.

"It's five to eight, we'd better go, we'll be late for Dumbledore."

"Ooooh!" gasped Hermione, looking up at once. She kissed Johnny hurriedly. "Good luck! We'll wait up, we want to hear what he teaches you!"

"Hope it goes okay," said Ron, and the pair of them watched Harry and Johnny leave through the portrait hole.

Harry and Johnny proceeded through deserted corridors, though they had to step hastily behind a statue when Professor Trelawney appeared around a corner, muttering to herself as she shuffled a pack of dirty-looking playing cards, reading them as she walked.

"Two of spades: conflict," she murmured, as she passed the place where Harry and Johnny were hidden. "Seven of spades: an ill omen. Ten of spades: violence. Knave of spades: a dark young man, possibly troubled, one who dislikes the questioner --"

She stopped dead, right on the other side of the statue.

"Well, that can't be right," she said, annoyed, and Johnny heard her reshuffling vigorously as she set off again, leaving nothing but a whiff of cooking sherry behind her. The two boys waited until they were quite sure she had gone, then hurried off again until they reached the spot in the seventh-floor corridor where a single gargoyle stood against the wall.

"She's bloody mental," Johnny huffed, causing Harry to nod. "Acid Pops."

The gargoyle leapt aside; the wall behind it slid apart, and a moving spiral stone staircase was revealed, onto which Harry and Johnny stepped, so that they was carried in smooth circles up to the door with the brass knocker that led to Dumbledore's Office.

Harry knocked.

"Come in," said Dumbledore's voice.

"Good evening, sir," said Harry, walking into the Headmaster's office.

"Evening," Johnny muttered bitterly.

"Ah, good evening, boys. Sit down," said Dumbledore, smiling. "I hope you've had an enjoyable first week back at school?"

"It's been okay, sir," said Johnny.

"Yes, thanks, sir," said Harry.

"Harry must have been busy, a detention under your belt already!"