Beautiful World by Lissadiane

part two

Hermione was on one side, Ron on the other, and they were arguing over Harry's head about something Harry didn't bother to listen to. They'd been doing that all year, arguing over his head. Ron had always been taller than Harry, and Hermione had grown a lot over the summer. Now she was tall, though her hair was still bushy and she was still very skinny. Harry had hardly grown at all. Still small, slight, pale, with wild dark hair, and enough facial hair to merit shaving once a week. But he didn't care. He didn't care about much, really.

Including Potions, which was where they were walking to the second time Harry nearly died that day. They were walking down a flight of stairs when it started to change, swinging to the left. Hermione and Ron, used to this behavior by now, stopped and continued their argument standing still, waiting patiently for the stairs to come to a stop.

Harry didn't notice, and nearly walked right off the end.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked, and his stride faltered as he glanced over his shoulder.

"What?"

"Watch it! The stairs are moving."

"Oh." He glanced around, vaguely surprised. Then he glanced down and saw that one more step would have sent him over the edge. Oh.

"Didn't you notice, Harry?" Ron asked, frowning, as the staircase stopped changing and they continued on their way.

"You nearly died, Harry!" Hermione cried.

"At least dying would be real," Harry mumbled, too quietly for her to hear.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione worried, touching his arm hesitantly.

"One more today and I'll be fine," he mumbled.

"One more what?" asked Ron.

Harry didn't reply. One more brush with death, of course. Because Harry had by now noticed that they were coming three a day. And this was the third day. Maybe the third time on the third day would have some sort of significance, and maybe he'd actually die.

Strangely, Harry smiled for the first time that day at the prospect.

Three times the charm, after all.

"This," Snape said, moments later, as he slammed a large jar full of olive green pickling fluid on his desk, "is a flesh eating slug. Dead, of course." There was a chorus of 'eews' from the class, even a few Slytherins looking ill at the sight of the slug, which was roughly the size of one of Harry's trainers, a bloated sort of black colour with a sheen of yellowy green. Its underside was pressed against the side of the jar and they could see its mouth, a perfectly round hole rimmed with three rows of needle-like teeth meant to rip flesh from bones. "Quite nasty creatures, and quite common. Flesh eating slug repellent is quite useful for keeping them away, but it's useless in getting rid of them once they're already present. Today, you will learn to brew flesh eating slug pesticide."

He always said it that way. Today you will learn. Not today I will teach you, or today you will attempt to brew. It was always you will learn. Or I will punish you.

He explained the potion's properties (instant death to any slug it touches) and described the properties of each of the ingredients, ending his lecture with, "You are brewing the condensed form, if this potion were to actually be used, it would be mixed one part to four water. It is quite toxic, so kindly refrain from drinking it. Anyone who loses their Pesker Pod will also lose one hundred house points. Get to work."