THE DESCENDANT OF SLYTHERIN

CHAPTER 14 : POLYJUICE POTION

HARRY'S POV

The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned what had hitherto been nervousness into real panic. Curiously, it was Nearly Headless Nick's fate that seemed to worry people most. 'What could possibly do that to a ghost?' people asked each other. 'What terrible power could harm someone who was already dead?' There was almost a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express so that students could go home for Christmas. Laia left Hogwarts for Christmas, wishing us to get better and luck with the Polyjuice potion.

"At this rate, we'll be the only ones left," Ron told Hermione and me. "Us, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. What a jolly holiday it's going to be."

Fred and George, however, found all this very funny. They went out of their way to march ahead of me down the corridors, shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through..."

"Yeah, he's off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with his fanged servant," said George, chortling.

Ginny didn't find it amusing either. "Oh, don't," she wailed every time.

I didn't mind; it made me feel better that Fred and George, at least, thought the idea of me being Slytherin's heir was quite ludicrous. But their antics seemed to aggravate Draco Malfoy.

Hermione, the Weasleys, and I had the run of Gryffindor Tower, which meant we could play Exploding Snap loudly without bothering anyone and practice dueling in private. Fred, George, and Ginny had chosen to stay at school rather than visit Bill in Egypt with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Percy, who disapproved of what he termed their childish behavior, didn't spend much time in the Gryffindor common room. He had already told them pompously that he was only staying over Christmas because it was his duty as a prefect to support the teachers during this troubled time.

Christmas morning dawned cold and white. Ron and I, the only ones left in our dormitory, were woken very early by Hermione, who burst in fully dressed and carrying presents for us both.

"Wake up," she said loudly, pulling back the curtains at the window.

"Hermione — you're not supposed to be in here —" said Ron, shielding his eyes against the light.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," said Hermione, throwing him his present.

"I've been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion. It's ready."

I sat up, suddenly wide awake. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," said Hermione, shifting Scabbers the rat so that she could sit down at the end of Ron's four-poster. "If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight."

The Dursleys had sent me a toothpick and a note telling me to find out whether I'd be able to stay at Hogwarts for the summer vacation, too. The rest of the Christmas presents were far more satisfactory. Hagrid had sent me a large tin of treacle toffee, which I decided to soften by the fire before eating. Ron had given me a book called 'Flying with the Cannons', a book of interesting facts about his favorite Quidditch team, and Hermione had bought him a luxury eagle-feather quill. Laia sent me a miniature toy of myself on my Nimbus 2000 (Wow!), with a note: "No matter what broomstick it is, our youngest seeker is the best. Merry Christmas." Sally sent me blue cookies. I opened the last present to find a new hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley and a large plum cake. I read her card with a fresh surge of guilt, thinking about Mr. Weasley's car (which hadn't been seen since its crash with the Whomping Willow) and the bout of rule-breaking Ron and I were planning next.

Ron and I had barely finished our third helpings of Christmas pudding when Hermione ushered us out of the hall to finalize our plans for the evening.

"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into," said Hermione matter-of-factly, as though she were sending us to the supermarket for laundry detergent. "And obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Crabbe's and Goyle's. They're Malfoy's best friends; he'll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him."