THE WITCHING HOUR ➸ h. potter

25 - a tail in the air

Ever since the episode with the pixies, Lockhart had not brought live creatures to our class. Instead, he read parts of his books to us, sometimes even reenacting some of the more dramatic bits. I would have taken the pixies any day.

He usually picked Harry to help him with these reconstructions, and as bad as we felt, none of us were about to step in and volunteer to rescue him.

Today, I was standing outside of his classroom, waiting for Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were trying to get a signed note from him to explore the restricted section of the library. I doubted it would work, but was still curious enough to wait, as the rest of the class hurried off. A few minutes later, I watched the three of them walk towards the door.

"I don't believe it," Harry was saying as he examined the signature on the note. "He didn't even look at the book we wanted."

"That's because he's a brainless git," I cut in, making the three look up. "But who cares, I'm shocked you even managed to get—"

"He is not a brainless git," said Hermione shrilly as they half ran toward the library, me trying to catch up.

"Just because he said you were the best student of the year—" Ron started but dropped his voice as we entered the muffled stillness of the library. Madam Pince, the librarian, was a thin, irritable woman who almost everyone hated, but I understood why she was constantly telling people off for talking in the library better than most.

"Moste Potente Potions?" she asked suspiciously, trying to take the note from Hermione; but Hermione wouldn't let go.

"I was wondering if I could keep it," she said breathlessly.

"Oh, come on," said Ron, wrenching it from her grasp and thrusting it at Madam Pince. "We'll get you another autograph. Lockhart'll sign anything if it stands still long enough."

I stifled a laugh as Madam Pince held the note up to the light, as though determined to detect a forgery, but it passed the test. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and moldy looking book. Hermione put it carefully into her bag as we left, trying not to walk too quickly or look too guilty.

Five minutes later, we were barricaded in Moaning Myrtle's out of order bathroom once again. Hermione had overridden Ron's objections by pointing out that it was the last place anyone in their right minds would go, so we were guaranteed some privacy. Moaning Myrtle was crying noisily in her stall, but we were ignoring her, and she us.

Hermione opened Moste Potente Potions carefully, and the four of us bent over the damp spotted pages. It was clear from a glance why it belonged in the Restricted Section. Some of the potions had effects almost too gruesome to think about, and there were some very unpleasant illustrations in it as well. I looked away as Hermione flipped a few more pages.

"Here it is," said Hermione excitedly as she found the page headed The Polyjuice Potion.

"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen," said Hermione as she scanned the recipe. "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass," she murmured, running her finger down the list of ingredients. "Well, they're easy enough, they're in the student storecupboard, we can help ourselves... Oooh, look, powdered horn of a Bicorn—don't know where we're going to get that—shredded skin of a Boomslang—that'll be tricky, too and of course a bit of whoever we want to change into."

"Excuse me?" said Ron sharply. "What d'you mean, a bit of whoever we're changing into? I'm drinking nothing with Crabbe's toenails in it—"

Hermione continued as though she hadn't heard him. But I was just as concerned as Ron when it came to this matter.

"We don't have to worry about that yet, though, because we add those bits last..."

A sense of nausea took over my body for a few seconds, face paling. "You know... On second thought, Harry, you have that cloak, right? I may just use that. It-It could be handy having someone invisible there as well."

Ron opened his mouth to most likely protest, but Harry nodded. "That's actually a good idea." Whether it was out of pity, or he thought it genuinely was a good idea, I was grateful to get out of having to drink someone else's body-part.