Taming The Serpent [Tom Riddle/Tomione]

20. Unforgivable

The next day, as the sixth years Ravenclaws and Slytherins strolled their way down to Potions, Hermione struggled to always be at least a few feet away from a certain snake. She followed inside the dimly lit classroom behind Penelope and Cepheus and walked to her usual table at the back, where she sat down next to Penelope and ignored the huffy, irritable noises now issuing from Abraxas Malfoy and a couple other Slytherins, two seats across from her.

"Settle down, children." said Slughorn, shutting the door behind him. "Before we begin today's lesson," he continued, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. I know some of you will make me very proud..."

His gaze lingered on Riddle, and he beamed excitedly, winking at the dark haired boy, who returned a small smirk.

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing."

Hermione sat up a little straighter, her expression one of utmost attention. "The ingredients and method—" Slughorn flicked his wand "--are on the blackboard. You will find everything you need in the store cupboard. You have an hour and a half ... Good luck, and you may start."

The ingredients had to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantities; the mixture had to be stirred exactly the right number of times, firstly in clockwise, then in anti-clockwise directions; the heat of the flames on which it was simmering had to be lowered to exactly the right level for a specific number of minutes before the final ingredient was added.

"A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion," called Slughorn, with ten minutes left to go. He began to inspect each caldron occasionally grimacing at the student or smiling approvingly.

Hermione, who was sweating profusely, looked desperately around the dungeon. Cepheus' cauldron was issuing copious amounts of dark grey steam; Penelope's was spitting orange sparks. The surface of Riddle's potion, however, was a shimmering mist of silver vapour, and as Slughorn swept by he looked down with his bulging eyes at it without comment, but gave him one of his best smiles, patting him on the shoulder.

Hermione closed her eyes and prepared herself to get a T (for Troll) - the worst grade in her life. Then, Amycus' caldron exploded, causing a few giggles at the front of the classroom from both houses. "Settle down. "Said Slughorn as he moved to the front to aid a very irritated Amycus.

Riddle scooted closer to Hermione and looked down at her caldron with a horrible smirk on his face. "Lockhart, what is this supposed to be?"

"The Draught of Peace," said Hermione nervously.

"Tell me, Lockhart,' said Riddle smugly, "can you read?"

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed in both confusion and anger. "Yes, I can." She said, her fingers clenched tightly around her wand.

"Looks to me, you've forgotten to add powdered unicorn horn." 

Her heart sank. She nervously looked around her table and sure enough, a small container with powdered unicorn horn stood there, unused.

"This is why they shouldn't let mudbloods in our school..." Lestrange mumbled, causing Malfoy to chuckle noisily. Hermione's eyes immediately shot to Riddle, who had been staring blankly at her.