Chapter 102

Chapter 102

Hermione sat cross-legged with Moste Potente Potions open to the page on Polyjuice Potion, carefully studying the recipe. An illustration showed several people changing into someone else.

Dense lines of text filled most of the page.

Harry could understand some of it. Ron read for a while, then grew dizzy and retreated to one side.

“Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed and knotgrass. I remember seeing all of those in the student store cupboard.” Hermione ran a finger lightly down the list of ingredients, deep in thought.

“The difficult ones are the horn of a bicorn–a bull-like creature devoted to its wife, whose sole food is virgin men–and boomslang skin.”

“How are you going to get those?” Suer asked. “Boomslang skin is essential. There’s no substitute for it.”

“Don’t worry. We know one place that will definitely have some,” Harry said confidently.

Suer’s expression turned peculiar. He had thought of the same place. “You aren’t planning to steal it from Professor Snape’s private stores, are you?”

“How did you know?” Harry stared at him in surprise.

“For the record, I’ve never thought breaking into Snape’s private stores was a good idea,” Ron said, moving closer.

“If you’re scared and want to back out now, that’s fine.” Hermione closed the book. “You know I don’t like breaking school rules. Secretly brewing a potion, stealing from a professor, wandering the castle at night and everything else… We’d be breaking at least fifty rules.”

“I can return the book to Madam Pince right now.”

Harry and Ron fell silent. In the end, Ron clenched his teeth. What Malfoy was threatening to do was far worse than brewing one difficult potion.

“All right, then. Let’s do it…”

“How long does this potion take to brew?” Harry asked.

Hermione opened the book again and read aloud. “Let’s see. Fluxweed has to be picked at the full moon to be most effective, and the lacewing flies have to be stewed for at least twenty days… It will take about a month.”

“A month?” Ron asked in disbelief. “A month is more than enough time for Malfoy to kill every Muggle-born wizard in the castle…”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, and Ron immediately yielded. “Fine. Then we’d better get started.”

Suer had been watching the three of them talk. He sighed and said, “You know, there’s no need to risk breaking into Snape’s private stores.”

“Boomslang skin is actually easy enough to buy, and I know where to get a bicorn horn.”

Three pairs of eyes swung towards him at once.

“We don’t have the money,” Hermione said. “Those things are expensive.”

“One of us does.” Suer looked at Harry. He had money too, of course, but the contents of his vault at Gringotts Wizarding Bank seemed meagre beside Harry’s mountain of gold.

When there was a rich man in the group, naturally they ought to make use of him.

“I do have money…” Harry nodded. “But we can’t leave school, and we don’t know where to buy any of it.”

“There’s someone who can buy it for us.” Suer smiled. “And he already has a bicorn horn. I saw it there last time.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at one another.

They spoke in unison.

“Hagrid!”

“Exactly.” Suer nodded.

“If Hagrid asks what we want the boomslang skin for, how are we supposed to keep it from him? We can’t tell a fifth person about this.”

“Simple. We ask him to buy several other things as well, and that will muddy the waters,” Suer said. “Besides, Hagrid won’t ask too many questions.”

“Leave it to me. I’ll go and see Hagrid.”
…

“Boomslang skin, mature Mandrake leaves, a death’s-head hawk moth pupa, moonstone, fluxweed picked at the full moon… What do you need all this for?”

Hagrid gave Suer an odd look. “Far as I know, some of these things cost a fair bit.”

“I want to brew a few potions,” Suer said without changing expression. “Professor Snape mentioned some interesting ones in class, and I thought I’d try them.”

“You know we aren’t allowed to leave the school whenever we please, Hagrid, so…” As he spoke, Suer glanced casually at the wall behind Hagrid, where a horn happened to be hanging.

“All right, I can get these for yeh.” Hagrid believed him. He carefully folded the note and tucked it into his pocket. “As it happens, I’m going ter Hogsmeade tomorrow, after the Quidditch match.”

“Then I’ll leave it to you, Hagrid. You’re a wonderful person.” Suer pressed his palms together in gratitude.

“Ha ha ha, no need ter thank me. I’ll be there anyway,” Hagrid said with a booming laugh. “How’s Harry these days? Haven’t seen him round here in ages.”

“He’s fine,” Suer said lightly. “Something happened in the castle a few days ago, and now a lot of people think Harry is the Heir of Slytherin.”

“Rubbish! Harry’s a Gryffindor. His mum and dad were both Gryffindors.” Hagrid’s moustache bristled as he loudly refuted the idea.

“We think it’s only a rumour too,” Suer agreed.

The two of them chatted for a while. Suer gave Fang’s ears a final rub, then left Hagrid’s hut. Once all the ingredients had been bought, Hagrid would send an owl to let him know.

At a little after ten on Saturday morning, everyone streamed out of the castle.

Today brought the destined clash between Gryffindor and Slytherin, a passionate contest between two Houses that had been rivals for centuries.

Everyone was eager to see the result. A Slytherin student had even opened a betting book, with considerably better odds on a Gryffindor victory than on Slytherin.

Suer joined in, placing five Galleons on Gryffindor.

Most of the money, however, favoured Slytherin. Thanks to the publicity surrounding a certain Slytherin Seeker who had bought his way onto the team, everyone knew that every Slytherin player would be riding a Nimbus 2001 today.

The weather did not look promising. The air was hot and humid, and faint thunder rolled within the heavy clouds.

But none of that could dampen the young wizards’ enthusiasm.

Everyone had a team to support. They talked loudly and shouted encouragement.

Emerald serpent banners and golden lion banners snapped over the two sections of the stands.

“On my whistle!” As usual, Madam Hooch recited the rules to both teams before the match. She kicked open the crate containing the balls and released the Golden Snitch from an exquisite little box.

“Three–two–”

Shrill!

She blew hard on her whistle.

The crowd erupted, cheering the players into the air. All fourteen shot into the leaden sky at once. Harry streaked straight to the highest point, with Malfoy close behind him.

Lee Jordan’s impassioned commentary rang out.

“Slytherin have brought in a new Seeker this year. I hear his father supplied every member of the team with a Nimbus 2001. Honestly, what a disgraceful waste of money,” Jordan said, his voice dripping with mockery.

“But I am sure superior equipment could never defeat brave Gryffindor. Quidditch is decided by skill, not by Galleons…”

“Ahem, ahem.”

Professor McGonagall’s cough sounded at once.

Suer thought she was going to cough up a lung. After a burst of shrill interference, Jordan’s commentary finally returned to the match itself.