Chapter 63: Potions Class Scandal

Since the first attack on Halloween night, Harry had felt like the first half of November had been nonstop. Even more frustrating was that, looking back, none of the things he’d been busy with had yielded any results.

During Wednesday’s Potions class, Harry was searching the student supply cabinets for the ingredients he needed, wondering why there were barely any leeches left in decent condition. Just as he was struggling with this, Malfoy sidled up beside him.

“Harry, the second Round Table meeting is at seven this Sunday night, same place,” he whispered.

“Thanks for reminding me—I’ll sneak in and listen,” Harry nodded to him.

As Harry returned to his seat and prepared to process the ingredients and brew the Swelling Solution, he suddenly heard a crackling sound and whipped his head toward its source.

It was Malfoy’s cauldron—somehow it had begun to boil over, splattering potion everywhere; students screamed, terrified of getting the Swelling Solution on themselves.

Malfoy’s face turned ashen; his nose swelled like a balloon. Goyle stumbled around, clutching his eyes. Just as Snape was trying to restore order and figure out what had happened, Goyle crashed into him. Amid the chaos, Harry saw Hermione slip out the door.

“Silence! Silence!” Snape roared. “Anyone splashed, come here for ointment. If I find out who did this—”

When Harry saw Malfoy trudging forward with his nose swollen like a melon, he barely held back a laugh. More than half the class surged onto Snape’s desk. Some had arms swollen like clubs, unable to lift them; others had lips so puffed they couldn’t speak. Then Harry noticed Hermione slipping back in.

After everyone had drunk the antidote and taken the swelling-reducing pills, Snape walked over to Malfoy’s cauldron and picked up a blackened lump left behind after the explosion. Suddenly, the room fell silent.

“If I knew who threw this,” Snape said in a low, dangerous tone, “I would expel them.”

Just as Harry leaned forward curiously to see what it was, Snape suddenly said, “Potter, stay after class.”

After a distracted Potions lesson, Harry arrived at Snape’s office with a puzzled expression.

“I want to know, Potter,” he asked quietly, “what ingredients are unicorn horn and African tree snake skin used for?”

“As far as I know, only Polyjuice Potion, Professor,” Harry said. “It’s written in the book you had me borrow.”

“Then I think your nerve is rather excessive,” Snape’s face darkened. “You knew I had you borrow that book—and yet you still stole these two ingredients from my private cabinet.”

“It wasn’t me, Professor,” Harry protested. “I’ve always believed stealing isn’t right.”

“Is that so?” Snape gave him a sidelong glance. “Then tell me—how do you brew Polyjuice Potion?”

“According to the book, we need three portions of fluxweed picked at full moon, then simmer the leeches for twenty days,” Harry thought carefully—he’d read the book, so pretending ignorance in front of Snape wouldn’t work.

“Good. Go on. Let me see how much you remember.” Harry didn’t notice that Snape’s tone had grown almost relaxed.

“First, add the three portions of fluxweed and two bundles of knotgrass in sequence, stir clockwise three times, wave your wand, and simmer for sixty minutes,” Harry recalled from the book. “The time depends on the cauldron’s changes—I think mine only needs sixty minutes.”

“Second step…” Harry continued, watching Snape’s eyes grow brighter.

“Enough,” he said. “You remembered the brewing steps accurately after reading the book. That suggests your talent is better than I originally thought.”

Harry scratched his head, slightly embarrassed. Since getting the Jumping Cauldron, whenever it came to Potions, he always felt compelled to excel—like he had to perform brilliantly to avoid disgracing his ancestors.

“Experimenting with potions beyond the textbook,” Snape said, pulling something from his cabinet, “is every talented student’s privilege.”

Harry stared in surprise at the unicorn horn and African tree snake skin in his hands—Snape was wrapping them in cloth. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate classroom disruptions.”

“Find the student who caused the disruption, and I’ll give you enough ingredients to brew Polyjuice Potion,” Snape whispered.

Harry’s spirits lifted—he was eager to try brewing the difficult Polyjuice Potion. But then he remembered Hermione slipping out during class. If she’d stolen the ingredients, he might not be so eager to expose her.

After lunch, Harry intercepted Hermione, who was carrying books up to the second floor.

“I want to know, Hermione,” Harry asked, “what were you doing sneaking out during class today?”

“I just went to the bathroom,” she said nervously.

“Really? But some unicorn horn and African tree snake skin went missing from Snape’s cabinet—and he suspects me,” Harry said, his tone weary.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Hermione lowered her head, biting her lip. “But it wasn’t me.”

“What do you want to use Polyjuice Potion for?” Harry asked, puzzled. “Who are you trying to turn into?”

“How did you know…” She slipped up, flustered, but still insisted, “I didn’t steal anything from his office.”

“Calm down, Hermione,” Harry scratched his head. “I just want to know what you’re planning—as long as it’s not something bad.”

Hermione only knew that Neville had told her Malfoy was suspicious; she didn’t know about the secret agreement between Harry and Neville regarding Malfoy. So the thought of how closely Harry and Malfoy had spoken near the supply cabinets made her dare not tell the truth.

“I just… I want to study hard and not break school rules,” Hermione still refused to admit it. “Look into someone else.”

Harry left helplessly. He knew Hermione was the type to dig to the bottom of things—and fiercely proud. So if she hadn’t done anything, she’d be furious and determined to find the thief right now.

Yet, as Professor Hooch had told him, different voices must be allowed. Harry kept that in mind now, wondering: Could it be possible that Hermione really hadn’t stolen the ingredients?

Malfoy, as an arrogant boy, likely had classmates in Slytherin who disliked him and wanted to make him look foolish. They chose Potions class to act precisely to draw Snape’s suspicion toward Gryffindor.

On Thursday, after the second Potions class of the week, Snape called Harry to his office again.

“Tell me, Potter,” he said. “What do you know?”

“Professor, may I ask something?” Harry didn’t answer, but countered. “Did you only notice the missing ingredients after class yesterday—or had some gone missing before that?”

“Clever, Potter,” Snape murmured. “I can tell you—I noticed missing ingredients before yesterday’s class. I said I didn’t mind talented students experimenting with advanced potions. I did the same when I was a student.”

“But what I cannot tolerate,” he suddenly raised his voice, “is disrupting class to steal ingredients. That is absolutely forbidden. I will catch this person.”

“Is there a possibility,” Harry chose his words carefully, “that the disruption and the theft are unrelated?”

“Then it’s even worse,” Snape snarled. “If someone merely wanted to pull a prank and disrupt my Potions class, I swear I’ll expel them.”

“I’ll try to find out who caused the disruption, Professor,” Harry said, gritting his teeth.

“Do as you please, idle Potter,” Snape gestured with his eyes that he could leave. “My offer still stands.”

Harry nodded obediently and left Snape’s office.

That night, Harry cautiously told Neville about his conversation with Snape, because he felt Hermione’s nature wouldn’t lead her to break rules voluntarily. If she’d done something out of line, it was likely tied to her friends.

“To be honest, Harry,” Neville admitted, “we did plan to steal ingredients to brew Polyjuice Potion so we could sneak into Slytherin’s common room and investigate Malfoy. But Hermione didn’t steal anything yesterday—she noticed the cabinet was nearly empty, and stealing then would’ve been obvious.”

“That’s exactly what worries me,” Harry recalled the Halloween night incident. “Snape said ingredients had been missing before. I suspect the person who impersonated you is the one who stole from Snape’s cabinet.”

“Stay optimistic, Harry,” Neville rubbed his chin. “This means we’ve narrowed the field drastically. Teachers can easily buy potion ingredients outside school. This person had to steal from Snape’s cabinet—so they must be a student.”

“This is too strange. The thing I can’t explain at all is how he knew exactly what your grandmother said.” Harry couldn’t shake the mystery of the imposter. “Or let’s set aside the theft for now—who disrupted Potions class yesterday?”

“It was me,” Neville said sheepishly. “I did it to give Hermione a chance to steal the ingredients.”

“Well, Snape promised me a full set of ingredients for Polyjuice Potion if I told him who disrupted class,” Harry hesitated. “But if Hermione didn’t get the ingredients, this whole thing gets messy.”