(Y/N)'s POV

Suddenly, while I was halfway through trying to wrestle some of my food off of Ron, the large door to the hall creaked open. It was Harry, still in normal clothes, covered in blood, which was leaking from his nose.

He shuffled along the hall awkwardly "He's covered in blood, why is he always covered in blood?" muttered Ginny as he made his way over. "Adds to his charm" I said to comfort her; it didn't work.

Harry walked so fast that he was passing the Hufflepuff table before people really started to stare, and by the time they were standing up to get a good look at him, he had spotted us, sped along the benches toward the three of us, and forced his way in between me and Ron.

"Where've you — blimey, what've you done to your face?" said Ron, goggling at him along with everyone else in the vicinity. "Why, what's wrong with it?" said Harry, grabbing a spoon and squinting at his distorted reflection.

"You're covered in blood!" said Hermione. "Come here" She raised her wand, said "Tergeo!" and siphoned off the dried blood. "Thanks," said Harry, feeling his now clean face. "How's my nose looking?"

"Normal," said Hermione anxiously. "Why shouldn't it? Harry, what happened? We've been terrified!" "I'll tell you later," said Harry curtly. "But-" said Hermione. "Not now, Hermione," said Harry, in a darkly significant voice. "Ominous" I muttered under my breath.

We caught him up, "You missed the Sorting, anyway," said Hermione, as Ron dived for a large chocolate gateau. "Hat say anything interesting?" asked Harry, taking a piece of treacle tart. "More of the same, really...advising us all to unite in the face of enemies, you know."

"Dumbledore mentioned Voldemort at all?" "Not yet, but he always saves his proper speech for after the feast doesn't he? It can't be long now." "Snape said Hagrid was late for the feast —"

"You've seen Snape? How come?" said Ron between frenzied mouthfuls of gateau. "Bumped into him," said Harry evasively. I was very confused, "So he broke your nose?"

"Hagrid was only a few minutes late," said Hermione. "Look, he's waving at you, Harry." Harry looked up at the staff table and grinned at Hagrid, who was indeed waving at him. After a great meal, Dumbledore got to his feet at the staff table. The talk and laughter echoing around the Hall died away almost instantly.

"The very best of evenings to you!" he said, smiling broadly, his arms opened wide as though to embrace the whole room. "What happened to his hand?" gasped Hermione. She was not the only one who had noticed.

Dumbledore's right hand was as blackened and dead-looking. He must have caught us all staring because he said "Nothing to worry about," he said airily. "Now...to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you..."

"His hand was like that when I saw him over the summer," Harry whispered to Hermione. "I thought he'd have cured it by now, though...or Madam Pomfrey would've done." "It looks as if it's died," said Hermione, with a nauseated expression.

"But there are some injuries you can't cure...old curses...and there are poisons without antidotes..." "...and Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items bought at the shop called Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"Those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise."

"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year, Professor Slughorn"— Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big waistcoated belly casting the table into shadow — "is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."

"Potions!" I blurted out, Hermione was a second to late clapping her a hand over my mouth, Dumbledore seemed to be staring right at me, smiled widely, and continued. "Professor Snape, meanwhile," said Dumbledore, raising voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"But Harry, you said that Slughorn was going to be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts!" said Hermione. "I thought he was!" said Harry,"Well, there's one good thing," he said savagely. "Snape'll be gone by the end of the year."

"What do you mean?" asked Ron. Harry explained before I could "That job's jinxed. No ones lasted more than a year..." he reminded them. "Quirrell actually died doing it...Personally, I'm going to keep my fingers crossed for another death..."

"Harry!" said Hermione, shocked and reproachful. "He might just go back to teaching Potions at the end of the year," said Ron reasonably. "That Slughorn bloke might not want to stay long-term. Moody didn't."

"Well neither would I if I spent the year in a box." I added, finally getting a word in. Dumbledore cleared his throat. He said nothing more about staff appointments, but waited a few seconds to ensure that the silence was absolute before continuing.

"Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength." The silence seemed to tauten and strain as Dumbledore spoke.

"I cannot emphasise strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe."

"The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff."

"I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that you teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them." This time I know for a fact he was staring at me, I smiled back awkwardly. "In particular, the rule that you are not to be out of after hours. "

"I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety."

Dumbledore paused for another half second, as if he was debating another topic, but then said "But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

With the usual deafening scraping noise, the benches moved back, and the hundreds of students began to file out of the Great Hall toward their dormitories.

Harry, who was in no hurry at all to leave with the gawping crowd, lagged behind, pretending to retie the lace on his trainer, allowing most of Gryffindors to draw ahead of him.

Hermione had darted ahead to fulfil her prefect's duty of shepherding the first years, but Ron and I remained with Harry. "What really happened to your nose?" Ron asked, once we were at the very back of the crowd.

Harry told us what happened with Malfoy on the train, I was livid when I heard, "That little rat!" I wanted nothing more then to go and beat him to a pulp, but Harry told me not too, "I saw Malfoy miming something to do with a nose," Ron said darkly.

"Yeah, well, never mind that," said Harry bitterly. "Listen to what he was saying before he found out I was there..." Harry spent our journey to the common room explaining his train shenanigans.

"Come on, Harry, he was just showing off for Parkinson...What kind of mission would You-Know-Who have given him?" I tried to cheer him up "Now it all makes sense!" I proclaimed they both turned to me, Harry looking hopeful I had a breakthrough, I did, sort of.

"That's why Snakeface made Malfoy a Death Eater" "Why?" Harry said, his eyes full of wonder. "He's so jealous of the fact you have a nose and he doesn't that he hired Malfoy for the sole purpose of breaking it" Harry glared at me and sighed, walking away to the common room.

"How d'you know Voldemort doesn't need someone at Hogwarts? It wouldn't be the first -" "I wish yeh'd stop sayin' tha name, Harry," said a reproachful voice behind us. We turned to see Hagrid shaking his head.

"Dumbledore uses that name," said Harry stubbornly "Yeah, well, tha's Dumbledore, innit?" said Hagrid mysteriously. "So how come yeh were late, Harry? I was worried." "Got held up on the train," said Harry.

"Why were you late?" "I was with Grawp," said Hagrid happily. "Los' track o' the time. He's got a new home up in the mountains now, Dumbledore fixed it — nice big cave. He's much happier than he was in the forest. We were havin' a good chat."

"That's awesome Hagrid, can I come see him?" "How's he doing?" I asked, trying to be polite "Really?" said Harry, "Oh yeah, he's really come on," said Hagrid proudly. "Yeh'll be amazed. I'm thinkin' o' trainin' him up as me assistant."

"Anyway, I'll see yeh tomorrow, firs' lesson's straight after lunch. Come early an' yeh can say hello ter Buck — I mean, Witherwings!" Raising an arm in cheery farewell, he headed out of the doors into the darkness.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, their faces going pale. "You're not taking Care of Magical Creatures, are you?" Ron shook his head. "And you're not either, are you?" Harry shook his head too. "And Hermione," said Ron, "she's not, is she?" I shook my head. "Well, guess I'm his new favourite student" I gloated, but I did feel bad for him.

We continued to talk about the topic at hand after explaining it to Hermione the next day, "But he was obviously showing off for Parkinson, wasn't he?" interjected Ron quickly, before Hermione could say anything.

"Well," she said uncertainly, "I don't know...It would be like Malfoy to make himself seem more important than he is...but that's a big lie to tell..." I nodded, "Throwing around lies like that could get you killed nowadays, Malfoy's not stupid enough to risk that."

"Exactly," said Harry, but he could not press the point, because so many people were trying to listen in to our conversation, I glared at them, "It's rude to point," Ron snapped at a particularly minuscule first-year boy as they joined the queue to climb out of the portrait hole.

The boy, who had been muttering something about Harry behind his hand to his friend, promptly turned scarlet and toppled out of the hole in alarm. Ron sniggered.

"I love being a sixth year. And were going to be getting free time this year. Whole periods when we can just sit up here and relax." "Speak for yourself, I'm packed full, didn't drop much" I said, yawning.

"Yeah, besides we're going to need that time for studying, Ron!" said Hermione, as we set off down the corridor. "Yeah, but not today," said Ron. "Today's going to be a real loss, I reckon."

"Hold it!" said Hermione, throwing out an arm and halting a passing fourth year, who was attempting to push past her with a lime-green disk clutched tightly in his hand. "Fanged Frisbees banned, hand it over," she told him sternly.

The scowling boy handed over the snarling Frisbee, ducked under her arm, and took off after his friends. "'Mione that was mean" I pouted, "But I've got a cool new frisbee now." I smiled, taking it from her hands and tossing it between my hands.

She cleared her throat and gave me the look, and I reluctantly gave it back, much to Harry and Ron's amusement, I shoved them as they both snickered at me. Then Ron snatched it from me. Much to my horror. "Oi! That's mine! Hermione, tell him!"

"Excellent, I've always wanted one of these." He said in a mocking imitation of me, Hermione's scolding was drowned by a loud giggle; Lavender Brown had apparently found Ron's remark highly amusing.

She continued to laugh as she passed, glancing back at Ron over her shoulder. Ron looked rather pleased with himself. I shoved him forwards towards Lavender telling him to "Go!" but he remained rooted.

While they tucked into porridge and eggs and bacon, Harry and Ron told Hermione about their embarrassing conversation with Hagrid the previous evening, I was too busy eating to add much to the conversation.

"But he can't really think we'd continue Care of Magical Creatures!" she said, looking distressed. "I mean, when has any of us expressed...you know...any enthusiasm?"

"Riding Buckbeak was great, and Grubby Plank's Unicorn was alright, and I would have died if not for Blast Ended Skrewts so..." I trailed off "That's it, though, innit?" said Ron, swallowing an entire fried egg whole.

"We were the ones who made the most effort in classes because we like Hagrid. But he thinks we liked the stupid subject. D'ya reckon anyone's going to go on to N.E.W.T.?" Neither Harry nor Hermione answered.

"I am" I said quietly through my food. All three of them looked at me as if I had just turned into a Blast Ended Skrewt myself. "Are you sure?" Hermione whispered under her breath as if Hagrid could hear us from here, I nodded, "Keeping my options open."

After we had eaten, everyone remained in their places, awaiting Professor McGonagall's descent from the staff table. The distribution of class schedules was more complicated than usual this year, for Professor McGonagall needed first to confirm that everybody had achieved the necessary O.W.L. grades to continue with their chosen N.E.W.T.s.

While everyone else was getting sorted Harry, Ron and I were taking my last few minutes of peace before Potions to take a short break and laugh at the passing first years as they struggled to find their way to classes. It was honestly a lot more fun then it sounded.

After a few minutes of laughing at their constantly surprised expressions I realised the time. Just as I was getting ready for my first Potions class McGonagall called Harry and I over to her, explaining she needed to discuss our schedules.

"So, Potter, Potter..." said Professor McGonagall, consulting her notes as she turned to Harry. "Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration...all fine. I must say, I was pleased with your Transfiguration mark, Potter, very pleased."

"Now, why haven't you applied to continue with Potions? I thought it was your ambition to become an Auror?" "It was, but you told me I had to get an 'Outstanding' in my O.W.L., Professor."

"And so you did when Professor Snape was teaching the subject. Professor Slughorn, however, is perfectly happy to accept N.E.W.T. students with 'Exceeds Expectations' at O.W.L. Do you wish to proceed with Potions?"

"Yes," said Harry, "but I didn't buy the books or any ingredients or anything-" "I'm sure Professor Slughorn will be able to lend you some," said Professor McGonagall. "Very well, Potter, here is your schedule."

"Oh, by the way- twenty hopefuls have already put down their names for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I shall pass the list to you in due course and you can fix up trials at your leisure."

Then she looked over to Ron, who was having a merry old time watching a first year try to get to History of Magic and going the wrong direction, the boy was checking his map every few seconds and muttering under his breath.

Eventually, I couldn't handle the awkward memories it brought back anymore and directed him to Binns' classroom. He thanked me and I jogged back to McGonagall just in time to hear. "Potter, take Weasley with you. He looks far to happy over there." A few minutes later the two of them left together for Potions.

"(L/N)..." she looked down the list, scowled and looked again to see if she was checking a mistake. "It seems you have chosen to pursue a N.E.W.T in a fair few subjects this year."

"Charms, Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Herbology, Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures." she said as if she was asking my opinion. "Sounds about right" I said, finishing packing my stuff.

"Are you sure you will be able to proceed with this workload?" I shrugged, "History of Magic might be boring, but I suppose it can be useful, Healers need Herbology and I like Care of Magical Creatures." She sighed.

"Just because you 'like' a subject does not mean that you are magically able to handle the coursework that is required to continue it at the N.E.W.T level. Surely it is in your interest to focus on subjects you can excel in rather then those you may...struggle with."

"Well...I have Herbology sorted with Professor Sprout and Neville is going to help when he can for extra credit, and Care of Magical Creatures comes in handy in my experience" I reasoned. "And to be honest Professor, the fact that I like a subject is usually the only reason I do so well in classes"

"Well, that...and Hermione's a slave driver when it comes to exams and revision" I shuddered. She let out a little scoff, "Not unsurprising" then she sighed again. After she asked me about dropping Care of Magical Creatures again and again I refused.

She said finally "Well, you see...you may find Care of Magical Creatures rather...dull. On a N.E.W.T. level." I shrugged and she sighed "Well, only one way to find out." "Then it seems (L/N), I will see you in my class later this week, as will many of my colleagues"

I gave her a thumbs up. As I took my schedule and walked off, she called me back. "Be weary you don't spread yourself too thin" I nodded, "Plenty of me to go 'round professor." I winked, she sighed heavily, "Off to your first lesson then" she said sternly.

I strode down to my first Potions lesson, when I arrived in the corridor I realised there were only a dozen people progressing to N.E.W.T. level. Crabbe and Goyle had evidently failed to achieve the required O.W.L. grade, much to my relief, so had Pansy Parkinson, but four Slytherins had made it through, including Malfoy.

Four Ravenclaws were there, and one Hufflepuff, Ernie Macmillan, as we got settled, naturally, we grouped together. The four Slytherins took a table together, as did the four Ravenclaws.

But this meant we had to share a table with Ernie, not that any of us minded in the slightest. He was greeting us cheerfully as the dungeon door opened and Slughorn's belly preceded him out of the door.

As he filed into the room, his great walrus moustache curved above his beaming mouth, and he greeted Harry and Zabini with enthusiasm and cautiously waved an arm towards me.

The dungeon was completely different from when Snape occupied it, it was well lit, much more open and seemed to have been cleaned since Slughorn's appointment.

The whole atmosphere of the room seemed to have changed, it was lighter, more carefree and it almost felt as if it was my first time stepping into the room that I had been visiting for my entire time at Hogwarts, and most unusually, it was already full of vapours and odd smells.

As I took in the room, a peculiar scent caught my attention, it was strange but very comforting, It was familiar. I know I had smelt it a thousand times before. The burrow? No, it wasn't my house either. It smelled of old parchment, ink, butterbeer, fresh snow, and something else I couldn't quite catch.

I don't know what it was, but I knew I liked this potion, "Now then, now then, now then," said Slughorn, "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making..."

"Sir?" said Harry, raising his hand. "Harry, m'boy?" "I haven't got a book or scales or anything — nor's Ron — we didn't realise we'd be able to do the N.E.W.T. you see —"

"Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall did mention...not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry at all. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I'm sure we can lend you some scales, and we've got a small stock of old books here, they'll do until you can write to Flourish and Blotts..."

He motioned Harry and Ron to a store cupboard in the back of the room. I watched as they both shuffled over for a minute, then pause for a second and glance at each other, suddenly, everyone's attention was drawn to the two of them as they basically fought over the 'better' supplies.

"Idiots" I heard Hermione mutter, It made me crack a smile. After a moment's foraging, the two emerged with two very battered-looking copies of Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage, along with two sets of tarnished scales.

"Now then," said Slughorn, returning to the front of the class, "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s."

"You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?" He indicated the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table. I raised my hand, as did Hermione of course.

"Um... yes, Mr. (L/N)" he shuffled as he pointed, "It's Veritaserum," He nodded and gestured for me to explain further, "a potion that makes you tell the truth, even if you don't want to" I concluded. "Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily, giving me ten points to Gryffindor.

"Now," he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, "this one here is pretty well known...Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately too...Who can —?" Hermione's hand was fastest this time. "lt's Polyjuice Potion, sir," she said.

"Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here...yes, my dear?" said Slughorn, gesturing to the potion I liked, now looking slightly bemused, as Hermione's hand punched the air again. "It's Amortentia!"

"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?" "It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione.

"Quite right! You recognised it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?" "And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione enthusiastically, "and it's supposed to smell differently to each of according to what attracts us, for example, I smell freshly cut flowers and fireworks and-"

But she turned slightly pink and did not complete the sentence. My heart was racing as I triumphantly celebrated internally. Smiling so widely it almost hurt, I nudged her, she gave me a side glance so I whispered to her, "Mine smells of old books, snow and butterbeer." "Who do you reckon I fancy?"

"I'm thinking, either Winky, or Madam Pince" she smiled at me brightly and barely suppressed a giggle. "I've always had a thing for librarians, but librarians who shout at me..." I gave it the chefs kiss.

"May I ask your name, my dear?" said Slughorn, ignoring Hermione's embarrassment. "Hermione Granger, sir." "Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

"No. I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see." Slughorn showed no dismay; on the contrary, he beamed and looked from Hermione to Harry, who was sitting on the other side of her.

"Oho! 'One of my best friends is Muggle-born, and she's the best in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?" "Yes, sir," said Harry.

"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger," said Slughorn genially. Malfoy had the same expression he had the time Hermione had punched him in the face, which was an expression I would never forget.

Hermione turned to Harry with a radiant expression and whispered, "Did you really tell him I'm the best in the year? Oh, Harry!" I nudged him, "You're making me look bad man" He smirked and was barely holding in a smile, looking very proud of himself.

"Well, what's so impressive about that?" whispered Ron, who for some reason looked annoyed. "You are the best in the year — I'd've told him so if he'd asked me!" Hermione smiled but made a "shhing" gesture, so that we could hear what Slughorn was saying. Ron looked slightly disgruntled.

I raised a hand and Slughorn looked perfectly content with ignoring me until we made the briefest of eye contact, he stammered and asked me what was wrong.

"What makes it the most powerful love potion, aren't you either in love or not in love?" I said, not quite comprehending what made the potion special. "Does it just last longer?"

He nodded along, his belly basically nodding along with him and said "Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room — oh yes,"

Nodding gravely at Malfoy and Nott, both of whom were smirking skeptically. "When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love." I shuddered, my brain immediately conjuring up images of Moaning Myrtle "Creepy."

"And now," said Slughorn, "it is time for us to start work." "Sir, you haven't told us what's in this one," said Ernie Macmillan, pointing at a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn's desk.

The potion within was splashing about merrily; it was the colour of molten gold, and large drops were leaping like goldfish above the surface, though not a particle had spilled.

"Oho," said Slughorn again, waiting to be asked for dramatic effect. "Yes. That. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis."

He turned, smiling, to look at Hermione, who had let out an audible gasp, "I take it, that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?" "It's liquid luck," said Hermione excitedly. "It makes you lucky!" The whole class seemed to sit up a little straighter.

"Quite right, take another ten points for Gryffindor. Yes, it's a funny little potion, Felix Felicis," said Slughorn. "Desperately tricky to make, and disastrous to get wrong."

"However, if brewed correctly, as this has been, you will find that all your endeavours tend to succeed...at least until the effects wear off."

"Why don't people drink it all the time, sir?" said Terry Boot eagerly. "Because if taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence," said Slughorn. "So nothing new then" I muttered, elbowing Harry.

"Too much of a good thing, you know...highly toxic in large quantities. But taken sparingly, and very occasionally..." "Have you ever taken it, sir?" asked Michael Corner with great interest.

"Twice in my life," said Slughorn. "Once when I was twenty-four, once when I was fifty-seven. Two tablespoonfuls taken with breakfast. Two perfect days."

"What happened to you when you took it?" I asked curiously, he looked to me, chuckled weakly and tapped his finger to his nose, continuing with his lesson instead. He gazed dreamily into the distance.

Whether he was playacting or not, the effect was good. "And that," said Slughorn, apparently coming back to earth, "is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson."

"One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis," said Slughorn, taking a minuscule glass bottle with a cork in it out of his pocket and showing it to us. "Enough for twelve hours' luck. From dawn till dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt."

"Now, I must give you warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organised competitions...sporting events, for instance, examinations, or elections. So, the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only...and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!"

"So," said Slughorn, suddenly brisk, "how are you to win this fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of Advanced Potion Making. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death.

"I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"

There was a scraping as everyone drew their cauldrons toward them and some loud clunks as people began adding weights to their scales, but nobody spoke.

It was like this for five minutes until the sighs and mutterings started, everyone in the room almost collectively groaned as we all realised how difficult this potion was to make.

Looking around as I gauged how far other people had come along, I found Hermione, of course, seemed to have progressed furthest. Her potion already resembled the "smooth, black currant-coloured liquid" mentioned as the ideal halfway stage.

Malfoy was oddly concentrating very hard on his potion; I think in all the years I've known him this is about as motivated as I've ever seen him in class. Ron was two stages behind me in the process but looking over to Harry he was leagues ahead of me, looking at his book with a smirk.

A few minutes later I saw Harry bent low over his book again. It was very irritating watching as his potion immediately turned exactly the shade of lilac described by the textbook. I should have been a step ahead of him, so I felt like I must be doing something wrong.

Doublechecking the recipe and doubling my efforts I got to the stage he was at soon after he did, hoping to catch up, but looking over, his potion had already turned pale pink. It was starting to irritate me, how was he progressing so fast?

Apparently, I wasn't the only person to notice, "How are you doing that?" demanded Hermione, who was red faced and whose hair was growing bushier and bushier in the fumes from her cauldron; her potion was still resolutely purple.

"Add a clockwise stir —" "No, no, the book says counter clockwise!" she snapped. Harry shrugged and continued what he was doing. "And crush the beans, don't cut them" he said in a very condescending tone, It bugged me so I snapped too, "It says 'cut' right there."

I pointed to the book, he shrugged again, smirking, "You need new glasses mate" I said in frustration, wiping sweat from my brow and pressing on, but before I knew it, time was up, my potion looked like it should have but I hadn't had time to test it!

"And time's...up!" called Slughorn. "Stop stirring, please!" Slughorn moved slowly among the tables, peering into cauldrons. He made no comment, but occasionally gave the potions a stir or a sniff.

He smiled ruefully at the tarlike substance in Ron's cauldron. Normally this would at least get a smile from me, but I was too concerned with my own result.

He passed over Ernie's navy concoction. Hermione's potion he gave an approving nod. Then mine, which he dropped a leaf in, it shrivelled and died, but not like it should have, I kicked myself.

He must have seen how disappointed I was because he spoke for the first time, "Almost perfect my boy, a few more stirs maybe?" I nodded, biting my lip in frustration, I knew what was coming before it did, I felt the glee in Slughorn's head, and the delight in Harry's.

Slughorn saw Harry's, and a look of incredulous delight spread over his face. "The clear winner!" he cried to the dungeon. "Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good lord, it's clear you've inherited your mother's talent."

"She was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are — one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!" Harry slipped the tiny bottle of golden liquid into his inner pocket proudly.

"Of course he gets it! When is Harry Potter ever denied something he wants" I muttered under my breath, delivering  swift frustrated kick to the desk, stubbing my toe, which did nothing to improve my mood.

To calm down I took Hermione's hand as she let out a frustrated sigh, giving her an 'oh well' smile, she smiled back but she was clearly disappointed. "How did you do that?" Ron whispered to Harry as we left the dungeon.

"Got lucky, I suppose," said Harry, because Malfoy was within earshot. Once we were securely ensconced at the Gryffindor table for dinner, however, he felt safe enough to tell us about a book he found with instructions other than the ones we got.

I couldn't decide if it put me at ease about my own ability or made me feel worse. Either way it must have shown on my face because he turned to me and Hermione. "I s'pose you think I cheated?" he finished, clearly aggravated by my expression.

"Yeah, I really do, unless Dumbledore's had you brewing potions for him all summer you don't deserve that" I pointed to his pocket, "Whoever scribbled in the book does. This Half Blood Prince bloke" He scowled at me and Hermione interjected.

"Well, it wasn't exactly your own work, was it?" she said stiffly. "He only followed different instructions to ours," said Ron, "Could've been a catastrophe, couldn't it? But he took a risk and it paid off."

He heaved a sigh. "I could have had that book, but no, I get the one no one's ever written on. Puked on, by the look of page fifty-two, but—" "Hang on," said a voice close by that I soon recognised as Ginny, who had sat down beside Harry.

"Did I hear right? You've been taking orders from something someone wrote in a book, Harry?" "Yeah," he defended. "I swear Harry, what is it with you and random evil books?" He looked oddly upset.

"It's not evil." I shrugged, "Yeah, neither was the last one" I laughed, trying not to rile myself up about it. "It's not like, you know, Riddle's diary. It's just an old textbook someone's scribbled on."

"But you're doing what it says?" "I just tried a few of the tips written in the margins, honestly, Ginny, there's nothing funny-" "Ginny's got a point," said Hermione, perking up at once. "We ought to check that there's nothing odd about it. I mean, all these funny instructions, who knows?"

"Hey!" said Harry indignantly, as she pulled his copy of Advanced Potion-Making out of his bag and raised her wand. "Specialis Revelio!" she said, rapping it smartly on the front cover. "Whoever named that spell is lazy" I thought, but nothing whatsoever happened.

The book simply lay there, looking old and dirty and dog-eared. "Finished?" said Harry irritably. "Or d'you want to wait and see if it does a few backflips?" I nodded, "Dark magic is commonly associated with backflips" he scowled at me.

"It seems all right," said Hermione, still staring at the book suspiciously. "I mean, it really does seem to be...just a textbook." "Good. Then I'll have it back," said Harry, snatching it off the table and storming off to his bed.

I called after him. "If this one spits out another Dark Lord, I'm not helping you fight it." I sighed, making my way over to play with Crookshanks and Bones. "Cheating git" I muttered as Bones chased her toy mouse over to me happily, excited to play.