Evans, you could never be scary.
By Wednesday my eyebrows are mostly back to normal. No one ever commented on them. People have weird accidents all the time. I saw someone walking through the corridors with leeks protruding from their ears yesterday. James and Sirius laughed.
Potions with the Slytherins is held in the dungeons. I can’t believe the Slytherins live down here; it’s dark and damp. I think I spy a rat scurrying around a corner, but when I go for a second look the corridor is rodent free.
We sit at tall tables in pairs. Remus is next to me and we are at the very back of the room, near the long sink. Professor Slughorn reminds me of my dad and he’s the first professor we’ve had who wears his outer robes closed up the front. His cheeks grow pink patches as he exclaims over certain students, asking them about their families. He’s so eager to talk to James he completely skips my name.
“James Potter! Your father invented Sleekeazy’s if I’m not mistaken. Very talented wizard, very talented. I’m a lifelong customer, of course.”
For someone who likes attention almost as much as Sirius, James acts like the whole thing isn’t a big deal. Maybe he’s tired of people bringing up his dad’s invention. Maybe he wants to put up a front of humility for the Slytherins. Maybe he doesn’t care for Slughorn’s hungry eyes.
“Potions is a rigorous subject,” Professor Slughorn says when he finishes taking roll. He paces at the front of the classroom with his hands clasped behind his back. I imagine him morphing into a giant walrus and hopping back and forth on his flabby tail. “All of the potions we brew in first year are able to be completed within the allotted double period.
“Because the course material is complicated and requires extreme precision, you will be working with partners this year.” My heart skips. This is good news, I think. “I will permit you to partner up amongst yourselves but by the end of the month I’d like to know the permanent partner pairings for the remainder of the year.
“Today we will be brewing a cure for boils. You’ll only need one cauldron per pair. Open your textbooks to page fourteen where you will find the ingredients and method.”
The four of us look at each other.
“What do you say we partner up with our seat mates today and rotate partners until we have to decide our permanent pairing?” James suggests.
This works for me. James and Sirius are better at magic and my potions competency is thus far unknown. I don’t want to let anyone down and I have a feeling Remus will be more forgiving.
There is a bit of a scene when Lily partners up with the Slytherin James and Sirius hate so much. They begin whispering about her. Greycen has to be partners with a Slytherin girl with long brown hair who I’d be terrified to talk to because she’s the prettiest girl in our year.
Remus and I get to work on our potion for curing boils but three steps in, the potion already looks off from the description in the textbook. I have no idea what we did wrong. I’m reminded of cooking with mum. She uses recipes as general guidelines, always adding an extra pinch of this, a sprinkle of that, and half the time the food gets a little over cooked because she doesn’t pay attention to the clock. No matter what she starts making, it all ends up tasting the same. Dad and I never complain.
I seem to be plagued by this inability to focus when potion brewing. Remus isn’t helping anything, second guessing every single step and direction.
“Do you think this is what minced means?” He gestures at a our pile of brown nettles.
“Maybe?”
At least Remus doesn’t seem offended by my lack of expertise. He shrugs and dumps the nettles into our simmering cauldron.
Professor Sloghorn is walking around, making loud observations about the quality of the potions on display.
“This is textbook quality work, you two,” he says when he reaches Lily and the Slytherin. “Excellent, excellent. This is a promising pair!”
I’m distracted yet again by Sirius and James who duck down behind their cauldron, spitballs at the ready. They fire in quick succession, hitting Sev—Lily says his name—in the side of the head. Sev is desperately trying to brush Lily and the spitballs off, his long dark hair partially hiding his crimson face from view. She’s livid. Lily marches over to James and Sirius who are hiding behind their work table.
“I know you two were involved in whatever just happened. What is wrong with you?” she says, hands on her hips.
“Lily, we didn’t do anything,” Sirius lies.
“Please, you have guilty written across your forehead. I want you to know something, Black, Potter, when you mess with Sev you mess with me. Got it!”
“Ohhh,” they both mock, glancing at each other. “We’re so scared.”
Lily takes a step closer. Her eyes are thin slits, eyebrows furrowed. I’m scared of her.
“You should be. I might be a lowly muggle-born but I have it on good authority I have more magic flowing in my veins than most. So watch yourselves.”
James laughs. “Evans, you could never be scary.”
“Challenge accepted, Potter.”
The way Lily glares at him, I think James will be sent home in a casket before the end of the week. She backs away.
Three minutes later, James yelps as a smattering of tinkling glass sounds. Professor Slughorn gets the broken vial of porcupine quills cleaned up in a trice and chastises James to be more careful with his kit. I wonder if Lily had anything to do with it, but I can’t see how she could have because she packed her wand away before the vial broke. Still, she could have killed with her eyes alone. I’m momentarily struck by a memory of my favorite wireless program and a plotline which involved a basilisk. They kill with eye contact.
At the conclusion of the lesson I’m more wary of Lily than anyone I’ve encountered at Hogwarts thus far, and completely hopeless at helping Remus scrape off the coagulated green gunk which has adhered itself to the interior of my cauldron. It’s so heavy we have to team carry it up to Professor Slughorn who vanishes the contents with a wave of his stubby wand.
“Thanks, da—I mean Professor,” I say, my face flooding with color.
In our room that night, James and Sirius are debating how the vial exploded, as James claims it did.
“She did it, Evans. I know it,” Sirius says.
“Her wand was in her bag,” I tell them.
“It must have been someone else,” James says with a shake of his head. I wonder if James still thinks Lily is cute?
“Who would know a spell to shatter glass?” Remus argues.
Sirius sneers. “Snivellus, I’m sure he knows plenty of nasty spells. Remember he was ready to curse me before we were even sorted.”
“He was rinsing their cauldron at the sink,” says Remus.
“Well, someone else then!”
“Drop it, you two,” Remus says, then yawns. “You were the ones who hit Severus with spitballs anyway.”
Severus, that’s his actual name! But James and Sirius call him Snivellus. And Lily calls him Sev. Lily’s nickname makes sense. I have no idea where Snivellus came from. The conversation continues regarding Severus and his prospective fates but I’m distracted wondering if James and Sirius have names they call everyone behind their backs. I resolve to never allow them to find out my mum called me Butterball until I was nine.