Potions
Thursday 9th September 1971
“Come on,” Marlene teased, standing on the end of Mary’s bed and gingerly kicking her shins. “We’re going to be late if you don’t get out of bed now.”
“Where’s Lily?” Mary grumbled. Her voice, although fatigued and quiet, was audibly husky, and Marlene heard her yawn.
“She’s gone already,” Marlene laughed, giving Mary and especially hard kick for good measure.
“OW—!” Mary exclaimed.
Marlene stood over Mary still, waiting for her to move. In the silence, she could hear the ticking of her watch and various doors slamming up and down the staircase. Eventually, Mary succumbed and tried to slide carefully out of her bed, avoiding Marlene, and fell hard onto the floor.
“Ha!” Marlene said, jumping down and walking over to their coat hooks by the door. Taking her cloak and picking up her bag, she stood waiting, as Mary unfurled herself and threw her hair back from her face.
“Oi—wait for me,” she said, pointing at Marlene and disappearing into the bathroom. Marlene could hear the tap being turned frantically on and off and a hasty clattering inside the sink drawer.
“Come on!” Marlene called, pursing her lips and trying not to laugh as Mary shouted, and something hit the floor, metallic and ringing.
“Marlene McKinnon have some bloody patience, will you!” She re-emerged, much more lively albeit dishevelled, and grabbed her bag, which had been dumped on the floor mere hours ago. Just as she was about to close it and put it over her shoulder, Marlene said, “Your book’s not in there.”
Mary stopped for a moment: her eyes were wide, and she stared pointedly at Marlene.
“Where is it?” she said, her voice uneasy.
“I put it in my bag,” Marlene said, covering her mouth to stifle her laughter.
Mary continued to fixate on Marlene. She began to question her decision: maybe Mary was not in the mood; maybe—Marlene shivered at the thought—she had misread Mary’s sense of humour completely.
“Are you—okay?” Marlene said, her voice coming out smaller than expected.
But Mary did not react. Marlene suddenly became very aware of the pressure of her watch strap clamped around her wrist, and the crowd downstairs which was quietening by the minute.
“Tricked you!” Mary said, suddenly crouching on the floor in hysterics. “You’re so over-polite Marlene, just relax a bit!”
At first, she did not know what do say or do. Over-polite. Relax. The words rung around her head at such an immense rate it made her dizzy. But there was something comic about the way Mary was heaving for breaths on the floor, laughing at her own joke like a terrible comedian who couldn’t hold it together even if they tried, and in moments Marlene found herself with Mary. They wiped tears from their eyes and Marlene remembered what they had woken up for.
“Mary, we really have to go,” Marlene squeaked, turning her watch face up to see the time.
Mary leaned forward and opened the door, slipping her arm into Marlene’s.
“Thank you for taking my things,” Mary said, as they trotted down the staircase.
“It’s okay,” Marlene muttered. Her face suddenly felt very hot.
“You can keep doing it if you like it so much. I could do with a personal donkey,” Mary mused.
Marlene shoved her playfully, and by the time they had made it to the charms classroom, almost twelve minutes had passed.
Scrutinising the room, which seemed to be empty save for the small class sitting in silence and facing the middle, Marlene almost asked Mary where the teacher was, but then she looked into the middle of the tired seating, and saw that the teacher was a very small man—with a white beard almost down to his feet—standing on top of a colossal stack of books.
“Sorry we’re late, sir,” Mary said, as they sat down. Marlene cringed, thinking about what the small professor might say. Late was never a good first impression. She hoped it wouldn’t change his opinion of her before they’d even met, and braced herself for his reply.
“That is quite alright.” The man’s voice was surprisingly high-pitched, and there was not a hint of anger in his words. “May I take your names?”
“Yes, sir,” Mary answered smoothly. “Mary Macdonald and Marlene McKinnon, sir.”
“Two M’s!” the man clapped excitedly. He wasn’t the only teacher who had made this remark either, as Professor Binns, the history of magic teacher, had taken twenty-five minutes out of the lesson just to enquire people about their names. The scatty ghost had taken extra care to reassure Marlene and Mary that they would be permitted to sit together for the rest of their time at history of magic classes, solely down to their shared initials. “Guess we’re really stuck together now,” Mary had whispered into Marlene’s ear, as Binns had moved onto catechising Pettigrew and Potter.
The lesson, despite missing the first ten minutes of it, had not properly started yet, the charms professor informed them. And when four more Hufflepuffs filed in, and the register was complete, the professor declared—louder than one might assume—that he was called Professor Flitwick. Neatly waving his wand, he sent five pinecones whizzing round the room as though seekers on broomsticks.
“The charm is Wingardium Leviosa, everybody. Swish and flick! That’s right,” he said to Lily, who was seated at the very front, and already trying it on her own pinecone.
Marlene peered over for a closer look, mostly—she didn’t really want to admit it, though—to see if Lily was with anyone, but instead caught sight of a scroll of parchment half-full with cramped, dense handwriting. Mary had appeared to have seen it too, as when she locked eyes with Marlene (they were both as wide-eyed as each other), she mouthed “try-hard” and immediately covered her mouth to stop herself from audibly laughing. Marlene didn’t think putting in a bit more effort than everyone else was being a try-hard, but she started to worry that Professor Flitwick may well have said something vital at the beginning and they’d missed it.
By the end of the lesson, Lily had skilfully made her pinecone float three or four feet in the air, and Sirius Black managed to shatter a windowpane, which was met with vicious tutting from a couple of Slytherins. As for Marlene, she’d made it hover, just above the table surface, but every time she thought it was getting a bit higher in the air, it fell down with a scratchy clatter.
The bell rang, and everyone shoved through the door to get out.
“Wait,” Mary said once they were in the corridor, just loud enough for only Marlene to hear.
“What?” Marlene said, confused but obeying.
Mary did not reply, but indicated with her eyes to Lily. Marlene thought Mary was being dramatic, but then she saw Lily disappear down the corridor, flaming copper head conspicuous in a sea of Slytherins.
“I told you!” Marlene hissed, secretly pleased with herself for guessing that Lily was hanging around with someone else. Mary held a finger to her lips and waited for the corridor to clear.
“What’ve we got next?”
“I don’t know,” Marlene shrugged helplessly. “I don’t have my timetable. I think I lost it.”
Marlene chewed a thumbnail and Mary grinned as she placed her bag down and dug through it, producing a crumpled piece of parchment with a clean fold line down the middle. So clean, in fact, that it looked frail and as though it might break in half if she folded it up again.
“Ummm,” she hummed to herself, her eyes scanning for the right time. “Okay, so we’ve got transfiguration now, and then later we’ve got history of magic, and then we’re done.”
The rest of the day passed slowly. The weather was still warm, for September, and the stone rooms were more humid than outside. It was difficult to stay awake with the simmering heat and now with all their late nights, Marlene placed her chin in her hands to try to keep alert, but with Binns’ voice capable of putting anyone to sleep at “hello”, staying awake was more challenging than the subject of discussion. Marlene awoke with a start, finding her face pressed hard against the red carpet of the common room.
“Marlene!” Mary poked Marlene’s legs with her toes. “We’ve still got potions readings to do. It’s only four.”
She struggled up, perplexed and weary, and Mary reached an arm out to lift her onto her feet. “This is the last night we’ll stay up late, I promise.”
Friday 10th September
“Finally we get to do some potion-making,” Mary said, clapping her hands together, as the girls descended the staircase down to the dungeons. “Is this the right place?”
The dungeons were completely desolate: unlike the rest of the castle, their walls did not feature such a vast collection of talking paintings, but there were lots of wooden doors with big, obnoxious locks on the front of them. Some were even chained closed.
“Your guess is as good as mine. What does your timetable say?” Marlene asked nervously, as a large cobweb hanging from the ceiling caught her eye.
“Dunno,” Mary said, looking down the other end of the corridor. “I had to chuck it. It split in half.”
“I think it said room three,” Marlene suggested, although doubt was starting to set in and judging by all the locked doors, there weren’t rooms down here at all, let alone numbers.
A loud shout thundered down the dungeons. Marlene looked up sharply to find the source of the noise, but Mary beat her to it.
“I saw a flash of green,” she said. “Must’ve been some Slytherins.”
“Are you sure?” Marlene said. The rest of the castle was unpleasantly hot, but the more time they spent down here, the more Marlene was wishing she had appreciated the heat above ground.
Then, there was another cry and this time—Marlene saw it too—several sinewy heads headed for the end of the corridor.
“Follow them!” Mary exclaimed.
“How are you so awake?” Marlene groaned. “We’ve barely slept a wink, why are you so happy?”
“I got Lily to go down and get me a large coffee without milk,” Mary said, not taking her eye off the Slytherins who were miles down the other end of the corridor.
“You could’ve got me some too, you know,” Marlene said, nudging Mary weakly. “I’m frailer than you. I’m starting to pass out.” She said it sarcastically, but she bit her lip when she realised she probably could pass out if she wanted to.
***
Professor Slughorn, much like Professor Binns, was subdued and unwittingly cheerful, and spent a large chunk of the class taking the register too. Besides this, Marlene thought, at least Slughorn was alive, and not a ghost. And, more interestingly, they were actually going to be doing practical work. All that reading was worth it, at least. This would have been fun, if Marlene had slept enough hours and wasn’t relying on some kind of extremely loud noise to occur to keep her awake. Every time she looked at whatever was brewing in Slughorn’s own cauldron, the cauldron turned into a pillow, and everything washed and swilled around and became very pleasant…
“Best thing is to just get stuck in!” the excited professor said, jolting Marlene out of her daze. “Now, if we all work four to a cauldron, you can all just take it in turns to follow the steps.”
There was a great din and a lot of shuffling around as everyone tried to reach for their friends. Marlene and Mary walked around trying to look for another pair of friends that might like to join them, and ended up with a pair of Hufflepuffs who seemed shy around each other, a girl and a boy.
The boy seemed to know a lot about potions. He gave everyone instructions and threw lots of things into the cauldron, without much apparent thought, but according to the textbook, he was doing everything perfectly. Marlene tried to talk to the girl, who introduced herself as Amelia. Her voice was sort of breezy and not quite there. Marlene was just about to ask Amelia about what exactly her father did at the Ministry of Magic, when a scream erupted from the middle of the room.
“Severus!” Lily shouted, horror-stricken.
A scrawny Gryffindor boy with a severe haircut like a criminal—Marlene racked her brains for what his name was again—threw himself into Severus, making the table tip back on its legs. A chopping board clanged onto the floor, a knife shortly afterwards, and as quickly as it had started, a taller, snub-nosed Slytherin grabbed Lupin’s collar and pulled him backwards, punching him right in the middle of his face. People were setting things down cautiously to watch, and some were desperately trying to ignore it, continuing to mix the concoctions, discussing what the next step was in hushed voices.
“Stop!” Slughorn shouted. Now everyone, even the ones who were trying to ignore it, froze. “Get up, both of you!” he yelled. The boys, now bearing a terrified expression, got off the floor. “Explain yourselves!”
Snape’s nose was bleeding and he appeared to be trying to stop the blood flow, and Lily wiped tears from her cheeks, making herself look very small. Everyone continued to watch.
“Very well,” Slughorn continued, even though nobody replied to him when he had asked them to explain themselves, “Detention for both of you, two weeks. Ten points from Gryffindor and ten from Slytherin.”
This was met with several groans from the spectating first years. Marlene, who felt like she had been dunked in a pool of cold water after having witnessed the fight, felt Mary move to stand next to her. “Bloody hell,” Mary whispered into Marlene’s ear, making her hair shift across her neck. “Don’t want to get caught up with that lot.”
“That’s not fair!” the bespectacled Gryffindor boy said suddenly, his voice echoing against the grisly stone walls. “Should be twice as many from Slytherin, it was two against one!”
Marlene heard Mary chuckle lightly and she nudged her side.
“From where I was standing it was Mr Lupin who started it,” Slughorn replied, shaking his head. “Still, you are quite right—Mulciber, five points for punching Remus. Violence does not solve violence, you know, as I’ve told your eldest brother on a number of occasions.”
Marlene exchanged a glance with Mary. She knew they were both thinking they same thing: isn’t this embarrassing?
“Miss Evans, please take Mr Snape to the hospital wing. Lupin, you can clean up the mess you’ve made.” Slughorn finished his speech, and immediately the class went back to brewing their potions, acting guilty, as though they had not just dropped everything to witness the plight.
“She looked quite upset,” Amelia said vaguely to Marlene, as the Hufflepuff boy peered into the cauldron to check the colour of the potion. “She’s a Gryffindor; do you know her?”
“Yeah, she’s called Lily,” Marlene explained awkwardly. “Me and Mary share a room with her.”
“That’s nice.” Amelia smiled distantly, not quite meeting Marlene’s eye. Mary was standing behind Amelia, who was obliviously arranging the vials back into their original order, and put her hands behind Amelia’s head, making a V-sign with her fingers to look like ears. Amelia remained concentrated and Marlene continued to watch, seeing how long it would take until the girl would notice. But she didn’t, and Mary stayed standing behind Amelia until Slughorn walked past to make sure they had cleared everything away.
***
Marlene rapped on the dormitory door. “Lily,” she called gently.
“What the bloody hell is she doing in there? I want my jumper.” Mary whispered, hands on her hips.
“Always the lady,” Marlene quipped.
“Yeah, but,” Mary said, her voice low, “it was this morning. It’s not like Slughorn told her off, it was that oily Severus boy.”
“They must be really good friends,” Marlene said pensively, more to herself than Mary.
“Lily!” Mary shouted, pounding on the door.
They pressed their ears to the door, but everything remained still.
“Lily, we just want to talk to you,” Marlene promised. “Also, um”—Mary nodded encouragingly at her—“Mary needs her jumper before supper, so—”
The door swung open, and they were met with the curious green eyes of Lily Evans, shining with dried tears.
“Sorry,” Lily said. Although she was no longer crying, her breathing was still troubled, and she was hiding her face behind her intense hair. Turning around, she went and placed herself onto her bed, and drew the curtains.
“Do you want us to bring you any food from the hall?” Mary asked, resonantly as though trying to be heard through the curtains, which Marlene didn’t think were very sound proof anyway.
Lily did not respond.
Marlene shrugged at Mary, and they both reached for their jumpers which lay in a heap on the floor and crept out of the door.
“My God,” Mary said. “I knew she was upset but I didn’t think she was that upset.”
“Maybe she’s tired,” Marlene said, quietly, in case anyone in the common room might hear them. Especially Lupin, or the bespectacled boy. “It’s not like we’ve all been sleeping that well, is it?”
“No,” Mary grinned, resting her arm in the crook of Marlene’s elbow. “Let’s not worry about it now. It’s Saturday tomorrow; we won’t have to wake up so early.”
“I bet we’ve got more work to do, though,” Marlene groaned.
Mary threw her head back, laughing. “Oh, Marlene,” she exclaimed, and they headed out of the portrait hole.