The Hate Potion, pt. 3

Lily thought, when she recovered, that Severus would be mad at the Marauders, and not upset with her. She was left with a less than vivid memory of what happened. Her guilt about what she’d said temporarily prevented her from considering the truth behind her words. 

“’Morning, Sev.” Lily studied his face, which appeared worn and tempered beyond thirteen years old. 

“Good morning.” 

“I’m sorry about whatever I said. If James shows his face at breakfast, I’ll hex him. You know what? We should do something to them. Give ‘em a bit of their own medicine. Sev, where are you going?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Lily looked to Harry, confusion clear. Raven sighed. “Lily, what you said really hurt him. Do you remember anything?” 

“I…” Lily thought for a moment, brow furrowing. “Yeah, I do. But he knew I had been cursed, or, what’d Remus say they used? A hate potion?”

Raven nodded. “They did use a hate potion, but I don’t think it’s that simple. Hate potions are different from Love Potions. A Love Potion blurs reality; it creates a dreamy sort of obsession. Hate potions, if they can, take what the person already feels. They make everything sharper. You know I’m bad at potions, but I remember Severus telling me because—well, because I wanted to make one.”

Lily put her head in her hands. “It was horrible. I felt as though I’d suffer if I didn’t tell him off. Like I’d waited my whole life to do so. “Don’t tell him I said this, but I understand what I said. It was awful, I know. But, he is mean to people.” 

So Lily is already harboring bad feelings for Severus, Harry thought. Maybe, the sooner Severus lost Lily, the sooner he could get her back.

The next day, James approached Harry, perhaps to apologize. Then, his true objective became clear; “If you help me with Lily, I promise to leave Severus alone for the rest of the year.” 

“This really isn’t a good time, James.” Unless the day after an incident, with the victim sitting ten feet away, was a good time. 

“Okay, all of us will leave him alone. And you can stop helping me if any of us mess up.”

“Well, that’s a start, because the first thing you could do to get Lily to like you is to not bully people.” 

“Wait, hang on, was that a yes?” 

As much as Harry didn’t want to agree, he didn’t believe there was another way they could connect. A week later, they met to discuss Lily.

James pulled out a piece of parchment. “Okay, I made a list of the top fifteen—no, sixteen—annoying gits who aren’t in Slytherin. There’s one or two people not on the list that we’ve pranked in the past year.”

“One or two people?”

“Hey, we have to compromise. I need to keep a couple—”

“A couple, as in two?”

“…a couple kids around in case I’m stressed and require a creative outlet.” 

It was weird, talking to his dad like this. The lure of his father’s acceptance was too great to refuse. If Harry made James a better person in the process, what was the harm? 

A day later, James returned to Harry with a new request. “I need you to ask Lily what she doesn’t like about me.”

“Do you really want to know?” 

“I’m prepared.” 

Harry waited until dinner. Things were strained between the friends. Maybe the mutual dislike of James would help unite them. 

“Lily, what don’t you like about James?”

“Why? You don’t like him, do you?” 

“No, I was just wondering.”

“Well, he’s a bully, he’s lazy, he’s arrogant, he’s not as good at Quidditch as he thinks he is…but, honestly, compared You-Know-Who and his followers…” 

Severus poked at his food. “So, you’re saying, because he tortures without killing, he’s better than the Dark Lord.”

“Torture? I wouldn’t say torture. And since when have you called You-Know-Who the ‘Dark Lord?’” 

“At least I don’t say ‘You-Know-Who’ in fear.” 

Time to intervene. “Whoa, who, remember, I only asked about James.” 

Severus wasn’t finished. “I would think, after everything James has done, you could easily say you hate him. It’s probably hard to resist someone who fancies you.”

Lily flushed. “How should you know, Severus? Your self-esteem is low enough that I can’t imagine you saying no to a girl if she asked you out.”

Severus’ mouth twitched. “That’s not true, and besides the point. I can tell you’re softening up to James.” 

“I can tell you’re being irrational.” 

Harry, desperate to leave their bickering, reported to James back in the common room. “Lily thinks you’re arrogant, lazy, and a bully.” 

“That’s not too bad. At least she didn’t say I wasn’t good-looking.”

That night, Lily was too annoyed at Severus to ask him for help with homework. “Hey, Remus?” 

Remus flinched and spilled his ink on the table. 

“Here, let me.” Lily charmed the mess with a swish of her wand. 

“Thanks, sorry.”

“No problem. Could you help me with my Defense Against the Dark Arts homework?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

“I thought you’d be able to help since you spend extra time with Mr. Darcer after class.” 

Harry hadn’t known about that. “Would you want to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts?”

“I don’t know yet. I know I want to be in the Order. Er, what—what about you, Lily?” 

“I want to be in the Order, too. Alice said my charm skills could be useful. She even suggested books for me to read that’d help me.”

“Good for you. Oh, did that—did that sound sarcastic? Because I meant it. Er, anyway, what was your question?” 

“Oh, right. I don’t get—” 

“Hey, Remus, Sirius needs your help.” James slid in next to them. “I can help you, Lily.” 

“No, thanks, I’ll just ask Jacob.”

James looked at Harry, eyebrows raised. 

Harry got the hint. “Actually, I forgot about something I have to do. I’m sure James knows how to help.” 

Harry joined Remus upstairs. 

“I think I’m ready to start moving on from Lily.” Remus didn’t seem upset; just tired. “It’s not something I can avoid—James constantly talks about her, and it’s even more of a problem this year. Well, it’s only a problem because I like her. It’s better that I give up instead of waiting for James to do something he’s never gonna do.” 

“Listen, Remus, it doesn’t have anything to do with your…situation, does it?” 

“Yeah, but that’s not the biggest reason. I think she’s always seen me as a friend.” 

“Okay. If you ever need to talk…” 

“Sure.” 

Now there were two lovesick people moping in bed. 

Lily and Severus’ relationship was not over because they rarely had to be around each other; it meant that it was easier to tolerate each other. They had been friends too long for them to call it quits, and they had the same best friends, who forced them to be careful about what they said.

The strain on Lily was tighter because of rumors about Severus. Mary McDonald and Lily’s third-year friend, Cassandra, filled her in (without her request) on everything they’d heard he was doing. Harry didn’t want to believe the wildest of the stories; that Voldemort was meeting with the greatest potential Death Eaters, including Severus. It couldn’t be true because Dumbledore would know, and if Dumbledore knew, he’d stop it. 

Regulus became Severus’ informal apprentice of the Dark Arts. He was the appropriate replacement for Raven; he was pureblood, eager to learn, and obedient. Harry noticed both Raven and Regulus casting each other a reproachful look when the other wasn’t paying attention. 

“Raven, I know you may not, er, want to answer stuff like this anymore, but this book was marked with your handwriting, and I was, well, I was wondering if you could explain it to me?” Regulus had his head bent down as he said this and tilted it up when he finished his request. 

Raven turned to face him. “Sorry, I’m not really up to that anymore. If you had questions with your homework, maybe, but…sorry.” 

“No, no, it’s fine, it was a dumb thing to ask.”

“You sure you want to use Study Hall time to study Dark Arts instead of, I don’t know, Potions?”

Regulus smiled. “I’m doing well in Potions. What about History?” 

“You’re in luck; I’m the best in my class.”

“I could use your help, then. Look, Raven, I’m sorry we never talk anymore.”

“No, it’s okay. You chose one path, I chose another.”

Harry, sitting next to Raven, listened to their conversation until, eyes wandering, he spotted Gilderoy Lockhart. 

Lockhart was sitting on one of the tables, blond curls gelled in place, telling an extravagant story that had taken place in Flitwick’s class. He already had a small circle of friends who seemed more like followers. None of them were girls, however. Harry noticed, surprised, that the girls nearby were ignoring him and clearly thought he was annoying. Funny how that worked.

Talk of the upcoming match against Hufflepuff seemed quiet compared to what had surrounded the match against Slytherin. Still, practices increased in order to prepare. If the Gryffindors won the Cup, Violetta would earn a spot in the trophy room for her efforts as Captain. 

Harry had recently been second in his dorm to leave in the morning. “Out for extra practices with Violetta, again, James?”

“Yeah, Walker. Sorry if I’m taking time away from you.” 

“Oh, no, of course not. It’s better that the players who need the most help get it.” 

“That’s not—you—I don’t—whatever.” 

Although James’ sessions with Violetta were meant to make Harry jealous, he did get better at being a Chaser. This may’ve helped Gryffindor win the game after Hufflepuff had a ninety-point lead. As James stole possession for the third time, the students in the stands began chanting, “Potter! Potter! Potter!” 

The Hufflepuff Seeker stayed closer to the ground, probably in case the Snitch repeated its strategy from the last game. The cheers for James were cut short as Harry chased the Snitch straight down, catching it as he was still vertical. 

Back in the common room for the post-game party, James approached Harry. “Good game.”

“You, too.” 

James took a sip of butterbeer. “It was cool, did you hear? Everyone chanted my name.” 

“How many goals did you score?” 

“Seven.” 

“How many assists?” 

“One.” 

“Well, you can work on that.” 

James nodded, thoughts elsewhere. “I meant to tell you that I don’t need help with Lily anymore. I think I have it under control.” 

“So, the deal’s off?” 

“Yeah. I’ll see you at practice, Jacob. And…thank you.” James considered shaking Harry's hand, then decided against it. 

The first signs of spring put everyone in a good mood. Lily tolerated James more easily, and Raven didn’t become dispirited whenever Severus was around. 

Harry wondered if Raven was moving on. He could tell she had never confessed how she felt to anyone, not even to Lily. It seemed she had given up trying to change Severus. 

Soon enough, it was May, and Violetta was giving her players a pep talk. “This is it. My last year, and last for some of you, too. I am so proud of everyone’s efforts. I want each of you to give it your all. The Ravenclaws will give us a clean game, and we have to do the same. I want to hear ‘Gryffindor’ on three. One, two, three, GRYFFINDOR! Let’s get ’em.” 

Harry rose up at the whistle, peaceful; Quidditch was the ultimate escape. In the nineties, he relished the sport because he could forget everything that had to do with Voldemort. Now, he could distance himself from the petty drama between his friends, and to fill the gaps left by the people back home.

Harry felt strongly that, as he took in the energetic spectators, the speeding pitch, and the towering castle, he should stay here, at his home, for at least another year. 

Hogwarts, where he had the simple responsibilities of a student; where choices were more clearly given to him. Where even the food was familiar. Where he had his real family instead of the one he’d made to replace them. 

Gryffindor was winning by forty points. Ravenclaw called a time-out and all the players touched down on the pitch. 

“Jacob, feel free to catch the Snitch, we have a big enough lead. James, you gotta pass. Anastasia was open four times, so trust her. Okay, let’s wrap this up.”

Harry spotted the Snitch immediately. It was trapped in the fray of the Chasers, flitting in the crosswind. One of the Ravenclaw Chasers noticed this and tried to point it out without Harry noticing. Distracted from what was going on around him, the Chaser was knocked out of the air. 

Both Seekers advanced toward the middle. Harry weaved between players, eyes on the flash of gold. The crowd was on its feet, cheering, even before his fingers even grazed the Snitch. The Gryffindor fans streamed down to the field.  

Violetta met the players with tears in her eyes. She kissed James on the cheek, and she exchanged a grin with Harry. She then went to him, took his face in her hands, and kissed him quickly for a second time. “Thank you, Jacob. What a brilliant job, everyone!” 

June 2nd. The day set aside for the transformation. The location: the Shrieking Shack. The Marauders, Raven, and Harry went to bed early the night before and got up at three. James used his invisibility cloak to conceal himself and some of their supplies, the others used Disillusionment charms to sneak out of the castle. 

On the lower level of the Shack, the six laid out the materials. There were three cauldrons full of potion, eight books, and five sets of parchment that detailed the procedure, each composed of three double-sided pieces. 

First, Remus and Raven prepared the potions. Each participant downed a glass of the concoction, which seemed to be designed solely to ward off anyone too weak for the process. After swallowing, Harry felt as though his entire body was on fire, then ice, then fire once more (for good measure, it seemed). 

Next, Sirius, Harry, and James performed a series of complicated spells, hurrying to stay within the three hour time limit. 

The second to last step was writing runes on each person’s arms and legs. If the procedure leading up to this step had been completed correctly, the runes would melt into the person’s skin and disappear. 

Raven had been chosen to do the drawing of runes. She used brushes dipped in a mixture of crushed, deactivated Erumpent horn and a small amount of dragon blood. It was the most awkward stage, as it required everyone to pull up their pant leg and resist flinching as Raven applied the ticklish, cold substance. 

When the runes were no longer visible, they all cheered. There was only one remaining step: to drink a small amount of potion. 

James held up his cup, the others did the same. Remus held up an empty one. “Well, this is it. Over a year’s worth of hard work, and we made it, with ten minutes to spare. Is everyone ready? Okay, one, two, three!”

Harry swallowed his potion, which tasted similar to butterbeer. A tingling spread across his body, then he felt as though he were Apparating. 

Harry was the last to collapse.