Chapter 7

                                    

                                          
Few days after the discussion. It was planned. Percy would turn himself as Professor Snape and bring the book. Simple as that. 
                          
A while later, Harry, Ron and Hermione were in the common room when Percy came back in oversized black dress robes.
                          
"Did you get it," Hermione asked?
                          
Percy nodded. "It was easy. They didn't even bother to speak to me. Lockhart told me that he should make the mandrake potion."
                          
" he's a brainless git," said Ron. "But who cares, we've got what we needed —" 
                          
"He is not a brainless git," said Hermione shrilly as they opened the book. Percy meanwhile went to his dorm and changed his clothes to normal school robes. When he came back.
                          
"Here it is," said Hermione excitedly as she found the page headed ThePolyjuice Potion. It was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people. Percy squinted trying to read the floating words.
                          
 "This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen," said Hermione as they scanned the recipe. "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass," she murmured, running her finger down the list of ingredients. 
                          
"Well, they're easy enough, they're in the student store-cupboard, we can help ourselves. . . . Oooh, look, powdered horn of a bicorn — don't know where we're going to get that — shredded skin of a boomslang — that'll be tricky, too"
                          
"I can get those." Percy volunteered. 
                          
"And of course a bit of whoever we want to change into."

                          
 "Excuse me?" said Ron sharply. "What d'you mean, a bit of whoever we're changing into? I'm drinking nothing with Crabbe's toenails in it —" 
                          
Hermione continued as though she hadn't heard him."We don't have to worry about that yet, though, because we add those bits last. . . ." 

                          
Ron turned, speechless, to Harry, who had another worry. 
                          
"D'you realize how much we're going to have to steal, Hermione? Shredded skin of a boomslang, that's definitely not in the students' cupboard. What're we going to do, break into Snape's private stores? I don't know if this is a good idea. . . "

                          
"Well, if you two are going to chicken out, fine," she said. There were bright pink patches on her cheeks and her eyes were brighter than usual. "I don't want to break rules, you know. I think threatening Muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion. But if you don't want to find out if it's Malfoy, I'll go straight to Madam Pince now and hand the book back in —" 

                          
 "All right, we'll do it. But not toenails, okay?"  Ron said.

                          
"How long will it take to make, anyway?" said Harry as Hermione, looking happier, opened the book again. 
                          
"Well, since the flixweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days . . . I'd say it'd be ready in about a month if we can get all the ingredients." 

                          
"A month?" said Ron. "Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggleborns in the school by then!" 
                          
But Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously again, and she added swiftly, "But it's the best plan we've got, so full steam ahead, I say." 
                          
However, while Hermione was checking that the coast was clear  Percy heard Ron muttered to Harry, "It'll be a lot less hassle if you can just knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow."
                          
Percy woke early on Saturday morning and lay for a while. After a few minutes, his ADHD started to act up, so he got up, dressed, and went down to breakfast early, where he found the rest of the Gryffindor team except Harry huddled at the long, empty table, all looking uptight and not speaking much.