At their next Potions class, they were all surprised to see Snape looking even worse than usual. He has always been pale and glowering, but that day he looked like death warmed over. Even his glittering eyes seemed dull. The dungeon was especially crowded with the two extra Houses squeezed in with them, but he didn’t even seem to care about that.

“We must’ve been right about the House of Bantling students driving him crazy,” Harry whispered to Ron.

“I like them already,” Ron grinned back. He was almost giggling. “Look at Malfoy!” Harry peeked over an empty cauldron to see Draco crammed in between two Bantling girls who were slowly crushing him as they talked animatedly. Malfoy was purple with anger and trying to squirm free, but he kept getting tangled in one of their arms and they pushed him down again.

“Enough!” snapped Snape, and the buzz of talk died down. There wasn’t room in the crowded dungeon for him to pace around like usual, so he stayed up front. Harry saw Raye looking at Snape with what looked like concern. She’d get over that in a hurry, he thought with an inward smile.

“Since it has become obvious that this dungeon can barely withstand the amount of blunders that occur with just half this many students, I don’t DARE let you try anything more difficult than a basic sleep potion,” the Potionmaster gave them each a glare. “Nothing explosive, just the chance that you’ll wake up ten years later with a mouthful of spiderwebs.”

A few of the Elmskill student grinned, but those who had Snape’s class before looked uneasily at Neville, who swallowed hard. Snape rescued Malfoy by making him pass out a small silver cauldron to everyone. His face was still rigid with anger. Now that Harry was paying attention, none of the Slytherin students looked very happy. Pansy Parkinson had a scowl that could’ve curdled milk. Crabb had four different signs stuck on his back that kept flashing different ‘Kick me’ messages. Goyle cringed every time the guy next to him moved a hand. The Bantling students seemed to be enjoying themselves though. Snape walked to each table to pass out supplies.

“Ground beartooth,” he said, holding up a small bottle of pale powder. “Extract of noddweed.” He plunked down a squat jug of purple fluid. “Three dormouse tails each, and exactly one gremlin toadstool each, and one drop of Lethe water.” He then held up a tiny vial, no bigger than his thumbnail. “This is the only component that SHOULD be any problem for those of you LESS than competent.”

Then, to the surprise of all, they were handed a written list of instructions and Snape disappeared into his supply room. Harry found himself and Ron maneuvering for elbow room with two of the Elmskill students who were sharing their dorms. Jonah was a tall strapping kid and Vahn had impressed them all with the tattoo his mother had given him when she started her tattoo parlor.

“This is great,” Vahn said, scanning the instructions. “Madame Yaga has us go dig our own toadstools and catch our own dormice to chop the tails off of.”

“And she’d hover over us like the shadow of death,” Jonah added, rolling his eyes. “And I do mean hover.” Ron and Harry just looked blank, so Vahn explained.

“Madame Yaga is 48 years into a 50 year curse,” he told them. “The Fetalus Curse. It curls your body up into a ball that you can’t straighten out for 50 years. Since it’s so hard for her to walk with her knees pulled up to her chest, she uses a Levitation spell to float around.”

“Weird!” chuckled Ron.

“Terrifying is what it is,” muttered Jonah., and then fell silent when Snape reappeared with an armful of scrolls and parchments. In the sudden hush, the snores of a Bantling student became clear. Everyone looked to see a girl collapsed on her table next to the cauldron. Neville squeaked in alarm and dropped his gremlin toadstool. It fell into his cauldron and went up in a cloud of smoke that went snaking around the room, making a whistling sound. The snoring student sat up to look at it too.

“I think you were supposed to add that in pieces,” she told Neville, looking the picture of innocence. Neville was red-faced and stammering as Snape slowly walked over. Harry felt a surge of anger at the Bantling student who was now mixing her potion as if nothing had happened. Snape’s shadow fell over Neville. At closer range, Harry could tell that Snape really DID look as if he’d dug out of his grave that morning. His eyes seemed more sunken and his movements stiffer. He didn’t even seem to have the energy to properly chew out Neville. He just stood there, looking down on him, not even flinching when the whistling smoke went by his nose.

Neville was shaking now and began stirring his potion furiously to avoid looking at Snape. The Potionmaster seemed on the verge of speaking. The beginning of a sneer twisted his lips, but then he seemed to lose interest.

“Ten points from Gryffindor.” he grumbled, then turned his back on them and went to his heap of scrolls. Neville looked as stunned as Harry felt. There HAD to be something wrong with Snape for him to pass up an opportunity like that. Malfoy looked positively betrayed. Snape hadn’t been this mellow last class. He hadn’t even been this way when they’d run into each other in the hall outside the infirmary. What had happened to him since then?? Maybe Professor Zephyr had, a little voice said. If she was a vampire, she could’ve gotten Snape when he was alone with her in the infirmary. Why had he been in there in the first place?

“Mine isn’t as dark a violet as yours,” Jonah said suddenly, pulling Harry’s attention away from Snape. The tall boy was looking from his cauldron to Harry’s. “Maybe I didn’t add enough noddweed.”

“Well, let’s ask,” Harry said, an idea flashing in his head. He took his cauldron in one hand and Jonah’s in the other. With most of the Gryffindors staring and Ron looking at him as if he was crazed, he led Jonah up to the main desk. Snape didn’t bother to look up. He was busy reading a scroll spattered in what looked very much like dried blood. Harry peered at the side of his neck for a bite mark.

“What?” Snape asked irritably, still not looking at them. Harry elbowed Jonah, who stepped up bravely. “Professor,” he said cheerfully. “We were just wondering...we put the same amount of noddweed extract in but our potions are two different colors.”

“Can you read?” Snape hissed, finally turning to fasten his eyes on them. Harry tried to check the other side of his neck without it looking like he was craning for a view of the scroll. Jonah got the full force of Snape’s glare and stood his ground.

“Um. Yes, sir.”

“Can you count?” Every word from the Potionsmaster seemed to carry more venom. Harry gave up, not seeing so much a freckle on Snape’s throat. Jonah was unquelled enough to nod again. “ I find that hard to believe. It seems to me that if you could both read and count you would have noticed that there are four instructions and the fourth one, if read, could explain your situation quite well without you wasting everyone’s time.”

He might have gone on, but Jonah thanked him at once and turned away before he could finish. He and Harry traded looks as they went back to their table. Harry expected the tirade to continue or at least have some more points removed, but Snape went back to reading with a disgusted sound. At that moment, a hand shot up from the other side of the room .

“Oh Professor Snape, Professor Snape,” One of the Bantling girls sang. “Draco keeps sticking his fingers in my potion!”

“I am not!” Malfoy nearly shouted. He was all but crushed between the two girls who were both much bigger than him. He tried to struggle to his feet, but the girl on the other side sank an elbow into his ribs that plopped him down again. “You did too! I saw you!”

Then, Malfoy called her a name that got everyone’s attention and she stood up herself to dump the jug of noddweed extract over his head with a shrill scream of fury. Harry and Jonah were safely back in their seats by this point, and well out of the way when Snape whirled around and roared detentions for Malfoy’s whole table, including a third Bantling who had been remarkably quiet through all this. Malfoy went three colors at once at this and a new hush fell over the room. No one could remember Snape ever punishing one of the Slytherin students.

Malfoy’s shock was short-lived however, for the his hair and skin started to shrivel where the noddweed extract had touched him. Hermione murmured something about it being strong stuff when it was pure. Malfoy yelped and began wiping at it with his robe sleeves, slinging more of it around. Crabb and Goyle had both gotten up to help him, but all they did was add to the mess by stepping on the quiet student and making him knock over his bottle of powdered beartooth into the spilled noddweed which created a surprisingly large cloud of smoke.

It was hard not to laugh at the squeals and flailing arms that were all that could be made out of the smoky confusion. There was a thud and the empty noddweed jug hit the floor with a smash, shattering . Still no one dared chuckle, because Snape had gotten to his feet and the look on his face would’ve made a boggart flinch. It seemed he had finally been annoyed enough to snap out of his lethargy. He pointed his wand into the fray and snarled out a spell that froze the whole room in place.

Harry was glad he had put the cauldrons down when his muscles all instantly seized up. His pulse felt suddenly painful as his heart tried to keep beating despite the stiffness. He had been watching the scene so his he could still see Snape stomp into the cloud and come out with a paralyzed student under each arm. When all six of them were clear, he took off the spell and Harry wasn’t the only one clutching his heart and glaring at the Potionsmaster. Was he trying to kill them all?

The smell of the spilled extract had now reached the whole room. It was a sharp, sweet smell that stung in the nostrils. Malfoy, Crabb, Goyle, and the girl (who’s name was Helene according to Snape’s tongue lashing) were all splattered in it. Snape called them idiots for just long enough for the smoke to clear and sent them all to the infirmary. Helene’s valkyrie friend was meekly cleaning the mess on their table, being very careful not to make eye contact with the Potionsmaster. Snape turned his glower on the rest of the class and they all buried themselves in the assignment. It was only a few minutes before the noddweed fumes had everyone sneezing, however. With a snarl that made Neville jump, Snape passed everyone a clear, corked bottle with a blank label on them.

“Finish it as homework,” he told them. “Next class they’ll be tested.” Then, he disappeared back into the supply room while the class poured their cauldrons into the bottles. Hermione neatly printed her name on the label and held it up to the light. It was a perfect shade of violet. Harry’s was still a few shade’s darker, but then he remembered to check the instruction list. Jonah was looking at it too.

“In our defense, it is way down on the bottom,” the tall boy said, grinning. “And printed pretty small, too.” Harry looked and found #4, which read: “Color of potion may vary, depending on the developmental stage of the toadstool. Adjust the noddweed amount accordingly.”

“You should really read the whole thing before you even start,” Hermione told him, pulling her satchel over one arm. Neville was looking mournfully at his potion, which wasn’t purple at all, but more of an ashy gray with darker specks floating around in it.

“Cheer up,” Ron told him. “You’re good with plants, look up those toadstools and see what you can do.” Neville nodded, but didn’t look encouraged.

“Professor Sprouts will help you.” Hermione added and they all hurried out of the room, rubbing their tingling noses. Ron was in a beautiful mood and all but skipped up the stairs.

“Did you ever think we would see the day when Malfoy got a detention in Potions??” He twirled his wand over his head until it threw green sparks. Harry grinned too, but Hermione shook her head.

“Snape must be sick.” she said. “He looked terrible, even for him, and he was so low-key...He didn’t even take away points when you asked questions.”

“Sharing a roof with the House of Bantling must be wearing him out,” sighed Chloe. “His first mistake was letting Helene and Anika sit together. That Draco kid didn’t stand a chance.”

The professor did seem strange,” said a new voice, and they all turned to see Raye. “You’re saying he isn’t usually like that?:

“No way!” laughed Dean, who had paused to hear their conversation. “Usually he’s spitting flames form the moment we come in until we leave.” Raye just looked thoughtful. Harry remembered seeing her outside the infirmary. She had looked so angry then, and so concerned in class. Did she know something about Professor Zephyr? Then, Ron grabbed his arm and pointed up the hall.

Hagrid was rushing by towards Dumbledore’s office. He was gray-faced and his hands were bloody. A few of the Slytherins made snide remarks on their being a sale on Beard De-Louser somewhere, but Harry barely noticed. He and Ron and Hermione hurried after, but were nearly run down as Hagrid, Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonall came tearing back..

“Hagrid, what’s wrong?” Harry called flattening against a wall as they sprinted past. McGonall shouted at them to stay inside over her shoulder and the four of them tore out the door. Harry heard Hermione drawing breath to second that, so he ran outside before she could say it. The rest of the Potions class was right after him. The four adults were heading across the grounds toward Hagrid’s shack where a group of younger students was gathered. Harry could see a bright red head of hair that he guessed to be Ginny. By the time they got there, Professor MacGonall had taken the role of crowd control once again and was curtly marching the younger students back towards the castle.

“None of that,” she snapped before Harry could even ask. “Escort these children back inside and STAY THERE!!” She was looking remarkably pale and Ginny’s class were looking eager to go themselves. Ron had maneuvered to Ginny’s side and found her absolutely green. Her hand was clamped to her mouth and she looked as if she could be sick at any moment. Harry was still trying to look around Hagrid to see what was going on. There was trail of dark red spatters leading to the spot from the Forbidden Forest. Madam Pomfrey moved and he could see Dumbledore holding what looked like a woman’s hand. Then, a leg kicked out from the other side of Hagrid. It was a horse’s leg, a white one.

It was a centaur, Harry guessed, and obviously a badly hurt one. Professor McGonall gave him a look and he hurried to catch up with Ron. Ron had put a protective arm around Ginny, who still looked stricken. Tears leaked down her face, but she didn’t try to wipe them away or make a sound.

“Don’t worry,” Harry told her. “ Madam Pomfrey can heal anything.” Ginny nodded weakly, leaning on Ron. “It was a centaur, wasn’t it?” She nodded again, the tears welling faster. Ron patter her shoulder uncomfortably. He wanted to question her as much as Harry did, but was holding back. The rest of her class was every bit as subdued. Harry’s eyes fell on Raye again. The small girl looked as distraught as the younger students and was fidgeting with her braid again. Her eyes shifted nervously and she kept looking over her shoulder.

“I’d never seen a centaur before,” Ginny said softly. They all looked at her. “And she would’ve been pretty if, if she hadn’t been torn up like that...”

“Did some animal attack her?” Harry forgot Raye to turn back to Ginny. The little redhead wiped away some tears and looked up at him. Her lips were trembling.

“The only thing,” she said beginning to tremble. “Keeping her human part connected to the horse part was her backbone! The horse part came running out of the woods and the human part was just flopping ! Just flopping around on the horse’s back!” As he pictured what that must have looked like, Harry felt his stomach lurch. Ron hugged Ginny closer to his side. Hermione was looking horrified too, but she raised her voice to be heard by the whole crowd.

“We should probably go back to our houses until our next class” she said, holding the door open. “They’ll tell us about it as soon as it’s over.” For once, nobody minded being told what to do. As the group branched off to their separate halls, Harry fell in next to Raye. She was still looking miserable.

“What’s up with Professor Zephyr?” he asked as casually as he could. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, expression quickly becoming sharp. “I was just curious,” Harry went on. “Because I went to see her yesterday and she kinda gave me the creeps.” Raye was silent for another long moment and then whispered.

“I’ll tell you later.” With that, she quickened her pace to join Chloe and disappeared into the dorm with the other girls. Ron invited Ginny to sit with him in the common room and she went, reluctant to let go of his hand. He and Harry sat by the fire and tried to cheer her up by telling her about their Potions class. The finally got a wobbly smile out of her when she heard about the riot between Malfoy, Crabb, Goyle, and the two Bantlings. Ron then left to sneak to the kitchens and bring her a treat. Harry was telling her about the Fetalus Curse when Hermione came down again. She handed Harry a small book bound in plain black canvas.

“Raye said you asked about this,” she said and then went to sit beside Ginny. Harry opened the book and a note fluttered out of it to the floor. It landed facing up on the hearth rug. The three of them looked at it. In smoke gray ink it said: Meet me by the fire after dinner. -R. Both Hermione and Ginny looked strangely at Harry who felt himself blush as he tucked it away again. A smug sort of silence fell over them. Harry was pretty sure the smugness came from Hermione. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Ginny who sniffled in the quiet.

Ron burst in with a tray of eclairs and egg salad sandwiches. They had a little party that seemed to cheer everybody but Ginny. Soon, the other classes let out and Fred and George arrived. They took over and soon most of the Gryffindors were down in the common room. Harry didn’t see Raye anywhere,so he found a corner to look at the book. At first it didn’t seem to make much sense. Then, he reached the ‘Necessary Equipment’ page and read over the list of garlic, silver, crossbows bolts made of ash wood, holy water, and other things more bizarre. It was a vampire-hunters guide book.

His earlier thoughts about Professor Zephyr came back. Was she a vampire? His next Defense Against the Dark Arts class wasn’t for another day. He wondered if he should go talk to Professor Moody at once, but then decided to meet Raye that night and talk to her about it first. He shoved the little book in his back pocket and decided to have another go at cheering Ginny. It had to be just his paranoia now, but he felt closely watched.

Story and art by me!