2 | CONFESSIONS° HARRY POTTER

14 | FELIX FELICIS

ACT FOUR, grief
CHAPTER FOURTEEN, felix felicis

"Did you hear about what happened with the Montgomery sisters?" asked Tracey. She and the others were getting ready to leave to take their Apparition Test while Iris stayed behind. She looked up at her friend and shook her head. The Montgomery sisters were two witches in their house. Iris knew them because they were friends with Astoria. "Their little brother was attacked by a werewolf. Everyone's saying it's because their mother refused to help the Death Eaters . . . he was only five years old. He died in St. Mungo's, they couldn't save him."

"What?" Iris asked, incredulously. Werewolves didn't kill often, it usually only happened when they got carried away. She thought about how awful it must be for those sisters. She couldn't even imagine losing Oliver. Iris thought about what Tracey said about the rumor that the mother refused to help the Death Eaters. "Was the werewolf that killed him Fenrir Greyback?"

"That's the rumor." Tracey shook her head. "This whole thing is just awful. I don't understand how anyone can support someone who allows innocent children to die. These dreadful things that are happening all come back to him . . ."

The bell rang overhead in the castle and Tracey jumped to her feet, looking terrified.

"You'll do fine," Iris said as they headed towards the entrance hall to meet the rest of the people taking the Apparition Test. "Good luck!"

There were only four of them in Potions that afternoon: Harry, Iris, Ernie, and Draco.

"All too young to Apparate just yet?" said Slughorn genially. "Not turned seventeen yet?"

They shook their heads.

"Ah well," said Slughorn cheerily, "as we're so few, we'll do something fun. I want you all to brew me up something amusing!"

"That sounds good, sir," said Ernie sycophantically, rubbing his hands together. Draco, on the other hand, did not crack a smile.

"What do you mean, 'something amusing'?" he said irritably.

"Oh, surprise me," said Slughorn airily.

Draco opened his copy of Advanced Potion-Making with a sulky expression. It could not have been plainer that he thought this lesson was a waste of time. Iris eyed Draco from the corner of her eye as she got started on creating the Alihotsy Draught.

Was it her imagination, or did Draco, like Tonks, look thinner? Certainly he looked paler; his skin still had that grayish tinge, probably because he so rarely saw daylight these days. But there was no air of his usual smugness, excitement, or superiority; none of the swagger that he had. . . . There could be only one conclusion, in Iris's opinion: His mission, whatever it was, was going badly.

"Well, now, this looks absolutely wonderful," said Slughorn an hour and a half later, clapping his hands together as he stared down into the sunshine yellow contents of Harry's cauldron. "Euphoria, I take it? And what's that I smell? Mmmm . . . you've added just a sprig of peppermint, haven't you? Unorthodox, but what a stroke of inspiration, Harry, of course, that would tend to counterbalance the occasional side effects of excessive singing and nose-tweaking. . . . I really don't know where you get these brain waves, my boy . . . unless —"

Iris resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"— it's just your mother's genes coming out in you!"

"Oh . . . yeah, maybe," said Harry.

Ernie was looking rather grumpy; determined to outshine Harry for once, he had most rashly invented his own potion, which had curdled and formed a kind of purple dumpling at the bottom of his cauldron. Slughorn had praised Iris's Alihotsy Draught. It was an advanced potion that they hadn't learned in their previous years and it causes hysterical laughter. Draco was already packing up, sour-faced; Slughorn had pronounced his Hiccuping Solution merely "passable."