PURIFY : Fred Weasley

22: Deserted

Once I'm out, I still have to serve a detention with Professor Snape. He spends at least an hour lecturing me on murtlap tentacle. So far, we've covered that it has certain healing properties, and that, more importantly, it provides resistance to dark charms. One is less likely to be hit by a curse if they've consumed murtlap tentacle.

It's all elementary.

"What will be a side effect of overdoes on murtlap tentacle?" Professor Snape asks me.

I am acutely aware of how straight my body is. I'm upright, trying to pay attention. Fake it until you make it, I guess. Every part of me is more rigid than the last.

"It will turn your ear hairs purple," I tell him.

"And why does an overdose turn your ear hairs purple in colour?" he continues.

I don't know why. No one knows why. I think. Although, I could be wrong.

Professor Snape stands above me. "Need I repeat myself?" he asks.

"No, Professor," I bite my lip, trying to think of the solution. "I just don't know."

The professor takes a step backwards. He moves over to the chalkboard and stares it down.

"You don't know?" he grumbles with his back to me.

"No one knows," I answer. "You'd think it would also dye one's nose hairs purple, but it doesn't. It does not affect hearing, it does not affect the brain, so no one is quite sure why it dyes the ear hairs purple."

Professor Snape turns around. "Do you want to be a potioneer or not?"

"I do," I insist. "I really do."

I don't take the time to question if I do or don't. It is my only option out. If I can brew Felix Felici, I can set up my own private studio, and I can brew potions for the wealthy. On the side, I can innovate myself, become a true potioneer, rather than a brewer.

The future is apparent before me. I want it. Imaging days spent in a room, surrounded by components and ingredients, with a flat to myself. If Professor Snape can give it to me, I will do what he requires of me.

"What was it like, brewing Felix Felici for the first time," I ask.

Professor Snape pauses. He turns to face me and swallows. I watch his Adam's apple bob up and down. His lips form into more of a scowl than his usual frown.

"You haven't, have you?" I ask.

He doesn't answer me. Rather, he turns his back to me.

"Some scholars believe that the murtlap tentacle has anti-gravity defying properties, but that wizards and witches just can't tolerate the dose required to-"

"You're sending me on a fool's errand," I interrupt him, getting up out of my chair. "You can't even brew it, and you're expecting me to do it without blowing my own eyebrows off."

"Miss Travers," he warns.

I shake my head. It's definitely Fred getting to me, but I don't want to hide my anger. I want to be authentically me.

"I could die," I point out. "Haven't you thought of that, Professor?"

A voice does the tiniest and softest of coughs in the doorway. It's the kind designed to get your attention, rather than to clear the throat. I turn around and spot Professor Umbridge standing in the doorway. She stares us down.