Light Poisonous Plot

It happened at lunch on Thursday.

All the first years had the morning off due to having Astronomy at midnight the night before. You and Draco took full advantage of the lie in because you had another one of the sadistic Captain Flint’s grueling Quidditch practices the night before. The two of you were feeling extra sore as you made the long trek up from the dungeons to the Astronomy tower afterwards.

Only the Friday evening practice remained before the big Slytherin versus Ravenclaw match on Saturday. One more practice to survive. You were in the home stretch.

You and the nine other first year Slytherins were all having lunch together before you prepared to go to your first lesson of the afternoon which was Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Quirrell, followed by ‘nap time’ hosted by the most boring ghost in Hogwarts - ‘Professor’ Binns.

Lunch started off with a heap of drama. You and the other first years, as well as almost every other Slytherin, turned at the sound of Lysandra Yaxley shouting at some poor bloke.

“YOU UTTER BASTARD!” Yaxley then hauled off and slapped the older Slytherin wizard, whose name you didn’t know, right in the face.

She stood up and stalked off. You and the other first years looked down in an effort to avoid eye contact with the angry fifth year as she stormed by on her way out of the Great Hall.

You looked over at Blaise who was seated beside you, “Is she still your dream girl?”

“Of course,” Blaise replied with a small smile, “And now she’s very clearly single.”

“That girl will eat you alive,” you warned him as you idly rubbed your ear.

“I’m just glad we’re done with Charms class for the week,” Pansy complained. “I was getting sick watching Marvolo make eyes at the Jones girl from across the room.”

“Here we go again,” Draco groaned from his seat across the table and further down. He’d been right last Saturday when he warned you that Pansy wouldn’t like your sudden interest in Megan Jones. But like you said when he issued the warning, you really couldn’t bring yourself to care what she thought.

However… you’d be damned if you let her get the last word in on the subject.

The other Slytherins knew what was coming and settled in to watch yet another one of your and Pansy’s verbal sparring matches. They had gotten more frequent over the last week.

“What’s the matter, Parkinson?” you countered. “Jealous?” You decided to further irritate her by craning your neck and cast a pointed glance in the direction of the Hufflepuff first years. It was, obviously, a complete coincidence that ever since lunch last Saturday that you sat on the far side of the Slytherin table… which ‘conveniently’ gave you a view of the Hufflepuff table.

“As if you even have a chance with her!” Pansy snarled. Shows what she knew. You also noticed, ever since that Saturday, Megan seemed to always sit on the far side of the Hufflepuff table which - also conveniently - gave her a view of the Slytherin table. “I bet she thinks you’re an arrogant blowhard too!”

There was probably a good retort there involving the words ‘blow’ and ‘hard’ but you really didn’t want to deal with Parkinson harping on about your wand again.

“You’d lose that bet,” you retorted instead. “Because she thinks I’m charming. And she appreciated the nerve I showed when I, a lone serpent, sat with a group of eight badgers which consisted of five English witches and wizards, two Welsh, and one Scotsman while wearing robes of the Irish National team and basically cheered ‘Go Ireland’.”

“It’s never going to happen, you idiot!” the bitch barked. “She’ll never trust someone from such a historically dark family!”

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s just the case with Abbott and Bones,” you replied. “But I’m not looking to date either of them.” You paused for a beat and then smirked when you added, “I guess that puts them in the same boat as you.”

Ooo! She didn’t like that one! In fact, Blaise let out a groan and remarked from next to you. “Someone get her some burn paste…”

Pansy’s face went red and her glare intensified.

But you were saved from Pansy’s, no doubt, scathing response when you heard a shout of alarm come from further down the Slytherin table.

In retrospect, you probably would have preferred to endure Pansy’s scathing response compared to what actually happened.

The shouting continued from midway down the table and got progressively louder as a bunch of the older Slytherins stood up and started forming a circle of gawking observers. Whatever was happening was taking place on the ground in between the Slytherin and Hufflepuff tables. Speaking of which, the Hufflepuffs noticed the commotion and a bunch of them had joined the growing circle of gawkers.

Draco stood up and called down the table. “What’s going on?”

Your second favorite fifth year prefect, Damian Perriss, turned and waved you off, “Stay back, first years. Someone’s been poisoned.”

A series of shocked gasps rang through your group.

“Rest in peace, husband number three,” Blaise quipped.

Normally, you would’ve reprimanded him for making such a dark and very poorly timed joke but you were busy patting down your pockets and eventually let out a sigh of relief when you felt the familiar shape of a round stone.

“Screw that,” you spat as you sprang to your feet and raced along the table. But you found yourself blocked when you reached the edge of the standing crowd that were craning their necks to see what was happening on the floor on the other side. Every one of the students in that human wall was taller than you so there was absolutely no hope of seeing over it.

That meant, your only hope was going around it.

You vaulted up onto the table and kicked dishes out of the way as you tried to see over the taller students. You spotted Cassius Warrington down on his knees at the center of the crowd.

“WARRINGTON!” you shouted as you pulled out the small black pouch. “I’ve got a bezoar! CATCH!”

You chucked the pouch at him and your Quidditch teammate reached up and easily caught it. He loosened the pouch’s drawstring and pulled out the gross little goat stone then reached down to, presumably, stuff it in the mouth of whoever had been poisoned.

“GET. DOWN. GAUNT.” Professor Snape’s harsh tone cut through the crowd and the students parted as your Head of House stormed down the aisle between the tables. Professor McGonagall hurried along in her younger colleague’s wake. Further behind them, back at the Staff Table, your main suspect of the poisoning had ‘fainted’ in his chair upon hearing the cause for the commotion. After all, he was the one behind the last public **** attempt on a student. Of course, no one else in the Great Hall suspected him.

Professor Snape reached the center of the circle of students and you were finally able to peer through the parting crowd to see who your bezoar had saved…

Your breath caught in your throat when you instantly recognised Slytherin Keeper Miles Bletchley. His face was a deep purple and he was taking gasping breaths.

Sure, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t desperately want to play Keeper for Slytherin… but you NEVER wanted the position to come at the cost of another student’s life!

“What. Happened?” Professor Snape demanded as he swooped down like a cloaked bat to kneel beside Warrington and check on Bletchley.

“He was just drinking his pumpkin juice like normal,” answered Graham Montague, who was kneeling on Bletchley’s other side. “But then he started coughing, and then he started ****, and then fell off the bench… and then he started wheezing… and then he stopped breathing!”

“He’s just started breathing again,” Cassius Warrington reported then glanced up at you. “Gaunt threw me that bezoar just in time.”

“He’ll live,” Professor Snape announced as he stood up. “FLINT! Get Bletchley to the Hospital Wing now.”

Your tall and imposing Quidditch Captain shouldered his way through the crowd of students and easily hefted the fallen, purple-faced, third year over his shoulder. The crowd parted for him as he rushed out of the Great Hall.

“Which cup was his?” Professor Snape asked Bletchley’s two friends.

Montague pointed to a toppled goblet on the table. Professor Snape grabbed the goblet and held his hooked nose over it as he sniffed it.

From your vantage point standing on the table, you were able to get a glimpse down into the empty cup and saw a faint trace of blue which stood out amidst the pulpy orange residue of the pumpkin juice.

“Syrup of Hellebore,” the Potions professor concluded. His dark gaze flickered up to you. “Gaunt, ten points to Slytherin for quick thinking and saving another student’s life. Two points FROM Slytherin for climbing over the furniture like an animal after I specifically told you to get down.”

You looked over his shoulder and watched as ten emeralds dropped down into the bottom of the Slytherin Hourglass… only for two of them to immediately fly back up into the top.

That hesitation cost you because continuing to stand on the table drew unwanted attention and scrutiny toward you.

“How very convenient…”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at the Head of Gryffindor House standing behind Professor Snape. Her square spectacles were fixed directly on you.

Professor Snape turned and fixed her with a hard stare, “What are you implying, Minerva?”

Professor McGonagall returned the stare, “I’m merely remarking upon the fact that Bletchley was Slytherin’s Keeper… and your Potions prodigy, as Reserve Keeper, has the most to gain should something unfortunate happen to Bletchley so close to a Quidditch match.”

Your jaw dropped and you stared at the Deputy Headmistress in wide-eyed, slack-jawed shock. She thought YOU poisoned Bletchley!?!?

“WHAT!?” an outraged voice on the far side of the Hufflepuff table shouted.

Normally, you were fairly quick-witted as your verbal spars with Pansy Parkinson proved. But the Deputy Headmistress just PUBLICLY ACCUSED YOU OF ATTEMPTED **** IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE SCHOOL so you were understandably flustered as you continued to stand on the table gaping like an idiot.

Montague and Warrington sent harsh glares your way as a quiet and very suspicious murmur slowly traveled through the crowd of gawking students.

“ARE YOU CRAZY!?” a familiar voice suddenly yelled from right behind you. A pair of arms snaked around your waist and you were pulled down off the table and set on the floor. A familiar bust pressed into your shoulders as your favorite prefect continued to speak up in your defense. “He’s fourteen! Just a first year!”

Hearing someone speak up in your defense caused your heart to start beating again. And your mind slowly started to spin.

“I didn’t even know Bletchley was the one who was poisoned!” you insisted. “I only heard Prefect Perriss say that someone had been and then I ran over as soon as I checked that I still had my bezoar in my pocket.”

“Yes, and how many first years regularly walk around with a bezoar in their pocket?” Professor McGonagall countered both your and Gemma’s defense at once. “The fact that Gaunt just so happened to have the very thing that would save Bletchley’s life at the exact moment he needed it… is what I find so convenient about this whole situation. Under normal circumstances, saving the victim would usually draw attention away from the culprit.”

It was a damning accusation. She clearly thought you were lying to defend yourself so you highly doubted she’d believe you if you told her you always had a bezoar handy in your pocket because you had a standing order to have a new one delivered every month since back in September.

“You’re wrong, professor.”

The quiet voice cut through the crowd almost as effectively as Professor Snape’s loud shout. The students parted and suddenly everyone was staring at none other than Harry Potter.

Professor McGonagall looked taken aback at being called out by a Gryffindor. “What’s that, Potter?”

“I mean… Gaunt’s been carrying a bezoar around in his pocket since September,” Harry stated. “In our very first Potions class Sna–er… Professor Snape started asking me questions I didn’t know the answer to. One of them was where to find a bezoar. I didn’t even know what a bezoar was. And then to rub it in even further, Professor Snape asked Gaunt the same question about a minute later. Gaunt’s answer was ‘in my pocket’ and then he pulled one out. Professor Snape told him to replace it every month.”

A louder murmur ran through the Slytherin portion of the crowd as they recalled Malfoy boasting about the class in question.

And then your blonde roommate spoke up, “Potter’s right. Marvolo has a standing order with my family’s apothecary. I can owl my father and have him send a record if you need evidence.”

You did a double take.

Professor McGonagall did a double take.

Professor Snape did a double take.

Half the students in the Great Hall did a double take.

HARRY AND DRACO did a double take as they realised they just AGREED on something. Draco even actually said the words ‘Potter’s right’.

You were especially grateful for the miraculous occurrence because it was that very thing which caused Professor McGonagall to rethink her accusatory stance.

“Perhaps…” Professor McGonagall said as her mouth became a very thin line. “I judged too harshly and was jumping to conclusions… Mr. Gaunt, take another ten points for Slytherin… as well as my apologies.”

The bad news was you just got publicly accused of attempted ****.

However, the good news was that, with the eighteen House Points you just earned, your personal total was now up to NINETY. You were closing in on triple digits!

“Mark my words!” Professor Snape called out loudly and clearly as he held up Bletchley’s poison goblet. “If I find out a student was responsible for this… I will not only have that person expelled… but I will see to it that I personally escort the perpetrator to Azkaban!”

Your Head of House’s dark, probing, tunnel-like gaze was moving from one surrounding student to the next as if trying to assess right then and there which one was responsible.

Unfortunately, you knew he was looking in the wrong direction.

Gemma clapped her hands on your shoulders and gave you a reassuring squeeze then leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Are you alright?”

“I just got accused of poisoning a housemate…” you replied. “I’m splendid.”

“Then let’s get you away from the scene of the crime,” she decided as she used her hold on your shoulders to steer you around and escorted you back to your spot at the Slytherin table. She took a moment to survey your fellow first years. “He’s still, understandably, a little shaken after McGonagall called him out. Keep an eye on him. Parkinson, shut your gob or you’ll spend the rest of the afternoon under a Silencing Charm.”

It was quiet in your section of the table but you could easily hear the buzz of conversation drifting through the Great Hall. It didn’t take a genius to deduce what was being discussed. You also noticed that no one seemed to be eating or drinking after what happened to Bletchley.

Blaise was the one who broke the silence, “I had no idea Hogwarts Quidditch was so cutthroat.”

“Really?” you retorted. “Then I guess, back in November, you weren’t watching the same Gryffindor vs Slytherin match that I was when another student was nearly murdered.”

“Do you think the same person was responsible this time?” Pansy inquired. It was - surprisingly - not a bitchy comment. And at the same time it was also a quiet admission that she knew you weren’t responsible.

“They’re my top suspect,” you replied as you glanced to the side. Professor Snape was still interrogating the third years midway down the table. Professor McGonagall had returned to her spot at the Staff Table. And Professor Quirrell had finally woken up from his ‘faint’.

“Then it probably wasn’t them,” Daphne weighed in. “In a proper mystery it’s never the first person you suspect. That first suspect is called a 'red herring’ and they’re meant to lead you away from the true culprit.”

“Greengrass, were you not in the Great Hall just now?” you questioned as you rounded back on her. “I was the first person everyone suspected!”

“I never did.” You turned to look at your best friend, who was back in her seat across from you. “Not for one second. Anyone with any kind of sense or who knows the first thing about you would know that McGonagall was completely in the wrong there.”

You smiled at her and reached across the table to grab her hand and give it a squeeze. “Thanks, Millie, it’s great to know you’ll always believe in me.”

Suddenly, Millicent and Pansy were pushed apart and you found yourself staring into the familiar dark eyes of Megan Jones as she leaned across the table in between them. “I didn’t think it was you either!”

You grinned at her, “Did you run all the way over here to say that?”

“Well, yeah,” she replied. “It needed to be said. Last Saturday, you made it clear that you didn’t mind being a reserve. And a proper Parkin fan would never pull something so underhanded.”

You smiled, “Thanks, Megan.”

She nodded then flashed you another one of her cute dimpled smirks as she reached down and grabbed your hand that was still partially extended from when you grabbed Millie’s and gave it a squeeze. “Like I heard Bulstrode saying when I was running over… anyone with any kind of sense knows you’re not a murderer. I’ll talk to Professor Sprout and see if the Head Hufflepuff can help Professor Snape FIND who took that Hellebore from the greenhouse.”

There was that ‘Hufflepuff/finders’ joke that you didn’t get again. One day you’d have to ask her about it. But not in front of all your housemates.

“I appreciate that,” you said, “Thanks again, Megan.”

She nodded and gave your hand another quick squeeze before she pulled back. “Oh! And if you DO end up playing Keeper in the match on Saturday, I’ll be sure to cheer for you! What was it you said the other day? Make the most of your opportunity when your chance finally arrives? Gotta make the best of a bad situation. If you put on a good showing… maybe I’ll talk to Gwen about getting those two Tornados tickets.”

“I’ll do my best then,” you assured her with a nod. She left and you found yourself in much better spirits after the short interaction.

The same could not be said for the two Slytherin girls sitting across from you. Pansy was scowling and Millicent was sporting a small frown. Parkinson never needed an excuse to be in a foul mood as she often woke up in one but you wondered what upset Millicent. Maybe it was because Megan stole her thunder by piggybacking off the thing she said?

Still, you decided to rub some salt in the wound while you had Parkison on the back foot so you turned to her and grinned. “And you thought I didn’t have a chance with her!”

Pansy flinched for a second but then her glare intensified as her face started to turn red. She opened her mouth to say something that was, no doubt, particularly insulting but hesitated and cast a wary glance down the table in Gemma’s direction.

Her extra vindictive insult was discarded and instead she simply snapped, “YOU’RE A DICK!” Then she stood up and stormed off.

“I’m gonna go too,” Millicent announced. “I lost my appetite after what just happened.”

She meant the poisoning, right?

Daphne’s glare as she and Tracey got up and followed after the other two girls told you that you might’ve been a bit off the mark there.

“I think I’ll still write to my father to get those sales records,” Draco decided. “He’ll want to know that you used one of our bezoars to save a fellow student’s life.”

“Thanks for backing me up earlier, Draco,” you said, “I’m sure being seen publicly agreeing with Potter must’ve been hard for you… and I appreciate that you did it.” He nodded then got up and left for the Owlery.

You were left with Blaise, Theodore, Vincent, and Gregory. Crabbe and Goyle were eying their unfinished lunches with pained expressions. You knew how much they liked to eat so you attempted to reassure them, “Guys, Montague said that Syrup of Hellebore took Bletchley down really quick. You were already eating that stuff before everything happened. If it was poisoned… you’d already be dead.” The two gave a sigh of relief and continued their meal.

The incident at lunch definitely left you unsettled. Not so much that someone was poisoned right in front of everyone. But how quickly you found yourself as the top suspect for a crime that you didn’t commit. You were from a traditionally dark family and were sorted into the darkest of the four Hogwarts houses. Professor McGonagall and a number of others were very quick to pin the crime on you since you were the one with the most to gain. That was a glimpse of how quickly the rest of the school could turn on you when you got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Interestingly enough, it had been the relationships you were building OUTSIDE of Slytherin that shifted a lot of the blame off you. You put a fair amount of effort into befriending Potter and he spoke up for you in front of everyone. And your recent foray into the Badger’s Lair had resulted in a Hufflepuff ally in Megan Jones. Now you had a defender in that house as well.

It seemed as though branching out and building relationships in other houses was already beginning to benefit you. Perhaps you could befriend some Ravenclaws too? Although, your history with Terry Boot and the upcoming Quidditch match against them might put a damper on that.

Marvolo Gaunt House Point Ledger

Severus Snape: +10

Severus Snape: -2

Minerva McGonagall: +10

New Total: +90

Points awarded by: SS, RH, QQ, MM, FF, + AD