Dark 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 across the table and to the side, “Do you still think she’s hot?”

“She didn’t fry him with lightning,” Blaise pointed out, drawing a comparison to Yaxley and the Dark Lady from the Dark Horse comic you read. “I’d say he got off lightly.”

“Hey Marvolo... speaking of stuff from Saturday,” Millicent spoke up from her seat on the bench beside you. “Do you think Professor Quirrell will give back your extra credit essay in class? I’m kind of curious to read it after you let Daphne help you finish it. It was about bypassing a dark creature, right?”

“...” Theodore drummed his hand on the table from Millicent's other side which told you she wasn’t the only one interested in reading your extra credit essay.

“It was but I doubt he’ll return it,” you answered. “He gave me two House Points when I turned it in though. According to my ledger, that brings me up to sixty-eight total.”

“Two measly points for a five foot essay?” Daphne questioned from directly across from you. “Seems stingy if you ask me.”

You gave her a pointed look to remind her that you were just happy to still be alive.

“That’s three total that I’ve gotten from him,” you said. “The key to getting points from Professor Quirrell is by going above and beyond by doing extra work outside of class. The first point he gave me was from all the way back in September when he taught me a spell after he overheard me mumbling to myself about finding a spell to use on Potter and Weasley in a duel.”

“Quirrell taught you the Stinging Jinx?” Draco questioned from across the table beside Daphne.

“That might’ve been the only really useful thing he taught all year,” Pansy snarked from her spot beside you and across from him.

You sighed to yourself. You saw Daphne’s eyes narrow suspiciously at the bit about the Defense professor teaching you that spell in the hopes that you would use it against Potter and his friend. Beside her, Tracey’s eyes narrowed too. But the dangerous implication seemed to go over everyone else’s head. Professor Quirrell was just that good at convincing everyone he was a useless, stuttering buffoon.

“Thanks for teachin’ it to us,” Gregory spoke up from Draco’s other side. He and Vincent picked up the Stinging Jinx surprisingly quickly when you taught it to them over the holidays as a way of thanking them for unknowingly serving as your cover while you investigated Hagrid. Although, the fact that they were so excited to cause others pain was a bit unsettling. That was probably why you hadn’t taught them the even more painful hex version.

“Yeah, well, it’s a fairly easy spell,” you replied. “But as I discovered when I was dueling Weasley, it’s handy to have a quick and easy spell that you can cast while your opponent’s busy with a longer incantation.”

And that was when you heard the shout of alarm come from further down the Slytherin table.

The shouting continued from midway down the table and got progressively 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.

You were pleased to hear that Blaise had learned from your Thestral research on Saturday and didn’t make a morbid comment about his mother’s third husband being poisoned at a Ministry function while he was sitting across from Theodore.

But you also remembered what you were researching when he told you that bit of morbid information on your first day of classes back in September and hastily patted 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.

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!

You couldn’t fight the sinking feeling in the pit of our stomach as a dark thought crossed your mind. Had you just received your extra credit? This gave much more context to your cryptic exchange with Professor Quirrell when you turned in your special assignment. With Bletchley poisoned this likely meant that you WOULD be playing Keeper on Saturday.

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

“PROVE IT!” an outraged voice yelled from back where you came from. It sounded like Daphne.

Normally, you were proud to say that you were fairly quick-witted but the Deputy Headmistress just PUBLICLY ACCUSED YOU OF ATTEMPTED **** IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE SCHOOL so you were understandbly 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.

The Gryffindor Head of House was out to get you... so you turned to your own Head of House, who not only was the very man who told you to replace your bezoar every month... but could also READ MINDS!

“I didn’t!” you insisted as you stared directly into Professor Snape’s dark, tunnel-like eyes. You didn’t need to worry about hiding any guilt since you were completely innocent. You reflected on the alarm you felt when Perriss first said someone had been poisoned, your genuine relief at feeling the familiar shape of the bezoar in your pocket, and your utter shock when you finally saw who your bezoar had saved.

And then, because he was hopefully reading your mind and no one else was any wiser, you threw in the chilling quote from your chief suspect. A man that Professor Snape was already highly suspicious of and was working actively against.

“Thank you, professor. Best of luck.”

“And to you as well in the Quidditch match on Saturday.”

Before your Head of House could delve too far into what you were doing there, you quickly followed up with the cryptic threat before his other public **** attempt.

“Let us hope that everyone playing today remains healthy.”

The entire silent mental exchange took only a couple seconds. That was all the time Professor Snape needed to process your train of thought. To his credit, he didn’t immediately turn around to look at the Staff Table where a certain man with a purple turban was still feigning having fainted.

“You’re wrong, Minerva,” Professor Snape informed his colleague as he slowly turned to her. “I know for a fact that Gaunt has been carrying around a bezoar since September because I was the one who specifically told him to replace it every month.”

“That’s right!” Draco called out from back behind you. “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.”

Your Head of House cast another glance back at you, “Gaunt, take another ten points to Slytherin for being prepared for an emergency and for having to suffer under a professor’s baseless accusation.”

“Baseless?” Professor McGonagall repeated. “He has the most motive out of anyone.”

“But does he have the means?” Professor Snape countered. He glanced over in the direction of the Hufflepuff table and his eyes locked on a particularly tall girl, “Applebee, in which greenhouse does Professor Sprout keep the Hellebore?”

“Greenhouse Five,” the Hufflepuff fifth year responded when prompted.

“And are first years allowed in that greenhouse?” The Potions professor inquired.

“No…” Applebee replied, “Only fifth year and up are allowed in there. But he still could’ve owl-ordered it like he did with the bezoars!”

You heard the Slytherin fifth year behind you growl. You didn’t need to see Gemma to know that she was glaring daggers at her rival. “Do you have any idea the kind of scrutiny a fourteen year old would be under if they ordered a highly poisonous substance through the post?” Probably as much as one who ordered a Class B Tradeable dragon horn to brew a Fire-Breathing Potion.

“Perhaps… we should move this discussion elsewhere?” Professor McGonagall suggested as she surveyed the surrounding crowd of students which had now grown to include the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors.

“Absolutely not,” Professor Snape refused. “You called a student from my house an attempted murderer in front of everyone here. I find it only fitting that I prove you wrong in front of that same audience.” He turned and pointed the poisoned goblet at Montague and Warrington, “Montague, before Bletchley started **** and fell off the bench… was that the first time he sipped from this goblet?”

“Er… no,” the third year told him, “He was drinking from it all during lunch. That’s why it was so shocking when he keeled over.”

Professor Snape nodded then pointed the goblet down at Bletchley’s partially eaten lunch. “A fact that is supported by the leftovers on Bletchley’s plate. That shows he was poisoned midway through his meal which rules out Gaunt putting the Hellebore in Bletchley’s cup beforehand. And during the meal… Gaunt was halfway across the table surrounded by nine other students.”

“Then how’d the poison get in his cup?” Warrington asked. “Gaunt never came over while we were eating... but nobody else did either.”

A nasty smirk appeared on the Potions professor’s face as he turned to the Transfiguration professor. “My theory… is that the true culprit put the poison in their own pumpkin juice and then used a Switching Spell to swap their poisoned goblet with Bletchley’s. Tell me, Minerva, in what year do you start teaching students the Switching Spell?”

Professor McGonagall looked like she was sucking on a lemon. “Fourth year… and we review it in fifth since it always appears on the Transfiguration O.W.L. Exam.”

“And have you, perhaps, been giving Mr. Gaunt some advanced tutelage that would allow him to perform simultaneous transfiguration from across the room without anyone noticing?”

“No…” the Transfiguration professor admitted, “That feat is beyond Mr. Gaunt’s abilities.”

“Then how, may I ask, could Gaunt have accomplished this if all the evidence shows otherwise?”

“He didn’t…” Professor McGonagall said with a sigh, “Mr. Gaunt… I’m sorry for suspecting you and for accusing you so publicly. That was wrong of me.”

The Deputy Headmistress gave you a short, curt nod then turned and left.

Professor Snape turned back to you and gave you a conclusive nod, “Gaunt, take a further ten points for not being a murderer.”

You gave your defender a very grateful nod in return then blinked as you realised you just earned twenty-eight House Points in one go and all it took was being the subject of very public scrutiny.

“Mark my words!” Professor Snape called out as he held the offending goblet over his head, “When I discover who was responsible for this… I will see to it that I personally escort the perpetrator to Azkaban.” The Potions professor didn’t linger any longer and stomped off toward the Staff Table with the poisoned goblet still in his grasp.

Gemma clapped her hands on your shoulders and gave you a reassuring squeeze then leaned in to whisper in your ear, “How many points does that put you at?”

“Ninety-six,” you answered after taking a second to do the math.

“Nearly a hundred,” she remarked, “Not many first years can manage that.”

“Er… Gaunt,” you looked across the table to see Montague eying you warily… or maybe it was the prefect behind you who had previously stuck him upside-down to the broomshed, “Sorry for suspecting you…”

You nodded, “Just be sure to tell Flint and Bletchley that Professor Snape proved it wasn’t me. I want to play starting Keeper but I’d never try to kill someone to get the position.”

Montague looked over at Warrington and the two third years rushed out of the Great Hall to, no doubt, check on their yearmate in the Hospital Wing.

Gemma patted you on the shoulder, “Let’s get you away from the scene of the crime.” 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. “Here he is. A little ruffled but still in one piece.” Her eyes landed on your roommate, “Malfoy, when you get those sales records from your father, make sure to include all of his purchases and not just the bezoars. Just in case someone else decides to accuse him of something he very clearly didn’t do.”

“I’ll go do that right away,” Draco announced.

“And Draco!” you called after him. He stopped and looked back, “Thanks for standing up for me back there. It meant a lot.” He nodded and left the Great Hall for the Owlery. You turned to face your third defender, “You too, Gemma. Thanks for backing me up when the whole school was turning on me.”

The Perfect Prefect smiled at you and cupped your chin, “Chin up, kid, I’ll make a point to check up on you in the common room when you get back from your afternoon classes.” She gave you another pat on the shoulder and affectionately ruffled your hair, “Bulstrode, Greengrass, keep an eye on him.”

The two named girls didn’t seem overly pleased with how grabby Gemma was around you but you certainly appreciated having her support when the Deputy Headmistress accused you of attempted ****. You did your best to convey with a look that you wouldn’t hear a word against the prefect.

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.

“You know what?” You decided, “Maybe we should go after Draco? After what just happened, I’m not exactly keen on lingering at the scene of the crime. And if any of you are thinking about buying your own bezoars after what just happened, I’d suggest getting the order in as soon as possible because there’s likely going to be a rush for them.”

You stood up, and so did all the other Slytherin first years. Even Crabbe and Goyle abandoned their current meal in favor of obtaining something that would prevent them from suffering future tainted meals. You felt a lot of gazes follow you as you headed for the door. The most pointed ones were coming from all the way across the hall at the Gryffindor table.

Potter, Granger, Weasley, and Longbottom were all scowling at you. Of course, they still suspected you. Seeing their Head of House publicly accuse you of an alleged crime was, no doubt, a dream come true for the gold and scarlet quartet. And then Professor Snape went and dashed their hopes and dreams with one billowing swoop of a bat-like cape. You could only imagine the narrative they were concocting. They already thought you and Professor Snape were conspiring together. For all they knew, Professor Snape was the one who poisoned Bletchley and he was covering for you to both reward and protect his favorite underage accomplice. As far as the four Gryffindors were concerned, Headmaster Dumbledore himself could march into the Great Hall and clear you of any wrongdoings and they’d STILL suspect you.

Millicent placed her hand on your shoulder and sent a pointed, nasty look at the four Gryffindors. “Anyone who still thinks it’s you after Professor Snape publicly cleared you is an idiot.”

“I suppose that’s the benefit of having the scary professor for a Head of House,” you reasoned.

“He did a good job proving how they did it,” Blaise commented, “But it would've been better if he also proved WHO did it.” You exited the Great Hall and looked over your shoulder to see Daphne and Tracey whispering together which told you that was a mystery the two ‘meddling kids’ were keen on solving too. “You gave me a taste of how cutthroat Hogwarts Quidditch is last weekend. But TWO public **** attempts on Quidditch players in one season is awfully ominous.”

“Hopefully, Professor Snape will be at the match on Saturday,” you replied. “After that public display… if I had to pick one Hogwarts staff member… to have my back in a fight… it’d definitely be Professor Snape.”

The added emphasis on ‘staff member’ was for the benefit of Daphne, Tracey, and any of your fellow Slytherin first years who were attempting to solve the **** mystery. Professor Snape gave you some clues after publicly deducing the method of the poisoning. Only fifth year students and above would’ve had access to the Hellebore in the Herbology greenhouse… but so would a professor. And a Switching Spell was advanced transfiguration that wasn’t taught until fourth year… something a professor would also be quite capable of. And Professor Quirrell proved during the Quidditch match that he was capable of long distance spell casting.

Your eyes met a pair of icy blue ones and you were pleased to see that the mystery lover had caught onto your hidden message about your top suspect.

The nine of you walked out into the entrance hall and made your way to the Clocktower Courtyard.

“DRACO! DRACO!” You flinched as Pansy spotted your roommate and shrilly called out to him.

He stopped and you all caught up with him. You decided to broach the subject of bezoars on behalf of the others. “I don’t suppose you could arrange a group discount on bezoars for your fellow Slytherin first years, could you? I have a feeling that after what happened at lunch your family apothecary is going to have an influx of bezoar orders.”

“Father always says that the way a Malfoy saves money is by buying in bulk,” Draco remarked. “Between the family discount and a bulk quantity… I should be able to get a good deal.”

“If that’s the case, then get a couple dozen,” you suggested, “Give some out to your friends and maybe the other players on the Quidditch team… and then sell the rest at the full market price. You’d probably make most, if not all, of your money back…”

“That’s… not a bad idea,” Draco admitted as he turned and continued the trek to the Owlery.

“Did you just convince Draco to buy us all bezoars?” Tracey Davis spoke up.

Everyone stopped in their tracks. The blonde half-blood was very sharp. You really needed to be careful what you said around her. The grateful look that Theodore Nott shot you also showed that he’d come to the same conclusion but, unlike Tracey, he wasn’t the type to blurt it out in front of everyone and actually appreciated the gift of a free bezoar.

“Convince?” you repeated. “Of course not. I simply pointed something out. I’m sure Draco’s smart enough to realise that bezoars are soon to be in high demand and since he has access to a lot of them then that would make this the perfect opportunity to not only curry favor with his fellow Slytherins but also make some extra money on the side. It’s certainly what I’d do if I had his resources. And I’m also sure that when Draco shares his idea with his father, Lucius is likely to praise him for thinking resourcefully like a proper cunning and ambitious Slytherin.”

Draco started walking again, this time with a notable bounce in his stride. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was either smirking or genuinely smiling.

You looked back at Tracey and raised an eyebrow at the blonde girl with the Velma-glasses. Tracey leaned closer to Daphne, “Do you want to revisit my theory that he persuaded an older student to do it?” The short girl made a show of adjusting her charmed glasses, “That’s right, Gaunt, I’ve still got my eye on you.”

But Daphne ended up saving you from her best friend’s extra scrutiny, “No, if he set it up, he wouldn’t have been dumb enough to be caught in the middle of his own plot. And Snape wouldn’t have defended him so adamantly if he suspected that Marvolo actually did it.”

The look in Daphne’s eyes told you that she had some theories of her own and was waiting to share them when there were less witnesses.

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 in 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.

But the incident showed you who your true allies were. Professor Snape spoke up in your defense. Draco spoke up in your defense. Gemma spoke up in your defense. Daphne, Millicent, and Blaise voiced their own support after the fact. As an important player in the cut-throat world of Hogwarts Quidditch... it was cruicial to know who you could actually trust. This has been a valuable lesson in that regard.

Marvolo Gaunt House Point Ledger

Severus Snape: +10

Severus Snape: -2

Severus Snape +10

Severus Snape: +10

New Total: +96

Points awarded by: SS, RH, QQ