The other two adults, however, had none of Harry's dramatic inner monologue. They simply circled around her, searching her face for traces of the Lily they once knew.
"Uh… have you two stared enough?" Harry asked, exasperated.
"Ah, yes, yes, we've seen enough. Anyway, we just came to make sure you were alright. Also—" Sirius said, and then, like performing a magic trick… well, real magic was far more impressive.
He suddenly pulled a large package out from behind his back. "This is a dress robe I bought for you. Try it on later… oh, and don't let Ron and Neville, those two brats, get too close to you."
Sirius ended with a stern reminder.
Judging by Harry's expression, she clearly didn't take it to heart.
That night…
"So you're really leaving?" Ron asked miserably as he watched Harry hugging her bedding.
"Obviously. Dumbledore arranged a private room for me so I can stay there until the potion wears off. And do you two really need to look this heartbroken… I'm only gone for a month, it's not like I'm leaving forever," Harry said, rolling her very pretty eyes.
"No, I just feel… uh… forget it. Give me a hug," Ron said, putting his things down—only for Neville to beat him to it.
"Take care."
After Neville came Ron, who hugged Harry tightly. He immediately noticed that Harry felt much softer and smaller than Harry used to… and she even smelled nice…
"Take care, mate… you smell really good… just being honest," Ron said, face bright red.
"But I didn't use any perfume? Maybe it's the shower gel?"
"Who knows? Maybe it's just my imagination," Ron muttered.
The next day…
The ever-popular Potions class…
…Fourth-year Potions, of course.
Draco, leaning against the podium, stared in confusion at the unfamiliar girl sitting beside Hermione. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember ever seeing her before.
But this girl—how to put it—she was just inexplicably pretty.
"Draco, what are you staring at?" Crabbe whispered.
"The girl next to the know-it-all. Has Gryffindor ever had her before?" Draco whispered back.
"The know-it-all? Who's that?"
"Hermione Granger!" Draco snapped.
"Oh… don't know her. Don't know either of them," Crabbe said, shaking his head.
"Forget it, this has nothing to do with you. Go play somewhere," Draco muttered. He checked the time, forced his curiosity down, and returned to his seat.
Soon, Snape walked in with his usual stone face. He glanced at Harry sitting beside Hermione and gave a slight nod before beginning the lesson.
Before long, the first question of the class came out of his mouth.
"Potte—… ehm.. Harley, answer this."
Harley stood up stiffly. Hermione whispered something quietly beside her, and Harley replied in a soft voice, "Dittany."
"Correct. Gryffindor, five points for Harley's answer. Sit down," Snape said, pretending not to notice Hermione's little prompt and acting completely casual.
"?...."
"?...."
"?...."
The young witches and wizards of both Gryffindor and Slytherin stared at Snape in utter bewilderment—discreetly, of course.
Today's Snape felt far too unfamiliar.
But Snape ignored all the odd looks and simply continued pushing the lesson forward. Soon, it was time for practical work.
He drifted through the classroom like a ghost, his footsteps making no sound at all.
Slowly… slowly…
Snape arrived behind Harley, then suddenly picked up the half-finished potion on her desk and sniffed it. "Hmm.. A very good prototype of a Thinker's Draft. It's not complete yet, but it's still worth ten points for Gryffindor."
After he said this, every young witch and wizard in the room became even more convinced that Snape had been Polyjuiced by someone else.
Of course, some students with both courage and alarming initiative were already beginning to act.
For instance—right at this moment…
Snape looked at the potion in Draco's cauldron, its color and consistency only a few shades off from the Thinker's Draft Harley was brewing. Snape frowned, then used a fan-wave sniffing technique…
"I need an explanation, Mr. Malfoy. Why are you brewing the antidote for Polyjuice Potion?" Snape said coldly.
"Professor…" Draco looked up at Snape. The latter frowned further, but still managed to understand exactly what his student meant.
After all, as the Head of Slytherin House—with the reputation he'd built over the years—his behavior today was undeniably OOC.
By now, in just a single class, he had already awarded Gryffindor fifteen points… Hmm…
But what was the problem with that?
Snape simply picked up a small cup, scooped up half a cup of the Polyjuice antidote, and drank it in one go.
Draco's eyes nearly burst out of their sockets. "I knew it! Just wait—I'll go get Professor Grindelwald! Professor, don't worry, he'll definitely break the Imperius Curse on you!"
Then Snape immediately shoved him back into his seat and smacked him twice on the back of the head.
Harley, on the other hand, felt absolutely nothing… Well, not exactly nothing. For example, her potion-brewing performance had skyrocketed. Without a certain bat looming behind her spraying venom every second, not only had her technique improved—her mental state had, too.
Just like that, all the way until the end of class, Harley ended up earning nearly forty points for Gryffindor.
Not only was Gryffindor stunned—Slytherin was stunned.
Including Draco.
Although he had no idea where this suddenly-appearing witch named "Harley" had come from… maybe she was Snape's goddaughter…
Huh? Why didn't Scarhead come to class today?
Eh, who cares? Is he as nice-smelling as Harley? Obviously not.
But why had he never seen her before? Was she studying abroad before this? Or maybe she'd been receiving some sort of traditional apprenticeship training? But even then, she should've gone through the Sorting Ceremony, right?
Did he oversleep and miss something? Did he lose his memory?
Before he could finish thinking, he saw Harley at the classroom door, hugging her books and about to leave.
Then Draco Malfoy acted immediately.
"Miss Harley, may I have the honor of being your partner for the Christmas Ball?"
He sounded a bit like he still wasn't fully awake.
_________
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