They shook their heads.

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. Malfoy, on the other hand, did not crack a smile.

“What do you mean, ‘something amusing'?” he said irritably.

“Oh, surprise me,” said Slughorn airily.

Malfoy 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. Undoubtedly,

Harry thought, watching him over the top of his own book, Malfoy was begrudging the time he could otherwise be spending in the Room of Requirement.

Was it his imagination, or did Malfoy, 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 smugness, excitement, or superiority; none of the swagger that he had had on the Hogwarts Express, when he had boasted

openly of the mission he had been given by Voldemort... there could be only one conclusion, in Harry's opinion: the mission, whatever it was, was going badly.

Cheered by this thought, Harry skimmed through his copy of Advanced Potion-Making and found a heavily corrected Half-Blood Prince's version of An Elixir to Induce

Euphoria, which seemed not only to meet Slughorn's instructions, but which might (Harry's heart leapt as the thought struck him) put Slughorn into such a good mood that

he would be prepared to hand over that memory if Harry could persuade him to taste some...

“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 —”

Harry pushed the Half-Blood Prince's book deeper into his bag with his foot.

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

“Oh... yeah, maybe,” said Harry, relieved.

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. Malfoy was already packing up, sour-faced; Slughorn had pronounced his Hiccuping Solution merely “passable.”

The bell rang and both Ernie and Malfoy left at once. “Sir,” Harry began, but Slughorn immediately glanced over his shoulder; when he saw that the room was empty but

for himself and Harry, he hurried away as fast as he could.

“Professor—Professor, don't you want to taste my po—?” called Harry desperately.

But Slughorn had gone. Disappointed, Harry emptied the cauldron, packed up his things, left the dungeon, and walked slowly back upstairs to the common room.

Ron and Hermione returned in the late afternoon.

“Harry!” cried Hermione as she climbed through the portrait hole. “Harry, I passed!”

“Well done!” he said. “And Ron?”

“He—he just failed,” whispered Hermione, as Ron came slouching into the room looking most morose. “It was really unlucky, a tiny thing, the examiner just spotted

that he'd left half an eyebrow behind... how did it go with Slughorn?”

“No joy,” said Harry, as Ron joined them. “Bad luck, mate, but you'll pass next time—we can take it together.”

“Yeah, I s'pose,” said Ron grumpily. “But half an eyebrow! Like that matters!”

“I know,” said Hermione soothingly, “it does seem really harsh...”

They spent most of their dinner roundly abusing the Apparition examiner, and Ron looked fractionally more cheerful by the time they set off back to the common room, now

discussing the continuing problem of Slughorn and the memory.

“So, Harry—you going to use the Felix Felicis or what?” Ron demanded.

“Yeah, I s'pose I'd better,” said Harry. “I don't reckon I'll need all of it, not twenty-four hours’ worth, it can't take all night... I'll just take a mouthful.