However, that was before remembering another reason why he had wanted to sit with the Ravenclaws this lunchtime "By the way Padma, I've come up with a little plan for us this evening."
"Oh yeah," said Lisa with a grin "I forgot that Hogwarts' hottest new couple were having their first date toni- Ouch!"
Harry had the distinct impression that Lisa too had just gotten a good kicking under the table, once again courtesy of Padma.
The Ravenclaw Prefect glared at her wincing dorm mate before turning her attention back to Harry and asking with a pleasant smile "So what have you got planned for me?"
"That is a surprise," replied Harry mysteriously "Though fair warning, don't eat too much at dinner."
"Gotcha," replied Padma, before…
"Potter!"
Harry winced a little at the sound of Professor McGonagall's voice calling out loudly to him from across the Great Hall.
"Damn," he growled before getting to his feet and making his way over to the Deputy Headmistress.
"You know," said Padma "I've suddenly got a sinking feeling that my date tonight is going to be cancelled due to that greasy git."
Lisa patted her on the back sympathetically.
Harry followed along behind Professor McGonagall as the Transfiguration teacher led him up towards the Headmaster's office. He, like Padma, had a sinking feeling that their date tonight was going to be cancelled for them by outside forces, namely a greasy, bat-like git with a hooked nose and a twinkly-eyed, interfering old codger with a long white beard.
He wasn't paying too much attention to his surroundings, and so had nearly passed by the doors to the Hospital Wing before remembering that he needed to go in there.
"I've just got to pop in here for a minute," Harry announced to Professor McGonagall, who had not noticed that he had stopped walking.
She wheeled around and demanded "The Hospital Wing? Whatever for?"
"It'll just take a minute," Harry reiterated "I just need to see Madam Pomfrey about something."
"Surely whatever it is can wait until after the Headmaster-"
Harry ignored her and pushed open the doors of the Hospital Wing.
All of the beds were empty, and he found Madam Pomfrey sitting at her desk going over some paperwork, a steaming bowl of oxtail soup and a half eaten bread roll sitting off to one side.
Harry knocked on the door to her office and she turned around to face him.
"Ah, Mr Potter. I was wondering how long it would be before you paid me your first visit of the year."
Harry smiled at that. He did normally spend quite a bit of the school year in Madam Pomfrey's care.
"Unfortunately I am not here to seek medical attention just yet," he replied "I just need your opinion on something."
"Yes?" she asked, sounding suspicious.
Harry swung his bag off his shoulder and began fishing out his potions kit "It's about a potion, Madam Pomfrey. You know a bit about them, I trust?"
"Medical ones mostly," the matron replied.
"This is a soothing solution," said Harry.
She nodded and beckoned for him to place the two phials on her desk.
McGonagall tried to interrupt "Mr Potter, we really must get up to the Headmaster's office. This can wait until later."
"If the reason for my being dragged to the Headmaster's office is the one I am thinking of, then this needs to be done now." replied Harry without turning to look at her "Madam Pomfrey, in your professional opinion, is this soothing solution any good?"
Madam Pomfrey picked up one of the phials and held it up to examine it.
"Colour's a little off, but nothing too major."
She un-stoppered the phial and held it up to her nose to give it a sniff.
"The smell appears to be fine."
She reached for one of the drawers in her desk and pulled it out. From within she took what appeared to be the wizarding equivalent of a petri-dish, which she set onto her desk before pouring a few small drops of Harry's potion into it.
She picked up the petri-dish and swirled it around a bit before stopping to study the contents within.
"The viscosity is a little too runny, but all in all it appears to be fine."
"Really?" asked Harry.
"Yes. It's not a perfect example of the potion in question, but it is more than passable. If fed to a patient it will do the job required of it."
"Great," said Harry before asking "Listen, could you do me a favour and write that down for me?"
"I can, but why not ask Professor Snape?" asked the matron.
"It was Professor Snape who refused to give me a mark for it," replied Harry "Other than a resounding zero, of course."
Madam Pomfrey appeared to be surprised at what she had just heard. For a moment Harry wondered if she doubted his comments about Snape, but his worried were quickly proven unfounded when she asked "You brewed this?"
"Yeah, why?" asked Harry in puzzlement.
She stoppered the phial she had opened and handed it to him before replying "I oversee a small club on a Thursday evening for all of those who wish to practice brewing potions for healing purposes. It's normally for those with a real affinity for potions, but with a few lessons you should fit right in."
"Thank you," replied Harry "Hannah Abbott mentioned that club this morning at breakfast. I'll look into coming along."
"See that you do," said Madam Pomfrey "It's nice to see that some of your mother's talents were passed on to you. Until now I thought you had only inherited your father's flying skills and penchant for getting into mischief."
"Thank you," said Harry once again, feeling something bubbling up inside of him.
His mum had been good in the art of brewing potions. Sarah had mentioned that before now, but somehow hearing it from a medical professional like Madam Pomfrey allowed it to be fully confirmed in his mind. He didn't doubt Sarah, but there was always the chance that she was exaggerating a little about her old friends. But now it was confirmed.
And he, Harry, appeared to have inherited that talent.
Madam Pomfrey handed him a piece of parchment, on which she had written down her professional assessment of this potion and, after thanking her for her time, Harry followed Professor McGonagall out of the Hospital Wing.
As they made their way towards Dumbledore's office, Harry felt as though he was in some kind of bubble of joy.
His mum had been good at potions, and he had inherited that from her!
Of course, this realisation quickly led to the question of why had this talent not manifested itself in any way, shape or form before now?
He recalled his first trip to Diagon Alley. He remembered being particularly fascinated by the apothecary where the majority of the potions ingredients required for school were supplied, and when he had returned to his relatives' home in Privet Drive he had spent a good deal of his time learning what the basic tools for potion brewing were and how they were used.
He had so looked forwards to making bubbling and boiling concoctions of many kinds, to brewing up antidotes and preparing solutions that were designed to make people feel better.
What had happened to that feeling? What had happened to make him not only dislike potions, but also suppress his capabilities in the subject?
As he and Professor McGonagall entered Dumbledore's office, the answer to those questions appeared, looming over him like a greasy, over-grown bat with a superior sneer on his face.
The bubble of joy popped, and Harry steeled himself to once again face down the Headmaster, his lapdog and his pet potions master.
'Another meeting with the Headmaster,' he thought, somewhat bitterly 'Well, this really must now be some kind of record. The first day of classes isn't even over yet…'
.....
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