XII. The New Potions Master

Dudley was accosted by Professor McGonagall on the way to breakfast the following morning.

"Mr. Dursley," the stern witch said, staring at him with disapproval, "I'd like a word."

"Er...okay..." Dudley tensed, a million dire fates flooding through his mind.

"I simply wish to remind you to be on your best behaviour during your stay at Hogwarts," McGonagall said. "I'm well aware of the sort of Muggle you are—have been since you were but a year old. I was watching you and your family the day we brought Harry to live with you." The look on her face told Dudley she hadn't liked what she'd seen. "I was against this exchange idea, and even moreso when I was informed you'd be hosted by Gryffindor. I happen to be the head of Gryffindor House, Mr. Dursley, and I'd thank you to remember that your behaviour affects the status of Gryffindor in the House Cup, just as with the regular students. Incidents such as the one aboard the train yesterday will not be tolerated. Am I making myself clear?"

Dudley blanched. "Y-yes ma'am."

After a brief moment, Professor McGonagall's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. "Though I must admit that in that case, it was likely not your fault. The majority of your cousin's disciplinary problems here at Hogwarts tend to involve Draco Malfoy." Something unpleasant flashed in the stern witch's eyes but for a moment. "Still, it will not do to go around hitting people for whatever offence they might give. Especially since here at Hogwarts, you are quite defenceless against the sort of thing your schoolmates would likely do in retaliation."

Dudley gulped. "I—I know. Potter said the same thing on the train."

McGonagall nodded. "You would do well to listen to Mr. Potter. His record isn't exactly spotless, but he happens to be your house Prefect, and I daresay he's the one wizard in this school who'll bother to look after you. Even though he has the least cause to do so."

Dudley nodded mutely.

"Well then, off to breakfast with you. Best not to be late to your first class because you were still eating."

"Yes ma'am!" Dudley rushed off as fast as his chubby legs could carry him.

Sakura and her new dormmates sat with the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione at breakfast. "Where's Dudley?" Hermione wondered as everyone assembled.

"I reckon it's taking him a bit to get dressed," Ron said. "The git isn't taking well to wearing robes."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It figures."

Sakura heaped a stack of hot cakes onto her plate. "They're not so unusual," she said. She paused thoughtfully. "Of course, maybe that's just me. Some of the costumes I've been talked into wearing this past year—" She blushed and busied herself with pouring syrup on her hot cakes.

The others glanced at her with raised eyebrows. "Is this another one of those funny Japanese things?" Ginny asked.

Sakura turned several shades redder. "Not really...sort of. Mostly it's my friend Tomoyo-chan's doing." At the expectant looks of the others, she clarified, "Cartoons and comics in Japan have funny ideas about magical girls. Lots of pastel colours and frilly costumes and saying very silly phrases. Tomoyo-chan is rich, bored, and likes making clothes, so..."

"She made a new costume for Sakura-chan every time we found a Clow Card that needed capturing," Keroberos put in from around a mouthful of glazed doughnut.

"That's...nice of her," Harry ventured.

"I felt a little ridiculous in some of those outfits," Sakura said, giggling nervously. "I think I like these robes better, even though Tomoyo-chan says they're really too plain."

At around that point, Dudley waddled into view, looking much like a pup tent with a blonde head. He plopped himself down amidst the Gryffindors and, without so much as a word of greeting, began loading bacon, eggs, and hash browns onto his plate.

"Good morning, all, good morning!" a cheerful voice erupted from the middle of the table.

Keroberos perked up. "Is that Sir Nick?"

A pale, silvery, dimly glowing form emerged from the middle of a plate of toast. Clad in outdated nobleman's attire, the ghost, for that was indeed what this being was, beamed around at the students, sweeping his hat from his head gallantly. "Welcome back, my young friends, welcome back! I do apologise for my rudeness in not attending the feast last night."

Nobody noticed that, three seats down from where the ghost had appeared, Sakura had suddenly stopped eating. Her eyes were wide and all the colour was draining rapidly from her face.

Dudley, for his part, had paused with a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth, and was staring stupidly, jaw agape, at the new arrival.

"No worries," Ron said around a bacon sandwich. "So where were you, anyway? Didn't see any of the other ghosts around either."

Nick bowed his head sadly; it threatened to fall off, being attached to his neck by less than an inch of ghostly flesh. "Alas, we had grave matters to attend to." He sniffled loudly. "One of our number is...no more."

The others blinked. "How's that again?" Harry asked.

"Myrtle. That poor, dear child...she has departed."

"Well of course she's departed," Ron said. "She's a ghost, isn't she?"

"Gh-ghost..." Sakura murmured, so quietly only Keroberos could hear her. Dudley continued to stare.

Nick cast a cross glance at Ron. "Really, dear boy, how insensitive." He sighed. "But, I suppose it can be forgiven, you being alive and all."

"So what's this about Myrtle?" Harry asked.

"The poor dear..." Nick removed his hat and held it over his heart. "She took her own afterlife three evenings ago."

Everyone blinked. "She...killed herself?" Harry asked.

"The final death," Sir Nicholas said mournfully. "We suspect Peeves drove her to it, the louse..."

"A ghost can die?" Ron asked.

"When one is but a spirit, if one wishes hard enough to cease to exist..." Sir Nick shrugged, his head wobbling on his shoulders. "Dust to dust, as they say."

"How horrible," Hermione said. "I mean, I wouldn't say I cared much for her, but..."

Everyone was silent for a moment. Then, Dudley stammered out, "A-are you really a gh-ghost?!"

Sir Nick turned then to the large blonde boy, and grinned. "Ah! You must be the Muggle I've been hearing so much about! Good to meet you, dear boy! Sir Nicholas de Mimsey-Porpington, at your service."

Dudley blinked, then swallowed nervously. "Err..."

"Hey Sir Nick! Remember me?" Keroberos said, popping up in front of the ghost.

Nicholas blinked. "Keroberos? Clow Reed's little pet?"

Keroberos grinned. "In the flesh!"

The ghost chuckled. "Why, dear beast, it's been ages! Haven't seen you since that book was sealed away..."

At this point, Ginny noticed that Sakura had become still and pale as a marble statue, and was staring with wide eyes at Sir Nicholas. "All right, Sakura?" she asked.

"Hey, Kero, something's wrong with Sakura," Ron called, having noticed as well.

"Eh?" The small winged creatured hovered in front of his charge, waving his paws. "Sakura-chan? Sakura-chan...!" He blinked...then his eyes widened. "Of course!"

"What is it?"

"It's Sir Nick," Keroberos replied. "Sakura-chan is VERY frightened of ghosts."

Nicholas' eyes widened. "My word! I say...well, I suppose I should make myself scarce until the poor dear has time to adjust..." With a jaunty wave, he passed back through the table, and was gone.

"Hoooeeeeeeee..." Sakura uttered, trembling slightly.

"Hey now, it's alright, Sakura," Ginny said soothingly. "Sir Nick is a good ghost. Very friendly. He's the Gryffindor ghost, you know."

"H..hoee?"

"Each of the Houses has a resident ghost," Keroberos told Sakura. "Sir Nick's ours. He's been here a long time, so he knows a lot, and he's really quite a fun guy."

"Except on his death-day," Ron muttered.

"There's...there's more ghosts here?" Sakura asked, looking as though she was stuck in the path of an oncoming train.

"Don't worry about it, Sakura-chan," Keroberos said soothingly. "They won't hurt you. They're all nice ghosts."

Perhaps rather wisely, none of the Gryffindors elected to mention the Slytherin ghost, the Bloody Baron. Nor did they mention Peeves; being a poltergeist, he didn't count at any rate.

At that moment, Professor McGonagall began passing around the course timetables. Harry looked his over, and grimaced. "Great. Double Potions first thing in the morning."

"Hey, at least Snape's not going to be around for a while," Ron pointed out. "Oi, Dursley, what've you got first?"

Dudley glanced at his schedule. "Double Potions with the Slytherins," he said. Glancing up, he asked, "Same as you lot?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "You're REALLY lucky Snape's not around today."

"Who's Snape?" Dudley asked.

"The Potions master," Harry replied. "Head of Slytherin house. Hates my guts because he got on badly with my dad when they were here together. Actually, he hates everybody except the Slytherins, come to that."

Ron and Hermione nodded. "Oh, I do hope we get a decent substitute," Hermione said.

Ginny scowled at her timetable. "Binns first thing in the morning?"

"Well, at least you'll get some extra sleep, Gin," Ron remarked. Professor Binns, the History of Magic teacher, was known for his dry, boring delivery of otherwise interesting subject matter—his style of teaching had not deviated in the many years since he had passed away.

"What sort of subject is 'bins'?" Dudley asked.

"He's a teacher, not a subject," Hermione said. "He's the History of Magic professor."

Keroberos blinked. "Binns? That's funny. A long time ago I remember History of Magic being taught by a wizard named Binns." He paused thoughtfully. "Cuthbert Binns, I think his name was. Clow always called him 'Rubbish Binns'..." He shook his head. "Must be a descendant, ne?"

"Errr..."

Hermione cleared her throat. "This is the exact same Cuthbert Binns, I believe."

Keroberos blinked. "Eh? That's not possible, though. I mean, that was a couple hundred years ago."

"Well, Professor Binns is..." Ginny glanced at Sakura suddenly, then made a vague gesture with her hand. "Oh, you know."

The guardian beast blinked again. His eyes then widened in understanding. "You don't mean he's...?"

Ron nodded. "Died right in front of the staff room hearth, he did. Got right up and went on to his next class after."

"RON!" Hermione hissed.

Too late; Sakura's eyes widened and she let out a frightened squeak. "HOOOEEE?! One of the—my teacher—one of my teachers is a—-a—-?"

"Ghost," Ginny said, wincing.

Sakura fainted.

* * * * *

A short while after breakfast, Harry, Ron, and Dudley were dashing down the steps to the dungeons, panting madly. Harry and Ron were in particularly foul moods.

"We're going to be late," Harry grumbled. "Even without Snape, I imagine this'll be bad."

"Blaming it on me, Potter?" Dudley asked hotly.

"Well, you are the one who spilled half your Potions kit on the ground because you missed the trick step."

"And how's I to know there was a trick step?"

"Because we warned you all the way down the bloody stairs, you lump," Ron groused.

The three boys arrived to find the rest of the Gryffindor fifth-years, as well as their Slytherin counterparts, assembled in the dungeon classroom where Potions was taught. There was, as yet, no sign of a teacher.

Malfoy spotted Dudley and grinned maliciously. "Well, if it isn't the Muggle 'exchange student'." Several of the Slytherins snickered. "I reckon Gryffindor won't be winning the House Cup this year, not with that blob of dung on your side."

Dudley bristled, but Harry coolly responded, "Snape's not hovering around to play favourites today, Malfoy."

"Lucky for you, then, isn't it Potter?"

Before more could be said, the sound of laboured breathing and madly rustling robes came from the hall. "Sorry, sorry I'm late everyone!" a male voice panted. A blue blur rushed from the door, hurrying up to the desk at the front of the classroom. The wizard stood there puffing and panting for a moment, and as he did so, the class sized him up. He was of average height, slender, wearing robes the colour of a clear afternoon sky; no hat adorned his dark-haired head. Silver-rimmed spectacles magnified dark, slightly almond-shaped eyes, which peered out from an unlined, youthful face.

Harry blinked. "HE'S our new Potions teacher?" he whispered to Ron. For his part, the red-haired boy glanced back at him, nonplussed.

The wizard smiled warmly at the class. "Good morning. My name is Peter Chang, and I'll be your Potions instructor this term. Shall we begin, then?"

* * * * *

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Dudley shared a pair of tables; the fifth-years were occasionally pointing something out to Dudley, admonishing him not to handle an ingredient a certain way, or pointing out to him the distinction between different ingredients.

Dudley had nearly freaked and ran for the hills when Professor Chang had said, at the beginning of class, that they were going to be making a fertility potion, and he'd be distributing vials of rabbit semen. At the disgusted looks from most of the class, he'd laughed. "I'm only joking. Actually, we're going to work on learning a few healing draughts this term. I think we'll start with something easy; I'm not sure if Professor Snape ever covered the Pepper-Up Potion with this class. If he did, then just think on this as a refresher. In any event, it'll be on your O.W.L.s at the end of the year, so it's a good thing to brush up on."

The class worked quietly, but perhaps not as quietly as when Snape was in charge; Professor Chang was certainly a much friendlier and easygoing wizard, and didn't radiate the aura of venomous malice that most Gryffindors associated with the greasy-haired Potions master.

As they worked, Ron whispered, "Harry, is he Cho's dad?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. No wonder he had to rush off at the station yesterday."

Ron snorted. "I don't envy you, mate. Having your girlfriend's dad for a teacher..."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Dudley blinked. "You've a girlfriend, Potter?"

The other three stared at him. "Well, yeah," Harry replied. "You sort of met her already, remember?"

Dudley stared blankly.

"Chinese girl? About this tall? Dark hair, very pretty?"

"Oh, her." Dudley looked confused for a moment, then shrugged and returned to grinding salamander bones. "How'd a scrawny little freak like you manage that, then?"

"Just lucky, I guess," Harry replied, not rising to the taunt.

"How's it coming, kids?" Professor Chang asked as he glided up to them, looking at their cauldrons. He nodded approvingly. "Perfect, Hermione. Yours is looking good too, Harry. Ron, you might have put a pinch too much foxtail—add a bit of snapdragon oil. That should sort it out." He glanced at Dudley's potion, and raised an eyebrow. "You were supposed to add the fire crab blood before it began boiling, Dudley."

Dudley looked at the untouched vial of blood, and the bubbling solution in his cauldron. "Oops."

"No harm." Professor Chang pulled a vial out of his pocket and poured it into the cauldron; the bubbling orange solution turned a cool, muted blue. "Let it sit for five minutes like that, then bring up the heat again and add the blood and those salamander bones. It'll lose some potency, but it'll still turn out alright." He smiled. "Not bad for a first effort." He walked off to check on the Slytherins, and Dudley stared after him, blinking.

"Well, maybe we'll make a wizard out of you yet, Dursley. Or at least, as close as you can get to one," Ron joked.

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