The Deceiver's Distillation
by Jardyn39
Chapter 3 - Hermione's Idea
At around midday, Harry left the Room of Requirement and returned downstairs. Once again, he hadn't found anything particularly useful. Indeed he found himself visiting, for perhaps the fifth time, one of the more puzzling memories left by Dumbledore.
The first time he had come across this particular memory, Harry had waited expectantly for something to happen. Only it didn't. The memory consisted entirely of Dumbledore sitting reading at his desk.
Harry persevered, though. Dumbledore wouldn't have bothered to save this particular memory for no reason at all, eccentric as he was sometimes.
He had to admit, though, that even being in the same room with Dumbledore in quiet contemplation was something of a comfort to Harry.
Harry set about trying to work out what the memory was about. The first and most obvious thing he did was read what Dumbledore was reading. There were only two things on his desk. One was a cutting from the Daily prophet and the other appeared to be a report from the Ministry. Both concerned the same thing, the sudden and unexpected disappearance of Ollivander from Diagon Alley the previous summer.
Harry read the report and realised that this contained little more information than the newspaper article had. It did though confirm that there had been no struggle in the shop and no sign of a break in.
He didn't really know if Ollivander was a friend of Dumbledore. They certainly corresponded, but were they friends?
It only occurred to Harry on perhaps his third complete viewing of the memory, that Dumbledore's face was rather stern as he read. Was this a sign of concern over a missing friend, or were long held suspicions being confirmed.
Harry had never heard anyone say anything bad about Ollivander, and his wands were widely considered the best that money could buy.
Still, Harry was reminded of the time Ollivander had told him about his wand. He wasn't sure if he liked Ollivander then, and he still wasn't sure. He still wondered where the Death Eater wands came from, particularly belonging to those that broke out of Azkaban.
Harry reached the foot of the stairs and headed towards the Great Hall, but was intercepted by Professor McGonagall.
Seeing her accusatory expression, Harry held his hands up and said, "I know. I know."
"I don't approve," she said unnecessarily.
"We have to be sure. I have to be sure."
"You are taking quite a risk, in my opinion. You risk alienating your friends."
Harry sighed and nodded. It was true.
"Look, I'll explain it to them as best I can. I'm sure Hermione will see reason, even if Ron won't. If nothing else it should bring it home to them how serious this undertaking is. If they want to pull out, I'd rather know now. Who told you, by the way? I suppose it was Slughorn?"
"No, I surmised what you were planning from the preparations in the Great Hall."
Harry nodded, looking towards the doors.
"I'm surprised you didn't require me to undertake something similar," she added.
Harry grinned at her and said, "I wouldn't dare!"
She smiled and said, "I'll be in my office. I shall see you later. No doubt you'll need assistance."
"No doubt," he agreed, watching as she ascended the staircase.
Walking into the Great Hall, the first thing he saw were three long tables arranged in the middle to form an equilateral triangle. The four House tables were stacked to the sides, leaving a large open space in the centre.
On each of the three centre tables were place settings for lunch. One table per person.
Near to the entrance doors were a line of large cauldrons which Harry noted were completely empty.
Over at the Staff table, Professor Slughorn was fussing over three more cauldrons. These ones were over lit fires and were steaming gently.
Harry walked over.
"We're ready," said Slughorn. "Remember, these potions won't be effective after about two hours. After that and I'll have to start again and make up some fresh batches."
"Two hours will be fine. Thank you, Professor."
"Do you want me to go?"
"No, you'd better stay in case there are any side effects. It also won't hurt having a fully trained wizard on hand if anything happens."
Slughorn looked almost longingly at the side door for a moment before shrugging and nodding before returning to his potions.
Harry looked at his watch.
It was time.
In the distance, Harry could hear indistinct shouting. It gradually got louder until the Hall was filled with shouts of, "Move! Move! Move!"
Three figures entered the Great Hall at a run. Ron collapsed heavily to his knees but this time his two escorts didn't pick him up immediately.
Hagland and Smith separated quickly. Hagland collected their firearms from a nearby table while Smith picked up a large beaker from another table.
They hurried back to Ron.
"Here, drink this. It will make you feel better," said Hagland. "You're just dehydrated. Drink deeply."
Ron drank from the beaker. In two gulps it was empty.
Ron's breathing slowed visibly. He lowered the beaker with an oddly pensive look on his face. The he frowned.
Hagland nodded to Smith who was standing behind Ron's back. Smith raised his rifle, aiming at the back on Ron's head.
Harry hurried over.
"Ron?"
"I feel weird, Harry."
"That's to be expected, Ron. You're not used to this. Um, if you feel a little unwell, you can always-"
At the first mention of the word unwell, Ron's face almost turned green. He grabbed his stomach. With quick reflexes, Hagland grabbed Ron from behind and pulled him over to one of the empty cauldrons. All the while, Smith did not lower his gun but followed them both closely.
Ron was violently sick.
Harry felt nauseous just listening to Ron wretch, but Hagland and Smith looked totally impassive. Now both of them were aiming their rifles at Ron.
Ron eventually resurfaced.
"That's better," he said weakly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Why are you pointing those things at me?"
"Ron, take a seat at the table," said Harry, feeling rather relieved that Ron apparently didn't realise what the guns were for.
Ron staggered over and collapsed at the table. Hagland and Smith followed and took up positions just behind him. Unseen by all three, the cauldron that Ron had just vomited into silently flew up to where Slughorn was waiting.
There was more shouting coming from the entrance hall.
Harry turned with mounting trepidation towards the great doors.
Hermione walked in, clutching a stitch in her side and panting with exhaustion. Her two escorts had clearly given up shouting at her and separated. While Carlyle collected their weapons, Hope took Hermione's arm and led her over towards the empty cauldrons.
"No, no. I'm fine," said Hermione, looking very flushed and waving Hope away. Hope would have none of it, though, and nodded for Carlyle to bring her beaker over.
Ron had turned and said, "Don't drink that stuff, Hermione! You'll be sick!"
Ron began to rise but was forcibly pushed down again by Smith using the muzzle of his automatic rifle.
Hermione looked over at Ron and immediately reached for her wand. She looked down in shock when she realised she wasn't carrying it any longer.
"It's okay, Hermione," said Harry as calmly as he could. "The beaker does not contain anything harmful, I promise you. You will be sick though. It will be too much after all that physical exertion."
"My wand," she began to say.
"Your wand is perfectly safe," he said with a smile.
Hermione frowned and brushed her hair back with shaking hands. She still looked very red and was perspiring heavily.
"My dear," said Slughorn loudly from the other end of the Hall. "If you delay much longer you'll need to do another lap or two."
She looked back at Harry.
"Please, Hermione. I'm sorry, but this really is necessary."
Hermione took the beaker and Hope said gently, "Drink deeply. The chilled water needs to be a shock to your stomach."
As Hermione drank, Carlyle shouldered his rifle and both he and Hope guided her closer to the cauldrons.
Hermione dropped the beaker to the floor and covered her mouth.
"No, don't fight it," said Carlyle.
Hope pushed Hermione's head down and that did it. Hermione was violently sick, just as Ron had been.
Harry was about to step forward and hand her one of the towels, but Carlyle stopped him with a stern look. Harry stopped and nodded, remembering that the three of them mustn't come into physical contact until the tests were completed.
There were more noises coming from the Entrance hall.
"Hagrid! Put him down!" shouted Professor McGonagall.
Hagrid appeared in the doorway looking furious. He was carrying Bateman, who was by no means was a small man, by the scruff of his neck.
As Bateman continued to struggle, his arms and legs flailing around uselessly, Hagrid's eyes fell upon Hermione as Hope helped to clean her up and walk her to her place at the table.
For one terrible moment, Harry thought Hagrid was about to throw Bateman across the hall.
Harry ran over and was about to shout for Hagrid to put him down when Professor McGonagall appeared holding her wand.
"Hagrid, please put that man down," she said firmly. There was a finality about her voice that told Harry that it would be Hagrid's last warning.
Hagrid threw Bateman heavily to the ground but he quickly regained his balance and furiously made to attack.
Harry rushed forward and placed himself between them.
"Please, Bear," shouted Harry. "Hagrid, blame me. I asked them to do it."
"I'm alright, Hagrid," said Hermione from the table. Her voice sounded shaky, but it had the desired effect. Hagrid and Bateman appeared to forget their differences for a moment while they both turned to her.
Harry was concerned to see that Hermione looked very white and appeared to need her elbows to prop herself up at the table.
"Sergeant Bateman, Hagrid, please come with me up to my office," said Professor McGonagall sternly. "I wish to have words with you both."
She swept out of the hall. Bateman pulled down his jacket and followed, as did Hagrid.
Harry walked over to the table and sat at the third place setting.
"I'm sorry," said Harry.
Ron turned suddenly to Smith and shouted angrily, "Hey, stop poking me with that tube thing!"
"Smith," said Harry, "take a step back. You can cover him just as well from a few feet away."
Hagland nodded to Smith and they both took one step back.
"What are those things for, anyway?"
Before Harry could stop him, Smith stepped forward again and quickly fired four shots into the three inch thick table top inches away from Ron's arm. The armour piercing rounds cut through the timber leaving a closely grouped number of large, smoking splinters before burying themselves into the stone floor.
With the muzzle still smoking, Smith stepped back again, this time wearing a very satisfied expression on his face.
"They are called guns, Ron," said Harry, "and these people are experts in using them. In fact, they are experts in all kinds of things."
Ron was still staring at the smoking holes in his table when Hermione said, "Harry, what on earth is going on and when are you going to introduce your new friends properly?"
She was clutching her sides and spoke in short breaths.
"Professor?" asked Harry.
Slughorn walked over and a large trolley with various bubbling and steaming potions followed him until they were both standing next to Harry.
"This," said Slughorn importantly, holding up an almost empty flask of purple coloured liquid, "is a potion known as the Deceiver's Distillation."
He swilled the liquid lovingly with a smile on his face.
"Oh, I see," said Hermione. "Well, at least that explains why we had to travel separately."
"Yes, I'm sorry about that," said Harry. "It was important to keep everyone taking the full test physically apart."
"Why?" asked Ron.
"DNA, probably. Anyone in close proximity to someone is bound to pick up stray bits of hair and skin."
"Don't you dare tell me what you're talking about," said Ron seriously. "Not just before lunch anyway. It sounds absolutely disgusting!"
"But," said Hermione, ignoring Ron, "isn't that potion impossible to make these days? I'm sure I read that one of the active ingredients comes from a magical creature that is believed to be extinct."
"Oh, excellent!" cried Slughorn with obvious delight. "You are entirely right, Miss Granger. Remind me to award you some House Points for next year."
Ron rolled his eyes and Harry smiled.
"Yes, indeed," continued the Professor. "Actually three essential ingredients out of the thirty needed are no longer readily available.
"We managed to obtain some dried petals of the Umpo plant. That plant is actually only found in tropical rainforests and only flowers every seven hundred and twelve years. We couldn't really afford to wait for a fresh batch.
"I already had a stock of Himalayan bee honey."
"Why is that rare?" asked Ron.
This time Hermione rolled her eyes, and said, "It has to be made at an altitude one thousand feet above the highest recorded altitude for bees."
"Indeed! They don't like the cold, you see?" said Slughorn hopefully to Ron who was frowning slightly at Hermione.
"But the final ingredient has been the most illusive. This potion hasn't been brewed successfully for at least four hundred years, and all because the egg laying Topple Tree bat became extinct."
"You found some surviving Topple Tree bats?" asked Hermione.
"No, but we did find some egg shells under a toppled tree. The ground conditions just happened to be perfect for preservation!"
"Hm," said Hermione. "Actually, I always wondered why that bat survived for as long as it did. It only nested at the top of one type of tree and apparently it enjoyed burying below the roots, making the tree fall over."
"Indeed!" agreed Slughorn. "Ah, the wonder of nature. Now, as you probably know the potion has to be combined with a sample of, er, fresh vomit."
"Lovely," said Ron. "But what does this potion actually do?"
"It reveals the true identity of someone who has changed their appearance," said Hermione at once. "It is supposed to work for Polyjuice Potion and it even makes Animagi revert back."
"Oho, it does much more than that!" said Slughorn, bouncing up and down on his heels. "Transformations and other such disguises are revealed also. Miss Granger, can you recall how the test is administered?"
Hermione frowned and looked down, deep in concentration.
"Doesn't it react with the skin?"
"It does. For one of the tests, a small amount is spread onto the skin."
"There's more than one test?"
"Oh, yes," said Slughorn. "But the second part isn't in the text books. It can produce a violent reaction, but it is the only way I know of to reveal a Polyjuice impostor."
"How is that test administered, Professor?" asked Hermione, trying to sound casual.
"One simply sniffs the fumes of a heated sample."
"Hang on," said Ron. "Is this stuff really safe? What kind of reaction is it? How do you know it will really work?"
Everyone except Ron and Hermione laughed.
"Harry agreed to act as our test subject. He insisted upon undergoing all but the final test before you got here. That is why he went for his run before dawn."
"Okay," said Hermione slowly. "So Harry is Harry. I'm glad about that, but how will you know how a disguised person would react. I can't believe that a real Death Eater impostor couldn't fake a result."
"Yeah," agreed Ron. "What if they just pretended to sniff the potion?"
"Well," said Slughorn, "there is a reaction, even if the person really is who they claim to be. That one isn't in the text books either."
"But Voldemort knows so much that isn't in the text books, doesn't he?" challenged Hermione.
Ron shuddered, as did Slughorn.
Thankfully, he had just put down the precious potion.
"Um, Hermione," warned Harry. "This potion is all we've got. It really wouldn't do if we lost what we've got and only having tested me."
"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "You see my point, though?"
"Yes, Hermione, we do," agreed Harry. "Actually, I thought Snape rather than Voldemort might work out how to get around the effects of the potion."
"Great, so even if I don't test as a Death Eater, I might still be labelled a risk?" asked Ron.
"I'd still like you to agree to take the tests," said Harry.
"Harry," said Hermione shrewdly, "what aren't you telling us?"
"I'd like you to agree to take the tests," repeated Harry, turning to her.
They lapsed into silence for a long moment. The silence was broken by the loud sound of a rumbling stomach.
"Sorry," said Harry, rubbing his stomach and blushing. "It's been a long time since breakfast."
Ron and Hermione snorted.
"Oh, alright," said Ron, "I'll do it. Can I have another go if it comes up negative? I'm not good at potions at the best of times."
"You won't need to actually make the potion, Ron," said Harry as Slughorn brought a tray over to Ron's side. "Before the test can show you are anyone else, there will be number of procedures to follow."
"I'm sure they'll be most pleasant," said Ron sarcastically, turning in his seat.
"Face forward," ordered Hope seriously and both he and Carlyle raised new weapons. Harry recognised one as a stun gun and the other as an electric shock device.
As Slughorn fussed with the tray, Hermione said, "Um, will those things work? In Hogwarts I mean?"
"Yes, Hermione," said Harry. "They've been tested here," he added rubbing his chest absently.
Behind his back, wide grins appeared on the faces of his two escorts as they nodded.
"Um," said Hermione again. "I'm sure this might not be very a helpful thing to mention at this late stage, but I think I know a way around the test."
Everyone looked at her.
"Sorry," she added quietly, looking around.
"What's your idea, Hermione?" asked Harry, grinning at her.
"Well, it's a simple idea, really. What if the person you were testing really was an impostor and had taken Polyjuice Potion. They would then be physically identical to the real person, wouldn't they?"
Harry, Ron and Slughorn nodded.
"I think that if they then took the potion again, using a different sample, the Deceiver's Distillation could be fooled into revealing the wrong thing. Like a double bluff, you know?" she said, turning her head automatically at the movements being made behind her.
Hope and Carlyle were now raising their guns to Hermione's head, clearing thinking she knew all too much about Deceiver's Distillation for her not to be an impostor.
Hermione froze, looking at the end of the automatic weapon.
"Put the guns down," said Harry gently. They obeyed, albeit reluctantly.
Hermione gave a great sigh of relief and turned back to face Harry.
"The same thing did occur to us, Hermione. We've already tried it, and the part of the Deceiver's Distillation we could try wasn't fooled. It revealed the true person, but it takes a little time for all the permutations to work their way through."
As if on queue, Duke's and Careem's faces began to bubble. Hermione looked on in wide eyed astonishment as they appeared to swap places in front of her very eyes.
"They've been doing that for most of the morning on each hour," said Harry with a smile.
"Yes," agreed Slughorn, "the sight of five versions of me running around the lake was quite disturbing. Mind you, I must be in better shape than I thought to do so many laps!"
"You all impersonated each other?" Ron asked laughing.
"Well all except, Terri. She didn't give us any samples," quipped Smith with a grin. "Thought we might spend too long in the showers than was healthy."
The sniggers that went around the hall were quickly stifled at the none too pleased expression on Hope's face.
Harry coughed gently and asked, "Are we ready?"