Codeword

"Who is she?"

"Pomona Sprout."

"She... she looks rather different."

"Polyjuice Potion, Neville," said an oily voice. "Doesn't Harry Potter drink that stuff all the time?"

If you could find a way to improve its taste, I'd be very grateful!

Just thinking of the slimy texture of potions made her want to vomit. She tried to open her eyes, but all she could sense was a burst of white light. Then someone leaned over and blocked it.

"He's here. Didn't you want to see him? Open your eyes."

She felt as though water had gotten into her ears in the shower; everything sounded muffled and unreal. But she still reached out by instinct and grabbed a piece of clothing.

It was a sweater. A wizard would not wear such Muggle clothing, but she knew who had come. She relaxed, and her mouth felt as sweet as though she had eaten sugar.

"How did she end up like this?"

"Just like your mother," the man said coldly. "Two women ended up this way because of you. You're really brave, Longbottom."

Don't hurt him. Hasn't he suffered enough already?

Pomona wanted to punch that person, but she felt unbearable pain, as if some immense force were tearing her body apart, making her howl in agony.

"Cruciatus Curse!"

She heard a man shout. A green light shot from his wand and struck her. On his face, she saw nothing but evil and madness.

"Why are you doing this?" Pomona shed tears. As she was about to lose consciousness, the deranged man seemed to realize something and threw away his wand.

"You shouldn't have opened the door for him," a demonic voice whispered in her ear. "Kindness is not always repaid. Do you remember the story of the farmer and the snake?"

On a cold winter day, a farmer returning home from the market found a snake frozen stiff by the roadside. He pitied it and placed it in his clothes. Once his body heat warmed the snake, it quickly revived, revealing its cruel nature. It dealt the farmer a fatal blow, biting him. Before he died, the farmer said, "I saved a pitiful venomous snake. I deserve this retribution!"

"You deserve it," said the voice. "Stupid woman!"

Is this why you hate your mother?

Pomona slapped that neither-human-nor-ghost thing hard across the face. Then pain swept through her body again, and she began screaming once more.

"Get out!" she heard the man say with disgust. "Don't stand there like a block of wood."

"How are you alive?" Neville said tearfully. "I attended your funeral."

"Did you cry out loud, Longbottom?" The man turned to look at Neville. "Don't just stand there. Go get a doctor!"

Why don't you wash your hair? It's always so greasy.

She passed out amid the intense pain. When she woke again, she had already left Hogwarts and was standing before a house that looked utterly dilapidated.

"This is the place." Professor McGonagall lifted her skirts as she walked to the door, pointing her wand at the lock. "Alohomora."

The lock opened with ease, nothing like the sort of house rumored to be able to contain magical creatures.

"Are you all right?" Frank Longbottom bent down, looking at Pomona with concern. "You don't look very well."

"I have... a bad feeling." Pomona trembled all over as tears silently fell. "I'm so sorry."

"You don't need to apologize to me. Here, have some chocolate." Frank took a sweet from his pocket. "You'll feel much better after eating it."

Pomona wanted to say that she had chocolate in her own pocket, and that she had even eaten chocolate for breakfast, but she still accepted the chocolate Frank gave her.

It was a little bitter at first, but mostly sweet. The filling contained liquor. She had eaten some salad for dinner, and the lingering taste in her mouth made it feel as though she had just eaten a lavish meal.

"Do you like the flavor?" Frank asked.

Pomona nodded.

"It's brandy-flavored. I think desserts taste better with a little alcohol in them. Alice prefers rum. Here, have another."

"No, one is enough."

"Put it in your pocket. The next time you feel sad, take it out and eat it." Frank insistently placed it in Pomona's palm. "Though I hope I never see you sad and crying again."

"Who is Alice?"

"My wife. We got married this year." Frank looked Pomona up and down, then suddenly said, "Hmm, perhaps in a few years you'll be a threat, but for now you're fine. If there's a chance next time, I'll introduce you two. I'm sure she won't be jealous."

"Why, because I'm not pretty?" she asked, pretending to be angry.

"No, because you're too young, Professor Martin." Frank laughed. "Oh, Dumbledore, that old man really has too many strange ideas."

Frank seemed to like that old madman Dumbledore very much. Pomona felt somewhat deflated; she wanted to find someone like-minded to gossip with about Dumbledore.

"I'm sorry."

He saw someone kneeling on the ground, weeping and repenting. Unfortunately, his head was lowered, so she could not see what he looked like.

It isn't your fault. You shouldn't be the one repenting.

"Please forgive me."

Pomona suddenly understood why Avada Kedavra, the Cruciatus Curse, and the Imperius Curse were Unforgivable Curses.

One day, the caster would regret their decision, but unfortunately, they had no Time-Turner to return to the past.

"Is there something you want to say? Why do you look so anxious?" Frank had been waiting for her retort, but she did not want to speak to him now.

She had an important message to leave for someone.

"I heard Dumbledore say that you're a half-blood Veela," Frank said expressionlessly. "Does the full moon affect you too?"

"No... I just, just..." She was anxious, and the more anxious she became, the worse she stammered. Then she spotted a Christmas cactus in the corner of the room and, as if possessed, ran over and knelt beside it. Then she said to it, "Beware the Time-Turner!"

Having said it, she felt much better, as though she had vomited after eating something bad. Then she stood up and found Professor McGonagall and Frank staring at her strangely.

"Is that your gift?" Professor McGonagall said. "Talking to plants?"

Pomona thought any child with that sort of gift would surely be strange. Who talked to potted plants?

"Not me." Pomona looked at Frank Longbottom. "You're the last direct descendant of the Longbottom family. Does your mother know you joined the Aurors?"

"Shh, it's a secret." Frank raised a finger to his lips in a silencing gesture. "Even though the entire Ministry of Magic already knows."

Pomona thought his bizarre sense of humor might have been passed on from Dumbledore. If the whole Ministry knew, how could his mother not know?

"Come in," Professor McGonagall said to them. "The others will be here soon."

Pomona had many questions she wanted to ask, but in the end she entered the house standing alone in the middle of nowhere without saying a word. They couldn't Apparate at Hogwarts, so they had come under cover of night on flying brooms. Though the moon overhead was not as round and bright as a full moon, it was still dazzling. She hoped no one had noticed them coming here.

"A diversion." Frank flicked the brim of his hat. "Don't worry. Someone is covering for us."

"What does that mean?" Pomona noticed that Professor McGonagall had also deliberately gestured with the brim of her hat.

"You want me to wear a hat? How ridiculous." A black-robed man with greasy hair held a glass of whiskey to his lips without drinking, his face full of mocking amusement.

"Why? Because it doesn't suit the Dark Lord's aesthetic?" she snapped.

That greasy hair—why couldn't he cover it with a hat? They were both Potions professors, yet Slughorn wore a hat when brewing potions, and his hair did not look nearly as awful.

"It has nothing to do with him. It's my style." He drained the glass in one gulp, then let out a long breath. "Oh, this is probably the only wonderful thing in the Order of the Phoenix."

"And you're the worst thing among the Death Eaters." Wearing her hat, she stormed off in fury. Even more shamelessly, he came and went with Lucius Malfoy—the impeccably dressed, meticulously groomed peacock who radiated classical beauty. Where did he get that confidence?

"What exactly do you see in him?" Marlene McKinnon noticed their interaction and asked with a frown.

"Not unless I'm blind," Pomona said through gritted teeth. She was merely glad that someone else had seen Dumbledore's true nature, so they could complain about him together.

McKinnon opened her mouth, but in the end said nothing. There were still plenty of dishes to wash at the meeting place.