Polyjuice Potion and the Infiltration Plan (2)

Harry's eyes widened slightly. He remembered what Dumbledore had said when he handed him that two-way mirror—"If you encounter anything strange at school, call my name into the mirror."

It wasn't an order, nor was it a warning. It was a key.

A key that could open that door at any time.

But Dumbledore hadn't said, "You must use it," nor had he said, "You mustn't use it." He had placed the key in Harry's palm, then let him decide when to use it.

"So—he's actually letting us investigate?" Ron's voice rose half an octave before he quickly lowered it again. He glanced at the younger students dozing around them, making sure no one had noticed.

"Not 'letting,'" Hermione corrected. "Not stopping us. There's an essential difference between the two. If he explicitly told us to investigate, then he'd have to take responsibility for our safety. If something went wrong, it would be his responsibility. But if we decide to investigate ourselves and bear the responsibility ourselves—then he's merely 'not stopping us.'" She paused, and her voice softened. "That's what adults are like. They can't make decisions for you, but they can pave the road, light the lamps, and wait for you to walk it yourself."

Harry fell silent for several seconds, then slowly nodded.

"So what do you mean, the Polyjuice Potion is ready?" Ron turned toward the large bottle on the table, wrapped in thick cloth and giving off a strange smell.

Hermione walked over and carefully untied the wrapping, revealing what was inside. The bottle was filled with thick, mud-like liquid whose color constantly shifted—dark brown, gray-green, and eerie purple foam bubbling through it. An indescribable stench spread through the air, a mixture of rotten cabbage, bad eggs, and harsh chemicals. Ron immediately covered his nose.

"Polyjuice