Polyjuice Potion and the Infiltration Plan (IV)

Draught of Living Death was colorless and tasteless. Mixed into rich Butterbeer, it was guaranteed to fool even the most discerning taster. Hermione had spent a full two hours in the kitchen, ensuring that the dose in every drink was precisely calculated—not too much, not too little, just enough to put three people into a deep sleep within twenty minutes, with no memory of how they had fallen asleep when they woke.

Pansy's glass was empty. Crabbe's glass was empty too. As for Goyle's glass—he had been so thirsty that he had downed three in one go.

Hermione counted down silently: ten, nine, eight, seven—

Pansy's eyelids began to droop. She propped her chin on one hand, trying to stay awake, but her body had already stopped listening to her. Her head slowly tilted to one side, then, with a thud, she collapsed onto the table.

Crabbe and Goyle went down almost at the same time. Crabbe tipped backward, making his chair creak under his weight; Goyle slumped face-first onto the table, knocking over the tea stand and sending muffins and sandwiches rolling across the floor.

Hermione stood and used the Levitation Charm on Pansy and the other two, moving them to the sofa in the corner of the classroom. The sofa was small, but it fit all three perfectly. She placed Pansy furthest in, Crabbe in the middle, and Goyle on the outside, then sat in a chair nearby and waited five minutes. When the potion's time was up, she changed back to her original appearance.

Hermione walked to the door and let out a long breath. Her hands were still shaking, not from fear, but from the exhaustion that came after the adrenaline faded. But she had no time to rest. She glanced at the clock in the