Snape produced two magical plants with broad green leaves and placed them on the table without explanation. Roger Williams recognised them at once from The Magical Aquatic Plants of Highland Lakes and Their Properties: Gillyweed.
"Well," Roger thought, glancing from the plants to Snape's expressionless face, "looks like I'm definitely going into the Black Lake."
"What is gillyweed used for?" Snape asked, taking out water, sea-serpent scales, and several other materials before processing them one by one with precise, economical movements.
"If swallowed whole, it causes webbing to grow between the fingers and toes, and temporary gills to form on the neck," Roger answered quickly. He watched Snape's hands closely, knowing better than to miss a rare demonstration.
"If I remember correctly, you are going to the Black Lake to collect Water-Ripple Grass," Snape said coldly. "Do you think raw gillyweed is safe to use directly?"
"I believe a potion-maker should never use raw materials directly unless forced to do so, because it is disgraceful," Roger said righteously, giving the perfect answer according to the ideas Snape had beaten into him. "Although gillyweed has miraculous effects, it only lasts for an hour. Professor, forgive my bluntness, but swallowing raw gillyweed is no better than a pig grunting into its trough."
Snape did not praise him, but he did not sneer either, which Roger took as a minor victory. He watched as Snape poured water into a copper cauldron, adjusted the fire to a steady medium heat, and brought it to a rolling boil.
The chopped gillyweed went in next. Snape stirred clockwise for ten full minutes, and soon the liquid in the cauldron began to release curling green fumes.
At that point, Snape added powdered sea-serpent scale and continued stirring clockwise until the powder dissolved completely. Roger noticed that Snape then lowered the flame until only a tiny bead of fire remained beneath the cauldron.
Snape stirred gently, letting the potion simmer over low heat. A full fifteen minutes passed before he finally stopped, removed the cauldron from the fire, and waited for it to cool completely.
When the potion settled, it turned a deep blue. It was beautiful in an ominous way, like lake water under moonlight, and Roger had the uncomfortable feeling that Snape had not made anything as simple as a gill-breathing potion.
"Ten Water-Ripple plants," Snape said, tossing him a backpack. "Bring them to me before the end of classes tomorrow."
Roger caught the bag, and Snape immediately waved him out as if he had no further use for him. Once outside the dungeon, Roger quickly opened the bag, which had clearly been expanded with an Undetectable Extension Charm.
Inside were the processed troll materials. One glass jar contained troll bogeys, while a smaller one held the troll's eyeballs, and even the hide had been cleaned so meticulously that not a trace of stink remained.
The other miscellaneous parts had been sorted neatly. The troll's head had even been prepared as a specimen, perfect for hanging on a wall if one happened to have Snape's taste in decoration.
Unfortunately, Snape had not provided any ingredients for making more underwater potions. That meant Roger had to use slightly crooked methods, namely borrowing some supplies from the professor's office when the old bat was not looking.
As for taking the secret passage to Hogsmeade, that was absolutely against school rules. If Roger ever did such a thing, it would only be because someone forced him into it.
The Black Lake was enormous, and it was teeming with life. From what Roger had found in the library alone, there were merpeople, giant squid, Grindylows, and flesh-eating eels beneath the surface.
That was not even the main problem. The truly troublesome part was that Roger could not find the exact location of Water-Ripple Grass.
"Ask Snape?" Roger shook his head almost immediately. If he asked Snape, he would probably be mocked for half an hour before receiving one grudging sentence of useful information. "Why not ask the approachable Head of Hufflepuff instead?"
Professor Sprout was tending plants in the greenhouse when she saw him. Her round face brightened at once, and she waved him in with the warmth of someone welcoming a neighbour rather than a student.
"Oh, little Roger, come here," she said, pulling him inside. "Try to feel the fragrance of the earth and the whispers of the plants."
She pressed Roger's hand gently into the soil and told him to close his eyes. The soft earth felt like a mother's embrace, and Roger slowly relaxed into the sensation.
He smelled fresh white mint drifting through the greenhouse. He heard the sleepy breathing of Radman grass, and he even sensed the sadness of a nearby sneezewort root tucked into the soil.
"Professor, this feels like another world," Roger said, eyes still closed. He enjoyed the feeling more than he expected.
"Yes, little Roger," Professor Sprout said happily. "The warmth and generosity of the earth, the brightness of sunlight, and the vibrant life of plants. They are all part of the same song."
She was delighted that Roger could feel these things. From the moment she had seen him in Azkaban, she had felt a special affection for the child, because she could sense the deep darkness around him, but also the stubborn, unyielding struggle within that darkness.
"Sunshine and soil. We are all children of the earth," Roger said with a laugh.
If he could, he would also like to sit in a rocking chair beneath grapevines with Yumi in his arms and sleep peacefully through the afternoon. Unfortunately, Snape existed, and peaceful afternoons were not a privilege Roger currently possessed.
"Professor, could you give me a few stalks of gillyweed?" Roger asked, opening his eyes. "Professor Snape asked me to collect Water-Ripple Grass from the bottom of the Black Lake."
"Water-Ripple Grass?" Professor Sprout frowned and set her shovel aside. "That grows at the bottom of the lake, in the merpeople's territory."
"Merpeople?" Roger could not help imagining the beautiful mermaids from fairy tales, though he knew the inhabitants of the Black Lake were not nearly so pleasant to look at.
"Do not be fooled by fairy tales, little Roger," Professor Sprout warned.
She drew the outline of a merperson in the soil with one finger. Their skin, she explained, was as rough as withered leaves, their noses broad and flat, and their backs marked by strong fins.
"They have large yellow eyes and sharp teeth," Professor Sprout said, scratching eye sockets into the little drawing. "They are different from us, but they are still classified among sentient beings."
"Sentient beings that look like this?" Roger asked, staring at the dirt sketch.
"Of course," Professor Sprout said. "In the Ministry of Magic's earliest definitions, any creature that could speak a human language was considered a being. Later, the criteria were broadened to include merpeople as well."
She shook her head with mild regret. "Unfortunately, the merpeople did not wish to be grouped alongside darker creatures such as hags and vampires, and rejected the Ministry's classification."
"The Black Lake on campus is very large," she continued. "The merpeople only occupy a portion of it, but even so, they have their own community and school beneath the water."
"Little Roger, they are wary of wizards," Professor Sprout said, her expression growing serious. "I'll go speak with Severus. Sending a first-year down there is terribly irresponsible, even some graduates would not be brave enough to try."
"Professor, don't worry. My spells are very strong, and I'm not even afraid of trolls," Roger said, waving his wand to reassure her.
Then he added, "Besides, the merpeople live at the bottom of the Black Lake. If they truly harmed Hogwarts students, the Headmaster and the Ministry of Magic would not let them off easily."
He smiled. "Maybe I can even make a few merpeople friends."
"All right, little Roger," Professor Sprout said at last.
Seeing his firm attitude, she no longer tried to stop him. Instead, she went to another greenhouse and brought back five or six stalks of gillyweed.
"Take these with you," she said. "Each one should let you remain underwater for about an hour. If you insist on going down, have a friend keep watch from the shore so someone can call for help if anything goes wrong."
"Thank you, Professor," Roger said.
He accepted the gillyweed, then gave Professor Sprout a gentle hug. "I'll definitely bring you one back as a souvenir."
The following evening, Roger arrived at the lakeshore with the prepared potion. Hermione was busy with homework, so he had Daphne keep watch instead, and she had brought an enchanted rope with one end tied firmly around Roger's waist.
"Are you really going down?" Daphne asked worriedly, holding Roger's clothes in her arms. "What about tomorrow? It's already getting dark, and we won't be able to see anything."
"Don't worry, Daphne," Roger said.
He removed his shirt, revealing the well-defined muscles beneath. Daphne's eyes widened slightly before she looked away, her cheeks colouring in the cool evening air.
"My eyes are like an owl's. I can see in the dark," Roger said.
He opened the glass bottle and swallowed the potion, enduring its unpleasant taste with a grimace. The effect came almost immediately.
His legs fused and transformed into a fish tail, while his black hair rapidly lengthened until it brushed his shoulders. A strange coolness spread across his skin, and his breathing changed as if the air itself had become too thin.
Daphne stared at him in astonishment. "My God, Roger. You've turned into a mermaid."
"I know," Roger said, looking down at his lower half.
His gaze landed on the fish tail, and he cursed Snape silently in his heart. The old bat had promised him an underwater solution, but what he had drunk was clearly something else entirely.
In reality, Snape had never told him the potion's name. The idea that it was merely a gill-breathing potion had been Roger's assumption from beginning to end.
"Sea-serpent scales and gillyweed," Roger muttered with deep regret. "I should have thought of that sooner."
While he regretted his mistake, the little witch beside him reached out and touched his fish tail.
.....
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