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"Granger. Granger. Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers." "No. I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see." Harry saw Malfoy lean close to Nott and whisper something; both of them sniggered, but Slughorn showed no dismay; on the contrary, he beamed and looked from Hermione to Harry, who was sitting next to her.
"Oho! 'One of my best friends is Muggle-born, and she's the best in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry." "Yes, sir," said Harry.
"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger," said Slughorn genially.
Malfoy looked rather as he had done the time Hermione had punched him in the face.
Hermione turned to Harry with a radiant expression and whispered, "Did you really tell him I'm the best in the year. Oh, Harry!" "Well, what's so impressive about that." whispered Ron, who for some reason looked annoyed. "You are the best in the year - I'd've told him so if he'd asked me!" Hermione smiled but made a "shhing" gesture, so that they could hear what Slughorn was saying. Ron looked slightly disgruntled.
"Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room - oh yes," he said, nodding gravely at Maifoy and Nott, both of whom were smirking skeptically. "When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love. ...
"And now," said Slughorn, "it is time for us to start work." "Sir, you haven't told us what's in this one," said Ernie Macmillan , pointing at a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn's desk. The potion within was splashing about merrily; it was the color of molten gold, and large drops were leaping like goldfish above the surface, though not a particle had spilled.
"Oho," said Slughorn again. Harry was sure that Slughorn had not forgotten the potion at all, but had waited to be asked for dramatic effect. "Yes. That. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis. I take it," he turned, smiling, to look at Hermione, who had let out an audible gasp, "that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger." "It's liquid luck," said Hermione excitedly. "It makes you lucky!"
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