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"Well, now, this looks absolutely wonderful," said Slughorn an hour and a half later, clapping his hands together as he stared down into the sunshine yellow contents of Harry's cauldron. "Euphoria, I take it. And what's that I smell. Mmmm . . . you've added just a sprig of peppermint, haven't you. Unorthodox, but what a stroke of inspiration, Harry, of course, that would tend to counterbalance the occasional side effects of excessive singing and nose-tweaking. ... I really don't know where you get these brain waves, my boy . . . unless —" Harry pushed the Half-Blood Prince's book deeper into his bag with his foot.
"— it's just your mother's genes coming out in you!" "Oh . . . yeah, maybe," said Harry, relieved.
Ernie was looking rather grumpy; determined to outshine Harry for once, he had most rashly invented his own potion, which had curdled and formed a kind of purple dumpling at the bottom of his cauldron. Malfoy was already packing up, sour-faced; Slughorn had pronounced his Hiccuping Solution merely "passable." ..;.
The bell rang and both Ernie and Malfoy left at once. "Sir," Harry began, but Slughorn immediately glanced over his shoulder; when he saw that the room was empty but for himself and Harry, he hurried away as fast as he could.
"Professor — Professor, don't you want to taste my po — ." called Harry desperately.
But Slughorn had gone. Disappointed, Harry emptied the cauldron, packed up his things, left the dungeon, and walked slowly back upstairs to the common room.
Ron and Hermione returned in the late afternoon.
"Harry!" cried Hermione as she climbed through the portrait hole. "Harry, I passed!"
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