A/N: Reuploading this, it's having trouble with doing paragraphs.
The boy smiled grimly. The potion was nearly done. Only a few more minutes, and
it'd be ready.
He skimmed through the recipe again. Yes, he'd gotten everything correct. Not that
that was hard, it was such a simple potion!
He laughed aloud. Such a simple potion, and Professor Ravenclaw was afraid of it.
Not of the potion itself, but simply of the knowledge of making it! Because of one
lousy side-effect, she forbade all students from learning about it and refused to learn
so itself!
"She's wrong, though," he said aloud. "She's wrong! No knowledge can be evil!" He
grinned, exhilerated, the power of forbidden knowledge coursing through him.
"Everyone is just terrified of the so-called Dark Arts. Even Professor Ravenclaw!"
He'd always looked up to the Head of his House. "But how can knowledge be evil?"
he said wonderingly. "Knowledge is neutral. It's what you use it for that makes it
good or evil. The real crime," he grew more sure of himself with every word, "the real
crime is keeping it locked away with the excuse of it being evil!
The others, they don't understand. No one understands, only me. Everyone else will
immediately start preaching 'that is evil, we may not learn it' as soon as I even
mention the 'Dark Arts'. And those Slytherin boys, that Malfoy and his cronies…" he
wrinkled his nose. "They understand least of all. Whenever I tell them I've discovered
a new poison, a new curse, all they can think of is how they can use it to their own
benefit! They don't understand that knowledge is valuable in itself, simply because it
is and not because of what you can use it for. Ah well, they have their uses. I could
never have gotten so many books out of the Restricted Section without them."
The boy smiled again. The potion was done. It was rather harmless, actually, only
with one unfortunate side-effect. And he wasn't going to use it or anything. But this
was the first time he'd actually made one of the many forbidden potions he'd read
about. "Looking at this, you'd never think it was classified as evil and dangerous."
The potion was watery and grey in color. The boy sniffed at it, then wrinkled his
nose… it smelt of wet socks. But even the complete simplicity of the potion couldn't
lessen his delight. He'd made a forbidden potion, and nothing had happened. Not that
he'd rationally thought anything would, he'd prepared this for quite a while now. But
somehow, there'd always been the nagging fear in the back of his mind that Professor
Ravenclaw would pop up at see what he was doing. He shuddered at the thought.
Malfoy and his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, came around the corner. Malfoy
grinned cruelly. "So, is that potion done now?"
"Yes, it is indeed," the boy said in a cool and clipped voice.
"And? What does it do?"
"Oh, nothing really."
"Nothing? What is the use of it if it does nothing? You were so excited about a potion
that does nothing? I'll never understand you, Ravenclaw." Fuming, the three
Slytherins stalked away.
"That's right, Malfoy. You don't understand. No one understands." The boy hugged
the cauldron to him. "You're wrong. You're all wrong. There are no Dark Arts.
You're wrong."
The boy smiled grimly. The potion was nearly done. Only a few more minutes, and
it'd be ready.
He skimmed through the recipe again. Yes, he'd gotten everything correct. Not that
that was hard, it was such a simple potion!
He laughed aloud. Such a simple potion, and Professor Ravenclaw was afraid of it.
Not of the potion itself, but simply of the knowledge of making it! Because of one
lousy side-effect, she forbade all students from learning about it and refused to learn
so itself!
"She's wrong, though," he said aloud. "She's wrong! No knowledge can be evil!" He
grinned, exhilerated, the power of forbidden knowledge coursing through him.
"Everyone is just terrified of the so-called Dark Arts. Even Professor Ravenclaw!"
He'd always looked up to the Head of his House. "But how can knowledge be evil?"
he said wonderingly. "Knowledge is neutral. It's what you use it for that makes it
good or evil. The real crime," he grew more sure of himself with every word, "the real
crime is keeping it locked away with the excuse of it being evil!
The others, they don't understand. No one understands, only me. Everyone else will
immediately start preaching 'that is evil, we may not learn it' as soon as I even
mention the 'Dark Arts'. And those Slytherin boys, that Malfoy and his cronies…" he
wrinkled his nose. "They understand least of all. Whenever I tell them I've discovered
a new poison, a new curse, all they can think of is how they can use it to their own
benefit! They don't understand that knowledge is valuable in itself, simply because it
is and not because of what you can use it for. Ah well, they have their uses. I could
never have gotten so many books out of the Restricted Section without them."
The boy smiled again. The potion was done. It was rather harmless, actually, only
with one unfortunate side-effect. And he wasn't going to use it or anything. But this
was the first time he'd actually made one of the many forbidden potions he'd read
about. "Looking at this, you'd never think it was classified as evil and dangerous."
The potion was watery and grey in color. The boy sniffed at it, then wrinkled his
nose… it smelt of wet socks. But even the complete simplicity of the potion couldn't
lessen his delight. He'd made a forbidden potion, and nothing had happened. Not that
he'd rationally thought anything would, he'd prepared this for quite a while now. But
somehow, there'd always been the nagging fear in the back of his mind that Professor
Ravenclaw would pop up at see what he was doing. He shuddered at the thought.
Malfoy and his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, came around the corner. Malfoy
grinned cruelly. "So, is that potion done now?"
"Yes, it is indeed," the boy said in a cool and clipped voice.
"And? What does it do?"
"Oh, nothing really."
"Nothing? What is the use of it if it does nothing? You were so excited about a potion
that does nothing? I'll never understand you, Ravenclaw." Fuming, the three
Slytherins stalked away.
"That's right, Malfoy. You don't understand. No one understands." The boy hugged
the cauldron to him. "You're wrong. You're all wrong. There are no Dark Arts.
You're wrong."