The Imperius Crush

Part One

Rain slashed at the windows of Gryffindor Tower. Hermione looked out through her window at the sodden grounds and the ruffled gray surface of the lake and sighed. She was rooming by herself year, a privilege allowed to Prefects at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her room, tucked under the eaves at the top of the tower, was tiny, barely big enough to hold her four-poster, her desk, and her school trunk, but it was all hers and she loved it. It had become her second favorite place at Hogwarts, the first being the library of course, only just now it seemed more like a prison cell in Azkaban.

It had all come from her desperation to prepare for her O.W.L. tests. Granted, she shouldn't have been reading transfiguration texts in Potions class, but was that any reason for Professor Snape to banish her from the library for an entire week? Not that, when it came to being nasty, vindictive and unfair, Professor Snape needed a reason.

She thought of going to find Harry and Ron, who were doubtless studying down in the Common Room. Lately, though, she couldn't manage to say two words to Ron without getting in some kind of argument. Then Harry, the peacemaker, would try to intervene and no one would get any studying done. That was very hard on Ron, whose grades lately were not what they should have been. He seemed to be distracted about something. Hermione had a fairly good idea of what the something was, but as long as Ron refused to admit it, what could she do?

Well, no use moping around here. She went down the stairs to the fifth year girl’s dorm, where she could hear her classmates, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown giggling. The topic had to be boys, makeup, or maybe the Witch Weekly Quiz. Witch Weakness, Hermione thought, gritting her teeth. Last year, Snape had read five horrible paragraphs of Rita Skeeter's lies about her to the entire class, Slytherins included, of course. Well, she'd got even with Rita. Snape, unfortunately, was officially On Our Side, and that meant he was off limits, but someday, Professor, she promised herself, the war against Voldemort will be over, you'll collect your Order of Merlin, and I will curse you into a jellied slug and pickle you in your own juice. If Harry doesn't do it first.

She knocked on the door. "It’s me," she said, and they let her in.

"What's up?" Parvati asked. She, along with her identical twin, Padma, was said to be the prettiest girl in Hermione's year. She was holding out her hands, her fingers splayed. An enchanted brush was painting her nails.

"Uh, I wanted to know if you had any books I could borrow."

"Help yourself," said Lavender Brown, waving at her collection. "But I thought you didn't like romances." Lavender was short, blonde and since, last year or so, very curvy.

"I am desperate," Hermione announced. " It's three more days till I get my library privileges back. So I thought, if you could point me at something that's not too horrible..."

Trashy, juvenile and far-fetched she meant, but didn't say so.

"Why not?" Lavender got up and squatted down by her trunk. It must have had an expansion charm on it, to hold all the garishly covered paperbacks inside. They were wizarding books, because the pictures on the covers were all moving. A hero, he was clearly a hero, judging by his noble expression and the swooning way in which the heroine was leaning up against him, turned his head to her and gave her a flirty wink. He looked a bit like a long-haired version of Gilderoy Lockhart.

"You like steamy or sweet?" Lavender asked.

"Umm..." said Hermione, blushing a little.

"Never mind," said Lavender, "I'll just give you an assortment. She sorted through her collection, and Hermione left with about twenty of them piled in her arms.

Back upstairs, she dumped them into a heap at the end of her bed, picked one out of the pile at random and started in. After a while, she began to feel a bit heady, her mind filled with rose petals and mush, wondering if men ever actually acted like that. The only man she'd ever seen on his knees had been her Dad, looking for his key chain. Aside from Wormtail, come to think of it. Hermione tried not to.

Before dinner, Hermione gathered the books up and brought them back.

"You've finished already?" Parvati asked.

"Why not, she's the brain around here," Lavender said.

"Umm, well, actually, I didn't read them all straight through. They sort of fall open on the good parts."

"Steamy, definitely," said Lavender.

"Although I liked the Hogwartsy ones too. What is it, Selena Sablefield's School of Spellcraft and Sorcery? Those were kind of fun."

"OOOh yeah, Desiree Drinkwater. " said Parvati. "Although I wasn't sure you'd go for that one, Hermione. That seventh year one? Wooo, wooo"

"Wooo, wooo?" Hermione questioned.

"Parvi, I didn't give her that one! " Lavender squealed. "She's a prefect! And a brain! I couldn't!"

"What do you mean? Just because I have got a badge and a brain doesn't mean I don't have--I mean, honestly."

"Well, in that case, just leave your superior attitude at the door and dive right in, Ms. Prefect."

"My what? Parvati, I do not have a superior attitude. Do I?"

"Well, you're not as bad as perfect Percy was, but you only talk to famous Harry Potter and his scintillating sidekick. And they never talk to any one but you."

Hermione had to admit that this was sort of true. She tried to explain.

"Honestly, Harry's sort of shy, you know. I think he's a little scared of people"

"What?" said Lavender. "You're trying to tell me the hero who defeated You-Know-Who is scared of us?"

"Well, he didn't have a lot of friends before he came to Hogwarts, you know. And I guess having two friends seems like a whole lot, if you've never had any. It isn't as though he's shunning everyone else, or something. And nor am I"

"Huh!" said Parvati. "Well I know one thing, he wasn't too shy to ask Cho to the ball last year. I guess I was second best."

"What?" said Hermione, "How do you know? "

"Because Padma in Ravenclaw told her, of course." said Lavender. "Didn't you know?"

"Not about Cho." Hermione shook her head in wonder.

"I don't believe it," said Parvati, "There is something she-who-must-know -everything actually doesn't know."

"Knock it off, Parvati" said Lavender, who noticed that Hermione was looking rather hurt.

"Here, this'll cheer you up. Read it if you dare. " Lavender fetched a book from under the bed. "Presenting Desiree Drinkwater's finest work. 7th year. Love's Desperate Hour."

"Just picture yourself in the good part. " Parvati put in. "Starring the school brain and her favorite professor!"

"My favorite Professor's McGonagall, " Hermione said dubiously. The other two girls giggled.

"Lavi's making fun," said Parvati, when she could talk.

"It's about this professor," Lavender began. "You'll recognize him--

"And he gets the Imperius crush on this girl--" Parvati continued. They seemed to be able to finish each other's sentences almost as easily as Fred and George.

"Who happens to be the school brain--"

"And they get--"

"Involved." The two girls started giggling again.

"Well, I suppose it must happen sometimes," said Hermione thoughtfully. " I mean, teachers are only human, after all."

"I don’t know about that," said Parvati. "Lupin wasn't. He was a werewolf!"

"Yeah, and Binns is a ghost, and Snape is probably a vampire or something," Lavender added, with a little shudder.

"Oh he can’t be, " said Hermione, " I mean, I know he doesn't get outside much, but I have seen him in daylight. At Quidditch matches, you know."

"So, he could be one of those Bulgarian daywalkers or something," suggested Parvati. "Viktor Krum told me about them, " she added.

"Can't be, " said Hermione, unconsciously adopting a lecturing voice. "You have to be registered with the Ministry of Magic if you're part human and carrying a wand, and I checked the register when I was researching about House Elves, and Snape is definitely not on it."

"So, maybe he forgot to tell them, " Parvati said.

Hermione shook her head. "Listen, that would be really serious, they could send him to Azkaban for that."

"I only wish they would," said Lavender.

"Likewise, " echoed Parvati. "Anyway you've simply got to read this. Page 87: Their first time."

"First times are so special" Lavender said, putting on a breathy voice.

They giggled madly.

Hermione took the book warily. "This isn't something I'll have to confiscate is it?" she asked, fingering her prefect's badge.

"Oh no, " said Lavender. "I mean, it's not like it's graphic or something.

"Hands at the waist, lips at the collarbone, fade to black," said Parvati. "And nothing statutory, our heroine is of age, you understand."

Hermione sat down on the edge of Parvati's bed, and started reading on page 87. Slowly, her jaw dropped and her face grew pink. "No," she whispered, "oh no." She threw the book down on the bed. And then she felt the giggles start. She buried her face in Parvati's pillow, her shoulders shaking.

"Behold," said Parvati. "Another reader brought to Desiree Drinkwater...our heroine, lioness of the literary world, dedicated to bringing love and enlightenment to a generation of lonely school girls."

Hermione sat up, still giggling, and her eyes fell on Parvati's copy of Witch Weekly.

"Can you imagine," she said slowly, "If we read this," she pointed to the book, " out loud in Potions some time."

"Oh my god, Hermione, we'd get detention for the rest of our lives."

"Might be worth it," said Lavender.

"So, maybe we could get the Slytherins to read it," suggested Parvati.

"Maybe...we could get Snape to read it," said Lavender.

"We could," said Hermione, suddenly

"No way, how?" they asked.

"Well, not really Snape, but sounding like him. I could do the Memorex charm on one of you, and you'd sound just like him."

"Cool! Well, wait, you're sure it's not permanent or anything?" Lavender asked. "I don't get stuck sounding like him forever, do I?"

"No, of course not. But, um, I'll need something he's touched recently."

"Potions homework," Lavender offered. " Gave me an F the greasy ba-"

"That will work," Hermione cut in quickly.

Hermione touched her wand to the parchment and murmured something.

"Now I just point it at your throat, Lavender."

"Wait, " said the other girl. "Check the door, Parvi, and make sure there aren't any ickle firsties lurking out there. All safe? Got it. "

They all piled onto Parvati's four-poster and drew the curtains, their voices mingling in excited whispers. [Shh! Better try to be quiet...we don't want anyone to think he's actually in here. Circe's swine, what a thought]...Hermione did the charm.

And Lavender began to read, two octaves lower than usual, in a voice as soft and smooth as silk.

He came toward her, driven by the desire flooding every fibre of his being. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, sweetly first and then fiercely.

Lavender burst out laughing and all three of them were suddenly helpless.

"You don't know how weird it is to hear Snape laughing---"

"I --can't---stop--" said Lavender.

"Sobersidus!" said Hermione, aiming her wand once more, barely managing to stop giggling herself long enough to do the spell. A puff of blue smoke jetted from the end of Hermione's wand, briefly enveloping the other girl.

Lavender calmed down immediately, wiped tears from her eyes and continued reading in Snape's quiet expressive voice.

Her arms were around his neck, her fingers twisted in his long black hair.

With an effort he stepped back, his fathomless black eyes locked on her face.

"Off to bed now," he said.

"Mine?" she whispered. "Or yours?"

"Mine," he heard himself say. "Oh god, if you'll have me."

"I will." Trembling she reached toward him.

"Let's get out of here."

One arm around her waist, he caught a handful of green powder from a jar on the mantle and flung it sparkling into the fire.

"Hold tight" he said and the next moment they were spinning through the flames and the darkness, tumbling out through another fireplace onto the hearthrug, still clinging to each other. They were in a bedroom.

A little voice spoke in the back of his mind. This is wrong.

He looked down at her, her honey hair spread over the carpet, her lips half open, her hazel eyes half closed.

He raised himself over her, his fingers on the clasp of her robes.

"You can still change your mind," he told her.

"Do you want me to?"

"God, no. "

She looked up, into the black pools, and his hands touched her bare skin like coals, and then she was drowning, burning, annihilated, only to be reborn in his arms...

Hermione and Parvati could only hold on to each other, laughing hysterically at the top of their lungs as Lavender finished the passage.

"Oy, up there!" Fred Weasley's voice came faintly from the bottom of the stairs.

"What's going on?" yelled George. "Practicing cheering charms?"

Hermione and Parvati laughed louder than ever. They heard uncertain footsteps climbing the girls' stair.

"Ohoh, they're coming," said Parvati.

"Do something, " hissed Lavender, still in Snape's voice, which only provoked more laughter.

"Miss Granger," said Lavender, in Snape's lowest, most dangerous voice," if you don't take the spell off me right now--"

"There will be serious consequences!" Parvati finished, in a high-pitched squeal.

Shaking, holding onto the bedpost for support, Hermione leveled her wand at Lavender. Finite Incantatem, she said.

Lavender screamed. Parvati pushed the curtains back, and Fred and George burst into the room with Harry and Ron behind them, all looking alarmed.

"That was sooo funny!" Lavender screeched. "We have got to find a way to do this!" She pounded the bed with her fist.

"Out!" said Hermione, the prefect in her momentarily taking over. "Girl's side!" Then she started laughing again.

"Do what?" Fred asked, looking interested.

Hermione shook her head. "We mustn't, really."

"Are you all right? " Ron asked her. She collapsed against him, wild with mirth, gasping. He patted her back awkwardly. "Hey, calm down...is it a spell or something?"

""I'm all right," she panted. "I just... need... a drink ...of water or... something."

"I'll get one," said Harry helpfully. He poured her a drink from the pitcher by the basin. Hermione stopped hyperventilating.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry said. "It's five o'clock. We've got a prefects' meeting."

"Good heavens, yes. We've got to go. C'mon Harry. Parvati, Lavender, Thanks. "See you later." Hermione said, sprinting down the stairs.

"Give our regards to Drek-o " shouted the twins.

End of Part One

Part Two --Deliberate Mayhem

Summary: The twins grab the idea and run with it, Hermione frets, McGonagall sings, Snape freaks. PG-13 for language.

Harry and Hermione raced down the seven flights of stairs from Gryffindor Tower and sped across the Great Hall, ignoring the phantom raindrops dripping from the stormy sky above. They reached the door behind the teacher's table and slunk into the chamber beyond, well aware that they were already late. The figures in the portraits that lined the walls frowned at them in disapproval. The usual group of people was sitting at the long table set up in the center of the room: the other prefects, the Head Boy and Girl, and the four faculty heads of houses. Dumbledore would be in London for another week.

"Thought you would join us?" Professor Snape sneered.

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. She'd be in trouble if she started laughing. She covered her mouth with her hand, faked a cough and brought her hand down to reveal a reasonably straight face. Harry gave her a puzzled look.

"I believe I have the floor, Severus," said Professor McGonagall, who was standing. "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, please take your seats. Five points from Gryffindor."

There were only two seats open at the table. One was next to Cho Chang and the other one was next to Draco Malfoy. Hermione saw Harry start for the seat next to Cho and shot him pleading look. With a reluctant nod, Harry walked around the table and seated himself by Malfoy. Hermione slid gratefully into the seat next to Cho.

"As I was about to say," McGonagall continued, "Professor Dumbledore wants the school to operate as normally as possible during the coming week. Therefore I am sure you will all be pleased to know that, as the seventh year students will have completed their N.E.W.Ts as of this coming Tuesday, Hogwarts will, as is our custom, be celebrating with the usual, er, high spirits."

Professor McGonagall's mouth was compressed into its thinnest line. She looked about as happy as she had when she'd announced the Yule Ball to her Transfiguration Class last year.

"As you may know, the exact date of the celebration is traditionally kept secret from the student body as a whole, however, as you Prefects are responsible to a certain extent for security at Hogwarts, I may inform you in confidence that the seventh years have picked this coming Friday for the traditional entertainments. The seventh years will therefore be excused from attending classes on that day, and I am sure the rest of us will be delighted with the er, festivities."

"Excellent!" said tiny Professor Flitwick, so excited that, as usual, he tumbled off the cushions he was seated on and had to be helped back into his chair by the Head Girl.

"What's going on?" Hermione whispered to Cho.

"Pranking's Day on Friday, " Cho whispered back.

Professor McGonagall continued.

"Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you all that no dangerous creatures are to be brought into the Castle, and that students are responsible for returning all school property to its original state once the activities are completed. The dress code will be in effect. The rules concerning magic in the corridors will be relaxed, however, it is the responsibility of all those in this room to make sure that no person suffers undue injury. I remind you all of the Ministry of Magic regulations concerning non-consensual enchantments. I count on all of you to make sure that no one embarrasses the School in any way."

McGonagall swept her eyes around the table, looking particularly hard at the representatives of Slytherin and Gryffindor. Even Draco Malfoy shrank a bit under her beady gaze.

"Are there any questions?" McGonagall asked.

Hermione briefly considered asking for the return of the Time Turner she'd had during her third year. She would have given a lot to go back and undo the last hour or so. Her year had double potions on Friday with the Slytherins and that meant--. She didn't even want to think about what that meant.

"Happy prankings day to you, too, " muttered Malfoy in his slow drawl as they all filed out after the meeting. It was almost time for dinner and the Great Hall was starting to fill. "You'd think we were expecting an invasion of Death Eaters. Now that would be amusing, wouldn't it?"

"I don’t think Professor McGonagall caught your remark, Malfoy, " Hermione said from behind him. "Care to speak up a little?"

"Shut up, Mudblood. It's your Weasley friends she's really worried about. Once they've finished trashing the place, there probably won't be much left for the Dark Lord to do."

"Get splinched, Malfoy!" she hissed. Harry pulled her away.

"I thought we were ignoring him," he said. "He's not worth losing our badges over. Right?" He was quoting her, which Hermione found rather annoying. As prefects, they had been keeping an uneasy, unspoken truce with Malfoy, ever since they'd come back from the summer holidays. They'd gotten into a lot of trouble for cursing Malfoy on the train, and weren't anxious to get in any more of it.

"I know. The trouble is, I think he might be right this time. Fred and George could do a lot of damage."

"You think?" Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling behind his round glasses. "I've been looking forward to this. We've missed it four years in a row. Either it's been cancelled due to emergencies or one of us has been in the Hospital Wing.

"Mind you, we have done well on our own. Fred and George never put a live dragon on top of the astronomy tower. Or set Snape on fire!"

"SSSShhhh! " Hermione smothered a terrified giggle.

"Are you still laughing?" Ron asked, coming up to them. "What's up?"

"Um," said Hermione.

"We could tell you," said Harry, "but then we'd have to curse you."

"Right," Ron said. "You lot coming to eat with the peasants, or are you dining with the upper crust?"

"Oh, honestly Ron, you know what happens if we sit at Gryffindor. Everyone gets on their best behavior. Except Fred and George. I hate taking points from them."

"And that's worse, is it, than sitting at the Prefect's table with a bunch of Slytherins that won't speak to you?"

"She speaks to them," said Harry, "She just told Malfoy to get splinched!"

"I did," said Hermione, rather proudly.

"What did he do about it?" Ron wondered.

"Nothing, yet. Of course I'll probably find snakes in my bed on -- well, one of these days."

"A good thing you Prefects can't take points from each other, or Ravenclaw 'd be a sure bet for the House Cup."

"There she is!" It was Fred and George. They rushed up and knelt at Hermione's feet.

"All hail the Princess of Prankdom!" they shouted.

"Stop it!" Hermione snorted, half-flattered, half-terrified.

"We just want to forgive you."

"For every point you've snatched from us this year."

"You're going to get me in trouble!" Hermione protested. People were turning to look at them.

'What, us? Get a girl in trouble?"

"Weasley! Both of you!" That was Professor McGonagall’s voice. "Get on your feet."

"Yes, Professor," the Twins chorused, getting up.

"If someone doesn't tell me what's going on," said Harry. "I'm going to explode."

"Oh don't do that" said George. "Filch will have a fit if he has to clean messy little Harry bits off the ceiling in here."

"All I want to know is, why all of a sudden Hermione thinks Snape is funny. "

"I don't," said Hermione. "He isn't!"

"And that would explain why you went into a coughing fit every time he opened his mouth at the meeting."

"I did not!"

"You did!"

"Did you?" Ron asked.

"This is wonderful," said George. "Do we leave our two young heroes in suspense, or do we tell them?"

"You take Harry, I'll take Ron." The twins separated and began whispering into Ron's and Harry's ears.

"Oh, honestly!" Hermione wailed. She sat down at the Gryffindor table and dropped her head into her hands.

Fred and George sat down on either side of her.

"You going to look at us, or do we need to set off a dung bomb under your nose?"

"It's going to be all over the school. Snape'll kill me."

"No!" said Fred. "He'll annihilate you. But it's all right. You'll be reborn."

"I'd rather be reborn right now. As a Muggle. In Australia! "

"Take it easy, Hermione!" Fred put in. "I mean, it's not like there's anything to it."

"Right, nobody'll think it's you."

"Cause you don't have hazel hair."

"Or honey eyes."

"Nice combination, though"

Hermione looked up finally, to see how Harry and Ron were taking it. They had sat down, and were filling their plates for all they were worth. Ron's ears were noticeably pink.

"Don't worry," said Fred. " Lavender and Parvati won't talk. We've glued their lips together with Hagrid's treacle fudge."

"Actually we've put them under a Subrosa spell of silence. There won't be a word to anyone else. Not before Friday. And then--"

"Showtime!"

"I really wish you wouldn't. Whatever you're planning, he won't take it well."

"That," said George, "is the whole idea."

"You," said Ron, "look like MacNair was coming to execute you. Something wrong?" It was Sunday afternoon and the Gryffindor common room was almost empty. The weather had turned fine again after a long rainy stretch, and even the swots had taken their studying outside.

"Can you ask? I'm two more days banned from the Library, and your brothers are plotting to ruin my life!" Hermione nodded toward Fred and George, who were sitting at the other end of the room with their heads together as usual.

"Prefects are fair game. But don't worry, they’re plotting to ruin Snape's life, not yours. Face it, Hermione, he's doomed." Ron grinned.

"But --," Hermione opened her mouth and shut it again. She lowered her voice. "I don’t think it's a good idea to go baiting him."

"What do you want to be worrying about him for? He never worries about whether it’s a good idea for him to be baiting us. And what are you going to do about it anyway, you can't confiscate an idea, Hermione."

"The whole thing's just snowballing. Snape and I went past each other in the hall this morning and Lavender and Parvati started making kissy noises! "

"That's sick. I'd confiscate their brains if I were you. No, wait, they haven't any."

"You're not being very helpful," Hermione told him.

"I told you. There's nothing you can do. And it serves you right, reading that rubbishy stuff. Too bad you didn't confiscate that, Your Prefectness."

"And since when is it any business of yours what I read?" asked Hermione hotly. "You're just annoyed because I had to turn your fanged Frisbee in to Filch."

"Oh yeah? If you weren't wearing that badge--"

"What about my badge?"

"Oh, never mind."

"This is ridiculous. I'm going to the Li- I'm going to see Hagrid!" Hermione got up and stalked out of the Common Room. Honestly, Ron was being impossible these days. It would have been easier to have a civil conversation with Malfoy.

"I dunno," said George. "She's getting a mite upset. I think we should back off."

"No, " Fred told him. "It's going to work perfectly. Just like we planned."

"It could backfire, you know. Big time."

"Don't think so. This is Hermione we're talking about. You couldn't pay her to do anything rash."

"Suppose she goes to Snape though?"

"Oh, she won't. I mean, what's she going to say?"

Fred put on a ridiculously high-pitched trembling voice. "Professor, I have a confession to make. Even though we come from different worlds, and you don't really like me very much, I --I --I feel strangely attracted to you!" Fred threw himself on George, who shoved him onto the floor.

"That's sick," said Ron.

"There yeh are." Hagrid put a plateful of rock cakes and a mug of steaming hot tea in front of Hermione. Hagrid's huge boarhound Fang came over and slobbered on her knee.

Hermione politely took a cake and nibbled gingerly at the corner of it. It would be sadly ironic if one of her magically corrected front teeth got chipped.

Silence settled over the table. Hermione sipped at her tea.

"Summat on yer mind?" Hagrid asked, finally.

"Hagrid," Hermione said slowly, "I've created a monster."

"Never!" Hagrid's huge face lit up with enthusiasm. "Wha' sort is 'e?"

"No, not like that," Hermione said, laughing despite herself. "It's more, um, metaphorical."

"Don' know much about them metaphoricals. What er they like?"

"Hagrid! Don't try to make me think you don't know what a metaphor is."

"S'posin' I do know... that don' explain why yer sittin' here lookin' like yeh got bit by one."

"Well..." Hermione's voice trailed off. If only she'd had an older sister, that might have been the ideal person to talk things over with. Too bad the Head Girl had to be Slytherin. But Hagrid had taught care of magical creatures for several terms now, and he'd managed to discuss the mating habits of hippogriffs without giving offense or losing control of the class, and, considering the mating habits of hippogriffs, that was an accomplishment.

"Well," said Hermione again, and in one long ungrammatical sentence she spilled out the whole story of page 87 and the memorex charm.

"And Fred and George know what I did, and they're going to--oh, who knows what they're going to do. All I know is, I'm going to have to go through two more years of Potions after they've done it. And if Snape finds out it was my idea..."

"Yeh'll be in a right pickle."

"Literally."

"What do yeh think they're goin' ter do?"

"Make him read it, I guess."

"Nah, can' do that. Yeh want somebody teh act against their nature, yeh'd need ter use an Unforgivable Curse. Fred an' George wouldn' do that."

"I can think of a dozen ways, Hagrid." She sighed. "What am I going to do?"

Hagrid's beetle black eyes crinkled. "Yeh've got yerself in a right state, Hermione. Got the world on yer shoulders, like me Dad used ter say. "

"You don't think I should just ignore it, do you?"

"I dunno, Fred and George've been workin' on all this a long time now. I wouldn't want teh be the one teh spoil it for 'em."

"Well, I suppose I can always hope Neville's cauldron blows up, before anything happens."

"Not plannin' to give it some help, are yeh?"

" Hagrid! I am not going to sabotage Neville's cauldron!"

Surely by Friday, she would think of something cleverer than that. But Thursday evening came, and she hadn't.

Hermione knew it was hopeless to try and talk them out of it. The twins would only be more determined. Though no one but the prefects and the seventh years knew for sure that Prankings Day would be tomorrow, everyone could tell that preparations were being made. Odd sounds and odors filtered out from the seventh year rooms, including what smelled like petrol and was probably bubotuber pus.

The talk of the Gryffindor Common Room was pranks: ancient, modern and legendary. Opinions were divided as to whether any seventh year Slytherins had actually succeeded in smuggling snakes into McGonagall's bed. The caution about the school dress code doubtless referred to the time someone had managed to turn the taps in the girl's shower into Portkeys. It was certain that Professor Flitwick's charms cupboard had once been jinxed so that the contents all tumbled out and bombarded him when it was opened. Fortunately Madame Pomfrey had been able to remove the extra nose. The Gryffindor class of 1990 had suspended the words "Snape is a greasy slimeball" in twelve foot red and gold flashing letters above the castle, which effect had of course been mimicked by the ceiling in the Great Hall. That prank had earned them all a suspension, not least because some Muggles had spotted the message and reported it to the BBC.

Hermione awoke to the characteristically rude sound of dungbombs going off all over the castle. She looked out her window and saw a shadow moving over the grounds. She looked up in time to see what looked very much like a blue Ford Anglia vanishing behind a turret, accompanied by maniacal laughter from the Twins. Well, that explained the smell. It wasn't bubotuber pus after all. The Weasley's must've got hold of some actual petrol and used it to tame the car.

The Gryffindors had Transfiguration followed by double potions on Friday. As the Gryffindor fifth years worked on turning a hawk into a handsaw, a tremendous clattering sounded from the hall. Professor McGonagall's sternest look couldn't keep her class from rushing into the corridor. Several suits of armor had linked themselves into a kick line and were dancing past, singing. McGonagall's mouth became very thin indeed as she heard her own voice echoing from the helmeted heads:

He may be a tiny chimney sweep, but he's got an enormous---

"Tacitus" she ordered sternly. The dancing armor froze, silent, for about half a moment, then launched into a spirited rendition of "Slytherins are Sexier" in four voices that all sounded remarkably like Snape's. McGonagall and Hermione exchanged long-suffering looks, and somehow managed to get the class back to work, not helped by Harry and Ron, who seemed to think it was all hysterical.

Hermione hadn't deliberately missed a class since the day she'd walked out of Divination as a third year, and wouldn't have done so for anything less than an invasion of Death Eaters. She was almost wishing for one as the door to the Potions classroom opened and Snape beckoned them inside. He looked even grimmer than usual. No doubt the dancing armor had come past.

Harry had taken to sitting in front, whether because he trusted Snape more than before, or because he didn't, and Ron had reluctantly joined him. Neville parked himself at the rear as usual, and Hermione set up in the row in front of him. She noted that Parvati was sitting by Pansy Parkinson and Lavender was near Millicent Bulstrode. Draco Malfoy was by Pansy as usual, and this, Hermione discovered, was a problem when trying to keep an eye on Parvati, because Malfoy seemed to think she was looking at him. So did Pansy, who began to look almost as sour as Snape. Hermione set a small phial of dragon's blood at the end of her table. Whatever Snape had them working on today, it was a good bet that adding a few drops of dragon's blood to it would have spectacularly catastrophic results. She just hoped that wouldn't be necessary.

It was ten minutes from the final bell. Snape was swooping around, collecting papers, people were starting to clean up, and, as Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson handed in their class work, Hermione saw Parvati flash Lavender a swift grin and a thumbs up. Uh oh, Hermione thought.

"Hermione!" Neville piped up behind her. "Look, I think my potion worked!"

Hermione looked. Neville's cauldron was filled with a glistening liquid, which did indeed look like a perfect example of Glittering Goo.

"Oh, Neville," said Hermione. "How -- how wonderful."

Neville beamed. Hermione turned away. Of all the times for Neville to get something right. She couldn't bear to ruin it for him.

Snape had returned to the front of the room with the class work, and was leafing through it.

"Outstanding work, Miss Bulstrode...Mr. Zambini...I believe Miss Parkinson has given us an excellent summary of the uses of the Suggestability Solution. May I read it to the class?"

Pansy simpered. "Of course, sir"

"Here it comes." Lavender whispered.

Hermione turned her body so as to hide her cauldron from the Slytherins, and picked up the bottle of dragon's blood. A couple of drops ought to do it.

"Hermione!" Neville squealed. "What on earth are you doing?" He reached clumsily to stop her, knocking into her arm. The open bottle slipped from her grasp, fell to the table and, as Hermione watched in horror, it rolled to the edge and the entire contents drained into her cauldron with a splash.

Her potion began to fizz ominously.

"Duck!" yelled Neville. The class, having learned from experience, dived under their desks as one, fumbling for their wands and chanting shielding spells.

There was a deafening bang which seemed to echo through the entire castle and a cloud of sulphurous smelling yellowish green gas erupted from Hermione's cauldron and enveloped the classroom.

Shit! Hermione thought. Snape was chanting a containment spell, which also seemed to be echoing strangely.

Hermione's cauldron exploded.

She heard another fizzing sound. Neville's cauldron. Oh no, not a chain reaction. There were more bangs, more smoke.

"Hermione!" Harry yelled over the noise. "We have to help! You too, Malfoy!"

Hermione stood up, her eyes stinging from the gas as she dropped her personal protection in order to cast containment spells.

There was a loud pop, and Hermione felt the stinging sensation disappear. There were shoving sounds as the students emerged from under their desks. The gas was gone.

The classroom looked as if fifty mudbombs had gone off in it at once. Twenty cauldrons worth of glittering goo had changed into a black, sticky tar like substance which had fountained up to the ceiling and was now dripping down. She and Snape and Harry and Malfoy were all spattered with it, along with all the desks, tables, bags, books and what was left of the cauldrons. The classroom could not have looked worse if it had been the site of a Cornish Pixie Convention. Snape was beyond fury. He advanced on Hermione, his black eyes glittering.

It was Neville, of all people, who spoke up.

"Please, sir. It wasn't her fault. It was mine--"

"SILENCE!" Snape yelled.

"Has any one been hurt?"

There was silence for a moment. Hermione held her breath. That gas had been nasty stuff. If any one had breathed it...but it seemed no one had. The containment spells had worked, at least.

"Good. Miss Granger," Snape began, "You have succeeded in endangering not only yourself but--"

"It was an accident, sir." Hermione squeaked.

"DON"T INTERRUPT ME!"

" I have a hard time believing in accidents, Miss Granger, where you and your confederates are concerned." He gestured with his wand, and Hermione flinched, but all he said was, "Accio!" and the phial, its glass etched, milky and partly eaten away, emerged from the smoking ruins of Hermione's cauldron.

"And what have we here? Dragon's blood perhaps?"

Hermione was silent.

"Very well. Weasley, Potter and Longbottom will stay behind and clean up this mess. Miss Granger, we will discuss your reckless behavior in my office directly. Class dismissed."

Malfoy left looking as if Christmas had come early.

Lavender and Parvati swept out without looking at Hermione.

Harry looked quite bewildered, Ron only looked stunned.

Feeling worse than she ever had in her life, Hermione followed Snape back into his office. Nasty things in jars lined the stone walls. At this moment she would gladly have traded places with any of them.

"Sit!" Snape ordered.

She sank into the chair opposite his desk, wishing she could continue right through it and vanish beneath the floor.

Snape remained standing. He folded his arms and glared down at her.

"Miss Granger you know what is at stake here. I want an explanation of what just happened and I want it now."

Hermione swallowed. "With respect, sir, if you are going to interview me, I should like Professor McGonagall to be present."

"As you wish. I shall see if she is available."

Scowling, Snape turned to the fire and cast a handful of summoning powder into it. "Minerva? A word, if you please."

Professor McGonagall emerged from the fireplace a moment later, brushing soot from her robes."

"Ah, Severus, I was just on my way. There seems to have been a disturbance."

"There has indeed. Miss Granger has engaged in act of sabotage resulting in the release of a cloud of toxic gasses which endangered everyone in her class, including Harry Potter. "

" Were any students injured?"

"They were not. I was able cast a containment spell and banish the cloud before it caused any harm."

"I am relieved. I will inform the Headmaster and recommend that you receive a commendation for your swift action in an emergency.

"Thank you, Minerva" Snape smirked smugly. Hermione had never wanted to kick him so much. "However, I am still I am still waiting to hear an explanation of Miss Granger's actions. I do not say they were deliberate. She may have been confunded or even subjected to the Imperius curse."

"Erm," said Hermione. Now she knew how Harry felt when he said his brain was jammed.

"Severus, " said Professor McGonagall. " I have just come from the staff room. It appears that someone tampered with the amplificus charms which enable us to address the student body in an emergency. The explosion and your subsequent actions were heard through out the school. It is clear that someone was expecting a disturbance to take place."

"I see. Not an accident, then. Miss Granger? I am still waiting to hear from you."

"Pansy Parkinson's parchment," she whispered. "You were going to read it."

"Miss Parkinson's parchment? This has something to do with Miss Parkinson's parchment?"

Snape pulled it out. "It appears to be quite normal. Is it carrying a hex? I think not. Now--"

"Severus, I should like to examine it please."

Professor McGonagall took the piece of parchment and looked at it through her square rimmed glasses. She tapped it with her wand, and muttered several different incantations. The parchment remained quite unchanged.

"This," she said, "appears to be a potions assignment."

Snape frowned. "Miss Parkinson did a remarkably fine job of explaining the uses of the Suggestibility Solution. I was about to read it to the class."

"It's not... enchanted?" Hermione said, her voice almost a whimper.

"The joke, it would appear, is on you, Miss Granger. " He was almost gloating.

"But I thought...that Fre...that someone..." Hermione heard her voice trail away.

"To put it technically, Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall, " I think you've been snookered."

"But I..but--" she stammered.

"I don't believe this!" Hermione dropped her head into her hands. She'd blown up a classroom. She'd almost killed twenty-one people. She wondered what they did to people who were expelled knowing as much magic as she did. If they used a memory charm on her to make her forget it all, she'd probably be left with the intelligence quotient of a stunned flobberworm. She felt a roaring in her ears.

"You don't believe it?" said Snape softly. "You don't believe you could be made the tool of another's purpose? "

"Hoodwinked, in fact, by the members of your own noble Gryffindor House?"

Hermione raised her head cautiously. His tone was chilling. But it didn't quite sound as if she were about to be expelled.

"I still want to know what you were thinking." He bent his awful gaze on her. Hermione resolutely visualized the third unsolved problem in Arithmancy.

"We are not answerable for our thoughts, Severus, only for our actions."

It was Professor Dumbledore. Harry, Ron and Neville were with him, and so were Fred and George.

"Hats off to Princess Hermione!" The Twins shouted, and they actually took off their hats and bowed.

"You set me up!" Hermione yelled. " Someone might have been killed, I could've been EXPELLED..."

"Told you she'd be livid, " said George. "Don't blame me if we have to spend the rest of our lives buzzing around in a jar."

"Watch it," said Harry, warningly.

"I must say,” said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring this exchange, " I am pleased on the whole by the results of our little test. The warding spells have had a very severe workout. And they seem to have performed admirably. We remain vulnerable to errors of judgment of course." He shot a look at Hermione through his half moon spectacles.

"And now, as I am quite looking forward to the Prankings Day Feast, I suggest, Severus, that you pronounce Miss Granger's punishment, so we can get on with things. "

"One hundred points from Gryffindor. As for the feast, I fear Miss Granger and her friends will not be attending it. They will remain in my classroom while they clean up the mess they've made." Snape snarled. " And I am certain we have not heard the entire story of these events. I am inclined to think Miss Granger should be deprived of her library privileges until she has told us the truth."

"The truth?" said Dumbledore mildly. "Truth is a very perilous thing."

"Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall. "I am inclined to think Miss Granger is far safer in the library than she is dipping into Miss Brown's extensive collection of the works of Desiree Drinkwater."

"Yes indeed, " said Professor Dumbledore. "I must say our fictional alter egos at the Sablefield School appear to lead a rather more interesting life than we do, especially in matters of the heart--"

"Albus!" said Professor McGonagall warningly.

"Quite. One should be careful of what one reads," Professor Dumbledore remarked, his blue eyes twinkling, " and, of course, to whom one reads it."

In the end, Snape got his commendation, so he was happy...well, as happy as he ever gets. Lavender had to promise not to do any more Snape imitations. She said it made her throat hurt anyway.

And Hermione, well, Hermione figured out that whatever she said to Ron, it was always the wrong thing. It finally occurred to her to stop talking. Perhaps if she just shut up and looked deep into his eyes...It works in those silly books, she thought.

THE END