Professor, there's a fly in my potion

He could see her now...coming ever closer...holding out her arms to him! She was so beautiful and he-

-woke up.

It wasn't so bad to wake up in class after you'd been sleeping. It wasn't so bad to be embarrassed when everyone laughed at you. It wasn't so bad to get a detention from the teacher. And it wouldn't have been so bad for Neville at all if he hadn't found himself in a cold, dark room with his head near a cauldron. And even Neville knew what this meant. His eyes adjusted to the dark and he was aware of a shape in front of him. He slowly brought his head up, inch by inch, until the robes became a neck and then a face full of some strong emotion. It wasn't a happy one.

OH, no.

No one moved. Not even the Slytherins snickered.

No one. No one had EVER fallen asleep in Snape's class before, everyone in the room thought. The Slytherins added, and lived, for good measure.

"Mr. Longbottom," the voice was strangely not a voice at all. It was so icy it was unreal.

Neville's heart stopped for a second and he willed himself to believe that this did not just happen to him. He was NOT in Snape's class. He was only having a nightmare...

He pinched himself.

"Mr. Longbottom," the voice said again.

Neville's eyes struggled as they tried not to bulge. He pinched himself again in case it hadn't worked the first time.

"I see you've had a jolly little nap. In my class."

Neville couldn't understand why this wasn't working. He seemed to be asleep still. Pinch.

"I am so disappointed that you couldn't have done this yesterday."

Neville's eyes gave up and widened in horror and relief at the same time. Yesterday had been poisons day. Oh, not just any kind...the lethal kind.

PINCH!

"So, boy," Neville straightened up and braced himself as he refused to meet Snape’s eye, "have you anything to say?"

Neville looked frantically at the other students who suddenly seemed very interested in their potions. Neville stared at his dully. He knew he was in deep trouble. And he got mad.

"Professor, there's a fly in my potion!"

Snape's face twitched as his ears picked up something he couldn’t possibly have heard.

"What?" he asked in surprise. “Did you speak, Mr. Longbottom?”

"I said, you vulture-hat-wearing-transvestite, that there's a FLY in my potion!" Neville screamed.

Snape's face flushed with anger. The class watched breathlessly. Some covered their eyes. Snape opened his mouth...and he-

-laughed?

He was! He-he was laughing. He was waving his arms around helplessly as tears rolled down his cheeks. Neville couldn't tell if he was outraged or just having an uncontrollable laughing attack.

Several potions bottles dropped to the floor as Snape threw himself, guffawing, onto several tables. The stunned students recovered. Soon everyone else began to chuckle quietly. Then they laughed politely. Then they were all imitating Snape, rolling on the floor. Neville smiled. He'd done something right. He'd-

"Mr. Longbottom!!!"

Oh, gods...

Talk about a déjà vu...

He'd just woken up in Snape's class. He didn't know what was worse...that he'd just dreamed about Snape, or that he was now living his dream.

It was extremely silent in the room. Neville felt his heart stop beating. He looked wildly around. When his voice came, it was in a tiny, shrill squeak.

"Professor, there's a fly in my potion...?"