Hermione Granger, Super Hero

     'What a mess,' Hermione thought as she set her bag on the desk. It was about ten minutes before Potions class and Neville had managed to spill ingredients already. She had just walked in with Harry and Ron when she noticed the muddle of ingredients on Neville's table.

     Professor Snape was standing over Neville, being his intimidating self. Neville was doing the cowering, brow-beaten thing.

     "Here we are not even in session Mr. Longbottom, and you have already made a mockery of this class. If you have no interest in comporting yourself with any kind of coordination perhaps you should find something else to do with your time." The last sentence rose in volume halfway through until he was shouting.

     Hermione sighed, gave her friends a pained look and walked to Neville's desk.

     "I'll help you take care..."

     "You will not, Miss Granger..."

     Harry had just walked up to the group and decided to put in his two knuts.

     "I believe that you, Professor, pointed out that class is not in session," he said and walked to his seat.

     Professor Snape glared at his back. "Twenty points from Gryffindor."

     Hermione just blew out her breath and smiled at Neville.

     Neville whispered, "That's twenty on top of the ten he took off of me."

     "Don't worry, I'll make it up in Transfigurations," she said and winked.

     Neville managed a nervous smile and reached further under the desk to get a large piece of something and said, "If I didn't need this class for Auror training..."

     "I know," Hermione replied. She leaned closer to Neville to reach a vial when Professor Snape's voice boomed again.

     "You have two minutes to clean up that mess before class begins!"

     Neville shot up, which was a bad idea, as he was still under the table. He banged his head on the underside and knocked more potion ingredients off.

     Hermione, unable to jump away in time, was covered in whatever they were supposed to prepare in class today. Her eyes crossed slightly and she felt slightly woozy but was able to stand up. Seemingly, Neville was worse for wear as he was unconscious under the table.

     Snape opened his mouth to roar, but Hermione raised her hand.

     "Please, Professor, don't shout. My head..."

     Snape stopped mid-breath and surveyed the shambled Hermione.

     Students began filing in and Snape motioned to Dean and said, "Get Madam Pomfrey."

     Dean nodded and exited.

     "For now, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, get Longbottom out from underneath the desk. Put on your dragon-hide gloves; Merlin knows what that mish mash of ingredients has produced." He turned to Hermione. "You, Miss Granger, what has Longbottom inflicted upon you?"

     Hermione shook her head which seemed to clear her vision.

     "I'm fine, Professor."

     "You can't possibly be. I'll see that Madam Pomfrey runs the appropriate..."

     Her temper flared, "I am quite capable of discerning whether or not I am fine. And I'm fine!" She stalked out of the dungeon leaving a quite shocked group of classmates.

     Snape rounded on Harry and Ron. "When you see Granger again tell her she has detention with Filch for the next two days."

     Ron and Harry exchanged glances and leaned Neville against the desk.

     Hermione barely had time to stagger into the ladies' loo before wretching the contents of her stomch onto the floor. She staggered a bit and then leaned against a sink. While reaching to turn on the faucet a shock of pain ran through her body. Hermione fell to the floor, unable to move, as the surge of agony shot from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

     "Oh... My... God," she gasped and managed to roll from her stomach to her back. "What's happening..."

     Hermione's body contorted wildly under her robes. Muscles bulged and shrank, limbs lengthened and retracted. The smell of the toilet overwhelmed her and she choked back bile. Her eyes focused and unfocused. There was a hideous ringing in her ears that turned slowly to voices.

     Before her senses could fluctuate anymore Hermione's body did the only sensible thing it could think of and passed out.

     Not much later, she opened her eyes and lifted her head slowly from the floor. All pain had receded. She couldn't feel so much as a twinge. More moments passed as she moved her limbs to make sure they were where they were supposed to be.

     Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. She'd walked out of the beginning of Potions class. She had no idea what time it was. Bolting upright and straightening her robes she dashed for the door.

     The Potions classroom was mercifully empty as she snuck in to retrieve her bag. She noted the time and ran to find an outer door.

     Hermione had just caught up with Ron and Harry outside the castle, on their way to Herbology. It was an extremely cold winter day. She pulled her cloak tighter as she moved into step with her friends.

     Ron cast her a sidelong glance when she looked at him.

     "What?" she asked, catching the devilish grin.

     "What she says..." Harry shook his head. "You told off a Professor. Not just any Professor, but the evilest, foulest, greasiest..."

     "I get it." She smiled a bit and blew a snowflake away from her nose. "And he's not as bad as all that. You really need to..."

     Harry cast his own sidelong glance.

     "I know. You don't want to hear it."

     "Oh, by the way," Ron piped in, "you have detention with Filch for the next two days."

     "What?" Hermione's eyes opened a bit wider.

     "That's what he said, only two days. You have a greasy admirer..." Ron almost sang the last bit.

     "Ron."

     "Yes?"

     "Shut it." Hermione pulled her satchel farther up her shoulder and stalked off.

     Harry turned to Ron.

     "You'd think she was offended," Harry smirked.

     "You'd think she fancied him," Ron replied.

     They both laughed and sped up, so as not to be late.

     They were in Greenhouse 5. Hermione had already settled in at the first table by Professor Sprout's desk. Knowing, of course, that no matter how much they liked, or didn't dislike, a teacher, they'd never sit that close to one.

     She gave them an impatient look and set out her gloves.

     Professor Sprout pointed out the large, vine like bit of flora sitting in front of each student.

     "This is a flowering Grandula Maculatus. The specimens you have before you are the infant stage of this magical plant. As you can see it is only two or so feet wide and about the same height. In its adulthood it can reach sizes between fifteen and eighteen feet of height and spread out in width to documented sizes of up to twenty feet. As babies they are quite docile, a little stroke on the tendrils will calm them. Adult plants, however, will attack anything they see as a threat. Which includes us, I'm afraid."

     The class gave a low "ohhh" of appreciation.

     "They have several magical properties. Chief of which, when dried, powdered and added to the appropriate potion its own magical growth..."

     Hermione zoned out a bit. She didn't feel too bad about it as she had noted this plant in her syllabus and read about it last night. Her meandering thoughts were cut off when she noticed a sly movement from the corner of her eye. She paid full attention and noticed Draco Malfoy leaning closer to Neville's plant, a vial of blue substance in his hand. As if his humiliation in Potions wasn't enough, Malfoy planned to disgrace Neville in his favorite and best class.

     "Neville!" Hermione shouted, but it was too late. The nasty Slytherin had tipped the vile vial into the pot of Neville's Maculatus.

     It began growing at an alarming rate. Tendrils soon became thick as small tree trunks and flowers burst from the ends. It would have been an amazing show had Neville not been trapped against the wall behind.

     Professor Sprout sprang up and pulled her wand. Her curses were in vain. What she had failed to add earlier, because these plants were babies, was that full-grown Grandula Maculati were so magical that they resisted all but the most powerful spells. And those had to be chanted in concert by several witches and wizards. Her attempt, though, had been instinctual. She opened her mouth to shout for a student to bring help when something fairly amazing happened.

     Hermione didn't even think. She felt an adrenaline rush, a sudden burst of strength, and jumped out of her seat and into the fray. She tore at the dense foliage that surrounded Neville. The huge plant, nearly as large as Professor Sprout had described and bursting through the ceiling of the greenhouse, was writhing in what seemed to be pain as Hermione drilled a hole to where the helpless Neville was enclosed.

     Reaching him, she tossed him out of danger and proceeded to make for the plants roots. A note should be made that he had his wand out and had been attempting to hex the damn thing, not knowing that his spells were useless. But returning to our girl.

     Surprisingly, she had the presence of mind to grab Neville's forgotten trowel and start bashing at the plant's roots. Once she'd severed the body of the plant from the lower portion it stopped writhing. Hermione dug herself out and dusted of bits of Grandula Maculatus while her stunned classmates stared in shock. She recovered herself enough to realise what she'd done and how she'd done it. She couldn't manage to think of anything intelligent to say in response to the faces, especially Neville's.

     "I think I got it, Professor."

     Sprout sputtered a bit and then sat down in her chair.

     "Yes, Miss Granger, I imagine you did."