Truth or Dare

Chapter 2: Catastrophe

Hermione did not want to get up at all, but she had already failed to react to the first clamoring of feet and idle gossip in the corridors, and she had narrowly missed being caught by two love birds a year younger than she, slipping into the room. Their lips seemed under a Lip Locker Curse, though the tongues interfered more and more as Hermione watched. When the boy began pulling up the girl's robes and sliding his hand underneath while she stroked and pulled between his legs, Hermione quickly cast a spell of the illusion of teachers' voices. The couple froze, the boy dropped the skirt of her robes, and the distanced themselves at arm length. As the pseudo-voices came closer, the two ran out, looking more rumpled than they would have liked. But Hermione got through it.

She could not miss another class without concerning a party she did not want to include in her predicament. Besides, she did not desire to give Malfoy the satisfaction of her skipping. So she Summoned her supplies, took a breath mint and a deep breath, and went to Potions.

"We are having--thank you, Miss Granger, for gracing us with your presence, ten points off--We are having a simple lesson today, since you have shown yourselves to be incapable of brewing even an Inside-Out Solution. Today, we shall discuss such banned potions that weren't banned for their dangerous properties, but for their profound results that people tend to take too lightly, such as the Rejuvenation Draft, the Enhancement Potion, the Love Potion..."

Snape was interrupted by Seamus' sniggering, Parvati's and Lavender's and Pansy's giggling, and Draco's nudging Blaise and looking pointedly at Hermione. Blaise shrugged Draco off.

"I'm sorry, I must have mistakenly scheduled a nursery school class today rather than advanced Potions Mastery. If anyone finds an Enhancement or Love Potion a joking matter, they can join my first year classes and leave." He waited. "Nobody? Then we'll continue."

Hermione had never noticed just how tall and broad-shouldered and intimidating Snape was. When he leaned against his desk as he typically did when lecturing rather than supervising, he crossed his legs at the ankles. It may have been the way his trousers were tailored, but his legs looked longer than Hermione would have originally guessed. She caught herself where her eyes had accidentally wandered and brought her attention back to his unlovely face.

She was supposed to seduce this?

He knew what he was talking about, Snape did. He rattled off the negative effects of the Rejuvenation Draft like he was reciting the alphabet.

"Its properties are closer to the Resurrection Draft, the unicorn of potions, and a forbidden one we'll discuss in more detail on a later date. It is infinitely easier than the Resurrection Draft to brew, but most mistakenly believe its purpose is to bring back the dead. Though it will raise the drinker from the grave, the person is not resurrected. Resurrection makes the subject exactly like he was before dying--which is rendered useless if the resurrected has died of old age or terminal illnesses, incidentally. Rejuvenation, however, takes the parts and makes them work again. Everything is there, but it lacks something essential to humanity. One might call it a soul. Rejuvenated people are not pleasant to be around. A short time after rejuvenation, you'll find the rejuvenated in their graves again, not entirely by natural or accidental causes. It is the misconception of its purpose that has banned a potentially useful potion. There are not a few maimed people who die waiting through all the bureaucracy to authorize the potion's use.

"The Enhancement Potion, in its own right, should not be banned. It is near impossible to make, the subtlest mistake resulting in impotency. If the finished product's coloring is even a shade off, the potion is a failure. When it does not work, it is as harmless as water. But there are a few gifted ones with the talent to brew this potion perfectly. They sell for stratospheric fortunes, but there is quite an underground interest in this potion, and so many deaths have resulted from its mere creation that it has been banned.

"Not only is its rarity dangerous, but it does not work as people expect them to. The subject expects to become ravishingly beautiful or sinfully handsome, but instead, the best features are accentuated and their bad features become more manageable. It is quite effective in cosmetic transformation, but it only works with what it has; it cannot transfigure."

Blaise raised her hand. "Just out of curiosity, sir, you said it takes great talent to brew the Enhancement Potion. Can you make it?"

She had sincerely voiced the derisive question in everyone's mind, but only Blaise could ever get away with such bluntness. Snape knew her apathetic character enough to judge when she was really just indifferently curious.

"I don't know," Snape said shortly. "I've never tried it."

"We can tell," Ron whispered to Harry. "It would take more than one Enhancement Potion to make him good-looking."

"I heard that, Mr. Weasley. Fifteen points from Gryffindor." Snape had somehow gone from the front of the room to behind Ron, next to Hermione. Hermione tensed, but Snape, after delivering his sentence, returned to his desk.

"Now, Love Potions... again, a remarkably easy potion to brew. The problem is the result, which I shall discuss as we make them right now. They are not fatal when misbrewed, so I'll permit it."

Hermione protested, "But you said they were banned...."

"Five points for questioning me, Miss Granger." He thrust a Ministry of Magic permission parchment at her. "Since I must prove my motives pure for my own students. Love Potions are simple to dispose of, Miss Granger, and you will be carefully monitored. Any other time, an alarm would go off in the Headmaster's and my office, so do not attempt to brew this again outside of class."

"Now, Love Potions, most inaccurately named. Those insane enough to make one are as imbued with lust as they intend their object of affection to lust for them after the potion. Only such thoughts would yield such a rash decision. But I'm a teacher, I must not judge," he said scornfully.

"The core of a Love Potion is chocolate, not anything you'll find at any sweet shop. You have to make it yourself; I've made it for you. It's on the corner of your desk. It has to be pure, no additives or preservatives or special spices. Pure, it is more aphrodisiatic than what you normally eat. Please do not slip some into your purse, Miss Parkinson, I only have so much. The core is magnified through the brewing process, causing the recipient to fall into a violent passion for the first person they see. Their first priority until an antidote is found is to fornicate with that most fortunate object of their affection. Accidents have been made. There was once a lady who had an amorous affair with a mannequin. Another woman fell in love with her house cat. Some of the politician scandals have been attributed to illegal Love Potion activity. It can also be used as a weapon. Auror Moody has had no less than twenty sent to him in his lifetime. It is perhaps the most chaotic and most restricted potion in existence, more so than even poisons or death draughts. All because of abandoned sense and raging hormones. Please complete your potions at this time."

Things went smoothly until the bottling. Oddly enough, this was the first potion Neville had completed perfectly and painlessly. Everyone, including Neville, was astonished. Snape simply looked down at the dark red, bubbling potion, raised his eyebrows, and continued on his student survey. He barely looked at Hermione's, which was an exact replica of Neville's. But...

"Finnegan!" he bellowed. "One would think that if Longbottom could concoct it correctly, the potion would be idiot proof. But you've made yours entirely too strong. Look at it! Bright red! Detention, Mr. Finnegan! This evening! Clean it up immediately!" Then Snape stalked to his desk.
Big mistake.

Hermione was scrubbing the bottom of her cauldron when a hand slipped between her upper thighs. She jumped, her Scouring Solution splashing out the sides. A pair of teeth nibbled roughly along her ear, followed by an enthusiastic tongue. Hermione supposed it was meant to soothe the bites, but it only succeeded in making her ear very wet. Lavender and Parvati began giggling furiously.

"Want to skive off Charms and borrow a broom closet?" the person whispered lustily into Hermione's ear. Another hand crept up her stomach.

"Seamus!" Hermione squeaked.

"Yeah," Seamus muttered against her chin, obviously vying for her lips, despite Hermione's frantic squirming.

"Harry, Ron!" Hermione yelled desperately, very aware how much farther up both of Seamus' hands seemed to be getting.

But it was neither Harry nor Ron, nor even Dean, who saved Hermione. A black-swathed arm swept unceremoniously around Seamus' waist, pulling him forcefully away.

"Should have seen that one coming. Watch yourself, Mr. Finnegan, I'm sure Miss Granger has enough to worry about without you stalking her. Finnegan, do you want me to shut you in my office?" Seamus was still struggling to touch Hermione's hair. "Apparently so."

Snape wrapped Seamus in a bear hug, pinning Seamus' arms. Seamus was thrown carelessly through the office door and locked in. When Snape turned, Hermione saw for the first time the truth of Draco's statement: Snape looked dead tired. But the weariness evaporated rapidly, and he glided back to his desk, predictably ignoring Hermione's mental welfare.

Most of the Slytherin side were in stitches. Hermione noted Blaise's token indifference. She was coolly stacking her cauldron in the storage closet.

"Hermione, are you all right?" Ron asked, unsurreptitiously repressing sniggers.

Hermione shrugged his hand off her shoulder, quickly dried her work area, stacked her cauldron in the closet, and made her exit.

~888~

Hermione was attempting to write a four foot length Arithmancy essay, but she was having trouble getting past the first inch.

The last twenty four hours had been filled with sex.

She did not remember the last time she had seriously thought about actually doing it. These days, Lavender and Parvati could not stop talking about it. They read magazines with sex stories, embarrassing sex moments, sex statistics, sex facts, and sex quizzes. They consumed cheap romance novels with the most ridiculous plots and most explicit sex scenes. They reminisced about their own sexual experiments. Hermione swore they once talked about how best to masturbate, but Hermione might have misunderstood that one. She mostly tried to tune them out.

She wondered how they would react to the Dare. Probably look scandalized, then giggle, Hermione thought sordidly.

Two days ago, would she think she'd be contemplating the seduction of the most hated professor at Hogwarts? A most emphatic 'no'.

Distantly, she reminded herself she did not even know how to kiss. She was expected to have sex with a Death Eater who probably had more experience than she in such matters. Not only have sex, but lead sex. And what would he want after that? Hermione cringed with horror at the thought of her own professor asking her to do that to him. Even the thought of her professor clothed and wanting to kiss her repulsed her so much, bile rose to the back of her throat.

A person coughed uncomfortably behind her.

Hermione jolted from her reverie and saw Seamus walking in front of her. She could not look directly at him. He seemed to be similarly afflicted.

"Er, I'd just like to say... well, Snape's given me an easy antidote... I, erm, only breathed in the fumes... and... er... my behavior..."

"It's all right, Seamus," Hermione said shiftily. It wasn't really, but she knew she could not blame Seamus for a mistake he had not meant to make.

"Well, erm, I guess... I'll, er, go..."

He left more quickly than if a Blast-Ended Skrewt had stung him in the backside. Hermione returned to her worries.

And dealing with Snape after she had... that would be even worse.

No, she told herself sharply. Worrying about it won't help, and this Arithmancy essay isn't going to write itself.

But she still could not concentrate.

She wished she could use a Love Potion, both on Snape and herself, and make everything so much easier, not to mention mutual.

How could Draco do this to her?

Of course he knew the mental anguish she must be going through. After all, he must be going through the same thing, she realized, remembering Draco's Dare with a slight smile on her face. She imagined an unhealthy-looking ferret bouncing up and down in the middle of the Great Hall, trying to kiss an irate Filch. The idea cheered her up. A little.