Potions Homework

Potions Homework

4. Incident Number Two

Not much could inspire the vigor with which Ron and Harry were racing through the halls of Hogwarts. There was only the threat of being late to Potions and the possibility of losing their lives [which, considering, amounted to much the same thing] that could rouse such haste. However, they were adding another item to their list: concern over Hermione's well-being after being left alone with an unknown person in the Astronomy Tower for over an hour! All thoughts of Hermione being a self-sufficient sixteen-year-old girl at the top of their class who could more than take care of herself went flying out of their heads as they sprinted up the stairs and down the corridors. They were being concerned [if overprotective] friends--it was their job to be neurotic and imagine the worst scenarios. [In that way, they remind me of my mom...]

What could she be thinking, disappearing to meet some random bloke? wondered Harry somewhat desperately. She knew better than that! While Voldemort had been undoubtedly defeated last year, the wizarding was still dealing with the repercussions of his death. The Ministry had fallen apart amidst corrupted officials and Imperious Curses, and while the majority of the Death Eaters had been either killed in battle or sent to Azkaban, there were still cunning traitors and clever liars who had slipped from the grasp of justice. The danger was not over. The struggling Ministry could barely manage to Obliviate the Muggles who had accidentally witnessed the final showdown, much less concentrate on protecting the Muggle-born witches and wizards still targeted by the escapees.

Of course, Hogwarts was still the safest place in England to be, as Albus Dumbledore still presided as Headmaster, and it was unlikely that anyone with an association to the Dark side had managed to get past all the wards and Dumbledore's keen eye, but Harry wasn't being rational as he flew down the hall towards the Astronomy Tower. And if he wasn't, it was safe to say that his red-haired, quick-tempered best friend wasn't either.

"Blithering...idiot," Ron gasped out angrily, his blue eyes flashing with concerned ire. "Bloody mental...running...off like... No brains..." He seemed to consider his last statement as he rounded a corner and ran towards a cross-hall. "No common sense," he amended just as he careened headlong into seemingly nothing and stumbled to the ground with a decided lack of grace.

Harry, going too fast to stop on this sudden note, toppled over him with a yelp. "What-?" he cried, his elbow meeting the stone ground painfully. His glasses slid down his nose and he struggled for breath, trying to clamber off Ron. Shoving his glasses back up, he muttered a curse [and quite inventive it was, with broomsticks and wands playing a starring role] and glared at his friend. "What the hell was that?" he demanded.

Ron wasn't paying any attention. His hands were wrapped around thin air and he was peering intently into space. Oh blimey, thought Harry, he didn't land on his head, did he? His concerns were proved unfounded as Ron said incredulously, "Hermione?"

Finally understanding--she had taken his Invisibility Cloak, after all!--Harry kneeled down beside Ron and squinted at the air. "Is that you, Hermione?"

A moment of silence and, "Yeah." Hermione sounded breathless, explained possibly by her crash into Ron. The hood of the cloak fell back, revealing Hermione's head, her curly brown locks more unruly than usual. Cheeks flushed, eyes bright, and a dazed expression on her face, her head floated above nothingness, similar to the way Harry had accidentally revealed himself to Draco third-year at Hogsmeade.

"Are you okay?" "What the bloody hell were you doing?" "Who was there?" "Why did you go?"

A chorus of questions, or rather, demands, spilled out of Harry and Ron's mouths. Ron continued grasping Hermione's invisible arms, as if to prevent her from running off again.

Shaking her head at the bombardment of words, Hermione replied quickly, "There was no one there. It was a prank..." She trailed off and eyed her friends nervously. "How did you know I was at the Astronomy Tower?"

"Lavender told us about your owl." Ron scowled. "A love poem? A joke? This isn't bloody funny!"

Harry was more serious. "He's right, Hermione," he said softly. "You know you're still in danger...don't put yourself into situations that might end up with us attending your funeral."

"Well aren't you the cheerful bunch?" snapped Hermione. She wrenched herself from Ron's hold and stood, sweeping the hood back over her face. Her voice echoed clearly, "Nothing happened. No one saw me. Don't worry." Her footsteps fell softly as she left them.

Ron stared after her, his face still red from his outburst. "Ungrateful chit," he grumbled. "See how much concern I show next time she disappears." But his eyes were still trained in her direction worriedly.

~

Snape had meant to call Draco Malfoy into his office before classes started that day. Unfortunately, the boy seemed nowhere to be found, and none of his Slytherin mates had any idea where he was. This put the Head of Slytherin house in a bad mood. This mood was worsened by the fact that he had another class of Gryffindors and Slytherins that day. Not Double, at least, but it still irked him to have to deal with those bloody dunderheaded Gryffindors for two consecutive days.

Fortunately, he wouldn't have them until late morning, right before lunch. So Snape spent the morning reorganizing his potions, disarranged by that idiot Weasley's spellcasting the day before, and took the opportunity to update his files as well. When he was finished, he considered calling Draco from his first class that morning, Arithmancy, he believed, but Dumbledore had cautioned him against letting the other professors know of Draco's condition. While they (i.e., Snape and Dumbledore) knew that the Amoura Potion had been administered accidentally [Madam Pomfrey's tests had proven that he was under the influence], the use of it was still illegal and it would be in the best interest of all involved if only Dumbledore and Snape were aware of it. Draco himself didn't need to know; all Snape had to do was convince his favorite pupil to drink the antidote and all would be well.

A quarter of an hour later, Snape stood behind the podium in his Potions classroom. "We will be learning how to make the Polyjuice Potion today," he told the class in his usual cold tones. "Last class, you attempted to make the Trijuice Potion, a simpler form of the Polyjuice Potion consisting of only three ingredients. Likewise, it is less powerful and can only transform inanimate objects into other inanimate objects." He swept the students with a gaze, narrowing as they passed over the dream team and widening in slight alarm when he caught Draco peering over Goyle's shoulder at Hermione.

The expression on his face...

That couldn't be longing Snape saw on Malfoy's face, could it? His prized student longing for...for know-it-all Granger, whose superior position in class statuses alone made it impossible for a Malfoy to want, much less a Mudblood? Lucius would have an apoplexy. What in Camelot had possessed Draco to--

The Amoura Potion...

Snape had to get Draco the antidote, immediately. He snapped out the instructions for the potion, not bothering to review the origins and use. If any of these witless students had done the homework he'd assigned them, they'd already know. Snape had a policy of never being redundant--repeating information he expected his students to know was of a useless nature. So he assigned the class the same partners they had had previously and strode, robes flapping, to Weasley and Draco's cauldron.

"You'll have to excuse Mr. Malfoy for a moment, Mr. Weasley. I presume you'll be able to add the correct ingredients to the potion without assistance or am I overestimating your abilities?" This mocking phrase was accompanied with a cruel sneer and before Ron could reply furiously [and the flush of anger staining his cheeks was indicating that he was about to do just that] Snape beckoned to Draco and turned, walking away. Draco followed obediently.

Unfortunately, Snape was too concerned about the effect of the love potion on Draco that he was completely oblivious that his path [directed towards his office, where the antidote was sitting in a goblet on his desk] ran right past Hermione Granger. He had reached the door to his office before he realized that Draco was no longer behind him--he was next to Hermione, talking quietly in her ear, a soft, inviting smile on his face.

Snape bit back his curses [nearly as impressive as Harry's] and stalked back towards the two. Harry, just noticing his archnemesis speaking with his best friend, advanced as well, trailed by a clenched-fist Ron.

Harry and Ron reached them first. "What do you want Malfoy?" Harry asked the pale, silver-haired boy bluntly. Open hostility glittered in his green eyes.

"Just to talk to Hermione. Bugger off, Potty."

Hermione bit her lip. Apparently, being in love with her hadn't changed his feelings toward her friends any. "Draco," she whispered.

Ron was furious. He shoved Draco in the chest, the shorter boy [at six feet, only two inches] stumbling backwards slightly. "What right do you think you have calling Hermione, 'Hermione'?" he snarled. "You bloody...half-brained...twit..." He struggled for words. "Arrogant git...inbred, thoughtless, blasted wanker."

"Real clever speech," returned Draco, face hard. "Eloquent, aren't you, Weasel?"

Hermione glanced beseechingly at him. "Draco," she repeated anxiously. She had gotten to know a different side of him last night, for beyond the absolutely brilliant snogs, they had shared their secrets with each other. Hermione wasn't certain why she had bared her soul to someone she'd despised for five straight years, but the sincerity in his voice had touched a part of her. She had exchanged her secrets, life story, dreams, goals, fears, and trust with him and had unwittingly given away a part of heart. No, she didn't love him. She could hardly do that in one night. But a part of her heart was with him, finally understanding that he was more than an arrogant, cruel, taunting boy who lived to make her life miserable. She realized she had pigeonholed him, dismissing him as an unfeeling minion of Evil, never bothering to delve below the façade. She realized she was as guilty of stereotyping him as a future Death Eater as he had been of stereotyping her as a know-it-all Mudblood. Her eyes had been opened at his tentative offer of friendship [and more] but though she didn't know what had brought around his change, she wasn't willing to risk her newfound friend.

"Draco." She tugged at the sleeve of his robe, her eyes silently asking him to leave off her friends.

He relented. "Sorry Potter, Weasley," he grunted. He turned from them and smiled down at Hermione. "Sorry for offending your friends," he whispered.

Her heart leaped. There was hope. He was as willing as she to work to make this--this whatever it was--work. "Apology accepted." She smiled back at him.

Their classmates, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, gaped at them in identical expressions of stunned disbelief. Neville even rubbed his eyes to make sure he was hallucinating.

Snape was likewise shocked. But he knew the reason behind Draco's kindness and was determined to strip him of that. "Draco," he demanded, forgoing all pretenses of schoolroom etiquette. "Mr. Malfoy" wouldn't be enough now. He needed that boy's attention and he needed it immediately.

Draco slowly dragged his eyes from Hermione's face to Snape. "Yes, Professor?"

"Come here. I have something to give you." Snape glared at him. He didn't like this new Draco Malfoy. "Now,"he ordered grimly.

"Yes, Professor," Draco reiterated with a complacent smile. His tone, however, suggested that he was merely indulging his favorite teacher on what appeared to be an ambiguous whim. "I'll be just a moment," he told Hermione, trailing his fingers swiftly across her cheek and leaving her, flushed and riddled with memories of last night, to follow Snape. As the two disappeared, the rest of the class returned to work on their Polyjuice Potions, albeit with more whispers and murmurs than usual.

A few minutes passed and neither professor nor student returned, and Hermione was casting anxious looks at the closed door leading to Snape's office. She shook her head and added the last ingredient to her potion--her proficiency explained by her previous experience with making the potion in her second year, though no one was aware of that except her, Harry, and Ron. Ignoring Goyle, who had been of absolutely no help, Hermione sat back on her stool and stirred the simmering brew.

"Hermione!"

Hermione turned to stare. Ginny was standing next to her, a note in hand. There was a grin on her freckled face. "Hi."

"What are you doing here?"

"Dumbledore sent me here with a message for Snape," answered the redhead dismissively. She peered over Hermione's shoulder at the cauldron. "What's that?"

"Polyjuice Potion."

"Oh! The one that will turn you into another person."

"How did you know that?"

Ginny grinned. "You're not the only person who can read, Hermione!" She glanced around and waved at her brother and Harry. "Have you seen Snape?"

Sighing, Hermione said, "He's in his office...talking to Draco."

"Draco? Draco. What happened to 'Mal--'" Ginny gasped, her eyes flying to Hermione's. "Don't tell me he was the one last night...?"

A small nod.

"Oh Hermione!" Ginny looked positively appalled. "You're joking! I hope you slapped his face!" Her fair skin was becoming splotched with the flush of anger. "The nerve of that git, writing that fake love poem! What a horrible joke!

"What makes you think it was a joke?" Hermione asked tightly, pursing her lips in suppressed anger.

Ginny's mouth dropped open. "Hermione?"

"Hmph." Hermione didn't say anything more and continued stirring her Polyjuice Potion. It said a lot that Ginny thought she was so unattractive that even Draco wouldn't consider her. Hermione blinked. But she couldn't blame the girl. The Malfoy Ginny had known had always called Hermione a Mudblood, and there had more of a chance of a snow day in hell than him ever writing her a love poem... "Look Gin, I'm sorry."

But Ginny looked preoccupied. Snape and Draco had just exited Snape's office, Snape with a satisfied look on his face and Draco with a scowl. He practically emanated fury, his gray eyes darkening to black and glittering with venom. He strode directly to Hermione, his intention to viciously lash into her with his verbal abuse apparent to everyone except the girl herself. She smiled shyly at him, causing a brief snort of disbelief, as he made his way to her.

"Malfoy." Ginny stopped him with a hand to his sleeve.

"Hey!" Pansy shoved her way next to Ginny. She gave the red-haired girl an angry glare. "Get your hands off Draco!"

Ginny looked annoyed. She pushed Pansy away and returned her narrowed eyes to Draco.

"Sod off, Weasley," he bit out.

Ron started off his seat. "Don't you dare talk to her like that," he growled protectively.

Harry stayed him with a hand on his shoulder, but joined in with the death glares at Draco. Ginny edged nervously towards them, backing away from Hermione and Draco's approaching form, past Goyle, standing next to his and Hermione's cauldron with a clueless look on his face [per the usual], finally ending up beside her brother.

"Draco?" Hermione uttered his name softly, confusion gleaming clearly in her brown eyes.

"Hermione." The name came out of his lips mockingly. He stepped up to her stool, until only inches separated them. Her head tilted as she gazed up at him.

"You had your fun with me this past day, didn't you?" he asked, his tone deliberately soft and threatening. "You had fun having a Malfoy dangle from your filthy little finger, didn't you, Mudblood?"

Hermione gasped. "Dra--" She swallowed and then slowly shook her head. "Malfoy," she whispered, horror dawning in her eyes. It had been a prank. It had all been a bloody prank, just as Ginny had supposed. He didn't really care for her...all those secrets, all those stories about his home, his family, his life...they'd probably all been bloody lies. "You--you unbelievable bastard!" she cried.

"Ms. Granger!" Snape's cold voice interrupted this little drama. "That will be enough. We have a class. Five points from Gryffindor for disrupting the learning processes of fellow students."

He was ignored as Draco leant forward and grasped Hermione's wrist, jerking her forward. He glared down at her. "You had your fun, Granger. Now let me have mine." Whirling, he whipped out his wand and pointed it in the direction of Snape's office. "Accio Amoura Potion!" A bottle of sloshing lavender liquid with heart-shaped bubbles flew into his hands. Wrapping his long, pale fingers around the neck, Draco turned and cocked a brow at Hermione.

"Open wide," he coaxed tauntingly. With a quick movement, he twisted the stopper out and lifted the bottle towards her mouth.

"NO! Hermione!" Ginny, the first to realize his intention, dashed from Ron's side, her wand drawn. She tripped over Goyle, standing in the way uselessly, and almost landed face-first in the cauldron of Hermione's bubbling Polyjuice Potion. She heaved herself up, and in a single blink, all memory of seeing hairs floating in the brew, vanished.

"Draco!" Pansy gasped in horror. He couldn't possibly be trying to make that Mudblood fall in love with him, could he?

"Stop this insanity," bellowed Snape, his wand also raised.

"Malfoy, you arsehole!" Ron shouted, drawing out his wand.

Lavender shrieked and ducked under the table.

"Ron! Don't!" Harry tried to stop his friend from a repeat of yesterday's class. Unheedingly, Ron pitched his Potions book at the Slytherin's head.

Draco ducked. "Weasley!" he yelled. "You meddling little prat." He shoved the bottle to Hermione's lips. "Drink it," he ordered tersely, his free hand pointing his wand at her threateningly.

Hermione kicked him. "Bastard," she hissed. "I hate you." But she shouldn't have opened her mouth at all, for Draco took the opportunity to tilt the contents of the bottle toward her lips.

"Potionia Replacatum!" yelled Ginny. Sparkles shot from the tip of her wand and wound itself around the Amoura Potion and the closest potion at hand--Hermione's Polyjuice Potion. Instantaneously, the two swapped places and it was a silvery liquid that spilled into Hermione's mouth, rather than a lavender one.

A shocked silence filled the room. Relief, from the Gryffindors, that Hermione hadn't been forced to swallow the Amoura Potion, and Annoyance, from the Slytherins, that they wouldn't get to see Miss Know-It-All trailing after Draco like a lost puppy.

Snape glowered at the class. "Twenty points from both houses," he snapped. He couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. Unbelievable. "You know better than to try to use an illegal potion, Mr. Malfoy. Your father would not be pleased to see you sent to Azkaban, I'm sure." Then he glared at the Gryffindors. "And you, Granger, Weasley, if I ever see such a scene again, I'll have you both expelled. Ms. Brown, do not ever let me hear that disgustingly shrill scream of yours, it nearly took my hearing. And Longbottom, I see you've upset your cauldron. May I presume you won't be getting your potion correct--again?" He eyed the half-finished Polyjuice Potion Neville had knocked off the table in his nervousness. "Pathetic," he commented contemptuously. His flicked his gaze to Ginny, breathing hard, hair mussed, freckles standing out in stark relief against her pale skin.

"Another Weasley. What in Salazar's name do you want, Ms. Weasley?" he asked coldly. "If I recall correctly, you no more belong in this class than your equally incompetent brother."

Ron's fists tightened.

"I came to give you a note from Professor Dumbledore, sir." Ginny's response was flagrantly defiant. She handed him the missive, crumpled from her fists.

Snape took it with a scowl and unfolded it.

"Hermione!" Harry's gasp echoed through the silent room. While everyone else had been watching Snape's tirade, Harry's eyes had been drawn automatically to his friend. She had staggered off her stool and was clutching her sides, doubled over in what could only be described as [if the expression on her face could be interpreted correctly] agony.

Snape's head immediately snapped in her direction. He stared at her. "The Polyjuice Potion," he muttered. His brow furrowed. "There should be no change--there was nothing in the potion." He swept the students with a suspicious glare. "Was there?"

Silence was his only answer.