Pranking a Professor

Chapter Five: Task Four--The Underwear Dare

Hermione had to force herself not to put her newfound spell to good use before the next class with Snape. She doubted that Headmaster Dumbledore would be pleased with her if she went around, charming boys' trousers off. Besides, after all this was over, she was likely to be removed from her Head Girl duties anyway, why not make it later rather than sooner?

For the first time in their lives, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were actually excited about getting to Potions class. Wolfing down her breakfast in between quick conversation, Hermione noticed that Snape seemed rather reluctant to pick up his spoon this morning as he tossed her a wary glance every now and then. She giggled and swallowed her final bite, and following the boys, hurried down to the Dungeons for their lesson. They tried not to be suspicious, but when you arrive five minutes early and sit down immediately without a word and stare placidly at the chalkboard, somehow that seemed to send Snape a red light, signaling something terrible was about to happen to him. Which it was, of course. He studied the three of them as the rest of the students filed in quietly, unknowing that this was going to be one of the most amusing Potions classes they'd ever have.

He stared at Ron.

Ron stared back.

He stared at Harry.

Harry stared back.

He stared at Hermione.

Hermione stared back.

He blinked. They smiled simultaneously. Snape swallowed as the bell rang.

"A-all right," he stuttered, clearing his parched throat nervously, unsure of what to expect or how to handle it. The students didn't catch the wariness in his tone thank Merlin. Snape couldn't be caught with his usual manner not in check. It'd be an awkward situation that rivaled the time Professor McGonagall, in her Animagus form, had been caught strolling the moonlit corridors with Crookshanks, tail-in-tail.

"Since we didn't get around to testing your Veritaserums last time, today we shall...on their creators," Snape told the class, sounding more like his menacing self. He made sure he put emphasis on his final words, just to make the students squirm.

Neville shuddered as Snape's eyes fell on him, trying to look as small as possible.

"Come here Longbottom. You'll be the first victim."

Though in his seventh year, Neville Longbottom had never quite gotten over his fear of Snape. Hermione shook her head very gently and was unsure of who she thought was more ridiculous--Neville and his irrational fear or Snape and his desire to torment the boy. Both were rather petty, it seemed.

Poor, shaking Neville got out of his chair, trudged up to the front of the class, and took the small bottle of his potion Snape held. Bringing it to his lips, he drank it down slowly. Hermione took advantage of Snape's concentration on Neville to proceed with the prank. She grinned and pointed her wand at Snape while Ron and Harry watched her avidly.

"Acclaro pullatus subter!" she whispered, and the three waited to see the results.

"Longbottom, tell us your date of birth," Snape ordered, and Neville spoke the accurate date. A few of the Slytherins looked shocked. Nothing, however, happened with Hermione's spell. They waited for any kind of reaction, but Snape went through four questions to Neville--all of which he answered truthfully, surprisingly--before someone spoke up.

"Why isn't it working?" Harry demanded of Hermione urgently. She opened her mouth to answer, but stopped suddenly. The bottom half of Snape's robes and his trousers began to fade slowly, as if someone was draining them of the color. The black became lighter and lighter until the material completely disappeared. Snape stood there in his high-necked shirt and a now waist-length robe...and all was revealed.

Harry fell on his desk and buried his face in his hands, as if he'd just seen Voldemort riding a unicycle in a Speedo. Ron tried fairly hard to muffle his laughter before he exploded and great shrieks of amusement erupted from him, and the entire class stared at him. Hermione blinked and raised her eyebrows, staring at the results of her spell.

I should've read the spell description more carefully, Hermione thought, because, apparently, the incantation was for EVERYTHING the person was wearing from torso and below, for she'd charmed the underwear off of him as well. Professor Severus Snape, Mr. Sarcasm himself, now stood in front of his seventh year class with all exposed.

"Mr. Weasley, may I inquire as to what is so humorous you feel to disrupt my class?" Snape asked dangerously, his coal eyes glittering at Ron, who was as red as his hair. Ron opened his mouth to answer, but all that omitted was a squeak before he burst into laughter again. Harry was staring at the ceiling, apparently trying to blink back tears of horror. Hermione looked at him curiously before looking back at Snape, who muttered, "Five points from Gryffindor," before turning back to Neville.

The students of his class began to gradually perk up. Their once glasslike stares of usual boredom became more alive and they discovered what had happened to their mean-spirited teacher. There were several screams and cries of disbelief and many covered their eyes, but most simply broke out into deranged laughter. Draco Malfoy's eyes matched the size of a dinner plate. He gave a scream that could be compared to that of a five-year-old girl and ran out of the classroom, Crabbe and Goyle behind him, confused and blundering as usual, but ready to mimic whatever Malfoy Jr. did. Snape watched him run, obviously lost, but went back to interrogating Neville without a word. Hermione shook her head and leaning back in her chair, gazed around the classroom to see what her peers thought, and looked anywhere but the object of attention.

"Well, who'd have guessed...Snape for god sakes," Lavender commented to Parvati, mentally measuring him. She spoke with the air of someone discussing the weather.

"I know. With one that size, I could get over that terribly oily hair of his," she replied approvingly to her best friend with a curt nod. Snape had stopped again and was looking at his class with obvious confusion and irritation.

"Professor!" Millicent Bullstrode cried with her pudgy hands on her cheeks, clearly impressed with his package, loosening the tie around her plump neck for breathing purposes. Harry picked his head up off the desk and stared at Millicent, who resembled Dudley in a black wig, and fell back upon his desk, muttering a language Hermione recognized as Parseltongue.

Pansy, however, looked not the slightest bit amused, even though she'd taken time to analyze him carefully as well. "I knew it all along," she told Blaise Zabini, obviously pretending that she didn't see him covering his eyes. "You know what they say about men with big noses."

Hermione took another glance at Snape and found she was somewhat disgusted. Still, she couldn't help agree with the previous comments. He would make one great experie--oh hell. That's it Hermione, you've cracked. It was then that she joined Harry and buried her face in her hands, pulling mental images from her thoughts.

Mistaking his classmate's laughter for teasing, pitiful Neville turned as crimson as blood and looked down at his shoes sheepishly, or tried to anyway. He caught sight of something...else... and fainted dead away, causing the class to finally release all of their muffled snorts into insane howls and roars of laughter. Hermione was the only one not laughing. After sitting up, she'd pulled out her wand and was waving it around discreetly, trying to give Snape the message while not directly looking at him.

"No foolish wand-waving Professor!" Dean cried weakly, catching sight of Hermione waving her wand before going into a fit of laughter at his own private joke. However, everyone seemed to understand it because they also laughed even harder, tears leaking out of their shining eyes. Yes, everyone but Snape, who looked at Hermione oddly, as if trying to read something in her eyes. She only smiled and waved her wand some more, a silvery mist coming from the tip. He looked confused at first, but then a thought...a terrible, life-altering thought entered his head as Hermione glanced down at the lower regions of his pale body.

Snape followed her gaze down...and he saw. He was dreaming, yes, that's what it was. He, Severus Snape, the most feared teacher in the entire school wasn't naked from waist down in front of his class, full of Gryffindors and Slytherins, and mostly, that nasty little Potter. He had a flashback of one particularly horrific memory, in which Potter's father had almost achieved the situation he was in now, and he realized that he was reliving is worst nightmare, only magnified by one thousand. All respect the students had for him had flown out the window like an owl delivering the mail. Of course, it's not like they had too much for him to begin with.

Snape thought about screaming, but decided against it. The Potions Master had never been so humiliated in his 38 years of wandering the polluted, child-infested planet. His sallow skin went completely white and then bright red, causing the students more amusement. He quickly pulled his now short robes down in a feeble attempt to cover his...wand. It wasn't working in the least. In fact, it was quite the contrary. This desperate action caused the pupils to laugh even harder.

"Out," he croaked hoarsely to the laughing students, looking near tears. "Everyone out!"

Every single student in the class gathered their things and dashed out in the same attitude they'd been in the classroom. Once out of the dungeons, Hermione, Harry, and Ron joined their classmates, all in hysterical laughter, they perhaps more than everyone else.

That humorous event swept across the school like wildfire and by dinner, there wasn't a first year, teacher, or anyone in between that didn't hear of the happening the Seventh Year Potions class that morning. Snape was absent at both lunch and dinner, but who could blame him?

In the common room after dinner, the trio was planning to map out their next step. Parvati, Lavender, and Ginny were discussing the situation that morning. Apparently, Ron's little sister had been no exception to the Hogwarts gossip.

"Yes, and it was this big!" Lavender squealed, holding her hands the approximate length. She wasn't exaggerating.

Ginny gasped. "You're joking! That's almost the size of a Nimbus Two Thousand!"

"It's the truth!" Parvati cried. "I wish Colin had been there with his camera. Think a Nimbus and Quaffles. Bloody amazing."

Ginny sat back on the couch and sighed dreamily. "I've always loved a big Easter basket on my bunny."

"Ron, either close your mouth or put your foot in it," Hermione ordered, never taking her eyes off the list she and Harry were gazing at. Ron, however, sat in the armchair listening to what his little sister was saying. His mouth was open so wide you could've shoved an owl inside.

Harry smiled and tapped his finger on the paper. Hermione gazed down at the one he was pointing at as the three previously gossiping girls made their way upstairs to go to bed.

Task #5: Fall asleep in class. If someone wakes you up, mumble loudly, "Severus, come back to bed..."

Duration: One Potions Lesson

"Are you out of your mind?!" Hermione yelled to Harry, but with not as much vigor as the previous task. Ron laughed, his mind completely off of his sister.

"Oh come on, Hermione. It's much easier than the last one!"

"How the hell do you figure?! I have to pretend I was dreaming about Snape, in my bed?! At least the underwear thing--."

"Or lack thereof," Harry interrupted. Hermione glared at him.

"--Was anonymous! Drive Snape insane I understand, but ruin my reputation? What if people start actually believing I have...DREAMS about Snape?!"

"They won't Hermione. After all of the things that have happened already, I think it's safe to say that only the most incompetent students in our class will actually believe you do dream about Snape, which means Crabbe and Goyle. I think they understand what's going on," Harry explained truthfully.

"Even though, after the way all the girls were staring at him today, who'd blame you for dreaming about him?" Ron joked. Hermione had a sudden idea of luring him into the Forbidden Forest and leaving him there for Aragog's snack.

"Ron...don't play with me now. I'm not in the mood," she snarled, which startled the boys. She looked like she'd start breathing fire any second now. A vision of Umbridge float into Harry's memory.

Regaining a serious attitude, Ron stated, "It'll work out Hermione. Trust us."

"I don't. If you want to have such a good time, why don't you two try these things?" she asked angrily. Harry made a face and Ron chuckled,

"Somehow, I think that if I did task 5, it'd have a whole different effect on both Snape and the class."

Hermione sighed. "Come on Hermione," Harry encouraged. "It's our last year...let's go out with a bang!"

"Bang..." Hermione thought aloud. "Bang. Because I'm dreaming of Snape in my bed. I get it," she replied in monotone.

"The few coming up we'll help you on. They're going to require more than one person," Harry explained mysteriously. Hermione could almost taste the foreshadowing.

"Sure you'll help me...right off the Astronomy tower you'll help me," Hermione muttered, mentally calculating how many points Gryffindor would be below zero by the end of the year.