Pranking a Professor

Chapter Nine: Task Eight--Excess Enthusiasm

Hermione was more confident than ever, but a mix of emotions was swimming around in the brain beneath the bushy-haired head, as they usually were before a prank. When Professor Snape had confronted her three days ago, Hermione had never been more frightened, and yet, a very odd feeling had settled into her stomach. After she'd been pranked, Hermione found her fire reborn and surprised herself with such strong, vindictive feelings. Something inside her had been stirred and awakened, and for the life of her, Hermione couldn't figure out what it was. It intrigued her though; she was determined to sort her feelings all out.

Even if it meant getting herself suspended over it. But then she'd have license to kill Harry and Ron.

And maybe Fred and George.

Then again, perhaps she'd just kill herself and be done with it.

The trio had spent the weekend plotting how they were going to pull off the next task after doing Astronomy homework.

Hermione was appalled to realize that she'd fallen behind in most of her classes.

This in reality meant that she was only one week ahead of the syllabus instead of two.

So naturally, Hermione was pulling out her hair in frustration.

The Gryffindors would be no problem at all to convince to go along with the plan, but the Slytherins were quite another story indeed. Harry, however, seemingly had the solution as he surveyed his two best friends with a secretive smirk.

"Don't you two worry your little heads about how the Slytherins are going to cooperate," Harry cooed patronizingly, patting Ron and Hermione on the heads like dogs. Hermione was not the least bit amused. "I'll take care of it."

"Just like you took care of the Snape-singing charm?" she snapped.

The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Make-Her-Life-A-Living-Hell winked his suggestive wink. "No worries mates. Trust me."

Hermione glanced at the sharp quill pen in her hand and actually considered gauging out Harry's emerald eyes for that comment.

She trusted Harry about as far as she could throw a piano.

By the looks of things, Ron was as equally confused as she was, something that made Hermione feel quite unsettled.

Breakfast Tuesday morning was nothing short of absolutely bizarre. As she sat down with Ron and Harry, she chanced a tentative glance up at the Head Table, and her jaw nearly created a crater in the stone when it hit the floor.

Professor Snape and Professor Lupin were speaking to each other.

And there were no broken bones, no torn clothes or any other sign of destruction to be found.

The school seemed in one piece, actually.

So how was this possible?

Hermione took a seat, utterly floored, and continued to stare at the two men, along with several other curious peers and teachers. Though she wasn't close enough to the staff table to catch the finer details of the conversation, Hermione could see Professor Lupin offering a plate of hash browns to Snape, who took them willingly and thanked him. Snape met Hermione's eyes and raised a questioning eyebrow as if to say, 'I dare you...open your mouth and I'll hex you into next month'.

Hermione looked away quickly, trying to pretend it didn't bother her one bit that Professor Severus 'Spiteful' Snape was chatting up Professor Lupin.

Her eyes met Harry's, whose eyebrows were raised so high that his unruly hair masked them completely. When he opened his mouth to yell, she mouthed the words 'Not here!', signaling him not to make a scene. Harry took heed of the notion, but Ron didn't.

"What in the bloody hell...?" Ron trailed quietly, turning to face Hermione and erupting. "What's that all about?!"

Hermione closed her eyes in irritation.

So much for subtlety.

"I have no idea. Last week they were ready to kill each other! This is too weird," Harry mumbled, running a hand through his hair. Hermione wasn't surprised when his hand got tangled in it. "It's almost as if they're...conspiring against us or something."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You're paranoid Harry. Why does he always have to be out for evil? Maybe Professor Lupin just realized that Professor Snape can be a pleasant man at times." She shoved a forkful of eggs in her mouth.

Both boys stared at her blankly for several minutes. Ron was the first one to find his voice.

"Snape? Pleasant? Yes, and You-Know-Who's only a child throwing a temper-tantrum," Ron said in monotone.

"Ron," Hermione began, clasping her hands together and feigning patience, "his name is Voldemort."

Ron cringed. "Don't say his name!"

"Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort!"

"Hermione, what's with you?" Harry asked softly as Ron covered his ears and hummed, seemingly trying to find a happy, warm place. She didn't meet his eyes. Truth be told, she was afraid to. "You've been making little comments about him ever since last month. You just called him 'pleasant', and not three days ago, he threatened to expel you from Hogwarts."

"Paranoid and delirious," Hermione retorted loftily, after taking a sip of her pumpkin juice, evading the boys' accusations. "Rita Skeeter would have a field day. 'Harry Potter Finally Looses His Mind'. That would sell a million copies for the Daily Prophet."

Two pairs of eyes, half-draped by eyelids in a sarcastic stare told Hermione that she wasn't convincing anybody.

"All I'm saying," continued Hermione, choosing her words carefully, "is that there is some good in every human being. Snape just may be showing his good side for once."

"Good in every human being," Ron repeated uncertainly, folding his arms over his chest. "What about Umbridge?"

"Since when was Dolores Umbridge classified as human?" Harry pointed out.

Still, as she went on with breakfast, Hermione couldn't help think about Harry's words. What was with her? She'd noticed a change in herself as well, though she'd never let either of the boys know about it. It'd give them license to ridicule her for the rest of her life. But why had Snape become so...different to her as of late?

Hermione shrugged it off as much as she could before the bell rang. Slipping her bag on her shoulder, she followed Harry and Ron out of the Great Hall and made her way to Potions class, glancing back at the staff table and blinking when she saw Lupin and Snape shake hands and go their separate ways.

What in the world is going on?

"Listen up," Hermione said bossily, grabbing the attention of the Gryffindor students in the Potions lab quickly. Their respect for the Head Girl had grown considerably during the past few months. She glanced back nervously at the Potions door, waiting for the sign of billowing robes to grace the threshold.

"I need your help."

Hermione took a few moments to explain the situation to her fellow Gryffindors, who listened attentively and nodded their approval.

"Sure Hermione!"

"No problem."

Hermione sighed with relief. Maybe this one wasn't going to be so bad after all. Turning slightly in her seat, she looked over at Harry, who was perched on Draco's desk, speaking slowly and grinning widely. Draco looked, on the whole, very unimpressed, until Harry leaned in closer and whispered something to the platinum-blonde Slytherin. Draco Malfoy paled almost instantly, gave a reluctant, yet defeated nod, and turned back to address his troupe. Harry returned to the Gryffindor side with a delighted grin on his face.

"Okay Harry, how'd you do it?" implored Hermione. Harry gave a shrug even though pride was etched all over his face.

"I just threatened to inform his mates about the time I saw he and Oliver Wood together after a Quidditch match." Harry paused, dramatizing the scene out. "In the showers. Together."

Ron gagged, being equally dramatic, but Hermione had to smile. Giving one last look over at the Slytherins, who were heeding their leader's orders, she turned to the front of the class and waited for the arrival of Snape.

Despite any previous allegations made by Hermione that Professor Snape was finally 'showing his good side for once', this author can safely guarantee that any benevolence that the spiteful sorcerer was expressing to Professor Lupin had completely evaporated by the time he reached his seventh year Potions class. Truth be told, he was in a particularly snarky mood after grudgingly discussing...business with the werewolf.

So of course, it nearly gave him a coronary when Snape hadn't even put both feet in the classroom when a chorus of greetings met his ears.

"Good morning, Professor Snape!"

Snape's first suspicions lay at the foundation of the function of Hogwarts castle. That, of course, meant Albus Dumbledore, who should rightfully be sent to a mental institution instead of running a school full of the greatest wizarding minds in the world.

What had that crazy man done now? He and his sweets obsessions...that's it! Dumbledore had snuck some new muggle confection into the students' breakfasts, making them extra cheery and bright this morning. That had to be it. There was no other way to explain students being cheery in his classroom. It was unfathomable, impossible, utterly depraved.

After collecting his wits, Professor Snape tried his best to put on his Don't-Mess-With-Me-Or-I'll-Bottle-You face, and proceeded to teach the lesson. Smiling and oddly attentive, the students hung on every word Snape said and nearly every hand went in the air when he asked a question. Even the Slytherins were overly enthusiastic, something that simply did not happen to his house. Ever. He was baffled until nearly the end of the lesson, when his eyes fell upon the obvious answer. Snape berated himself for not seeing it before.

Hermione Granger.

Hermione bloody Granger.

Insufferable know-it-all! There were several reasons why Professor Snape couldn't stand Miss Granger, besides the obvious over-achieving attitude she'd bestowed upon him and charmed every other professor in Hogwarts with.

For one, the way she wrote up her assignments.

Yes, that irritated Snape to all ends!

The way her i's were dotted perfectly...abso-bloody-lutely PERFECTLY! The dots were precisely centered above the stem of the letter. Surely a person could mess up at least once in their lifetime! But no...not prim, perfect little Granger.

Snape chewed on the tip of his feathered quill--something he found actually helped his mental juices to get flowing--and sneaked a glance at the Gryffindor girl, who was busy at work. Ever since the beginning of the year, he couldn't help noticing subtle things about her that he didn't like. Snape's irritation was rooted far deeper than Granger's simple writing style. For example, the way she carried her books to classes.
Yes, that was a very good reason for annoyance!

Always in her right arm, propped against her side. One would think that the right arm would get tired after a while, but no...they were always held in her right arm! Snape thoroughly hated that.

As the bell rang to signal the end of another horrifying Potions lesson, Snape was appalled to hear a chorus of, "Goodbye, Professor Snape!" before the disgusting children exited his classroom. Resisting the urge to chuck his hourglass at a random student's head, the Potions Master kept his eyes burning into Hermione and on her way out, she shot him a distinct 'look'--one that matched the one he'd given her at breakfast--and said 'look' told Snape everything he needed to know. Even after he threatened her, she had continued along with her tricks.

Professor Snape watched her leave the classroom, and he noted that yet again, she had balanced her books in her right arm. Well, enough was enough. He'd had it.

Sighing resolutely, Professor Snape decided he'd go and see the Headmaster about this situation. Surely, he couldn't have been the only one who'd noticed perfect-i-dotting-right-hand-book-carrying-Hermione Granger's strange attitude as of late.

He sneered and cast murderous glances at students he passed along his trek. Snape truly was quite frightening, and even Lord Voldemort himself had nothing on Snape when he was in a 'mood'.

Dumbledore knew from the moment he arrived that Snape was in a 'mood'...again. "Severus, what a pleasure! Do have a seat."

Professor Snape stepped into Albus Dumbledore's cluttered office and took his place in the comfy chair that the elder wizard had conjured for him. He let out a surprised noise when he sunk several feet into the deep upholstery of the furniture.

"Lemon drop?" asked Dumbledore, offering a tin of the candies to Professor Snape.

"No thank you Headmaster," Snape declined as politely as possible. In a weak attempt to grasp onto his last strands of dignity, Professor Snape tried to pull himself upright once more, wrestling with the chair, something Dumbledore thought very amusing.

"I came to see you about Hermione Granger. She's been acting very odd lately--."

"Tea, Severus?" Dumbledore interjected softly, conjuring a teapot with no spout and offering it to Snape, who pursed his lips and clasped his hands together tightly.

Snape gave the headmaster a pointed look. "You know I only drink coffee, Headmaster."

Dumbledore wrinkled his nose. "And you break British tradition by doing so! Come now, tea's not that bad!"

"No, thank you Headmaster," repeated Snape, a little firmer this time, before continuing. "Miss Granger. In my class, I have noticed that she's been--."

"Biscuit?" Dumbledore inquired, holding out a shortbread cookie to Professor Snape after stuffing one into the mouth nearly masked completely his beard.

Snape took a long, calming breath. One needed the patience of a saint when dealing with batty Albus Dumbledore, and a saint was the last thing that Snape was.

"No, thank you Headmaster. Now, Miss Granger seems to think it humorous to play little--."

"Rack of lamb, Severus?" Dumbledore, wearing a bemused smile, was now holding out a silver platter of succulent-looking sheep to Snape. Lord knows where that came from, probably the folds of his velvet robes.

The Potions Master's last strand of patience snapped.

"Albus Dumbledore, if you offer me one more thing, the Dark Lord won't find enough body parts of you left to--!"

"Yes Severus, I've noticed a change in Miss Granger's attitude as well," Dumbledore interrupted, heaving a sigh, "but she's most likely only letting out a lot of pent-up energy. You know how stressful studying for N.E.W.Ts can be. Has odd effects on our students, you know. She's not causing any serious havoc, so I think it's best to just leave her be. It's touching Severus, how much you worry for Miss Granger! It'll work itself out in time; don't concern yourself so!"

"Yes, Headmaster, but I really do think--."

"As a matter of fact..." The Headmaster leaned forward. "Forgive me, Severus, but I don't exactly comprehend why Hermione is annoying you so as of late. None of the other professors have come to me with problems. Perhaps it's you who's being rather moody."

Dumbledore consulted his lunar pocket watch and then glanced quickly at a calendar--which had a picture of a sickeningly sweet-looking puppy dog above the dates--on the wall behind him; both let him know that there was a full moon at the end of the week.

"Is it your time of the month again, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, raising an eyebrow. "Remus hasn't been his usual self today either..." The students hadn't been the only ones to notice Snape and Lupin's civil talk during breakfast.

Damn that man!

Snape opened and closed his mouth several times, amazingly speechless--which wouldn't really matter anyway, seeing as how the man never let Snape finish a sentence--and he narrowed his eyes at his boss's repulsive sense of humor.

He suddenly began to ponder exactly why he'd left Lord Voldemort's services to end up with...him. Torturing muggles and muggle-borns wasn't all that bad...hmm; perhaps there was still time to make things right with Voldemort.

If he was somehow able to trick Dumbledore into joining him at the next Death Eater rendezvous, maybe Snape could rid himself of the bizarre wizard by feeding him to Nagini...no, it'd never work out.

Banishing the incredulous thought from his brain, Snape stood up and nodded respectfully to his elder before turning on his heel and making to exit the office without another word.

"Oh, Severus?" called Headmaster Dumbledore.

Snape turned slowly and faced him once more, trying to remember his high blood-pressure problem as he coaxed himself to patience. "Yes sir?"

"Are you sure you wouldn't like a lemon drop?" asked Dumbledore, his brilliant blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses.

"Here's what I propose," Harry began to Ron and Hermione the following evening over dinner in the Great Hall. The trio was sitting very far away from the head table this evening, so their conversation went unnoticed...or so they thought. "The more I think about it, the more I don't like the idea of Lupin and Snape plotting against us. Even if he really has nothing to do with it, the little 'alliance' they have going on must be broken up."

Ron looked down at his glass of pumpkin juice with disdain. "This tastes awfully funny. Does yours taste any different tonight?" Hermione and Harry both shook their heads. Ron shrugged and went on.

"Anyway, it could have serious repercussions on us if we allow it to go on," he agreed with Harry. The female counterpart of the trio wondered how long it'd taken Ron to learn the word 'repercussions', let alone pronounce it without any trouble, considering the amount of brain cells that were present in his head.

She raised an eyebrow. "Us? Since when were you two performing any of--?"

"So," Harry said loudly, interrupting Hermione, "this next task should be something to get Lupin on Snape's bad side again."

"I wasn't aware Snape had a good side at all," Ron grumbled, handing the list to Hermione.

"True," Harry conceded, "but this one will really get up Snape's nose."

"You could fit a Quaffle up Snape's huge nose if you really wanted to."

Task # 9--Sit particularly close to the Staff Table at dinner one evening and tell loud stories to younger Hogwarts students about Neville's famous boggart.

Duration--One meal time. Preferably dinner, since it's longer.

Hermione folded her arms over her chest and readjusted her position on the bench. "Perfect. This one, you two can help me with."

"Must we?" Ron asked in an adorable manner that made Hermione roll her eyes. "Too frightened to handle this one on your own? It's only Snape, Hermione, remember?"

The red-headed young wizard omitted a girlish scream and jumped into Harry's lap when, with a quick flick of her wand, Hermione changed the empty bowl next to him into a giant spider.

"Looks as though things are heating up," the accomplice muttered, taking a sip of pumpkin juice and motioning down the long row of the Gryffindor table to the conniving trio that was the bane of his associate's existence.

The associate gave a grunt of approval as he scooped a forkful of roast beef, shoved it into his mouth, and bit down on the dining apparel a little harder than he meant to, bending it slightly. He narrowed his eyes at Professor Dumbledore.

"We can sneak in easily. I know the password. How about right after they leave for Hogsmeade?" the accomplice prompted.

"The sooner, the better," the associate complied, remembering that he knew one-hundred and eleven ways to poison his boss.

And those were just the peaceful ways.

Smiling a rare, happy smile, the associate continued to enjoy a meal with the accomplice.