Every Rose Has Its Thorns

"Erm, what did you say I was supposed to add?" Ron asked quietly across the table, staring uncertainly at the concoction bubbling angrily in his cauldron.

"Asphodol, Ron, asphodol. Honestly, where is your mind this afternoon?" Hermione whispered back as she began adding asphodol to her own cauldron of ingredients, which immediately turned a bright yellow.

"I don't recall allowing chit-chat during my tests, Weasley. Or were you simply talking to yourself again?" Snape bit out the words as he walked by Ron's cauldron, eyeing its contents scathingly. "I see you've performed adequately so far. We shall see about the final product. Perhaps we ought to test the Shrinking Potion on your nose. Maybe then it will resemble the organ the human race uses to smell." The teacher turned away, long robes swishing, and walked off to pester poor Neville Longbottom, whose potion was currently Barbie pink.

Ron blushed deep crimson from the tip of his slightly elongated nose to the roots of his hair. Hermione, however, continued watching Snape thoughtfully as she added the next ingredient, octopus powder, to her potion, which hissed and frothed in response.

"Look here, everyone, Mister Malfoy has successfully completed his test first," Snape said triumphantly, casting a snippy glance at Hermione. "I believe this calls for, oh, let's say ... twenty points to Slytherin for his excellent potion making abilities."

Malfoy simply glared around the room with an air of superiority, his usual smirk set firmly in place. Ron practically had smoke billowing from his ears, and Harry appeared fairly calm, although his white-knuckled clenched fists and popping neck muscles told a completely different story.

Hermione raised her hand confidently.

"What is it now, Granger?" Snape asked impatiently.

"I've finished my potion, sir."

"What, would you like an award? Five points from Gryffindor for disrupting my test," Snape sneered as he walked back to his desk and marked down Gryffindor's loss of points.

Within three seconds Ron had shrunk to the size of a newborn baby. Two more seconds later, he could have passed for a deformed caterpillar. Hermione, sensing that no one (especially Snape) planned on doing anything about the situation until Ron was roughly the size of a pinhead, grabbed the strainer she had used for her potion and rushed over to Malfoy's cauldron. Her back turned to Snape, she quickly scooped up Ron, who coughed and spluttered his thanks.

"Potter, escort Weasley to the Hospital Wing," Snape said smoothly, as though nothing serious had happened. Harry, looking distraught, walked over to Hermione and plucked Ron out of her strainer, placing the shrunken boy carefully in his palm. Harry then sidled slowly out of the room, keeping his open palm very flat and very still.

"Class dismissed, and you may collect your cauldrons tomorrow after lunch. I will have graded your sad excuses for potions by then. Homework for next class - I want five feet on how Shrinking Potions can help better society. Granger, see me after," Snape added in a nasty tone as he began preparing his desk for the next class.

Hermione gathered her remaining ingredients, and then waited for the entire class to empty before she approached Snape's desk.

"You may inform Mister Weasley, Granger, that he is to return to this classroom after he has been ... ahem ... resized ... and clean up the mess he made on my floors," Snape said without looking up, for he was still reordering the numerous papers about his desk.

"Yes, sir. Anything else?" Hermione asked as she made a mental note to inform Ron of his horribly unfair punishment.

"Yes. You are to remove that rose from your hair, it looks ridiculous," spat Snape as he locked his cold eyes with Hermione's. But instead of the usual frightened, or frustrated, or even the occasional 'I'm-not-listening' look he was so used to receiving from his students, he was met with a ... almost a questioning in her brown eyes. Not questioning like she didn't know how to complete a task, for this was Hermione Granger, but questioning like she was trying to understand what made him, Snape, tick. Her eyes seemed to probe his very soul, and he found this very disconcerting - no one was supposed to be able to break through his masquerade as the evil Lord Voldemort servant, and Granger was dangerously close to doing so.

"Remove that rose and get out of my sight!" he repeated, his voice slightly raised.

Hermione turned lightly, removed the rose Harry had given her the night before from the end of her long plait, and was making her way for the exit door when Snape's voice stopped her.

"And Granger, next time you decide you have the right to pick flowers from the ground's bushes, put them in a vase of water instead. It keeps them healthier than hair," he said as he began grading papers, his quill making scratch scratch sounds as its fine tip was dragged across the parchment.

Hermione stood still in the doorway for a moment, processing his words, and she made her way back to Snape's desk. She gently placed the magicked rose on the edge of his steel desk before she left his classroom and made her way to lunch, a small smile upon her lips.

"How's Ron?" Hermione asked as she sat down next to Harry and began serving herself.

"Furious. Absolutely seething. But Madame Pomfrey said he should be fully re-engorged by tonight," Harry replied as he subconsciously pushed the serving platter of salami-and-cheese sandwiches, Hermione's favorite selection for lunch, nearer to his female friend.

Hermione glanced up at Harry before taking two sandwiches and moving them onto her own plate."You know me too well, Potter," she said with a grin, as she took a grateful bit of her first sandwich.

Harry smiled back and shrugged his shoulders, as if to say 'No big deal'. "So, are you going to watch us practice again tonight?"

"Only if you promise to give me another flying lesson afterwards," she responded. Ever since her very first flying lesson in first year, Hermione never could quite catch the hang of flying. Harry had begun helping her the previous summer, allowing her to fly on his precious Firebolt. Not that he didn't trust her - he trusted her completely. With everything.

"Great! I'll meet you in the common room at ...?" Hermione began, for she did not know when Harry's practice began.

"Half after 6. Practice is at seven, but that will give us time to find a new rose for you," he smiled, lifting the naked tip of her braid where the rose had been positioned only fifteen minutes before.

"Perfect. Meet you then. I've got to run and do some last-minute studying for that Transfiguration test!" Hermione said as she bolted down the rest of her sandwiches, grabbed her heavy pack, and made her usual beeline for the library.

Harry chuckled to himself as he watched his friend retreat from the Great Hall, and he then turned back to his own meal. He found himself looking forward to this particular practice more than usual.

"Oh, I can't believe it!"

At 6:25, Hermione walked down from the girls' dormitories to the Gryffindor common room to find that Ron had returned, fully grown, from the Hospital Wing.

"What's the matter, Ron?" she asked as she sat on the arm of the chair where Ron was seated, and removed the pillow he had hugged against his face.

"I just got back from taking McGonagall's test - she somehow managed to catch me just as I was leaving the Hospital Wing. Anyway, instead of turning the raccoon into an rabbit, I turned the bloody thing into a ... a ...," Ron moaned, and hugged the pillow against his face again.

"A what, Ron," Hermione asked in a comforting voice, completely removing the pillow from Ron's grasp.

"A ... a ... a stuffed rabbit!" Ron moaned, covering his face with his hands, since the pillow was out of reach.

"So you turned the raccoon into a dead rabbit instead of a live one?"

"No! I mean a stuffed rabbit - like the kind that kiddies sleep with!" Ron cried, blushing, for the second time that day, from the tip of his nose to the roots of his hair.

"Oh, oh Ron! That's ... that's awful," Hermione tried to suppress her giggles, and was relieved when Harry finally emerged from the boys' dormitories.

"Ready, Herm?" he asked, kneeling to tie his shoes.

"Yep," she replied, "and look what my parents sent me!" She revealed a broomstick that had been leaning against the back of the chair that Ron was currently occupying. "They sent in the request last time we were in Diagon Alley, but the next shipment for these was back-ordered. It's taken this long just for the order to process."

"Wow! An Aerial Racer! Ten-fold better than the Nimbus series, but still not quite up to par with the Firebolt," Ron said, winking at Harry, before excitedly examining the broom

"Well, we'd better get moving. Ron, you have to go to Snape's and clean up the mess from this afternoon's class. Sorry," she added apologetically.

"My day just keeps getting better and better," Ron grumbled as he exited the common room and headed for the dungeons.

"Poor Ron. Well, shall we go, Miz Granger?" Harry asked in mock-formality.

"Indeed, Mister Potter," she answered as she accepted his the crook of him offered arm. The pair made their way for the Quidditch pitch, Hermione in Muggle clothes and her cloak thrown on for warmth, and Harry in his full Quidditch uniform.