Corrupt

Corrupt

Chapter Three

Experimentations Gone Awry

Snape met the pale group of wide-eyed adolescents with a nonchalant glance, which, as he hoped, lead them to believe he had slammed the door accidentally. He could sense their apprehension though- it was not everyday that a prefect from the notoriously pure-blood Slytherin approached another prefect in a rival house- let alone Gryffindor. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and he broke it with a mocking tone...

"I would not be so quick to have the notes of someone so beneath your academic standard, Hermione." His words were innocent, despite their negativity, but the undertones were cautionary, and she understood. She was bold, not stupid, and her reply was given in a brash but respective manner...

"I would not be so quick as to assume my requisition of his notes were for learning purposes, sir. They served only as a means of comparison, of which I am through with. If you'll kindly excuse me, I believe I have a class to prepare for," and with that, she glided past him- raising her chin and leaving yet another opportunity for nosy gossip and looks. Hogwarts students were not unlike a muggle high-school; every move had its motive, and every student was determined to know just what that motive was.

Snape expected as much, and did nothing to retaliate, however deserving she was of point-deduction and detention. He received a solitary giggle from a Raven-claw third-year, at which point he threateningly reached for his wand. The giggle stopped, and the room silenced again as students gathered their things and began their day of classes. Angering a teacher was bad enough- but pissing off a Death-eater was like taunting Satan himself.

Severus ignored the eyes of Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore. He knew they didn't approve of his use of authority to command silence and power, so he drifted closer to the Gryffindor table, downed a tall glass of pumpkin juice, and left without ever looking at them. They wouldn't question it- he always had a reason they couldn't refute, the attempt would be useless.

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"The Innocence Spell- what is its purpose? Malfoy?" snapped Severus. Draco wouldn't drag his attention from Hermione for even an instant, and the glare in his eyes remained as it was minutes before Potions began.

"The Innocence Spell casts a glamour of innocence over its user. One drinks the potion and appears angelic to anyone that looks upon her," replied Draco, without ever breaking eye contact with the brown mane of Hermione, sitting diagonally in front and to the left of him. He began to wonder if such a girl as she used it- trying to pass off as naive about what she'd done.

"Perhaps if you paid more attention to your studies and less attention to the behavior of others you would remember that glamours are cast through charms- not spells. Granger?" The tone in Snape's voice was understood by Draco, and he inwardly cursed the professor as he broke his look and faced his text.

"The Innocence Spell is used for the purpose of determining guilt. One drinks the potion, and whom ever he accuses unknowingly speaks of his guilt or innocence," Hermione dictated to the class matter-of-factly. She would have added the chapter number, as well as warnings, but rubbing it in Draco's face today would have only lead to trouble. The exchange between Snape and Malfoy was a dead give-away that she hadn't escaped his vision when he left at breakfast.

"What Granger failed to mention was its rarity in precision- both quantitatively and qualitatively. The amount of potion one must drink to determine another's guilt or innocence is dependant on the degree of guilt, severity of accusation, and mentality of the accused. Accuracy is affected if the potion is too strong or too weak. What is the muggle equivalent?" Potions was a class that Hermione was passionate about- and for this reason entirely. Snape made sure to account for muggle similarities to the magical world- and she appreciated it thoroughly. As the only muggle-born in Slytherin, she had but few with which to revel this information with.

Her hand shot up enthusiastically.

"Pansy?" Hermione sighed impatiently.

"A polygraph, or lie-detector. It detects rapid changes in heart-beat or breathing, such as would happen when under tense situations, like coming up with an alibi or excuse." Pansy was easily infatuated, but not dumb as a rock. This morning's confrontation with Draco gave her reason to lay low for a while, so she studied to keep her mind off of him. It didn't work, but she was better prepared for being randomly chosen to become a recipient of Snape's tormenting.

"Correct. Let's begin gathering supplies- pair off and decide which will measure the ingredients and who will physically carry out the work. Quickly- we haven't much time for a slow-pace today. Be careful, but speed-up a bit, I can't let you out of here with this potion. You are sixth-years and will begin using spells that are dangerous outside of proper hands; this is one of them. Do as I say and do not question it." Snape knew the potential this potion had, and chose to dilute some of the ingredients. In the wrong hands, in the wrong amounts, Voldemort himself would have access to a variety of- no. He would not think of it now, it was too distracting.

Ingredients were gathered and the mixing began. Thrice clockwise, 5 counter-clockwise, 30 second rest, clockwise until the hue faded from purple to lilac, and a final rest until the smoke cleared before ingestion. It wasn't difficult if you bade attention to the liquid and concentrated. Permission was granted to split the potion and consume.

"It tastes sweet, like nectar-" Hermione dropped her test-tube. The glass shattered and splinters flew everywhere. She stumbled and tried to clasp the edge of her table, but missed and met the floor. "It..I, I can't, breathe- its like fire! I can't see!" In a screaming fit, Hermione crumpled into a ball on the floor and the students began to panic. The fun of testing new potions was turning into a near-death experience, and Hermione wore herself out into unconsciousness.

Harry Potter ran to her, as did Draco. They both feared for her- concerned that her reaction to the potion would be fatal. But Draco didn't think it was the potion alone that caused this- they had all had it for a few moments by now and everyone else seemed fine. This was the work of an interaction between the potion and something else...

"Out of the way Harry- she doesn't need a hero, she needs air, give her space," commanded Draco. The fear and anger that he had had to stifle earlier on was surfacing, and Potter was already his target without this added on.

"Shove it Malfoy, you know she can't handle it as well as the others- her stomach isn't up to it." Harry was protective of Hermione because he knew of her lineage, and didn't understand why she wasn't sorted into Gryffindor, with more muggles like herself that knew the dangers of magic and could better protect each other.

"You think it's because she's like one of you she couldn't handle it?! She's a Slytherin- she can take more than you can! Get the hell away from her!" Draco leapt at Harry and tackled him away from her. One more reference to being part muggle, and Draco knew he'd kill Harry before Voldemort could get to him.

Snape came over and muttered an incantation that froze the two in mid-fight. Harry was developing a bruise on the side of his jaw, and Draco obviously had the upper-hand due to the upper-body strength he acquired in his father's company, outside of Hogwarts. He reached down and lifted the limp girl's body, carrying to the Hospital Wingto personally deposite her in their care.

Though frozen, both could think clearly, and Draco wondered why Snape seemed so calm. What enchantment or charm could react that strongly with an Innocent Spell- unless it had to do with someone in the room. Or someone with direct contact during the day with Hermione, like another Slytherin. Did Snape know more than he was letting on?