Preposterous Potions

Preposterous Potions

“Silence!” demanded Potions Professor Snape, sweeping in the classroom with his usual bat-like glare. His stern voice immediately silenced even the gossiping duo Lavendar and Parvati, an amazing feat in itself. The fact that he also caused them to, wonder of wonders, put away the Witch Weekly Magazine hidden under their desks was nothing short of miraculous.

“Today, class, we are going to make a most dangerous Potion. It shall be exceedingly difficult; therefore I do not expect most of you to get it right. However, I need at least one of these potions for my stock. I shall therefore be pairing you according to ability, not according to House. I will not guarantee that you will be paired with the same Houses. If I hear one complaint, the complainer gets a detention and fifty points’ loss from their House, Gryffindor or Slytherin,” he said ominously. Gulp. “Potter, Zabini.” The two mediocre potion students looked warily at each other. “Patil, Brown.” The two girls heaved a sigh of relief. “Parkinson, Finnigan.” Seamus cautiously moved his things next to Pansy, who wrinkled her nose. “Weasley, Goyle.” Ron grimaced. “Malfoy, Granger.” This was expected; they were the two best potions students, and this pairing had occurred before. This did not make the pairing anymore welcome, however, and the two students grimaced simultaneously. “Longbottom, Crabbe.” Neville’s round face puckered—there went his last chance of getting so much as a P in this class. He moved to the cauldron next to Malfoy and Hermione with a woeful look at the latter, who smiled sympathetically.

“The potion you shall be brewing…” he paused for effect, something Hermione would never have dreamed of their undramatic teacher, “is Amortentia.” Typically, the girls sighed while the boys made ‘ew’ faces. For some reason, Hogwarts had never really gotten past the ‘girls are icky unless you snog them’ stage. Besides, of course, the Golden Trio.

Hermione started chopping and grinding the ingredients, while Malfoy concentrated on dissecting the lacewings in just the right manner. Amortentia was a difficult potion, but Hermione was relieved to see that the most time-consuming parts of the brewing had already been done, apparently by Snape. It did involve adding and mixing things simultaneously, during which she was actually glad that she had been paired with Malfoy. Harry was not half bad, but Malfoy had natural talent, and she found it exhilarating not to have to constantly backtrack and explain herself.

Typically, halfway through the lesson, her potion was bubbling merrily with a pearly smoke, though it had not yet gained the spirals, or the smell. Glancing at Harry’s cauldron, she was relieved to see that he and Zabini had not hexed each other yet, and that his potion was still normal, though only a third of the way through. Ron had obviously given up his potion as hopeless, and was poking the thick orange liquid tentatively, obviously with the intent of stealing some to probably slip in some unsuspecting Slytherin’s drink. Lavendar was gossiping busily with Parvati, not even noticing that her potion was close to bubbling over. Poor Neville was waving helplessly at the thick, gooey muddy substance in his cauldron, which was giving off suspicious green fumes and looked highly unstable.

“There!” said Hermione brightly. Her hair was matted to her forehead by sweat, the curls flattened by the smoke rising from the cauldron. Her eyes, however, were shining with triumph as she gazed at the perfect potion. She and Malfoy bottled a sample and carried it to Snape’s desk. As usual, they were the first ones to finish, though Harry was certainly almost done, and he looked almost friendly with Zabini. She smiled encouragingly at him—inter-House unity was always a good thing—and headed back to the cauldron to Vanish the contents. She was bending over the cauldron and Malfoy was right next to her, cleaning up the Wolfsbane, when it happened. Neville’s cauldron gave a resounding boom, and pieces of shattered cauldron went flying everywhere. Hermione’s eyes widened as she saw the green fumes heading toward Harry’s cauldron. Harry, who had just returned from taking his flask to Snape’s desk, was talking to Zabini and actually smiling when he looked up and saw the fumes. His eyes widened and he jerked Zabini out of the way—amazing, or maybe not, with his hero-complex—and dived after him as his cauldron exploded as well, thanks to poor Neville.

Hermione, for some reason, shoved Malfoy to the floor with herself as she prepared to take refuge under the desk. Unfortunately, she had been too busy shoving him to the floor, and the Amortentia splashed all over her…and Malfoy. Thick pearly smoke engulfed her, and for a moment everything went black.

When she opened her eyes, she was still on top of Malfoy. The whole class was in a frenzy. Poor Neville looked as though he might cry. She looked from Malfoy to the potion, eyes wide. Harry’s potion had been correct…which meant…which meant….

“Bloody hell, Granger, just do it and get it over with already!” growled Malfoy sexily. Her brain shuttered, and raw passion took over. Before she knew it, she was kneeling on top of him, her mouth finding his hungrily, her hands clawing at his back and his undoing the front of her robes. Her hair falling all over the place, his oh-so-hot hair in her face, his lips on hers, warm and inviting…she closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink into his embrace. Mmmm…he tasted so good…

Harry and Ron watched in shock as their bookworm turned into a sex fiend with the ferret, an image that was sure to give them mental trauma in their later life. “Oh, Merlin,” whimpered Parvati, watching the couple. “It’s so hot in here….” Suddenly, she wheeled around and grabbed at Seamus, who acquiesced to her hungry kisses eagerly. Ron suddenly gave way to Pansy, and Blaise grabbed for Lavendar. Harry watched in amazement as his year-mates turned into wild, raving animals.

“Enough!” roared Snape, and everyone stopped dead, blushing and embarrassed. Everyone, that is, except for Draco and Hermione, who continued snogging like mad, oblivious of the giggles and mutters around them. Snape strode over and forcibly separated to two, glaring like mad. “Malfoy, Granger. You two are obviously out of your sense. Report to Madam Pomfrey immediately. NOW!” he yelled, and the still-dazed Hermione fled, followed by Draco. She cast a longing glance back at him. Who would have thought he was such a good kisser? He stared hungrily back at her.

They never did make it to Madam Pomfrey’s. But Draco assured Hermione that she was perfectly all right. In fact, he even offered to prove it to her in a broom closet. Blushing, she declined the offer. She did, however, accept his offer of talking this over in Hogsmeade over some butterbeer.

“Did they really, Severus?” asked Albus Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling.

“Yes,” said Snape animatedly. “But I must say, I didn’t count on Weasley and Parkinson, or Patil and Finnigan…or Zabini and Brown. Still, a side bonus, I suppose. How many galleons that Weasley and Parkinson get together by the end of next month?”

“Ten,” giggled a very different Minerva McGonagall from the one who was so stern to the students. Then again, Hogwarts would never have pinned Severus Snape as a secret matchmaker.