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Giving Professor Snape A Dose Of His Own Potion by rosai_gryffindor

Format: Short story
Chapters: 6
Word Count: 19,365
Status: WIP

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Violence, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature, Contains Slash (Same-Sex Pairing), Substance Use or Abuse

Genres: General, Humor, Romance
Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Snape, Seamus, Neville, Draco, Dean, Ginny
Pairings: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Draco/Hermione, Snape/OC, Other Pairing

First Published: 11/03/2007
Last Chapter: 08/20/2011
Last Updated: 08/20/2011


"‘Shnape ish on ze road to lurrrve… Garrrrrraw!'"
Somebody has slipped Professor Snape a Love Potion, but for whom? And it isn't necessarily a girl...
The Gryffindors are fed up with Snape treating them badly all the time, so they decide to teach him a lesson. But what happens when their crazy plan spirals out of control?

Chapter 3: Absolute Chaos

Disclaimer: Professor Snape would like to say how thankful he is to Rowling for not embarassing him in her official Harry Potter books in the way that he is in this fanfiction.

Chapter 3 – Absolute Chaos

A golden ray of light filtered through a gap in the moth-brown curtains draped across the Potions Master’s living quarters. It moved its beam slowly across the room until falling softly over Snape’s sallow, sleeping face, and under this sudden light he stirred slightly. A frown crept over his brow, and his lips began to droop from a contented curve into a thin line. As sleep left him for drowsiness, he turned over on to his side with an uncomfortable feeling that something very bad had happened to him. Then Harry’s face flashed painfully through his mind, and he opened his eyes in shock, only for his gaze to fall upon his neatly folded… and completely emerald, robes.

‘What the-’ he exclaimed aloud, sitting up hurriedly in bed as a terrible horror flooded through him. The faint scent of raspberries reached his nose, and he wrinkled it in disgust, feeling his soft, fluffy hair tickling the back of his neck as he did so. Memories of the day before filtered in front of his eyes and he cringed with embarrassment. Drinking his pumpkin juice at breakfast… singing in the shower whilst soaping his armpits…declaring his love for Potter whilst the whole Hall watched and laughed…being nasty to his beloved Slytherins and nice to the smirking Gryffindors…hugging Potter good night and blowing kisses after him…

‘NOOOOOOOO!!!’ he roared, and dust shook down from the ceiling. ‘This CANNOT be happening!’

He sat down hard on the floor, anger pulsing through him like it never had before. This was even worse than being humiliated by the marauders back in their school days, and what deepened the matter even further was the knowledge that everyone had witnessed his obscene behaviour. He had even boasted to his fellow colleagues about being in love! There was no way he could face them this morning. He would have to have breakfast in his room, and maybe skip classes for the day too. If he came across Potter, the embarrassment would be too much to bear. Curse the headmaster for insisting he teach a class how to make love potions! And as for Potter…

His mouth contorted into an evil grimace at the thought of what he would like to do to that abysmal boy. But the most important issue pressing on his mind at the moment was how to go about getting breakfast without leaving his room.

‘Dobby!’ he said sharply, after a moment’s thought, calling the only Hogwarts house elf that he knew the name of.

There came a loud crack, and a colourful ball of a house-elf appeared in the middle of the room, beaming with unnecessary happiness. Snape sneered at the image of the bobble hat covered in badges and the jumper made from socks that were knitted together. ‘Loony elf,’ he thought scornfully. ‘Still, better than facing the school…

‘What can Dobby do for you, Professor?’ asked the free elf, eyes narrowing at the teacher’s unpleasant expression.

‘Bring me a breakfast tray. I do not wish to eat in the Great Hall this morning,’ spat Snape, turning on his heel to find some decent (black) robes.

‘Very well sir,’ bowed Dobby, though he clearly disapproved of serving such a rude teacher, and with another crack, he vanished.


Breakfast at Hogwarts was normally a staggered affair, with pupils and staff arriving at any time between the hours of seven and nine, sometimes earlier. But on the morning after the fifth year Gryffindors’ revenge on Professor Snape, the doors opened at half past seven and in crowded Harry and his friends, followed about a minute later by Malfoy and his group of fifth year Slytherins. 

Both gangs seemed too distracted to notice this strange occurrence. They sat down at their house tables amongst a scattering of other students, filling their glittering golden plates and bowls with sizzling bacon, triangles of toast, and piles of cereal. The Slytherins were watching the Gryffindors with some sort of anticipation, but the Gryffindors were busy with their own thoughts to get suspicious.

Seamus and Dean were muttering mischievously together whilst helping themselves to bacon. They were giving the staff table frequent glances, watching Dumbledore munch on honey waffles, and Professors Sprout and Flitwick conduct a deep conversation complete with violent hand gestures.

Then Lavender and Parvati were extra giggly. Their hair was brushed immaculately and their pretty faces glimmered with subtle makeup as they observed a shifty looking Harry and Ron who were pretending to appear interested as Hermione ranted on about some essay that was due in on Friday. And Neville… he was reading a letter from his Gran and acting completely normal, although his eyes darted up to the staff table occasionally… but this was probably because he were scared Snape might return from his day of love to terrify the living daylights out of him once more.

The door to the Great Hall opened and Professor McGonagall walked in alongside Hagrid, heading up to the staff table to be joined shortly by Trelawney and Filch. Seamus and Dean gave a start and began to mutter again.

‘Where’s Snape?’ asked Dean anxiously, as McGonagall sat down in the potions master’s usual seat.

‘They’re all sitting in different places to usual!’ replied Seamus, a slight tone of panic in his voice.

There came a flash of red hair and Ginny sat down next to Ron. ‘Hey guys!’ she said cheerfully. ‘Great prank yesterday, Snape was completely off his head!’ She picked up a glass and took a deep sip from the contents, then reached for some toast and marmalade.

‘Mornin’’ replied Harry and Neville, who gave a slight yelp as something fuzzy and hard collided with his cheek.

‘Pig!’ scolded Ron, reaching out to take a letter off of the excited owl, who hooted gleefully and immediately stuck his beak into Neville’s pumpkin juice, gulping a quarter of the liquid within.

‘Yuck!’ said Neville, pulling a face. ‘I can’t drink that now you silly ball of a bird!’ 

Pigwigeon’s eyes bulged. He fluttered high into the air and disappeared urgently towards the windows high above. Neville chuckled and vanished the remaining juice with ‘Scorgify’, reaching out for the nearest goblet to replace his lost drink.

Meanwhile, up at the staff table something strange was happening. McGonagall’s eyes had gone all misty, and she was beginning to twiddle a strand of loose hair, giving quick, girly glances to the left of her where Professor Dumbledore sat reading the Daily Prophet. Filch had suddenly dropped his toast onto his lap, a confused expression on his face as he stared at the goblet of juice in front of him. Clearly he could see his reflection in the highly polished silver, because he proceeded to smooth his hair back and pout his lips with a deepening expression of un-satisfaction. Then, to the astonishment of the whole hall, he leapt to his feet and ran the length of the room to the entrance doors, puffing with the effort but smiling brightly as if determined to accomplish a mission.

‘What’s up with him?’ choked Ron, joining in the many mutterings and laughter from the breakfasting students. ‘Hermione, d’you reckon he’s finally lost it- Hermione?’ He broke off, looking at his friend in worry. ‘Hermione?’ 

She didn’t answer, but continued to stare vacantly into what was supposedly empty space, a tender smile playing around her lips. Ron waved his hand in front of her face, but she brushed it away lightly, looking past his left shoulder and fluttering her eyelashes. 

Ron slowly turned around as if trying to place himself exactly in her position, and frowned at the sight before him. Malfoy’s vivid blonde hair stood out from his green robed peers. He was directly in Hermione’s (and now Ron’s) view point at the Slytherin table, and the slippery little ferret was staring right back towards them, smiling broadly and blowing kisses at someone who could only be Hermione.

Ron swivelled back around in utter shock, only to find that Hermione was now returning the air kisses from Malfoy and mouthing, ‘I love you too!’

Ron felt as if some giant beast had just clawed its way up his oesophagus. ‘Harry!’ he exclaimed in anger, ‘Harry, what the bloody hell is going on with Hermione? She- Malfoy... What?’

There was no answer. 

‘Oh no...’

Harry was paying absolutely no attention to his friend whatsoever. In fact, he only had eyes for one thing in the Hall, and that was...

‘Good morning Ronald, you great sexy lion.’

Ron yelped and jumped to his feet, spinning around in alarm to find Pansy Parkinson standing just behind him, looking directly at him with hungry hazel eyes and a dazzling smile.

Harry immediately hurried to his feet too, and pushed Ron aside in his eagerness to speak to the Slytherin queen. ‘Pansy,’ he said seductively, face serious and emerald eyes shining. ‘Pansy, I love you with all my heart. Will you go out with me?’

‘WHAT?!’ came a screech from the table as Pansy narrowed her eyes and looked at Harry in disgust. Ron glanced nervously back at the table, where Ginny, the body of the screech, was staring at Harry and Pansy with extreme hurt and fiery determination.

This outburst caused Lavender and Parvati to stop gawping over at the Slytherin table where Crabbe and Goyle were wrapped in a tight embrace, lips locked onto each other’s as naturally as fish to water. Instead the two girls now gazed with dismay at their failed matchmaking attempts. Harry and Ron were supposed to fall for them, not some Slytherin tart! They didn’t have time to dwell on the matter for long though, as Seamus had conjured up a bunch of flowers and was now offering them to Lavender, eyes loving and pleading as he asked her to be his girlfriend.

She seemed entranced at once, and Parvati sighed with exasperation. Lavender had been trying to get Seamus for a long time now, despite her crush on Ron, and she knew her ditzy friend wouldn’t be able to resist a chance to make it work. She looked sadly at Harry, who was clearly besotted by Pansy. He would never love her now...

‘Um, Parvati?’

The Indian girl turned to see who had spoken her name with such tenderness, and was surprised and a little pleased to see Neville reaching out to place his hand over her own. She smiled at how right it felt, and shuffled along the bench so as to be closer to his embrace. 

‘Look at Trelawney!’ she chuckled, taking her eyes off of him for a moment to scan the staff table.

‘Oh gosh!’

The batty Divination Professor was sitting sideways on the chair next to McGonagall. She kept pawing the Transfiguration teacher with both hands, muttering predictions of their marriage and future five children whilst beaming up at her from under her thick goggles.

Normally McGonagall would have responded with exasperation. Today however, she was far more preoccupied with flirting with the Headmaster, and Dumbledore responded back with an alarming sincerity, despite secretly observing the whole fiasco with a growing amusement.

‘No, let them have their fun!’ was his muttered response to Professor Flitwick, who had tapped him on the shoulder to ask whether they should do something about the bewitched couples. ‘You never know, this may help some people who are meant to be together, mean to be!’


Down in the dungeons, Professor Snape was dressed plainly in his normal black robes and looking more like his bitter self. He sat down impatiently on his bed to wait for Dobby to bring him the breakfast tray, and was just musing as to how he could excuse himself from lessons without further teasing and humiliation, when something extremely sharp and fuzzy obscured his vision, accompanied by loud and blissful hooting.

‘AAAAWCH!’ he exclaimed, leaping to his feet. ‘What the hell just put its beak in my mouth?’

Pigwigeon, tiny and enthusiastic as ever, circled once around the room before zooming straight at Snape’s face again. The Professor had barely managed to shield himself from the excitable and loving bird when there came a knock at the door.

‘Go away!’ bellowed Snape. He did not want to be found in another embarrassing situation only a day after being forced to fall in love with Potter...

‘It’s only me my lovely,’ came a sickly sweet, grisly voice from behind the door. ‘It’s just Argus, Sevvy dear.’

Snape clutched the ball of struggling feathers to his stomach and arched his eyebrows in surprise. What in the name of Merlin was Filch doing coming to visit him in his living quarters and calling him ‘Sevvy dear’? 

‘Well go away Filch, I’m not in the mood,’ he barked out, somewhat hesitatingly. 

The doorknob began to turn ever so slightly. 

‘I said, GO AWAY!’ He was now struggling to stop Weasley’s stupid owl from escaping his grasp, and had become slightly pink in the face. 

Then the bird nipped his thumb.

‘Owch!’ he exclaimed, ‘Get off of me!’

Snape let go of Pigwigeon just as Filch stuck his head around the door, his hair gelled back neatly into a pony tail and cheeks glowing from being scrubbed to an unnatural cleanliness. He braced himself for the attack, but surprisingly the owl just fluttered to a rest on the top of the bed post in front of him, amber eyes misted over lovingly as he gazed at Snape's hooked nose. Relieved, the potions master turned to tell Filch he had no right to come bursting into his room, only to find himself glaring at another pair of misty, lovesick eyes, this time belonging to the beaming face of the Hogwarts caretaker.

‘I wurve you Sevvy!’ simpered Filch, puckering his lips and leaning forwards, just centimetres away from Snape’s cheek.

The horrified professor barely had time to take in the pink and gold bow tie hugging the old man’s neck before both their visions became obscured by a lot of feathers and the sharp beak of an indignant, jealous owl.


Dobby apparated back into the room, and nearly dropped the tray he was carrying at the sight of cranky caretaker Filch, and Weezy’s bird Pigwigeon fighting over Snape!

‘Dobby will come back later, Sir,’ spluttered the gleeful elf, as the Potions master collapsed onto the bed with Filch and the owl on top of him. 


Hermione and Draco gazed into each other’s eyes, unaware of the chaos around them, nor the attention that they were attracting now that nearly the whole school was in the Great Hall for breakfast.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ murmured Draco, running his fingers through her curly hair and admiring her petite features. ‘For a mudblood that’s quite some feat.’

‘Oh really?’ purred Hermione, smiling and cupping his chin in her hands. ‘Well for a ferret you’re rather sexy yourself!’ 

There came a loud gagging noise from somewhere beside them, just as her lips were about to meet his.

‘What do you want, Weasleby?’ snapped Malfoy, looking around for the source of the interruption. ‘Why don’t you go snog someone yourself... Oh wait, I forgot. No one will have you, save perhaps your sister. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m rather busy.’ His voice softened and he turned back to Hermione, who was looking at him in admiration, honey brown eyes filled with love. It killed Ron to see it; he had imagined her looking at him in that way more times than he could count. 

It’s just the potion, it’s just the potion,’ he repeated firmly in his head. ‘She would never, ever fall in love with Malfoy... right? I mean he’s Malfoy! And disgusting and evil and slimy...’ 

It was all he could do to keep himself from cursing the living daylights out of the Slytherin, especially as he had no moral help from anyone who would normally support his dilemma. Harry was besotted with Pansy, who was at this moment trying to fight off his advances to get to Ron because she was unable to keep her hands off of his apparently ‘adorable mane of lion hair’. It was only Harry who was keeping her from reaching him now, and for that he was thankful... Then everyone else seemed really happy with the way the potion had spiralled out of control. Neville and Parvati had long disappeared off together, and Lavender and Seamus were feeding each other Honey Nut Loops off of the same spoon. Crabbe and Goyle were… Well, Ron didn’t want to even dwell on what they were doing right now... And then even the teachers seemed to be having a fun time with the Trelawney-McGonagall-Dumbledore love triangle.

‘Hey mate, you ok?’

Ron stopped watching Hermione and Draco kissing and turned to see Dean looking at him sympathetically. 

‘We’re the only sane people here, aren’t we?’ he responded gloomily.

‘Looks like it... Doesn’t bother me as much as you though, as I don’t have feelings for any of the victims of the potion.’

Ron stared at him nervously. ‘What d’you mean? Nor do I!’

Dean just looked at him. 

Ron’s defences fell. ‘Fine. Yes I think I love Hermione, and she’s gone and fallen for our enemy. Happy now?’

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but there came a loud crack and Dobby appeared suddenly in their midst. 

‘Filch and the Weezy owl are in love with Professor Snape, and right now they’re fighting over him in his bedroom!’ he burst out triumphantly in a high pitched squeak.

Dean and Ron didn’t hesitate. 

‘I am happy now,’ answered Dean at the same time as Ron exclaimed, ‘This I’ve got to see!’ Then grinning at each other they ran out of the Hall and headed for the dungeons, though not before Ron had a flash of inspiration and sent a Langlock curse Malfoy’s way. ‘Hah! Let him try and snog Hermione now!’ he thought gleefully. ‘He’ll have a hard job with his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth... Oh no!

He stopped in his tracks. Dean and he had not been the only ones to leave the Great Hall... Pansy had come running after him. She was calling, ‘Come back Ronny dear!’ and had bat bogey’s flapping all over her face (Ron had a pretty good idea who was behind that). Then Harry had followed Pansy, trying to summon her to him with the Accio charm, which kept missing her by inches... And then finally Ginny had followed Harry and Pansy, yelling her love for Harry at the top of her voice to try to get his attention, and wanting to continue her duel with Pansy.

Ron groaned aloud and beat his hand to his head. Somehow the simple idea of revenge on Snape and a fun prank on the Slytherins had ended in complete and utter chaos! He ran as fast as he could down the Charms corridor whilst trying to get his head around the situation, and ducked gratefully down a secret passageway, hoping to Merlin that his deluded classmates wouldn’t follow.