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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 1: Something Has To Be Done!
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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 1 - Something Has To Be Done

A mumble of voices echoed around the dreary dungeon as the fifth years huddled around their lit cauldrons for warmth and cheer. Conversations cascaded off the damp walls in an eerie, muffled manner but the brightly glowing flames lifted the atmosphere for everyone. To the Gryffindors it was the only light in the gloom of an upcoming lesson with Professor Snape, and to the Slytherins it offered the flickering prospect of their favourite lesson.

‘He’s late…’ muttered Dean to Seamus.

‘Thankfully,’ his friend replied, in his comic Irish accent. ‘Maybe something’s happened to him?’ 

They continued to converse about things that may have happened to Snape, including his being burned alive by shampoo, which they imagined he must be allergic to.

On the table across from them, Hermione was engrossed in her textbook, a frown on her face at the lateness of their professor and the delay of good learning time. Beside her Neville sat quaking on his stool, twitching at the slightest of sounds. The coming of the potions master was his worst nightmare, and so all his senses were on edge.

‘Bloody cheek,’ Ron said to Harry from the table just in front of them, his red hair flopping dangerously near the cauldron’s flame as he attempted to keep warm. ‘If we were this late it would be at least twenty points off of Gryffindor and a detention.’

The smell of singeing hair reached Harry’s nostrils. ‘I know… Ron mate, your hair’s on fire, and I don’t mean your colour!’ 

Ron yelped and moved away from the cauldron, beating his fringe with his hands. Harry rolled his eyes and took out his wand, casting a simple spell on his friend.

Ron’s hair immediately stopped burning and grew back to its normal shade of red. ‘Thanks Harry!’ he breathed, eyeing the flames warily.

Harry was about to reply, but the door at the side of the dungeon suddenly burst open to reveal Professor Snape. All chattering immediately ceased as if the trickling of voices had been water from a tap, Dean’s mumbling of, ‘Eyeballs sliced…’ the last droplets as it was turned off. A tense silence followed, broken only by the thump of footsteps on the stone-flagged floor as Snape swished his way towards the front of the dungeon, tall and daunting like an oversized bat.

He reached the teacher’s platform under satisfied smirks and awe-struck stares from the Slytherins, whilst the Gryffindor expressions showed a mixture of fear, annoyance and distain. He did not apologise for being late, instead glancing once around the room to return the Slytherins smirks and finish with a sneer at the Gryffindors. Then he folded his arms defensively in front of him and fixed his gaze down the middle of the rows of cauldron benches. His sallow face was a picture of blank boredom as he spoke; large nose hooked and as daunting as ever, and black eyes glittering below thick, dark eyebrows.

‘Today I will be teaching you how to brew the Love Potion Amortentia, so that you will be able to…’

He was interrupted by an outbreak of giggles from Parvati and Lavender, and a few snorts from Ron and Dean. Even the goody-goody Slytherin girls Pansy and Daphne had their hands covering their mouths, and Draco Malfoy was staring at his favourite teacher in disbelief.

Professor Snape’s mouth formed a thin line. ‘Silence!’ he growled. ‘Ten points from Gryffindor for unnecessary giggling. Miss Patil and Miss Brown you will control yourself or it will be twenty.’ 

Lavender and Parvati scowled at this unfairness, but continued to exchange amused and excited glances once the potions master had taken his eye off of them.

The class soon sobered up under the iron gaze of their professor, and once he was sure he had their full attention, he continued speaking. ‘As I was saying, we will be brewing the Amortentia potion, so that you can then fully understand the counter potion and cure for it. As you know, Love Potions are a banned substance at Hogwarts however, to my regret, it is in the O.W.L. curriculum that you learn this, and the Headmaster insists that I teach it to you.’ He sneered with disapproval at the thought of Dumbledore’s teaching ideas, and it was obvious that teaching the 5th years to brew a Love Potion was not a way he would favourably opt to spend his time. 

‘Who can tell me the properties of Amortentia?’ he asked in a bored voice.

As expected, nobody seemed to know the answer except for Hermione, who immediately raised her hand as far as it would go.

He determinedly ignored her stare and fixed his cold gaze upon Neville instead, his mouth curving up slightly in an amused smirk.

‘Longbottom, you answer me. What are the properties of Amortentia?’ 

Every other Gryffindor looked outraged at Snape’s bullying of Neville, and Hermione stretched her arm, if possible, even higher. Her eyes narrowed, but she was ever eager to be asked the answer.

Neville trembled under the professor’s hard gaze, his blue eyes wide, and face pale. He didn’t dare not to answer though, and looked down at his feet, mumbling a guess. ‘T- to make someone fall in l- love with somebody else?’

The Slytherins' cruel laughter rang around the dungeons.

To make someone fall in love with somebody else,’ mimicked Professor Snape. ‘I think that would be obvious to even a four year old, Longbottom. No, that is incorrect. Five points from Gryffindor.’

Neville’s bottom lip quivered but he kept staring determinedly at his feet as Hermione squeezed his hand reassuringly, glaring daggers at the professor.

‘Anybody else like to tell me the correct answer?’ came the low, sneering voice.

Hermione’s hand jumped into the air again automatically, the answer bursting beneath her lips.

‘No one?’ said Snape, again pretending not to see Hermione.

At the Slytherin side of the dungeon, Malfoy was flipping quickly through the Potions textbook. His eyes gleamed as he found a page mentioning Amortentia potion, and he quickly scanned it then raised his hand casually, his finger flopping forwards in a bored sort of way.

Snape almost smiled. ‘Mr Malfoy?’ he asked in a calm voice.

‘Sir, the Amortentia potion, when a certain person’s hair is added to it, will engulf the brain of the one who drinks it with the chemical for lust and attraction, so that they believe themselves to be in love with that person.’ 

‘Correct! Ten points to Slytherin. But that is only one property… what is the other?’

Hermione stood up, fed up of being deliberately ignored. ‘The Amortentia potion, Sir, is a very powerful Love Potion not in strength, but in duration. Its effects last twenty-four hours before diminishing, and in that time, the Herbituous Leaf and Liquidised Dragon's Claw mix with the chemicals in the brain to engulf the person in lust and attraction for the person who’s hair is added to the potion. It is essential to know the counter potion, for if drank in excess, the potion will damage that area of the brain forever.’ She rattled this off very quickly in one breath, then sat back down again, cheeks slightly flushed.

Professor Snape seethed with anger, and his expression grew harder. ‘Miss Granger, I did not ask you to speak. Twenty points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn, and a further ten points off for reading that answer straight out of the text book.’

He turned to the board and tapped it with his wand. Chalked white letters appeared on the dark green background, listing the ingredients and their properties and the correct method for brewing.

Hermione lowered her eyes to the table where her shut Potions book sat, and burned with indignation at his accusation and unfair behaviour towards her. Dean and Seamus sent her sympathetic looks, which she returned with a small smile, and Ron and Harry stared darkly at the professor’s back; Harry silently restrain Ron from cursing Snape in his anger at how Hermione had been treated.

Professor Snape turned to face them once more. ‘You have until the end of this lesson to brew your potions, making note of each ingredient and the components and reactions, so that when we come to learn the counter potion, you will have an easier time understanding. The method is on the board, follow it extremely carefully. Your finished potion should look like this.’

He took the lid off of his own cauldron and a pink haze wafted into the air, shimmering above the potion within. Taking a flask, he scooped up a sample to show the class. It was colourless in a swirly way, and slightly thinner than water. ‘The potion should smell fruity, enticing the drinker to want to take a sip, or if added to another drink, tasteless and with no distinctive smell. It is its undetection that makes it such a dangerous potion. You may start work now, I will monitor your process to make sure you aren’t all so unintelligent as to get it wrong…’ He looked pointedly at Neville, and slid his gaze to Ron also. Ron felt tempted to stick his tongue out at the slimy professor, but felt he’d better not to, mainly because he was scared of the reaction it would cause.

For a while the class became busy, as everyone took out the ingredients and applications needed from their potions kit and began setting up. Then they got to work with only a quiet bubble of voices, determined to get everything right.

Dean began adding his ingredients to the boiling water. Snape lurked behind him like an unwanted and distracting zit on a chin, and startled the hardworking boy by coughing suddenly. Dean dropped the spoon he was using to scoop up the crushed Moonbeam leaves into his cauldron, splashing hot water over his arm.

‘Bugger!’ he swore, rubbing at his arm where a small burn appeared, stinging. ‘Owch!’

‘Careful Thomas,’ sneered Snape. ‘Five points from Gryffindor for clumsiness and ten for swearing in front of a teacher… Don’t be a baby, its only a tiny scald,’ he added, as Dean cried out softly. Beside him, Seamus conjured an ice cube for his friend to place on the pinky white mark, and Dean took it, smiling gratefully.

Seamus then turned to Snape angrily. ‘Taking points off of him ‘cause he burned himself? How stupid is that!’

‘Seam…’ warned Dean, but it was too late.

‘Mr Finnegan, ten points off for answering back,’ snarled Snape coolly, smirking again as he moved on to breathe down Neville’s neck instead.

Seamus’ eyes flashed with indignance. ‘Why that little…’

‘Leave it,’ muttered Dean, ‘insult him later. Right now we have already lost sixty points, and its bordering on a hundred if we’re not careful…’

Seamus nodded, seething quietly and throwing his ingredients into the cauldron with angered force. There was a bang, a puff of smoke, and the boiling hot potion splattered onto his arm, causing it to go completely numb and his arm hair to grow at an alarming rate.

‘Finnegan! What now?’ boomed Snape, heading over to him once more. ‘You added the Dragons Claw before the Herbitious Leaves, didn’t you?’

Seamus didn’t care what he had done. He tried moving his arm and failed, the long, blonde hair now trailing right down to the floor.

‘Clear up the mess!’ demanded Snape, eyeing the hairy arm with amusement.

‘But Sir, I can’t move my arm, and the hair is going everywhere!’ 

‘Really? I see no difference… everyone has arm hair, some more than others!’

Seamus gave Dean a look of despair, and his friend glared at Snape. ‘I think I should take him to the hospital wing, Sir.’ Without waiting for an answer, he led his friend out of the dungeon, blonde curtain of hair dragging on the floor behind them.

Meanwhile, Neville had been crumbling under the stare of Professor Snape. He kept making clumsy mistakes to the delight of the potions master, who sneered and goaded him the worse he got. The Gryffindor was now in tears, staring at his congealed glob of a potion with despair, and being comforted by Hermione, whose potion was in perfect condition for the stage she was at. Neither of them noticed Seamus’ accident in their own angry state.

Ron grumbled and complained, trying to make his potion look better by turning it blue and adding powdered beetles eggs (which weren’t on the list). Harry was also distracted, staring at the door through which Seamus and Dean had just left. His cauldron smelled burnt, and a dark brown liquid lurked on the bottom. He heard Snape praising Malfoy and stood up, heading to the store cupboard to get some spare dragon claw. It provided the perfect excuse to peek into the Slytherin’s cauldron, and what he saw was no better than his own disaster. Malfoy’s potion was completely solid and clear coloured with bits of green blobs in it that looked like bogey. Harry’s annoyance at Snape’s biased character rose if possible, higher than ever. He couldn’t wait for the lesson to end, hoping he would get off lightly without the usual comments about him being the chosen one, or stupid, or as arrogant as his father.

He returned to his cauldron, heart sinking at the sight of Snape standing beside his seat, looking down his hooked nose at the burned gloop at the bottom.

‘Potter,’ spat Snape. ‘What do you call this?’

‘Amortentia potion, Sir,’ replied Harry, as casually as possible.

‘You do, do you? Well do you know what I call it?’

‘No sir…’

‘I call it the incompetent messing of an unintelligent student bent on being as worthless as his father, and hoping to get by on fame only.’

Harry’s heart boiled at the insult of his father, but he kept his face blank. ‘My father wasn’t worthless,’ he said quietly, staring Snape in the eye, ‘and nor am I.’

Snape stared back at him for what seemed like an age, then, ‘Detention, Potter, Saturday night, my office, and five points off of Gryffindor for your cheek.'

The bell rang finally, signalling the end of the lesson, much to everyone’s relief. Only Hermione’s potion looked remotely like it was supposed to be, and she went to get a flask to collect a sample to hand in. When she came back the potion was gone, her cauldron empty. And from behind his cauldron, the sneering face of Professor Snape watched her scornfully, daring her to say anything. 

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her bothered, Hermione held her head high and determinedly choked back the hot tears swimming beneath her eyes as she packed up along with the rest of the class. She hurried out ahead of Ron and Harry, getting away as quickly as possible. As it was the last lesson of the day, they had an hour before dinner. She bumped into Dean and Seamus as they were heading back from the hospital wing to Gryffindor tower. Seamus’ arm was now in a bandage, successfully de-haired, and she briefly explained what had happened after they left. Her brown eyes shone with determination and the lust for revenge as she told them, ‘Meeting in the common room now, of all fifth year Gryffindors.’

Dean and Seamus nodded, murmuring agreement, their eyes reflecting Hermione’s feelings exactly as they replied, ‘Right. We’ll be there…’


The fifth year Gryffindors grouped together in a corner of the common room, immediately launching into a spout of complaints and insults at Snape’s intolerable behaviour. They were attracting quite a few stares from the other years, and Ginny was eyeing them with interest.

‘Let’s take this up to us boys’ dormitory,’ suggested Ron sensibly, analysing his sister’s look and knowing she would soon be coming over to ask what was going on. 

‘Good idea,’ agreed Hermione. ‘Come on everyone!’

Once in the privacy of the dormitory, they made themselves comfortable on the beds and resumed their discussion. The seriousness of the situation distracted even Lavender and Parvati from giggling about being in the boys’ dorms, on Seamus’ bed.

‘…It’s just gone beyond the line of general biasness, it’s now evil, nasty bullying,’ stated Hermione with feeling.

‘You’re right,’ sniffed Neville, his eyes still puffy from the tears that he had been reduced to in the lesson.

‘Something has to be done,’ added Dean.

‘Should we go to Dumbledore?’ asked Parvati.

‘No!’ exclaimed Harry, ‘he can’t do anything about it, Snape would be worse if we complained…’

‘Then what do you think we should do mate?’ asked Ron, his hair ruffled with anxiety.

Harry’s face gleamed. ‘I think it’s time we played a prank… Not once since we’ve been in school have we played a trick worthy of the Marauders!’

Lavender looked puzzled along with the others, except for Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville, who were grinning at Harry in agreement. 

‘Who are the Marauders?’ she asked.

‘They were what my Dad and his friends called themselves whilst at school, and they were the biggest group of pranksters and jokers Hogwarts has ever seen!’

Dean and Seamus’ eyes lit up mischievously. ‘What did you have in mind Harry?’

He grinned back. ‘I think it’s time we taught Snape a lesson, gave him a dose of his own potion so to speak.’

All eyes focused eagerly on him as he leaned closer to them and spoke quietly. ‘This is what I propose we do…’

Chapter 2: Revenge Is Sweet
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Disclaimer: In this chapter, Snape sings in the shower (and yes, he is actually washing!) Does that really sound like something Rowling would write? Thought not…

Chapter 2 - Revenge Is Sweet

Professor Snape sipped his pumpkin juice the following morning, evilly eyeing the students who had come down early for breakfast. His eyes were glittering as usual with a mean and scathing coolness, but as he drank the last few drops, they began to soften and become rather misty. He felt an affectionate warmth spread up from his heart and into his chest, and began to support rather a goofy grin. He forgot completely about his breakfast, instead drawing himself up with a certain grace, feeling that the world had suddenly become a lot brighter than normal. 

Then his happiness was replaced by a certain horror that he had not washed that morning, as he’d taken his weekly bath some days ago. He was also very aware that his robes were rather an unattractive black. What if the person who he suddenly felt so much affection for were to come down to breakfast soon, and see him like this? He couldn’t bare it! 

With an alarming agility and lightness never before seen by anyone when it came to the slimy potions master, he hurried out of the Great Hall towards his living quarters. He received many confused and sniggering stares along the way, but barely noticed as he was more preoccupied hoping he wouldn’t bump into this new love of his life just yet!

Once in his bathroom, he turned on the shower and conjured a bottle of raspberry shampoo, as he did not possess even one bottle of hair washing liquid. Then he took out from a cupboard some manly smelling soap, and finally grabbed a fluffy towel off of the rack beside the sink. 

‘AAAH-LAA-LAAA-TRAA-LEEE-LOOOOOO,’ he sang joyfully whilst soaping the bubbles under his armpits, grinning away happily. 

He squirted the swirly pink shampoo into his greasy and straggly crop of hair, smoothing it into a frothy lather before rinsing the suds out thoroughly. 

When he was satisfied with his cleanliness he turned off the water and wrapped his dripping self in the towel, rubbing his hair with another. Afterwards he blow-dried it with his wand so that it lay soft, shiny and fluffy upon his shoulders. He then took out a pair of clean robes and arranged them neatly around his body whilst humming a tune in a surprisingly mellow and tonal voice. But the full length mirror on the back of the door caught his reflection and he frowned. As if caught by sudden inspiration, he pointed his wand at the coarse material and they immediately flushed to a royal emerald green. 

‘Perfect! It even matches…’ muttered Snape to himself, doing a sort of twirl on the spot. ‘…I look sexy!’ 

He noticed that his face was rather pallid and pale, and so pinched his cheeks to give a light flush of colour, smiling at himself in the mirror and trying out different poses.

‘Oh yersh…’ he spoke, in a low and slightly French accented voice. ‘Shnape ish on ze road to lurrrve… Garrrrrraw!’ 

He brushed his teeth ‘til they gleamed, and squirted on some aftershave, overcome with a desire to show off his new look to the love of his life, who was most probably at breakfast by now. Smiling at the thought of this, he skipped out of his room and back to the Great Hall, slowing to a graceful walk as he entered through the doors, eyes bright and eager as he scanned the house tables. 

There was a sudden silence as everyone caught sight of the potions master’s cheery attire, and giggles began to break out as he headed towards the Gryffindor table. 

‘Harry!’ he called huskily, appearing behind the shocked Gryffindors, who were spluttering and gasping with laughter. ‘Harry, how are you this morning?’ He bent down and ruffled Harry’s jet black hair, grinning madly. 

Harry gulped and tried to straighten his face. ‘Hi professor,’ he managed to say, smiling back and ignoring Dean and Seamus who were clutching their sides and making teasing kissing noises. ‘Are you feeling ok?’ 

Snape chuckled and smoothed back his hair. ‘Oh yes, very much so while you are around.’ He stepped back and flourished his arms widely. ‘I love you Mr Potter, and that is the most beautiful feeling in the world!’ 

The Hall rang with laughter as he tried to hug the stunned boy, who pushed him back gently. ‘Sorry Sir, not now,’ said Harry awkwardly, noting the strong scent of raspberries with great amusement as Ron guffawed loudly beside him. 

Snape’s lip began to quiver. ‘Don’t you love me too?’ he asked sadly, and there came a crash from the opposite side of the table as Neville fell off of the bench. 

It was all Harry could do to stop himself from joining Neville in collapsing to the floor and rolling about laughing. ‘It’s not that,’ he gasped, ‘just that you must earn my love.’ 

These words caused the whole of the Gryffindors to erupt into a loud burst of laughter, which Snape ignored fervently. ‘What must I do Mr Potter?’ he asked eagerly, getting down on his knees and clutching the hem of Harry’s robes. 

‘You must be nice to the Gryffindors in the potions lesson today,’ replied Harry sincerely, ‘and not to the Slytherins. They are your enemies and want to stop you from loving me.’ 

Snape nodded. ‘Anything, anything for you! I am at your service Harry, and I will win your heart!’ 

He stood up and smoothed back his fluffy hair, giving a strange curtsy. ‘Now can I hug you? Pwease?’ 

‘Err, all right then,’ spluttered Harry, his emerald eyes filling with tears of mirth. 

Snape beamed and bent down to embrace him, expression full of delighted affection. Then he leapt up and blew him a kiss. ‘See you later Harry,’ he trilled, making his way up to the staff table in little skips.

The teachers all looked at him with a mixture of alarm and delight as he took his seat, not quite knowing what to say. 

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. ‘Good morning, Severus,’ he said pleasantly, ‘you are looking happy this morning.’ 

Snape gave him a huge smile in return. ‘I am in love, Albus!’ he breathed. ‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ 

‘Very,’ muttered Minerva dryly, the creases in the corners of her eyes showing her silent laughter as her colleague began to hum sweetly and help himself to a bagel. 

‘Fantastic prank,’ whispered Flitwick to Dumbledore, his face red from laughter. ‘Haven’t seen the likes for years now! Who was it do you know?’ 

Dumbledore smiled and looked towards the Gryffindors, who were all engaged in delighted conversation which centred around a madly laughing Harry. 

‘I suspect, Fillius, that young Mr Potter and his friends may be behind it. Severus has been giving them rather a hard time I have heard.’ 

‘Well good for them, good for them,’ squeaked the tiny charms professor. ‘I have never seen Severus in love, it is rather alarming don’t you think?’ 

The headmaster glanced over to his right, where Snape was now admiring his face in a conjured hand mirror, and stifled a laugh. ‘Oh I think he is rather charming…’ 

‘He smells of raspberries!’ stated McGonagall rather disgustedly to herself as Flitwick asked worriedly, ‘Is there something you aren’t telling me Albus?’ 

Dumbledore winked. ‘Well if there was, I wouldn’t admit it now, would I?’ 

Snape put away the mirror and contented himself with watching Harry admiringly. ‘Such a hero!’ he kept exclaiming, twiddling his hair around his wand. 

The other teachers giggled and exchanged exasperated glances, finishing their breakfasts in silence. 


‘That-’ spluttered Seamus, twenty minutes later, ‘was absolutely- brilliant!’ 

Parvati and Lavender giggled hysterically. ‘I love you Mr Potter, and that is the most beautiful feeling in the world!’ they mimicked, imitating Snape’s swoons. 

Hermione wiped tears away from her eyes. ‘He was staring at you all through breakfast, Harry,’ she said teasingly. 

‘Oh shut up!’ he answered, laughing again and nursing the stitch in his side. ‘I never imagined he would be so silly! It’s marvellous that potion, I can’t wait ‘til our lesson this afternoon!’ 

‘Me neither!’ squeaked Neville happily. 

‘Yeah!’ breathed Ron. ‘Should be the best one of our lives!’ 

Dean sighed in happiness. ‘And the best part is that we have more access to the stuff!’ he reminded. ‘There’s vat loads of it down there!’ 

Harry and Ron looked at him in delight, but Hermione frowned. ‘What do we need more for?’ she asked. 

Dean suddenly looked uncomfortable. ‘Oh, um… well we don’t really, its just, good to have to hand is all…’ 

At these words Lavender looked suddenly interested, and whispered something to Parvati who put her hand to her mouth in slight shock, then grinned. 

Hermione looked at the two with suspicion but said nothing; she was used to their silly gossiping. 

‘Well I just hope that none of you do anything too crazy,’ she warned. ‘Remember it is never clever to play the same trick twice.’ 

They reached the Gryffindor common room and flopped down into the comfy seats, joining in with the chatter of excited students who were all discussing the morning’s events. Nobody seemed to be getting ready for the school day, and all seemed to have forgotten completely about lessons. It wasn’t until McGonagall came storming into the common room to ask what on earth they thought they were doing that the students made their way to lessons, those who had Potions on their day’s schedule actually looking forward to it for the first time in their lives. 

‘Harry, can I talk to you?’ asked the disapproving professor before Harry could leave for Charms, her lips in a thin line and hair escaping slightly from under her hat. 

‘Um, sure…’ he agreed hesitantly, not liking her expression. ‘I’ll catch you guys up later,’ he added to Ron and Hermione, who were hanging around in interest. 

‘I just wanted to warn you,’ began McGonagall once the portrait closed behind them, ‘that in regards to Professor Snape’s erm… performance this morning, that… well, that teacher-pupil relationships are absolutely-’ here her voice cracked as she tried not to laugh nervously, and Harry was now looking positively alarmed at what she was implying, ‘absolutely forbidden. So if you, err, well should you return his feelings…’ 

Harry flushed bright red. ‘Professor, how could you think- I mean, Snape! I…’ Then he couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing, and the Transfiguration teacher joined him. 

She put her hand out after a while, to stop his stutters. ‘Very well, I am glad you think that, Potter, although I never actually expected you to… well you know. It’s just that, it would be my job’s worth if I hadn’t warned you and you-’ 

Harry just stared at her. 

‘Right, well, off to lessons then,’ she ended briskly, cheeks tinged red, realising that she had said too much now. ‘Severus, too, knows fully the rules, but because of him not being in his right mind, and the circumstances behind it all…’ here she gave Harry a stony look, and he shuffled guiltily. ‘He is excused for his behaviour.’ 

Harry nodded. He felt that if he tried to speak he would just start laughing again. ‘I understand, professor,’ he managed finally, and with a tight smile, she turned on her heal and left the room. 


After lunch, the fifth year Gryffindors walked into the potions dungeon rather apprehensively, bracing themselves for whatever may happen. They were greeted by the beaming face of Professor Snape, who’s misty eyes sought out Harry’s, lighting up when he found their bright greenness. 

‘Harry!’ he exclaimed warmly, smoothing his hair back in what he thought was a sexy manner. ‘I have something for you Harry!’ And he took out a red rose from his pocket and flourished it in front of the amused Gryffindor with a smile that bared his magically sparkling (but still yellowish) teeth. His eyes showed such a want to please that Harry felt he had to take it.

‘Thanks, Sir,’ he said, as the other Gryffindors stifled their laughs. ‘What are we doing today?’ 

Professor Snape clapped his hands together happily. ‘We will be carrying on with our study of Love Potions my dear, dear boy! Learning the counter potion, and its properties!’ 

Lavender sighed. ‘Sir?’ she asked eagerly, and Snape turned to her with a goofy smile. ‘Sir, can we brew the Love Potion again instead? Only it didn’t go too well last time…’ 

‘Oh please,’ came a low, drawling voice, and Harry looked around to see Draco Malfoy and his fellow Slytherins coming through the door. ‘As if he’ll let you do it again when you were clearly incapable of making it the first time.’ 

Snape turned to face Malfoy with a scathing look that would never normally be seen on his face when talking to a Slytherin. ‘And that is where you are wrong, Mr Malfoy,’ the lovesick teacher said, beaming, and Malfoy’s look of complete indignation was something the Gryffindors would never forget. ‘Though I wish to serve Mr Potter’s desires today, so he shall decide what we shall do. Harry?’ he asked, smiling affectionately at him. 

‘I think we should re-do the potion, Sir,’ replied Harry, and Lavender looked smug as the rest of the Gryffindors nodded approvingly. 

‘Very well! Then that is what we shall do. To your seats, children!’ cried the potions master, hugging his emerald robe to his chest. 

‘But Sir-’ began Malfoy loudly. ‘Sir, you’ve been hoodwinked. You’re not really in love with Potter, he’s slipped you Love Potion, the very one that you are letting them make more of today! Sir, you hate Pothead and his Gryffindor gang of-’ 

‘Silence!’ growled Snape, his black eyes glittering as he looked down his hooked nose at Malfoy, who cowered slightly under his gaze, eyes full of shock. ‘You will do as I say! And NEVER insult Harry in front of me. I love him, he is ten times nicer and politer and greater than you will ever be Mr Malfoy. Fifteen points off of Slytherin for your cheek and insults.’ 

Malfoy’s cheeks were flushed a bright pink. ‘But-’ he spluttered, lip quivering. 

‘Don’t argue with me, go and sit down. And don’t be such a baby…’ he added, as Malfoy went into a pouty mouthed sulk. ‘You disgust me.’ 

With these words he left Malfoy muttering darkly to his shocked friends, and made his way over to Harry, Ron and Hermione with a satisfied smile on his face. ‘How are we doing, my friends?’ he asked lightly. ‘Aaaahhh, Miss Granger, that looks perfect! But Mr Weasley, Mr Potter…’ here he gave Harry a radiant smile ‘…yours needs a little work. Let me help you…’ 

It was the best potions lesson the Gryffindors had ever experienced. Snape was all smiles and compliments, even joking a few times. He helped Neville perfect his technique and praised Hermione sky high for her abilities, even joking that she is like a walking textbook. He also kept coming to sit by Harry, staring at him misty eyed, and occasionally correcting a mistake. 

‘Sir?’ asked Parvati. ‘Sir, can you check this for me?’ 

Snape looked at Harry. ‘Shall I?’ he asked, ‘I don’t really feel like abandoning you.’ 

Harry stifled a laugh. ‘It would make me happy if you went and helped her, Sir.’ 

Snape sighed. ‘Very well! Your wish is my command... Certainly Miss Patil,’ he called to Parvati, who flicked her long dark hair back in appreciation. 

‘Sir?’ came another call, this time from Malfoy. ‘Sir, can you check mine for me please?’ 

Snape jumped up and strode over to the smirking Slytherins, seething with annoyance and pulling up his sleeves, his mouth set in a thin line, and eyes glittering with distain. 

‘Rubbish,’ he muttered, breathing down Malfoy’s neck to look in his cauldron, as Malfoy paled and recoiled. ‘This is a useless attempt, and I will not help you,’ spat the annoyed teacher. ‘You insulted Harry.’ 

He moved along the benches, looking into the other Slytherin’s cauldrons. All except for Crabbe and Goyle had managed to brew the potion, but there were no praises for the Slytherins today. ‘No magazines allowed,’ he barked to Pansy, who had been reading ‘Witch Weekly’ while her potion stewed. ’Twenty points off of Slytherin.’ 

She jumped in fright and dropped the magazine on the floor, glaring at the professor. 

‘Daphne, I am displeased by your hairstyle, five points from Slytherin,’ continued Snape, smirking and turning to give Harry a triumphant wink. 

The Slytherins were outraged. ‘But Sir, you’re docking points off of your own house!’ complained Malfoy, still the only one daring enough to challenge their deranged head of house. 

‘Oh really?’ breathed Snape. ‘And do you think I care when there is something so much more beautiful pulsing in my heart…? Detention.’ 

He gave the astonished pupils a scathing glare before heading back to watch Harry lovingly, stopping along the way to answer a question from Dean. 

Malfoy glared daggers at his back, then turned to his cronies. ‘I’m fed up of this,’ he muttered. ‘The Gryffindors have gone too far! They need to be taught a lesson.’ 

‘I agree,’ simpered Pansy, patting Draco on the arm affectionately. ‘Poor Draky, he really is giving you a hard time.’ 

‘And you,’ added Daphne shaking her blonde curls, ‘he always lets us read stuff while waiting for potions to brew. And what is wrong with my hair?’ 

‘Nothing darling, don’t worry,’ said Pansy. ‘So what are we to do, Draky?’ 

Malfoy smirked. ‘Isn’t it obvious? That Pothead already came up with an idea. Only this time, they will be the object of humiliation.’ 

Pansy and Daphne’s eyes widened, and they looked at him admiringly. ‘Oh Draco you are clever!’ they simpered, whilst Crabbe and Goyle nodded and grunted like donkeys. 

‘Here, take these vials…’ said Malfoy, ‘Snape’ll never know…’ 

Near the front of the dungeon, Lavender and Parvati watched over their perfect potions, whispering and giggling behind their hands. ‘Here…’ squeaked Parvati, handing Lavender something that glinted in the pink light of the dungeon. Then she burst into another fit of the giggles, causing Seamus to look around at them both in amusement. 
‘This prank has been a huge success,’ commented Dean to Seamus, elbowing his friend in the side to stop him staring at the giggling Parvati. ‘I have a mind to do this again…’ 

Seamus looked at him in delight. ‘Could we, do you think?’ he asked quietly. 

Dean looked darkly over at the smiling, fluffy haired potions master. ‘Oh yes,’ he replied. ‘Snape is hilarious when in love, the perfect target!’ 

‘Well then,’ agreed Seamus. ‘Go get us some phials from the storeroom…’ 

Neville’s eyes gleamed happily as he stared at his first ever completed and entirely correct potion. ‘I might just keep some of this,’ he said to himself in wonderment. ‘As a keepsake, so to speak.’ 

Ron glanced at the potions master, who was too interested in praising Harry’s eyes to notice anything else. With a light whistle and an I-am-not-doing-anything-wrong look, he bottled some of his own potion and after corking the top, slipped it into his bag just as the bell rang. 

Snape looked up in astonishment and disappointment. ‘Is it really the end of the lesson already?’ he asked. ‘But we’ve been having so much fun!’ 

‘Yeah, that was the bell Professor. We need to get to our next class,’ said Hermione, packing up her stuff. 

Snape sighed. ‘Ahh, very well then, off you go,’ he said, and the dungeon rang with the many footsteps of people heading towards the door. 

Harry made to leave, but Snape called out. ‘Harry!’ He rushed over and took his hands, worry and sadness in his eyes. ‘When will I see you again?’ 

Harry grinned and patted him reassuringly on the arm. ‘At supper, Professor, so not long to wait.’ 

Snape beamed and gave him a hug, ignoring Ron’s sniggers and Hermione’s embarrassed coughing. ‘’Til later then, my lovely Mr Potter,’ ended Snape, beginning to hum in contentment as he watched Harry, Ron and Hermione leave the dungeon. 

He was so occupied with his love for Harry that he never noticed that many of the students’ cauldrons were almost empty of the Love Potion when they should have been full, nor that a considerable amount of phials had disappeared from his shelves. 

‘AAAH-LAA-LAAA-TRAA-LEEE-LOOOOOO,’ he sang, and the dungeon echoed with his happy song.

A/N: Before you review telling me so, I know that donkeys don’t grunt. But you see, Crabbe and Goyle’s laughs are mere grunts in a ‘haw-hee-haw-hee-haw’ kind of way, thus the grunted like donkeys expression. No insult meant to the donkeys of course! Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope this wasn’t too o.t.t. for anyone, nor too alarming! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! You guys are amazing! :D

Chapter 3: Absolute Chaos
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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.

Chapter 4: The Mayhem Continues
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Disclaimer: Rowling would never subject her characters to this much humiliation. Also, I do not own the borrowed lines you will come across. They belong to William Shakespeare, to whom I will give full credit at the end of the chapter. He was never one for spoilers, old Billy boy... Enjoy!

Chapter 4 – The Mayhem Continues

Professor Snape breathed heavily, gasping and spluttering as he attempted to free himself from beneath the bewitched caretaker and Ron Weasley’s tiny owl. With a huge effort he pushed them off his chest, flapping his arms madly and spitting out feathers whilst wrinkling his nose in disgust at the sharp tangy scent of Filch’s aftershave. The duo were hot on his heels, still intent on beating each other to the attentions of the terrified potions master as he stumbled across the room towards the door. Pigwidgeon was clasped in Filch’s weathered hands, nipping furiously at his fingers as he squeezed the owl tight, mouth stretched into a sickly sweet smile. Snape was afraid that the caretaker may kill the poor deranged bird if this were to continue much longer, and so he reached for his wand just as the owl escaped from Filch’s grasp, spinning around in the air and hooting provocatively.

‘Petrificus Totalus!’ bellowed Snape, his wand pointed directly at the panting caretaker.

For a moment, Filch stood absolutely still, his bulging yellow eyes shimmering with confusion. Then he swayed on the spot and fell with a thump to the ground, arms clasped tight to his side, wrinkled face frozen in a soppy grin.

Sighing with relief and mopping his brow, Snape stepped disdainfully over Filch’s fully bound body and turned his attentions to a gleeful Pigwidgeon who was hovering around his head lovingly, cooing softly. Smirking, he followed the bird’s movement with narrowed eyes, and lazily flicked his wand. ‘Immobulus.’

The owl paused in mid flutter, suspended harmlessly above his rival’s stiff body. Snape sneered appreciatively at his work, but then caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and scowled. He had red marks all over his face and his hair was sticking out at all angles. Worst of all, the tip of his pale hooked nose was pink. Seething, he straightened up his robes and smoothed down his rapidly greasing hair. First being forced to love Potter and now this... Snape had never let a student better him before and he was not about to let that happen now. He did not appreciate being made to feel like he was sixteen years old again, plagued by fear of constant humiliation. Students feared him, even those in his own house, and that was the way he liked it...

Anger pulsed through him as he recalled yesterday’s events. With one last futile attempt at disguising his blemishes, he swept out into the corridor and headed towards the Great Hall to complain to Dumbledore. He had forgotten, however, why he had decided to stay out of sight for the day in the first place, and as he blasted open the doors impatiently with his wand and marched up to join his fellow professors, he was followed by a wave of mocking chatter and laughter. Eyes glittering with menace he kept his head bowed beneath the hood of his cloak to ignore the sea of embarrassment, but therefore failed to notice that the attention was not all focused on him.

‘Headmaster things have gone far enough. I demand that you-’ He stopped in his tracks and stared at the sight that met his eyes, sure that he had stumbled into a bad dream. Professor Trelawney was levitating cross legged in front of McGonagall, above the bowls of cereal, blowing shimmering pink, heart-shaped bubbles from the tip of her wand. She was gazing avidly at the transfiguration teacher, whose cheeks were unnaturally flushed as she read aloud to Dumbledore from a flower patterned book, silver hair falling loose down her back.

‘...Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day. It was the nightingale, and not the lark, that pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear. Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree. Believe me, love-’

‘Excuse me?’ barked Snape with a loud cough, slapping both hands on the table in front of Dumbledore and feeling as if he might be sick. ‘What in the name of Salazar Slytherin...?’

‘Sssssh!’ hissed Trelawney impatiently, waving her wand at him and sending a cascade of soapy bubbles towards his face that promptly popped with a loud ping upon his swollen nose, ‘Minnie’s reading!’ Her normally measured voice had taken on an excited squeak.

‘Oh really...’ breathed Snape, giving her a withering look as McGonagall pouted her lips and pleaded ‘Alby?’ to a rather amused Dumbledore.

‘ALBUS!’ interrupted the indignant potions master, wondering if this day could get any worse.

‘Oh let her finish, Severus,’ smiled the headmaster, winking at the Deputy Head as she beamed at him gratefully and swooned under his sparkling gaze. ‘Come, sit down and listen. Shakespeare is a language we wizards can never match the magic of.’

His words were met by a chorus of agreement from the rest of the staff, who were red in the face and shaking in silent laughter, determined to play along with the effects of the love potion.

‘But this is ridiculous!’ spat Snape, directing his worst piercing gaze at Dumbledore. ‘They’re making absolute fools of themselves and disrupting the harmony of the school-’

‘Sent our dazzling young Mr Potter any flowers today, Severus?’

Snape’s sallow cheeks coloured as the staff chuckled. ‘That- That was... I... Oh shut up.’ He admitted defeat and went to sit down on an empty chair beside the headmaster, as from the other side of him McGonagall’s clipped, lilting voice read happily, ‘Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.’

‘You were saying, Severus?’ asked Dumbledore quietly between smiles, as she turned the page to begin reading another romantic poem whilst absentmindedly waving away the odd heart shaped bubble that floated in her way.

Snape scowled, but he was grateful to be able to mutter out his frustration.

‘Yesterday’s events were bad enough, headmaster, but this morning I awake to a love struck Filch and an obsessed bird, both of whom end up fighting over which of them holds stronger passion for me. I had to contain them before somebody got hurt... and now it appears that Minerva and Sybil have been affected too. This cannot go on, no matter how... amusing... you may find the situation. Love potions are a dangerous magic and I need to be able to unbind Filch and de-immobilise Weasley’s owl before it damages them. Not that it would make much difference...’

The headmaster wanted to burst out laughing at the image that was now in his head of the hooked nosed potions master and an in love grisly caretaker and crazy ball of an owl, but he did understand the seriousness of the situation. Classes could clearly not continue with his staff in such a state, and he had a good notion that some of the fifth year students would be too overcome by hormones to concentrate on work for the day.

‘I understand. What is it you propose to do to control the, ah, situation?’

‘I require the morning off to brew up enough counter potion. Can you grant me that?’

Dumbledore blew McGonagall a kiss to keep her happy, and observed Trelawney’s crown of flowers that she was currently making for the transfiguration teacher.

‘I shall propose that you, Sybil and Minerva all have the morning off. I think that would be best... If I remember correctly the fifth years have Transfiguration first period, followed by Potions? That should give enough time for this chaos to be sorted.’ His blue eyes lost their twinkle as they focused directly on Snape. ‘Students have a tendency to play a prank once in a while, Severus, but I expect my teachers to be able to keep a wary enough eye out for trouble. I’m relying on you to clear this mess up; because it is partly your fault that it has happened. Merlin only knows how!’

Snape regarded him coolly from beneath his hood. ‘Yes, headmaster,’ he replied, personally thinking he’d like to see Dumbledore try to act rationally whilst forced to be in love with someone he despises... the Dark Lord, for instance.

‘Very well,’ finished Dumbledore, eyes sparkling once again as he stood up and called for silence to address the body of excited and hysterical students: ‘I have an announcement to make... Due to certain unforeseen circumstances that may be apparent, all Potions, Transfiguration and Divination classes are cancelled until further notice. Please use this unexpected free time wisely and be sure not to disturb other lessons, all of which will take place as normal.’

He sat down, and accepted McGonagall’s offer of a hot cross bun as the students began to chatter once more, watching with a chuckle as Professor Snape slipped out unseen through the nearest side door.


Ron ran along the passageway past stuffed vultures and boar heads, unsure where he was going, but grateful to get away from the shrieking and cursing that was Ginny, Harry and Pansy. He reached a dead end blocked by a fancy tapestry depicting a duel between two wizards surrounded by centaurs, and panted to a halt. It didn’t take him long to regain his breath thanks to regular Quidditch training, and he reached out to pull the tapestry aside, hoping it was hiding a door like most Hogwarts hangings. It was, and with a grateful sigh he turned the doorknob and stepped through into the corridor outside the Great Hall, only to come face to face with Hermione and Malfoy again. The two were sitting in an alcove on a stone bench, snuggled together and giggling, Malfoy’s tongue clearly very un-langlocked.

Ron’s stomach froze. He thought he might throw up, but nothing inside him seemed to want to function.

‘Oy Ron, heard the news?’

All of a sudden the world came streaming back and he started at the sound of his brother’s voice. ‘What news?’ he asked George glumly, still staring at the horror that was Hermione and Malfoy.

‘Dumbledore’s cancelled Potions, Transfig and Divination!’

‘...Yeah, ‘cause somebody fed them love potion!’ The twins cackled gleefully and ran back into the Great Hall without noticing Ron’s misery, probably to gloat in the mayhem and see if they could make it worse.

‘Lessons are cancelled?’ Hermione’s shocked voice carried over the noise coming from the Hall, and Ron’s heart leapt as she ignored Malfoy completely to stare wildly around the corridor.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and pulled her to him reassuringly, stroking her hair to capture her attention again. ‘It’s alright ‘Mione, they’ll be back on again soon. Besides, that means more time for us to-’

Ron couldn’t bare it any longer. Gagging, he approached the couple, hand clasped around his wand and eyes full of fire. ‘Malfoy!’ he growled, ‘get away from her!’

Draco and Hermione looked up at him in surprise.

‘Ron!’ exclaimed Hermione, as he pointed his wand at her beloved’s throat. ‘What are you doing?!

‘Saving you from this scumbag,’ he answered between gritted teeth, while Malfoy’s terrified expression stretched to an amused grin.

‘You wish, Weasley!’ he said mockingly, gently extracting himself from Hermione’s arms. He took out his own wand and slipped off the bench to stand in front of Ron, staring him straight in the eye. ‘Look, Weasley, I know you hate me right now more than ever, but you have to understand this. I love Hermione. I’d do anything to make her happy, and right now she’s as happy as she can be. Now, I know we’ve always been enemies, but you’re one of ‘Mione’s best friends and I think we should be civil for her sake, don’t you think?’ He gestured to the bench behind him, where Hermione sat looking confused and hurt, brown eyes shimmering with tears.

Ron’s heart sank, if possible, even deeper, and he pocketed his wand, rage subsiding as he remembered this was all the potion’s doing. Fighting Malfoy or separating him and Hermione would not help matters but only make them worse.

Malfoy smirked and held out his hand in a gesture of friendship, blue eyes showing complete sincerity.

Ron just stared at him in disbelief and ignored his outstretched hand. ‘You’re bloody mental, Malfoy!’ he said with a dry laugh. ‘That potion’s really played with your head...’ And without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and headed purposely towards the dungeons. Something had to be done to stop this nightmare, and only one thing was going to do that... the counter potion. He had never been brilliant at potions in lessons, but then again he had never really cared to be, what with Snape’s biased attitude. Surely, under no pressure and with the aid of the text book he could succeed. After all, the love potion itself had been easy enough to brew the other day, with a bit of help from a love struck Snape. He was so distracted with his thoughts that he didn’t notice Dean, who was heading in the opposite direction, and bumped right into him.

‘Ouch!’ exclaimed Dean, rubbing his arm.

‘Sorry, mate!’ groaned Ron. ‘Didn’t see you there...’

‘That is apparent. Where you going in such a hurry? Harry, Ginny and Pansy are behind me somewhere, not you! In fact, last I saw, the girls duelled each other into the bathroom and Harry had to be kicked out by some annoyed prefect he was so eager to follow Pansy. He was singing to her through the door when I left...’

Ron stifled a laugh and wished he did not have his own problems to deal with and could go make fun of his friend. ‘I was heading to the dungeons... I just had another encounter with Malfoy and Hermione and it was not pretty. I have to make a counter potion, Dean, this prank has spiralled way out of control to beyond reason!’

Dean nodded seriously. ‘I know what you mean. Want me to come help? I’m not much better at Potions than you are, but it may be easier if there are two of us.’

For a moment, Ron considered accepting his offer. The prospect of brewing a potion alone was rather scary, especially as its end result had to be fed to his friends. On the other hand, Dean could be useful in another way. Pansy was still out there besotted with him and could burst in at any time. Plus he had no idea what Hermione and Malfoy were getting up to now that lessons were cancelled, though he could well imagine...

‘Nah I’ll be fine,’ he answered, running a hand through his ruffled hair. ‘But if you could do me a favour and somehow gather all the love potion effected couples to one place and keep an eye on them, that would be great!’

Dean frowned and glanced nervously along the corridor. ‘How am I supposed to do that?’

‘I dunno, use your creativity! Play another prank or something, or set up a party. Please? It will make it easier when we come to cure them all, too! And it’ll make me feel a lot happier knowing someone’s keeping an eye on where Malfoy puts his filthy hands. I need the calmest state of mind possible to brew this potion.’

His friend nodded, seeing the sense in the situation. ‘Fine... but if this turns out a disaster, don’t blame me! Best of luck with the potion brewing!’

‘Thanks mate!’ called Ron, already sprinting off along the corridor, footsteps echoing on the bare flagstones. He reached the potions lab’s arched door and heaved it open, shutting it carefully behind him. Warily, he glanced around the classroom, but Snape was nowhere to be seen and the walls glistened with an eerie silence, something dripping faintly in the distance.

‘Phew!’ he muttered, and made his way over to a spare empty cauldron. He had not expected Snape to be here if Dobby’s gossip had been correct about him, Filch and Pig, but the room always held a certain ominous presence that made you feel you were being watched.

He stared at the cauldron a moment, realising he had come completely unprepared. With another nervous look about the dungeon, he headed over to a cupboard and rummaged around for a copy of the fifth year text book. As expected, there was one, although it was rather befouled and mouse chewed. The pages were stained green but he flicked through them anyway, stopping at the section on love potions. Up until this point he had felt a huge sense of urgency in his mission, but as he headed through the storage room door to hunt for ingredients he forced himself to steady his thinking. It was dark in the gigantic cupboard, but with a wave of his wand he lighted a dusty lamp hanging from the ceiling. An orange glow cascaded around the oval walls as he raided their well labelled shelves, checking the book frequently to make sure he didn’t miss anything. Snape may not seem like the tidiest of people because he didn’t care about his own appearance, but when it came to his beloved potions the professor was extremely organised, something Ron was extremely thankful for right now.

‘Right,’ he said aloud, beginning to feel very much alone now that everything was set up as instructed. ‘How the bloody hell do you start this thing?’

He squinted down at the text book page, wishing the print was not so cramped. Still, began to read intently in the gloomy silence, attempting to get his head around the method.

Something brushed the top of his head with a sudden squeak, and he leapt to his feet in alarm, staring wildly around the room just in time to see a bat flutter into the shadows. He relaxed, patting his hair nervously, and felt a bit stupid for panicking so easily...

‘Well for a start I would try lighting the cauldron, Weasley,’ boomed a familiar, scathing voice.

Ron nearly knocked over his cauldron in shock. It couldn’t be… But from the very same dark corner of the room appeared Professor Snape, brushing down his robes disdainfully as Ron just stared at him open mouthed.

A/N:  Credit for the poetry McGonagall read aloud to Dumbledore goes to William Shakespeare, and the lines were of course from his famous play Romeo and Juliet.

Chapter 5: Highland Haggis and Other Beardy Secrets
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Disclaimer: "Oh my Rowling, what happened Harry Potter?" - Well, some fan decided to rewrite us in silly events...

‘I think that is quite possibly the hardest I have ever seen you stare at a textbook,’ continued Snape in cool amusement. He quickly sneered to cover up the fact that he was secretly impressed, sweeping his eyes over the neatly laid out ingredients. ‘What a pity you don’t show such an aptitude in class.’

‘You... you’re-’ stuttered Ron, blue eyes practically boggling out of his pale face.

Snape sighed deeply and had to actually stop himself from rolling his eyes. ‘Yes Weasley, I can turn myself into a bat. Not that it is any of your business... And speaking of business, what do you think you’re doing sneaking into my dungeon to brew potions unsupervised?’ He slapped his hands onto the desk, turning to face the terrified red head nose to nose, greasy hair flopping forwards over his still bruised cheeks.

Ron was quickly recovering from his shock, and decided to stand his ground. He even wanted to laugh because Snape looked as if he had a mild case of the Splattergroit, and happened to have only the day before been in love with Harry.

‘I’m not sneaking around, Sir,’ he said in annoyance. ‘Unlike you... coming in disguised as a bloody bat! As if you’re not scary enough already.’

Snape’s chest puffed out slightly at this pleasing accusation, but his cheeks flushed purple all the same. ‘Ten points from Gryffindor for talking back and use of foul language,’ he said breezily. This kind of reaction was second nature to him now.

Ron scowled and muttered something about love not making anyone softer hearted.

‘What was that?’ spat Snape.

‘Nothing, nothing...’ replied Ron hurriedly. He was in no mood to argue with Snape, and a sense of urgency had come rushing back as the image of Malfoy and Hermione came to mind, stabbing at his heart once more. ‘I came here to make counter potion if you must know, because... because...’ He hesitated, not wanting to explain the truth to the bitter professor, ‘...because if I don’t, things will get out of hand. Something has to be done, and fast.’

Snape stared at him for a second, experiencing brief déjà vu as he recalled saying pretty much the same thing to the Headmaster only moments ago.

‘Oh really?’ he inquired with suspicion. ‘I was under the impression that it was you and your silly little friends that were behind this ridiculous series of events...’

Ron looked indignant. ‘It was, but we never imagined this to happen! I- it...’

‘Well now you know how I feel!’ interrupted Snape. ‘The headmaster is blaming me, and Filch and your blasted bird... then there was yesterday...’ He stopped at the amused look on Ron’s face, realising that he was revealing too much to the arrogant Gryffindor. ‘Whatever Weasley, this has got too far out of hand and I’ve no time to stand about chatting. Get out of my way!’

Ron did not move, hovering behind the cauldron awkwardly as Snape confronted the textbook.

‘What’s the matter?’ the professor snapped, looking up at this idleness. ‘Gone deaf have we?’

‘No!’ Ron said loudly. ‘I just thought...’

‘Yes?’ asked Snape impatiently.

Ron shuffled his feet and shoved his hands in his robes pockets. ‘I just thought I could perhaps... help?’

Snape arched his eyebrows and pursed his lips tightly together, but Ron stood his ground. ‘It would make sense,’ he muttered. ‘I know you’re the expert and all that, but we need to get this done as fast as possible and in considerable amounts. If I help, the quicker everything will be sorted.’

There was a pause, in which you could practically see the grease gloop down Snape’s forehead to his ears.

‘Very well. But what you... brew, will be fed to Potter and his crew whilst I deal with the staff. If you poison your little friends, don’t come running to me for an antidote or expect me to cover your back, understood?’

Ron gulped. ‘Yes Sir.’ He hurried to the nearest cauldron whilst Snape bent over the one he had prepared, and began following the book once more.


Dean sighed and shuffled his feet nervously. ‘Right, err, so. If you all sit in a circle...’

The giggling pairs of love-struck couples ignored his instructions and continued to occupy themselves with their newly found hormones. The few who were not under the influence of love potion perched on desks laughing at their classmates’ antics, and somebody had let out a cage-full of partly transformed guinea pigs that ran squeaking and warbling underneath the chairs.

Dean thought it was a complete and utter shambles.

He had managed to send out a message to the fifth years suggesting they get together to play a huge game of truth or dare in McGonagall’s empty classroom, hoping it would get them all to the same place. And it had worked to a certain extent. They’d all agreed to come along... He just wasn’t sure how long they would stay interested. Pansy looked like she might escape to go find Ron at any moment if Ginny were to stop pointing her wand in her face, and Harry looked like he might burst soon and curse Ginny for threatening the ‘love of his life’...

‘I was a deprived child!’ he was screaming now. ‘I didn’t have a mummy and daddy like you did Ginny; I was locked in a cupboard with only spiders for friends. And believe me having eight legs and eyes does not make up for not being able to talk... I could be dead any day with Voldemort on the prowl. Just let me have the happiness I deserve with the one that I love!’

Ginny’s eyes filled with tears, but they did nothing to put out the fire blazing in their depths. ‘I’m the love of your life, Harry! You just haven’t realised it yet. She’s got the hots for my brother and your best friend. You can’t love her, she’s a- a- a- well her nose looks like a pig’s snout! She probably snores in bed. And during the day for that matter, listen to her snorting away now!’

Right on cue, Pansy snorted in disgust, but Dean thought it sounded more like a horse than a pig. He couldn’t believe this! It was hilarious to listen to, but at this rate he’d be better off under love potion himself than sitting around having to watch this lot bicker and... snog. He wrinkled his nose in disgust as Hermione and Malfoy started cooing like doves and nuzzling their noses together. This couldn’t go on any longer. He had to do something!

‘OY LOVERBIRDS!’ he yelled, springing up onto the nearest table and brandishing his wand in the air.

It worked. Every head in the room turned to face him, most of them gawping with their mouths slightly open having been interrupted mid argument or mid kiss.

‘Finally!’ Dean continued, cheeks flustered and hair dishevelled from running his fingers through it in frustration. ‘We’re going to play truth or dare.’ He kept his voice as loud as possible without actually shouting, so as to keep their wavering attention. ‘That means you get to make whoever you want do whatever you want,’ he wheedled, grinning as the group took in this information and started looking interested for the first time. ‘Everybody in a circle. I’ll spin my err... wand, to see who goes first.’

Peace finally descended on the classroom as the fifth years settled down cross legged in a circle around his table and stared at him expectantly, the couples holding hands and the singles glaring in frustration. They seemed to have put their fighting on hold in light of the opportunity to get revenge using the game. Dean rolled his eyes and scrambled off the table to stand beside it, placing his wand in the middle. He gave it a flick and it spun round in a golden whir, gradually slowing to a stop with its tip pointing at Goyle.

The hunk of a Slytherin hee-hawed like a donkey, then bared his teeth in a very mouldy grin. ‘I... dare... me...self to... kiss... Vinny,’ he grunted slowly and with great difficulty.

Dean didn’t know whether to be more amused by his misunderstanding of the game or the use of the name ‘Vinny’ in relation to Crabbe. It would have confused him as to who Goyle meant if he had not been staring goofily at his companion and already moving towards him.

The circle erupted in giggles like the rumbling of an aeroplane zooming across a summer sky, drowning out his protest at the rule-breaking. ‘Errr Goyle, that’s not really how it- oh ok never mind I see you’re already... careful you’ll knock Harry out!’

The boy who lived scooched out of the way just in time, but not before his glasses had been knocked askew by a stray elbow. Ginny immediately began to fuss and reach out to straighten them but he swatted her away as if she were an irritating fly. She sulked, pouting, and Dean hurriedly span his wand again, before a fight could break out.

‘Hermione, your turn next.’

‘Oooh!’ she squealed in a totally un-Hermione way, sitting up straight and preening her curls. ‘I dare Draco to tickle my ears!’

Even Harry’s jaw dropped at this statement and he took his eyes off Pansy to stare at his best friend as if she had turned into a slimy green alien. As for Dean, he nearly exploded and had to clutch his sides because they ached from laughing too much. He wished Ron had been here to hear her say that, but was also quite grateful his friend had been spared the hurt.

Draco hadn’t seen anything funny in Hermione’s choice of dare. He just proceeded to reach over and carry out the task, which the bushy haired bookworm seemed to find very relaxing; she was leaning back with a blissful smile on her face and even closed her eyes. A giggle escaped her lips and Dean hastily spun the wand again. This time it landed on Harry, who just dared Pansy to kiss him. She didn’t seem too happy about this, but decided he didn’t specify the details, giving him a quick peck on the cheek even though he tried to go full on. She flicked back her long black hair afterwards with a very audible ‘Hah!’, and laughed cruelly as he was left stupidly puckering up in the middle of the circle.

Dean soon became bored. All anybody would do was request the person they were bewitched to be in love with to kiss them. Watching Neville and Parvati was the worst of all, as for some reason it gave him a great clenching in his stomach like somebody had thrown him a punch and left him winded. Still, Ron clearly needed as much time as he could spare...

Suddenly the door was swung violently open and McGonagall flapped into the classroom, huffing and puffing, her hair still hanging loose down her back, robes ruffled, and clutching one hand to her magnificent hat that was nearly falling off her head.

‘Aaaaaah!’ she shrieked, dropping it as she took in the sight of her ransacked room and clutching at her heart instead. ‘Students! What are you doing in here?’

Dean had not expected their plan to be interrupted, but took the opportunity to tease the usually composed and strict transfiguration teacher. ‘Um, it’s a school, Professor?’ he offered with a wink.

‘Yes, yes, I know that! But here?’ she waved her arms vaguely about like a windmill. It was then that she noticed the positioning of the fifth years and the action going on around the wand on the table. ‘Is that a game of Truth or Dare?’ she asked, voice rising in pitch, her annoyance immediately fading away.

‘I foresee that you will play too, Minnie!’ came a floaty, dreamy voice from the doorway, and Professor Trelawney appeared, for some reason with a scarf wrapped around her head like an old lady at a muggle bus shelter. She seemed positively delighted at the idea of joining in with the game, and was clearly still under the influence of the love potion.

McGonagall groaned. ‘Must you always predict the future?’ she asked, patting her hair absently. ‘It’s becoming a very irritating habit you know. Most of us don’t want to know if we’ll die tomorrow, or if Filch will take a bubble bath in a nightcap, it’s quite unsettling!’

Trelawney giggled. ‘Oh Minnie you do say the strangest things! Let’s go play, I haven’t seen you take a dare since that night we all had a little too much firewhisky in the staff room and Snape bet you couldn’t-’

‘Sybil no! Shhhh!’ McGonagall’s eyes widened in horror as every one of the students stopped what they were doing to stare at the two teachers, ears pricked.

‘...couldn’t dance the Highland dance on the table wearing a kilt and stockings and balancing a haggis on your head.’

Laughter roared around the room and McGonagall blushed bright red.

‘Did you really do that, Professor?’ asked Harry. He scruffed up his hair at the same time, trying to impress Pansy with his boldness.

‘I- er... well,’ stuttered McGonagall. ‘That is to say I...’

‘She was marvellous!’ piped up Trelawney, hovering around her and quivering, whilst clapping her hands together in praise. ‘It was the most dashing thing I have ever seen. I would love to dare her to do it again!’

‘But Sybil, I have to go and err, do something...’ McGonagall was twirling her fingers in her hair and attempting to sneak towards the door. ‘Albus said he was-’

Trelawney’s eyes flashed, and she let out a hysterical giggle. ‘Oh no, no, no, Minnie! The headmaster has gone swimming in the lake. I foresaw that he would this morning darling. You needn’t bother him.’

‘Don’t be stupid,’ smiled McGonagall. ‘You’re just jealous. I know you are because Alby doesn’t swim in the lake. It’d wrinkle his-’

‘Ahh Professor?’ interrupted Dean loudly, before she could reveal any more. ‘Why don’t you fetch Professor Dumbledore and you can all play the game!’ He eyed her keenly, conscious of the fact that if he got the teachers to join in, it would be all the more easy to administer the counter potion because they wouldn’t have to go on a hunt for them as well.

McGonagall stared at him with wide eyes. Then her smile spread further across her face and she looked as if she might hug him. Dean stepped back just in case.

‘Yes!’ she exclaimed. ‘Yes that’s a marvellous idea! 50 points to Gryffindor for suggesting it. Alby? Albus?’ She pushed past Trelawney to the door and leaned out into the corridor calling his name.

Dean sighed wearily, his diaphragm aching uncontrollably. This love potion seemed to have effects other than just passion; everybody was acting so silly with it too! He was surprised at how fast the transfiguration teacher moved away from the door to reveal Dumbledore stepping in from the corridor as if she had summoned him using ‘accio’. For a moment the older wizard surveyed the scene in the room with a certain displeasure and Dean remembered with a jolt that unlike McGonagall and Trelawney the Headmaster was not under the influence of Amortentia. He hoped they wouldn’t be in trouble for this...

‘Oh, truth or dare...’ commented Dumbledore, amusement shining in his bright blue eyes. ‘It has been a while since I indulged in such activities.’

McGonagall let out a high pitched, nervous giggle. ‘I thought you might like to join in, Alby!’ she said, battering her eyelashes at him whilst still trying to maintain her usual prim, no nonsense stature.

Dean snorted as Dumbledore patted her gently on the shoulder. ‘I thank you for your consideration Minerva, the idea quite positively delights me.’

He turned and gave Dean a wink. McGonagall beamed and danced forwards towards the slightly disrupted circle of fifth years, and as the headmaster followed, he paused by him and muttered ‘Good distraction. Everything’s under control, I presume?’

Dean raised his eyebrows. He wondered if there was anything the wise old wizard didn’t know. ‘Uhh, yes Sir. Ron’s brewing counter potion right this minute, he should be along soon enough.’

‘Good, good,’ mumbled Dumbledore, and let himself be pulled onwards by an eager McGonagall, Trelawney following at their heals like a besotted puppy.

Dean felt as if he were in a disturbing dream that was impossible to awake from. He stepped back into the centre of the circle to take up his position as the game co-ordinator, and spun the wand once more.

It landed on Draco, who for once wasn’t interested in snogging Hermione. Instead his eyes gleamed with wickedness as he eyed up the headmaster. ‘I dare Professor Dumbledore to shave off his beard,’ he said with a smirk.

Nearly everybody in the circle gasped, and Hermione promptly kissed him for his ‘silly ideas’. He pushed her away gently and fixed his gaze back on Dumbledore in challenge as if expecting him to refuse.

The headmaster blinked, his expression stuck in a neutral smile. He sighed. ‘If that is what you wish for me to do, Draco, I will of course oblige.’

McGonagall’s eyes lit up and she clapped her hands together in delight. Around the circle a chant of: ‘shave, shave, shave, shave...’ began to ring out as Dumbledore raised his wand to his chin, waving his other hand in vague amusement and dismissal.

Dean could only gape as the long white whiskers began to shrink and disappear into thin air like dandelion heads blowing in a strong breeze. He rubbed at his eyes. This diversion plan had suddenly got a lot more interesting...

A/N: It's been a year since this chapter was first posted. To those who've been following this story from then or its beginning, I am truly sorry you're still waiting for more! I promise all of you the next and final chapter is coming - I just edited these previous 5 chapters because my sentence structure skills have improved vastly since I first started writing :P I shall complete and post the ending in the next week or so, though. Many thanks for your support, and any new feedback is always appreciated!
Rosai :)
P.S. yes that was a quote from A Very Potter Musical in the disclaimer... <3

Chapter 6: Of Bauble Truths And Reluctant Sock-Things
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Disclaimer: If I were Rowling, I'd have probably put a stop to this nonsense by now! You may also recognise a short line from a well known phenomenon in the world of various Potter fanstuffs. Once again I shall give full credit at the end to avoid spoilers ahead of time. Enjoy!

Snape couldn’t help but sneak glances at Ron as they both brewed the counter potion step by cautions step. That meddlesome Weasley had pulled off his jumper and rolled up his sleeves in a very pretentious way and his hair was stuck up at all angles, reminding Snape strongly of fresh carrot peel. But much as he hated to admit it, Snape couldn’t help but notice that the boy was showing admirable ability considering the task at hand. Perhaps he had been too hard on those who were not in his own house…

‘Sir – isn’t the potion supposed to be steaming now?’

Snape snapped out of his thoughts like a toad snatching a fly. ‘What?’ he spat, looking into Ron’s cauldron with a wrinkled smirk. ‘Yes, that’d be the colourless vapour rising from it now, Weasley – going blind are we?’

Ron ignored the insult to concentrate back on the textbook, staring at it hard enough to burn holes in the page. ‘I meant yours, Professor,’ he clarified with a small smirk of his own. He continued to mutter the next set of instructions whilst Snape snorted loudly and turned back to his own steam-less cauldron. That was the third time Ron had caught the potions master off his guard and it was a very unsatisfying feeling. Surprising, what he was able to do when he put his mind to it and wasn’t cowering with fear…

‘Watch this, Mr Weasley, and learn,’ said Snape loudly, with a hint of impatience. He reached for his ladle and stirred the liquid in a zigzag manner as if in slow motion, stopping every three strokes to let the surface settle.

Ron looked on in quiet fascination, only slightly disappointed as a silver swirl of mist began to rise from that cauldron too. ‘Lucky guess again,’ he said jovially. ‘Better be more careful Sir or you’ll be unable to fix it next time and you’ll poison the poor staff.’

‘Why you-’

Ron stepped hastily away, stifling his chuckles with the sombre thought of Hermione still kissing Malfoy. Fun as it was to goad Snape and actually excel at his worst subject for once, this was not the time to dawdle. Smile fading to a determined frown he picked up a pestle and began grounding a quarter of moonstone – the last ingredient to be added before stewing could begin.

A pin would have felt awkward dropping in the silence that followed Dumbledore’s completion of his dare. Everybody was staring at him, mixed expressions scattering the circle as he sat there twiddling his wand, completely and utterly beardless. The usual twinkle still shone in his eyes, highlighting his round, pink cheekbones, but it did not fail to hide the many creases and wrinkles mapping their way across his wise old expression.

It was Professor McGonagall who broke the atmosphere. She let out a loud squeak of horror and rushed to his side to look closer at his face as if willing the whiskers to begin sprouting again.

Trelawney beamed in triumph. ‘See? SEE?’ she shrieked. ‘He’s nothing without his beard, look at his naked nostrils – you wouldn’t want to get close to that now Minnie dear, would you?’ She began to giggle and let out tiny hiccups whilst stroking her own chin as if to mock the situation. ‘She’ll soon see sense and look to me for love,’ she added knowingly, nodding at a rather shocked Harry. He shuffled backwards into Ginny and immediately regretted doing so, as she clasped him tightly around the waist with one arm and began running her other hand through his hair, crooning softly and shushing his protests.

Laughter now echoed around the classroom and several of the students were rolling about on the floor or gasping and clutching their sides. Dean still couldn’t stop staring at Dumbledore, forgetting completely that he was in charge of the game, and Draco was looking extremely pleased with himself for suggesting such a rebellious act to their respected headmaster.

‘Err ok,’ began Dean finally, as some of the love-struck couples began turning to each other again. ‘Very well played Draco… and hats off to Professor Dumbledore for taking the dare so admirably.’ He paused as Seamus spluttered ‘shouldn’t that be beards off?’ and looked determinedly away from the sight of Neville and Parvati curled up together holding hands.

‘Yes, yes, quite…’ he said, ‘thank you Seamus. Now Headmaster, it’s your turn to ask somebody. I’ll spin the wand as usual, but this time you have to go with whoever it lands on. Put’s a bit of an edge on the game that way. Oh, and does anybody have any veritaserum by any chance?’

Unsurprisingly nobody answered this question, and most looked blank or confused.

‘No? Didn’t think so… Oh well, we’ll just have to play ‘truth’ the trusted way then. If anybody ever chooses that option, that is...’

‘Get on with it!’ called Lavender. ‘I want to see some more action if we’re forced to sit around here all afternoon…’

‘You do, do you Lav?’ responded Seamus, reaching out to tickle her sides.

‘Minnie- I mean, um, Minerva, please!’ protested Dumbledore on the other side of the circle, pushing her hands away from his face gently. ‘It’s not going to grow back if you keep touching it…’ He gave Dean a huge wink and gestured that he should continue with the game.

Dean hastily spun his wand again. It landed on Trelawney, who made a great deal out of the situation, boasting that she could predict Dumbledore’s move and that she could do a far better job of things than he did.

‘Headmaster?’ prompted Dean with a slight sigh of exasperation. He silently prayed that Ron was nearly ready with the potion, because he didn’t think he could stand much more of this…

‘Sybil – truth or dare?’

Trelawney batted her eyelashes beneath her ridiculously thick goggles. ‘Wouldn’t you love to know!’ she said in a cool, husky tone.

Dumbledore sighed. ‘Yes, yes, we’re all longing to hear you predict your own answers, my dear.’

McGonagall gave a snort, and Trelawney scowled. ‘Fine – I too shall take a dare, for I can predict that truth is seldom interesting and answers already find me from the beyoooooond!’ She gestured dramatically towards the ceiling then fixed her gaze on the headmaster, head slightly tilted to one side. ‘You were saying?’

‘I was saying nothing, as a matter of fact, but nevertheless it is my turn to speak. You choose dare, and I say this: I dare you not to make another prediction for the rest of the day.’

Most of the students looked disappointed by this request, but Trelawney seemed rather amused. ‘Really Albus, is that all?’ she said loftily. ‘I expected far more from you. Don’t you think that-’

‘Are you saying you can’t complete my dare?’ interrupted Dumbledore, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

‘Oh no!’ exclaimed Trelawney. ‘No, I was merely saying that it was rather easy…’ she turned her misty eyes on McGonagall. ‘I was hoping to impress Minnie here with something dashing. I can predict that-’

‘Sybil!’ exclaimed McGonagall, as everyone around the circle laughed and shushed.

Trelawney put a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh dear, silly me! Of course, I was just testing you Albus,’ she said with a light giggle. ‘I accept the challenge and shall predict no more out loud.’

A chorus of mutterings filled the room as it was quietly debated for how long Trelawney would last before predicting again. Dean spun his wand and Trelawney had to ask Hermione a truth because she was too preoccupied with Draco to want to attempt a dare. The divination professor didn’t seem to care much about Hermione’s life and merely asked what her opinion on baubles was. Hermione looked slightly taken aback as she replied ‘Well, they’re alright I suppose. They give Christmas a bit of a cheer but look rather funny out of season…’

‘But what about my baubles, ‘Mione?’ smirked Malfoy, pretending to be offended.

Dean groaned. Ron had been gone for over two hours now and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold the fort in here. Perhaps he should go find out how it was going…

‘I dare Professor McGonagall to give us a sock puppet show with Professor Dumbledore,’ Harry said suddenly.

‘But it’s not even my turn!’ she exclaimed, and for a moment looked just like her usual no-nonsense self.

Hermione reached into the centre of the table and gave Dean’s wand a shove. It whizzed about and finally slowed to a stop, pointing to McGonagall.

‘What Harry said…’ Hermione directed sweetly, before turning back to give Draco a kiss.

‘I pick truth though!’ McGonagall protested.

‘Please Professor!’ wheedled Harry. ‘I never saw anything like that when I was a kid – you know how the Dursley’s treated me…’ he pouted slightly and pretended to be close to tears. ‘I bet Professor Dumbledore would be happy if you let me have this moment of happiness.’

‘Well, I suppose…’ McGonagall still seemed to hold doubts, but one glance at her precious ‘Alby’ was enough to get her smiling again.

‘I would be delighted to assist,’ he said, voice slightly higher than usual as if he were trying not to choke. ‘This may be a while, Dean, do you wish to sit down?’

Dean saw something more reflected in the headmaster’s serious blue gaze and immediately understood. ‘No thank you Professor, however I might just pop out to the bathroom…’

‘Of course,’ replied Dumbledore. ‘I can take care of things here.’

Dean was only remotely disappointed to be missing the sock puppet performance.

‘Be right back,’ he said gratefully, and made a dash for the door.


‘I have to say Weasley that my past judgement of your skills with the delicate art of potion brewing may have been a little… off.’ Professor Snape stared down his nose at Ron’s cauldron, which was simmering with many tiny bubbles and looking exactly like the somewhat stained illustration in the text book. ‘Granted you took longer than myself to complete the result, but unfortunately your immense precision has to be noted.’ He pulled up his sleeves and tried to ignore the look of triumph that flashed across Ron’s face. ‘Yes, yes… Now hurry up and transfer it to a large flask, we haven’t got all day!’ He already regretted opening his mouth, and getting impatient helped him feel more his usual critical self.

Ron wasn’t quite sure if he was dreaming, but hurried to do as he was told. First all the ridiculous consequences of the love potion prank and now Snape was dropping him compliments? He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair to smooth it down, immensely aware that he must look a complete mess.

‘Come on, Weasley,’ called Snape, already at the door. ‘We have an owl to cure…’

Ron nearly choked on a sudden burst of laughter. He’d almost forgotten about Pig and Filch. ‘Yes Sir,’ he replied, corking his flask and hurrying after the potions master.

The corridor outside the potions lab was dimly lit, and as usual it was difficult to see very far ahead. Snape had disappeared into the darkness and Ron only caught a glimpse of his silvery outline now and then as he followed behind using his own wand light to show the way.


Ron nearly jumped out of his skin. ‘Whazzup?’ he exclaimed stupidly, and broke into a sort of jog. ‘Professor, is everything alright?’

He rounded a corner and stopped short at the sight that met his eyes. A very dizzy Filch had come looking for Snape, and had clearly just fought off the body-binding spell he’d been subjected to earlier. Wheezing loudly and still dressed to impress, the caretaker had locked Snape in a tight embrace and was currently stroking his back and muttering terms of endearment. The poor potions master had no choice but to stay still as a statue and wait out the affection.

‘I’ve been looking for you for ages, Sevvy dear!’ Filch explained, finally stepping back, but not letting go of Snape’s arm.

Ron couldn’t help but splutter in laughter. Sevvy dear? he mouthed to a fuming Snape, who glared daggers at him in the odd lighting.

‘Yes, well, I’ve been busy haven’t I, Filch?’ replied Snape between gritted teeth.

‘Oh I know Sevvy dear, I know… you’re an important member of this institute and the best at your profession!’

Snape coughed lightly and Ron could well imagine him blushing in the darkness. ‘Thank you Argus, that’s very nice. Now if you would-’

‘And all the students fear you so much!’ continued Filch, his eyes filling with tears of admiration. ‘You’re the only one I know sees it my way. If only we were in charge of discipline my lovely we’d have this whole school top of the league in no time!’

‘Right, ah yes, um Filch, would you like a drink?’

Ron raised his eyebrows as Filch contemplated Snape’s strange offer. Could it really be that easy…?

‘Ehhhh nice one my lovely!’ smiled Filch, ghastly bronze fillings glinting between slimy teeth. ‘But I’m not thirsty for anything but you today.’ He pushed the flask of potion back into Snape’s hands, and stepped forwards, puckering up his lips. The flask did not appreciate this tone of refusal and fell to the floor with a light smash. 

A sort of gagging noise came from Snape’s throat. ‘I see,’ he managed to croak out, apparently lost for ideas now. His foot narrowly missed Ron’s as he stepped backwards to escape the physical contact, and Ron saw him reaching for his wand…

‘Ron is that you?’ There came a sudden beam of light from up ahead and Dean emerged round the corner, eyes wide as he noticed Snape and Filch blocking the corridor.

‘Yes I’m here!’ Ron called, as Snape let out a sigh of relief at the distraction.

‘Where?’ asked Dean, voice cracking at the hilarity of the situation. ‘Hello Filch, Professor Snape, Sir. What are you two doing hiding out down this deserted corridor?’

He and Ron stifled their chuckles as Snape scowled and Filch’s cheeks flushed deep red in the wand light.

‘Snape was just offering Filch a drink, weren’t you Sir?’ explained Ron. ‘But Filch doesn’t feel the need for a pick me up…’

‘I see!’ replied Dean, eyes glimmering with understanding as he noticed the flask in Ron's hands and the spillage of something similar at Filch's feet. ‘You know, there’s a huge party happening in the transfiguration classroom right now. Even Trelawney, McGonagall and the headmaster are there enjoying the fun – perhaps you could treat Snape to something there instead, Mr Filch?’

Ron started at Dean in amazement. Had he really managed to get the love-sick professors in one place as well? That was way more than he could have hoped for…

‘A party, you say?’ asked Filch, scratching his ear, eyes still on Snape.

‘Yes – quite the romantic atmosphere,’ confirmed Dean, attempting to keep a straight face, his lips quivering as a result.

‘I’m sure you’d love to go with Filch, wouldn’t you Professor?’ prompted Ron, tempted to nudge the horrified teacher in the ribs.

‘I- well,’ stammered Snape. He suddenly seemed to understand what the boys were trying to do and turned to Filch with a forced smile. ‘It would be my pleasure.’

‘Good, well that’s settled then…’ said Dean, winking at Ron. ‘I’ll show you both the way while Ron goes to get more drinks, yes?’

‘Sure,’ agreed Ron. ‘Pumpkin Juice and Butterbeer do the trick?’

‘Perfect,’ grinned Dean. ‘See you soon, mate! And try not to be too long!’

Snape's head swivelled briefly backwards, and his eyes bore into Ron's as if warning him his potion had better do the trick now one batch was useless.

‘Spiders couldn’t get me to move quicker…’ muttered Ron, following them through the lower levels of the castle before turning off in the direction of the kitchens.


‘…And then the transfiguration teacher fell in love with the Headmaster.’ McGonagall moved her arm along the back of the table so that her tartan sock puppet moved closer to Dumbledore’s blue starry one, fingers clasped together in a pointed, puckered position.

‘Boring!’ called Draco as Harry yawned and several other students rolled their eyes.

‘Give us something fun… with song!’ demanded Seamus.

‘But I-’

McGonagall’s protests were interrupted by the door opening. In stepped a grinning Dean followed by Filch and Snape holding hands. They stopped short at the sight of McGonagall and a beardless Dumbledore sitting on the floor behind a desk, bare feet stretched out in front of them and socks on their hands.

‘Severus, Argus, come join in the fun!’ exclaimed Trelawney, who was apparently greatly enjoying attempting to tickle McGonagall’s feet with a levitating feather.

Filch looked slightly confused, and raised one eyebrow. Had he been in his right mind he would probably have run a mile or gagged at the situation. ‘This is the party?’ he asked, turning to Snape as if checking he really wanted to be there.

Snape gritted his teeth and nodded, which put the caretaker back into a contented reverie. ‘Apparently so… Need any help, headmaster?’ he asked, eyes glittering with disdain.

‘No, no, sit down and make yourself comfortable Severus. Professor McGonagall and I are just performing a little show for Mr Potter and his friends.’ He directed his gaze at Dean, who was trying not to laugh for about the hundredth time that day. ‘I trust there is not much longer until the end of the entertainment?’

‘Ron’s gone to get drinks,’ said Dean. ‘He’ll be back soon with butterbeer and pumpkin juice.’

‘Excellent,’ replied Dumbledore, touching his chin with a socked hand as if he had forgotten there was no longer a beard to stroke.

‘Get on with the show!’ called Seamus again, because Lavender was still hankering after ‘action’.

The two professors looked at each other. Dumbledore shrugged and McGonagall leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

‘If we must…’ he replied, readjusting his hand within his sock.

Beside him, McGonagall did the same. They opened their mouths and took deep breaths, then began to make them dance up and down.

‘Singing our song, all day long at Hoooooooogwarts!’ they sang in unison.

There came a loud, considerably male shriek from Harry’s side of the classroom, which made several people jump.

‘What now?’ complained Seamus, glaring at Harry for interrupting the song.

The famous Boy Who Lived didn’t seem to care. He was nearly at the door and fighting off a giggling Ginny who was apparently trying to stop him from leaving but kept getting distracted by his ‘springy’ hair.

‘Mr Potter, where do you think you’re going?’ boomed Snape automatically, forgetting this was not class time, and that any of them could leave if they wished to.

‘Yeah, come back Harry!’ called Dean desperately, worried that everything would get out of control if anybody escaped before Ron returned with the counter potion.

‘No!’ yelled Harry. ‘Pansy’s gone somewhere and I want to find her!’

‘But you want to be with me!’ reminded Ginny, pouting and flicking her hair about in what was supposed to be a seductive way.

‘Wait- Pansy’s gone?’ said Dean, glancing hurriedly around the room and realising Harry was right. A sinking feeling made its way from his throat to his feet, leaving something squiggly in his stomach. If Pansy had left then she must have gone to find Ron, and if Ron didn’t make it back here with the drinks…

‘Oh no!’ he groaned, and pushing Harry roughly out of the way, rushed madly out into the corridor.

A/N: Ok, I might have ended up extending this story a wee bit. Just to clarify, this was going to be the final chapter but I decided to add a little bit of extra drama and tension towards the climax just to keep it interesting :P There shall be one more chapter to go, and that one will be the last in this mad mayhem of a story! I hope it shall not be long in coming, I know exactly what will happen and should be able to complete and post it within the next week or so. Many thanks for sticking with me on this ridiculous journey! Feedback appreciated as always, even if you think the characters would never ever act this way and it's getting too silly!

Finally, yep, I had McGonagall and Dumbledore start acting a bit from the Potter Puppet Pals 'Mysterious Ticking Noise', and the song they attempted to sing was indeed taken from that widely popular video. If you haven't seen it yet, youtube it straight away because it's something every Potter fan should see.

Rosai :)