(no subject)
Title: Trouble Brewing
Author: trobairiz
Rating: PG
Summary: What happens when a detention Snape gives the trio involves scrubbing the remains of a powerful love potion out of a few dozen cauldrons?
Notes: SPOILER ALERT! Alludes to happenings in DH. Oneshot. Set around the time of GOF.
This is my absolute first fanfic ever.
Trouble Brewing
It sometimes seemed to Harry Potter that the one place in all of Hogwarts he could be absolutely sure of winding up on practically a monthly basis was his least favorite place of all: detention in the dungeon with his irascible potions master, Severus Snape.
“Bloody git!” hissed Ron as he stumbled sleepily behind Harry. “Detention at midnight, the night before everyone in our year has a three foot long essay due in Charms. What does Snape think he’s playing at?”
“Ronald, I cannot believe you’ve left that essay until the last minute. We’ve had a whole month to work it out!" Hermione Granger was feeling more peevish than usual. She wasn’t looking forward to staying up half the night in the coldest part of the castle, especially to serve a - a - well, she could barely even bring herself to form the word in her mind.
Ron sensed her thoughts. “Not much used to detention, are you, Hermione?” He smirked, choosing to gloss over her comment about his essay.
“Honestly, Ron, you say that as if it’s a bad thing!”
“Bad enough we’re in detention because Draco Bloody Malfoy lobbed some newts’ eyes into our cauldron when Snape’s back was turned. Madame Pomfrey said it could take up to two weeks for the green to fade from everyone’s hair. Now I’ve got to listen to you two argue the whole time,” Harry griped.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but Ron chortled. “It’s nearly worth it to have seen Snape’s face when our potion blew up half the room though. Green isn’t bad on me, eh?” He strutted a bit, causing Harry to nearly choke with laughter. Even Hermione smiled. “Malfoy looks a right prat though.”
“That’s hardly unusual,” Harry retorted.
Once the trio reached the dungeon they stood outside the door of the potions classroom elbowing and shuffling, each trying to make it so one of the others had to knock on the door.
“This is ridiculous,” Hermione hissed.
“You do it then.” Ron put his hand on the small of her back and shoved her forward a bit. Immediately, hot color bloomed all the way up to his ears, making his oddly striped hair look even more ludicrous. Harry kindly affected not to notice.
“You’re late.” The door opened before she could knock.
“Prof-Professor, it’s only-“she attempted.
“One minute after twelve. That’s another five points from Gryffindor.” Harry was certain that Snape was enjoying this. He opened his mouth to retort, but a glare from Hermione made him change his mind.
“You will be scouring these cauldrons,” Snape intoned, indicating a pile stacked halfway to the ceiling. “Without magic. I expect them to be spotless when I return. Do not touch anything from my personal stores. Good evening.”
He swept from the room before Harry or Ron could cheek back. Which, Hermione pointed out, was probably the first favor he’d ever done them.
“Might as well get started.” Ron kicked gloomily at the pile. “What a mess - this lot is left over from George and Fred’s double potions this afternoon.”
“What was the lesson?” Hermione was practically kneeling in one of the students’ cupboards in an attempt to come up with some rags with which they could properly clean the cauldrons.
“A love potion,” Ron answered. “Forget what it’s called. It’s got something to do with everybody being able to tell what’s most important to you by what it winds up smelling like. George told me at dinner. He was awfully embarrassed.”
Hermione gasped, nearly banging her head as she whirled to face him. “Do you mean Aperio Diligo?”
Ron nodded.
That’s a really powerful potion,” Hermione explained. “Aperio Diligo, or Love Revealed, is a concoction that through its scent reveals what is most beloved to you.” As usual, Hermione sounded exactly as if she were quoting word for word from a book. “It’s a potion that’s usually done on one’s own, obviously, as anyone near you would be able to smell what you..." She bit her lip, flushing, as she hefted the nearest cauldron onto a table and stuck her head inside.
“Blimey!” gasped Ron. “You mean the whole class can smell…?” He broke off, embarrassed. “I say, mates, remind me to skive off that day!”
Much to the boys’ surprise, Hermione, who was still slightly pink in the face, was nodding in agreement.
“Fancy Snape having them brew love potions!” Harry whistled. “Honestly, if Neville ever manages to transfigure a teacup into a gerbil I’ll be less amazed.”
Ron grinned. “Fred said Snape mentioned something about learning your enemies’ greatest weakness. Trust Snape to see love as a bad thing.”
“I - I kind of feel sorry for Snape,” Hermione said quietly after a minute.
The boys were agog.
“No, honestly, it must be really sad to have never…” her voice trailed off, and she quickly commenced polishing in order to avoid looking at either of her friends.
Harry snorted to break the tension in the room. “I didn’t know a bit of green hair would turn you Slytherin, Hermione!” he teased. He ducked quickly to avoid the rag she sent sailing in his direction.
After what seemed like hours to the exhausted, freezing Gryffindors, only two cauldrons remained. After a brief hesitation, Harry selected a new rag and the bigger cauldron. “This is mostly my fault. If I hadn’t tried to jinx Malfoy at dinner last week he wouldn’t’ve tried to blow us up in class.”
Hermione picked up final cauldron. “Ron, now’s a good time to finish up that Charms essay.”
Ron groaned as he thanked her. “Looks like I won’t be sleeping tonight.”
Hermione opened her mouth to tell him off but was distracted by a noise from the corner of the room.
“Harry?”
“Hmmm?”
“I didn’t know you liked classical music.”
“Huh?” Harry, who was leaning over so far into his cauldron that his head was no longer visible, straightened up with a puzzled expression.
“What you were humming just now….”
Harry shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you what it’s called, or how I know it.”
“It’s a children’s song. A lullaby,” explained Hermione.
Harry brushed it off. “Must’ve heard it on one of the batty programs Dudley watches on telly. He has that thing blasting day and night. Even double potions is better than my aunt and uncle’s.”
Hermione nodded in commiseration, simultaneously making a face at her cauldron. “I hate the smell of lavender, and I don’t much like coffee either. They’re positively repulsive together. Trade you, Harry?”
“No!” Harry’s response was so abrupt that Hermione looked a bit hurt. “Sorry. I didn’t - it’s just -” he shuffled his feet.
“What? What is it?” Always on the lookout for an excuse to stop doing an essay, Ron abandoned his Charms work and crowded between Harry and Hermione, who had wandered over to see what the fuss was about.
“Maybe it’s Diggory’s cauldron.” Ron was smirking. “He has double potions with Fred and George. I wonder what - or should I say who - his Aperio Diligo smells like.”
“Shut up, Ron! I don’t fancy- I don’t know what it is, I just like how it smells, all right? It’s comforting, like.” Harry was so clearly embarrassed that even Ron couldn’t bring himself to take the mickey anymore.
Hermione tried to help Harry save face. “It smells like roses and honeysuckle, mostly. A bit like talc, too. It’s a Muggle perfume. My neighbor wears it.” Her brow furrowed. “It is quite nice, but I don’t reckon it smells like anyone we know.” Her voice became brisk as she hurried back to her task. “Ron, best put away your Charms homework, Snape should be back-“
“Potter, I thought I told you not to touch anything in my personal stores.”
Harry, Ron and Hermione whipped around. Snape’s wand was out. His voice was a hiss; angrier than the students had ever heard him.
“I didn’t know yours was mixed in with this lot!” Harry gestured furiously at the cauldron he had been scouring for the past half hour. Instinctively, Hermione and Ron stepped in front of him, as Snape cursing Harry seemed frighteningly imminent.
“Go. Now.” Snape’s wand was still in the air.
In their haste to depart the dungeon neither Ron nor Hermione noticed that Harry had surreptitiously stuffed the rag he had been using to clean Snape’s cauldron into the pocket of his robes.
Author: trobairiz
Rating: PG
Summary: What happens when a detention Snape gives the trio involves scrubbing the remains of a powerful love potion out of a few dozen cauldrons?
Notes: SPOILER ALERT! Alludes to happenings in DH. Oneshot. Set around the time of GOF.
This is my absolute first fanfic ever.
Trouble Brewing
It sometimes seemed to Harry Potter that the one place in all of Hogwarts he could be absolutely sure of winding up on practically a monthly basis was his least favorite place of all: detention in the dungeon with his irascible potions master, Severus Snape.
“Bloody git!” hissed Ron as he stumbled sleepily behind Harry. “Detention at midnight, the night before everyone in our year has a three foot long essay due in Charms. What does Snape think he’s playing at?”
“Ronald, I cannot believe you’ve left that essay until the last minute. We’ve had a whole month to work it out!" Hermione Granger was feeling more peevish than usual. She wasn’t looking forward to staying up half the night in the coldest part of the castle, especially to serve a - a - well, she could barely even bring herself to form the word in her mind.
Ron sensed her thoughts. “Not much used to detention, are you, Hermione?” He smirked, choosing to gloss over her comment about his essay.
“Honestly, Ron, you say that as if it’s a bad thing!”
“Bad enough we’re in detention because Draco Bloody Malfoy lobbed some newts’ eyes into our cauldron when Snape’s back was turned. Madame Pomfrey said it could take up to two weeks for the green to fade from everyone’s hair. Now I’ve got to listen to you two argue the whole time,” Harry griped.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but Ron chortled. “It’s nearly worth it to have seen Snape’s face when our potion blew up half the room though. Green isn’t bad on me, eh?” He strutted a bit, causing Harry to nearly choke with laughter. Even Hermione smiled. “Malfoy looks a right prat though.”
“That’s hardly unusual,” Harry retorted.
Once the trio reached the dungeon they stood outside the door of the potions classroom elbowing and shuffling, each trying to make it so one of the others had to knock on the door.
“This is ridiculous,” Hermione hissed.
“You do it then.” Ron put his hand on the small of her back and shoved her forward a bit. Immediately, hot color bloomed all the way up to his ears, making his oddly striped hair look even more ludicrous. Harry kindly affected not to notice.
“You’re late.” The door opened before she could knock.
“Prof-Professor, it’s only-“she attempted.
“One minute after twelve. That’s another five points from Gryffindor.” Harry was certain that Snape was enjoying this. He opened his mouth to retort, but a glare from Hermione made him change his mind.
“You will be scouring these cauldrons,” Snape intoned, indicating a pile stacked halfway to the ceiling. “Without magic. I expect them to be spotless when I return. Do not touch anything from my personal stores. Good evening.”
He swept from the room before Harry or Ron could cheek back. Which, Hermione pointed out, was probably the first favor he’d ever done them.
“Might as well get started.” Ron kicked gloomily at the pile. “What a mess - this lot is left over from George and Fred’s double potions this afternoon.”
“What was the lesson?” Hermione was practically kneeling in one of the students’ cupboards in an attempt to come up with some rags with which they could properly clean the cauldrons.
“A love potion,” Ron answered. “Forget what it’s called. It’s got something to do with everybody being able to tell what’s most important to you by what it winds up smelling like. George told me at dinner. He was awfully embarrassed.”
Hermione gasped, nearly banging her head as she whirled to face him. “Do you mean Aperio Diligo?”
Ron nodded.
That’s a really powerful potion,” Hermione explained. “Aperio Diligo, or Love Revealed, is a concoction that through its scent reveals what is most beloved to you.” As usual, Hermione sounded exactly as if she were quoting word for word from a book. “It’s a potion that’s usually done on one’s own, obviously, as anyone near you would be able to smell what you..." She bit her lip, flushing, as she hefted the nearest cauldron onto a table and stuck her head inside.
“Blimey!” gasped Ron. “You mean the whole class can smell…?” He broke off, embarrassed. “I say, mates, remind me to skive off that day!”
Much to the boys’ surprise, Hermione, who was still slightly pink in the face, was nodding in agreement.
“Fancy Snape having them brew love potions!” Harry whistled. “Honestly, if Neville ever manages to transfigure a teacup into a gerbil I’ll be less amazed.”
Ron grinned. “Fred said Snape mentioned something about learning your enemies’ greatest weakness. Trust Snape to see love as a bad thing.”
“I - I kind of feel sorry for Snape,” Hermione said quietly after a minute.
The boys were agog.
“No, honestly, it must be really sad to have never…” her voice trailed off, and she quickly commenced polishing in order to avoid looking at either of her friends.
Harry snorted to break the tension in the room. “I didn’t know a bit of green hair would turn you Slytherin, Hermione!” he teased. He ducked quickly to avoid the rag she sent sailing in his direction.
After what seemed like hours to the exhausted, freezing Gryffindors, only two cauldrons remained. After a brief hesitation, Harry selected a new rag and the bigger cauldron. “This is mostly my fault. If I hadn’t tried to jinx Malfoy at dinner last week he wouldn’t’ve tried to blow us up in class.”
Hermione picked up final cauldron. “Ron, now’s a good time to finish up that Charms essay.”
Ron groaned as he thanked her. “Looks like I won’t be sleeping tonight.”
Hermione opened her mouth to tell him off but was distracted by a noise from the corner of the room.
“Harry?”
“Hmmm?”
“I didn’t know you liked classical music.”
“Huh?” Harry, who was leaning over so far into his cauldron that his head was no longer visible, straightened up with a puzzled expression.
“What you were humming just now….”
Harry shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you what it’s called, or how I know it.”
“It’s a children’s song. A lullaby,” explained Hermione.
Harry brushed it off. “Must’ve heard it on one of the batty programs Dudley watches on telly. He has that thing blasting day and night. Even double potions is better than my aunt and uncle’s.”
Hermione nodded in commiseration, simultaneously making a face at her cauldron. “I hate the smell of lavender, and I don’t much like coffee either. They’re positively repulsive together. Trade you, Harry?”
“No!” Harry’s response was so abrupt that Hermione looked a bit hurt. “Sorry. I didn’t - it’s just -” he shuffled his feet.
“What? What is it?” Always on the lookout for an excuse to stop doing an essay, Ron abandoned his Charms work and crowded between Harry and Hermione, who had wandered over to see what the fuss was about.
“Maybe it’s Diggory’s cauldron.” Ron was smirking. “He has double potions with Fred and George. I wonder what - or should I say who - his Aperio Diligo smells like.”
“Shut up, Ron! I don’t fancy- I don’t know what it is, I just like how it smells, all right? It’s comforting, like.” Harry was so clearly embarrassed that even Ron couldn’t bring himself to take the mickey anymore.
Hermione tried to help Harry save face. “It smells like roses and honeysuckle, mostly. A bit like talc, too. It’s a Muggle perfume. My neighbor wears it.” Her brow furrowed. “It is quite nice, but I don’t reckon it smells like anyone we know.” Her voice became brisk as she hurried back to her task. “Ron, best put away your Charms homework, Snape should be back-“
“Potter, I thought I told you not to touch anything in my personal stores.”
Harry, Ron and Hermione whipped around. Snape’s wand was out. His voice was a hiss; angrier than the students had ever heard him.
“I didn’t know yours was mixed in with this lot!” Harry gestured furiously at the cauldron he had been scouring for the past half hour. Instinctively, Hermione and Ron stepped in front of him, as Snape cursing Harry seemed frighteningly imminent.
“Go. Now.” Snape’s wand was still in the air.
In their haste to depart the dungeon neither Ron nor Hermione noticed that Harry had surreptitiously stuffed the rag he had been using to clean Snape’s cauldron into the pocket of his robes.