HELLO PEOPLE OF EARTH AND BEYOND! This is macadoodles again, DaDemonLovesMalfoy (to me, Chester)'s friend. We wrote this together, and please check out HER profile. She has important news! Anyways, this is the scene in the Half-Blood Prince movie where Lavender fights with Hermione in the hospital wing. But what got Chester and I most is that the TEACHERS were in that scene. So here's lovely Snape's thoughts on it. WE OWN NOTHING!
SNAPE'S POV
"Severus, come along," Dumbledore motioned for me to follow him, Slughorn, and McGonagall.
"May I ask where we are going?" I said, in my usual monotone voice.
"Mr. Weasley has been poisoned. We are off to the hospital wing to check up on him. Severus, I would like you to clarify what the poison is, see if it is recognizable." I noticed Slughorn was carrying a bottle of what I presumed was Madam Rosmerta's mead. Well, this was the second attack on a student, probably caused by Malfoy. That boy is as stubborn as is father. Trying to poison the headmaster is as stupid as letting loose a dragon in Hogwarts. Dumbledore led Slughorn and I into the wing, where Weasley was laying unconscious on a bed. Potter, Granger, and Weasley's sister were sitting next to him. The Weasley girl and Granger looked as if they had been crying.
"Good thinking on your part, Harry, using a bezoar. You must be very proud of your student, Horace." Dumbledore was always complimenting Potter. Didn't the old man have anything bad to say about him? He's as arrogant as his father, and this "Chosen One" business is just inflating his fat ego even more. I don't care what Albus said, if he was like my Lily in any way, it wasn't showing itself to me.
"Hm? Oh...yes," Slughorn murmured, not really paying attention. He was still in shock of what had happened in his own office.
"I think we all agree, Potter's actions were heroic," McGonagall said. Excuse me, we don't all agree, Minerva. "The question is, why were they needed?" she continued. Well, Minerva, they were needed because Slughorn couldn't come out of shock fast enough to save Weasley's life. No, Potter had to get all the glory. Again.
"Why indeed?" Dumbledore wondered aloud. He walked over to Slughorn. "This appears to be a gift, Horace. Do you remember who gave you this bottle?" Slughorn shook his head. Dumbledore took the bottle and opened it, smelling it's contents. "By the way, it possesses remarkably subtle hints of licorice and cherry...when not polluted with poison." I took the bottle from the Headmaster and instantly recognized the potion as Weedosoros, the same poison I had used for guarding the Philosopher's Stone.
"Actually, I intended to give it as a gift myself," Slughorn muttered.
"To whom, I might ask?" Dumbledore said.
Slughorn looked downward shamefully. "To you, Headmaster." There was an awkward silence before a girl with I had never seen before came rushing in. She had a bow on top of her curly brown hair that reminded me irrevocably of Umbridge.
"Where is he? Where's my Won-Won?" she cried. Won-Won? Really? Don't make me vomit. "Has he been asking for me?" No, you dolt of a girl, he's unconscious! The girl noticed Granger at Weasley's bedside. "What she doing here?" she hissed. Wow, so rude? Why isn't she in my House?
"I might ask you the same question," Granger snapped.
"I happen to be his girlfriend," the girl retorted. I do not want to be here and listen to pubescent teenagers. Although it was very entertaining. Why am I a teacher anyways?
"I happen to be his...friend," Granger finished lamely. Stupid hormonal teenagers.
"Don't make me laugh. You haven't spoken in weeks! I suppose you want to make up with him now that he's all interesting."
"He's been poisoned, you daft dimbo! And for the record, I've always found him interesting." How I despise puberty. And watch your language, Granger. Why isn't Dumbledore saying anything about this? This is exactly the filth I wish to eradicate from the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. Weasley began to mumble in his sleep.
"Ah, see? He senses my presence. Don't worry, Won-Won. I'm here. I'm here." Oh, boy, this should be interesting.
The orange one began to mutter. "Her...my...knee. Her...mione...Hermione." Oh, how romantic. I'd rather throw myself off the Astronomy tower than listen to this. Granger's eyes started to wet, and the bow-girl left, weeping.
"Oh, to be young, and to feel love's keen sting," Dumbledore said wisely. Honestly, Albus? That's what you're going to say? "Come away, Mr. Weasley is well attended to."
I was the first to leave that room. That was enough romance for me.
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