"Settle down," said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind him.
There was no real reason for the call to order; the moment the class had heard the door close, quiet had fallen and all fidgeting stopped. Snape's mere presence was usually enough to ensure a class's silence.
"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, "I think it appropriate to tell you that the potion we will be concocting is highly challenging and, if brewed incorrectly, can be very dangerous. Even the simplest mistake could be fatal"
His gaze lingered on Harry and his mouth curled into a smirk.
"I should hope at least one of you to prove how much you have learned in this class, by completing this assignment by the end of the lesson. Begin."
With a flick of his wand, the ingredients and the method appeared on the blackboard.
Harry had never in his life seen a more difficult potion.
But, as usual, the love of his life had got straight to work.
She pulled her cauldron towards her with one hand, while weighing 50 grams of dried Basilisk's fang on the scales with the other.
Harry scanned the room apprehensively, and then kneeled down on one leg in front of her.
He took her hand in his and said, "Hermione, you know how much I love you, right?"
She raised her eyebrow at him suspiciously.
"And that you're the most beautiful, funny, caring, intelligent girl in the whole world."
"Yeah," she said skeptically.
"Well, would you please, please do me the honour of… making this potion for me?"
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "You're a pathetic little boy, you know."
He looked up at her with his best puppy dog stare.
"But I'm a pathetic little boy you love, right?"
She tried hard to keep a straight face, but in the end she just laughed and said, "Of course I'll help y--"
She cut-off mid sentence and her eyes wandered to something behind Harry's head.
He felt a rough hand grab his collar tightly and yank him up from the floor, his feet just barely touching the ground.
The class stopped what they were doing, all eyes on Harry.
"What do you think you are playing at Potter?" Snape barked tauntingly into Harry's face.
His cold eyes stared into Harry's emerald green ones, his hooked nose seemed even bigger close up.
"Nothing Sir," Harry spat back, a look of disgust clearly seen on his face.
Snape sneered at him darkly. His fists still in an iron-grip on Harry's collar.
"Get back to work," he said loudly, his eyes then traveled around the room, "All of you."
There was a sudden scraping of cauldrons and chopping of knives as his classmates resumed their work, pretending that they hadn't been eavesdropping.
Snape practically threw Harry into his chair, making sure to give him a sinister glare as he swooped back to the front of the dungeon.
"10 points will be taken from Gryffindor, for Mr. Potter's little…performance."
Harry groaned.
"Smooth move, buddy," Hermione joked, playfully whacking him over the head.
"Well, that's the last time I ever display human emotion around Snape, that's unfamiliar territory to him," he said, winking at Hermione.
"Your such a git!" She laughed, earning her a death glare from Snape, who was now patrolling around, criticizing everybody but Malfoy.
"Come on, you two. Get to work," said a disgruntled Ron, obviously irritated at their show of affection.
Harry scoffed, "look who's talking!"
"Hn," Ron replied, never talking his eyes off the Leontopodium alpinum roots he was crushing.
"He's right, Harry," Hermione agreed.
A smirk spread across Ron's face.
"Go get the rest of the ingredients, Harry. They'll be in the store cupboard," she said.
She set to work chopping up the last of the dragonfly thoraxes and chizpurfle carapaces.
"Fine," he mumbled.
He squinted at the blackboard, the letters coming together to form words.
"Uh, fire to be exactly 150 degrees… blah, blah, blah… faerie wings, Maurandya petals… claw of wolf,"
The store cupboard door was open as Harry approached it. Jars of rare animals and plants piled up on the shelves.
"Ok, fairy wings, mar-oo-dan-thingy, wolf claw…" He said, stating the name of each item as he picked it up.
When returned to the table, the liquid inside the cauldron had turned a dark shade of blue, and the fumes appeared to be making Ron dizzy.
"Harry, put the faerie wings in," Hermione said.
He gently collected the fairy wings into the palm of his hand. They were so small and delicate; he was sure that if he were not careful, they would break.
He held his hand over the cauldron.
Hermione stood on her tippee-toes, peering at what Harry had in his hand.
"Harry, what are those?" She asked.
"Fairy wings," he replied, tipping his hand over so that the wings drifted down.
"NO! Harry it said faerie wings, not fairy wings!" She cried.
Too late.
The fairy wings hit the bubbling mixture.
Nothing happened.
Hermione looked at Harry crossly, "Do you know what you could of d--"
A deafening sound was heard as the cauldron exploded.