Okay, this was actually inspired by a weird dream I had the other night... I formed it into a short story since the idea was kind of interesting.

Disclaimer: Obviously, I do not own any characters or related elements of the Harry Potter universe.

The Potions Mistake

Chapter 1: The Spill

It was the last class before lunch and Potions seemed to drag on forever as Harry tried to concentrate on the list of directions written on the board behind Snape's desk. Step four required three billywig stingers and step five mentioned something about fairy wings…

Harry noticed a spot on the far wall that strangely resembled the Golden Snitch, making him think of how much he would rather be practicing Quidditch than sitting in a dim, stuffy dungeon brewing impossible potions. He imagined pulling out his wand, summoning his Firebolt, and soaring out of the room to fly around the Quidditch Pitch outside.

Harry quickly turned his attention back towards chopping up his billywig stingers as Snape rose from his desk at the front of the room and took to drifting up and down the rows of students, being careful to point out even the smallest mistakes imaginable. While Snape was busy looming over an already petrified Neville, Ron placed a vial of his finished potion on his desk and turned to talk to Harry.

"So how are you coming along on your Divination essay?" Ron asked as his friend added the last of his fairy wings to his cauldron. "I'm already almost done with mine."

"I think I have twenty more words to go," Harry replied as he stirred the potion carefully. "How did you decide to begin yours?"

"Hang on," Ron reached his hand into his bag to search for something. "I have it around here somewhere… Here it is." He pulled out a crumpled roll of parchment and attempted to use the edge of his desk to flatten it out. "Why Divination is an Important Subject: Divination is an important subject because knowing your future can be important to your life. It is also important since it is important to me. The importance is—"

"You've used important six times in your first three sentences," Hermione added from the desk next to Ron's. "I don't think Trelawney is going to give you a very high mark for that paper."

"I still managed to write my nine hundred words," Ron protested. "I'd say it deserves at least a C for effort."

"Mr. Weasley!" Snape suddenly said, causing Ron to jump and knock his potion vial over, its contents spilling all over Harry's hands and desk. The Slytherins roared with laughter as Snape strode over to examine his hands for any harmful side affects. Neville seemed slightly relieved that he had not caused the accident this time.

After Snape was convinced that Harry was absolutely fine, (he appeared disappointed at this discovery) he flicked his wand and the spill from Ron's vial disappeared. "I suggest next time you pay more attention, Mr. Weasley—you might actually learn something." He moved back to behind his desk and addressed the rest of the class. "You shall gather the rest of your potions ingredients in time for the next lesson." They were given a few minutes to clean up their cauldrons and wash their hands then everyone filed out of the room after they were dismissed.

"I'm really sorry, Harry," Ron apologized again as the three friends walked down the corridor towards the staircase to join the rest of the school in the Great Hall for lunch.

"Forget about it; I'm fine," Harry decided to change the subject. "You might want to worry more about your essay though."

"Yeah, er.. do you mind if I see yours later tonight?" Ron asked. "I need a better introduction paragraph."

"Go ahead, but I'm not too sure if mine's that great either." This was the last thing Harry remembered saying because the next second, he found himself seated at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall sitting next to Ron and Hermione. For some odd reason he could not remember even going through the doors or sitting down. Obviously, he had also missed the meal because he took a glance in Ron's direction and noticed he was already finished eating.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione asked. "On our way up from the dungeons you looked pale, like you were going to faint or something."

"I don't even remember walking into the Hall…" Harry replied. "The last thing I remember is Ron asking me if he could look at my Divination essay." Hermione appeared to have not heard him; she was busy gazing absentmindedly off in one direction. "Hermione?" She turned back to look at him as if in some kind of daze.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was busy daydreaming about things…"

"Thinking about your Muggle Studies report?"

"No," she frowned as if Harry had asked her a silly question. "Why would you think I'm worried about my research paper? You know I don't bother with my homework when I'm busy helping my dad get articles for the Quibbler." What in the world was Hermione talking about? Harry wondered. Before he had a chance to ask her if she was okay, a barn owl swooped down and delivered a copy of the Daily Prophet. She took the paper and handed a Knut to the bird. With a satisfied hoot, the owl took off to seek out other students that had ordered the newspaper that day. Harry attempted to talk to Ron while she was busy flipping through the pages.

"Don't you notice something strange about Hermione?" he whispered. "She just mentioned that she doesn't care about her homework right now because she has been helping her dad with the Quibbler. But Luna's dad works on the Quibbler." To add to Harry's confusion, Ron started laughing.

"Luna's dad? Harry, Luna would be the one who's always in the library doing research!"

"What are you talking about?" Harry frowned. "Hermione is the one who worries about exams and studying." What was going on? Luna usually was telling him about her weird daydreams—not Hermione. But Ron was already thinking about something else; Harry noticed him glaring at some students at the Slytherin table.

"Filthy little Mudbloods," Ron muttered under his breath.

"What?" Harry was taken aback by his friend's statement.

"They shouldn't even be allowed to be in the same school as us!"

"Would you mind your own business, Weasley!" Malfoy called from the Slytherin table. Ron turned around again and stared at his plate angrily.

"I hope his parents can't afford to send him next year," Ron said. "That would make my best year ever."

"Don't get your hopes up," Harry said. "With the money that his family has, he could probably buy Hogwarts…" It was Ron's turn to frown at Harry.

"His parents? They could hardly afford a used robe! Everyone knows his family is poor, why do you think they live in that dump of a place… what do they call it…? the Burrow or something." Thankfully, Ron was too busy grumbling to notice that Harry's mouth was hanging half open. Why was everyone acting completely opposite? Were they playing some kind of a prank on him? Harry thought.

There's only two more chapters to go until the end. I'm told you this was going to be strange... But I hope everyone enjoys it anyway.

-PurpleArmadillo