Author's Note Used to Give the Story More Words: First fic, huh. Of course, I tried to make a serious fic, but I suck at anything not comedy. I usually get stuck writing paragraph four. Or before four. Alright, hoping this is good, and I continue this, (plus actually post it), the formula for each chapter should go like this. The chapter will be about either one subject, or one day. Each subject will have about four/five short stories about it. Very short. Don't blame me if you find other material in mine. Just give yourself a cookie for knowing the reference. Anyway, enough stalling, lets-a-go.

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Chapter one: Potions class, Year Three, Day One

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"Good Morning, though you can never tell in these dungeons." said a certain man. That man was known by his friends as Snape. He was also known by his enemies as Snape. It seemed that everyone knew him as Snape. Snape was a tall man who looked like Alan Rickman with long black hair.

"Welcome, to your first day in third year Potions class," Snape said. "Today, you will be making a Wiggenweld Potion. Or at least will try." He added with a smirk at Neville Longbottom, who contrarily, did not actually have such a long bottom.

"First, I need to know if anyone here actually knows the ingredients for one. I doubt it, considering most of you are brainless idiots who…" "One pint of Horklump juice, 2 drops of Flobberworm Mucus,7 Chizpurfle fangs, Billywig sting slime, A sprig of mint, Boom Berry juice, One stewed Mandrake, Drops of Honeywater, Sloth brain Mucus, Moondew drops, Powdered root of asphodel, Shredded dittany, Wiggentree bark, Moly petals, Salamander blood , and 10 Lionfish spines!" said a Hermione Granger, whom you should already know.

"Correct. 5 points from Gryffindor for interrupting me. Anyway, since our local smartass here already knows the meaning of life, the universe, and everything, you Gryffies obviously do not need help, I expect everything to be perfect." He said, throwing a throwing a threatening glace at Neville.

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"This is annoying" muttered a certain 13 year old black haired boy with a scar on face, while trying to make some Boom Berry juice. His name was Charles Fleemer. He got a scar on his face from when his parents died when he was one. Some lunatic brought him to his uncles in a burger king bag on a motorcycle. They hit a speed bump, and apparently he got cut by a Whopper somehow.

"Tell me about it," said Harry Potter. The Harry Potter. The Harry J Potter. The Boy who lived. The Boy who is still living. The Artist formally known as the Boy who lived. Lightning face. Harry James Potter. Harry J. Potter. HP (Sadly not Lovecraft). H to the a to the r to the r to the y. Or simply Potter. He was sitting with Ron Weasley. Ron, sadly, was not called by anything else.

Harry was also trying to get some of the Boom Berry's juice to come out of the berry. Ron looked at Harry. "You have to bite it, mate, suck up the juice, and spit it in the cauldron." He said. "Isn't that really gross, though?" "Yep, but isn't Snape going to drink it?" This Brightened up Harry.

"5 points from Gryffindor for talking," said Snape. Snape did not notice the loud noise from Slytherin. Just the quiet one from Gryffindor. Snape was strange that way.

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Harry worked quietly away, trying to ignore that laughter from Slytherin on the other side of the room. Harry wondered what all that bloody fuss was about. Nothing much, probably. They knew they would get good grades without doing much anyway as long as Snape was Potions master. Besides, there was in no way that even in three years would Snape not be their Potions teacher. Harry doubted that Snape would get a position of power by even four years. And everyone knows how much could happen between Harry's fourth and seventh years. "Not much, probably."

That also seemed to the chance of origami flying up to him that looked like it could be from a textbook. Harry noticed it flatten once in was on his table. Harry bended over on his desk to look. Ron had as well. Harry's desk, though. Not his own. That would be stupid. Harry muttered some words that were written on the paper. "If you like me check one- the hell is this?" he said.

Harry looked around the room. He saw Snape reading some magazine called Witch's Digest and was relived, if not confused to that Snape did not see or hear anything. He looked around the room to find who made this. Besides Ron, he found one person not looking at the potion ingredients. "Go ahead Potter," said Draco Malfoy. "Check one."

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Neville stared hopelessly into his cauldron. Oh, how he longed for "Professor" Snape to take a swim in the Hogwarts water outside and either to have forgotten he ate 5 minutes ago, get attacked by the giant squid, get a stroke then and there, get murdered and attacked by fangirls who want his skin for theirs or, worst of all, get really, really, pruned. Muhahahahaha.

Neville knew how much it would hurt. Not that anything listed up there actually happened to him before. More like all of it. At once. Anyway, Neville really longed for this to come true. How he wanted it to be. How he wished it to be. Then again, he also wished to be an Oscar Meyer wiener, that is what he'd truly like to be, cause if he was an Oscar Meyer wiener…damn song.

Neville sighed. He bended over to look in his cauldron to see if it had turned the right shade of green yet. He saw that it did, and turned away to get one of his last ingredients. Draco was doing the same thing. He was checking to see if it was green, but it was instead a shade of yellow. Draco hissed. He was angry. Goyle hissed. He just wanted to.

"Professor," said Draco, "Longbottom threw something into my cauldron!" Snape looked furiously at Neville. Draco smirked at Neville. Neville nearly wet himself. Snape uttered the barley heard words loudly. "5 points from Gryffindor." Hermione raised her hand. "Ugh, fine Granger, what is it?" "It would be very unlikely for Neville to throw it into Draco's cauldron." "Why do you say that, Miss Granger?" "There both two different sides of the room. And both against the wall, to boot."

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End Note: First chapter done. If anyone can see the reference (not Oscar Meyer. Too obvious.) You get a cookie. Please review. Not too harshly, though. I am a n00b.