Harry rested his head on his arms and sighed. Snape was lecturing about some weird soul-mate potion or whatever it was, and it didn't interest him the slightest. He turned his eyes towards the cabinets and let his eyes travel along the shelves which was filled with lots of peculiar things. Like dried hippogriff shit, bat eyes and slug vomit. The green-eyes teen spotted a dead rodent and glared at it, as it reminded him of that little coward Pettigrew. The scribbling of a quill to his left told Harry that Hermione was taking rapidly notes of everything Snape said. Further up The-boy-who-lived saw Seamus lean over to Dean and whisper something, who laughed quietly at whatever it was. The potion master did unfortunately notice and stopped suddenly in mid-sentence and strided with long steps towards the offending duo. "10 points from Gryffindor for speaking in class, Finnegan. As I was saying, this potion..." Harry gritted his teeth in annoyance; Gryffindor was already in the last place to the House Cup, and they would never even get a chance if Snivellus continued to take points for nothing. Behind him, he heard Ron whisper "Bloody dungeon bat", and Harry couldn't agree more.

Harry turned his gaze to the ceiling and started counting all the cobwebs he saw, and had counted five when Hermione poked his left arm. "Harry" she whispered and stared at him with that stare that told you that 1. Someone is calling your name 2. You've spaced out or 3. You should've known this answer, go and study. As he looked at all the faces turning his way, he realized it was probably number 1. "Eh... yes?" He said, turning his head to look at the glaring face of Snape, who clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Sir. It is yes sir. Mr. Potter, when speaking to your superiors. 5 points from Gryffindor for your lack of respect. But I guess one can't expect obedience from celebrities who believe they're above the law. " Harry barely refrained to rolling his eyes. "And I asked you a question, but since it seems like you were too busy counting flies in the ceiling..." Not flies, thought the teen, cobwebs actually. "...to actually pay attention, I'll take another 10 points from Gryffindor." Snape got this satisfied gleam in his eyes that Harry wanted to desperately wipe off with some of that Hippogriff shit in the cabinet. "The question, Mr. Potter, was: can you tell me a problem with using the Soul mate potion without someone else competent present?" The boy who wasn't dead looked back at his potion professor and didn't answer. Not because he thought he was above the law, but because he didn't know the answer. Beside him his bushy haired friend had raised her hand so high that Harry wondered if her shoulder was about to pop out of it's socket. "Can't or won't answer, Mr. Potter? I'm still waiting for your answer." Snape drawled from behind his stained, ugly desk. "I don't know, sir." Harry emphasised the "sir" and stared defiantly up at his least favourite professor. "Maybe if you had paid attention, you would've known the answer."

The man nicknamed "The dungeon bat" shook his head at Harry, as if disappointed. He then proceeded to ignore Hermione's waving hand and asked: "anyone here who knows this simple question? Mr. Malfoy?" Harry sighed, of course he would choose Malfoy over Hermione. Malfoy, the stuck-up Slytherin. The boy with platina-blond hair hanging halfway over the pupil to his right eye. The eye which was the same colour as the ice-bergs in the Arctic ocean. How Harry despised it. Everything from his behaviour to his appereance and to the way he walked. The blond boy answered Snape's question without hesitation, to Harry's annoyance. "The problem is that your soulmate is most likely far away, and you will walk in a straight line towards that person. You either walk straight into walls or drown in the ocean. So, it's better to have another person there to make sure that one doesn't injure oneself." The gleam in Snape's eyes returned and he said "10 points to Slytherin for owning a brain, Mr. Malfoy." After a pause, he said: "now, you're going to brew this potion, and I will seal the room, so you won't get out when you try it." Snape pointed his wand at the door and mumbled something Harry couldn't hear. "And before you begin, Ms. Granger, change place with Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Potter needs to begin doing something on his own, not just relying to Ms. Granger to even barely pass." The professor sneered down at the boy with Lily's eyes, who seethed on the inside. Why did Snape have to make everything so difficult for him? Sitting with Hermione was when he actually could work. If he sat with anyone else, they would either do everything, nothing or be annoying. He felt like banging his head in a wall when Hermione's presence was replaced by the more maskuline body of Draco Malfoy. "Just don't get in my way, ok?" The blonde boy said to him haughtily, his arctic eyes looking at Harry as if he were an unwanted smudge on his wand. "If you do." Replied Harry.

"Jesus Christ, Potter. I told you to not mess anything up." The frustrated form of Draco Malfoy looked at the slightly smaller figure of Harry Potter, who replied: "I didn't mess anything up, you did most of it anyways." The boy who lived threw his hands up in defence. They had tried the potion, and Harry had been so sure of that they had made a perfect potion. Since they hadn't even insulted each other during the process. However, he had felt no inclination to move anywhere after he had drunk his dose. So, he guessed that they had done something wrong...

And as Harry Potter tried to rack his brain finding what they had done wrong. Severus Snape stood behind his desk and looked at them with an unreadable expression. He had watched them the entire time, to make sure they hadn't gotten into a fight. He was one of the best potion masters in the world, and he knew they hadn't done anything wrong.

A/N: Hello! This is my first fanfiction! I hope you enjoyed. Reviews are greatly appreciated.

-Chantelle