Disclaimer: Harry Potter and it's affliates are the sole property of J.K. Rowling and company. I don't not lay claim to any characters or refrences in this fanfiction. I do, however, lay claim to my plot line. So keep your meat hooks off! Kay?
Warnings: May contain Slash in later chapters, including a possible lemon/lime. Rated for language and future innuendo. Not for the kiddies and with good reason! Always remember... don't like, don't read.
Authoress Ramble: Well... we'll just see how far this one gets. Usually my interest in my stories is only kept alive by reviews. (hint: mores review more updates) I'm actually quite proud of this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed slaving over it for five months. No joke.
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The Effects of a Good Polyjuice Potion
Proffesor Snape on PMS
If Professor Snape had been stung by a Blast-Ended Skrewt after spilling a potion that would shrink his manhood, getting his abnormally long and greasy hair washed with rose scented shampoo, falling down ten flights of stairs, having every bone in his body accidentally removed by a blundering wizard (Lockhart! cough), and re-growing his broken body with a full dose of Skele-Grow, he still would have been in a better mood than he was that afternoon.
A rambunctious group of seventh year students found themselves allowed to enter the double-potions lesson about five minutes late. Their professor's eyes, however dark and menacing they usually were, had turned a burning black (some swore it was tinted red) and guided them to their certainly imminent doom with no room for questions, remarks, or funny breathing.
Lavender Brown later claimed that she almost fainted from trying not to breathe whenever the professor had turned his foreboding eyes in her direction.
With a violent flick of his wand, Professor Severus Snape managed to shut the door and the window shutters, send all the supplies to the young wizards sitting fearfully before him, and pull up the instructions to the potion they were about to attempt on the black board (in unison, no less, which made a few students jump).
"Partner assignments," he hissed, glaring balefully at his students.
"Granger and Longbottom."
Neville heaved a sigh of relief, obviously pleased that he wouldn't be the brunt of his prissy professor's rage that afternoon. He couldn't possibly screw up even the most complicated of potions with Hermione as a partner.
"Zabini and Brown."
Lavenders face took up a look of half pleasure from gaining such a handsome partner, but also mixed with a grimace from having to work with a Slytherin. Blaise rolled his eyes.
"Weasley and Thomas."
Ron and Dean high-fived in obvious relief.
The list continued for around two minutes as names were aimlessly fired off and paired with random partners.
Then, a malicious glint came into the professor's already stormy expression. With deliberate slowness and obvious pleasure in his voice, he said;
"Potter and… Malfoy."
Harry's eyes widened and then squeezed shut as he felt a head-ache prematurely throbbing in the back of his skull. Just the thought of partnering—for double potions no less—with Malfoy had his lunch threatening to rise.
Opening his eyes, Harry caught the end of a deathly staring match between the potions master and his godson. Funny. He would have expected that hollowed, hateful gaze to be permeating his eye balls, not precious Malfoy's.
The silence continued to dangle in the air as Snape paired of the wizards, and then the Potions Master set down his list of names and sat back in his large leather-cushioned chair.
"You will keep these partners for approximately two months, depending on the efficiency of both partners." His eyes flashed dangerously, and the groan of despair that almost punctured the thick air was hushed. "It will take you that long to create and maintain the potion. In the instances when the instructions call your attention to the potion outside of class time, I may require that you tend to your potions. Depending on my mood, I might tend them myself."
His significant grimace let everyone know that this potion would most likely take up a lot of outside of class time. "Turn to page four-hundred and thirty-two, there you will find the instructions for… the Polyjuice Potion."
Harry turned his head a fraction of an inch to find both Ron and Hermione's gaze. They all smiled just slightly before turning back to their professor. They would have little problem with this assignment, they'd done it before.
Not that Snape had any idea of that.
"This potion is one of the most dangerous and… painful potions you can ever take. The Ministry of Magic has finally allowed me to teach my seventh year students how to create it. When the potion is completed, you will take just enough to transform into your partner for five minutes… give or take."
There it was. That hateful glare was directed fully at Harry this time. An uneasy pit of despair settled in his gut. What if he was stuck for a full hour as Malfoy, instead of just a few minutes? Harry's eyes squeezed shut as he felt his nausea coming to a head.
There was a stunned silence in the air, every wizard there still afraid to move wrong.
Almost immediately the Potions Masters pursed his lips at the lack of activity, and tapped his fingertips against his desk top. "Move!" He barked.
There was a flurry of motion as the students tried to release themselves from the maddened gaze of their professor. It didn't take long. Severus Snape closed his eyes and rubbed his temples before turning his chair around and looking into his collection of abnormal potions. Harry gathered his things and heaved himself to where Malfoy sat, his designer clad legs propped up on the table, a devilish smirk affixed upon his face.
"I think he truly hates me." The blond said quietly to himself, taking a lock of his perfectly oiled hair in his fingers and twirling it. "Two months, looking forward to nothing but your face and a stinking potion, and at the end of all the torture, I get to look like you too. Joy."
"I'm in no better position than you are Malfoy." Harry hissed, setting up the cauldron and laying out the ingredients.
"Always so optimistic, Potter. What gives you such boyish charm?" Malfoy teased with a roll of his eyes.
They were both quiet for a minute as they rattled around the potion, before Malfoy gave a low whistle, his eyes gleaming as he said, "My, you do seem to know what you're doing."
Harry froze over tearing bundles of knotgrass and throwing them into his bubbling vat of water. "It's not that difficult…" He muttered, tossing the final bundle in.
"You haven't even opened your book." Malfoy pointed out, his eyebrow arching curiously.
Harry tossed his book open to the proper page and continued. "I looked it over before I moved."
"Mmm." Malfoy replied, slipping his feet off the table and leaning forward over the brew. "This looks like it will be… interesting."
Harry caught himself before he could respond with a despairing, "You have no idea." He sighed as he ran his fingers over the printed directions for slicing the Lacewing flies into even halves.
"Mind giving me a hand?" Harry asked pushing a half of the flies and the remaining knife towards Malfoy. Grumbling, the Slytherin took up a fly and a knife and glanced at the directions before beginning to dice his pile of insects into halves. Harry cringed at the speed at which he did it. "Even halves, Malfoy." He said.
"They are even." Malfoy said sarcastically, finishing his pile.
"How can they be even if you're cutting them quicker than lightening?"
"Check them for yourself." Malfoy replied, piling the flies together and scooting them towards Harry with a swift flick of his hand.
Harry examined the flies, surprised to find that Malfoy wasn't lying. They were cut into perfect halves. "How did you…? Never mind."
"Too much for your tiny brain to process?" Malfoy chuckled, "I know I can boggle the mind sometimes." He sat back again. "Want me to do yours?"
Harry looked at his slow progress, and then looked on to the next set of directions. "Maybe you ought to."
Smirking, Malfoy diced the remaining flies and deftly scooped the entire stock into the potion. Immediately there was a spurt of deep purple smoke and the potion turned a midnight hue. Harry smiled. "We'll need to stir it clockwise five times, and then counter clockwise three."
He gripped the spoon and stirred it precariously five times to the left, and three to the right. The potion swirled and became more of an indigo type hue.
"Perfect." Malfoy murmured. "Now what?"
"We have to wait for a half hour, exactly, and then fix up some more knotgrass to throw in every fifteen minutes until class is over."
"Fun." Malfoy said, throwing his body back into his chair. Shielding his eyes from light with an arm thrown over his face, he yawned dramatically and said, "Wake me when it's time."
"Whatever." Harry sighed, setting the timer.
A quick glance around the room told Harry that he and Malfoy were some of few already waiting for the thirty minutes to pass until they could add more knotgrass. He caught Hermione's worried stare as his eyes swept through the room.
"Are you okay?" She mouthed at him.
He nodded and almost laughed at Hermione's expression as she relaxed. Looking like a giant weight had been lifted off her body; she slumped in her chair, and then sat back up again when Neville asked a question.
"Granger looks particularly worried about you." Malfoy said quietly, one eye peeking open.
"She seems to think that I'm not enjoying myself. Don't quite know where she would get that impression." Harry said sarcastically, folding his arms over his chest.
"Touché," Malfoy replied.
There was a steady silence between the rivals. Harry made it a point to watch the timer ticking away the seconds and listen to the loud conversations of people struggling with the potion around him. Draco closed his eyes again, yawning dramatically every couple of minutes.
"She really needn't worry, though." He said suddenly. "I won't kill you in front of so many witnesses."
"Gee, I'm really relieved now." Harry snapped.
"My, my, you're touchy today."
Harry glared at him. "I haven't had the best day."
"I can see that."
Another pause in the conversation. Harry felt his eye twitching.
"You know—"
"Why are you so damn talkative?" Harry said cutting him off, and feeling the tone of annoyance touching his voice. He forced himself to keep the volume down before Professor Snape took out his frustrations on Harry's house points.
Malfoy's lips twitched at the angry tone in his potions-partner's voice. "I'm bored. I usually make small talk when I'm bored." He opened one eye again, and smirked. "Mostly, my conversations fall on more interested and much less hostile ears, but hey, I'll take what I can get."
Harry rolled his eyes, and nearly sighed with relief as the timer went off. He tore the knotgrass into chunks and sprinkled the bundles evenly over the potion, then set the timer for an excruciating fifteen minutes.
"You seem edgy Potter."
"Working with an enemy doesn't really give me a reason for relaxation."
"I already said I wouldn't kill you in front of so many witnesses." Malfoy pushed his lips out, trying to contain a laugh. "Though in a dark alley some day… who knows?" He trailed off with a snicker.
"Why the bloody hell are you in such a good mood?"
"I'm simply making the best out of a bad situation. Pity you won't do the same."
"I don't see much good I can make out of this."
"Then be miserable." Malfoy replied, shrugging in an off-hand manner that made Harry's blood boil.
"You don't make it any easier." He muttered heatedly.
Malfoy opened his eyes and, suppressing a smile, made a mock-pout push his lips forward and eyebrows upward. "Potter, I'm hurt."
"Fuck you." Harry spat.
Malfoy chuckled. "Such foul language I've never heard in all my days! Perfect Potter seems to have a problem with his potty mouth."
"Let's see how many times you can say the letter 'P' in a sentence, while still managing to insult me." Harry scoffed under his breath. "Makes you sound like a fucking moron."
"Pardon?"
Harry couldn't help himself; he had to snicker a little. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
Blessedly, Malfoy chose not to respond and leaned back in his chair again, feigning some form of a snooze. Harry folded his arms and stared at the ceiling with disinterest until the timer went off again. He tore up the knotgrass and scattered it over the potion, watching with boredom etched in every line on his face as the potion slowly simmered from the indigo-blue shade to a stormy ocean grey. Harry found himself thinking how close the color was to Malfoy's eyes. Sometimes when it reached full boil, he could imagine the bubbles of rage in Malfoy's eyes when he became angry. The potion resembled him.
And then suddenly, class was over.
Harry gathered his things, feeling light headed from sitting in a room full of stinking potions.
Meeting up with Hermione and Ron outside the potion's dungeon door, they quickly made their way to dinner, not pausing to dither, in case Professor Snape found a reason to call them back and dock them house points or give them detention.
Once safely back in the will lit corridors, Hermione sighed and smiled. "Well, that couldn't have been worse…"
"No kidding." Harry and Ron muttered in reply at the same time. They grinned at each other as the stress lifted from their shoulders and they entered the spacious Great Hall, already packed with students eating from the piled plates of food. Sitting down and preparing their plates, Ron adamantly entered himself into a conversation of bashing Snape's mood during the last class.
Seamus was loudly proclaiming that Snape had been in such a foul attitude due to the fact that his mysterious "man-lover" had refused to bed him just before class. Lavender Brown swore up and down that she had heard the greasy potion's master muttering about a rejection letter from Durmstrang in regards to a better teaching position. Ron and Harry joked uproariously about the possibility of Snape having accidentally taken a potion that would shrink or enlarge certain areas of the body, giving him the over all appearance of a female.
Hermione, her voice scathing and her look apprehensively amused, was the first to break the boy's hilarious chatter down. "I don't think you want to be saying such things. You never know if Professor Snape could be listening."
Ron blanched and then cracked a grin. "I bet you he has listening charms set up in all the girls dormitories."
"Ronald!" Hermione screeched, going positively pink at the ears.
"I wouldn't put it past the smarmy git to give himself a good squeeze while he listens either." Seamus put in with a disgusted laugh.
"Hmph!" Hermione grumbled, obviously ill-at-ease.
"That's enough, guys." Harry said defensively, not wanting to make Hermione mad so early in the evening. She seemed to lighten up after that, but made sure to throw shoddy glances Ron and Seamus's way every chance she got.
With the table talk easing away from the calamity of making fun of the Potion's Master, everyone turned to their own conversations, and the one Harry wanted to discuss least seemed to interest almost anyone who had been in Potion's that day.
"You and Malfoy seemed able to function today. Was it okay, Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly.
"Besides his usual taunting and flamboyant conduct, he seemed to behave alright." Harry replied. "Same old Malfoy, mostly."
Ron grunted. "'Same old Malfoy' would have torn your head off first chance the git got." He shoved his mouth full of steak and glared directly at the back of Malfoy's head. "Greasy old sleaze. He's already starting to look too much like his precious Godfather." Ron scoffed.
Harry couldn't help but smile a little. It was true; Malfoy's hair hadn't been properly cut in perhaps a month or two, and some of the longer strands, oiled with some sort of Italian stick-up-the-ass designer's hair gel, were beginning to resemble Snape's oily black hair. Despite the contrast between blonde and black, there was no mistaking the uncanny hair-similarity.
"Malfoy's nose is to long and pointy for him to look like Snape."Harry said, holding in a laugh only by inches.
Ron laughed. "True. The size of Snape's nose is hard to match. Can't deny the tendency for length in the Malfoy family thought."
Even Hermione laughed remembering Lucius Malfoy's girlishly long locks.
"Really though, Harry. Do you think you'll manage? The Polyjuice Potion is stressful enough without adding in a brat like Draco Malfoy." Hermione voice nervously.
"If he gets out of hand, I'll just threaten to turn him into that beloved white ferret. I'm sure he hasn't forgotten the last time that happened."
Everyone within ear-shot laughed.
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