Harry Potter is (c) idk Warner Bros probably. This fan fiction is absolutely intended to break copyright. JK Rowling is responsible for making Harry Potter, but I don't think anyone much understood it.

GREEN AND SILVER PAINT

"Mr Malfoy, what are you doing?"

Professor Snape had sniffed out some wrongdoing, as ever. This time in the Charms classroom after hours.

"Nothing, sir," said Malfoy, attempting to strike a balance between the sort of cool defiance that so appealed to his fans and the sort of humility necessary to stop Snape taking some points away from Slytherin.

"Nothing," repeated Snape. Oh dear. He's being dangerously calm. "Hand me your wand."

Malfoy did some swears in his head. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

"Wand. Now."

Malfoy handed Snape his wand.

Snape took it, and held it tip-to-tip with his own wand.

"Priori incantato."

Malfoy's wand betrayed its owner's secret. It became clear to Snape that Malfoy had been casting some naughty fart spells, with a view, no doubt, to humiliating Gryffindors.

"I think it's time for the three of you to grow up," said Snape. Three? Yes, three. Crabbe and Goyle were there too, natch.

Malfoy didn't want to grow up, because this seemed like a Snapey euphemism for hours of tedious chores for Filch the caretaker. Hours.

"Let's take you to see Mr Filch."

Malfoy did some more head swears.

"And ten points from Slytherin."

What?! Snape taking points from his own house? Clearly, he wanted to turn Malfoy's own house against him for a bit.

What a bellend.

()

"Mr Filch."

"Argh!"

Filch had his back to the door as Snape ushered Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle into the office. And Filch kept his back turned, stuffing a piece of paper desperately into a cabinet drawer.

"What is it, Snape?"

"Turn around, Filch, I've got some -"

"Shan't."

"What?"

"P- P- Now, yes. Peeves has cast his normal mischief, yes. Just say your bit."

Crabbe and Goyle exchanged a look. It didn't help. It so rarely did.

"Got some students need punishing," said Snape.

"Out!" squealed Filch. "P-paint the room. Yes. Paint the Slytherin common room."

"Doesn't seem like -" started Snape.

"OUT!"

()

The Slytherin common room. There's barely a wizard gone bad who's not, at some point, binned a first-year in this very room.

The students had been sent elsewhere, and a collection of pots of green and silver paint lurked ominously at the feet of Professor Snape and the naughty boy trinity.

"You paint until the job is finished," said Snape. "Using THESE."

"What?!" blared Malfoy. "Muggle brushes? You wait until my father hears about this."

"If it would please you, Mr Malfoy," said Snape, smiling a dangerous smile. "I can send an owl to him directly. It'll be a good opportunity to fill him in on your performance in Potions this year."

Malfoy went white and quiet.

Snape waved his wand, and a heavy black-and-green hourglass materialised, the top bulb full of silver sand.

"This sand represents the unpainted portion of the room," said Snape. "It will fall only as you paint. You can stop when every last grain has run out."

Malfoy stared in horror at the ghastly hourglass.

Snape smiled again, and left them to it.

Malfoy did some swears in real life.

"Alright, you two. What are you waiting for?"

Crabbe, quick off the mark, did some thinking for ten seconds and then picked up a paintbrush.

"No, duh-brain," said Malfoy. "Turn the hourglass around. Get all the sand into the bottom."

Crabbe and Goyle lifted the heavy object, turning it around between them, and replacing it.

A dramatic pause.

And the silver sand, now in the bottom bulb, shot upwards into the top bulb.

Malfoy punched Goyle's back in his fury. It's unclear whether Goyle noticed.

"Right," said Malfoy. He grabbed his wand and pointed it at a pot of paint. "Defodio."

Nothing happened. But be fair, it's a tricky spell.

Malfoy stuck his wand under the lid of the paint, and lifted it. The paint on the end of his wand, he wiped clean on Crabbe's robe.

Malfoy dipped a brush thoughtfully into the pot. He removed it, dripping with paint. Was that too much? Oh, who cares?

He did a line on the wall. He checked the hourglass. A few grains of sand fell into the bottom bulb.

"Oh," said Malfoy. "It's quite fun, actually."

He kept doing lines, but after a while, it stopped being fun, and started to feel a bit too much like work.

He counted the lines he'd done so far. One … two … three … four. Four lines. He checked the hourglass. Double bugger, hardly any sand in the bottom bulb.

"This is ridiculous," Malfoy declared. "Time for desperate measures."

()

Here's what you need to know about Matilda Gamp:

1 - The scar under her left eye was caused by a spell cast by her best friend Sophie Shafiq eight years ago, when both were seven years old, after Gamp killed Sophie's rabbit as a prank.
2 - Gamp is a powerful witch for her age, but teachers don't like her, because her parents tortured most of them in the name of He Who Must Not Be Named. It is unclear whether Joanna and Stephen Gamp were actually part of the gang or whether they just enjoyed the fun.
3 - Gamp was briefly in a relationship with Marcus Flint. He cheated on her, and now there's something wrong with Marcus's brain. I don't wish to speculate on whether these facts are connected. I suggest you don't either.
4 - Gamp has a full collection of chocolate frog cards. She completed her collection very shortly after a second-year named Georgina Dinch completed hers, and shortly before Dinch was sent to the Hospital Wing to sort out "the creepiest spell I've seen in all my days" (quoth Pomfrey).
5 - Gamp once had a dream where she stabbed Professor Trelawney in the eye with a magic knife. Gamp genuinely believes this was a prophecy.
6 - Gamp is not allowed to study Divination anymore.

Today, Matilda Gamp was trying to create a magical compass which would point to the secrets of her enemies.

"Want to go Hogsmeade later?"

"Shut up, Sophie. Go die."

Right. Poke the wand in, angle it just right -

"Matilda. I need your help."

Malfoy was hit in the face by a heavy text book.

"Matilda, what the fu-"

"Hello, tiny firstie. Volunteering to help me with an experiment, are we?"

"No!" Malfoy squeaked. Then, in his proper voice, "I need you to cast a painting spell on the common room."

"Sounds tedious. What does it pay?"

"I can get my father to tell me secrets."

"Little boy, I can get your father to tell me secrets."

"Easier for me, though."

Gamp gave this due consideration.

()

Painting was a lot harder with scorched hands. Malfoy was furious.

"Who does she think she is? Wait until my father hears about this."

Goyle wasn't good at painting anything which wasn't Goyle. Crabbe liked the silver paint best.