A/N: This is my first fic in this fandom, please be gentle with me :)

This fic will be more like drabble, but with a plot. It's the first time I do this kind of thing, seeing I'm usually make the plot clear in my head and post a fic after I finished making them, so let's see where this goes, shall we.

Please excuse for any grammar error, misspelling, and character OOC, seeing that English is not my mother language

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. It belong to our queen obviously duh.

Prolog 1: Severus Snape

Severus Snape hates being a teacher.

He hates brats running across the hall, destroying thousands of beautiful rules made for the greater good. He hates preteens and their annoying mood swings. He hates teens busy with whatever thing they need to do that adult won't understand.

Generally, he just hates children and every stage of their life. He just find them annoying.

It's not like he's liked by his students anyway.

He was sure if they can vote for the most hated teachers in Hogwart's history, he'll come up the winner. He saw the stare the children gave to him when he passed them, heard how the children talked behind him.

Good. Not like he cared how they see him, as long as they didn't annoy him it's good enough.

He. Just. Didn't. Care.

So if someone asked you why the bloody hell he stood here right now, in front of this blasted supplement potion class, teaching mongrels about first year potions, again, when they're about third year and above, at least you know the reasons is not because he care.

Damn that old man and the jobs he had.

Because even if he hated being a teachers, it's not like he could abandon all his responsibilities as a teachers.

Added with supplement classes he had to teach, 3 classes for each year! And it's just the supplement classes, not counting the regular one. Why are this mongrels idiots? Are they that stupid to had to take supplement classes to boost their grades? Are they that mindless to play with each other in classes rather than paying attention to classes?

Added with helpless case like Mr. Longbottom or Mr. Finnegan.

This is nightmare.

So when Mr. Longbottom epically tripped, making his potion wasted on the floor, he just stare. When Mr. Finnegan, who was near the scene, was epically crashed with Mr. Longbottom and making his potion mixed with the previous potion on the floor, he just stare. When the kid near the scene stood up to avoid the spill, knocking down their cauldron, making their potion spilled and mixed with the potion on the floor, and other chained reaction making the potions in the room spilled into one giant poodle in the floor, he just stared. And when the said potions dissolved into a pink cloud and spread throughout the class, or dared he said, Hogwarts, he just, again, epically stared when all the student stared at him with wide eyes.

"Fifty points from Griffindor and their incapability to do basic thing such as walking straight without getting tripped."

Well… the bullying was fun though.

Being a teachers come with many responsibilities. Not just teaching, but also for every mistakes his students do.

It comes with being a good teacher after all.

Not like he is one.

So here he is, spending his precious diner time thinking about the accidents while the headmaster does his speech before diner started. It's not about Mr. Longbottom's godly carelessness, obviously, it was beyond repair. No, it's about the final potions. Even he admitted it's a bit… weird… for a potion to immediately dissolve and spread like that. Potions like that tend to had masses effect with unfavorable effect after all.

That's the thing.

The problem is, the ingredients the students picked were all different, making it impossible for them all to made the potion of the day, simple first year's harmless potions to cure the fever. Even he can't predict what would happened if all that different potions mixed into one, but the effect should be seen right now. But as far as he seen, there's nothing different going on in the school. Either the effect had yet to be seen, or the mongrels were truly idiots for making useless potions.

Or maybe he just reading into it too much.

"And last but not least, I want to remind you all for the Yule ball at the end of this year. Please, enjoy your youth while it still last, and have fun at the ball."

Ah… the dreaded Yule ball. He rolled his eyes thinking about brats nervously asked their crush to the dance, or the increased of public display affections in the school nearing the end of the year. You can't denied that Hogwart's months to come will be colored with a seasoned of love.

How dreadful indeed.

Looking at Mr. Weasley and Ms. Brown eating each other faces everyday could make everyone nauseated, you want to see that kind of couple times 100 and placed all across Hogwart?

No thank you.

His skin crawled.

Hmm… now that you mention it…

Severus Snape looked at the Griffindor's table. Now he understood that tingling feeling he had earlier. That obnoxious couple behave well tonight. What a miracle! And if you looked at the room carefully, the public display affections in the room had been decreased! How curious.

Or maybe… the potions?

Hmm.. maybe that brainless mongrels did a good job today. It's about time.

Well… at least he could sleep well tonight knowing the effect of the accident early this afternoon. It's a good outcome, why changing it? Maybe he can talk latter to Dumbledore about this events.

He took his first sip of the soup when a student from Hufflepuff stood while raising her hand, making everyone curious.

"We could dance with anyone, right?"

The old man just smiled hearing such enthusiastic and the energy the young woman had. "Love is not tied by time and space. Of course you can, Ms. Bones."

"Then…" the said students suddenly looked straight at his eyes. "I want to asked Professor Snape."

Severus Snape immediately does the thing he swore he never does in his entire life, bursting the soup he just ate. What the bloody hell?

"May I, sir?"

He's still coughing while a voices from another table was heard. "Oi! Who are you to invite Professor Snape to dance with you?"

Good, good, you students of mine. Tell her…

"I'm the one who will go with him on the ball!"

"No! Me!"

"You're kidding? With a body like that?"

"Shut up, you piece of bacon!"

"Professor Snape! Dance with me!"

"You're delusional!"

"Professor! I love you!"

And just like that, nearly all the students in the Great Hall fighting among each to other to take him to the dance. And when he said nearly everyone, it was literally nearly everyone, say, about 85% of them can be seen asked him to the dance or profess their love to him. The rest of them busy with their own partners doing that obnoxious public display of affections, how absurd! Some famous couple, even Mr. Weasley and Ms. Brown grabbing each other hair fighting to get a chance to dance with him, excuse him for a while, he suddenly feel the urge to puke.

"SILENCE!" Ah… at least… tell them all, Minerva. He promised he will treat her to a glass of Butterbeer the next Hogsmeade visit, he promised. "He won't be going to the dance with you all."

"Because he will come with me!"

That was the day, for the first time in his life, Severus Snape puke while Minerva McGonagall batting her eyelashes at him.

Looking at the unhelpful old fool looking at him with pity in his eyes and what did he see? Amusement? Making him sure he's in another dimension, perhaps by one of Voldemort's spell before he died? He 100% sure it was because of the potions though, it makes much more sense looking at the masses effect.

Just look, he swore he will get the antidote! No matter what! And he will succeed! For there are no unsolvable potions for such a potion master like him!

But where to start? He knew it not that easy as it looked. There are too many unpredictable factors. Should he first analyze the potions? If he looked at it, he's not even sure the true effect of the potions. This can be complicated.

In the midst of chaos, his eyes met the honey brown eyes across the Griffindor table, her body had been trapped by a small crowd surrounding her. And when their eyes met, at least he knew now which one he should do first.

Talking with Ms. Granger.