Title: The Quiet Ones
Author: Nat Carter
Fandom: Harry Potter
Paring: None. Odd little gen-type fic.
Rating: G
Status: new
Archive: Yes
Series/Sequel: Nopep
Disclaimers: J.K. Rowling created them and I'm damn sure she didn't intend them for this purpose. But I'm not making any money, so what the hell.
Summary: treecat's birthdayfic. HappyDrunkSnape. Sort of.
A/N: Happy birthday, treecat!
Professor Snape glided between rows of bubbling cauldrons, arms folded across his chest, hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe. "Very nice, Mr. Malfoy . . . A bit too orange, Potter . . . Mr. Weasley, I distinctly remember saying it was *not* supposed to foam . . . " Snape glanced into Neville's cauldron, then shook his head, disgusted. "I honestly don't know why I bother," he murmured, just loud enough for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to hear.
Harry's mouth dropped open, his eyebrows drew together in an expression that was so very indignant. Hermione put a hand on his wrist. "Leave it, Harry, he's not worth it." Harry closed his mouth and concentrated on making his potion less orange-y, shooting a discreet glare at Snape.
Neville smiled. "Wanna see something neat?" he murmured, showing them a pinch of something he had hidden in his robes. He closed his hand partially over the herb and began stirring the cauldron jerkily. "Professor Snape," he called urgently. "Professor, does mine smell strange to you?"
A long-suffering look on his face, Snape approached Neville's cauldron. "I wouldn't be surprised, Longbottom, everything you do turns out strangely . . ." He leaned closer to the cauldron.
Neville winked at Harry, then released the herb into the cauldron.
Neville's cauldron fairly exploded, sending a flood of reddish goop all over Snape, the table, and the floor. The room erupted in laughter, fueled by the sight of Snape looking rather like a sickly kitten someone had tried to drown. The class silenced in anticipation and fear as Snape's lips worked, no sound escaping. "Longbottom," he managed finally, his voice seething. "Longbottom, you . . . you--" he paused, shook his head. "You're in for the longest--"
The class stared as something like a smile appeared on Snape's face. "--In for the longest detention of--" Snape giggled; the class boggled. "--Of your miserable little--" A larger, barely controlled giggle. "--little life!"
And Snape, to the astonishment of the class, burst into hysterical, uncontrollable laughter. He leaned against a table for support, wiping red goo and tears of mirth off his face.
"Class--class dismissed," he managed between giggles, scampering (that was the only accurate word for it, really, not a run or a walk but a genuine scamper) out of the room, leaving the students to clean up.
Neville turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione, grinning. "See?" he said proudly.
"How'd you *do* that?" Ron asked enviously. "We haven't learned about anything like that yet."
Neville shrugged. "I looked it up. I thought it would be useful to know."
Hermione shook her head, carrying her cauldron to the sink. "It's always the quiet ones," she muttered.
Author: Nat Carter
Fandom: Harry Potter
Paring: None. Odd little gen-type fic.
Rating: G
Status: new
Archive: Yes
Series/Sequel: Nopep
Disclaimers: J.K. Rowling created them and I'm damn sure she didn't intend them for this purpose. But I'm not making any money, so what the hell.
Summary: treecat's birthdayfic. HappyDrunkSnape. Sort of.
A/N: Happy birthday, treecat!
Professor Snape glided between rows of bubbling cauldrons, arms folded across his chest, hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe. "Very nice, Mr. Malfoy . . . A bit too orange, Potter . . . Mr. Weasley, I distinctly remember saying it was *not* supposed to foam . . . " Snape glanced into Neville's cauldron, then shook his head, disgusted. "I honestly don't know why I bother," he murmured, just loud enough for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to hear.
Harry's mouth dropped open, his eyebrows drew together in an expression that was so very indignant. Hermione put a hand on his wrist. "Leave it, Harry, he's not worth it." Harry closed his mouth and concentrated on making his potion less orange-y, shooting a discreet glare at Snape.
Neville smiled. "Wanna see something neat?" he murmured, showing them a pinch of something he had hidden in his robes. He closed his hand partially over the herb and began stirring the cauldron jerkily. "Professor Snape," he called urgently. "Professor, does mine smell strange to you?"
A long-suffering look on his face, Snape approached Neville's cauldron. "I wouldn't be surprised, Longbottom, everything you do turns out strangely . . ." He leaned closer to the cauldron.
Neville winked at Harry, then released the herb into the cauldron.
Neville's cauldron fairly exploded, sending a flood of reddish goop all over Snape, the table, and the floor. The room erupted in laughter, fueled by the sight of Snape looking rather like a sickly kitten someone had tried to drown. The class silenced in anticipation and fear as Snape's lips worked, no sound escaping. "Longbottom," he managed finally, his voice seething. "Longbottom, you . . . you--" he paused, shook his head. "You're in for the longest--"
The class stared as something like a smile appeared on Snape's face. "--In for the longest detention of--" Snape giggled; the class boggled. "--Of your miserable little--" A larger, barely controlled giggle. "--little life!"
And Snape, to the astonishment of the class, burst into hysterical, uncontrollable laughter. He leaned against a table for support, wiping red goo and tears of mirth off his face.
"Class--class dismissed," he managed between giggles, scampering (that was the only accurate word for it, really, not a run or a walk but a genuine scamper) out of the room, leaving the students to clean up.
Neville turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione, grinning. "See?" he said proudly.
"How'd you *do* that?" Ron asked enviously. "We haven't learned about anything like that yet."
Neville shrugged. "I looked it up. I thought it would be useful to know."
Hermione shook her head, carrying her cauldron to the sink. "It's always the quiet ones," she muttered.