A/N: Written for DLP's April Humor Contest, came in second place. Completed one-shot, so add as a favorite instead of alert =)
In a dank, deserted corner of the Hogwarts dungeons, two individuals were plotting over a cauldron. One was a boy and the other a girl, but both were fair of skin and fiery of hair. Their pale forms were obscured by a mist rising in a steam-shaped spiral from the potion they were brewing.
The boy gave a dark chuckle, shifting in his seat. "The potion's done. Are you ready for tomorrow?"
The girl shot him an irritated glance and grunted out an agreement. "Of course I'm ready you daft git, we've been planning this for months!"
She ladled up the potion into two vials and vanished the rest. "And keep it down, you never know who might lurking down here."
He brushed her concerns off. "This place is deserted. We've been down here for a month and nobody's noticed."
"Except for us, you mean," she hissed. "There could be other people brewing or doing who-knows-what in some other empty room nearby."
In an empty room nearby, Snape's head shot up, eyes narrowing. His Snape senses were tingling.
Harry Potter slouched down the stairs to the Common Room, hair tousled from sleep. He plopped into a chair to wait for Ron and Hermione before departing for breakfast.
Hermione slouched down the other set of stairs, hair frizzled from sleep, and dumped herself into the chair opposite his.
"Next time, Harry," her voice layered with exhaustion, "you study for Transfiguration ahead of time."
Harry grunted an affirmative.
Ron shambled down the stairs, looking damnable cheerful, Harry thought. Altogether too cheerful, even considering his love of breakfast.
"You guys ready for breakfast?" he asked with enthusiasm, waking up a Seventh-year student who had fallen asleep in a corner.
Harry and Hermione rose in unison and trudged out of the Common Room, following Ron to the Great Hall.
The trio took their customary seats at the Gryffindor table and started filling their plates with food.
"Pumpkin juice, Harry?" Ron asked brightly. Harry nodded his thanks, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, and took a sip.
The meal would have passed in silence if not for Ron's usual chatter filling the quiet circle.
"-and so if they can snag Haliburton for the center Chaser spot, I think the Cannons stand a chance to at least make it to the quarter-finals, but – Hey!" he yelped as Hermione knocked over a glass of pumpkin juice onto him.
"Oh, Merlin – I'm so sorry, Ron, here, let me-" Hermione babbled, as she tried to mop the spill up with a napkin.
Ginny appeared from out of nowhere and interrupted. "Merlin, Hermione, are you a witch or not? Evanesco. Sicca." The spill vanished and Ron's robes were dried.
"Thanks, Gin," Ron grinned at his sister.
"No problem," she replied as she sat down, eating her toast primly.
Ginny poured a new glass of juice for Hermione. "They should serve coffee in the mornings," she mused.
Hermione pillowed her head in her arms, resigned to the time-line continuing to move.
Harry, meanwhile, was struggling between sleepiness and a resurgence of a morning problem. Girls wear altogether too much clothes, he thought, idly running his hand through his hair. Ginny had very nice legs. A great shame to hide them behind baggy robes.
Seeing that Hermione was done with breakfast, he finished off his last roll and dragged the bottomless pit that was his best friend to Transfiguration and a much dreaded quiz. At least I studied, he thought with a quirk of his lips. Whatever Ron was doing yesterday after dinner, it wasn't Transfiguration.
Harry had a difficult time concentrating during the quiz. The recurrence of his morning wood still had not gone down, and he was having a hard time thinking with all the blood being routed away from his brain.
He winced at the pun he had thought up, and shifted in his seat. His situation was still concealed, but he wanted to finish the quiz before it got any worse.
Hermione shifted in her seat, biting her lip. She was nearly done with her quiz, but the room seemed to be warming up and the heat was making her uncomfortable. Either that or she was coming down with a fever, but she didn't feel the associated symptoms.
She uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, and stifled a moan. Well, that was new. She was suddenly quite sure that she did not have a fever.
As soon as Transfiguration let out, Harry and Hermione both rushed out of the classroom and to the nearest respective restrooms.
Ron made his way from the class to a corridor on the fourth floor. As he strolled along, a hand shot out of an alcove and dragged him inside. "Ow!" he yelped.
"Keep it down!" Ginny hissed in an undertone. "What's going on?"
He huffed, tearing his arm out of her grasp. "It's going just fine. They couldn't sit still at all during class."
She crossed her arms. "Don't get all pissy with me. I'm the one who came up with the secondary effect, remember?"
Ron shrugged. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. We've got class soon, so I need to get going. We'll see each other during lunch."
He strode out of the alcove and down the corridor, an oh-so-casual expression painted on his face.
Harry rushed into the bathroom and into a stall. He needed to get rid of this problem now, or he wouldn't be able to concentrate during Charms, and the last thing he needed was to mess up an animation. He was shaky enough on them without his libido interfering.
He unfastened his robes and shrugged off his pants, sitting down on the toilet. He pictured Ginny in her Quidditch uniform, and started stroking, when –
"Who's there?" a voice echoed out of a neighboring stall.
"Colin?" Harry asked, startled.
"Oh, is that you, Harry? Marks has been stalking me all day, and I thought maybe you were him. But no, I guess he has Defense now…" Colin rambled, but Harry tuned him out.
He was still hard, even though Colin was yammering away right next to him. What was wrong with his hormones?
There was a sudden silence, and Harry suspected that Colin had asked him a question, but he couldn't remember anything Colin had said at all.
"Colin," he gritted out, "are you going to be here a while?"
"Oh, yeah, I'm here for the long haul. What about you?" came back the chipper reply.
"Urghk – nevermind, I'm done," he grunted, struggling to pull his pants up. I'm just going to have to bear through, he thought. I just hope I don't give teeth to whatever we're practicing on this week.
Hermione rushed into the bathroom and into a stall, not giving a second glance to the person in front of the sink. She needed to get rid of this problem now, or she wouldn't be able to concentrate during charms and she wouldn't be able to fill her House Point quota and the world would end.
She unfastened her robes and shrugged off her pants, sitting down on the toilet. She pictured Ron in his Quidditch uniform, and started thrusting, when –
"Hermione? Are you alright?" a voice echoed from the bathroom.
"Lavender?" Hermione asked, startled.
"Yep, it's me. I think somebody's hexed me, because my glamour charms keep fading. I've never had this problem before, and I don't know how to fix it," Lavender wailed.
She was still wet, even though Lavender was yammering away right outside the stall. What was wrong with her hormones?
There was a sudden silence, and Hermione suspected that Lavender had asked her if she knew how to fix her problem, but he couldn't remember with any certainty.
"Lavender," she gritted out, "try a Finite on your face. If that doesn't work, sweep yourself with dispelling charms."
"Oh, thanks Hermione! I'll try that out," came the excited reply. "Are you in there for the long haul?"
"Urghk – nevermind, I'm done," she grunted in frustration, pulling her pants up. I'm just going to have to bear through, she thought. I just hope I manage to get a complex secondary effect for extra credit.
Charms was a struggle, though it could have gone much worse, Harry thought. The irony that they had been doing chewing animations was not lost on him, but they weren't combined with transfigurations yet. He had thus managed to avoid pillows with teeth, though he couldn't figure out how he had created the carnivorous closet in the back of the room. Professor Flitwick was still trying to undo it as they walked out to lunch.
He had managed to bear down on his distraction with an iron force of will that he had not known he possessed, thought he thought with a twinge that it would have been useful during last year's Occlumency lessons.
Hermione was looking frazzled, though. She had been able to do the standard chewing animation without difficulty, but the secondary swallowing effect had eluded her. She was muttering imprecations against everything from Merlin to the pillow to Ron, who was wearing a shit-eating grin, "-and why are you smiling like that?" she turned on him, voice hoarse.
Ron turned the smile on her, and she felt her knees go weak. "Lunch, of course!"
She gave a groan, which tapered off into a small whimper. "The day's only half done?" she whispered in despair.
Harry nodded in sympathy, though he thought his cause for distress was rather different from her own. After all, misbehaving hormones were rather more difficult to control than misbehaving magic.
Lunch passed with much of its usual fanfare. Ron ate enough food for four people, Hermione read a book, and Harry ogled Ginny.
"So, Harry, want to play a game of chess before our next class?" Ron asked, either ignoring or not noticing the venomous glare Ginny sent him.
"Err… well, Ron, I've got to – uh, yeah alright," Harry mumbled, deciding that if he could get through Charms he could get through Potions as well.
They reached the Common Room and Ron ran upstairs to get his chessboard. While lounging in a chair, Harry noticed Hermione being badgered by Lavender… for a spell? That wasn't something one saw every day.
Ron brought his chessboard back down and started setting up the pieces.
Harry played with half of his mind on the game and made several rookie mistakes, but he doubted very much he would have won anyways. He had only won once against Ron, and that was after Ron got smashed on Firewhiskey after a Quidditch victory in their Fifth year.
After his embarrassing loss, Harry packed up his bag and followed Hermione as she dragged Ron off by the ear to their Potion's class.
"Today," Snape said, cloak billowing in his usual self-aggrandizing manner, "you will be brewing a Purging Draught. This potion will be brewed in pairs, and the instructions are on the board. Begin," he finished, watching the organized scramble for ingredients.
Hermione plopped down into the seat next to Harry, who looked at her in confusion. He shrugged at Ron, who shrugged back and went to sit next to the Ravenclaw who was Hermione's usual partner.
Harry chopped, mashed, and diced the ingredients with his usual efficiency, though he had to stop Hermione from making several mistakes during brewing. She still looked frazzled, he noticed.
"Hermione, what's up with you today?" he whispered, looking around to make sure Snape was nowhere nearby.
"I'm fine, Harry," she whispered back, brushing her hair out of her face. "I'm just-"
Whatever she said next was lost in the din of noise resulting from Neville's exploding potion. As Neville was hustled off to the Hospital Wing, Harry noticed that their potion had finished and took it off the fire. He thought they made a rather good job of it, though Snape had been noticeably absent as a distraction during the lesson.
Snape, Harry noticed, was sweeping the room with his wand. Almost as if he were clearing the room of fumes from the explosion.
The Professor went back to his desk and motioned the class to silence. "You should all have finished your potions by now," he drawled. "If you have not, then you have my condolences on your zero for today. Let's see, who has an acceptable sample…" he asked himself as he inspected everybody's potions.
His mouth twisted in an unpleasant smirk as he stopped in front of Harry's and Hermione's potion. "This will have to do, I suppose," he said, raising the sample vial to the light.
"As the rest of you imbeciles have no doubt inhaled the colorless, odorless poison that Longbottom somehow managed to create, you will each take a Purging Draught to spare me the paperwork of twenty dead students," Snape swept the room with a glance.
"This potion is smooth enough to not cause an actual physical purging, but if you have a weak stomach you may wish to take it over a basin," he sneered.
Harry shrugged and scooped up a ladle of the potion into a vial. He didn't particularly care for airborne poisons. He grimaced at the foul taste as he chugged it down, then clenched his mouth shut as a wave of nausea assaulted him. He felt better afterwards, and assumed that the potion had worked.
Harry glanced at Hermione, who was struggling over a basin. She had been feeling rather off today, he thought, and went to help her out. By the time he got there, Ron had already reached her and managed to make a mess of her robes in an attempt to clean her up.
Harry caught the tail-end of Hermione's tirade. "-don't need your help, I'm perfectly capable of casting a Scourgify by myself, thank you very much! If you are quite done making a mess of things, go sit down before Professor Snape takes points off," she whispered, furious.
Harry chuckled; she looked so cute when she was angry, notwithstanding the mess on her robes, which she dispatched with her more usual calm.
Unbeknownst to the trio, Snape was listening in to their conversation. He found a certain dark amusement in hearing Weasely told off. "Ten points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger," he whispered, repressing a smirk. "And five points from Gryffindor for stealing an opportunity from me."
Harry approached Hermione now that he was sure she had gotten her temper in control. "So, feeling better?"
She whipped her head up from inspecting her robes and smiled. "Oh, Harry! Yes, I'm feeling much better; I'm sure you noticed that I was feeling a bit off today, but the potion took care of it nicely. Even if Ron managed to bungle it up," she finished, shifting to a sour mood.
"Don't let Ron get to you," came the automatic response. After five long years of listening to Ron and Hermione bicker, it had become his standard go-to when comforting her after the fact.
"Of course not," she replied, smoothing down her robes. They made their way back to their table, where Hermione was surprised by the finished product.
Harry gave her a satisfied smirk. "Apparently it was the best in the class. Professor Snape used it for the rest of the students, too."
As Hermione collected another sample of the potion for grading, she continued a light interrogation. "So how did we end up with such a successful potion? I distinctly remember being distracted while we were brewing," she said, giving him a long look.
Harry gave a Gallic shrug. "Professor Snape wasn't really bothering me this time. We know I can brew from my OWLs," he said as he scowled playfully.
She swatted his shoulder. "Of course you can, I wasn't implying anything."
He laughed as they trooped out of the classroom. "Of course you weren't. You want to go check up on Neville in the Hospital Wing before dinner?"
She agreed and they set off to check on their walking disaster of a classmate.
As they were walking, Harry gave Hermione a discreet once-over. He broached his next topic carefully. "Do you have any idea what might have caused your earlier, err-"
"Distraction?" she finished for him. He nodded.
"Oh, well, it must have been something at breakfast," she replied, though she looked a bit flustered. "Though I've never known the House Elves to undercook anything."
"I think the pumpkin juice was a bit off," Harry mused.
Their visit to the Hospital Wing was brief, as Neville was asleep. They did learn that he was recovering well, so with their consciences assuaged, the pair started to head back to Gryffindor Tower.
Hermione stopped suddenly in front of an empty classroom. "Oh, no, I've still got something on my robes. Will you help me take a look?" she asked, opening the classroom door.
Harry turned to look at her. "You want me," he said, each word laced with deliberation, "to help you check your robes."
"Yes, Harry," she said in a very serious tone, though the expression on her face made it very clear that was not all Harry would be checking.
Harry grinned and gave a small bow. "Lead the way, Madame."
In a dank, deserted corner of the Hogwarts dungeons, two individuals were having a screaming row.
"What do you mean they're together?" shouted the girl.
"I mean they up and told me they decided to give a go yesterday!" the boy raised his hands in defense. "This is all your fault, anyways! You were brewing the potion!"
The girl jabbed a finger at him. "The potion was fine, you bungled this up! How exactly did you switch our hairs for theirs? Our hair is red!"