Bad Dreams
Potions. Harry hated potions. This was the one class he wished he could just do away with instead of having to put up with Malfoy and Snape. The final bell rang as Harry sat down next to Ron, laying his bag on the floor and pulling out his potions book. Without a sound, except for the dungeon door slamming, Professor Snape glided in, black robes swishing. Harry waited for the customary glare that the Potions teacher usually gave him and was almost disappointed when it didn't happen. The class had settled down and quieted upon the arrival of their dark-clothed, beloved Potions Master (not), and all that could be heard was Professor Snape's quill scratching furiously over a piece of parchment. Then the quill stopped suddenly and Snape stood, folding his arms across his chest.
"It is required that I teach you how to make and counteract love potions." He said, curling is disgust and giving a silencing glare to those who had dared to giggle. "A love potion? Oh great!" Harry thought to himself. "Just what Snape needs." He muttered to Ron, who was having trouble containing a snort. Snape turned his head sharply towards Harry.
"What was that, Potter?" he said with malice. Harry looked Snape boldly in the eyes. "Nothing, sir." Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Nothing, indeed. Ten points from Gryffindor." He growled, receiving a groan from the other Gryffindors. Then he went on to, reluctantly explain the lesson and instruct them in love potion making.
When the bell to end class had rung, Snape assigned a two-foot long essay on the effects of a love potion, due in two days. Harry snorted in amusement as he retrieved his bag from the floor and turned to Ron and Hermione. "The affects of a love potion? That's obvious isn't it?" he said with a laugh. Ron chuckled and Hermione shook her head, then gulped, looking at someone behind Harry. He was about to ask what they were staring at when he was cut off with "Potter, in my office, now!"
Potions. Harry hated potions. This was the one class he wished he could just do away with instead of having to put up with Malfoy and Snape. The final bell rang as Harry sat down next to Ron, laying his bag on the floor and pulling out his potions book. Without a sound, except for the dungeon door slamming, Professor Snape glided in, black robes swishing. Harry waited for the customary glare that the Potions teacher usually gave him and was almost disappointed when it didn't happen. The class had settled down and quieted upon the arrival of their dark-clothed, beloved Potions Master (not), and all that could be heard was Professor Snape's quill scratching furiously over a piece of parchment. Then the quill stopped suddenly and Snape stood, folding his arms across his chest.
"It is required that I teach you how to make and counteract love potions." He said, curling is disgust and giving a silencing glare to those who had dared to giggle. "A love potion? Oh great!" Harry thought to himself. "Just what Snape needs." He muttered to Ron, who was having trouble containing a snort. Snape turned his head sharply towards Harry.
"What was that, Potter?" he said with malice. Harry looked Snape boldly in the eyes. "Nothing, sir." Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Nothing, indeed. Ten points from Gryffindor." He growled, receiving a groan from the other Gryffindors. Then he went on to, reluctantly explain the lesson and instruct them in love potion making.
When the bell to end class had rung, Snape assigned a two-foot long essay on the effects of a love potion, due in two days. Harry snorted in amusement as he retrieved his bag from the floor and turned to Ron and Hermione. "The affects of a love potion? That's obvious isn't it?" he said with a laugh. Ron chuckled and Hermione shook her head, then gulped, looking at someone behind Harry. He was about to ask what they were staring at when he was cut off with "Potter, in my office, now!"