Wrong Gone Potion The
Summary: You all thought that Harry taking remedial potions was just a cover story, but what if it was true…
Disclaimer: Potter Harry own not do I. Duh.
The sun shone brightly on the fresh green grass and children of all ages were outside happily enjoying the wonderful weather. The birds chirped, the butterflies flapped contentedly and somewhere a warm cuddly bunny rabbit was attacking innocent knights on a quest for the Holy Grail. However, not all the inhabitants of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry were enjoying this rare and truly wonderful day. Deep in the dungeons three students were being tortured most gruesomely by practically unspeakable methods, which few dare utter the name of. But the author must prevail, even if it might strike terror into the very hearts of her young readers. These children were subjected to the most ghastly of all things, the unsightly, the odious, the painful…remedial potions.
Neville, Harry and Ron were standing glumly in front of their cauldrons as Snape surveyed them with obvious disgust. "You are all here," he sneered, "because you are so distressingly," he paused here and looked pained, "substandard in the art of potions. Therefore it is my unfortunate responsibility to try and tutor you an acceptable level."
Neville whimpered and Snape shot him a glare, which really wasn't the best thing to do, because Neville whimpered again and looked inches away from wetting himself. Snape had apparently decided to ignore him now and continued with his speech.
"Today you will be brewing a rather basic potion for removing hemorrhoids," Snape shifted uncomfortably and continued, "The instructions are on the board," and as he waved his wand the directions appeared in scrawling letters across the blackboard. "You have one hour. Go."
Ron started grumbling to himself as he read the board. Neville gathered up his own ingredients and the three Gryffindors started brewing their separate potions. The minutes ticked by, and at quarter past, Snape came around to inspect each of their creations. Harry glanced around to check is progress with the others, and to his growing horror saw that while Ron's and his potions were similar shades of yellow-green booger, Neville's potion was neon green and a greenish gas was seeping out of his cauldron.
'Cheese,' Harry decided, 'old, dirty, moldy cheese. That's what it smelled like.' He felt sorry for Neville; Snape was probably going to give him a detention.
Snape seemed to be thinking along the same line, and opened his mouth to tell Neville just how stupid he was, but in doing so he inhaled a rather large amount of the cheesy gas and erupted into a coughing fit. While this was happening, Ron leaned over to Harry and whispered, "Poor Neville."
At least, that's what he thought he whispered, but it came out, "Neville poor."
Harry looked at him oddly, and tried to ask him to repeat that, but he couldn't. Instead of saying 'what did you say,' it came out "say you did what?"
Harry immediately looked horrified. Why couldn't he speak? He glanced over at Ron and saw the same look of surprise and fear echoed on his face.
"Up shut!" Snape barked, and then realizing what he had just shouted, he clapped his hand over his mouth and looked horrified.
"Happened what? This like talking I am why!" Ron moaned, covering his face with his hands. Harry looked lost and Neville seemed to be trying to disappear.
Snape however, was not one to be stumped by a conundrum such as the one he was faced with. He thought long and hard, until the solution hit him like a blast of cheesy gas, which, incidentally, hit him at that very moment.
"Neville," Snape said, and then with growing fervor cried out, "This of cause the is Neville! Us to this did he!"
Comprehension dawned on the two other Gryffindors as they realized what their professor was saying. Neville had done it again.
Neville looked up, and upon seeing that two of his Gryffindor compatriots and a very enraged Slytherin potions master were advancing on him with a rather malicious glint in their eyes, not unlike the one Dumbledore has when he prepares to clean out his closet, He decided that the best mode of action was to be strong. He stood up, took a big breath, and promptly turned on his heel and ran screaming from the dungeons, "Me help! Me help! Crazy all they're! Me help!"
At this point the author must take a moment to explain something. If Neville was at any other school, the sight of him being chased around by Ron, Harry, and Professor Snape would cause quite a stir. But this was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where normalcy is practically unheard of, so any mad escapades of Neville and whoever he angered were soon forgotten.
A Few Days Later
"Neville, I just don't understand it," Hermione griped, "Cows did this to you? But how in the name of Merlin did they dress you up like your grandmother? The bruises I can understand, but the clothes?"
Neville muttered something which fired Hermione up again, "You accidentally enchanted them to be fashion designers? Neville, I'm getting Pomfrey, just…don't do anything. At all." And with that final remark, Hermione hurried off to get Madame Pomfrey, muttering about idiotic boys and clumsiness.
Fin
Ok, that's it, read and…REVIEW! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!