Who Would Have Thought
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Author's Note: Keep those reviews coming! I know this chapter is pretty short, but it seemed like a good place to leave off.
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Chapter 2:
One chaotic week had past by (the first week of the term is always the worst), and Hermione had only conversed with the new Potions teacher one other time, which was basically just a small, polite conversation which ended in awkward silence as Hermione buried her nose in her book. Hermione could have kicked herself for being so rude. But another part of her wanted to punch Malfoy's perfect little smile every time he flaunted it at her. He had no right to treat her like dirt for seven years then turn on the charm like nothing happened. It frustrated her like no other.
It was Saturday, and she always helped in the library on Saturdays. She was helping a young 1st year Hufflepuff student find a book on dragons when she heard a loud thud on the checkout desk. It was Draco with around eight or nine books. She handed the book to the Hufflepuff without even glancing over at him, her eyes focused solely on Draco.
"I would like to check these out," he said casually.
"These are Restricted books," she pointed out in curiosity.
"Gosh, do I need a signed permission slip or something?" he said, rolling his eyes.
"No, but... why do you need all of these?" Death Eater! screamed in her mind.
"If you must know, which is obviously correct, Professor Snape has fallen rather ill. He's tried several potions already, none of them quite curing his ailment. I asked if I could help and he flat-out refused. So, naturally, I've decided to take matters into my own hands and help anyways."
Hermione suddenly felt terrible, both for Professor Snape and another for actually thinking Draco might be studying Dark Arts with those books. She fervently exclaimed, "Is there anything I could do to help?"
"Well... as a matter of fact, yes."
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So that was how the "Let's Cure Snape" project got underway. Draco decided that in order for Hermione to help him with the potion, she would have to witness Snape's symptoms hands on. They were walking together silently, the only noise being the rhymic sound of Hermione's high heels as she walked. He glanced over at her, finding it rather amusing the way she kept on touching her hair and twiddling her fingers.
"So... how is he?" she asked.
"Well, he's rather cranky and grouchy, actually he's just downright mean."
"Oh... I thought that was... normal for him." The words hurt to be talking ill of a fellow colleague, but the truth is sometimes painful.
Draco laughed. "More than usual is what I meant."
When they arrived at the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey warned them before they went into the Snape's room. "He's gotten rather delusional. Don't take anything he says to you too seriously. The rules are only one visitor at a time per day."
Draco turned to her. "Well, I guess I'll wait for you outside."
"Oh, great." Hermione mentally prepared herself before entering the darkened room. She knocked on the door quietly.
"Who is it?" yelled Professor Snape, awakening immediately from his deep slumber.
She opened the door and poked her head inside. "It's me, Professor, Hermione."
"Who?" he looked at her quizzically.
She went all the way into the room, shifting her weight uneasily from one foot to the other as she spoke. "Hermione Granger, your former student and now fellow colleague?" Oh my god, does he have amnesia?
The professor's usually clear eyes suddenly became dark pools of tar as he pointed his finger maliciously at her. "You're... you're... Potter's friend!" he said as if he had had a revelation.
"Well... yes."
He cut her off before she could say any more. "Granger... You're Weasley's friend too!"
"That's right, but-"
"I know you! You're that smart-alecky, know-it-all, little Miss Goody Two Shoes Gryffindor that's always causing trouble!"
"No, Professor-"
"Tell me, what is the main ingredient of most memory potions?"
Hermione couldn't believe her ears. Snape was actually testing her on memory potions! He was starting to get annoying, so she decided to play along.
"Jobberknoll feathers."
"Wrong!" He started laughing madly.
"Wrong! Wrong wrong wrong! Wrong wrong! Wrong!"
Hermione couldn't stand his foolishness anymore. She said goodbye as politely as possible through gritted teeth, slamming the door on her way out. She walked swiftly past Draco, not even noticing him.
"Hey," he said, suddenly standing up, jogging towards her, "how'd it go?"
"Awful. He's amnesic and completely off his rocker."
"It's the DADA curse," replied Draco, matter-of-factly.
"Whatever. We need to get started on this ASAP," she said, still not slowing down.
"That bad, eh?"
"Oh, yeah."
They decided to meet after dinner in the library, but something was still bothering Hermione. "Draco, what is the main ingredient in most memory potions?"
"That's easy. Jobberknoll feathers."
She smiled, looking very please with herself. "That's what I thought."
"Why?" he said with raised eyebrows.
"Oh, nothing."
