Disclaimer: I can partially lay claim to some of this chapter's contents. But not really...

Unexpected Potions

The students had only a moment, but it was all they needed. The routine followed before, during and after potions class was now thoroughly ingrained within them that they hardly had to think anymore. While waiting for their Professor, they would bustle about, taking books and quills from their bags while chatting idly, though not loudly. They would all have one ear towards the door. Even those with the best hearing and seated closest to it would not hear the footsteps, only the grabbing of the handle before it was thrust open. And this was the just moment they needed.

Communication would cease mid-sentence, and silence reigned a full half second before the ominous billows of robes made their way towards the front of the class.

Today was no different.

Harry and Hermione sat beside each other, altogether unimpressed by the now traditional entrance. It may have frightened them as first years, though they were so used to it now after five years, they merely waited, along with the rest of the class, for the ubiquitous ingredients to appear on the board.

Instead, however, the Professor merely turned to glare at the class for a little longer than usual.

"Tell me," his voice rang around the room. "What do you know about Demons?"

This certainly took many by surprise. Was this not more of a Defence Against the Dark Arts topic? The students looked at one another, though no one moved.

Finally, though, a solitary hand rose slowly to teeter precariously in the air, almost as if the owner did not particularly wish it to be seen.

Half a sneer crossed the Professor's face.

"Why am I not surprised? Yes, Miss Granger?"

Hermione had been in two minds about whether to put her hand up. She had learnt long ago that to display her knowledge freely in front of their Potions Master was a quick and easy way to loose house points. Not that she cared much for them now anyway, though it could still make her exasperated.

"Demons," she began cautiously, "Were once summoned by many wizards and used as servants. They could be confined to this world for an infinite amount of time, residing in an object, usually an amulet." She hesitated a moment, though Snape did not speak, not even to deduct points, he only continued to stare at her. Encouraged, she continued.

"Their summoning reached a peak in 1562, however, their abundance almost led to a great war due to the nature of tasks the summoners were giving to the Demons. Subsequently, the Ministries of the world conducted one of the largest raids ever documented, and confiscated every object known to house a Demon. They also destroyed every piece of knowledge relating to the primary summoning, which is the summoning of a Demon from Ifurin, their place of origin, so they could no longer wreak havoc on our world.

It was also said that Ifurin's gate, the only way a Demon can come or go between our world and theirs, was sealed by powerful magic."

Hermione stopped to take a breath, curious as to why she was able to go on for so long without a biting remark from the Professor. There was a little more information that she knew, although she debated about whether she would just be inviting a remark about being a know-it-all. Deciding enough was said, she did not continue.

The Professor continued to stare at her for a little longer, arms folded across his chest. After a moment, he pulled his wand from inside his robes and waved it towards the blackboard, where ingredients and instructions materialized. Only then did he speak.

"Miss Granger is correct," he announced to the class.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, wide eyed, before hastily returning their eyes towards the front of the class. Neither had ever heard these words flow from his lips before.

"Upon the board are the ingredients for a potion used long ago to warn an individual of a Demon invading their body or mind."

Students gazed confusedly towards each other. How on earth could a potion warn of that?

"What Miss Granger failed to mention was that Demons can rarely exert any magical force upon anything. They attack an individual's mind. A Demon can make you hallucinate; they can distort your memories, plant thoughts and feelings into your head. They are creatures of an insidious nature, which can rarely be stopped. That is why this potion was created." He gestured towards the board while pacing in front of the class. "When taken, the individual is far more aware of their own thoughts and feelings, and they are able to detect any Demon invasion."

Professor Snape continued to eye his class. One bold Ravenclaw raised his hand, albeit timidly.

"But Professor, if Demons are no longer a problem, I mean, if the Ministry got rid of them all, why are we learning to make this potion?"

Snape inclined his head and narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps that is something Miss Granger would like to explain." His head swung around to meet her gaze.

She looked at him, utterly perplexed. Was he asking her to display her knowledge?

"Well," she began, slowly, "It has been rumoured that a few objects containing Demons were never confiscated by the Ministry, that they're sill owned and potentially used today. Apparently, a seer, long ago, predicted that there would be a time when Ifurin's gate would be opened once more, and an army of Demons would be unleashed onto our world. This, of course, is also just a rumour, as no record of the vision has been found."

Snape nodded curtly, a movement that was barely noticeable, and continued himself, "Although there has been little activity of Demons in the last few centuries, it nevertheless pays to be vigilant."

Mad Eye's common saying filtered through Hermione's mind, and she suppressed a giggle while absently thinking that he would approve.

Snape said nothing more, except to instruct them to begin making the infinitely complex potion on the board in front of them.

The lesson passed uneventfully, with Snape not nearly paying as much attention as usual to the class' failings on one aspect of the potion or another. The class noticed his conspicuous lack of stalking presence, and a quite hum of conversation was risked.

"Not really with it today, is he?" Harry whispered to Hermione, motioning over his shoulder at the Professor who was currently at his desk, apparently engrossed with some material on a piece of parchment. Hermione knew his unspoken words were 'wish he could be a little less with it more of the time', but her brain had latched onto something and suddenly their Potion Master's odd behaviour became all the more peculiar.

After class, Harry and Hermione met up with Ron in the common room, where they had planned to dump their things and spend their lunch hour and coinciding free period around the Quidditch pitch. Harry noticed Hermione surreptitiously place a small book in the pocket of her cloak. No doubt about what she would be doing while he and Ron were soaring above the grounds.

Walking down the steps on their way to the entrance hall, Hermione commented on their Potion Master's choice of subject matter.

"I mean," she said, "I suppose it's not all that surprising. We have, on occasion, learnt about quite a few potions that we would probably never have to brew in our lifetime, the thing is, we were supposed to brew Doxicide today, he said so after last lesson."

"Hermione, don't take this the wrong way," Ron shifted his broom onto his shoulder, "but you listen way too much to what that man says. So he changed his mind. So what?"

Hermione gave him her exasperated look and sigh to highlight it, "I listen to him, Ron, because he's our teacher. And it wouldn't matter at all, except that in the five years that I have been in his class, he has never changed his mind about teaching anything. It's always, 'read up on such and such a potion and we shall begin it next week.' He has never digressed from the syllabus. That is, never until he taught us Defence Against the Dark Arts in third year. You do remember that, don't you, how he was trying to give everyone the not-so-subtle hint that Professor Lupin was a Werewolf?"

"What?" Ron didn't heed her warning glare, "so you think that one of the teachers is a Demon?"

She rolled her eyes, "No, of course not. It just seems…strange, that's all."

She said nothing more about it and the rest of the way to the Quidditch pitch was filled with Ron proclaiming once again, as he had been all year so far, how glad he was that he was not accepted into NEWT class for potions. Harry fuelled his proclamations with corresponding comments of how he wished their positions were swapped.

He did not, however, dismiss Hermione's claims as easily as Ron. If there was one thing he had learnt about her, it was that she was usually right. Her comment in the potions room about a seer predicting a Demon revolution of sorts not only reminded him of his own prophecy, but everything to do with it. It was midway through the school year now, and coming to terms with Sirius' death had not been easy. The pain had not completely diminished, but it had lessened somewhat, and he tried to keep his mind on his studies.

This, however, was not easy. It was not only he who was becoming increasingly concerned about the impending and inevitable encounter with Voldermort, all the teachers seemed to feel it too. They had become increasingly uptight, fastidious and perhaps a little paranoid. Perhaps this was why Snape had decided to change his potions topic. Harry had to agree that if there was a threat of a Demon invasion, however small, it would be infinitely better to know about this potion than the Doxicide.

All thoughts of any invasion, however, were left on the ground as he soared high into the air on his broom…

…as two beady eyes watched from the ground below.

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