DISCLAIMER: I~~~ wish I were an Oscar Meyer Weiner… that is what I'd truly love to be… and if I were an Oscar Meyer Weiner… everyone would-

**gunshots**

…and yet more carnage and copyright entreatments.

POTIONS AND TEENAGED MUGGLES

Chapter Nine: Dumb Muggles.

Julie Mead has a new makeup bag. It is leather and apparently expensive, something by the name of "Louis Votaan," or some such mess. She wisely keeps it well out of sight during class, and is sure to apply her necessary cosmetic touch-up before her 'attacker' shows to class each morning. It almost makes me laugh (at her, not with her) how obsessed she is about her eyeliner being perfect.

Friday. Tomorrow I leave for Hogwarts.

A mixture of delight and dismay overcomes me at this observation. The delight is derived from escaping this hell. The dismay comes from-

-the young woman walking through the door. I hear hisses and a distinctive yelp from Ms. Mead and her protégé as Ms. Evans walks confidently to her seat. She is dressed oddly- in place of her customary jeans, she wears an embroidered skirt and rather than a volleyball t-shirt she dons a v-neck cardigan. Her face is different- I assume she is wearing cosmetics- and she even wears one small diamond stud in each ear. She looks… pleasant.

What?!

I force any complimentary thoughts from my consciousness and focus in on my hatred of Julie Mead.

Ah, much better.

The end of a 6-week session is over, and two weeks of break begin tomorrow. Today, thus, is exam day.

"Our lab today will be a titration lab. You will be dealing with slightly diluted sulfuric acid, an acid-base indicator called phenolphthalein, and a weak base. Consequently, you must each wear full lab gear including gloves, goggles and aprons."

Julie and Jessica groaned. "Um, the aprons are dirty…I'm wearing, like, a really expensive Abercrombie outfit-" Jessica began.

Julie completed the protest, "Yeah, and my acrylics will so totally be ruined by those gloves."

I'm currently not sure if I can take anymore…

The two blondes are looking at me expectantly, or at least I think they are; it's difficult to decipher expressions on the easily dumbfounded. "If I gave the impression that this lab would be optional for those with meager protests, please, allow me to clear up the issue…NO ONE is exempt."

This earns me sighs and a few ostentatious eye-rolls. I feel like doing the same.

,','#,','#,','

The titration lab was going well. In fact, I was nearly finished. But, no. It would have made sense for things on my last day at this school to be pleasant- and the world just doesn't make sense. Julie Mead decided to remove her gloves at the exact moment Jessica Antwan knocked over the remaining sulfuric acid. In an attempt to save the falling beaker, Julie put her hands in the way of a minimally concentrated but nonetheless dangerous solution.

"AHHHHHHHHH!"

My eyes widen at the sound, and I move in to turn on the nearest sink faucet, never-minding the remaining acid dripping off of the table. Though her skin is not exactly melting away, Julie's acrylic nails are deteriorating rapidly. I calm down rapidly as I realize that she's panicked and yelping not because she's in pain, but because her thirty-five dollar set of nails is melting. I stifle a laugh and continue to help her scrub the solution off of her hands.

Snape swiftly sweeps over to our area and grabs Julie's hands to examine the damage. I step back and watch his expression turn from genuine concern, to shielded amusement to exasperation.

"Again, Ms. Mead, to the nurse's office with you. Your partner will finish the lab for you," he dead-pans, though I can tell he's fighting down a smirk. The blubbering blonde exits the room quickly, cradling her mildly discolored hands as though they were bloody and marred. I scoff.

His eyes glimmer with a certain mischief and I find myself, again, staring at him. He glances my way and holds my gaze for a moment.

I feel like a deer in headlights with his eyes on me, and I sense a flush creeping onto my face. The bell rings.

Whew.

Packing up my supplies quickly, I spare a glance at Snape and find him speaking to an overly-pierced boy cloaked in black about how 'those dreadful things will react with the chemicals…' The perplexed look on the boy's face is priceless.

`-)_+_(-'

I enter the teacher's lounge to gather the last of my things before leaving and pass a mirror on the way in. I stop abruptly and turn to my reflection. Red cheeks, red nose and red forehead. Oh no. I quickly undo my tie and top button, and it is as I'd feared- I have a distinct line separating my pale, unexposed skin from that above it. I have a sunburn.

In a notably worse mood, I exit the room after gathering my things. I'm greeted by the face of Ms. Evans, who promptly begins asking me questions.

"So be packed by seven?" She asks, staring at the floor.

"Yes, and at my door. If you're not there I depart without you," I state.

"OK. What should I wear?"

I react in a heated voice, naturally, "Miss Evans, your annoying badgering-"

"What's your problem?!" She walks in my path and stops me in my tracks, glaring at me in an empty corridor- or hall, or whatever. She is, quite obviously, angry.

"I was under the impression you understood it was you." She flinches as though slapped. Oh. That came out a bit harsh.

"It's not my fault I'm a muggle," she chokes out, "if you are adamant about constantly insulting me, demeaning me and condescending to me than I'll simply not go with you! I mean, honestly, if that's what you want, you should've just said it and saved me the trouble. Maybe next time I 'freak out', I'll kill someone, and be forced to withdraw not only from school, but from life altogether!"

I'm shocked. I can only stare at her. "Withdraw from school?" I entreat.

Her expression turns from fury to embarrassment. She barely mumbles her next words. "Ms. Lynch implored me rather forcefully to leave the school on threat of a lawsuit from Julie's mother… on me and on the school."

There is a long silence. She continues to find something immensely interesting about her sandals and refuses to look up. I sigh loudly.

"Be there at seven. Wear something discreet, like a big sweater or whatnot. Nothing to muggle-ish, like what you have on now," I comment, referring to her feminine outfit all abound with color and whatnot.

"You don't like it?" She looks up, scowling.

"It's not that I don't- in fact I like- it's only that….just- just," I realize I'm stuttering like a schoolboy, and rush out a quick, "wear something black. Good evening."

+==+==+

As I stand in the hall, watching his retreating form and inhaling his scent, I playback the odd scene that just took place in my head. I'm shocked. Yes, he had a sunburn, and yes, it would be hard to tell, but I could just SWEAR that…

…he was blushing.

Author's Notes: Told you, I'm on a creative run. Let's hope it turns into a creative marathon!! A few more nights of insomnia and I may be back in your favor, huh? Let me know if you enjoy the direction- I have a few story arcs I could take and I want to know what you like.

-Tam