Chapter Ten: Chameleon Powder

"So much for the plan." Ginny shook her head disapprovingly as Hermione slouched down into the loveseat in the Gryffindor common room. Ginny approached her friend and sat down opposite from her on the huge scarlet couch.

"I haven't even told you what happened yet!" Hermione said exasperated. "I haven't even said 'hello' to you yet and it's gotten around to you what happened."

"Nothing's going around, Hermione. You're just too tense for it to have gone well. Anyone could tell you that. Well, besides for Ron. A house-elf under the influence of Butterbear has more common sense than Ron."

"It was a nightmare, Ginny," Hermione told her friend, ignoring her humor. "I don't even know what happened in there. One minute, I was writing sentences. Then next minute, I was calling George obtuse for calling me a pain in the arse."

"You're not exaggerating, are you?"

"No," Hermione sighed regretfully. "Those are both exact quotes. Needless to say, I'm not on his good side yet. Nor will I ever be. You know, I have another detention on Friday night."

"What?" Ginny's eyes widened as she leaned in closer to Hermione. Ginny hadn't expected everything to be perfect between George and Hermione, but she didn't expect her to get in trouble again. "And was he being serious?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, was he doing it because you deserved it or was he doing it to annoy you? He would think this type of thing was actually funny…" Hermione glanced away from her comrade, into the fire to her left. It danced gaily, without worries or care, and Hermione envied an existence without anxiety.

"The sad thing is," Hermione began, "I think it was a bit of both."

Ginny sighed deeply. "This might be more confusing than I thought."

The sun peeked through the curtains navy curtains, gazing upon the restless body of George Weasley. He normally needed a boost to help get him up and out of bed, but this morning had been different. George tossed and turned the previous night, and it was unnerving.

The past few days, in general, had been unnerving. All of the fire from the Tuesday night detention had slowly faded away from George. George wanted to believe he had reasons why he acted the way he did, but he didn't have any logical ones. Fred, in a letter, told George that he thought the whole thing was hysterical, but Fred was the only one who thought so. One of the only other people who he had hoped would be on his side, Ginny, decided that Hermione's friends was more important than George's was and stuck by her in this little feud. George didn't deem the situation anything to even get worked up about, but suddenly, all the people he knew at Hogwarts did.

"In hindsight, that wasn't really a good thing to do after all," George muttered to himself as he threw the covers back onto his sloppy bed. It was just another joke gone too far for George, but this was a different case. Or was it even a joke at all? What was it that happened between George and Hermione that night? He had been thinking the same thoughts for days, confused about it all.

Now that it was the day of the next detention, George felt guilt creep upon him, and he knew he should do something. He didn't know why Hermione was so distressed by the detention, but he was going to put an end to said distress; George, as he left his room for breakfast in the Great Hall, decided that he was going to excuse the detention and apologize for all the things he said to Hermione a few nights before. Such plans calmed his guilt faintly.

After he got to the Great Hall, George ate his breakfast in peace. He rather enjoyed the "all you can eat" aspect of Hogwarts, and this morning, he decided to use that option to his advantage. With eyes bigger than his stomach, George pilled up a stack of waffles onto his single plate, anxiously eying the food. Rich syrup showered over the edges of the waffles, alleviating any remaining stress he felt about Hermione.

George didn't know why her grief hassled him; maybe he was already transforming into the professor that he was trying to desperately run away from. Maybe George was quickly starting to care for the well being of his students. Maybe his conscious that he had been missing all the years before had finally caught up to him.

George consumed his hearty breakfast quickly, and he proceeded to make his way back to his chambers. After careful organization of his supplies, he made his way down the corridors of Hogwarts and to his classroom. Arms full of papers, George pushed the door, which was slightly open, with his foot and stepped inside to his workspace.

"Hermione," said George, startled. There was Hermione, standing in the middle of George's classroom. Though she was faced the opposite direction, anyone who had ever met Hermione could distinguish her just from her hair. George walked fully into the room, closing the door slightly. The soft creak of the door seemed to trigger and cue Hermione when to precisely turn around. When she faced him, something looked a little off with her expression. George couldn't exactly sort out what look she conveyed, but it alarmed him slightly.

"What are you doing here?" George asked accusingly. Hermione raised her eyebrows in return.

"I'm in your next class. It starts in ten minutes."

"Any reason for being here early?" Unlike his first question, George asked this more casually as if to just carry on the conversation.

"Oh, no particular one," Hermione admitted. "I was at the library beforehand, and I finished my Ancient Runes essay earlier than I expected, so I decided to head here."

"Is that normal for you?" George asked. "Do you always do work before the school day even starts?"

"No, not normally. But I'm loosing time tonight that I need to be working, so I did it this morning instead."

"I see," George said, filling the brief silence. There was no need to ask why she wouldn't have time to work; George already knew she was referring to the detention tonight. He wondered if she would still spend the time studying tonight after he let her off of the detention or if she would give herself the night off.

George and Hermione crossed the room at the same time as they both headed to their respected desks. George shuffled awkwardly passed her, dropping his stack of work onto his desk. He rearranged his pile somewhat before he took a deep, readying breath in.

"Better now than later," George murmured so softly that it just sounded like he was breathing. He turned around to Hermione again and addressed her.

"Hermione, we need to talk." Hermione was in her seat already, book in front of her. She looked up from her interest and met George's gray eyes.

"About?"

"Well, I think we both know…" Hermione cocked her head curiously before George added to his previous sentence. "About detention."

"Well," Hermione said, returning to her book, "about the prior detention or the upcoming one? What actually could be said about either, really?"

"A lot could be said about both," admitted George, a sheepish blush creeping onto his face. "We should probably talk about what happened first, Hermione."

Before Hermione could react, the door to the classroom was pushed ajar. It opened slightly, but the door stopped before it was wide enough for anyone to actually walk in it. Hermione and George momentarily turned their attention to the entrance.

"You can come in," George said loudly to the direction of the door. The door swung back as Hannah Abbot and Megan Jones, two Hufflepuff students in the next class, walked into the classroom. Hermione's attention returned to George.

"We'll continue in private," George told her, voice lower. She nodded, returning to her book as more students slowly began filing in. George became aimlessly chatting with a few students in the class, not entirely paying attention to what he was saying until, finally, the bell rang for class to start.

"Welcome, everyone!" George greeted jollily. "By now, you've realized that you're not dreaming and that, yes, I am actually your professor! You did not have some taunting dream; this is your wonderful reality." George earned a few chuckles with his entrance before he grew slightly more serious.

"Now, as you should all remember, we learnt about the Fidelius Charm back on Monday. Now it's time for us to learn about the proper wand movements for the charm. It's rather complicated, but since I taught you all the theory of it last lesson, you should be able to pick it up."

"We're going to cast the Fidelius Charm?" asked a Ravenclaw boy incredulously.

"Are you sure that's safe?" another voice in the crowd said.

"We're only in our first week, and he's going to be sending us to the Hospital Wing!"

"Now hold on," George commanded his class. "I'm following the lesson plans that professor Flitwick left for me. He actually had you learning and casting on the same day, but I stretched in out a bit since I'm new at teaching. Nobody's going to be sent to the Hospital Wing while I'm around!"

"He's so noble," breathed Lavender Brown, swooning over her professor.

"More like bigheaded," Ginny joked.

"Now, ready to get started?" George asked the class. Terry Boot raised his a hand, but, like the last class, made a habit of not waiting to be called on.

"Sir, how do you propose we go about practicing the spell? We can go on hiding people in the class!"

"Of course not. You'll each be trying to hide a simple object: a feather. Then, at the end of the class, you'll each show me where the item is without telling me that it's hidden there. Then, after you've shown me the area, you'll tell me the secret and expose the object to me. We can't, for obvious reasons, hide actual people, but this lesson gets the technique and point across. Now, as soon as I give you the feathers, I'll show you the spell myself."

Distracted chatter erupted throughout the class, but everyone looked eager. George took this moment, while the class was distracted, to gather the supplies for the lesson. He went to bring out the feathers from the bottom drawer of his desk, but George quickly realized the challenge in doing so; the bottom drawer was notorious among the professors for having a fatal stick to it that would only give if you tugged on it with all your bodyweight. Some prankster, before Fred and George's days at school, had cast a spell on it to make it nearly impossible to open, and magic now had no effect on it. Flitwick and the other professors, after apparently finding no cure for years, gave up and accepted that the bottom drawer could not be used. Why they hadn't just bought a new desk was beyond George, especially since he momentarily forgot the drawer's legend and put the feathers in there.

George put his hand on the brass handle of the drawer and gave it a small tug before remembering that he put the feathers in the worst drawer. Awkwardly, George placed his foot on the desk, pushing off to aid in opening the drawer. He heaved with his entire body weight. It seemed like his body weight, after all, wasn't going to be enough, but sure enough, after a few uncomfortable seconds, George flew back as the drawer gave. The feathers soared out of the drawer and followed George to the floor before the drawer, hissing and growling, returned into its nook inside the desk.

The whole class stopped talking to stare at George, unsure whether to laugh or help. George quickly got to his feet, collecting the feathers within his arms.

"What beats me how I managed to get the drawer opened in the first place to put the feathers in," George said, lightening the mood. George listened to the talk, which picked right back up again, as he distributed the feathers with his wand. They glided out of his arms smoothly, landing in front of each student with a swift ease.

"Now, to begin the actual lesson," George began, voiced projecting throughout the room, "You'll all need your wand. Now, the trick to the Fidelius Charm is to make the incantation and movements very fluid, but they have to be exact. Here, let me-"

"Excuse me," Hermione interrupted, hand shooting up. "Professor, I don't have a feather." The class turned around to her, half wanting to prove her wrong and show her that it was right in front of her, but she, in fact, did not have a feather before her. Ron looked at her confused, muttering incoherent words to her, but Hermione ignored him.

"Okay then," George mumbled, looking around him. He knew he had the exact right amount of feathers pick out, but he didn't argue. "Maybe one was left in the drawer…"

George turned around, heading towards the desk. George could have sworn he heard the whoosh of Hermione's hand flying up into the air before she began to speak again.

"Sir, if you don't mind me saying so, you might not want to try to open that drawer again." The class unanimously agreed and made such opinions obvious with their loud protests. George, deciding they were right, began checking all the other drawers in the desk for another feather.

"Could have sworn I saw one that I used for my first years laying about…" George announced aloud to the class. George pulled open the long, elongated top drawer that stretched out across the top of the desk. Before he could even look inside, he was greeted with something he did not expect.

A large cloud of black smog leaked out of the top drawer in an explosion. George jumped back from the fog as an instinct, but he wasn't quick enough to escape. The dark substance filled the room instantly, masking the view of the room temporarily. It didn't however mask the screams of shock and surprise emitted by everyone in the room.

"Everyone, stay calm!" choked George as he felt around on the floor. Groping eagerly, he searched around on the floor around him, desperate to find his wand and clear the room of the unknown black smoke.

"Contego," shouted a voice across the room. A large gust of wind, blowing powerfully and forcefully, pushed throughout the classroom. Everyone automatically covered their heads. Before anyone knew what happened, the room was spotless. Immediately, George got up from the floor and addressed the savior.

"Great job-" he began cheerful. George stopped talking when he saw everyone in the classroom. Looking around, he noticed something rather odd: everyone's skin was stained in the most peculiar fashion. Lavender Brown's was covered in a disturbingly bright shade of yellow, and Dean Thomas was not only green, but he had purple Hippogriffs branded on him as well. Blaise Zabini was rainbow and, though she didn't seem to mind, Luna Lovegood turned an abnormal color bronze such as a statue. George looked down and saw the he too had been effected; his skin was etched with dancing Pygmy Puffs that were doing an actual, moving jig with a bright sky blue behind them.

George then noticed how painfully obvious who the liberator was who got rid of the dark haze. There she stood, wand protruded, with a focused look on her face. She and the few people around her stood out in this crowd of misfits, though, because they were the only ones not stained.

"Good job, Hermione," George continued with disdain in his voice.

"It was no trouble," Hermione began to explain. "I first cast a shielding charm, but it only protected those people sitting close to me... then I cast a repelling spell to get rid of the-"

"Chameleon Powder," George told the class. "It's an altercation of the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. It changes the color of your skin instead of just shielding your vision. It's used to create an even bigger laugh when pulling a prank. There is no cure for the color or the pictures, but it will fade within two days time."

The class exploded with talk. Some people were laughing at the situation, and some people were complaining loudly.

"How do you know all of this?" Michael Corner asked George noisily. He tried to remain serious when asking this, but the dancing Pygmy Puffs on George's skin was too much to handle, and he cracked up with laughter.

"I invented it over the summer with my brother," George admitted.

"And you decided that you shouldn't make an antidote?"

"Hey!" hollered George. "Look, this is just a minor setback. I know it's a little distracting, but that's it. There isn't a need for an antidote-"

"But what if my boyfriend sees me like this? He'll leave me for sure!" proclaimed Ophelia Blishwick from the far side of the classroom. She looked as if she was going to faint from the sight of her pure white skin.

"Then you should break up with him anyways for being shallow. Look, this isn't permanent or anything-" George was cut off yet again.

"How are we going to go on for the next few days looking like this?"

"How come you didn't notice your own invention in time to stop it?"

"What even happened? How did that get everywhere?"

"Enough!" George bellowed. "Class is dismissed, everyone." Everyone grew silent at last. Each of them looked back and forth, in between each other and their tainted shades of skin.

"What about the Fidelius Charm?" Ginny asked her brother on account of the whole class. George shook his head.

"Forget it. It's not happening today. We'll work on it next week instead." Awkwardly, each student sat in his or her seat, not wanting to be the first to get up. Slowly, Harry literally took a stand and left the classroom, Ginny in hand. It didn't take long for the rainbow assortment of students to follow behind them. Hermione was the only one who didn't leave.

"Sir," Hermione addressed George as she carried her personal belongings, "You wanted to speak to me after class?" She stepped towards him with a look of innocence on her face, most likely a side effect of holding in the laughter from George's appearance.

"Yeah, I did, didn't I?"

"About the detentions," she aided him.

"Right, well-" George began to speak, but he stopped mid-thought. It was well hidden, but what George could see changed everything he planned on saying. Right under the cover of the book Hermione had been so intrigued with earlier was one single feather, and not just any feather; it was the same feathers that George was using for the lesson earlier. The same feather that Hermione said she didn't have. It was well concealed, almost completely out of sight, but the tip of it stuck out of the book accidentally. It didn't take long for George to put two and two together.

"Professor?" Hermione tried to grab George's attention again. "You were saying?"

"Forget it," George replied calmly. "Detention is tonight, Ms. Granger. Don't be late."

Author's Notes: Guys, I'm so sorry for the delayed update! Since I've last posted, I've been somewhat constantly sick. It's proved to be a true pain, but I've finally mustered up enough energy to write this baby up! Just in time for the holidays. On regards to the next time I update, the time frame might be a bit iffy. Either I'll have it up in a few days or it will be up in 2010! I'm going on a vacation and I'm restraining from writing while I'm there, so it all depends on whether I have time to write it before or after I go.

Another special thanks to Binka, once again, for leaving me an incredibly in depth and helpful review! And, of course, thanks to my other reviewers: darkangel913, Molly Goode, SweetSweetRevenge, Nutters4Potter, and Deevee White! I couldn't do it without you guys!

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