Love Potions
Part 1: Snape's Project
By Firenzie
Summary: When Snape pairs Draco and Hermione together for the biggest project of the year, they know there's bound to be creative differences. But what happens when they see past it and start to develop feelings they'd never even dream about having for each other?
A/N: Despite the title (it's meant to mislead you), this fic isn't really about love potions. Love, yes. Potion, sure. But this is a fic about the mean ways of Professor Snape, and also a D/H romance, since it's suddenly my favorite now. I just lack the creative mind to think up a realistic way to get Draco and Hermione together, so forgive me if they seem out of character when they finally get together. Of course, that isn't until part 2. This part is just about their 'little' project.
Disclaimer: I. Hate. These. Annoying. Stupid. Things. (OMG, I'm talking like Stevie from 'Malcolm in the Middle!')
* * *
"Is anyone besides me horribly dreading this huge, mysterious Potions project that counts for sixty-percent of our grade that Snape keeps talking about?" Ron asked, furiously tearing through all his notes, trying to find the ingredients to make a Hair-Loss Potion.
Hermione sighed impatiently and rolled her eyes. "For the billionth time in five minutes, Ron, *yes.*"
"You're just peeved because you're upset that you don't know what this project is, so that you can study for it in advance," he retorted.
By the stressed expression on Hermione's face as she sifted through book after book, Ron was right. "Well, honestly!" she burst out. "If he's going to talk about it so much and how bloody important it is, don't you think it's only logical to tell us what it's about?"
"You know Snape," Harry said, scribbling down the answer to the last question for his homework, and then tossing his quill across the table and slumping back in his chair, exhausted. "He can't be logical. He can't be fair. He can't be nice. Unless, of course, it's to those slimy Slytherins--"
"Oh, having a chat about us, are you?"
The three friends groaned. Malfoy.
"What do you want?" Harry spat out.
He had a look of superiority and contempt, and Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles behind him. "You're sitting at our table," he informed them.
"This is a library," Hermione said exasperatedly, "you can't own a table."
"And if anyone can, it would be Hermione," Ron added, since Hermione had practically lived in the library since they first came to Hogwarts. "Anyway, I don't see your stupid name written on here anywhere."
"Well, my 'stupid name' has more money and things left for me to inherit than you'll ever have. Even if your family did have any money -- which you obviously don't -- you have too many other brothers for things to be passed down to. Little Ron would just be forgotten."
Malfoy struck a nerve. Ron *hated* being overshadowed by five older brothers. He hated not even being anything special, like Head Boy, or Quidditch Champion, or prefect, or prankster, or even simply the only girl in the family, like Ginny. And he absolutely hated being poor. So he couldn't restrain himself. He leaped from his chair, over the table, and then landed by Malfoy. He was just about to give him a well-deserved punch in the nose, when Madam Pince came hurrying over, looking furious.
"And what, may I ask, are you doing?" she asked stiffly. "Loud noises and commotion are certainly not allowed in this place of studying! Especially not physical fights!" She looked around at them, and her eyes landed on Hermione. "And you, Miss Granger! A prefect! I expected far more from you, yet you sit back and allow this to happen! Five points from Gryffindor and Slytherin! And if this continues, I will ask you all to leave the library with detentions!" Fuming, she walked away, muttering things to herself, like, "Really, now, fighting in a library... I should have just given them those detentions straight off..."
Hermione did not look ashamed from what Madam Pince said. She thought it was awfully unfair. How was she supposed to be responsible for preventing a fight between them and Malfoy? That was an impossible task! "Let's go," she said finally to Ron and Harry. "Let these immature idiots have their special table."
They hastily gathered on their things, and as they were on their way out, Harry called back over his shoulder, "And it's not much to brag about if the only things you'll be inheriting are Dark Arts items and old possessions of Voldemort!"
Many people quietly studying cringed at the name, and Malfoy's pale face went a shade of crimson. He muttered some swear words underneath his breath, and then he, Crabbe, and Goyle sat down at the table Harry, Ron, and Hermione had just been occupying a minute ago.
"If only Malfoy knew that we knew about his father's secret storage underneath their drawing room," Ron said, his face still flushed with anger from Malfoy's remarks. He clenched his fists.
"Well, he can't," Hermione said firmly, "otherwise he'd know that we--" But she let the sentence trail off, not wanting to mention it in case anyone was around to hear.
Unluckily, there was someone. "And what did you do, Miss Granger?" a voice asked greasily. "Something that broke dozens of school rules, as usual?"
The three of them looked up. As they had suspected by the bitterness in his voice, it was Professor Snape. But they didn't say anything.
"You better watch what you do, Potter. I've been onto you since Day 1." He spotted the Potions books piled in their arms. "Ah, studying for Thursday, are you? You'll need it. I'm already ready to give you all failing marks..." His eyes glittered maliciously, and then he turned on his heel and walked away, his long, black robes swishing behind him.
Ron called Snape a very bad name underneath his breath. "I've been onto you since day 1," he said in a mocking voice, as soon as Snape was out of earshot, and they resumed their walking to the Gryffindor common room. "What I wouldn't give to show that Snape and Malfoy..."
"We know, Ron," Hermione said. "We're dying to do something about it also. But what can we do without getting in trouble? And you saw Madam Pince. I'm a prefect, they expect more of me..." She crossed her arms. "We'll just have to be satisfied with the memory of knocking Snape out in the Shrieking Shack in our third year, and in our fourth, watching as Moody bounced Malfoy the ferret up and down."
Those thoughts made Harry and Ron grin, and instantly start talking about those incidents. "Five feet in the air," Ron said, laughing. "Priceless..."
They reached the portrait hole, where the Fat Lady was wearing a frilly violet dress, different than her usual pink. "Nice dress," Hermione commented, and to their surprise, the portrait swung forward. She looked at the Fat Lady. "That's the new password?"
She nodded, unable to keep a large smile off her face.
"What's the occasion?" Harry asked, but a bunch of first years were crowded behind them, waiting to get into the common room, so they had to go inside.
"Interesting day we're having, isn't it?" Ron commented. "Oh, I can't wait until Thursday..." he said sarcastically, and then they dragged themselves up to their dormitories.
* * *
As the Gryffindors and Slytherins waited outside Snape's dungeon on Thursday, their hearts full of dread, no one could stop talking about the unknown project. It had seemed that Snape hadn't even told his own House -- his obvious favorites.
The door suddenly burst open, thick, pale greenish smoke issuing heavily from the room.
"Please tell me there's been a fire," Neville begged, "and we can't have Potions today."
But they weren't that lucky. The smoke was most likely all a part of Snape's plan to try and leave them more confused and terrified of the day's class. A few of the Slytherins cautiously entered the classroom, coughing and their eyes stinging from the smoke.
"I can't see a foot in front of me!" Malfoy announced to the Slytherin girls still standing outside the doorway apprehensively.
"I'll show you a foot in front of you," Ron grumbled, as they held their arms out to try and see if they could feel any desks or anything.
"Ouch, Ron, that's my eye!" Hermione's voice shrieked.
"That wasn't me," Ron called from another direction.
"Oops, sorry," came Neville's apologetic voice, and then there was a loud racket as he lost his footing and crashed headlong into a table, knocked three chairs over, and bottles of ink inside his bag smashed.
"This is ridiculous!" Hermione said, racking her brain for a spell that would clear all the smoke away. She pulled her wand out of her pocket and cried out, "Smoke desvanecerse!"
(A/N: 'Desvanecerse' is Spanish for 'vanish' [oooh dang, that rhymed]. I've been using Spanish a lot lately because I'm learning to speak it, and I've got a dictionary lying around that would otherwise be collecting dust, so why not?)
Instantly, the green smoke faded away, at the same time someone yelled, "Ow!" Hermione's wand had whacked Seamus in the head as she vigorously waved it. She said sorry, and then suddenly, everyone hushed.
Snape was standing at the front of the classroom, looking more vindictive than ever. "I'm glad you all made it in," he said and then changed his mind. "Okay, I won't go that far." His eyes flickered to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, then to Neville, who was bent down on the ground, stuffing textbooks and sheets of parchment into his bag. "Today, you will hear all about this project you have been dying to learn about."
Everyone stared at his anxiously, but Snape was obviously enjoying keeping them all in suspense.
"First, we will divide into pairs." There was talk of, 'I'll be your partner,' from many of them, but Snape went on talking and they were silenced. "I have already taken the liberty of choosing those pairs." Everyone wanted badly to groan, but he was giving them a venomous look. He picked up a sheet of parchment off his desk and read off it.
"Longbottom, Bulstrode." Neville looked frightened as he cast a look at Millicent, whose looks that rivaled the ugliness of a hag.
"McDougal, Thomas. Brown, Nott. Zabini, Finnigan. Avery, Patil. Weasley, Goyle." Ron scowled at these words, cursing having to be placed with undoubtedly the dumbest student in the year.
"Granger, Malfoy. And finally, Potter, Parkinson, and Crabbe will be working together," Snape finished off, letting the parchment spring into a roll and fall back onto his desk. "Now I want you to sit at a table with your partner or partners," he said, giving Harry a look that showed he was clearly enjoying having him the only person with two Slytherin partners.
Hermione scooted her chair the farthest away from Malfoy as she could. She knew that Snape was practically begging for conflict by pairing them up Gryffindor-Slytherin. Almost everyone was too angry to even want to listen to Snape -- but that happened every Potions class, so it was nothing new.
Snape began to explain their assignment. "In a few minutes, we will be going into the library to do some research. You will all check out an advanced potions book of your choice, and search for one of the most difficult potions you can find. Present this potion to me, and I will decide whether or not it is complex enough. And if it isn't, I'll be happy to choose one for you."
Just what the class needed. Being told to pick out the hardest potion they could find. But that didn't seem like too much of a big task. They knew there was a lot more to their project, and visions of what Snape might make them do made them shudder.
"Once you have your potion, we will go out and get the ingredients -- collecting them by hand, if possible. I find that to be the best way." Their eyes widened. Would Snape really make them slaughter a boomslang to get its skin? How on earth were they going to get a bicorn horn from the wild?
"You will brew this potion, and I expect it to take months if you have really gotten a potion of the level I expect. While you wait for the potion to be ready, I've made sure that you're kept busy with a 4-roll-parchment essay about the history of your potion, how it works, side effects, possible deaths that have occurred from it... And then as the final feat, you will take your completed potion and have your partner drink it. And whatever happens, happens. If you made your potion correctly, you will get a passing grade. And if you haven't..." He looked directly at Neville, "you will fail, and your partner may face mortal peril. Any questions?"
Everyone was too scared to even raise his or her hand. It sounded like the most complicated thing they had ever heard, and the consequences were great. No one wanted to fail. To be honest, no one wanted to even attempt it.
"Well then," Snape said airily, in a voice that sounded too sinisterly cheerful, "let's go off to the library, shall we?"
The class slung their bags over their shoulders and walked out the door, glad to escape the daunting atmosphere of the dungeon. They were silent all the way to the library.
"Go ahead, sit at your special table," Harry whispered to Malfoy in an antagonistic tone, as they entered the library, to which Madam Pince shot them a warning glare, but then she went to talk to Snape.
"I take it, Severus, that you intend to allow all of these students..." He stared at her, and her voice faltered. "All right then."
A few students were already picking out potions books from the shelves. Snape noticed this, cleared his voice, and announced, "Did I forget to mention? We will be picking our books out of the Restricted Section."
That left a dead silence in the air. All of the students had never been allowed into the Restricted Section. But that didn't mean that one hadn't gone anyway... Harry remembered in his first year, after he received his Invisibility Cloak for Christmas, when he had snuck down to the library. He had pulled a thick, black volume out and opened it, only for the book to start screaming. Even when he closed it, the bloodcurdling shrieks didn't cease. Since then, Harry had had no intention of going back into the Restricted Section.
"Y -- you can't be serious!" Seamus said, staring at Snape in disbelief. But the twisted smile on Snape's face showed that he was. He beckoned to all the students to follow him past the red velvet rope and into the area no one had ever really wanted to see, even if they had been curious.
They were silent as they pulled out random books, holding it like it would put a curse on them, and then stared mortified at some of the grotesque illustrations they contained.
Madam Pince caught Hermione leafing through 'Moste Potente Potions,' and said loftily, "I see you've reunited with that book once again, Miss Granger."
Hermione froze, knowing that Snape was eyeing her suspiciously. Ron just told her, "Ignore Madam Pince. She's still mad about that fight three days ago." Hermione nodded and tucked the large book beneath her arm, walking over to Harry just to get out of Snape's vision.
An hour later, everyone had picked out their potion (or, to their dismay, had been assigned one by Snape), had it approved by him, then they checked out their books, and left the library. He dismissed them all, and everyone ran away from him as quickly as possible, wanting to think of anything in the world rather than their impossible project.
Part 1: Snape's Project
By Firenzie
Summary: When Snape pairs Draco and Hermione together for the biggest project of the year, they know there's bound to be creative differences. But what happens when they see past it and start to develop feelings they'd never even dream about having for each other?
A/N: Despite the title (it's meant to mislead you), this fic isn't really about love potions. Love, yes. Potion, sure. But this is a fic about the mean ways of Professor Snape, and also a D/H romance, since it's suddenly my favorite now. I just lack the creative mind to think up a realistic way to get Draco and Hermione together, so forgive me if they seem out of character when they finally get together. Of course, that isn't until part 2. This part is just about their 'little' project.
Disclaimer: I. Hate. These. Annoying. Stupid. Things. (OMG, I'm talking like Stevie from 'Malcolm in the Middle!')
* * *
"Is anyone besides me horribly dreading this huge, mysterious Potions project that counts for sixty-percent of our grade that Snape keeps talking about?" Ron asked, furiously tearing through all his notes, trying to find the ingredients to make a Hair-Loss Potion.
Hermione sighed impatiently and rolled her eyes. "For the billionth time in five minutes, Ron, *yes.*"
"You're just peeved because you're upset that you don't know what this project is, so that you can study for it in advance," he retorted.
By the stressed expression on Hermione's face as she sifted through book after book, Ron was right. "Well, honestly!" she burst out. "If he's going to talk about it so much and how bloody important it is, don't you think it's only logical to tell us what it's about?"
"You know Snape," Harry said, scribbling down the answer to the last question for his homework, and then tossing his quill across the table and slumping back in his chair, exhausted. "He can't be logical. He can't be fair. He can't be nice. Unless, of course, it's to those slimy Slytherins--"
"Oh, having a chat about us, are you?"
The three friends groaned. Malfoy.
"What do you want?" Harry spat out.
He had a look of superiority and contempt, and Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles behind him. "You're sitting at our table," he informed them.
"This is a library," Hermione said exasperatedly, "you can't own a table."
"And if anyone can, it would be Hermione," Ron added, since Hermione had practically lived in the library since they first came to Hogwarts. "Anyway, I don't see your stupid name written on here anywhere."
"Well, my 'stupid name' has more money and things left for me to inherit than you'll ever have. Even if your family did have any money -- which you obviously don't -- you have too many other brothers for things to be passed down to. Little Ron would just be forgotten."
Malfoy struck a nerve. Ron *hated* being overshadowed by five older brothers. He hated not even being anything special, like Head Boy, or Quidditch Champion, or prefect, or prankster, or even simply the only girl in the family, like Ginny. And he absolutely hated being poor. So he couldn't restrain himself. He leaped from his chair, over the table, and then landed by Malfoy. He was just about to give him a well-deserved punch in the nose, when Madam Pince came hurrying over, looking furious.
"And what, may I ask, are you doing?" she asked stiffly. "Loud noises and commotion are certainly not allowed in this place of studying! Especially not physical fights!" She looked around at them, and her eyes landed on Hermione. "And you, Miss Granger! A prefect! I expected far more from you, yet you sit back and allow this to happen! Five points from Gryffindor and Slytherin! And if this continues, I will ask you all to leave the library with detentions!" Fuming, she walked away, muttering things to herself, like, "Really, now, fighting in a library... I should have just given them those detentions straight off..."
Hermione did not look ashamed from what Madam Pince said. She thought it was awfully unfair. How was she supposed to be responsible for preventing a fight between them and Malfoy? That was an impossible task! "Let's go," she said finally to Ron and Harry. "Let these immature idiots have their special table."
They hastily gathered on their things, and as they were on their way out, Harry called back over his shoulder, "And it's not much to brag about if the only things you'll be inheriting are Dark Arts items and old possessions of Voldemort!"
Many people quietly studying cringed at the name, and Malfoy's pale face went a shade of crimson. He muttered some swear words underneath his breath, and then he, Crabbe, and Goyle sat down at the table Harry, Ron, and Hermione had just been occupying a minute ago.
"If only Malfoy knew that we knew about his father's secret storage underneath their drawing room," Ron said, his face still flushed with anger from Malfoy's remarks. He clenched his fists.
"Well, he can't," Hermione said firmly, "otherwise he'd know that we--" But she let the sentence trail off, not wanting to mention it in case anyone was around to hear.
Unluckily, there was someone. "And what did you do, Miss Granger?" a voice asked greasily. "Something that broke dozens of school rules, as usual?"
The three of them looked up. As they had suspected by the bitterness in his voice, it was Professor Snape. But they didn't say anything.
"You better watch what you do, Potter. I've been onto you since Day 1." He spotted the Potions books piled in their arms. "Ah, studying for Thursday, are you? You'll need it. I'm already ready to give you all failing marks..." His eyes glittered maliciously, and then he turned on his heel and walked away, his long, black robes swishing behind him.
Ron called Snape a very bad name underneath his breath. "I've been onto you since day 1," he said in a mocking voice, as soon as Snape was out of earshot, and they resumed their walking to the Gryffindor common room. "What I wouldn't give to show that Snape and Malfoy..."
"We know, Ron," Hermione said. "We're dying to do something about it also. But what can we do without getting in trouble? And you saw Madam Pince. I'm a prefect, they expect more of me..." She crossed her arms. "We'll just have to be satisfied with the memory of knocking Snape out in the Shrieking Shack in our third year, and in our fourth, watching as Moody bounced Malfoy the ferret up and down."
Those thoughts made Harry and Ron grin, and instantly start talking about those incidents. "Five feet in the air," Ron said, laughing. "Priceless..."
They reached the portrait hole, where the Fat Lady was wearing a frilly violet dress, different than her usual pink. "Nice dress," Hermione commented, and to their surprise, the portrait swung forward. She looked at the Fat Lady. "That's the new password?"
She nodded, unable to keep a large smile off her face.
"What's the occasion?" Harry asked, but a bunch of first years were crowded behind them, waiting to get into the common room, so they had to go inside.
"Interesting day we're having, isn't it?" Ron commented. "Oh, I can't wait until Thursday..." he said sarcastically, and then they dragged themselves up to their dormitories.
* * *
As the Gryffindors and Slytherins waited outside Snape's dungeon on Thursday, their hearts full of dread, no one could stop talking about the unknown project. It had seemed that Snape hadn't even told his own House -- his obvious favorites.
The door suddenly burst open, thick, pale greenish smoke issuing heavily from the room.
"Please tell me there's been a fire," Neville begged, "and we can't have Potions today."
But they weren't that lucky. The smoke was most likely all a part of Snape's plan to try and leave them more confused and terrified of the day's class. A few of the Slytherins cautiously entered the classroom, coughing and their eyes stinging from the smoke.
"I can't see a foot in front of me!" Malfoy announced to the Slytherin girls still standing outside the doorway apprehensively.
"I'll show you a foot in front of you," Ron grumbled, as they held their arms out to try and see if they could feel any desks or anything.
"Ouch, Ron, that's my eye!" Hermione's voice shrieked.
"That wasn't me," Ron called from another direction.
"Oops, sorry," came Neville's apologetic voice, and then there was a loud racket as he lost his footing and crashed headlong into a table, knocked three chairs over, and bottles of ink inside his bag smashed.
"This is ridiculous!" Hermione said, racking her brain for a spell that would clear all the smoke away. She pulled her wand out of her pocket and cried out, "Smoke desvanecerse!"
(A/N: 'Desvanecerse' is Spanish for 'vanish' [oooh dang, that rhymed]. I've been using Spanish a lot lately because I'm learning to speak it, and I've got a dictionary lying around that would otherwise be collecting dust, so why not?)
Instantly, the green smoke faded away, at the same time someone yelled, "Ow!" Hermione's wand had whacked Seamus in the head as she vigorously waved it. She said sorry, and then suddenly, everyone hushed.
Snape was standing at the front of the classroom, looking more vindictive than ever. "I'm glad you all made it in," he said and then changed his mind. "Okay, I won't go that far." His eyes flickered to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, then to Neville, who was bent down on the ground, stuffing textbooks and sheets of parchment into his bag. "Today, you will hear all about this project you have been dying to learn about."
Everyone stared at his anxiously, but Snape was obviously enjoying keeping them all in suspense.
"First, we will divide into pairs." There was talk of, 'I'll be your partner,' from many of them, but Snape went on talking and they were silenced. "I have already taken the liberty of choosing those pairs." Everyone wanted badly to groan, but he was giving them a venomous look. He picked up a sheet of parchment off his desk and read off it.
"Longbottom, Bulstrode." Neville looked frightened as he cast a look at Millicent, whose looks that rivaled the ugliness of a hag.
"McDougal, Thomas. Brown, Nott. Zabini, Finnigan. Avery, Patil. Weasley, Goyle." Ron scowled at these words, cursing having to be placed with undoubtedly the dumbest student in the year.
"Granger, Malfoy. And finally, Potter, Parkinson, and Crabbe will be working together," Snape finished off, letting the parchment spring into a roll and fall back onto his desk. "Now I want you to sit at a table with your partner or partners," he said, giving Harry a look that showed he was clearly enjoying having him the only person with two Slytherin partners.
Hermione scooted her chair the farthest away from Malfoy as she could. She knew that Snape was practically begging for conflict by pairing them up Gryffindor-Slytherin. Almost everyone was too angry to even want to listen to Snape -- but that happened every Potions class, so it was nothing new.
Snape began to explain their assignment. "In a few minutes, we will be going into the library to do some research. You will all check out an advanced potions book of your choice, and search for one of the most difficult potions you can find. Present this potion to me, and I will decide whether or not it is complex enough. And if it isn't, I'll be happy to choose one for you."
Just what the class needed. Being told to pick out the hardest potion they could find. But that didn't seem like too much of a big task. They knew there was a lot more to their project, and visions of what Snape might make them do made them shudder.
"Once you have your potion, we will go out and get the ingredients -- collecting them by hand, if possible. I find that to be the best way." Their eyes widened. Would Snape really make them slaughter a boomslang to get its skin? How on earth were they going to get a bicorn horn from the wild?
"You will brew this potion, and I expect it to take months if you have really gotten a potion of the level I expect. While you wait for the potion to be ready, I've made sure that you're kept busy with a 4-roll-parchment essay about the history of your potion, how it works, side effects, possible deaths that have occurred from it... And then as the final feat, you will take your completed potion and have your partner drink it. And whatever happens, happens. If you made your potion correctly, you will get a passing grade. And if you haven't..." He looked directly at Neville, "you will fail, and your partner may face mortal peril. Any questions?"
Everyone was too scared to even raise his or her hand. It sounded like the most complicated thing they had ever heard, and the consequences were great. No one wanted to fail. To be honest, no one wanted to even attempt it.
"Well then," Snape said airily, in a voice that sounded too sinisterly cheerful, "let's go off to the library, shall we?"
The class slung their bags over their shoulders and walked out the door, glad to escape the daunting atmosphere of the dungeon. They were silent all the way to the library.
"Go ahead, sit at your special table," Harry whispered to Malfoy in an antagonistic tone, as they entered the library, to which Madam Pince shot them a warning glare, but then she went to talk to Snape.
"I take it, Severus, that you intend to allow all of these students..." He stared at her, and her voice faltered. "All right then."
A few students were already picking out potions books from the shelves. Snape noticed this, cleared his voice, and announced, "Did I forget to mention? We will be picking our books out of the Restricted Section."
That left a dead silence in the air. All of the students had never been allowed into the Restricted Section. But that didn't mean that one hadn't gone anyway... Harry remembered in his first year, after he received his Invisibility Cloak for Christmas, when he had snuck down to the library. He had pulled a thick, black volume out and opened it, only for the book to start screaming. Even when he closed it, the bloodcurdling shrieks didn't cease. Since then, Harry had had no intention of going back into the Restricted Section.
"Y -- you can't be serious!" Seamus said, staring at Snape in disbelief. But the twisted smile on Snape's face showed that he was. He beckoned to all the students to follow him past the red velvet rope and into the area no one had ever really wanted to see, even if they had been curious.
They were silent as they pulled out random books, holding it like it would put a curse on them, and then stared mortified at some of the grotesque illustrations they contained.
Madam Pince caught Hermione leafing through 'Moste Potente Potions,' and said loftily, "I see you've reunited with that book once again, Miss Granger."
Hermione froze, knowing that Snape was eyeing her suspiciously. Ron just told her, "Ignore Madam Pince. She's still mad about that fight three days ago." Hermione nodded and tucked the large book beneath her arm, walking over to Harry just to get out of Snape's vision.
An hour later, everyone had picked out their potion (or, to their dismay, had been assigned one by Snape), had it approved by him, then they checked out their books, and left the library. He dismissed them all, and everyone ran away from him as quickly as possible, wanting to think of anything in the world rather than their impossible project.