Breakfast that morning was a quiet affair for the Gryffindors. They all noticed the very large lack of Neville at the breakfast table. He must still be with Madame Pomfrey.

"Come back here you little twit," Malfoy shouted at Pansy Parkinson. "When I get my hands on you, you are so dead."

Everyone turned to stare at the pair. Pansy was running from an obviously deranged Draco Malfoy. In a panic, she ran alongside the Gryffindor table with Malfoy hot on her heels.

Suddenly, Malfoy tripped, he was falling and time slowed down just so that everyone could catch his horrified expression as he landed atop Harry Potter's back, nearly slamming him head first into his food. Harry spun around to face him.

Malfoy smirked at him them. "Sorry Potter," he snarled in a tone that was clearly not apologetic. "I must have tripped on a stick or something."

He made a big exaggerated show of standing and no one even noticed when his hand slipped over Harry's cup, pouring a chalky white liquid into his pumpkin juice. He proceeded to dust off his clothes as if he feared he had been contaminated.

Then, because he couldn't resist it, he leaned down and purred in Harry's ear, "Have a nice day, Potter"

He smirked once more and charged after Pansy in the direction of the Slytherin clearing.

Harry sipped his pumpkin juice as he wondered what Malfroy had planned for him that day.

"He's up to something," he grumbled to Ron and Hermione. They were also staring at Malfroy's retreating form.

"What did he say to you?" Hermione asked.

"He told me to 'Have a nice day,'" Harry grumbled.

"Yeah, definitely up to something," Hermione agreed. "You should keep an eye out."

Harry nodded, idly sipping his pumpkin juice. He began picking at his food, lost in thought. After a while his stomach began to painfully cramp up and Harry waited for the feeling to pass, thinking that it was brought on by nervousness, but the feeling didn't pass. Instead, his stomach twisted up tighter and a hot chill passed through his body, making him shaky and sweaty. His face paled and he went running for the nearest toilet, which just happened to be all the way back at their clearing.

He struggled with his pants, hands shaking, and plopped himself down on the toilet just as he was about to explode.

He let out a sigh of relief, "I almost didn't make it."

Once he was sure that he was done, he wiped himself, and pulled up his pants. Snape's class was about to start and he did not want to be late.

Hermione gave him a concerned look as he approached. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"Yeah," he smiled shakily at her. "I think the food that we ate during Hagrid's class didn't agree with my stomach all that much."

"Maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey," Hermione suggested.

Harry shook his head at the thought; there was no one he could tell her that he was having diarrhea. Some things were best left unmentioned. Besides, he didn't believe that diarrhea was life-threatening.

"No Hermione," he replied. "I think I'm fine now."

Slowly, they followed the rest of the Gryffindors towards the clearing where they were supposed to have their first outdoor potions lesson. Hermione was still glancing at Harry with a look of concern and skepticism.

"Ah," Professor Snape remarked. "I see that you are all on time. What a rare occurrence?"

They glared at him; he was so not a favorite on any of their lists.

"Today we will be learning how to gather ingredients for various potions from the wilds. We will also learn how to make simple potions outdoors. Most of you as usual will find this to be a very difficult...Yes, Potter," Snape snarled finally acknowledging Harry's frantically flailing arm.

"May I go to the restroom?" he begged, feeling his stomach cramping up once more.

"No Mr. Potter, you may not go to the restroom. You should have taken care of your business before class started."

"But I really need to go," Harry whined, his face sweating.

"I guess you'll just have to piss on yourself, won't you, Mr. Potter?" Snape smirked.

"No," Harry declared in a panic. "You don't understand! I have diarrhea!"

Snape gave him a disgusted look, clearly taken aback, "Very well, Mr. Potter, you may go, if only to spare myself the wretched stink of it."

"Thank you," Harry cried and took off down the path towards the nearest bathroom.