I got four reviews! ::does the four review dance:: Alright, alright. So it's not that many... but it's four more than I had before, and that is something to be proud of. So... on that note, I suppose I'll respond to the reviews I found interesting or answer some questions (if a question is ever .. posed.)
Mookins - 'normalcy' is infact a word. It's in Websters. Just because Harding coined it doesn't lessen the fact that it is, indeed, a word.
Chapter One: Leave Me Alone
Leave me alone- I'm a freak
leave me alone- make it easy for yourself
everywhere I go they all stare
I don't understand why they care
"This is madness." Ron stated gruffly, stretching in his chair and fighting courageously to keep his eyes open. "Potions on a Monday? That's cruel and unusual punishment, that is." Folding his arms on top of his stack of books, he buried his head into his arms and tried to catch a few more winks before the Bat came to grace them all with his presence. Hermione gave Ron a disapproving look, flipping through her Potions book to the specified page on the board.
"Really Ron, it's not that bad. If you'd go to bed at a decent hour instead of staying up all night chatting away-"
"Who says I'm up all night 'chatting away'?" Ron mumbled indignantly, raising his head a bit to give Hermione 'the Look'. Hermione rolled her eyes, continuing to flip through her book. Upon finding the correct page, she sighed and looked up. Still no sign of the Potions Master. Looking to her left, she found Harry staring into nothingness, chin on hand and glasses askew.
"Don't tell me you're up all night as well? Are you both really that tired?!" she said with an exasperated sigh. Muttering something akin to 'Men', she picked up another book out of her bag and began to read, paying no mind to the dreadful "men folk" around her. Ron, his semi-sleep interrupted by Hermione's mother hen nit-picking, raised his head and saw that Harry hadn't seemed to have moved since the three arrived in class that morning. Looking around, 'Where is the old coot anyway?' he sighed and poked Harry in the ribs.
"Hey mate, what's on your mind? I know you couldn't possibly be tired. You slept like a log last night ... unless..." Ron got uncomfortable, thinking perhaps Harry had yet another nightmare that he was keeping from the other two. Harry looked over his right shoulder to find Hermione reading, and Ron looking at him intently. He blinked, as if only seeing them for the first time. "I'm sorry ... what did--?" he was cut off by loud slamming of a door and a flurry of black stalking across the room. Ahh, now there was the Potions Master the children of Hogwarts loved so dearly.
"Turn your books to page five hundred and twenty nine." he muttered, his voice low enough to chill even the most rambunctious students. "Today, you will be making the 'Imago Iucundus'. Roughly translated into 'pleasant image', when combined with the proper sleeping potion, it causes the drinker to experience pleasant dreams." Severus continued his explination as he began writing different ingredients and instructions on the board. "It is usually only taken with that particular sleeping potion, which we will be making soon enough. When taken alone, it produces an elated feeling in the drinker and can become habit forming." Placing down the chalk, he turned to look at his class, hoping that atleast someone other than Granger took the time to read their books since the last class, and that his words were merely a refresher. Noting the dull and blank looks on their faces, he surmised that no one had
infact read and that this was all new news to them. He sighed. "Do try your hardest at not turning this into a poisonous substance, as a
few vials will be sent up the Hospital Ward. Now begin." With a quick look at Longbottom, Severus prayed to every god he didn't believe in that he would still have a classroom by the end of the period.
Ron, raising an eyebrow to the nealry unreadable scrawl on the board, turned to his two friends in a way that said "And yet, another day begins. G.R.E.A.T.' Hermione, picking up on Ron's frustration, huffed. "Ron, if you had read the book like you were supposed to, this wouldn't be all new to you!" And with that, she began pulling out the ingredients necessasary. Ron looked at her as if
she had sprouted horns, and then turned to look up at Harry. Harry was, once again, not paying any attention to the bickering taking
place at his side.
"Harry." Ron said quietly, trying to get his best friends attention without alerting the attention of Snape. No answer. "Harry?" he said again, a little louder. Still, no answer. "Harry!" Ron had to keep himself from yelling, nearly causing the entire class plus the Potions Master to look up to their ledge in the room. Harry jumped at the loud sound of his name, and looked about himself. It seemed as though everyone's eyes were on him. Including the professors. He swallowed.
"What Ron? What do you want?" he asked, a little more harsh than he intended. Ron looked at him for a second or two, and then shaking his head, muttered "Nevermind." Then he to bent his head and began to measure out his ingredients. Harry watched the two for such a time that he heard "Potter" from the front of the room. He turned his head to find two dark eyes piercing into his green ones.
"Why are you not working?" Snape asked. 'Think quick, Harry. Why aren't you working? Why?!' he thought to himself, running down a list of possible answers. Finally, he found one that seemed to work. "Because I'm stupid." What?! "I mean.. uhm.." he fought to cover his own slip-up, but it seemed to be a losing battle. Closing his eyes, he heard tidbits of laughter fluttering around the room.
"Not that I'm disagreeing with you, Mr. Potter, but get to work." Snape interjected smoothly. Harry made some kind of weird noise in his throat, and nodded. 'What's wrong with you, Potter? he thought to himself. And then another thought, 'Why does my inner
voice sound like Malfoy?' Shaking his head, he pulled out the ingredients listed on the board and began his work. 'A sprig of Marjoram, a
few grams each of Stonecrop and Angelica, a few drops of the essence of Lilly of the Valley...' his mind prattled on, trying to keep him
on task and not on the topic of a certain Potions Master.
---
After two hours of sweating, cursing and lost points, Potions was over with barely a confrontation. Of course, Neville nearly
caused a nuclear meltdown when his bright orange and bubbling potion (it was supposed to be a light, periwinkle colour) started
smelling of something foully akin to roadkill. And of course, Hermione lost the Gryffindor's 10 points for trying to assist Neville. While
Snape did sport an insultingly well-thought rhetoric for the fiasco, he delivered not nearly as scathing as one would have assumed. In
fact, he seemed to be on verge of just letting it slide and falling asleep on his desk top. But of course, our dear Potions Master wouldn't
dare put a tarnish on his outstanding reputation, and took points all the same.
When class was nearing a close, Severs announced that the vials selected for the Hospital Ward shall receive extra points. Any potions that were so terribly constructed that they could be used as rat poison ... well, let's just hope they don't make it into your
evening pumpkin juice. And with that, class was dismissed. Severus watched the students place their concoctions on their usual shelf, and scramble out of his room. He doubted that they were eager to get to their next class so much as they were egear to get out of his class. For millionth time it seemed, he sighed deeply. Rubbing his temples, he sat down and was surprised to find Potter still at his working station. He watched with slight amusement as Potter looked around, seeming to search for something.
"Lose something, Mr. Potter?" he asked, his voice thick with sarcasm, clearly letting Harry know that he was really saying "Why in the Hell are you still here?" Potter, noting the edge in the Potions Master's voice, exhaled sharply and looked up.
"I seemed to have misplaced my quill. It doesn't seem to be anywhere around here so I guess I'm leaving..." with one more
quick look, he picked up his book bag and headed out of the room, dropping his potion off on the way out the door. With yet another
discontented look over the room, he raised his wand and pointed it towards the student potions. 'Accio potions' he muttered, and one
by one, the vials made their way to his desk. Glaring at the bottles hard enough to make them shatter, he brought his grading
parchment and began the grueling process of testing each and every one of his students "disasters".
---
"Damnit! I knew I forgot something!" Harry cursed, searching through his bag for his Transfigurations book. "Snapes already
thinks I'm an idiot for losing my quill, but now I've got to go back there and..." he trailed off, muttering darkly to himself. Ron looked over
Harry's shoulder, and sighed.
"Mate, I'm going to warrant a guess here and say that he probably thought you were an idiot before you lost your quill." Harry, rolled his eyes, and muttered "Yeah, you're probably right." Raising his hand, he hoped McGonagall wouldn't hurt him too bad for
his stupidity. 'What is it with you and being stupid today, Potter?' he thought to himself. 'Damn that Malfoy-ish inner voice of mine.'
"Yes, Mr. Potter?" the Transfigurations teacher asked, noting Harry's hand in the air.
"I'm sorry Professor, uhm... I think I left my Transfigurations book in the Potions classroom." McGonagall frowned at this. "Could I go and get it?" Harry could tell by the way Professor McGonagall was looking at him that she was not at all pleased.
"Yes Mr. Potter, you may go and retrieve your book. But I highly suggest you remember it from now on. Leaving things in
Professor Snape's classroom is hardly an intelligent decision, as I'm sure you well know." she stated bluntly. "Now go on." With that, Harry was nodding his thanks and heading out of the classroom, down once more into the cold dungeons.
Not looking forward to the look on Snape's face as he entered his classroom once more, Harry slowed his pace to a brisk walk as he made his way towards the classroom. Allowing his mind to wander, he reflected back on Potions class earlier that day. Not
only was he himself slightly spacey, but Snape didn't seem at all up to his usual sneering, greasy self. 'Maybe it's another one of those
Mondays' he thought, chewing on his lower lip and nearly running himself into a stone wall. But then he began to think back to that one
night ... it was only a few days ago, when he found the Potions Master seemingly deep in thought at the window. 'Maybe that had
something to do with it.' he reasoned with himself. 'I mean, he did seem quite ... lost? Out of it?' he struggled to find the right words, but put it quickly out of mind as he came upon the door into the Potions room. 'Here goes nothing...'
Knocking first, he quietly opened the door as to not surprise the old bat into a rage. "Uhm.. Professor, I seem to have left.. my... uhm... Professor?" Harry asked, coming upon quite a sight in the classroom. There was his dignified, sarcastic, lethal Potions Master ... asleep on his desk, like so many students. His desk was littered with potion vials, most of them a slight purplish colour. Harry approached the Potions Master as if he were coming upon a beast in the wild. As he came closer, he took note of the dark circles under his eyes, contrasting greatly to Snape's pale skin. He also noted that, when sleeping, Snape didn't seem nearly as agitated, or mean, or even remotely... Snape-ish. He just looked ... like a very pale, very sleepy, and very innocent man. Harry snorted at that. Snape? Innocent? Shaking his head, he thought of what to do in such a situation. Should he wake him up or let him sleep? After a fair amount of thought, he decided on the former but not until he got found his book.
Heading over to where he usually sat in class, he found his book sitting on the floor by his chair. Picking it up, he shifted it over to hir right arm and made his way back to Snape's desk.
"Professor ... Professor Snape?" Harry asked mildly, not wanting Snape to jump up and kill him. Not getting a response, he tried again. "Professor Snape...?" He tapped the man's shoulder, just enough to start some movement in the hunched over figure. Snape buried his face into his arms and attempted to go back to sleep, but his brain registered something quite out of the ordinary. He was not in his private rooms, but sitting as his desk in class. And Potter was standing next to him. 'What in the nine levels of Hell....?' he looked up, to see Potter standing over him, some form of mediocre concern etched in his features.
"Potter, what are you-" he tried to mask a yawn, and succeeded somewhat. "What are you doing here?"
"I forgot my Transfigurations book, and I came back to get it. I saw you sleeping and..." he trailed off, not wanting to state the blatantly obvious. Snape, still bleary eyed and half asleep, nodded, not remembering to put his 'I Hate Potter' facade in place.
"Well, if you've found your things then I suggest you get on to class. I don't want Minerva on my case about murdering you and what not." Harry stared. Did Snape just make a joke, albeit a dark one?
"All right, Professor. Uhm... good-bye." Turning around, he headed for the door.
"Thank you for waking me up." Barely reached his ears, but did such nonetheless. Harry stopped and looked over his shoulder. Did Snape just bloody -thank- him?
"You're welcome." Harry said, just as faint, not even entirely sure if he actually heard it. Snape looked up at Harry, nodded once, and then turned his attention back to his parchment. Harry continued walking, and anyone who saw his face would have thought him in a state of mild shock.
----
Ending Note: I hope you people enjoyed that. My processor is whacked out, so I had to go in and manually insert paragraphs TWICE. Once while writing, and once after spell check. It was like some sort of sick and twist Compaq computer game. ::le sigh:: Anywho, please review. Tell me what you liked, what you didn't like and what you'd like to see in the future. If it works with what I'm writing, I'll seriously consider it. Thanks so much for reading.
Cheers,
- sarah
Mookins - 'normalcy' is infact a word. It's in Websters. Just because Harding coined it doesn't lessen the fact that it is, indeed, a word.
Chapter One: Leave Me Alone
Leave me alone- I'm a freak
leave me alone- make it easy for yourself
everywhere I go they all stare
I don't understand why they care
"This is madness." Ron stated gruffly, stretching in his chair and fighting courageously to keep his eyes open. "Potions on a Monday? That's cruel and unusual punishment, that is." Folding his arms on top of his stack of books, he buried his head into his arms and tried to catch a few more winks before the Bat came to grace them all with his presence. Hermione gave Ron a disapproving look, flipping through her Potions book to the specified page on the board.
"Really Ron, it's not that bad. If you'd go to bed at a decent hour instead of staying up all night chatting away-"
"Who says I'm up all night 'chatting away'?" Ron mumbled indignantly, raising his head a bit to give Hermione 'the Look'. Hermione rolled her eyes, continuing to flip through her book. Upon finding the correct page, she sighed and looked up. Still no sign of the Potions Master. Looking to her left, she found Harry staring into nothingness, chin on hand and glasses askew.
"Don't tell me you're up all night as well? Are you both really that tired?!" she said with an exasperated sigh. Muttering something akin to 'Men', she picked up another book out of her bag and began to read, paying no mind to the dreadful "men folk" around her. Ron, his semi-sleep interrupted by Hermione's mother hen nit-picking, raised his head and saw that Harry hadn't seemed to have moved since the three arrived in class that morning. Looking around, 'Where is the old coot anyway?' he sighed and poked Harry in the ribs.
"Hey mate, what's on your mind? I know you couldn't possibly be tired. You slept like a log last night ... unless..." Ron got uncomfortable, thinking perhaps Harry had yet another nightmare that he was keeping from the other two. Harry looked over his right shoulder to find Hermione reading, and Ron looking at him intently. He blinked, as if only seeing them for the first time. "I'm sorry ... what did--?" he was cut off by loud slamming of a door and a flurry of black stalking across the room. Ahh, now there was the Potions Master the children of Hogwarts loved so dearly.
"Turn your books to page five hundred and twenty nine." he muttered, his voice low enough to chill even the most rambunctious students. "Today, you will be making the 'Imago Iucundus'. Roughly translated into 'pleasant image', when combined with the proper sleeping potion, it causes the drinker to experience pleasant dreams." Severus continued his explination as he began writing different ingredients and instructions on the board. "It is usually only taken with that particular sleeping potion, which we will be making soon enough. When taken alone, it produces an elated feeling in the drinker and can become habit forming." Placing down the chalk, he turned to look at his class, hoping that atleast someone other than Granger took the time to read their books since the last class, and that his words were merely a refresher. Noting the dull and blank looks on their faces, he surmised that no one had
infact read and that this was all new news to them. He sighed. "Do try your hardest at not turning this into a poisonous substance, as a
few vials will be sent up the Hospital Ward. Now begin." With a quick look at Longbottom, Severus prayed to every god he didn't believe in that he would still have a classroom by the end of the period.
Ron, raising an eyebrow to the nealry unreadable scrawl on the board, turned to his two friends in a way that said "And yet, another day begins. G.R.E.A.T.' Hermione, picking up on Ron's frustration, huffed. "Ron, if you had read the book like you were supposed to, this wouldn't be all new to you!" And with that, she began pulling out the ingredients necessasary. Ron looked at her as if
she had sprouted horns, and then turned to look up at Harry. Harry was, once again, not paying any attention to the bickering taking
place at his side.
"Harry." Ron said quietly, trying to get his best friends attention without alerting the attention of Snape. No answer. "Harry?" he said again, a little louder. Still, no answer. "Harry!" Ron had to keep himself from yelling, nearly causing the entire class plus the Potions Master to look up to their ledge in the room. Harry jumped at the loud sound of his name, and looked about himself. It seemed as though everyone's eyes were on him. Including the professors. He swallowed.
"What Ron? What do you want?" he asked, a little more harsh than he intended. Ron looked at him for a second or two, and then shaking his head, muttered "Nevermind." Then he to bent his head and began to measure out his ingredients. Harry watched the two for such a time that he heard "Potter" from the front of the room. He turned his head to find two dark eyes piercing into his green ones.
"Why are you not working?" Snape asked. 'Think quick, Harry. Why aren't you working? Why?!' he thought to himself, running down a list of possible answers. Finally, he found one that seemed to work. "Because I'm stupid." What?! "I mean.. uhm.." he fought to cover his own slip-up, but it seemed to be a losing battle. Closing his eyes, he heard tidbits of laughter fluttering around the room.
"Not that I'm disagreeing with you, Mr. Potter, but get to work." Snape interjected smoothly. Harry made some kind of weird noise in his throat, and nodded. 'What's wrong with you, Potter? he thought to himself. And then another thought, 'Why does my inner
voice sound like Malfoy?' Shaking his head, he pulled out the ingredients listed on the board and began his work. 'A sprig of Marjoram, a
few grams each of Stonecrop and Angelica, a few drops of the essence of Lilly of the Valley...' his mind prattled on, trying to keep him
on task and not on the topic of a certain Potions Master.
---
After two hours of sweating, cursing and lost points, Potions was over with barely a confrontation. Of course, Neville nearly
caused a nuclear meltdown when his bright orange and bubbling potion (it was supposed to be a light, periwinkle colour) started
smelling of something foully akin to roadkill. And of course, Hermione lost the Gryffindor's 10 points for trying to assist Neville. While
Snape did sport an insultingly well-thought rhetoric for the fiasco, he delivered not nearly as scathing as one would have assumed. In
fact, he seemed to be on verge of just letting it slide and falling asleep on his desk top. But of course, our dear Potions Master wouldn't
dare put a tarnish on his outstanding reputation, and took points all the same.
When class was nearing a close, Severs announced that the vials selected for the Hospital Ward shall receive extra points. Any potions that were so terribly constructed that they could be used as rat poison ... well, let's just hope they don't make it into your
evening pumpkin juice. And with that, class was dismissed. Severus watched the students place their concoctions on their usual shelf, and scramble out of his room. He doubted that they were eager to get to their next class so much as they were egear to get out of his class. For millionth time it seemed, he sighed deeply. Rubbing his temples, he sat down and was surprised to find Potter still at his working station. He watched with slight amusement as Potter looked around, seeming to search for something.
"Lose something, Mr. Potter?" he asked, his voice thick with sarcasm, clearly letting Harry know that he was really saying "Why in the Hell are you still here?" Potter, noting the edge in the Potions Master's voice, exhaled sharply and looked up.
"I seemed to have misplaced my quill. It doesn't seem to be anywhere around here so I guess I'm leaving..." with one more
quick look, he picked up his book bag and headed out of the room, dropping his potion off on the way out the door. With yet another
discontented look over the room, he raised his wand and pointed it towards the student potions. 'Accio potions' he muttered, and one
by one, the vials made their way to his desk. Glaring at the bottles hard enough to make them shatter, he brought his grading
parchment and began the grueling process of testing each and every one of his students "disasters".
---
"Damnit! I knew I forgot something!" Harry cursed, searching through his bag for his Transfigurations book. "Snapes already
thinks I'm an idiot for losing my quill, but now I've got to go back there and..." he trailed off, muttering darkly to himself. Ron looked over
Harry's shoulder, and sighed.
"Mate, I'm going to warrant a guess here and say that he probably thought you were an idiot before you lost your quill." Harry, rolled his eyes, and muttered "Yeah, you're probably right." Raising his hand, he hoped McGonagall wouldn't hurt him too bad for
his stupidity. 'What is it with you and being stupid today, Potter?' he thought to himself. 'Damn that Malfoy-ish inner voice of mine.'
"Yes, Mr. Potter?" the Transfigurations teacher asked, noting Harry's hand in the air.
"I'm sorry Professor, uhm... I think I left my Transfigurations book in the Potions classroom." McGonagall frowned at this. "Could I go and get it?" Harry could tell by the way Professor McGonagall was looking at him that she was not at all pleased.
"Yes Mr. Potter, you may go and retrieve your book. But I highly suggest you remember it from now on. Leaving things in
Professor Snape's classroom is hardly an intelligent decision, as I'm sure you well know." she stated bluntly. "Now go on." With that, Harry was nodding his thanks and heading out of the classroom, down once more into the cold dungeons.
Not looking forward to the look on Snape's face as he entered his classroom once more, Harry slowed his pace to a brisk walk as he made his way towards the classroom. Allowing his mind to wander, he reflected back on Potions class earlier that day. Not
only was he himself slightly spacey, but Snape didn't seem at all up to his usual sneering, greasy self. 'Maybe it's another one of those
Mondays' he thought, chewing on his lower lip and nearly running himself into a stone wall. But then he began to think back to that one
night ... it was only a few days ago, when he found the Potions Master seemingly deep in thought at the window. 'Maybe that had
something to do with it.' he reasoned with himself. 'I mean, he did seem quite ... lost? Out of it?' he struggled to find the right words, but put it quickly out of mind as he came upon the door into the Potions room. 'Here goes nothing...'
Knocking first, he quietly opened the door as to not surprise the old bat into a rage. "Uhm.. Professor, I seem to have left.. my... uhm... Professor?" Harry asked, coming upon quite a sight in the classroom. There was his dignified, sarcastic, lethal Potions Master ... asleep on his desk, like so many students. His desk was littered with potion vials, most of them a slight purplish colour. Harry approached the Potions Master as if he were coming upon a beast in the wild. As he came closer, he took note of the dark circles under his eyes, contrasting greatly to Snape's pale skin. He also noted that, when sleeping, Snape didn't seem nearly as agitated, or mean, or even remotely... Snape-ish. He just looked ... like a very pale, very sleepy, and very innocent man. Harry snorted at that. Snape? Innocent? Shaking his head, he thought of what to do in such a situation. Should he wake him up or let him sleep? After a fair amount of thought, he decided on the former but not until he got found his book.
Heading over to where he usually sat in class, he found his book sitting on the floor by his chair. Picking it up, he shifted it over to hir right arm and made his way back to Snape's desk.
"Professor ... Professor Snape?" Harry asked mildly, not wanting Snape to jump up and kill him. Not getting a response, he tried again. "Professor Snape...?" He tapped the man's shoulder, just enough to start some movement in the hunched over figure. Snape buried his face into his arms and attempted to go back to sleep, but his brain registered something quite out of the ordinary. He was not in his private rooms, but sitting as his desk in class. And Potter was standing next to him. 'What in the nine levels of Hell....?' he looked up, to see Potter standing over him, some form of mediocre concern etched in his features.
"Potter, what are you-" he tried to mask a yawn, and succeeded somewhat. "What are you doing here?"
"I forgot my Transfigurations book, and I came back to get it. I saw you sleeping and..." he trailed off, not wanting to state the blatantly obvious. Snape, still bleary eyed and half asleep, nodded, not remembering to put his 'I Hate Potter' facade in place.
"Well, if you've found your things then I suggest you get on to class. I don't want Minerva on my case about murdering you and what not." Harry stared. Did Snape just make a joke, albeit a dark one?
"All right, Professor. Uhm... good-bye." Turning around, he headed for the door.
"Thank you for waking me up." Barely reached his ears, but did such nonetheless. Harry stopped and looked over his shoulder. Did Snape just bloody -thank- him?
"You're welcome." Harry said, just as faint, not even entirely sure if he actually heard it. Snape looked up at Harry, nodded once, and then turned his attention back to his parchment. Harry continued walking, and anyone who saw his face would have thought him in a state of mild shock.
----
Ending Note: I hope you people enjoyed that. My processor is whacked out, so I had to go in and manually insert paragraphs TWICE. Once while writing, and once after spell check. It was like some sort of sick and twist Compaq computer game. ::le sigh:: Anywho, please review. Tell me what you liked, what you didn't like and what you'd like to see in the future. If it works with what I'm writing, I'll seriously consider it. Thanks so much for reading.
Cheers,
- sarah