"Some of you will excel greatly in this class, yet again. Some of you, who I am surprised have even gotten this far, will fail horribly and face the consequences..."

Professor Snape's silky and commanding voice traveled across the cold Potions classroom. The Slytherin's listened to him with rapt attention and deep respect. The Gryffindors listened to him with a mixture of deep fear and even deeper hate.

Ron's eyes were shooting daggers at Snape when he heard the comment about those who would fail horribly. Harry's eyes mirrored Ron's, but for a different reason. Snape's Occulemucy (A/N: Sorry. Is that how you spell it?) lessons were still fresh in his mind and broke back memories of pain and anger.

Hermione would have scolded the both of them for being so obvious about their feelings but, amazingly, she wasn't there. The seat that would have usually been occupied by her was empty. Ron and Harry would occasionally stop glaring at Professor Snape and would glance curiously at the door.

One question lingered in both their minds: Where was Hermione?

Suddenly a loud BANG echoed throughout the classroom. Everyone turned their heads to the source of the commotion and a loud gasp issued forth. It was Hermione.

But it was not ACTUALLY Hermione. The real Hermione would have run into the classroom, all flustered with her bushy hair in a frenzy upon her head and her robes all disheveled, and furiously apologizing to the teacher about being late. But THIS Hermione was different.

Her robes WERE disheveled and weren't put on correctly. The sides flapped open to reveal the outfit she was wearing underneath. The outfit consisted of a black satin camisole with black lace embroidering the neckline and a black satin skirt that was ripped up and torn in strategically placed areas. Her feet were pulled into a pair of black lace-up boots and her frizzy mass of hair was pulled up into a messy bun. What looked like a pair of earrings shaped like black dice dangled from her earlobes.

"Miss Granger! Not only do you not possess the talent to examine a clock and realize that you are LATE FOR CLASS, but you INSIST on disrupting class by wearing a direct violation of dress code! Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?"

"Yes."

Another small gasp was heard in the classroom. What was going on with Hermione? She was not acting like herself at all. If this happened last year, Hermione would have stuttered and let out a long stream of apologies complete with very complex vocabulary words and a look of panic written across her face. But this Hermione was completely calm and collected and her eyes held a flash of defiance.

Professor Snape stared at her for what seemed like hours. His cool, calculating eyes seemed to be analyzing her actions and body language. Finally, he gruffly cleared his throat, startling the rest of the class.

"Miss Granger, see me after class. I would like to have a word with you."

Hermione didn't dignify him with a response and merely walked to her chair in between Ron and Harry. She dumped her books on her table with a loud BANG and then leaned back in her seat, a bored expression on her features.

"Today, we shall be learning a very advanced potion. It takes great skill and intelligence to brew it so DO NOT ACT LIKE IDIOTS AND SPOIL YOUR CHANCES OF EVER GETTING A GOOD GRADE IN THIS CLASS."

Everyone jumped at the loud exclamation. Well, everyone but Hermione. She merely rolled her eyes.

"This potion is so complex that anyone who believes that they do not possess the talent to brew this potion should just leave now."

Of course, no one left 'cause then they'd look retarded.

"Today, we shall be brewing...a LOVE POTION!"

A moment of silence. And then-

"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"SILENCE! You uneducated pain-in-my-necks may laugh now but I would hate for you to be under the affects of this potion."

The laughter quieted down a bit.

"Once someone is subjected to this specific love potion, they will immediately fall in love with the first person they lay their eyes on. This love will soon grow into an obsession until it consumes the individual. If their love is not returned in thirty-days, they will be subjected to severe pain and heartache and eventually causing death."

No one was laughing at this point. A thick blanket of tension seemed to be draped throughout the entire room. Professor Snape's lips stretched into a cold smile.

"I shall now choose your partners... Potter and Pansy Parkinson."

A loud groan and an even louder shriek omitted from the back.

"Weasley and Millicent Bulstrode."

"Are you CRAZY? She'll beat my arse to bloody oblivion!"

"Weasley! 20 points from Gryffindor for speaking out and inappropriate language."

"MghuhshnfndnfsnkncnsncsstupidSnape..."

"Longbottom and Zambini."

Groan. Frightened squeak.

"Granger and Malfoy."

Strangely enough, the two students did not utter any signs of protest against their fate. They merely looked at each other and then looked back at Professor Snape. Many eyebrows were raised when they heard no moans or groans from the Head Girl and Head Boy.

"'Mione! Didn't you hear? You got paired with the ferret!"

"I heard perfectly fine, Ron."

"WELL?????"

"Well what?"

"Aren't you pissed off?"

"No."

"Why the bloody hell not???"

"One: I'm not an immature, insensitive prat who has an odd fascination with the size of his gentalia."

"Oh right! Like you wouldn't be a bit angry if Malfoy said you're dick was the size of a paper clip. Or an eraser. Or abread crumb. Or my family income."

"TWOOO: Malfoy and I are the Heads and we have an obligation to be good role models."

"Yeah right. You're hiding something, 'Mione." Harry exclaimed, his eyes suspicious.

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"Ok. We'll let you off for now but we're gonna figure out what's going on with you sooner or later. Oh, and don't even get me started about what you're wearing."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Well besides the fact that you look like a five dollar crack-whore, NOTHING!"

"RONALD BILLIUS WEASELY, YOU'RE LUCKY THAT I HAVE TO GO BREW A POTION WITH MALFOY OR YOU WOULD BE MISSING A VERY IMPORTANT PART OF YOUR MALE ANATOMY RIGHT NOW!"

Hermione snatched her books and stomped over to Malfoy's table.

"Nothing is worse than having to listen to Ron and Harry say you look like a prostitute." She thought to herself. She seated herself next to Malfoy.

"Helloooo, Granger." He crooned, an evil smirk planted o his features.

"Then again, maybe there are worse things..."

(A/N: Yeeeaaahhh! Longest entry EVER! So review!)