Under the Weather part 3.
"POTTER!"
Harry winced at the furious shout. He looked sideways to see Hermione grimace at him, and then pull up her shoulders, signalling that he might as well get it over with.
He collected himself off the floor and glanced over his desk. The room was a wreckage, drenched with the frothing purple potion everywhere. It was dripping off shelves and desks to the floor, the steady drip-drip-drip sounding loud in the shocked silence that followed the explosion. He noticed that most Gryffindors were peeking over their desks just as he was, as were some Slytherins who'd trusted Hermione's judgement well enough to follow her shouted advice. Most of the Slytherins hadn't, though, and they were sporting the signs of purple goo all over them. Snape stood amongst them, droplets of the stuff dripping down his greasy hair and off his big conk of a nose. The Potions teacher was covered in the stuff from head to toe. Harry swallowed with difficulty.
Snape seemed so angry that for a moment he was incapable of speech. His mouth was set in an angry growl, his hands clenched at his side. If he'd had fangs, Harry was sure venom would've been spouting from them.
Finally Snape seemed to get a grip on basic vocabulary, but only just barely. "You!" he growled at Harry, pointing a claw-like finger at him. "Thought to ruin my class, did you? Thought to have a bit of a laugh, did you?"
"I didn't...!" Harry started to object, only to be cut off by Snape shouting: "Shut up! You demolished my classroom! Detention! Tonight! You better be here at nine or you'll wish you were never born a wizard in the first place!"
Harry pulled his mouth in a tight line, knowing objecting would only land him in more trouble. He caught a glimpse of Malfoy from the corner of his eye. The blond was trying to slap purple goo from his ears. Despite his predicament, Harry had to try not to smirk.
Snape was pulling deep breaths through flaring nostrils, calming himself. Everyone was rooted to their spots, afraid to attract his attention. A drop of purple stuff hung precariously off the tip of his nose. "Everybody out!" he snapped. "This room will have to be sanitised! Get changed before your next classes!" He looked around furiously as the students cowered before him as deer caught in headlights. "Well? Get out!"
There was a scramble as everyone jumped for their belongings, not minding if purple potion covered their books and bags, and stampeded out the door.
Snape banged the door shut behind Hermione, who was the last one through. It shook precariously in its hinges but managed not to fall out.
Ron, Harry and Hermione stood looking at each other in the hallway, taken aback by what had just happened.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione sighed, shaking her bag to get the potion off.
Ron shook his head. "Leave him alone, Hermione," he said. "It was an accident. A tremendously stupid one, but still."
"Gee, thanks Ron," Harry said moodily, but he let his shoulders hang in resignation. "Some day I'm having," he complained finally.
Hermione looked at him with sympathy, and shrugged. "It was an accident. Don't let it get you down, Harry," she said benignly. "Let's get out of here so we can clean this goo off our stuff before next class."
The boys nodded and started after her. Those students who'd been hit were still standing in the hallway too, trying to get as much potion off before walking to their common rooms.
"Nice going, Potter," Malfoy sneered darkly as the threesome passed him. "If you fly as well as you brew potions, the match'll be a breeze. Maybe you should let Longbottom have a go at it."
For once Harry couldn't find a suitable reply, and he just threw a saccharine look at the Slytherin.
"Don't count on it, Malfoy..." Ron snarled, not so resistant to get into it, when Hermione grabbed both of them by the sleeves and dragged them along.
"Just - let - it - go," she said angrily. "You want Snape to come out here and catch you fighting after what just happened?"
As if she'd invoked his spirit the classroom door opened with a slam and Snape's harassed face glared down the hallway, catching out the retreating Gryffindors.
"I almost forgot!" He said slimily, a glint in his black eyes. "Thirty points from Gryffindor!" The door was slammed shut again.
The Slytherins sniggered maliciously and Harry grew smaller still, even as he walked away with Ron and Hermione at his side, both loudly proclaiming the unfairness and sourness of Snape. It really wasn't fair. Even covered in purple slime, the Slytherins still managed to get a laugh out of him instead of the other way around.
Their next class was Care of Magical Creatures, but since they still had some time before the start of the lesson, they hung around in the Great Hall, at the Gryffindor table, where Hermione tried her best to clean their books from any purple spot that might have desecrated them. Harry sat glumly at the table, watching Hermione try spells from her Charms book (why she'd brought it was anyone's guess, as they didn't even have Charms today) and half-heartedly answered Ron's eager questions about that morning's practice.
"... and Wood charmed that picture to show you what it looks like, so did you-"
"Really, will you just knock it off, Ron," Harry finally snapped. "It was a disaster. I couldn't even see my own broom, let alone try a Wronski Feint."
"Well, excuse me," Ron said, taken aback. "Doesn't mean you have to bite my head off."
Harry sighed and dropped his head to the table. It made a satisfying thunk. He picked it up and dropped it again. Resisting the compulsion to do it again, he turned it so he could see his frowning best friend. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "It's been an awful day. I've been rained on, blew up my potion and landed myself a detention. And it isn't even lunch yet."
"That's okay," Ron said, placated a bit, though his good mood had dissipated in the wake of Harry's bad one.
"You don't look too good either, Harry," said Hermione suddenly, while never lifting her eyes off the last book up for cleaning. "Are you feeling all right?"
Harry lifted his head off of the table and raked back the hair that fell in his eyes with his fingers, only to have it fall back as soon as he dropped his hand. "Wood woke us up at five thirty this morning," he explained. "Wanted us down on the pitch, briefed and ready to begin at six."
"What? Five thirty? That's insane!" Ron interrupted disbelievingly. "He's going barking over that Cup!"
"And a fat lot of good it did us too, with all that rain," Harry grumbled. "We're never gonna win if we play like we did this morning."
"No one's going to win if you play in weather like this morning," said Hermione sternly. "Not only might you catch your death of cold, but it's much too dangerous! You know what happened last time!"
"Yeah, Dementors happened," mumbled Harry darkly.
"Nonsense," Hermione huffed. "I don't understand why Professor Dumbledore let that game go on as long as it did anyway. You could hardly see a thing in that storm. You could have all got hurt, playing until that rain cleared or until one or all of you dropped from your brooms in exhaustion! Honestly-"
"Hermione, please," said Harry, rubbing both hands through his hair this time, setting it on end. "I've had practically no sleep and a headache to show for it. I'm really not in the mood for a lecture right now."
Hermione glared at him. Ron hastily interfered with the remark that it was about time to go down to Hagrid's anyway. The trio packed their things into their bags silently, except when Harry and Ron thanked Hermione for cleaning their belongings. When Harry told her they looked just like new, her glare softened.
Harry thought it was just as well they had class. With the foul mood he was in, he didn't doubt he might insult both his friends irrevocably before the day was over, and he really didn't mean to do that. But he hadn't been lying about his headache - it pounded steadily away just behind his eyes - and he really hadn't slept enough. His eyes felt gritty and swollen with tiredness. It made it increasingly difficult to stay focussed and not lash out his frustration at someone else. And it wasn't as if he could crash in his dormitory after classes, because he had both his Dementor class with Lupin, as well as a detention with Snape waiting for him that evening.
When the three of them stepped outside it did nothing to improve his temper. The downpour had stopped, yes, but it had been replaced by a steady drizzle that soaked one just as readily if you stayed out in it long enough. For the second time that day Harry stomped his way through the muddy puddles, muttering under his breath, pulling his cloak tight around him.
"Watch it!" Hermione complained as he splattered mud up the hem of her robes.
The students gathered in front of Hagrid's house, huddled close together to shield each other from the rain, while a considerable gap was left between the Gryffindors and Slytherins (who didn't look pleased at having changed their robes just to get them soaked through right after).
"Isn't there an umbrella charm or something," Ron muttered, wiping raindrops off the end of his long nose.
Hermione looked chastised when she told them "I don't know any," even though nobody blamed her. They didn't know any either.
Hagrid appeared from behind his house, holding his pink umbrella open above his head. "Everybody 'ere?" he asked boomingly, scanning the students. He looked really pleased about something, and not at all perturbed that his class was shivering on his lawn, getting wetter by the second. "This weather 'ere is perfect for the Flobberworms," he told them happily. "Yeh can all take 'em out fer a walk and maybe let 'em have a swim inner puddle. It'll build up their appetite."
Harry shared miserable glances with Hermione and Ron. He'd been hoping that Hagrid might put the Flobberworms in the shed, nice and dry, so they could have an easy time of it, throwing lettuce at the worms and drying up before lunch. The last thing he wanted was to take a Flobberworm for a walk in the rain. He didn't even think a Flobberworm could walk.
There was nothing to be done about it though, and Hagrid was already distributing worms to everyone. Harry accepted his Flobberworm and meandered off, looking for a nice puddle.
"Remember," Hagrid called to his students, "don't let 'em escape or drown!"
Harry rolled his eyes. How could a Flobberworm escape when it managed to move a striking distance of six inches an hour? And, honestly, who cared?
Most of the other students sought refuge under trees to keep dry and dumped their worms in nearby puddles. Harry followed this example and trudged to a large tree. He dropped his Flobberworm in a rainy patch, where it sank to the bottom, sticking one end out of the water - Harry wondered if perhaps that was the answer to the mystery of which side its head was on, though with magical creatures you could never know for sure - and the worm bopped with the tiny waves the raindrops caused. Harry huddled under the tree, which guarded him from the rain and draft quite well. He was still wet throughout though, and it didn't take long for him to start shaking with cold. He thought he might get warmer if he moved around a bit more, but he was loath to leave his dry spot, so he weathered it out, occasionally stomping his feet, waiting for the time to bring his Flobberworm back to Hagrid and get it fed.
It didn't take long for Hermione and Ron to join him under his tree. They put their worms with Harry's - Hermione's floated horizontally on the surface, Ron's swam circles around Harry's for a minute until it sank completely - and leant against the tree with him.
"I can't believe Hagrid's still making us study Flobberworms," said Hermione, while squeezing water from her, for once, flat hair. "I could be studying Arithmancy right now. Or looking up an umbrella charm."
"Or we could look up more facts for Buckbeak's case," added Ron.
Hermione and Harry nodded. They all looked glumly at each other, and then back at the Flobberworms.
"Can't you do that drying spell you did this morning, Hermione?" asked Ron, after they'd been staring at the immobile worms for fifteen minutes, shivering and wet.
"I could, but you'd just get wet again when we walk back up to the castle," said Hermione. "Anyway, this tree isn't completely waterproof either."
"Plus, you don't want your hair to explode," Harry mumbled, earning him first a glare, then a smile from Hermione, as she remembered what he'd looked like this morning.
"My hair doesn't need an explosion to look like that," she said good-naturedly. Harry and Ron chuckled.
"Mine could use some volume, though," joked Ron, trying to bob up his straight hair. "I feel out of place between the two of you."
"We're just making up for the fact that we don't have your natural vibrancy of colour," Hermione retaliated.
"Yeah, and contrary to you, we need the extra height," added Harry.
"So that wild hairdo of yours is nothing but a ruse to add length," Hermione giggled.
"I still say it'd be perfectly straight if he'd just pick up a brush, the lazy sod," said Ron, looking heavenward as if exasperated, knowing full well how Harry raged wars with hair and brush every morning.
"Lazy eh?" said Harry dryly. "I don't see you getting up at five thirty in the morning. Although, if it wasn't for your best friend the human alarm clock I think five thirty would be exactly the time you'd get up, but it wouldn't be in the morning, would it?"
"I have three words for you," Ron said grinning. "Purple goo explosion."
"Did you see Malfoy still has a big gob of it hanging behind his left ear?" Hermione remarked casually.
Both Ron and Harry stared at her. "No way," said Ron, turning steadily red.
"Oh yeah," said Hermione, looking satisfied.
Like one they turned to locate the pointy-faced Slytherin. Three trees over, Malfoy was scratching distractedly at his ear. Though it was too far off to actually see if there was still leftover potion there, the three of them simultaneously burst into laughter. Malfoy and several of his cronies looked up to scowl at them, but that only set them laughing louder.
TBC
