Thanks for the reviews. Here's a new chappy for you lot, wot wot?

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Happy Fourth, ppl!

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter not owned here...and this story idea was from an old challenge fic so that's not mine either

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Meanwhile, Neville Longbottom had proved to have an supernatural talent with cooking. He used a spatula to flip pancakes with his left hand while at the same time deglazing pasta sauce with his right. He already had two pies in the oven, and one was ready to go in once there was room.

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Snape stopped by to check up on him, and he was honestly dumbfounded.

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"Mr. Longbottom, can you explain how you can cause more screw ups in one class than the rest of the school on every other day combined in Potions-"

Neville winced.

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"And yet be a Cooking Prodigy!"

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"I don't really know sir. Considering I've never really cooked at all before, I'd say it's a miracle."

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As he spoke, Neville finished with the pancakes and without really looking began sifting flour for the cookies.

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Snape sighed before moving along.

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Malfoy, on the other hand, was not doing nearly so well. After fuming for the first five minutes that he actually had to get his hands dirty, he, Crabbe, and Goyle had tried making a cake. Malfoy had decided it would be simple enough.

After the water, flour, eggs (and their shells), plus other 'ingredients' had been mixed together, he'd come across the great idea that they'd bake an ice-cream cake. So after eating a lot of the ice cream, they mixed the remaining ice cream in the batter, poured it into a pan, and stuck it in the broiler.

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"See, it's hotter so it'll get done faster," Malfoy said.

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Goyle and Crabbe just nodded stupidly. They passed the time insulting the groups near them, until a peculiar smell drew everyone's attention to their oven. Snape swooped over as Crabbe pulled out the blackened, steaming mess their cake had become.

It made a sound like a deflating balloon when it was dumped onto a plate.

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One station over, Ron spluttered, "What is that - that monstrosity?"

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Malfoy sneered at Ron while Goyle and Crabbe eagerly cut themselves pieces.

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"It's a private recipe. Only the Malfoy family knows how to make something as excellent as this will be."

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Goyle and Crabbe each took a huge bite. They turned green and passed out a second later. Snape closely examined a section of cake.

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"Congratulations, Mr. Malfoy," he said in his usual sarcastic manner, "You've managed to recreate the world's deadliest poison with eggs, flour, salt, and dill weed."

A lot of students giggled.

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Fortunately, or unfortunately depending how you saw it, Snape had plenty of antidotes on him. Crabbe and Goyle, still very much alive, were shipped to the Hospital Wing as the class ended.

Snape also took Malfoy's wand, ignoring any and all protests about Charms being next, and threw everyone out of the kitchen.

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At dinner, there was a long line of students going to the teacher's table to retrieve their wands. It was very embarrassing for them, since the entire school could now see exactly who they were.

But what really took the cake was when Malfoy made his way up front.

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Every single person he passed covered their food and cried, "Ah, no! Don't poison me!" Malfoy's normally pale complexion was a flaming red by the time he reached Snape.

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And it didn't stop there. After he'd grabbed his wand, Snape made a loud announcement.

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"Mister Malfoy," he said, and the room quieted instantly. "Since it would appear you require some assistance in my class, it looks as though I shall have to give you a personal instructor."

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Snape looked around and his sneer somehow got even bigger.

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"Mr. Longbottom? Would you be so kind as to help Mr. Malfoy during the rest of our cooking classes?"

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Neville swallowed, and bravely said, "Yes Professor," while in the background a lot of people were laughing into their sleeves. If it was possible, Malfoy got even redder.

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The next few cooking classes passed in a more orderly manner. More people remembered to use water instead of their wands to put out fires, Hermione had figured out 'lb' and 'Tb' and was now capable of making scrambled eggs on her own, and Draco had managed - with a lot of help from his very nervous instructor - to make a single chocolate chip cookie.

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The other eleven had burst into rainbow-colored flames upon contact with the air outside the oven, and the sole surviving cookie tasted strongly of garlic and chalk, but it looked like a cookie, and for Draco Malfoy, that was a pretty big improvement.