A/N: This
chapter is dedicated to TheOneAndOnlySkippy because they reviewed
online first. Wee! The next chapter will be dedicated to Mooncheese.
And for the record I mean no offence by anything I say or write, unless it starts with, "I don't like you, so I'll be honest."
If you people would like to, you can add me to your msn. I love talking to people on there and I always love talking while I write. And hey, you may even get in on some of the upcoming chapters. My addy in in my profile. :
Disclaimer: I've bought the rights to everyone in the Harry Potter series whose name ends in "-us." Severus, Remus, Albus, Seamus, Sirius, Mundungus, etc. All mine. Mine to bend to my will.
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Behold the Turtle
Chapter Three - It's a Celebration in a Bun!
Harry Potter wasn't seen for several days after that. No one knew what the hell was going on, but they were glad they didn't have to endure his mad rantings about nothing. Rumour had it that he was being sent to St Mungo's for psychological evaluation. The only one sad about that was Neville. He knew that as long as Harry was insane, he had a fighting chance.
Wednesday of the next week was the first time he was seen again. It was Gryfindor/Slytherin potions class, just after lunchtime. He approached the students waiting to be let in with a very serene expression wearing Buddhist monks robes. He smiled around at the silent group. "Walk the middle way," he told them, sounding as serene as he looked. "Travel the Hershey Highway."
The class door opened and Snape's voice barked, "Hurry up, dunderheads!" His eyes widened in surprise when he saw Harry. "Mr Potter," he purred. "Your new seat is in front of my desk." He smiled and watched Harry's ass as he walked up the aisle to the desk. "Faster!" he snapped at the thoroughly creeped out class. Once everyone was seated he sneered at them and announced, "Today we will be making a hemorrhoid healing salve. You have one hour. Instructions are on the board. Begin."
The class burst into motion, gathering ingredients and setting up cauldrons. As quietly as possible they remarked about the odd choice of potion today. Snape had been giving bizarre assignments all week. He made the first-year Hufflepuffs write an essay about all the different uses of a numbing lubricant. The poor kids had been having aneurisms all over the school that night. One girl had sacked Ron Weasley when he accidentally trod on the back of her shoe. He had been in pain the rest on the day.
The class desperately ignored Snape and Harry through the class as they made goo-goo eyes at each other and flirted. "I knew he was a slimy git," Seamus remarked quietly to Ron and Hermione, "but I wouldn't have thought him a pervert too."
"What the hell is Harry playing at?" Ron demanded of Hermione. "What the hell is he doing, hitting on Snape of all people?"
"Do I look like I know what's going on?" she snapped back. "Just shut up and let me do this. Oh gods, is that Snape giggling?"
Yes. Yes it was. He moved from his desk in front of the class to the desk beside Harry and they were apparently looking at a book, flipping through the pages slowly. Giggling. Neville sulked at them from behind his cauldron. "Bastard," he muttered, adding way too many lama testes. "Moving in on MY sex kitten …"
"Harry doesn't even like you, Neville," Dean snipped. "He likes a mans man. Some one more like me."
Neville glared at him, muttering about bastards, gits and air fresheners. The class passed slowly, phrases like "Those can't be real" and "I don't know dykes could do that" and "Merlin, THAT is flexible" floating from the front. The students of both houses actually worked together in order to escape quicker. Unfortunately, it didn't work.
"Class, shut up and pay attention," Snape said just before the bell rang. "Harry dear has a product he's selling. You get to be the first people to see it … well second," he smirked, winking at Harry.
The class shuddered as one as Harry grinned back and stood, holding the book he and Snape had been looking at. "This, ladies and gents," he said proudly, having abandoned his Buddha-like tranquility, "is the crowning achievement of The-Boy-Who-Lived. See? It says right there." He pointed to the title of the thin book. The Crowning Achievement of the Boy-Who-Lived, it read. "It's a desktop calendar! With lesbians!"
"Fuck you," Hermione murmured, burying her face in her hands. "Why do you hate me Jesus? Did I kill a Pope in a past life?"
"Why doesn't he stop?" Ron choked beside her, banging his head lightly on the desk.
"… And this one is of Pomfrey and Sprout, and that's Mrs Norris, I don't know what they're doing in that one…"
Okay, the narrator is slightly creeped out at the moment. We'll just leave it at a dreaded
TO BE CONTINUED!
