Author:Walter O'Dim

Title:Sunstroke

Category: Romance/Humour
Rating: K+
Summary: An upsurge of solar activity leads to most unexpected consequences...Hagrid/Snape/Harry (alternative OotP).

Chapter Three

Potions

The fifth-year Gryffindors had double Potions on their very first day, a fact none of them was happy about, especially Harry. Remembering the way Snape had looked at him at the start-of-term feast, Harry feared an extra portion of bullying from him and, as he would soon find out, his fears were not unfounded.

Snape entered the dungeon looking as though he hadn't slept all night and apparently in a very foul mood. He slammed the door with such force that some people jumped, stormed to the front of the classroom and turned to face the class, black cloak swishing.

"Before we start today's lesson," he said in a harsh voice, "I'd like to remind you all that next June you'll be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have – or, rather, haven't – learned in terms of potionmaking. Most of you will undoubtedly be saying goodbye, as I only take the best into my NEWT class. However, we still have a year to go before that happy moment of farewell, so I suggest you put some effort into your work, unless you want to suffer my displeasure," – and here he shot Harry a baleful look.

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation -"

"Good idea; you certainly look like you could do with some," muttered Ron. Harry smirked.

"- and , judging by his knowing smile, can tell us about the ingredients and method of its preparation," finished Snape, raising his voice.

"Er -" said Harry.

"Something got your tongue, Potter?" inquired Snape. "We are waiting."

"I – I don't know, sir," mumbled Harry. Malfoy sniggered.

"I don't know, sir," mocked Snape. "Goddammit, Potter! Will I ever hear anything else from you?" Snape's voice rose to a shriek. "You brat! I'm sick and tired of your coming to this class and doing nothing, I'm sick of your making fun of me behind my back, I'm sick of your bloody stupid FACE!" Snape advanced at Harry, his eyes glinting with such fury that Harry shrunk back in his seat. Everyone was looking shocked; they had never seen Snape lose control like this. Apparently, the shocked faces of his students brought Snape to his senses; he took a deep breath, then said in a calmer, but still malicious voice, "Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter. Maybe that will teach you a lesson."

An indignant murmur broke out among the Gryffindors, but it died almost instantly under Snape's murderous stare.

"The ingredients," he snarled, "are on the blackboard." He waved his wand, and they appeared there. "Everything you need is in the store cupboard. You have an hour and a half. Start."

Snape went to sit at his desk, massaging his temples as though he had a headache. The students queued at the cupboard trying to make as little noise as possible, lest Snape flare up again.

"What d'you reckon is the matter with him?" Ron whispered to Harry.

"Dunno," said Harry, glancing up at Snape's desk. His eyes met Snape's, and again Harry saw that peculiar expression in them; then Snape looked away with a grimace.

Harry didn't have much time to look at Snape after that, because the Draught of Peace proved to be an extremely difficult potion and required all of his attention. He did notice, however, that Snape wasn't walking up and down the aisles and making snide remarks about the work of his students as he usually did; he stayed at his desk and appeared to be reading a book.

"A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion," Snape called finally, with ten minutes left to go.

What was rising from Harry's cauldron could hardly be called light, and it certainly wasn't silver; still, many people had made an even poorer job of their potion than he had. So Harry was very surprised by Snape's reaction, even though he had long gotten used to receiving "preferential" treatment in his class.

Snape had passed everyone's table without comment. At Harry's table, however, he stopped; his cheek started to twitch.

"What's this supposed to be, Potter?" he asked, pointing at Harry's potion.

"The Draught of Peace," Harry said tensely. Snape sniffed.

"Are you mocking me, Potter?"

"No, sir."

"No?" Snape's cheek was twitching downright violently now. "You are telling me this is the Draught of Peace, although it doesn't look like it in the slightest. If this isn't mockery, then what is it?"

Harry said nothing, staring determinedly at his cauldron.

"You answer me when I ask you a question!" Snape shrieked suddenly, seizing Harry by the hair and forcing the boy to face him.

"Professor Snape, what are you doing?!" exclaimed Hermione. Harry wrenched his head from Snape's grasp, pointing his wand at him at the same time. Snape raised his own wand; a girl screamed.

"Come on, then, Potter," hissed Snape. "Attack me. Give me a reason, and I'll send you to the hospital wing for the rest of the year."

For a moment it seemed that Harry really would attack Snape, despite his threats; then he lowered his wand, breathing heavily and staring at Snape with pure loathing – an expression mirrored by Snape's eyes, although with a generous mix of madness.

"That's better, Potter," breathed Snape. "Like father, like son, I see: never attacks those who are stronger than himself," - at these words Harry made to raise his wand again, but Ron grabbed his arm. – "Wise move, too; as you didn't actually attack me, you won't be expelled. I'll have to content myself by taking fifty points from Gryffindor -"

"What!" cried the Gryffindors, but Snape roared, "SILENCE!" and everyone shut up at once.

"- and also by putting you in detention," he finished, speaking to Harry again. Strangely, he seemed to regret his words the moment they were out of his mouth; as he couldn't take them back, however, he added, "Wednesday night. Nine'o'clock. My office. Do you understand, Potter?".

"Fuck you," spat Harry. Everyone gasped. Harry grabbed his bag and stormed out of the dungeon, as Snape called after him, "That's another fifty points from Gryffindor, Potter!".