CHAPTER 4: POTIONS
"Potter," Snape yelled across the classroom, his nostrils flared, "What have I told you about speaking out in my classroom?"
Harry looked strangely at him and replied, "Actually, Severus, I was not speaking out; in fact, I was not speaking at all. I think you are very much mistaken in accusing me of something I didn't do."
Everyone turned to look at Harry. Who talks like that?
"What did you just say to me?" Snape hissed.
"Obviously, you're still just jealous because I love Ron, and not you. As I told you yesterday, Severus, I am way out of your league."
Snape blinked.
Hermione blinked.
Ron blinked.
Harry blinked.
Seamus blinked.
Draco winked.
Snape blinked.
The orange monkey outside the window blinked.
Ron blinked.
Hermione blinked.
"Enough with the blinking!" Pansy Parkinson suddenly shouted, standing up, her nostrils white and her breathing hard.
Everyone turned to look at Pansy. What kind of pansy gets so worked up over blinking?
Well, Pansy Parkinson obviously.
Don't you dare contradict me!
Anywho, Pansy let out a deep breath as she sits down again; everyone still stares at her.
Snape blinked.
Draco blinked.
Hermione blinked.
Harry bl-
"Enough!" was shouted at him from every other person in the room.
Snape looked around at all of the students in his classroom and blinked. Luckily, no one saw him blink, so no one else blinked. Anyway, he looked around his classroom - err, Dungeon - and blinked, then sighed.
Nobody loved him.
But that's beside the point.
At the moment no one in his class was paying attention to him, the Professor, the teacher, Snape! They should have been paying attention to him! He was the one at the front of the classroom, no? But how do you get a whole bunch of seventeen-year-olds to give you their attention?
Hm.
How do you get a bunch of seventeen-year-olds to give you their attention?
Well, Snape thought and thought. And thought. And thought some more. And some more. And thought some more. And thought and thought and thought. But in the end he came up with no ideas.
Snape breathed a heavy sigh and thought some more. And thought and thought. And some more thinking; and some more thought.
Nothing.
What an idiot.
Poor little Snapey, for at that moment the bell rang and all of the students that should have been paying attention to him in the last hour rushed out of the door to the Dungeon and skipped away merrily, up to the Great Hall for lunch.
In another Dungeon three miles away and two blocks to the left, Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy sat planning mischievously about another plot to kill Harry Potter, the seventeen-year-old wizard who had "defeated" Voldemort five times.
Wow.
Well, Malfoy and Voldemort wouldn't say defeated, per se, because Voldemort was still alive, correct? Or alive again, or whatever you want to call it.
Anywho, they sat planning.
"What if we send him a letter filled with poison?" Lucius suggested.
"You fool!" Voldemort snarled, "The Ministry is still checking owls!" he spat at him. Can you say anger problems?
"Sorry, my Lord..." Lucius mumbled, his voice trailing off as he looked to the ground.
A few minutes passed by. Voldemort's face, if you could call red eyes and three slits a face, crumpled into a confused expression.
"What if we lured him out of Hogsmeade with an archery contest?" Lucius suggested again, lifting his head, but shrinking back in his seat slightly.
"An archery contest..?" Voldemort brought his hand to his chin, thinking very hard.
"Well, it worked with Robin Hood, sir."
Voldemort sat thinking for a few more minutes until suddenly he jumped up so fast Lucius screamed and fell over as Voldemort pointed his extremely thin and pale hand into the air. "I'VE GOT IT!" he yelled, "We'll lure him out of Hogsmeade with an archery contest!"
Lucius looked up at him, a bright expression on his face. "Brilliant, master, just brilliant."