It was Potions. Advanced Potions. Harry Potter had known he had beat the test, when even Snape couldn't find something to complain about. It had... almost been easy. Zambini had been a good teacher - a lot better than Hermione, and not just because Hermione was a bit of a softie and prone to passing papers once he had half learned something. No, it was patience that Hermione seemed to lack, Harry thought, as he stood outside the door.
"Harry, what are you doing here?" Hermione asked, as she looked - well, startled actually.
Harry concealed a smile, as he says, "Class starts in five minutes, doesn't it?"
"... but you aren't..." Hermione managed to get out, before pausing as she took in Harry's irrepressible grin.
"Am now. Passed the test, if you can believe it." Harry says with a grin, wondering, for a brief second, just exactly why Snape would make a test easy enough for him to pass.
Hermione stated in the snottiest tone possible, "The great and magnificent Harry Potter managed to pass a test that Potions Master Snape designed? Say it isn't so!" Her tone rose at the end to flabbergasted gossip.
"'Fraid so." Zambini said, materializing out of a sidehallway that neither of them had been watching. The two Gryffindors whirled on him, with glares of equal intensity. "Wasn't trying to startle you, ya know?" And Zambini gave them the rogueish grin he was famous for - one that Harry had heard made enough girls wet in the knickers...
Cutting off that train of thought, Harry said, "Hey, you made it!" At which point, Hermione Granger's eyes got big, and she stared at Harry Potter. Harry felt he could read her mind - was Harry actually being nice to a Slytherin?
At this point, Malfoy sauntered in, waving a dry "G'day." and turning to Granger, saying, "Dandelion root or Marsh's Mallow? We're going to need something for the astringency."
"Not if we balance the bitterness with a dash of lemon." Granger responded tartly. Malfoy opened the doors, and looked at everyone now staring at him.
"Daylight's burning. Let's get this done before curfew, right?" Malfoy drawled, and stepped inside.
Hermione and Malfoy began to set up at the same table, which was interesting enough - Harry had half thought that Hermione would be with him, simply because he wasn't Malfoy. Or a Slytherin, for that matter. Perhaps, she thought getting better grades was worth it? Harry Potter considered that, and then mentally shook his head. He hadn't thought Malfoy cared about his grades that much - it wasn't at all bothersome that Hermione cared, because that was what she did.**
Zambini came over, carrying two cauldrons in his arms, smiling while saying, "I guess we're working together?" Without really waiting for Harry to answer, Zambini began to set out the cauldrons. "You can get the ingredients, you know..." Zambini said with a goofy grin, taking most of the sting out of the jibe at Potter's inattention.
"Right, right..." Harry said, as he ambled toward the ingredients storage area, where Hermione and Malfoy were already there - arguing. From the sound of it, Harry'd better get over there, before someone managed to "drop" something encased in glass on the other person's. Thinking this, he increased his speed.
Stepping in between the two was asking to get spat on - they were nearly breathing in each other's mouths, they were leaning so close together. Harry, being both a Gryffindor and a Seeker, was undeterred. He walked in between them, forcing both of them to take an unwanted half-step back. It said something that they both didn't want to take a full step back, didn't it? Some people were just stubborn like that, Harry supposed.
The argument didn't show any signs of ending, either, even after both Malfoy and Hermione were back at the desk, acting all huffy towards each other (which was practically normal, compared to them shouting in each other's faces). Of course, neither Hermione nor Malfoy was actually going to let the argument lapse. Stubborn, I tell you.
By the middle of the potions class, Malfoy had drawled something, and Hermione was standing on her tiptoes to get enough height to look Malfoy straight in the eye. Harry Potter was just starting to consider doing something about this - as clearly something needed to be done (He was not going to suggest being Malfoy's partner. That would be worse than this, surely?)...
Zambini suddenly spoke up, "You certainly don't expect us to let you turn the entire class into an argument, do you?"
Almost as one, Malfoy and Hermione Granger turned to look at Zambini. Apparently, they did... Harry thought, as Zambini stared back, looking just as implacable.
Zambini twirled his knife in his hands, once, and then said - to Harry, of all people, who did not want to be part of this argument... "I suppose it's obvious, isn't it?"
Baffled, Harry looked at Blaise Zambini, and asked "What's so obvious?" Harry turned back towards Malfoy just in time to see the arrogant boy's smirk wiped clear off his face by Zambini's next words.
"Malfoy likes Granger." Zambini said in a sing-song, schoolyard tone. Malfoy responded with a murderous glare, his eyes narrowing into slits.
And then Zambini elbowed Potter, who looked at him. Zambini then made a gesture, pointing to Hermione, and then to Malfoy. Harry still looked baffled. Zambini repeated the gesture. Twice. Finally, a light seemed to dawn in Harry's face. Mimicking Zambini precisely, he responded with, "Granger likes Malfoy!" in that precise, schoolyard, singsong tone.
And now the two erstwhile allies were met with twin glares. "As if!" both Malfoy and Granger responded, leaving Harry Potter thinking that it might be impossible for those two to ever like each other - they were far too much alike. It would be like the Weasley twins dating each other, except worse.
"Look here," Zambini said, blatantly ignoring the fact that both of the argumentative twits were glaring at him, "You can't keep arguing like this. Either you'll end up kissing, or you'll get blood in my cauldron!" With his last few words, Zambini let a little of his exasperation at the two slip into his voice.
"You think there's a way to stop them from arguing?" Harry looked at his partner doubtfully. He had never managed to stop anyone from arguing. Not his aunt, not Ron, not even poor Neville Longbottom. When someone got their heels stuck in the mud, it didn't work to try and drag them away.
"Yeah. Look, we've got four people here. That's four cauldrons. Granger - Malfoy - you each get two recipes. We'll each take one, and that way, you can stop arguing about what's best. We'll just test them." It was a sound idea, Harry couldn't help but think. Not that solid ideas stood much chance of getting through those two thick skulls (Oh, sure, Harry Potter liked Hermione just fine, but she was stubborn. It was part of what he liked about her).
Hermione, of course, had questions, "But what if we don't come up with four different recipes?"
"You will, most of the time. And, pairing up in potions has never been a problem before. I doubt Snape would mind."
"Professor Snape." Hermione said, to which Zambini grinned.
Whatever Zambini was about to say, it was smoothly cut off by Malfoy, who fairly drawled poison as he said, "I suppose I could make sure Potter got the easy recipe."
Harry Potter turned hostile eyes towards Draco Malfoy, until his mind caught up to what his ears had just heard. His face relaxed, and he sent a grateful look towards the pale boy.
"Stop that." Malfoy snapped at Potter, who mentally filed away in his "Drawer of Potentially Useful Things to be examined During Free Time, Should It Ever Exist" that Malfoy was just as awkward about accepting thanks as he was resistant to giving it.
**Just Harry rearranging "expectations" in his head. Not actually annoyed at Hermione.
[a/n: Ahh. Finishing a thread feels nice. Next up more poetry. Write me a review, and I'll update quicker.]