All a Dream
Chapter 16
On his way to Hufflepuff and Gryffindor Transfiguration, Harry was walking with Ginny and talking with her about the previous class. He'd been rather impressed with her Patronus, which was a horse, and lasted almost as long as his Patronus, still a stag. They and one of Harry's dorm mates, Lucas Von Hauff, were the ones with the least homework. They only needed to write a two-foot essay on Patronises and their workings, double-spaced, instead of the practice and three foot essay the rest of the class needed to do.
As the pair walked into the Transfiguration room, a capacious classroom with a line of desks around the perimeter, the teacher, Professor Delgado, greeted them. He was short, thin, and looked Hispanic, but his accent was North American. "Hello, Ginny. And Harry Potter, right? Nice to see you back Mr Potter. The seats are arranged alphabetically, so once the rest of the class gets here, we'll find where to place you. Just sit anywhere for now." So Harry and Ginny sat at desks beside each other near the door.
Once the rest of the class had arrived, Professor Delgado took his place at the front of the room. "This is, as you know, the N.E.W.T Transfiguration class. This year is absolutely crucial, considering as how this is your final year as Hogwarts students before being thrust into the working ranks of civilization as we know it. Now, I'm sorry for the workload I'm about to place on you, but it is necessary for your proper advancement. Please open your textbooks to page 7, and follow the instructions."
And indeed, the instructions were among the most difficult Harry had ever seen, though he thought he could probably complete it. The directions said to turn the object given you to a liquid. Not water, but a thick liquid comprised of the object itself. While his students were reading, Professor Delgado distributed several potted plants; they did not appear to be any different from the average Muggle house plant. When the professor had taken his place at the front of the class again, he made the directions a bit more specific. "Take note of the dry quality of the earth in the plant pot in front of you. Professor Sprout needs these plants to survive a little longer than water can provide, so you are to liquefy the middle portion of the dirt. You can do this by digging a small hole in the dirt, and casting the spell through it. You may want to keep your wand at some distance from the dirt." The classmates all exchanged looks, some enquiring, and some mischievous. Stew's and Drew's (across the room from each other) were the latter, and Harry tried to edge away from Stew a little; he would probably get hurt if he stayed too close. "Now, has everyone got their holes dug?" There was a general muttering of the word yes. "Okay. Liquifacere."
As the class repeated after Professor Delgado, Stew's plant pot exploded from the middle, covering everyone in the area with small pieces of pottery and brown goo. The plant was hurled across the room and smacked the professor in the face. "Five points from Gryffindor for not following cautions. Five points to Gryffindor for getting the spell itself on the first try. One point to Gryffindor for making one of the most impressive explosions I've ever seen done with that particular spell. Excellent job. Scourgify." The class laughed, even the Hufflepuffs.
Harry ended up getting the spell on the third try, but he ended up liquefying all of the pot as well. Homework was to practice. A lot. And to read the next chapters in the unit of changing the state of matter, answering the questions at the end of each chapter in full sentences.
.:. :.: .:.
Ginny didn't have Potions with him, so Harry met up with Stew, Drew, and Alexis after class.
"What's Snape like?" enquired Harry.
The three others chuckled. "He's...what one might call a character," Drew replied. "He's got a sense of humour, though he hardly laughs. He's kind of strict, but okay if you don't annoy him."
"How many times have you yourselves annoyed him?"
Stew grinned. "At least thirty times a year."
"Once or twice a year. Not a big deal," Alexis chimed in.
"I've lost count," Drew finished as the company passed the stairs down to the dungeons.
Harry blinked once. He'd just basically been following Stew and all that lot, and hadn't realized they weren't going to the downstairs. "Why aren't we going to the dungeons?"
"Not enough ventilation," said Stew. "We go there when the potions and ingredients we work with react to air circulation. Today, we're on fifth floor." Harry simply nodded.
When they arrived at the Potions room, there was a small throng of students standing outside it. Snape had obviously not arrived yet.
He arrived just before the bell, along with someone Harry recognised with a jolt. It was none other than Hermione Granger. She had hair that was more wavy than frizzy, and she wore glasses, but other than that, she seemed exactly the same. She walked with an air of distinct knowledge, and was talking a mile a minute about the ingredients that needed to be restocked, and the ones that they had overstocked on.
Severn Snape himself was tall, with a pale, but not pallid, skin tone. His eyes were light blue, and greatly contrasted with his black hair, which he kept cropped very short. He continued to wear black, as Harry remembered, minus the cape.
The door was unlocked, and the class followed Professor Snape and Hermione into the large, orange classroom (It was a kind of neon orange. It ensured that no-one would ever fall asleep) with lab tables, almost identical to some of the Muggle ones Harry had sometimes seen on the tele, only they didn't have sinks.
"Okay, class. For those who have only just arrived this year, I am Professor Severn Snape. I did not ask for my first and last name to alliterate. You may tease me about it if you want, as long as the joking is in good taste." At these words, he looked at Stew and Drew meaningfully. Harry tried to imagine what they would have said to Professor Snape, but kept on drawing a blank. "It would also be prudent for me to introduce the teaching intern with us for this year, Hermione Granger, who wishes to teach at Hogwarts herself after the retirement of Professor Barkley in the Ancient Runes department this year. She does not like long walks on the beach, because she would much rather be at home reading." Some light tittering from the class.
The first potion they had to concoct was Veritiserum, and they could only finish it half way, due to the fact that it needed to age properly.
"Now that you have finished your potions," said Professor Snape, smiling. The class had finished. Not everyone's potion was the clear blue needed. Harry and his partner, Devon Stubbs (a rather wiry boy with white-blonde streaks in his shaggy, brown hair that covered his eyes.), had made their Veritiserum a teal colour instead of blue, but it would at least let them pass. "You may now bottle your potions, and place them on Hermione's desk."
As Harry placed his phial on her desk, Hermione whispered urgently to him, "Harry! I need to talk to you at dinner, okay?"
A little wondering, Harry said okay, and he'd gladly talk to her.
"Great! I'll see you later, then."
"One last thing though," announced the professor. "For those in the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, please tell Professor Lupin that the desks were most useful. I hope he finds them to his artistic liking."
A/N: So...this is a chapter, I guess. This is probably one of my favourites, because all the teachers I have written about so far are fashioned after my mother's and my science teachers. One of the aspects of the teachers is the constant pranks. In my mum's science class, the Profs would walk into each other's classrooms during a lecture or demonstration, and take necessary equipment. With my teachers, they involve the students more. My study hall class was once told to tell the next shift teacher that the mice were in the desk. It ended up freaking the next shift teacher out really badly.
The other aspect was the slight insanity and liking of small explosions. It is a regular occurrence for the chemistry teacher to be seen running for the nearest exit with some smoking, acrid chemical.
Now, my pretties! REVIEW! (Cackling laughter!)
