Chapter Four

The dungeons were particularly chilly that evening. Its walls were dark and grimy and its floors were stone cold. Hermione shivered, clutching her robes tightly as she stepped closer to her companions, thankful for their body heat.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked, biting her lip as she stared at the door that led to Slughorn's office.

She felt Harry shift on his foot beside her, causing the invisibility cloak that concealed the trio to flutter slightly.

"Positive," he stated confidently. "While the two of you go inside and collect the potion, I'll stay here and distract old Sluggy if he decides to stop by. I'll let you guys know when the coast is clear."

"We'll need a signal," said Ron.

"Ooo good idea. Here, let me demonstrate," said Harry, pulling them closer to the wooden door. He raised his knuckle and began to knock a steady beat, the rhythm of which sounded oddly familiar to Hermione. It took her a while to recognise it.

"Please don't tell me you just knocked out the chorus of the Macarena."

"Why not? That song is iconic, and you mark my words, it will never get old," insisted Harry, causing Hermione to snort.

"Hey, I know that song! Dean got that stuck in my head the other day," said Ron, excited at finally understanding a muggle reference.

Harry turned to Hermione. "See? Even Ron knows it. Iconic."

Ron nodded eagerly. "It's very catchy."

"Did you know there's even a dance move to go with it? I can teach it to you, if you want."

Ron's eyes lit up at the prospect. "There is? Muggles are so inventive," he said in wonder.

Although Hermione rolled her eyes, she had to admit she found Ron's excitement very endearing. "Okay, the Macarena signal it is," she said. "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, can we please get back on track? We only have forty minutes until dinner is over."

"Please don't remind me. It's treacle tart Friday, which means I'm missing out on a slice of heavenly goodness," moaned Ron as he stepped out from under the cloak. Hermione followed suit, leaving only Harry invisible.

"Remember, only fill up three phials. If you take too much, Slughorn might notice," came Harry's voice. It was only now that Harry was invisible that Hermione realised how odd they would look if someone were to catch them.

"Yeah, yeah, we know. Just stay quiet and don't try to scare anyone just because you're invisible, like last time," said Hermione, in a warning tone. She recalled the last time Harry and Ron had spent an entire day under the cloak, scaring Terry Boot after he and Ginny had broken up. They did all kinds of things. Levitating his books. Pushing him into Slytherins. Writing on his parchment during classes. Suffice to say, the Ravenclaw was absolutely terrified, convinced that he was jinxed.

Even though she couldn't see him, Hermione was convinced Harry was smirking. "I wouldn't dare."

With a pointed glare at Harry, or at least at the direction in which she thought he stood, Hermione followed Ron over to Slughorn's door. He tugged the handle. It was locked. He lifted his wand and said, "Alohomora," and the door swung open. Together they stepped into the office, leaving Harry behind as the door clinked shut behind them.

Slughorn's office was exactly as Hermione had pictured it to be. Overly furnished. At least it wasn't pink, like Umbridge's was.

Ron let out a low whistle. "Slughorn really likes to collect things, huh," he said, picking up a framed photo of the Holyhead Harpies. It was autographed by the captain of the team. "It must be nice, having all these connections." While he didn't state it outright, the message was clear. Ron was upset that Slughorn had not collected him, despite choosing Harry, Hermione and even Ginny. Hermione was aware of Ron's continuous battle with his insecurities and self-worth, and wanted to tell him that he was worth more than just a silly club. But she knew Ron would think otherwise (his constant need of approval was another insecurity of his), and so she changed the subject.

Pointing to three large cauldrons in the far left corner, she asked, "Which one contains the polyjuice potion?"

Ron put the photo away and looked up. "It's got to be the middle one."

They reached the cauldrons and Hermione tried yanking the lid open. "It's heavy."

"Allow me," said Ron, pulling out his wand. He swished and flicked just as she had taught him in first year. "Wingardium Leviosa." The lid levitated into the air and Ron pointed it to the floor, where it rested.

"Impressive," said Hermione in a teasing voice.

Ron smirked. "Well, I've had plenty of practice. That troll didn't knock itself out, you know."

Hermione laughed. That day had felt like a distant memory. So much had happened since then. It had felt like she had been pulled out of the frying pan that was her first year, and into the inferno, where she currently was.

"You've got the phials?" asked Ron, pulling her away from her thoughts.

Hermione nodded, pulling the phials and a ladle out of her pocket. Gently, she began to pour in a hefty amount of the potion into each phial, before handing them over to Ron who had placed the stopper over each one. He slipped them into his pocket and secured the lid back onto the cauldron.

"Right, we've gotten what we need. Let's go."

Ron placed a hand on her shoulder. "Wait. I want to see something."

She watched as Ron levitated the lid off of another cauldron. Inching closer, she noticed that it contained Felix Felicis. Alarms began going off in her head.

"Do you have any spare phials?" asked Ron.

"No," said Hermione, realising where he was going with this. "And even if I did, we can't take any. It's too risky."

"But come on, Hermione. It's liquid luck! We can use it to help us with our plan."

"Absolutely not. You heard what Slughorn said. If you take too much, it becomes addictive. Besides, we're breaking too many rules as it is."

"Yeah, but it's because we're breaking too many rules that it wouldn't make much of a difference if we nicked some of this."

Hermione sighed deeply. She couldn't think of another way to talk Ron out of his insane idea. Much like her other impulsive best friend, Ron had this stubborn streak that was hard to break.

"Hang on, some of this is missing!" exclaimed Ron. Hermione sidled closer only to realise that he was right. A good portion of Felix Felicis was in fact gone from the cauldron. It definitely wasn't them who took it, which meant that someone else had broken in earlier and stolen it.

"But who would –" She trailed off at the sound of frantic knocking. It was Harry and his weird signal, which if you asked Hermione, sounded nothing like the Macarena.

The door flung open and what must have been Harry came barrelling in. "Someone's coming and it definitely isn't Slughorn!"

Ron was fast to react. He slammed the lid back onto the cauldron containing the Felix Felicis and crouched onto the ground. Hermione felt an invisible hand grab her arm, pulling her towards Ron, before the cloak enveloped them all.

Loud footsteps echoed from outside the office.

"Potter," drawled the familiar silky voice. "I know you're hiding somewhere."

The door to the classroom creaked open and Hermione's heart pounded in her chest. It was Snape. He must have picked up on their absence during dinner. She inwardly cursed. Out of all the people who came looking for them, it just had to be the Professor who hated them the most.

"Weasley, Granger, I know you're here, too."

At the sound of his name, Ron froze. Snape marched into the room. If someone didn't do anything soon, they would undoubtedly get caught. Hermione reached for her wand, but stopped short as she noticed Harry edging for his pocket. She watched in curiosity as he pulled something out, lifted the cloak up until his hand stuck out, and while Snape stared at the other side of the office, Harry deftly chucked it straight at the Professor's greasy head. There was a loud crack! and before she could even blink, Snape was out cold on the floor.

Hermione's jaw dropped as she stared at the item Harry had thrown at Snape.

"D-Did you just knock him out with one of Hagrid's rock cakes?" If she wasn't so distracted by the bizarreness of it all, she may have found it funny.

"Sure did. That's what the slimy git gets for giving me detention on the first day of term."

Hermione continued to stare at him, amazed. Ron, on the other hand, found the whole situation hilarious. "First an apple, and now a rock cake, all in one day! Looks like the old bat isn't as invincible as he makes himself out to be."

This really wasn't how Hermione pictured the evening to go. She stared at her professor in concern. "Should we take him to the Hospital Wing? I'm not really sure how long he'll be out for. Hagrid really bakes those things hard, huh?"

Ron snorted. "He claims to bake them with love. What do you think he'd do if he finds out they're better off as weapons than desserts?"

"Let's not find out. As for Snape, let's just leave him here. Someone will find him," suggested Harry, and quietly, the trio tiptoed back to their dorms. All in all, their mission was a success.

.

Severus awoke with a start. A white figure leaned over him, staring at him in amusement.

"I'm glad to see that you're awake, Severus," said Dumbledore.

Severus's head was pounding and he felt rather groggy. "Where am I?"

"Why, you're in the Hospital Wing, of course. Poppy's just gone out to fetch a potion. She'll be back soon."

Hospital Wing? Why in Merlin's name was he there?

He must have asked this aloud, for Dumbledore answered, "Because you had a concussion. During your prefect patrol, you were hit on the head by a rock."

Severus winced, rubbing his head. "A rock?"

"A rock cake, to be more specific." said Dumbledore, squelching his laughter. Severus shot him a glare.

"It was Potter. It had to have been him. Who else accepts those abomination of biscuits from Hagrid?"

"Did you see Harry before you were attacked?"

"No."

"Then we do not have any evidence to pursue this. It could have been anyone who attacked you."

Severus's frown deepened. Trust Dumbledore to turn a blind eye on his precious little Gryffindors and go around victim-blaming. Just then Madame Pomfrey returned holding a box of potions.

"Here," she said, handing the box to Severus, who lifted a brow.

"What am I supposed to do with all this?"

"Drink them, of course," said Poppy, placing her hands on her hips. "It will help with the concussion and swelling."

Severus counted the number of potions. There were seven in total. Why on earth did he need that many when he had simply gotten a concussion?

Poppy gave him a stern look. "Severus, that rock really hurt your skull. Drinking all those potions will not only relieve you of your headache, it will also stop the swelling and hopefully fix the dent."

"What dent?" His hands lifted straight back onto his head and to the source of the throbbing.

"The dent from the impact of the collision."

Severus heard rather than saw Dumbledore holding back another chuckle. If looks could kill, Dumbledore would have died faster than any damage that cursed hand of his was causing.

"Fine, I'll drink it," he said sulkily.

He looked around the room, and to his dismay, found Seamus Finnigan laying on the hospital bed opposite his, watching the entire exchange with a smirk. Severus growled at him, causing the younger boy to look away. He couldn't have the Gryffindor telling his friends what he saw. It would unravel his entire reputation, one that took years to build. Students didn't cower at his presence for nothing.

Severus drank his potions, one by one, then turned to Dumbledore. "Just so you know, regardless of whether it was Potter, I'll be deducting two-hundred points from Gryffindor for this."

Laughter finally escaped from the old man's lips, much to Severus's annoyance.

A/N - Thanks for all the kind reviews I've received so far! And shoutout to the reviewer who spotted that Terry Boot is in fact in Ravenclaw and NOT Hufflepuff. I've now ammended my mistake :)