Houses Competition. Ravenclaw Head of House, Round Six. Standard, Prompt: Cracked cauldron, WC: 1155

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One minute we're in Potions, the next we are somewhere completely foreign.

If I had to guess how it happened, I would say that it would be because of that stupid cracked cauldron. It's possibly entirely to blame. And to think we didn't even notice before the golden liquid had started to burst its way through the small gap, cracking it further, and spilling out onto the table we were working on. We'd been engulfed in a sudden - and wildly dramatic - burst of golden dust, distinct with the scent of burning toast and freshly-mowed grass (my least and most favourite smells).

Ta dah, we are in a field, staring up at an enormous castle, desperately trying to recall where on Earth this place could be. I glance sideways at Malfoy; maybe this is his house and he's kidnapping all of us. But he just looks as blank as the rest of us. Great.

"Does anyone have any bright ideas where in Merlin's name we have been magically transported to," Professor Snape cuts through our stunned silence, his monotonous voice a small comfort in this unfamiliar place. Never did I think I would consider Snape to be a comfort - but I guess that's what happening. Maybe I should also expect Malfoy to be polite, and for Harry to become a coward, and flying pigs, impossible beings, Voldemort to crack a smile at a puppy. All of those insane, ridiculous things. That's what kind of a world we must be in if Snape is my comfort.

"Professor, might I suggest that this has something to do with the potion leaking all over the floor?" Malfoy asks, stepping closer to Snape, a smirk beginning to sweep over his features. Snape merely nods, waving Malfoy away. "I also saw it come from Weasley's cauldron - not a surprise really, given the state of it and everything else he owns -"

"Malfoy, be quiet," Snape mutters, stalking away from his star pupil. Again, this is so out of the ordinary that I am half inclined to thinking that Snape has been replaced by someone masking as him using Polyjuice Potion. "Miss Granger, any ideas?"

I balk at being addressed in such a fashion. Almost... Nicely.

"Yes, Professor," I start, shocked. "Maybe it was something to do with the nature of the potion. I'm not sure what Ron was mixing, but it certainly had the associated scents of the Potion of Physical Disorientation - I read about it last week."

He nods in reply. "Very good. I would imagine Weasley was attempting to complete his Potion of Discolouration and added too many Wimblebat eggs."

"That was my assumption, Professor," I continue.

"Okay then, I will start to collect the reverse ingredients and return us to the rightful place." Snape turns to the rest of the class, who look on, utterly bewildered as to the conversation. I myself do not understand why he was civil to me and rude to Malfoy.

I'm almost convinced I spot a flying pig just coming above the trees for a moment. But I soon shake myself from it and move away from Snape to where Harry and Ron stand, looking flummoxed and frozen in shock.

"Hermione, what in Merlin's saggy bollocks was that all about?" Ron demands, halfway between laughing and shouting. "Snape being nice to you? Listening to you? For a moment I was convinced I'd fallen asleep in class, but not even I could dream something so mental."

I laugh, more lightly than I would have done otherwise. Because, I mean, we're possibly stuck in an imaginary world - it all depends on exactly what Ron was thinking about when he put in the extra eggs. Maybe he was thinking back to a fairy-tale, in which case this should be a doddle, while Snape collects the reversal ingredients. Maybe he was thinking about the dream he had, which is why he thought he was asleep.

"Have you had a dream like this recently, Ron?" I ask quickly. If this is his dream, he knows what happens next. And, while we are independent from the dream, things in the dream will still happen to us. For example, if there is a huge giant that comes bursting through the trees, it might kill us. Who knows?

"Yeah, last night. It was crazy - like the world had turned upside down." He scratches his head absentmindedly and smiles. "You were there - but you almost didn't look like you. Harry was there too - it was funny actually, usually Harry plays the hero card, but Neville was up and at 'em with the Sword of Gryffindor, taking off dragon heads and defeating the devil. A good idea for a book, I reckon. Not that I'd write it."

"So say the dream just started, what happened next?" Harry asks, cottoning on.

Ron laughs again. "Classic Weasley dream. The dragon appeared!"

Harry and I catch eyes and hurriedly look around for a sign of trouble. Nothing yet. That's good. Maybe this won't be as I expect, and we're not be inside one of Ron's ridiculous dreams -

CRASH!

Trees are falling in a churning, disappearing fashion, as if crumpled by an enormous beast. A blasting of heat rolls through the forest. I can see fire, glowing, bulbous, through the thicket.

Dragon.

"What happened next, Ron?" Harry demands, hand on Ron's shoulder. "This is important. Your dream is here, we're in it."

Ron grins, as though Harry is pulling his leg. As though on cue, a momentous growling comes from the thicket along with a sudden gust of wind. The dragon rises above the trees, grey eyes seeming to have flecks of gold flame and burnt cities buried within.

"Shit," I mutter. "It's huge!" Harry raises an eyebrow. "Shut up. Wands out, we're taking down a dragon."

"We can't kill a dragon, Charlie would kill us!" Ron protests as he gingerly pulls his wand from his robe pocket. "Either way, we'll end up dead. Let's just... Lightly maim it, or subdue it."

"Great idea, Ronald," I say sarcastically. "Let's subdue a dragon. Sometimes I wonder where your brain is even kept. In your ear? It must be that small -"

"Stop arguing," Harry interrupts.

A burning sensation starts to creep over my palm and fingers. I look down, but there's nothing wrong. The burning covers my fingers, my arm, and feels like hot liquid running over me. What the hell is going on?

"Miss Granger, are you back with us?" Snape's voice cuts through my own thoughts. "You were asleep, and, as you can see, your potion is currently burning your arm."

I open my eyes, and see the golden liquid covering me. Why didn't he say anything sooner?

"I imagine you had a nice dream, but now you're back to reality. Fifty points from Gryffindor for your cracked cauldron. And one hundred points from Gryffindor for falling asleep in my lesson. Now wake up and sort out that spill."

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