By Goddess JacquesPierre
Chapter Twelve: The Potion
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all associated and/or non-associated things that I don't own do not belong to me. Perhaps it was redundant, but it certainly beats my English substitute, whose comment "Partners is definitely sufficient enough" led me to lose all respect I may have had for her. Anyone who uses the phrase "sufficient enough" should be shot (not necessarily lethal except in the case of the repeat offender. As far as I am concerned, the breed of people who perpetually mix up 'lose' and 'loose' belong in the same category). Moving along, they belong to their respective owners, who are not I. My writing, sarcasm, witty remarks, not-so-witty remarks, comments, ideas, and other creative property, however, do belong to me, and anyone caught filching them without permission will be sentenced to the same fate as those select few for whom loosing their lives is not sufficient enough. (So I didn't feel like coming up with something new. Bite me.)
At seven o'clock the following morning, Harry woke up abruptly because Snape had just poked him roughly with a large, knobby plant that Harry had never seen before in his life. "Up; I need to finish this potion before the next full moon."
"Whenzat?" asked Harry, still groggy.
"It's a week from tomorrow, but this potion also requires four full days to brew, and that doesn't count preparation time."
Harry poked Draco, who had been awake before he had fallen asleep during Harry's question.
Draco rolled over, murmuring something suggestive that Snape decided he hadn't heard. Snape poked Draco with the knobby plant more roughly than Harry had done.
"Mmmm.... no, not now, 'Arry," slurred Draco, clearly half-asleep. " 'M too tired."
Snape cleared his throat loudly and pointedly. "If you do not wake up, Mr. Malfoy, there will BE no more Harry."
Draco sat bolt upright in bed. "My Harry. You can't have him." He stood up, naked and ignoring the goosebumps that Slytherin's perpetually unpleasantly cold temperature provided free of charge (and with the relevant bits fuzzed out for the Censors of Doom, much to Harry's disappointment). Snape pointedly turned around as Draco nonchalantly walked straight into a floor lamp, which fell to the floor with a resounding clang.
"All right, since neither of you seem coherent yet, I'll give you a reprieve. You will both be in the third dungeon of the right past your Potions room, ready to assist me, within the hour; if either of you are late, both of you will suffer consequences that neither of you will enjoy. Do not expect this type of leniency again; I expect punctuality -- that is, you shall both be present and ready to work at no later seven-thirty-- for the rest of the holidays." Snape turned on his heel and walked out in a flourish of black cloak and greasy hair.
Draco blearily waved his wand, conjuring a magical coffee pot to perk away cheerful on the bedside table. "Come on, 'Arry," he said, grabbing the Gryffindor's wrist and pulling him determinedly towards the door. "We're going to take a shower."
Half an hour and two orgasms later, Draco and Harry were sitting in bed, dressed and eating a hurried breakfast. Draco was chugging coffee in a manner that amused Harry, who was making pointed comments about the addictive qualities of caffeine to annoy the blonde, who was in turn taking the comments with uncharacteristic poor grace.
Draining his mug, Draco stood up abruptly. "Null point, Harry, we'd better get in to see Snape before he takes off our heads."
"I thought he liked you," Harry protested.
"No, that's mostly an act. I don't think he's getting enough sex, myself; no properly satiated person should be that grouchy."
"You were that grouchy before you had me." Harry stood up and followed his companion out of the dorm room and down the corridor.
"Exactly, Harry; I wasn't getting enough sex."
"I thought you were the resident Sex God of Slytherin."
"I was. You, however, possess the finest piece of tail that I have ever had the pleasure of sleeping with."
"Awww, Draco, do I really?"
"No," said Draco sarcastically. "I was lying to see how big the already-inflated PotterHead Ego could get before it bursts."
"That's so sweet of you, darling! Let's go off, get married, and have children!"
"Not on your life, Potter." Draco sighed, leaned over, and kissed Harry on the cheek. "Now, we have a potion to brew." He opened a door and held it for Harry. "Ladies first?"
Harry wrested the knob from Draco's grasp. "Oh, of course, Dracette. After you, sugar."
Before Draco could threaten Harry's life and/or manhood, Snape spoke. "Good, you're finally here. Let's get to work. Here's what you're going to do..."
It was midafternoon before Draco dropped his knife. "Who's the werewolf, Professor?" he asked.
"What werewolf?" Snape was feverishly stirring a cauldron. "Keep cutting that wolfsbane, Malfoy, if you're going to engage in idle chitchat and speculation."
"Sir, this is wolfsbane. You've got Harry preparing the moonflower, and I'm sure that's chamomile and powdered unicorn horn I see over there on the ingredients table. Furthermore, we've been going through the first seven steps of preparing the Wolfsbane potion. I'm not stupid, sir, with all due respect."
Snape chose not to say anything until a few minutes later when a familiar voice drifted in from an adjacent chamber. "Sev, darling, where's my shampoo? All I can find is yours."
"Professor Lupin? What's he doing here?" asked Harry, halfway between anticipation and befuddlement.
"That, Mr. Potter, is none of your business." Snape raised his voice. "It's on the third shelf in the cabinet directly to the left of the sink, right where I told you the house-elves put it."
There was the sound of rummaging, then Lupin walked into the room, wearing only a towel. Harry decided it was a prudent moment to involve himself deeply in his current task.
"You know, Lupin, I did request that you leave me to my potion today," Snape said curtly. "Alone."
Draco, pretending to be enthralled with his wolfsbane, stifled giggles.
Lupin draped his arms around Snape. "You always get grouchy when you work on your potions for hours, Severus, and I'd rather not live with you when you're that irritable. I'd bet that you haven't even taken a lunch break."
"We have company," Snape said through gritted teeth. "Student company."
Lupin looked around, noticed Harry and Draco, and nodded to the former before redirecting his attention to Snape. "The fact remains, Severus, that while there are many interesting things such as this pickled newt--" (Lupin proffered the jar gingerly to Snape) "--in the cabinet, my shampoo is not one of them. As I'm not here in an official capacity--" (Harry gasped) "--it would be most helpful if you would remedy the situation."
"You could use mine," Snape said irritably. "That would be the practical thing to do."
"Severus, we both know that the purpose of that shampoo is to make you as unattractive as is magically possible. You could be gorgeous if you tried."
"I do NOT want 'gorgeous' to become one of my descriptors, Lupin, as well you know. Now, if you would please unhand me while I finish this potion? I am sure that you of all people can understand its importance."
Lupin sighed. "Take care of yourself." He walked out of the room.
"What are you two staring at?" asked Snape testily. "You're done for the day. Out." Both boys stared at him dumbly. "Are you deaf? Get out!" They beat a mad dash for the door.
Author's Note: Yayy! I'm writing again! And this time, the time elapsed between chapters is more along the lines of three weeks, and less along the lines of three months!
However, I'm having some trouble figuring out where I'm going after this chapter-- one reason it's so short; I'm still deciding where exactly I'm going after this. I'm not sure if Harry and Draco would talk about what they've found out or appear to have found out, and if they do, I need to decided what they think (which I'll do anyway, of course, and I already have a couple ideas) and how one of them is going to initiate the conversation. If they don't actually talk it out, which is the option I'm leaning towards, I need to figure out how it's going to affect the storyline (er, what storyline there is) and how, if at all, I'll include character opinion in the story. In other words, I, the classic 'indecisive writer', have reached a "point at which I must make decisions," and don't know how I shall proceed. Of course, I value input, especially helpful input like "if you turn it into a foursome, I will shoot you." You have been warned.
Thank You Section:
White Dragon Priestezz: Well, now you know some of Snape's motivations. My friend just sat me down and argued with me about Snape as a plausible character, and perhaps I shall flesh him out later on. I shall probably pull a JK, though, and have a nice back story for the character all worked out and not share it with anyone. Oh dear, you've given me another acronym. "Write, damn person!"? "Wash Draco Potter"? "Why did Percy..."? "Waffle, Duck, Pencil"? "With Dire Parsnips"? "Wait during postponement"? I don't think I've got it, but it hasn't go a vowel in it, so it's not a real word. sigh I shall have to post this chapter promptly so I can recieve my answer!
mandraco: arches eyebrow at penname As opposed to female Draco? Oh dear. As for the word 'premise', thou hast hit it (come sit on me! Er, no, that's from Much Ado About Nothing . Sorry). It's spelled correctly. However, if you stare at most words long enough, they start looking funny. I've found that "yellow", "purple", and "banana" go particularly ridiculous under close scrutiny.
Mintie: Thank-you. I spend a great deal of time avoiding clichés. In a fandom with so much fiction (and so much of it bad), it's hard to avoid them. You may judge the 'plausible' for yourself. I find myself skewing the characters to my speech patterns, but luckily, my speech patterns are so eclectic that it almost blends.
Silver Salamander: Yes. Plants are crazy. Let's pass a constitutional amendment banning them. You have also uncovered my slimy FicAuthorSquirm, you immoral person you. Bah, now I have to decide whether to hope that no-one notices that you've uncovered it and cover my slip as planned or come up with a new one, which is unlikely to be even remotely plausible. I trust that this chapter is more timely, and thus more to your satisfaction?
Darkness-Angel-2004: Since you asked so nicely, I'll just have to say no! Sorry, clearly I'm lying; it's just something my father always used to say to me around Christmas-time. Here 'tis; I suppose I'm a sucker regarding reviewers who beg.