Crimson_Lore
patreon
HP Chapter 84: Before and After Potions Class
🕑 Added 2025-09-13 14:00:15 +0000 UTCOn Friday afternoon, Anne hurried toward Professor Snape’s Potions classroom. She had lost track of time earlier while tending to a newly planted rare magical herb. Thankfully, Professor Sprout had reminded her in time, otherwise, she would have been late for Potions.
When she finally arrived, Anne realized the class bell hadn’t rung yet, but Professor Snape was already standing at the front. Malfoy wore a smug grin, as if he’d just done something remarkable. Only Crabbe was trailing behind him this time, Goyle was nowhere to be seen.
On the Gryffindor side of the room, the atmosphere was far more somber. Anne immediately noticed something unbelievable: Hermione wasn’t there. As she made her way to the seat next to Fanny, Anne scanned the Gryffindor students twice, confirming Hermione’s absence.
Just as Anne sat down, the bell rang.
“What’s going on? What happened? Where’s Hermione?” Anne leaned in close and whispered to Fanny while Snape began explaining the new potion's preparation steps.
Fanny leaned in as well and whispered back, recounting the whole story.
Before class, Malfoy and his gang had been parading around the corridors wearing provocative badges and taunting Harry. Wands were drawn, curses were cast, though none hit their intended targets. Harry’s Scorching Fire-Hex hit Goyle, while Malfoy's Bucktooth Curse struck Hermione.
“So Professor Snape just sent them to the infirmary?” Anne glanced over at Malfoy, who looked ecstatic, whispering something to Pansy Parkinson that had her giggling.
“Uh…” Fanny hesitated before quoting Snape’s actual words. “He said, ‘I didn’t see any difference.’”
Anne’s expression briefly flickered with surprise before Fanny continued.
“Hermione ran off right after that. I think she was crying. Harry and Ron started shouting at Professor Snape, and Gryffindor lost fifty points. Both Harry and Ron got detention.”
When Anne heard that Hermione had cried, a surge of anger bubbled up inside her. Her dislike for Malfoy deepened, and even Snape, who she usually admired, dropped a notch in her estimation.
But before Anne could dwell on it further, Snape’s icy voice sounded from behind her and Fanny: “It’s time to brew potions, not gossip.”
They immediately turned their attention to the materials on the table and the instructions on the blackboard. The classroom fell into its usual silence, broken only by the occasional bubbling or small pop from cauldrons.
That quiet didn’t last long.
A knock came from the dungeon door.
It creaked open to reveal Colin Creevey, a third-year Gryffindor. He slipped sideways into the room, flashed a smile at Harry, then walked toward Professor Snape.
“What is it?” Snape asked impatiently.
“Sorry, sir. I’m here to take Harry Potter upstairs.”
Snape’s eyes darkened like a black hole as he stared Colin down. The poor boy’s smile vanished instantly.
“Potter still has an hour of Potions left,” Snape said coldly. “He can go upstairs after class.”
Colin’s face turned red.
“Sir, Mr. Bagman sent me,” he stammered. “All the champions are being called. I think it’s for photos and interviews… with the Daily Prophet...”
For a few seconds, Snape said nothing. Then his voice rose sharply.
“Fine! Potter, take your bag and get out of my sight!”
Harry slung his bag over his shoulder and stood up. As he passed the Slytherin tables, glowing letters that read Potter Stinks flashed from all directions, accompanied by loud laughter, especially from Malfoy.
When the end-of-class bell rang, everyone lined up to place their completed potions on Snape’s desk. Anne submitted a well-brewed vial, then left the classroom with Fanny.
“Anne, this isn’t the way to the dining hall. Where are you going?” Fanny asked after they’d walked for a bit.
“It’s not dinner time yet, and there’s nothing new on the menu tonight anyway,” Anne replied. “I thought I’d check with Madam Pomfrey about the purified magical herb potion from last time, see if it’s all been used.”
“Oh? And you’re sure you’re going just for that reason? Not to check on a certain someone’s condition?”
“What? I’m not going just to see Hermione…”
Fanny grinned mischievously. “Anne, I didn’t say who, you brought that up all by yourself…”
“I was going to say, I’m just… checking how the Gryffindor genius could be dumb enough to get hit by one of Malfoy’s sorry excuses for curses.”
Anne’s ears turned red. Seeing this, Fanny wisely dropped the teasing.
Inside the infirmary, only Goyle and Hermione remained. Madam Pomfrey had placed them at opposite ends of the room, Hermione at the far back, Goyle near the door.
As Anne stepped in, Madam Pomfrey was handing Goyle a potion. Hermione, sitting up in bed, stood and greeted Anne with a polite nod, which Anne returned.
“Anne? What brings you here today? Visiting a friend?” Madam Pomfrey asked while tending to Goyle. “She’ll be ready to go soon. Just a quick check-up left.”
“I also wanted to ask if you’re running low on the purified potion batch I brought in last time,” Anne said, glancing at Hermione.
“There was quite a bit in that batch. I don’t think we’ve run out yet,” Madam Pomfrey replied, then gave Goyle a few final instructions before walking toward Hermione’s bed.
Anne followed her over. After a brief check-up, Madam Pomfrey nodded. “All good. You can head to dinner with Anne now.”
A faint blush crossed Hermione’s face. She thanked Madam Pomfrey, then walked alongside Anne.
“Anne, what were you doing at the infirmary?” Hermione asked as they walked.
Anne replied casually, “It wasn’t quite dinner time yet, and I wanted to check if Madam Pomfrey still had enough of the purified potion. Professor Sprout seems to think I like doing this kind of thing, which, to be fair, I do.” She paused. “And also, I was curious how someone supposedly talented in spellwork got hit by Malfoy, of all people.”
Hermione, knowing Anne meant her, explained, “It all happened so fast. I wasn’t prepared. Harry and Malfoy both drew their wands, and it was, ”
“Against school rules,” Anne finished, wearing an “I knew you’d say that” expression.
“Yes, it was a serious rule violation. I knew Snape would use it as an excuse to dock points from Gryffindor. At least 30. And Harry would get detention. I wanted to stop them.”
Anne suddenly stopped and looked at Hermione. She was just a hair taller now.
“Hermione, are you an idiot?”
“What? I…”
“When two angry wizards have their wands out, do you really think ‘trying to stop them’ is effective? Fast enough? If you're in range, your first move should be to draw your wand and defend yourself. And you do realize Snape doesn’t need a valid reason to take points from Gryffindor, right?”
“But Harry, ”
“I think if Harry had managed to hex Malfoy and then got fifty points docked and a detention, he might have been happier.”
“But breaking school rules is serious, and the consequences, ”
“Rules are dead things. People are alive. When there's danger, your first priority is to protect yourself.”
“Anne? You told me to remind you when it was almost dinner, ” Fanny pushed the door open and saw Anne and Hermione standing just a few steps from the entrance, deep in conversation. Goyle was already asleep from his potion, and Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight.
“Uh… should I leave you two alone for a bit?” Fanny asked, reaching for the door.
“No need to close it, Fanny,” Anne said, glancing at Hermione. It was clear the girl didn’t agree with her, so pushing the point further was useless. “We're done talking.”
“Let’s go, Hermione. Time to eat. Harry got pulled out halfway through Potions class by Colin Creevey for a champion interview and photos. I doubt dinner will be fun for him, especially after that fight with Ron.”
Hermione didn’t agree with Anne’s view on rules, but she had to admit it was time to eat.
Since Anne had joined S.P.E.W., Fanny had chosen not to comment on Hermione’s activism. That had helped them return to their usual camaraderie.
On their way to the Great Hall, the three of them chatted about the history of the Triwizard Tournament, past champions, and the more bizarre events over the years. When they arrived, they split up and returned to their respective house tables.
“Anne, guess who I saw outside the infirmary while I was waiting?” Fanny asked excitedly as they sat at the Slytherin table.
“No clue. Just tell me.”
“I saw Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet! She’s the special correspondent who wrote that outrageous article about the International Confederation of Wizards last summer, did you read it?”
“Oh, the one that said Dumbledore’s a senile old crackpot with outdated views who refuses to listen to others?” Anne recalled that article vividly. Aaron had been furious such a piece was published, especially so prominently.
“That’s the one! I met her once at a summer banquet, so I’m sure I didn’t mistake her. Honestly, once you’ve seen her, she’s hard to forget.”
“A first impression that sticks?” Anne asked.
“Mmm… that’s one way to put it. I wonder what kind of story she’ll write about the champions tomorrow?”
“I think that’s something worth looking forward to…” Anne said, her interest piqued.
