Potions Class Gone Wrong -Harry Potter Fanfiction-

Chapter One-Festina Tempus

     As the sixth year students hovered over their cauldrons, stirring, chopping, dicing and the like, the room soon became stuffy, almost sweltering hot. Many of the wool robes that were uniform were cast on the backs of chairs as the students stood.

     Ties, gold and green, were loosened from necks, shirts were un-tucked, sweat dripped from noses and sleeves were rolled up as the potions bubbled and hissed.

     Professor Slughorn, with a cooling charm previously put in place, observed the students, stopping by desks, making comments, giving tips, and walking away to look at another pairs cauldron.

     House unity being particularly popular this year, (there were many rumors going around about it being so Dumbledore could have a bigger army should Voldemort attack) the groups of two were in pairs, one from each house.

     The professor eagerly surveyed the work of his favorite student, Harry Potter, and his partner, Draco Malfoy, and was not disappointed.

     Draco was bent over the cutting board, and Harry was pouring over a book, making offhand comments every now and again about how Draco should cut, only for the blond to retort disdainfully.

     "Well done, my boys," Slughorn praised, beaming. At this stage and time, the potion should be the lightest shade of blue before white, which was a light periwinkle, and so far their potion had come to be the nearest colored shade.

     Poor Neville and Pansy's potion was a sickly green. Slughorn had tried his best to stay positive, as always, but found himself floundering, completely astonished as to how they had come across the color.

     Draco seemed to raise slightly at the praise, a smirk twitching his lips, while Harry shuffled his feet, gave a murmured "Thank you." and when back to the book.

     The time had been slowly ticking down, and soon only fifteen or so minutes were left til the bell. Slughorn was taking a last round, and frowned upon coming across his favorite pupil. The two seemed to be in a heated argument, which seemed to involve a lot of jerky arm movements.

    "Boys, behave yourselves," Slughorn scolded lightly, before grimacing slightly at their potion, which the boys did not take kindly to...Draco, at least. The potion had gone from the perfect (at the time) periwinkle to...a not so perfect shade.

     At this point, the finishing result, the potion should  be a soft turquoise, with a dense texture, almost chunky. Theirs had turned into a sharp, colorful bright green. The texture was close, though, if not a bit on the runny side. Slughorn gave them a comforting pat on the back, unaware he was making the Slytherin of the group fume, and shuffled away.

     Several minutes had passed since Slughorn departure, and Draco's glare on Harry had not dimmed. Harry shuffled awkwardly, keeping his head down.

     "You're fault, Potter," Draco murmured, absentmindedly stirring the potion. He winced at the too-runny texture.

     "How so?" Harry asked, an eyebrow quirked in question.

     "Obviously, you handed me too many of the crushed bat spleens! The book clearly said two, and you gave me who knows how many!"

     "Well, maybe you should have counted them yourself."

     "Please, Potter, don't make me laugh. When we partnered for the potion of forced will, we agreed that I would do the important part, and you'd hand me the correct amount of ingredients, since I thought that you could manage that without sodding it up. I was wrong, apparently."

     Harry huffed, frustration coloring his face red. He opened his mouth to retort, but then Slughorn started to speak. So, he closed his mouth, and with a final glare, focused most of his attention on their Professor.

     "As you are well aware, we have been making the Festina Tempus potion, which de-ages the drinker by about a year for an hour, but the effects can be modified in all ways, besides which direction you age. You may only age downward with this potion. Now, as you should be finished by now, please bottle a sample of your potions, but don't clean up your cauldrons just yet! And make sure to write your name and your partners name neatly! My eyes aren't what they used to be! Send only one of you up to give me the potion!" Slughorn said, ending it his a hearty chuckle.

     The sound of clinking bottles and scratching quills filled the room, and Slughorn decided he should now announce why they shouldn't empty their cauldrons, because someone would do just that if he didn't give a reason.

     "Remember! Do not empty your cauldrons just yet! A few of the chosen people will be testing their potion!" A nervous aura filled the room, as the students stared at their cauldrons in anxiety. They hadn't been informed of this at the start of the double lesson. Nonetheless, they sat back down after turning in their work, eyes flickering nervously between professor and potion.

     "Would anyone like to volunteer before I pick you out by hand?" The professor said with a smile, which quickly turned into a frown as no hands were raised. But, that was til a single, dark hand was raised. "Ah, Mr. Zambini, please, come forward with another bottle of your potion." A second later, Blaise of the Slytherin house walked toward the front of the classroom, bottle in hand. "Now, class. Please remember the effects of this potion, not currently related to the modifications that can be made. This version, currently, should de-age Mr. Zambini by a year, and the effects will last for an hour. At least, if it was done correctly. Now, Mr. Zambini, whenever you're ready." Slughorn encouraged.

     Blaise uncorked the bottle, careful not to slosh the liquid, and brought it up to his lips. The turquoise liquid was quickly drained.

     A look that Blaise would be embarrassed to know looked like compensation passed over his face, followed by a grimace and a violent shudder. A huff of air left his nose, almost like the wind was knocked out of him, and he shrunk an inch, his face became slightly rounder, and his arms and legs shrunk a bit, losing muscle.

     "Well done Mr. Zambini!" The professor praised, and a smug little smile fluttered across the now fifteen year old boy's face, before he nodded, and returned to his shared table, sitting next to his partner Hermione silently. "Would anyone else like to go, before I start picking people?" Slughorn asked the class. When no one raised a hand, he sighed. "Well then, let's see...Ah, Mr. Potter! Why don't you come up?"

     Harry's eyes resembled a doe's as they flashed in fear.