Magic Never Dies (Harmione)

Chapter 25

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Hermione was as good as her word and within twenty minutes they had the required cauldrons and ingredients; the few they were missing were procured quickly and discreetly by Ron from the twins' shop. He refrained from mentioning they were going to be used by Snape, not wanting to risk any 'accidental' contamination incidents. Normally he'd have been quick to jump on the prank wagon when it came to their former potions professor, but the thought of an exploding horcrux in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place - let alone what Hermione would do to him when she found out - made it just not worth it this time round.

Harry prowled the perimeter of the kitchen like a caged lion, pacing. Snape had forbidden his help in the preparation of the potion altogether and even the normally hyper-proficient Hermione was intimidated by his hawkish gaze now that she bore the full brunt of it, for he was minutely particular about the slight variations from the standard brewing of the potion.

"Excuse me for asking, Professor, but you've never actually used this variant on a horcrux before, have you?" she queried at last, her frustration strident even to her own ears.

"As they are not exactly an everyday occurrence and extremely difficult - not to say technically illegal - to come by, the answer to your question must be, as you already well know, no." Snape snapped.

"Then why, exactly, are you so confident it will work? Where did you come by the method? I've looked and looked for anything documented successfully and never seen anything along these lines."

"That would be why I am a Potions Master and you a student lacking even a N.E.W.T. qualification," Snape sneered. "My experience allows me to project and theorize with accuracy. I have successfully used this method on cursed objects of infused consciousness and it has also been effective with particularly recalcitrant boggarts and poltergeists that refuse to budge as well."

"If Hermione doesn't have a potions N.E.W.T., it's my fault, not hers," Harry snarled back, "And if your previous experience dancing his attendance hasn't already clued you in, I've been attacked by both and there's a pretty big difference between Voldemort and Peeves."

Snape made a long suffering sigh and silencio-ed Harry. Harry's eyes narrowed slightly and Snape's hair turned a bright Tonks-ish pink. The effect was so ghastly, and so truly, deeply funny, that Hermione was forced to turn away, shoulders shaking with laughter. Ever on the look out for emotional weakness to plunder in those around him Snape misconstrued her quivering for tears and began in on the uselessness of women who refused to rein in their hormones to further their study of magic.

Hermione had tears dripping from her eyes by the time she lifted them to Harry; she expected his silent fury to be pierced by a satisfied grin but found him gazing at her strangely intensely instead.

Oh, and women were the irrational ones.

Ron popped back in with the missing ingredients, took one look at Snape and dissolved into surprised laughter. Several seconds later he was a very surprised toad.

"Do you have any idea the..." Snape started, spinning around again towards Harry, but the action was enough for even his heavy hair to swing into his face and alert him to the source of Ron's amusement. He rolled his eyes and muttered a finite incantatum.

Nothing happened.

He sighed and pointed his wand upward.

Still pink.