INVISIBLE STRING, marauders era

CHAPTER SEVEN - Snape Becomes a Gryffindor

- 1975 -

October 20th 75' : The Great Hall - fifth year

It wasn't hard getting Snape's hair. Nashira found Snape on his way to class, went up behind him and plucked a strand of his hair before falling back into the crowd of students. Snape ignored her, instead firing a string of unpleasant words to the unsuspecting 3rd year gryffindor who was unfortunate enough to be standing slightly too close to Snape. Nashira almost felt bad for the girl as she walked away, listening as the pair behind her began throwing curses at each other.

She stopped first at the first-floor bathrooms, carefully placing the strand of hair into her flask before scrubbing her hands until they were red. After using almost a full bar of soap, her hands still felt greasy. She made a note to suggest to Annabelle for her to use her permanent rain cloud idea on Snape instead, as she didn't doubt he was long overdue for a good shower.

She ended up making it to potions just in time, sliding into her usual seat at the back next to Annabelle.

"Did you get it?" Annabelle whispered as Nashira began unloading her books.

"Of course," She whispered back, passing Annabelle the flask from her pocket. "But don't look now, it's this disgusting, gluggy, black consistency. Pretty much a perfect resemblance of Snape. I don't think anything will be able to dilute the colour, and James is bound to notice if you try mixing it with his drink."

"Ew. I wouldn't be surprised if it floats to the top of his pumpkin juice like oil," Annabelle grimaced. "It's okay, I think we can still make it work. Maybe you can sit with us at lunch? That way you can distract him as I slip it into his drink."

Nashira laughed at the girl's words, looking over her shoulder to the boy in question. James sat with Sirius who was talking animatedly to him. James however was clearly not paying attention, instead charming the crane he had just folded to float towards the front of the class, or more specifically, towards a redhead in red robes.

"I think you would make a better distraction, but sure, it's probably better that way anyways," Nashira shrugged. "He's going to immediately suspect it's me and if he is watching me the whole time then he will be left with no reasonable ground to stand on."

"Good morning students," Slughorn greeted, cutting off any possible response Annabelle may of had. "I have reviewed your strengthening potion essays, and I must say, I am rather disappointed." Lily's hand shot up, drawing Slughorn's attention.

"Oh, only some of you. Lily my dear, yours was perfect." Lily gave a small smile, slowly dropping her hand. Nashira closed her eyes and tried not to bang her head against her desk. She rather liked Lily, but sometimes she wished she didn't share any classes with the girl. "Need I remind some of you that next June you will all be sitting a very important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions."

"So, for this reason I have decided to allocate a new seating arrangement that will be active for the remainder of this year." Slughorn was met with a chorus of complaints. "Please collect your belongings and move to your new seat when I call out your name. Marlene McKinnon and Peter Pettigrew."

"You've got to be kidding, not this again." Nashira groaned. He had done the very same thing for the past five years. For the first few weeks of the term, Slughorn would allow students to choose their own seating until randomly he decides to switch it up and pair those who are struggling with those who aren't. For three years in a row Slughorn's little arrangement had landed her next to Gregory Goyle, and she feared that if she was forced to do it again, she might kill someone.