Emotion Armour
a Harry Potter story
by DojiGirl
Harry stared with increasing uncertainty at the bubbling cauldron located, unfortunately, directly under Neville's unsteady fingers. Harry wasn't the best at Potions, and he'd be the first to admit it, but it didn't take a genius to realize that something was going terribly wrong with Neville's potion.
"Neville, what's happening?" He whispered urgently. Harry had felt a little nervous as the foaming concoction began to rise menacingly to the top of the cauldron (they'd only been given enough ingredients to make a small flask of Smoothing Serum; Neville now appeared to have enough to fill several large bottles) but now, as the liquid began to change color rapidly, Harry's uncertainty was turning into full-blown panic. Neville glanced miserably in Harry's direction, his mouth opening just a crack as he began to whisper back, but suddenly his eyes widened in fear at something he saw behind Harry, and he clamped his mouth shut so tightly he bit into his lip. Harry didn't have to turn to know what had frightened Neville; he felt rather than saw the menacing form of Snape pass by him, doing his usual sneering evaluation of the class. And of course, there was no student Snape enjoyed "evaluating" more than Harry. Well...Neville was a close second.
Harry rapidly focused back onto his own cauldron, not wanting to give Snape any reason to single him out as he passed by. For a second, he was sure that Snape had paused behind his desk; but in the next instant, he saw that Snape had made his way to the front of the class and was praising Malfoy for his superior handiwork. When he was certain the coast was clear, he shot a 'can-you-believe- that?' glance at Ron and Hermione. They both looked back pityingly. Ron returned his attention to his cauldron, and Hermione was about to do the same, but Harry stopped her short.
"Hermione! Can you help Neville out?" He whispered as loud as he dared, hoping that Snape hadn't heard him...
"What's the problem?" She hissed. Neville was directly behind her; she hadn't yet noticed the peril that she was in.
"Look at his cauldron and YOU tell ME!" Harry hissed back. With a sigh, Hermione turned in her seat to ask Neville what he'd done; instead, she found herself trying not to scream in sheer horror.
The cauldron's contents were now changing color so rapidly it looked like a rainbow had somehow melted into the pot; the foam was so high that Neville's head could no longer be seen; and there was an odd smell filling the room, sickly sweet and pungent...
Harry was staring in slack-jawed amazement at the cauldron now. He dared a glance at Snape, who was still speaking with Malfoy and seemingly oblivious to the disaster that was about to occur. Whatever Neville had done, it was about to pop...
Hermione got ahold of herself as quickly as she could, and waving the cauldron's smoke from her face, she attempted to give Neville some direction.
"Neville! Neville, listen to me! Use Merlin's Beard! It'll calm the potion---Neville, are you listening?"
Other students were beginning to notice the smell as the smoke lazily filled the room. They turned in their seats, mildly curious, only to stare in wonder at the scene unfolding before their eyes. "Neville!! No, no, I said Merlin's Beard, not Sterling Tear--oh, no!" Hermione slapped her hands over her eyes, shielding them as the potion suddenly belched a great plume of purple-colored smoke directly at the ceiling. Neville moaned simultaneously, not bothering to be quiet as terror filled his voice.
The class, on the other hand, was deathly quiet.
Hermione waited a few moments, then slowly, cautiously, cracked her fingers open and peered through them. The entire class was now staring at the monstrosity that was Neville's concoction.
Snape was no longer beside Malfoy, who, for the record, was shaking with barely-contained laughter; rather, Snape had made his way almost instantaneously to the back of the classroom. He now stood directly beside Neville's desk, leering downward at the cauldron and the student with equal disgust.
Harry winced as Neville moaned again.
Snape's eyes glittered, filled with equal parts contempt and jeering superiority. Harry could practically hear Snape's mind working fervently, trying to come up with some brand-new, scathing insults for poor Neville...
And sure enough, a second later Snape's cold voice poured over the classroom.
"Well, well, what's this? Completely botching a simple Smoothing Serum. Idiocy that I marvel at, Longbottom. Incompetence that knows no bounds. Why, this is tale worthy of Harry Potter!" Snape shot the last two words out as though they were bitter, but his expression was one of malicious glee. Neville sank low into his seat, trying to hide beneath the still-smoking cauldron...
Malfoy was ecstatic. Ron and Hermione were disgusted.
Harry, however, just rolled his eyes...and that was when he noticed it. The purple smoke that Neville's potion had belched out was now wafting slowly downward, almost sparkling as it descended, looking as though it was made entirely of tiny diamond specks of dust... And it was starting to land directly on Snape's head.
"No marks, Longbottom." Snape continued, blissfully unaware of the purple shower that was slowly but surely engulfing him. "No marks, and I want two essays for next lesson." Harry watched as Snape waved his wand almost carelessly at Neville's cauldron, and the remaining concoction disappeared instantly...but the purple rain above Snape continued. "One, on why you YET AGAIN went wrong, and two..." Snape stopped suddenly. His nose twitched; once, twice...then it was gone. He regained his compsure and continued.
"Two, you will write on why..." He paused. "...why..." He stopped. His nose twitched again, and suddenly he turned his head and sneezed violently into his hands, stifling it as best he could. Once. Twice. Three times. Each one was successively more powerful, and harder to hold in...
Everyone was silent; they were surprised and unsure at this turn of events. The only sound in the room was that of Snape's sneezes: "Ha..MMPH!" Four. "HA-MPP!" Five.
Then, a deep breath---and---
"HA-ASCH!!" A forceful sneeze, one that he couldn't hold in, so powerful that his body doubled over from it. He paused, sniffed cautiously--and then he straighted up immediately, his glaring eyes sweeping the classroom as though daring anyone to bless him--and them resting on Neville with a renewed ferocity.
Neville sank even lower into his seat.
Malfoy looked concerned, and even Ron and Hermione looked uncomfortable at Snape's outburst. But Harry had to bite his lip from bursting into a gleeful smile. Because he had seen something that the other's hadn't--that last deep breath Snape had taken. When he'd inhaled every...last...bit of the purple smoke.
Neville hadn't made a Smoothing Serum; rather, he'd made the very finest Sneezing Powder Harry had ever seen. Worthy of the Weasley Brother's practical joke shop, even! Harry made a mental note: Buy Neville a stack of Chocolate Frogs to thank him.
Snape was attempting to speak again, to continue his fearsome sentence on Neville, but was having increasing difficulty, as he fought to keep from sneezing---and failed. Miserably.
"And, as I was saying Longbottom you---y---you must--" Snape rubbed his nose furiously, "m-must...write...ah--on.." Snape's finger flew beneath his nose, pressing furiously, "what a--a--" Snape's other hand flew to his face, and he met it on the way down, as he sneezed helplessly. "AH-CCHESH! HA-ESCH! HA-CH!! HA-CHSH!"
Harry made another mental note: Make that TWO stacks of Chocolate Frogs.
Again, the room was silent except for Snape's attack. He fought, unsuccessfully, through another round of sneezes--"HA-MMP!" Only one stifle this time, as the rest were too violent to contain: "HA-CHH! HA-ESCHH!" And Harry kept count. "HA-ENSCH!" Twenty. "HAA-AH-ESCH!" Twenty-one--and so on.
Snape was a sight to see. The usually composed, cold and distant man was now helplessly caught in his fit, his silky black hair falling raggedly around his face with each sneeze, his eyes watering slightly. And there seemed nothing he could do to stop it; his wand was clutched tightly in his palm, but each time he raised it as though to cast something on himself, he'd sneeze and have to start all over.
Somewhere around sneeze thirty-five, Malfoy raised his hand hesitantly.
"S-sir? P-perhaps you're having an allergic reaction to Longbottom's potion...if you could dispell it, you would be fine..." Neville looked ready to sink through the floor.
Snape turned his watering eyes to Malfoy, and held his breath, physically fighting the urge to sneeze...
"...I--I know th-that you...fool.." he snarled back at Draco. Malfoy blinked in complete shock---Snape had never spoken to him like that...
Harry, on the other hand, was beaming in pure joy.
Snape continued, holding up his wand. "Wh--"ACH-CHSH!"-what do you- "CHSH!"--think I've been t--ah--trying to d-d--"AH-SCH!"-do?" Hermione, who had been as silent as everyone else, upon hearing a question from a Professor, jumped back into life. Her hand shot into the air and, without waiting for him to call on her, immediately recited a proper answer.
"You've obviously been trying to cast some sort of cancelling agent, such as an Anti-Magic incantation or an Emotion Armour shield. However, your, um, condition is rendering that impossible. That, of course, is one of the many downfalls of voice-activated incantations."
The rest of the class stared at her in complete and utter befuddlement. Snape looked as though he would like nothing more than to strangle the life out of her.
Instead, he sneezed.
"AH-CHESSH!!"
Harry had lost count by now. He guessed it was somewhere in the range of fifty sneezes. He wondered when Snape would swallow his pride and ask for help--after all, Hermione could probably cast the Anti-Magic or Emotion Armour spell easily, and Snape knew it. Instead, he continued to try and cast the spells on himself, believing that his willpower alone could take control of the situation.
Wrong.
"..Exx...expelli...expllia--A-ACHHCH! A-CHSHH!" Fifty-two sneezes.
Snape tried once more.
"..expel...exp--pp-p--ACHH!!"
Fifty-three.
Snape surrendered.
He turned to Malfoy again. "D--Draco...f-fetch me...Ha-SHH!...the b-bottle--AH-CHH!--under my desk...m-ma-ah--marked with--A-CH!--a blue Healing--A-CHESHH!--rune." Harry noted idly that his voice was just as menacing and chilly as always, even when asking for help. He knew Snape had to be incredibly miserable; to be weak in front of others (his own students, especially) was the worst punishment possible for him. Harry watched as he wiped the tears from his eyes, and rubbed his long nose wearily with his black cape. A part of Harry did feel bad...
"HA-ESCH!..h-hurry up Malf-foy...Ah-CHESH!..d-don't b-be ah--CH!--as inccompet-ah-ent as L-longb-b-ACHHH!!-bottom!"
...but only a part.
And that part was almost non-existant a moment later when, emerging triumphantly from the back of Snape's desk with the curing potion held high, Malfoy suddenly tripped...
...and the potion flew delicately, beautifully, speedily toward the hard stone floor, and within seconds had shattered with spectacular abandon across the ground.
Silence reigned supreme.
Well, silence except for...
"N--No! Y--You--y--AH-CHISSH!!!"
Sixty-two sneezes.
And as if on cue, the bell suddenly mingled with Snape's sneeze. The end of class.
The students all rushed to leave, broken out of their stunned trance by the bell. Neville had never moved so quickly in his entire life; he was gone before it had even finished ringing. And the others students followed suit; no one bothered to ask Snape if that was ok, or if there was any homework (except for Hermione, but Snape couldn't answer her in an understandable manner). And no one finished their in-class project (again, except for Hermione, who bottled it and placed it neatly on Snape's desk, while he continued sneezing helplessly at the back of the class). Ron just rolled his eyes at her.
Malfoy was apologizing profusely to Snape, and now half-ran, half- stumbled out of the classroom, searching for another professor to help Snape.
Harry was the last to leave. And he did feel bad, really he DID, but he just couldn't help himself, couldn't stop himself from saying one thing to Snape as he wiped more tears out of his watering eyes... "Really, Professor Snape, there's no use crying over spilt potion!" And as Harry hurried past him toward Ron and Hermione, a smirk upon his face, Snape opened his mouth in a snarl--- and sneezed.
---THE END---