The class soon arrived back at the castle and spent the next 15 minutes of break attempting to warm their frozen extremities.

“I’m really going to start not liking Professor Lupin if he keeps taking us outside in this weather,” sniffed Ron grumpily as he, Harry and Hermione made their way down into the dungeons.  “Damn! It’s almost as cold down here as it is outside!” Ron continued to complain.

“Ron, will you stop whining,” Hermione huffed as they arrived at the door to the dungeons.  Most of the other Seventh year Gryffindor and Slytherins had already assembled and were standing around shivering and talking in low, nervous voices.

“Don’t know why I didn’t dive up Potions,” Ron mumbled, “Don’t know what I was thinking.”  

“You were thinking you wanted to be an Auror,” Hermione reminded him.  Ron huffed grumpily but said no more.

“Had a tiff with your little strumpet, Weasley?” The voice of Draco Malfoy cut through the mass of gathered students.  Ron looked incensed and shot back;

“At least I’ve got one.”  Hermione was none too pleased at being called a ‘strumpet’, but in the ongoing war against Malfoy, she decided it was all for the greater good and kept quiet, content with looking murderously at the back of Ron’s neck.

“Ha!” Malfoy laughed, closing in on the three friends, “I’d rather have no one than an ugly mudblood like her!”

“You know you really are very boring, Malfoy.  Can’t you ever think of another insult,” Hermione replied lazily.  Malfoy was about to deal out some threats when the bell rang.  The class filtered quickly into the dungeon to come face-to-face with a more-than-usually annoyed Professor Snape.

“Sit down.  Shut up,” he ordered, “Today we will be making a calming potion.  It can be used in the following variations…” 

  As Professor Snape reeled off a very long list of uses and concoctions, Ron dozed (surreptitiously of course; you didn’t want to get caught by Snape sleeping in his class.  Harry thought Ron was unwise to even tempt his wrath), Hermione was scribbling furiously and Harry, pencil in hand, was watching Draco Malfoy across the room.  The boy seemed to be hitting something in his trouser pocket.  Then, to Harry’s surprise, the Slytherin put his hand up.  The room grew tense as the class waited in stilled silence.  It was a brave soul who asked a question in Potions class whilst Snape was in lecture mode.  The Potions Master stopped in front of Malfoy and eyed him suspiciously.  Malfoy flinched, but it was too late to back out now;

  “Err…Professor…is this a potion that those mushrooms in the Dark Forest can be added to?”  Snape surveyed the boy for a second.

  “Yes. You can add them to almost any potion,” he answered cautiously, “I presume Professor Lupin introduced you to their kind.”

  “Yes. He did. I was wondering what would happen if you added them to this potion?” Malfoy asked.  Suspicious almost to excess, thought both Harry Potter and Severus Snape.

  “The resulting gas from the mixture would be, well, appropriate to the tone of this day, shall we say,” Snape replied, “But I would caution against using those mushrooms. They are devious, and there are always consequences when you use them,” he paused briefly, studying Malfoy’s reaction.  As there was none, he continued;

  “Now, if there are no more questions we shall continue. The instructions and ingredients are listed on the blackboard. You have twenty minutes. Begin.” With that the class erupted into activity as the students attempted to complete their task without (a) receiving a detention, (b) losing house points, or (c) dying painfully at the hands of Severus Snape.

  “I wonder what that was all about with Malfoy,” Hermione whispered to Harry and Ron as she lit the fire beneath her cauldron.

  “Dunno. Very suspicious though. Bet he’s up to something,” Harry replied, “Yuk. This smells disgusting.” He looked distastefully at the dried pig snout he was supposed to be chopping up.  Hermione ignored the last comment;

  “We should keep an eye on him. I don’t trust him,” she said.

  “Who does?” Ron added dryly.

  The proceeding twenty minutes passed swiftly in a daze of lost house points (from Griffindor), evil stares (from Snape) and a string of small explosions (from Neville Longbottom’s cauldron).  One particularly vicious eruption caused a plume of noxious smoke to evolve from the potion causing three nearby students to pass out.  Professor Snape quickly roused them with an invigorating potion then gave Neville a detention for carelessness.  It was at this point that Harry noticed Malfoy looking frantically under his bench.

  “Lost something, Malfoy?” Harry asked casually.  Malfoy stood up and looked him straight in the eye.

  “No, Potter, of course not,” he spat, though his voice didn’t sound as convincing as his words.  The Slytherin went back to stirring his cauldron.  Returning to his own bench Harry whispered to Hermione;

  “He’s definitely lost something.”  Hermione nodded, having also noticed Malfoy’s behaviour. 

  “Hope it was something important,” Ron said scathingly.  Harry got the feeling that whatever was going on would not end well.  Then his thoughts were interrupted by Snape’s angry voice announcing the end of the class.