The Other Potter Book Two

Chapter Seven: Voices, Potions and Other Weird Things

“Give him hell,” Ron told me as I left for my detention. Snape had given Ron a pretty severe lecture in class the day before, and Ron wasn’t over it yet. I was going to try, despite having four hours sleep (I’d stayed up to finish my History of Magic essay that I had kept putting off). Besides, if I annoy Snape now, he mightn’t give me detention in the future ... maybe.

I walked right into Snape’s classroom with a spring in my step, and humming the tune to ‘Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows’. I gave him a bright toothy smile.

“Hello sir, how will I be serving my detention today?”

Sneering in return, Snape said, “Cleaning out the cupboards and rearranging things in alphabetical order. Without magic.” he added.

“Wonderful!” I beamed. It was probably better that I wasn’t using magic; I might have blown up the classroom. Sometimes my magic was amazing and beyond my years, but at other times it seemed as though it was the first time I’d picked up a wand.

 Snape was pissed off at my cheeriness. So was I, to be honest.

It seemed like forever that I had spent stacking things up. With a massive yawn I sat down on a chair. My head was pounding from all of the random strong smells from ingredients. It’s like when you spend too long sniffing perfumes that your brain melts.

“Why are you sitting down?” Snape questioned

“Because I’ve got a headache.”

“Think about that next time you laugh all lesson,” he snapped. “Get up.”

“I finished!”

“Did you do the potions cupboard?”

“No,” I said glumly.

“Well, do it then. I don’t have much patience.” He added as I didn’t move.

I held back a retort and dragged myself off the chair to do it. I had moved a few potions around when I heard a really cold and evil voice; a voice of death —

“Come ... come to me.... Let me rip you.... Let me tear you.... Let me kill you ..."

I shuddered and dropped the potion I was holding. Some of it poured on my arm before it shattered over the floor, where it bubbled furiously, sending the shards of glass flying in all directions. The fumes from the potion blew up in my face and threatened to choke me. I felt Snape push me away.

“Stupid girl!” He shouted, clearing the mess up. “Are you alright?” he said more calmly as I coughed and spluttered.

I gasped, and he pushed a chair under me. My arm felt as though it was on fire, my legs were cut up from the glass, my shoes were shredded, I could hardly breathe and my head was still pounding. The shoes seem less important than the fact that I can’t breathe, but they were the shoes I married, and I wanted to cry.

“I shouldn’t have had you moving those potions – highly dangerous” he said more to himself than to me.

“Did you hear the voice?” I asked him, wheezing. He looked at me puzzled. He spoke but I wasn’t listening.  I strained my ears to hear the voice again, but there was no sound now. “It’s going to kill someone!” I started to gasp for air. I couldn’t breathe.

“Willow, I’m going to take you to the hospital wing, okay?” he informed me, and I became aware of the fact that I was lying on the floor. But the floor was moving.

There were bugs all over me, and there were talking chairs and tables. Someone started screaming, and it could have been me. I was flying.

I think I went to sleep then.