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Vissa fics ska man bara inte läsa mitt i natten när alla andra ligger & sover. Som den här tex;


“Malfoy, you have forgotten to add the grated asphodel root,” said Snape, with his usual sneer.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Professor. The dried asphodel root really is quite beautiful, isn’t it?” said Malfoy cheerfully.

Snape paused, and stared at him. “It resembles a deformed potato…” said the Potions master, frowning slightly.

“Yes, well, potatoes are beautiful as well,” said Malfoy. “So is Hermione here,” he added, as an afterthought.

Suddenly I didn’t mind the curse so much. I couldn’t stop a small smile from creeping onto my face, and I ducked my head as a faint blush crossed my cheeks.

“And Harry, and Ron, and you, Professor, everyone here is beautiful, including Neville’s toad,” continued Malfoy blissfully.

The smile evaporated from my face in an instant. He’d actually said that Professor Snape—

Oh god. BAD mental images. Bad, baaad mental images—bad, horrible, awful mental images—

“Detention!” cried Snape suddenly. “You too, Granger!”

“What? What have I done?” I asked, startled.

"Out! Out of my classroom!” he yelled wildly, retreating to his desk and brandishing a textbook at us, as if to ward off the possibly infectious optimism.

As we left he sank into a chair, nursing his head in his hands and muttering something about desperately needing a Firewhiskey. Harry and Ron were having difficulty containing their snickers. I scowled at them as I steered Malfoy out of the door – they were going to pay for this.

“Isn’t it wonderful? We’ve got detention!” said Malfoy happily, skipping along the corridor like some sort of demented Hinkypunk.

“Where are you going?” I asked, worried about his health. I’d say that I was worried about his sanity, but frankly it was already obvious that he’d gone crazy…

“I’m going to go and pick some flowers for all the teachers!” he smiled, as if this was a perfectly normal thing to do when you’d been thrown out of a Potions class by an unhappy and unstable professor.

“What?! You’ll get soaked! It’s raining cats and dogs outside—” I protested.

He stopped, and wagged a finger at me. “Now, now, Hermione, that sort of negative thinking does absolutely nothing for your self-esteem, not to mention self-confidence! You have to think positive!”

I began to throttle the air in front of me, imagining that my hands were around Malfoy’s throat. It was oddly satisfying.




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