Ginny and Draco were mortal enemies. Their friends were enemies, their families were enemies, so, naturally, they were too. They took it for granted that they would always loathe each other – that is, until one weird and wacky event changed everything.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Nothing. Nada, zip, zilch.
Ginny walked down the hall briskly, smiling broadly at everything and everyone in her path and looking like an utter lunatic. She had heard from Hermione once that smiling released endorphins (A/N – chemicals or hormones or something that makes you feel happy), and since she was feeling miserable right now, she could use all the happiness she could get. Ginny actually hadn't had that bad a day, but she felt miserable because she was immensely bored. B-O-R-E-D. Same thing day in, and day out. Same schedule, same people, same place, same food. There must be something better out there!
Ginny was so wrapped up in her misery that she missed the fact that she was about to go down a staircase, and nearly lost her footing. A group of first-year Ravenclaw girls brushed by her, knocking her rudely to the side.
"They have the hearts of Slytherins," Ginny thought.
Ginny looked down at the floor glumly, watching people's feet move by. She noticed scorch marks on the floor. They made her think of the time that Hagrid had tried to raise a baby dragon that he had named Norbert. Oh, Hagrid – with him it was one deadly dangerous illegal animal after another.
A little Gryffindor girl stood huddled by the wall of the staircase landing, sneezing up a storm. All the other students flowed past her, leaving plenty of distance between the girl and themselves. All Ginny could assume was that they were afraid of germs or something. Out of pity, Ginny headed towards her.
"Would you like a hanky or something? I can take you to the hospital wing if you need to go there?" Ginny offered kindly.
"ACHOO! No – ACHOO! Get away – ACHOO! – from me," the girl cried, shooing Ginny away.
Ginny was about to retort huffily when she realized that each time the girl sneezed, a small flicker of flame shot out. She was about to back away, when another student behind her began to sneeze as well. Ginny froze, trying to avoid the cross-fire, but was unable to completely leave. Instead, she settled for huddling on the ground, hands covering her head. What Ginny failed to realize was that when you sneeze – you aim down.
Consequently, when the little Gryffindor sneezed her largest sneeze yet, a sizable fireball shot past Ginny's head. The very edge of one of her braids caught on fire, and a nasty stench filled the air.
"Oh!" Ginny half-shouted, not knowing what to do. Finally she dumped her Bubbling Blueberry soda over her head. Luckily there wasn't much damage to her hair, because of her (semi) quick thinking. (Hermione must have been rubbing off on her.)
"Miss Warrington!" Professor McGonagall cried, swooping down on the sneezing students. She quickly took in the problem, and transfigured her pencils into two goblets of water, and directly both students to sneeze directly into them. "What has come over you two! Come, I'll escort you both to the clinic."
"Ummm…Professor?" Ginny put in, questioning meekly. "What about me?"
Professor McGonagall appraised Ginny swiftly, taking in her dripping blue head and the scorch marks on her robes. (A/N – Does anyone know why it's robes if it's a singular term? Sorry, I'm just a grammar freak (read my bio))
"Go to the lavatory and clean up. I'm sure your professor will understand." And, with that, she swept the fire-breathing girl away.
"Professor! I have Snape next!" Ginny called helplessly after McGonagall.
"Oh, great, just my luck," Ginny muttered en-route the way to the bathroom. She was on the second floor, and would be late anyways, so if she had to face Snape's wrath anyway, at least she would be clean at her burial. It took her about three minutes worth of rinsing to fully remove the soda from her hair.
Critically examining herself in the mirror, Ginny realized she had dark splotches all over her robes where she had splashed water on herself in an attempt to remove the sticky soda.
"Ah, well," Ginny thought airily. "It'll be dry once I get there."
She plodded down the stairs slowly…in no rush to get to class. Unfortunately, even if you go at the speed of an old lady lugging her oxygen around, eventually, stairs have to run out. Ginny took a deep breath, and then opened the door.
"And so, verituserum –" Snape was saying as she came in, but cut himself off to yell at Ginny. "Miss. Weasley! You are exactly ten minutes late to my class!" Snape said.
"I'm sorry professor, but a little girl was sneezing fire balls and Professor McGonagall said you'd understand and –"
"Silence!" Snape roared. "Sixty points from Gryffindor!"
"Sixty points!" Ginny protested, knowing it was to no avail. She strode angrily towards her desk, ignoring the glares from the Gryffindors and the smirks from the Slytherins.
"Now, as I was saying," Snape began. "Verituserum is a potion capable of making anyone answer questions truthfully; however it can only be administered when the recipient is knocked out or otherwise unprepared for it. If the recipient knows what you are doing, then they could pretend to drink it and then act as if they are under the potion's influence. So today will shall be making it and then testing it. I will do an example for you. Miss. Weasley," Snape snarled. "Come up here."
Ginny, just sitting down, stood up again and walked up to the front of the class. Her fingers clenched and unclenched in her robes, knowing that whatever happened was not going to be pretty.
"As I said before, the person might cheat, so in this case we will simply take away 150 points if we catch her cheating, and ask her hard to evade questions." Snape said, spurring mass peer pressure from the Gryffindors in the room.
Snape held up the vial of verituserum, and then he dropped it on the ground. It smashed to pieces at his feet, but oddly enough, the professor ignored it.
He clambered up on to his desk, and shouted, "Howdy, ya'll!" The Gryffindors giggled nervously, while the Slytherins sat dumbfounded.
"My name's rightly Bob Hickam," Snape shouted with a thick southern accent. "An' I wanta introduce ya'll to Mr. Smith." He pulled up his robes smiling, as he showed his sickeningly white legs.
He hiked his robes up around his waist, and revealed his boxers. But these were no ordinary boxers, no, no. They were bright pink and were dotted when purple and red hearts that, upon further examination, read I love McGonagall.
"Ya'll," Snape shouted amidst titters, as the students had figured out that the professor was not himself. "Ya'll," he repeated, "meet Mr. Smith. My most favoritest pair of boxers. I wear 'em every day, an' never wash 'em, 'cause Mr. Smith don't like no washin'."
The students groaned in disgust simultaneously. Snape seemed to return to himself again. He gaped at the class, slackjawed. Then he looked down at himself, stunned. He quickly dropped his robes (to Ginny's great relief - his legs were grossing her out) and hopped down off of the desk.
"That never happened," Snape managed to say. "Never, you hear me! NEVER!" he shouted, his voice reaching a demonic crescendo. "If I hear one word about this, I swear, I will track that student down and they will wish they were dead. Now, out! Out of my classroom!" he howled crazily at the stunned students. "OUT!" he bellowed, as students tripped over each other to escape.
Ginny left, too. She had an Herbology assignment she needed to do before next class and an insane teacher with nauseating white legs to escape. One thing was for sure. That was a story to pass down to her grandchildren!
So? Good story! Come on you know you want to say yes and then hit the pretty purple button down there to REVIEW! I will keep writing this story, because this is NOT a one-shot. Sorry if it's a bit fast, paced, but it'll get better! I promise!