Dianthus Stories | By : icewomin Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 3127 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Anything you
recognize belongs to someone else, namely, JK Rowling. Specifically, elements of
the HP universe, characters from same.
Sadly, I have no hope of publishing this story outside the fan fiction base, although I hope you enjoy the plot and the original
characters I’ve created. Feel free to
give me critical feedback, including flames and harsh criticism. I may delete it afterward, so as to reduce my
personal embarrassment, but I do promise to read it and incorporate it if I
feel it improves the story.
*****
This is Chapter
Twenty One. Smut begins in Chapter
Twenty Six, so if you’re only looking for that, feel free to skip ahead. Be warned that you may be confused about some
of the stuff in those later chapters if you don’t stick it out.
*****
Chapter Twenty One
– If At First You Don’t Succeed
Martine was almost
as excited as Dianthus to go to Potions on Thursday. They were going to add the fringetree bark,
along with one unicorn tail hair and some spotted toadstools, to the potion. “I hope the whole thing doesn’t blow up,”
said Martine anxiously at lunch. “Do you
think we researched those interactions well enough?”
“For crying out
loud, you spent the entire fall in the fucking library,” snarled Erin. “Give it a rest, you did fine. And if not, well, Hogwarts newest superhero –
ouch, Di! – I mean, Potions teacher is there to save the day.”
Martine blatantly
ignored both Erin’s comments and Dianthus’ retaliatory
yank of Erin’s hair.
“And you let it simmer for an hour after we add the fringetree bark?”
“Yes, that’s
right,” said Dianthus. She was going
over the recipe in her head, as well.
“And then we add
the unicorn tail hair and the spotted toadstools.”
“Yes, that’s
right. And after that,
the miribilis.”
“And that’s when
it may blow up,” said Erin, “so we–” she gestured to
Melanie and herself, “will be very glad to be far, far away.”
“It’s not going to
blow up!” Dianthus snorted. “Before,
it’s just congealed and that’s that.”
“Yeah,” said Erin
knowledgeably, “but that was before you started messing around with it. Even Snape said it – it’s very
volatile.” She looked hopeful for an
explosion to break up the monotony of her afternoon in Muggle Studies.
Dianthus wasn’t
worried. She knew the potion was going
to work this time. She’d gone over the
calculations at least a hundred times.
When they arrived
in the dungeon, they found the classroom door already ajar. Snape had arrived, as had Jareth
Farrell and Jenny White, and the two students were milling about, chatting
merrily as they unpacked their bags.
Snape sat behind his desk, grading essays with a decidedly listless air,
but he rose immediately when Dianthus and Martine walked in. He didn’t smile, but Dianthus saw a gleam in
his eyes that told her he was just as interested as they were in the day’s
outcome.
When the class had
assembled, Snape immediately set them to work.
“Supplies are in the store room,” he barked. The students scrambled to the cupboard and
grabbed their baskets. Dianthus snatched
up her basket and noted with some interest that most of her ingredients were
already prepared: the fringetree bark
was clipped into one-inch slivers, the toadstools were meticulously diced, a single honey colored unicorn tail-hair was neatly wrapped
in wax paper. Only the miribilis had yet
to be chopped. She smirked at Snape on
the way back to her table. He gave her a
disdainful look.
Dianthus set her
basket on the table and walked quickly back to the instructor’s desk. Snape looked at her warily. She stood at attention and barked, “Permission
to ask a question, Professor Snape, sir.”
She was staring straight ahead of her, at the blackboard above Snape’s
head, and had to resist the urge to snap her heels together and salute.
He snorted,
“Please ask your question, Miss Brandywine, but note that I am sitting directly
in front of you. There is no need to
shout.”
“Yes, sir,
Professor Snasir,sir,” she said, lowering her voice only slightly. “Evariste and I
would like to ask permission for her to assist me with my potion today, sir,
rather than brewing her own. She is
researching an ingredient vital to the success of my potion, and we both feel
her work would benefit from viewing the interaction of fringetree bark with the
other elements of my recipe, sir.”
Dianthus had
suggested to Melanie that they seek Snape’s permission to combine their efforts
for this class only. Martine was brewing
a much simpler recipe, to demonstrate the usefulness of fringetree bark in
healing potions. In fact, she’d been
making variations of the same concoction since Christmas. “I’m quite fluent in fringetree bark,”
Dianthus had heard her saying to Kevin Merrigold one
evening in the great hall. He had looked
extremely mystified.
From the bottom of
her peripheral vision, Dianthus saw Snape glaring at her in vexation. She didn’t move, but he rose and walked
slowly around his desk. He leaned back
against the edge of it and crossed his arms.
“Have you recently joined the military, Miss Brandywine?” he sighed,
looking up the ceiling.
“No, sir,” she
said, quietly. “But this is rather
important to me, and I want to be sure I have your attention.>
>
“Then put yourself
at ease, Miss Brandywine. You have my
complete attention. Yes, Miss Evariste may join you at your cauldron today. Miss Evariste,” he
called. Martine looked up from her
basket, where she’d been rearranging her ingredients, stalling for time. “Please put your supplies away and assist
Miss Brandywine for this period. I will
expect twelve inches on Tuesday, outlining your reflections on the interactions
of the ingredients, and whether fringetree bark was a judicious choice to
include in this recipe.”
Dianthus said,
“Thank you, sir,” and hurried back to her desk to high five Martine. The two girls carefully carried her cauldron
from the climate controlled cupboard next to the store room and set it on the
table. Then Dianthus handed Martine the
plate of fringetree bark and said, “You do the honors.”
Martine
glowed. She took the plate and
painstakingly dribbled the fringetree bark into the cauldron as Dianthus
stirred the gelatinous ooze inside.
“Does it need more swamp water?” Martine asked, as Dianthus dragged a
wooden spoon through the jelly-like substance.
“Not until we add
the unicorn tail-hair,” breathed Dianthus.
She could feel the bark softening as she pressed the pieces against the
edge of the cauldron. “Turn down that
flame a bit, will you, Martine?” she said, as the brown sludge belched
once. “That’s better, thanks.”
Once bae bark was
completely dissolved, Dianthus took note of the time, and she and Martine began
writing down their observations. “It
didn’t smoke at all, and that’s a good sign, don’t you think?” whispered
Martine as she wrote. Dianthus nodded. “Do you think the size of the pieces will
have any effect on the timing for the other ingredients?”
“I would say that
they would not,” said Snape’s voice from behind them. Dianthus and Martine both jumped. “As fringetree bark is a soft wood in any
case, the size of the pieces is merely for the convenience of the
potion-maker.”
“Yes, sir, I was
just about to say the very same, sir,” said Dianthun thn the smarmiest voice
she could muster, looking at him earnestly.
He raised his
eyebrows at her. “Are you deliberately
testing my patience, Miss Brandywine? Or
have you perhaps just come from the Astronomy
Tower?” Melanie choked a little, but Dianthus was not
at all impressed with his efforts.
“No, sir,” she
said, smiling sweetly. “I simply have a
passion for potions, sir.”
“I will be back to
check your progress shortly,” he sneered, and walked away.
“A
‘passion for potions’?” Martine asked, looking at Dianthus
dubiously. “You simply have a passion
for potions? What the fuck was that all
about?”
“I am in a
fabulous mood, Martine,” crowed Dianthus.
“I think we’re finally getting somewhere – look!” The potion was slowly lightening. “By the end of the hour, if it’s a dark tan
color, we’re in business.” She h
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