Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Duck Duck Goose	By : MysticSong Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 14138 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: We do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. We do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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We recently noticed that the formatting of this story was quite atrocious. All sorts of symbols which were not in our original text. So, we decided to go through and painstakingly fix all of those. We will also be fixing any grammar, spelling, or content errors which we overlooked years ago when we first shared this story.
Happy reading (or re-reading!)
It was a typical Potions class. Gryffindors and Slytherins had been paired together yet again. Dumbledore always hoped that someone would get friendly with another house, but it had yet to happen. The only thing it seemed to incite was further house rivalry. Snape, ever favouring the Slytherins, did little to improve the caustic situation.

The Potions Master swooped around the classroom, praising Draco, the one Slytherin who had made it into his NEWTS classes, and criticizing the Gryffindors to no end. Today they were working on a variety of potions based on their skill level.

Hermione was working with Harry on Polyjuice Potion. Giving their experience with it in second year, they were breezing along nicely; with Hermione doing most of the actual potion and Harry simply prepping ingredients. Not to say that he hadn’t improved; he had gotten into NEWT level potions on his own merits, but Hermione knew what she was doing and could do it quickly. Unfortunately it wasn’t a potion that could be brewed in one day and they had to remember to shield it at the end of each lesson to prevent someone from altering it.

Draco was working on the Draught of Living Death by himself. It was a potion that Snape knew he would make well and since he did need his stores of it replenished, he admitted to himself it would be best to let the young man work alone.

Neville Longbottom, through some luck and sheer determination, was also in the class. Snape had working on the Wit-Sharpening potion and told him to be ready to test it on himself at the end of the lesson. It couldn’t hurt the boy to take it, and it was nearly impossible to ruin it.

Of course, Snape didn’t take into consideration that even by seventh year, despite making it into the highest potions class, Neville was still truly afraid of his professor, and the more he swooped around him, inspecting his work, the more nervous he became and the more likely he was to make a mistake.

One moment his potion was brewing nicely; the next moment, Snape swooped behind him on his way to inspect Hermione’s work, and slightly bumped Neville. This frightened the young man so much that he dropped his entire bottle of ingredient into the brew. Unfortunately it was bubotuber pus, not armadillo bile. While he had read the list correctly, he had grabbed the wrong vial when Draco jostled him in the storeroom. It reacted violently with the heretofore nicely simmering potion and simultaneously melted the cauldron and exploded across the room . . . into Hermione’s Polyjuice potion and Draco’s Draught of Living Death, completely coating his friend, and, much to his horror, his professor.

Harry and Draco had both missed being splattered by luck of having gone to the storeroom for additional ingredients. They returned to find a horrified Neville and an unconscious Hermione and professor.

Draco sighed and shook his head. Longbottom would never learn. He wasn’t actually bad at potions, but he’d have to overcome his ridiculous fear of people if he expected to get far in the real world. Knowing this didn’t stop him from taking a jab at the boy though. “Nice going, Longbottom! Now I’ll have to start over again and this was a potion that Professor Snape actually needed. Bet he won’t be too pleased to know you ruined a fine batch of the Draught of Living Death!”

Neville looked ready to cry at this point. Harry was no less pleased at having to re-start the Polyjuice potion, but he gave Draco a dirty look. “Leave him be, Malfoy. He was fine until your Head of House knocked into him!”

Draco shrugged and waved his wand over the still forms on the floor. Harry was instantly on the alert. “You better not hurt her!”

“Relax, you poof! It’s just a cleansing charm. Get the Headmaster unless you want to levitate both of them to the infirmary.”

Harry watched him suspiciously until they were both quite clean from the mess and then went to the classroom fireplace to floo-call Professor Dumbledore. Seconds later the wizard stepped through the fire into the classroom to inspect the results of Neville’s most recent explosion.

He sighed and sent Neville back to his common room to relax. He instructed Harry and Draco to clean up the laboratory manually, just in case anything they had been brewing reacted negatively to magic, and then gracefully levitated both student and professor, and drew them down the hallway to the infirmary.
Night fell, finding both student and professor still in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen for the moment. Snape groggily sat up, mentally cursing Longbottom once again as he realized he had been in here all day long. ‘Blast that boy!’ His head ached, no doubt from when he had slumped to the floor, and he thought longingly of his private rooms where he had several vials of headache draught ready for consumption. He started to get out of bed when a small ding sounded and Madam Pomfrey was at his side. ‘Bloody alert charms!’

He was taken aback, however, when the witch leaned down and patted his hand gently. “There, there dear, it will be alright. There doesn’t seem to be any bad side effects from Mr. Longbottom’s mistake, but Professor Dumbledore would like you to stay the evening just to be safe, love,” she twittered.

‘Love? What the bloody hell was she prattling on about? How dare she speak to him like he was a child?’ He snatched his hand away from the witch and lay back down, quite grumpily. Madam Pomfrey, assuming her patient was merely upset at being away from classes all day, smiled and gently closed the privacy drapes before checking on her other patient.

‘Great. The Medi-Witch treated me as if I was a student and I still have a head-ache. I think she even made it worse!’ Snape lifted a hand to his head to massage the sore spot. ‘What the? That isn’t my hair!’ Snape thought in alarm. He pulled a strand forward to examine it, to find himself looking at bushy, curly brown hair. ‘Uhmmm…’ was all he could muster. He took to examining the rest of his body. Small delicate hands, legs that were much too short . . . he looked down the front of his hospital gown . . . and screamed, “Bloody hell!”

Madam Pomfrey ducked her head back inside. “What’s wrong, love?”

Snape was too astonished by his self-examination to be overly concerned with this sudden term of endearment the witch kept bestowing on him. He pointed to his chest. “These are not supposed to be here!” he exclaimed. ‘What the hell was going on,’ Snape wondered. That wasn’t his voice either.

Madam Pomfrey frowned. ‘Oh dear,’ she thought, ‘Mayhap there were bad side effects to this potion.’ She’d have to talk to the Headmaster again. “Love,” she said to the girl, “you’ve had breasts since third year.”

In the other bed, Hermione was just coming around when she could have sworn she heard her own voice arguing with Madam Pomfrey. “Madam Pomfrey?” she croaked out.

The Medi-Witch turned and opened up the other set of drapes, deciding it would be easier than moving from bed to bed. “Yes, Severus?” she asked, a bit startled at his politeness.

Snape’s face went slack. “Severus?”

“It’s your name, dear,” the Medi-Witch said. “You do remember who you are, don’t you? You didn’t have a concussion. . . ”

“Of course I remember who I am,” snarled Severus, from Hermione’s bed. It didn’t sound quite the same in Hermione’s voice, but Madam Pomfrey still sat down, rather suddenly on the end of what she had believed was Severus’s bed. Student and professor looked at each other in horror as they realized what must have happened.

A few hours later, the three sat in the Headmaster’s office, trying to explain this unexpected situation. “We were all brewing different potions, sir, based on skill level,” Hermione told him, trying to get used to her professor’s much longer body. “Harry and I were brewing Polyjuice while Neville was working on the Wit-Sharpening Potion, but Draco and Professor Snape made him nervous and he ruined his potion.” Snape glared at her, but with Hermione’s face, it looked more pouting and made Albus’s eyes shine even brighter. “Well you did,” said Hermione to her professor, Snape’s voice sounding a bit petulant and whiny. Albus grinned. Poppy Pomfrey sighed. Hermione turned back to the Headmaster. “I don’t know what ingredients he switched, but when it exploded it landed in both the Polyjuice potion and Draco’s Draught of Living Death,” Hermione explained.

Albus steepled his fingers. “Well,” he began, “I believe it is best that we keep this between the four of us. Hermione, you will teach Potions, and you, Severus, will attend classes as Hermione. The three just stared at him. “I am sorry, my dear boy,” Albus said to Severus, “but I must insist. Hermione, you will take an apprentice – yourself and you and Severus will work together to uncover what exactly occurred with the potions and see if you can develop an antidote. There’s always the chance that it will reverse itself due to the nature of Polyjuice, but we cannot rely solely on that hope. Now, why don’t you head down to Severus’s lab and get to know each other. Severus,” Albus said, looking pointedly at him, “make sure Miss Granger knows how to get around the school as you do; she will need to be convincing but it will also serve as protection if she needs to speak to you suddenly should something go wrong. We can all be thankful she is the Head Girl and you won’t have to suffer any roommates!”

“Oh, yes, that is very reassuring, Albus,” he replied sarcastically.

Albus merely smiled. “Lemondrop?”
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