Gotta Snake Problem?

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"Get away from me you giant toad!"

Harry blinked. The words cut through the thick silence of the potions class like a knife through flubberworm - unexpected and sharp. He raised his head from the beetle-eyes he was delicately grinding into powder and looked around the classroom to see who dared disrupt the fragile silence of Snape's classroom. He saw only everyone else hard at work and, to his dismay, several were already steps ahead of him, working to bring up their cauldrons to the appropriate scalding temperature. A glance to the front of the classroom reveal Snape at his desk grading papers with an expression of pure distain on his features. Harry returned to his beetle-eyes with a frown. If it had been him breaking the silence like that Snape would have been on his case as fast as a -

He forced himself to forget it. He finished crushing the beetle-eyes and moved onto peeling the outer layers of an aged onion that had been picked for three months in bat saliva. It was surprisingly hard for something covered in bat spit and Harry struggled to pry the layers off, wishing that they were working in groups so that he could at least ask Hermione for tips. The bushy haired girl always figured out the quickest way of dealing with stubborn ingredient.

With that finally done, Harry turned up the heat on his shimmering cauldron, careful to keep the temperature of the goo green inside just right so that it didn't bubble over, and reached down to add the onion peels. He was just taking his large glass spoon to give the potion a stir when a high pitched scream erupted through the classroom. Harry turned with the rest of the class to see Goyle doubled over, clutching his right hand and blubbering.

"It bit me! The bloody thing bit me!"

Harry couldn't see what Goyle was talking about and before he could stand up to get a better look, Snape swooped down in a billow of black robes.

"Turn down your potions immediately. I will not tolerate a third explosion this month."

Harry jumped and hurried to comply, not wanting to be the one to blow up the classroom and have Snape berating him on his dismal potion making skills any more than usual. To be fair, Harry hadn't blown up a cauldron since third year, a full two years ago. He didn't think it was fair for Snape to constantly bring his failures up when people like Crabbe and Goyle had to have the potions saved from intermit disaster everyother class.

With his potion secure, Harry looked back at the scene. Snape was scowling over Goyle's hand with a furious expression which, even directed away from him, made Harry gulp.

"Has your stupidity gone so far, Mr. Goyle that you thought it a good idea to bring a poisonous snake into my potions class!"

Goyle's face was ashen. He held up his hand which was quickly turning green and swelling to the size of a small melon. "No, sir. My hand, sir. It bit me, sir."

"So I gathered from that ridiculous squeal you let out earlier," sneered Snape. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes in exasperation. Waving his hand he muttered, "Mrs. Parkison, escort Mr. Goyle to the infirmary. Mr. Goyle, you have detention with Filch for the rest of the week."

Goyle gaped and Harry's jaw dropped. Snape never gave Slytherins detentions. Ever. Even when Harry and Malfoy had a near duel in the hallway right outside his classroom the most he had ever seen the man do was take two measly points off.

Harry quickly closed his mouth as Snape dropped his hand and drew himself up.

"Mr. Crabbe, where is the snake now?" he asked exasperated.

Crabbe, a near replica of Goyle only two ounces duller, shrugged uselessly. "I dunno, Professor. Greg dropped him after he got bit. Sort of just slithered off."