Disclaimer: I don't own them
A/N: This takes place in the trio's sixth year at Hogwarts. This story has been moved over from ff.net with some minor revisions- Hope you like!! Please review!!
"You're wrong!" Harry whispered, at this point totally frustrated with his best friend.
"I am not!" Ron bickered back, trying to keep his voice down. "Were you even paying attention? Snape's nose is definitely bigger today than it was last week!"
Hermione giggled as she sprinkled the final ingredient into her potion. Once it sat for five minutes she would be done. She looked up to see that Snape was inspecting Malfoy's potion across the room; there's no way he could have heard her friend's exchange. With her task near completion, she sat down and turned her attention back to her friends.
"Well, we'll never know for sure now will we?" Harry asked, matter-of-factly. Ron's eyes immediately lit up and a mischievous smirk appeared on his face.
"What do you say we con some first-year into sneaking up on Snape while he's sleeping and measure his nose…" Hermione smacked her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing too loud.
"Then," Ron continued, "he could return next week and see if it grew!" Hermione shook her head and gazed adoringly at her friends. They were awful. Never paying attention; always breaking the rules. But she loved him… Merlin help her, she loved them. Her thoughts were interrupted however, when another of her senses kicked in.
"What's that fowl smell?" She asked. Harry and Ron put their argument on hold.
"That's awful!" Ron exclaimed.
The trio looked behind Hermione to see Neville with his hand over his nose and a large amount of steam coming out of this cauldron. Neville added more ingredients, attempting to settle the mixture. Instead, he only seemed to anger it- causing it double in size. Without a word, Ron, still staring at Neville's cauldron, reached for Hermione's hand, forcing her up, and slowly pulled further away from Neville.
"Neville," Harry said, cautiously. "Maybe you should just step away, Mate." With Harry's words, the cauldron began to crack and the potion made a loud shrieking noise.
What happened next was all blur to Harry. He remembered Hermione's scream and Ron's hand coming up to protect her face. Harry seemed to lunge forward and throw Neville away from the cauldron just as it exploded. Then, something massive struck Harry's face. It was hot…very hot. And then all he remembered was darkness.
Harry opened his eyes some few hours later. At least, he thought his eyes were open… `If my eyes are open, why can't I see?' Harry thought frantically. He shot up and began to move his arms about.
"It's alright, Harry!" He heard Hermione's voice followed by the familiar feeling of her hand in his. She squeezed his hand as she repeated, "It's alright."
"Hermione?" Harry questioned. "I-I can't see you." He spoke very softly.
"You got a nasty blow to the face, Harry." Ron spoke up. "When you knocked Neville out of the way, you must have knocked off your glasses too or something, because when the potion exploded, it got into your eyes."
"We brought you here immediately!" Hermione chirped in. "You've been unconscious for a couple of hour. You gave us quite a scare. I'm just glad you're alright."
"ALRIGHT!" Harry shouted. "I can't see, Hermione! How is that alright?"
"Calm down, Mr. Potter." Harry heard Dumbledore amidst the darkness. "Madam Pomfrey believes that your condition may be curable."
"May be curable?" Harry shouted once more. He was about to say something else when he felt Hermione squeeze his hand.
"Harry…" She whispered, pleadingly. Harry took the hint and kept quiet.
"Professor Snape, almost immediately identified where Mr. Longbottom became… confused." Madam Pomfrey said. She stopped for a moment to ponder the irony of her statement but then carried on.
"I believe I was able to formulate an antidote and applied it before I wrapped your eyes in the bandages." Harry lifted his free hand to realize that there were bandages wrapped around the top of his face. "In three weeks time, I will remove the bandages and examine your progress."
"Three weeks…" Harry repeated. His voice was monotone but as Madam Pomfrey began to list a series of things he was not to do until the three weeks were up, he squeezed Hermione's hand tighter and tighter.
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