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And now, for another two-part fic, and so that I won't forget sequels for these fics are:
The E-Diary of an Evil Janitor
Sequel Of Suggestion
And, if A Stolen Past is not finished: A Past Reclaimed
And now, on to POWER OF SUGGESTION! *scary music*
Chapter 1: That's Hand-y, Hermione.
Breakfast had ended at Hogwarts and students were filing off to their first classes of the day. With this, we find our three protagonists, Harry, Ron and Hermione, heading down the stairs to the dungeons.
“Double Potions!” Ron complained loudly. “Why did we have to get double Potions for our first class on a Monday?! I didn’t think it was possible to ruin Mondays even further.”
“Look on the bright side, Ron,” Hermione said.
“I don’t think there is a bright side to this,” Harry replied. “Potions are still with Slytherins. And the potions themselves keep getting harder and harder to make. I think you’ll be the only one who can actually keep up this year, Hermione.”
“Don’t be silly, there are loads of other students who’re good at Potions.”
“Yeah, they’re all in Slytherin,” countered Ron. “Snape wouldn’t grade them down if they spit in their cauldrons and turned that in.”
“Oh come on, he’s not that lenient,” said Hermione.
“Yes he is. If he were actually a fair teacher, half the class would still be in third year. And Gryffindor would get points for all the questions you answer.”
“I don’t answer that many questions. Snape doesn’t even ask that many.”
“True, but when he does, bang, your hand’s in the air fast as lightning.”
“Give it a rest, Ron.”
“No, it’s true. I swear, with as often as you raise your hand, it’ll get stuck some day.”
Hermione opened her mouth to argue back, but just then Snape appeared at the door and ushered the students into the classroom. The Potions classroom was as cold and clammy, dark and dreary as ever, even more so first thing in the morning on a Monday. Harry, Ron and Hermione took their usual seats in the back of the room, as far from their disagreeable teacher as they could get. The ingredients list and directions appeared on the board, and the students set to work. After what seemed like an eternity, the class was finally about to end. Everyone had cleaned their spaces and was waiting for the bell to ring.
“A quick question about this potion,” Snape said while the students waited. “Who can tell me what unusual properties it has?”
Naturally, Hermione’s hand went straight into the air. Snape looked around, ignoring her.
“Anyone?” he asked. “Potter?”
Harry just committed himself to shrugging. Snape smirked evilly and shook his head. “Well, I guess you’ll have to learn. I want a foot on this potion’s properties, to be handed in tomorrow.”
There was a collective groan from the class and Ron exclaimed, “A foot?!”
Snape gave Ron a “you’re questioning me?” look and amended, “A foot and a half. And ten points from Gryffindor.” Everyone glared at Ron. “What?” Snape asked.
Ron looked confused. Then he realized that Snape was talking to Hermione, whose hand was still raised.
“Do you have a question?” said Snape.
“No,” Hermione answered.
“Then put your hand down.”
“I can’t.”
Snape blinked. “What?”
“I can’t put my hand down.”
The look on Snape’s face had changed from one of disdain to curiosity. He went to the back table where Hermione sat and looked closely at her arm, still above her head. He pushed it a little, and it moved, but swayed back to where it was. He pulled it down like the arm of a slot machine so Hermione’s hand was on the table, and let go. It moved back into its previous upright position.
“You really can’t put it down?” Snape asked.
“No, sir.”
“Hmm.” He walked back to the front of the room and sat behind his desk.
“Um, sir?” Hermione began tentatively. “Isn’t there anything we can do about this?”
Snape shrugged. “Deal with it.”
“But-“
“I really doubt anyone will notice a difference,” A nasty grin spread on his thin face.
Hermione tried to argue back, but the bell rang as she opened her mouth. Still fuming, the trio left the dungeon and headed back upstairs.
“I cannot believe him!” Ron shouted. “What right does he have to shrug you off like that?”
“Just drop it,” said Hermione.
“So, you really can’t put your hand down?” Harry asked.
“Yes! I wasn’t joking.”
“Maybe you should go to the hospital wing,” suggested Ron.
So they went to the hospital wing. Unfortunately, after a few tests like Snape’s, Madam Pomfrey couldn’t figure out what was wrong and merely suggested having Ron or Harry hold down Hermione’s arm, if it bothered her to have it in the air. Slightly dejected, they went to the Great Hall for lunch.
“Um, got a problem?” Ginny asked as Ron leaned on his elbow, which had Hermione’s hand firmly under it.
“What? No! Everything’s fine. Just fine,” Ron replied.
Ginny looked skeptical. Harry leaned over and whispered, “Hermione raised her hand to answer a question in Potions, and it stayed like that. So Ron’s holding her arm down for her.”
“Weird. What made her hand do that?” said Ginny.
“I haven’t a clue. But we saw Madam Pomfrey, and she doesn’t know what it is.”
“Maybe you should see Dumbledore.”
“I don’t want to bother him with something like this,” said Hermione.
“Well, we’ve got Defense Against the Dark Arts next. Maybe our new professor can help,” suggested Ron.
As soon as lunch ended, Harry, Ron and Hermione hurried upstairs to the classroom. They were the first students to arrive, but found their professor already sitting behind his desk. The new teacher was named Professor Arbitrare. He was a tall, wiry man with blonde hair and glasses rather like himself: gold wire frames. He also seemed to be deciding if he wanted to grow a beard, because he would occasionally have an unshaven patch on his chin. But this story isn’t about how he looks, is it?
“Uh, Professor?” said Harry as they entered the room.
“Ah, Mr. Potter! What can I do for you?”
“Well, it’s actually what you can do for Hermione. You see…” Harry motioned to Ron, who let go of Hermione’s wrist and nearly got smacked in the face as her hand went up yet again.
“Wow. Neat trick, but what’s your point?”
“She can’t put her hand down,” said Harry.
“But we can,” added Ron.
“Hmm,” said Professor Arbitrare, getting up and walking over. “Hmm, hmm. Well, let’s think here. Hermione, can you move your fingers?”
“I think so,” she said, wiggling them.
“Hmm. Can you get me that jar over on that shelf?”
Hermione went and got the jar, which was now above her head.
“Thanks,” said Professor Arbitrare. He took the jar, opened it and started eating Every-Flavor Beans.
“So what’s wrong?” asked Ron.
Professor Arbitrare shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“Isn’t there anything we can do?”
“Sure.” The professor went and rummaged through his desk drawers for a minute, then returned with a roll of duct tape. “This’ll keep your arm in place for the time being.”
The rest of the class was just starting to arrive when Hermione’s arm was successfully taped down. She, Harry and Ron went and took their seats and tried to act casual, which is difficult to do when one’s arm is taped to one’s side.
“Something just occurred to me,” said Professor Arbitrare, coming over to the trio. “Hermione, did anyone say anything unusual to you today? Anything about having your arm like it was?”
“Yeah, Ron was joking earlier and said I raise my hand so much, it might get stuck.”
“I see.” He went to the front of the room. “Attention class! I am going to the headmaster’s office for a minute, try to not destroy anything while I’m out.”
Everyone was extremely confused as their teacher strode out of the classroom. He returned shortly, however, and the rest of the lesson was rather enjoyable. The rest of the classes passed, and soon it was time for dinner. Dinner passed uneventfully, and everyone was almost done eating when Dumbledore stood up.
“I would like to make, a rather…unusual announcement,” he said. “It has recently come to my attention that a student made a particularly harmless comment, but it wasn’t so harmless and affected another student. This is not an ordinary case of bullying or anything so simple. I’m afraid that the castle has come under…the Power of Suggestion!”
There was a huge clatter as almost everyone dropped their forks and gasped.
“Now, no one should panic,” Dumbledore continued. “The Power of Suggestion is difficult to understand, but if we lose our heads, it will only make things worse. For our students who aren’t familiar with this phenomenon, let me explain.
"The Power of Suggestion is a spell that turns our words into deeds. If someone were to say, ‘Mrs. Norris should spit fire,’ they just might find it happening. This spell is unpredictable. You can’t know when it will strike, or when someone will have an umbrella for a head. I would therefore advise extreme caution when speaking to anyone, even yourself.”
He sat back down, and the Hall erupted into a flurry of chatter, accompanied by the sound of Filch’s cat burning the end of the High Table, and a fwump as a third-year Hufflepuff’s head opened.
Phaaah...this fic is long ENOUGH without me adding every chapter on this entry. Next chapter next entry! I earn more gold that way.
 Peridot_Horntail · Thu Sep 06, 2007 @ 12:59am · 2 Comments |
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