5. You're also a right git, I hope you know. And furthermore--
"Pass in your papers," announced Aran.
Wow, time really had flown. Harry took great satisfaction in writing his name in large letters at the top of the page he'd been working on. Rolling it up, he stood up and threw it at Aran's desk, then plunked himself back down on his chair.
Aran walked up the aisle, his wand held in his hand. He seemed to be muttering something, and flicking his wand a bit. Barmy old bastard.
"Class dismissed," said Aran, then.
"About time," said Harry, loud enough to be heard. He started slamming books into his book bag, but when he tried to get up to leave, he found that his trousers were glued down tight to the chair. And not just his trousers, but his arse as well! "Hey!" he yelled. Glancing over, he saw that Draco was equally stuck.
"And in case you're thinking of trying an unsticking charm," said Aran, smirking, "the spell I used is obscure. You will be staying for your detention, make no mistake."
Some of the Slytherins laughed. The Gryffindors just looked like they thought Harry'd got a tough break. Except Hermione, who had that I-told-you-so look in her eyes.
Aran waited until the door clicked behind the last of the students leaving. "Now, get out quill and parchment and do those lines you refused to do last week!"
"No," said Harry and Draco, both at the same time.
"Yeah, maybe you can make us stay," Harry went on, "but you can't make us do anything."
As if to prove the point, he slouched down in his chair. Well, as much as the sticking charm would let him, anyway.
"And if we go hungry you know we'll tell on you to Severus," added Draco in a taunting voice. "I think I'll tell him about this sticking charm, anyway. It's practically assault, you know. You aren't really allowed to cast spells on students, are you, unless it's strictly needed for the curriculum?"
"I'm sure Professor Snape would be interested to know why I needed a sticking charm! And if you don't behave yourself, young man, you'll not be getting back the amulet your brother gave you!" Aran sneered the last.
Uh-oh. It was sort of like a standoff, now.
Aran picked up the assignments on his desk and began unrolling them. One by one he tossed them aside after only looking at the name. When he came to Harry's, though, he stopped to read it, his face getting redder each second.
"You sure are a slow reader," muttered Harry in a low voice. Not low enough, though.
"And you're a sight more dim-witted than I'd expected," barked Aran back. "I hadn't gone to the headmaster before this because frankly, he makes it pretty clear you're his golden-boy who can do no wrong! But he won't be able to ignore incontrovertible evidence, written in your own hand, of just how nasty you've turned, will he now?"
"Incendio!" yelled Harry and Draco, both at once.
Aran just shook his head. "I'm holding it. Didn't I just mention the warding?" He kept it the scroll in hand as he flicked his wand and sent a silver message spinning from it. Ha, his Patronus form looked a lot like a snake to Harry. Wasn't that ironic?
"Do something!" Draco whispered to Harry.
"I suggest you do something," said Aran in a cold tone. "Your lines, for example, while we wait for the headmaster. Let's start with five hundred repetitions of I will be polite to my professors and do as they say. Yes, that'll do."
"Oh, fuck you," snarled Harry.
"Do something a little more helpful than that, Harry!"
"I don't think you're likely to tell your father about this, either, Potter," snarled Aran. "Considering what makes it necessary! Bocalavare!"
Harry abruptly found himself with a mouth full of soap suds.
"Blech!" He tried to spit them out, but they kept foaming up, oozing all over the place. Some of them slipped down his throat. Ouch, that stung. And they tasted awful.
Harry grabbed the bottom hem of his cloak and sort of stuffed it in his mouth, trying to wipe the suds out of it.
It didn't help his mood that Draco was holding back laughter.
"Will you watch your language?" asked Aran.
Harry resentfully nodded, but that didn't seem to be enough. The suds kept bubbling up to fill his mouth with foam. "Yes, sir," he managed to say through the lather.
"See that you do. Finite Incantatem."
Harry swabbed out his mouth again and turned a glare on his brother. "You might have done that, you know. Helped me out. You think?"
"It was funny!"
"Oh, thanks a lot!"
Draco pointed. "You've still got a bit of soap there. And there."
"Shut up!"
"Ehem." A new voice kept Harry from saying more. Turning--well, as much as he could while he was stuck down--Harry saw the headmaster, dressed in garish pink and purple robes, quietly closing the door behind him. Dumbledore's voice, when he spoke, was very mild. "Problem, Professor Aran?"
"I should say so. Potter here's been influencing Draco Malfoy for the worse--"
"Draco Snape," corrected Dumbledore in a soft voice. "He has changed his name, as I believe you were informed? When he was adopted?"
"Yes, well, perhaps that's part of the problem. When I had him in classes back in September he was a perfectly polite, personable young man--"
Harry almost choked, hearing that. Was Aran's memory as bad as his teaching? Draco had been his usual bratty self back at the start of term!
"And now he's practically a hellion! And it's that one's fault!" Aran pointed his wand at Harry.
By that time Dumbledore was right alongside the other teacher. The headmaster put a hand on Aran's arm and gave it a gentle push down. "Manners, Professor," he said in a low voice. "I think it's a bit much to attribute Mr. Snape's behaviour to another student," he added as he peered critically at Harry. "My boy, are you quite all right?"
Harry used his sleeve to wipe again at his mouth and face. "Yeah, fine."
"What you see are the remnants of sudsing spell made necessary by that boy's absolute urinal of a mouth!"
Dumbledore raised both his eyebrows. "Really. I've seen Harry in quite a lather, if you'll pardon the pun, and he still managed to restrain himself from any truly untoward behaviour."
Harry thought that a pretty big exaggeration considering he'd wrecked half the man's office, but he appreciated the support, he really did.
"Perhaps you should have a look at his day's work," said Aran, looking triumphant. He thrust the parchment in his hand toward Dumbledore.
The headmaster's eyes wrinkled as he began to look it over. "Oh, Harry."
"I was angry," Harry muttered, struggling to remember just what he'd written. When his exact words came back to him, he wanted to crawl into a hole. Instead of doing that, he raised his voice. "I had good reason to be angry! He calls me a Dark Wizard! In class! In front of everyone!"
Dumbledore looked about to say one thing, but then appeared to change his mind. "Professor, since you've summoned me, I can only imagine you would like me to take charge of the matter? Come Harry, come Draco. We'll deal with this in my office."
Harry tried to get up, but he couldn't.
The headmaster cleared his throat and spoke a little more forcefully. "A word, Harry, if you please."