School Uniform Has A Multitude Of Uses by madamsnape/JTBJAB

School Uniform Has A Multitude Of Uses by madamsnape/JTBJAB

Beta acknowledgement: Jessica, you are my saviour!

Disclaimer: Canon characters not mine. Canon world not mine. OC's ... only Jemima is mine. (Took inspiration from my photos at Portus for this one! ;p Thank you, Droxy!)

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Jemima settled back in her chair. The library was quiet, and as far as she could tell, there wasn't another student in there to disturb her peace. She was in the process of perfecting a spell that she had found in one of the advanced charm books.

Three weeks, and she still couldn't get it to work properly. Furrowing her brows, she glared down at the stubborn drawing. An arm or a leg occasionally twitched, but there wasn't the full motion that she required. That she wanted. That she desired.

Her side project was to create figures that moved like photographs ... she had even convinced Professor Flitwick to aid her in her studies ... using it to gain extra credit, but really it was so she could sell them; whilst reading about this particular spell, she had noticed those wizards that had been credited with its creation. And her background research on them had revealed they had been play wizards. Or rather, the founders of the biggest Wizard Pornography magazine.

It was an ingenious spell really, and the result would have her rolling in Galleons before the end of term. She already had two wizards backing her in secret, one who was more interested than the other, but still, they had the Galleons, and as a team, they were allowed access to her progress reports.

Hearing footsteps, she closed the book she was working on slowly and folded her current drawing so that all it showed were some hurried notes scrawled across it. Glaring at the flashing yellow card, she slipped it under her notes.

Glancing up, she grimaced at the beaming face of Ronald Weasley.

"So have you finished it yet? I've already been asking the lads, seeing who would be interested... got you at least fifty Galleons for your first issue in Gryffindor alone!"

"Weasley, you're not meant to be telling anyone about it!"

"Jemima, come on! You said you wanted the Galleons, and that you were making progress... I could always convince Hermione to help you!"

Pushing her chair back slowly, Jemima scowled. "If you dare tell that bookworm what I am doing, I will be forced to do something that you won't like."

Ron shrank back against a bookshelf, his face no longer showing eager excitement. "I'm s-s-sorry, Jemima."

"I'm fed up of your sniveling after my progress. Next time the two of you want a progress report, send Potter. I'm in this for the Galleons, not to entertain your infantile dreams of being a porn star. Maybe I'll rethink who will be starring –" Stopping, an evil smirk crossed her features. "No, no, I'll just rethink how big a star they are." Rolling her eyes as Ron looked at her with a confused expression plastered on his face, she grabbed her books and threw her bag over her shoulder. "I don't expect to see you again, Weasel." Flicking her long hair as she passed him, she stifled a laugh as he whimpered. Waiting until she was clear of the library doors, she let a small giggle surface. "Stupid Gryffindors."

***** *****

Three weeks of no sleep, and three weeks of little progress. Groaning, Jemima resisted the urge to crawl as she made her way to Madam Pomfrey.

"Now, dear, what seems to be the problem?"

She cleared her throat before speaking, "I'm having ever so much trouble sleeping, Madame Pomfrey, and I can't seem to concentrate at all. I keep working on my assignments, and being so close to some kind of conclusion, and then 'poof', it's gone."

Madame Pomfrey nodded, a grim smile on her face. "Studying too hard, you need a break. Off you go."

"No!" Jemima lowered her head, and let her eyes fill with tears. "Please!" Lifting her eyes to meet the concerned gaze of the older woman, Jemima allowed her lower lip to tremble. "I need to solve this! I need to get this right."

"Okay, dear, okay. I'll sign you off from classes today, and I expect you to sleep, young lady. If I see you moping at dinner tonight, then I'll summon you here, and I'll force you to sleep. Do you understand?"

"Oh, thank you so much, Madame Pomfrey. You don't know what this means to me." Jemima blinked and her tears were gone, a small smile playing at the edge of her lips, only ruined by the yawn which stole her free will.

"I'll give you a vial of Pepper-Up Potion for when you wake up. Now, sit here for a moment."

Jemima watched the older witch bustle off, her robe swishing on the cold stone floor. And a light seemed to peer through the cracks in her mind. "That's it." Mumbling to herself, she only just managed to straighten in time to meet the spoon hovering in front of her.

"Drink this."

"Wha–?" As her mouth opened, the spoon was shoved roughly into her mouth, and Jemima spluttered as the thick sludge worked its way down her throat.

"That was to make you sleep. It's got extra vitamins, to help you recover... I saw you mumbling, you've figured something out, and then I know there'd be no sleeping for you. Now, onto the bed."

Jemima scowled at the crafty witch and jumped up onto the bed. Yawning, she stretched and fell back onto the pillow.

"Sleep well, dear. I'll wake you in time for dinner."

***** *****

Jemima scowled into her lamb roast. She didn't like being forced into things, and she certainly didn't like being tricked. But Madame Pomfrey had helped her solve her problem, albeit without her knowledge. Glancing up at the Head Table she saw the mediwitch watching her; straightening hurriedly, she tucked into her meal and started to join in with the conversations around her.

Eager to get back to her break-through, she swallowed down a good portion of dessert just in case, and as soon as the first student rose to leave, she grabbed her bags and made a quick exit from the Great Hall.

Rushing towards the library, she skidded around corners and up stairs. There was only two hours until curfew, and if she got this to work, she did not want a single teacher to discover it and her out and about.

Sliding into her favourite studying table, she smiled. Pulling her books out of her bag, she slid into their normal position, and then she got to work. Chewing on her lower lip, she concentrated hard on her drawing. The pencil scratching became mesmerising to her, like the ocean crashing on the rocks, slipping up on the shore, and rushing back out again. The teasing strokes left wave upon wave of lines.

It had to be perfect this time, because if she got it to work, she wanted them to see how well it could be. Her vague stick men wouldn't do for this. She needed full figures, their clothing shaded and laying properly, their body parts in proportion... their features unmistakable. It had to be obvious to all who saw it, who was who and what was happening, and not just those that knew or had been told.

***** *****

That weekend had been the longest weekend since she'd first received her Hogwarts letter, and all because she'd been waiting for the next Potions lesson. She had been sure that somehow Snape would find out what she was planning, what she had been doing... and who was involved, so she had been avoiding the dungeons until today.

Leaning against the wall, she tried not to let the tension thrumming through her body show; keeping her back stiff and her eyes alert, she tried to stop the tapping of her fingers on her thigh and the nervous biting of her lip, sighs and foot tapping. Where is he? Bloody Potter!

Eventually, Bernise snapped, "Will you stop fidgeting! He's not even here yet!"

"Sorry." Jemima giggled nervously. "It's just, it's good. Really good."

A girl with long black hair nudged her and laughed. "I'll say..."

"Margarite!"

"What? Bernise? Give the girl some credit; she went the extra mile... I mean the tie... oh, it just finished it off!"

"Shhh..." Jemima shuffled back against the wall and pulled her bag closer to her.

The swishing and snapping of material made its slow progress towards their group, and what had been childish giggling became hushed chatter about potions. "Quiet! Single file. Your instructions are on the board." His thick baritone washed over them, and Jemima blushed, stroking the pocket which held her very special experiment.

Rushing towards the door, she pulled out her note, and dropped it into Harry's hand as he passed by. She glanced nervously up at Snape and breathed a sigh of relief that he didn't appear to have noticed.

Harry grinned at her and gave her the thumbs up, sliding the note into his pocket and rushing off to his first class of the day. Jemima's attention was quickly refocused on Snape as he snapped about copying down instructions before swooping into his office.

Although the room seemed to have been settled into a silence, the anticipated hush that hung in the air as Jemima's note flew through the air into Snape's office was thick and suffocating. Jemima grabbed her things and shoved them quickly into her bag; preparing to run if she needed to.

A couple of the boys from Gryffindor stared at her in wide-eyed terror, clearly having been told about her project and figuring out that was what her note had been.

"It'll be okay," she mouthed at them. "Deny all knowledge."

The slamming of the door to Snape's office brought their attention back to the front.

"When I discover that students have time on their hands for..." he glanced down at the piece of paper in his hand, the slight fuchsia that had touched the edges of his cheeks flushed a shade deeper, "extra-curricular activities, for something as un-academic as this..." Snape waved the paper around, not appearing to notice the way the students in front of him were following it like it held the answer to life. "It makes me believe that you'd all rather be in detention." He drawled out the last few words, snapping them all back into focus, their eyes on him instead of the note. "Jemima Wilkinson."

"Yes, sir." She smiled eagerly at him.

"Thank you for providing me with a class of extra hands for scrubbing cauldrons tonight. Detention!"

His gaze dropped to his desk as he gathered a few papers, and Jemima took her chance to slip her card out of her bag slightly, breathing a sigh of relief at the lack of flashing and the finally green lettering. Glancing at Margarite, she gave her a tight smile and a wink. She'd need all the luck she could get for her turn, especially as her skin took on a slightly greenish hue.

It seemed that all the strange events suddenly happening in Potions were getting to him, and he didn't even make eye contact or glance back at Domina and her clinking armour when he went to swoop back into his office.

As soon as his back was turned, she took her chance and summoned the note back to her. It had taken her over three hours to complete. He could hardly expect less of her.

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And the fun continues...

Author's Notes: I took the liberty to alter the prompt slightly; the idea of Jemima drawing animated pictures enthralled me more than a note could.

Original prompt was: #28. Pass a note to Harry or Ron right when Snape walks by, and wait for his face to turn beet red when he starts to read it ... out loud. Make sure the note is (cough cough ahem) inappropriate, so Snape's face turns really red. Make it blatantly obvious that the note is about you and Snape. Then smile at him suggestively.