Disclaimer: I solemnly swear I do not own Harry Potter or related characters/settings.
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"That is enough for tonight, Miss Granger."
Glancing at the clock, Hermione's eyes narrowed with suspicion. She had, yet again, been assigned a detention with Hogwarts' most feared and reviled Potions professor who just happened to have a penchant for punishing her "insufferable know-it-all" behavior. The clock read only half past ten, however, and Hermione had yet to clean even half the standard size two pewter cauldrons gracing the back half of the classroom.
As she approached the desk behind which her professor sat, she found herself the object of Severus Snape's intense scrutiny. He considered her for a moment, eyes glinting, before steepling his fingers and addressing her. Though probably meant to intimidate, the gesture merely drew more attention to the beak-like quality of his nose.
"Perhaps next time you will reconsider the violence with which you wave your hand around. I do not imagine the air, not to mention the student next to you, appreciates being battered and bruised by your… enthusiasm."
The last word, undoubtedly infused with as much contempt as the man could muster, stung. Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot with an anger she actively refused to verbalize. Losing her temper would only serve to fuel her professor's sadistic pleasure.
"Why insist on asking questions if you do not wish them to be answered, Professor?" she asked, not quite managing to suppress the quiver of rage in her voice.
"Questions provide a means by which thought processes may be focused or directed," he replied calmly, dark eyes still fixed intently on hers.
He was baiting her. He wanted, expected, a reaction from her. And everyone knew Professor Snape rarely failed to achieve what he wanted. This time was no exception.
"Then why do you always insist on berating me for knowing the answer!" she cried, her indignation echoing off the impersonal dungeon walls.
The ghost of a smile passed, fleetingly, across the professor's face.
"Because, Miss Granger, there is a fatality about all physical and mental distinction."
Hermione, open-mouthed and ready to retort, found herself holding her tongue as, large hands gripping the desk, Professor Snape leaned towards her.
"The sort of fatality that seems to dog through history the faltering steps of kings. It is better not to be different from one's fellows, Miss Granger."
"That is completely un-" A small frown line appeared above Hermione's brow, her mind catching up with her mouth. "Wait. Are you- you're giving me advice!"
"Take it as you will," he replied, turning his attention to the rather large pile of essays gracing his desktop. "We are both aware that your knowledge exceeds what is taught in the Hogwarts curriculum, Miss Granger. I see no reason for you to concern yourself with proving that."
Stunned and hearing the dismissal in Professor Snape's voice, Hermione turned and slowly made to leave. Just as she was passing through the doorway, she heard Professor Snape's silky voice calling after her.
"Oh and, Miss Granger, if you mention this to anyone… Well, I'm sure you can imagine the consequences."
She couldn't help the bemused smile that spread its way across her face. No one would believe her anyway.
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"There is a fatality about all physical and mental distinction. The sort of fatality that seems to dog through history the faltering steps of kings. It is better not to be different from one's fellows." -- Quote and title from The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde