"Mr. Potter, will you kindly stop poking Mr. Weasley with your wand while I am attempting to instruct...despite the fact that it will likely be fruitless?"
Normally Severus Snape would have deducted fifty or so points from Gryffindor. But today he was tired. At thirty-eight he was beginning to feel-and not merely look-every year of his age. The painkilling potion had not been effective, nor had the hodgepodge of Muggle medicines he kept in his cabinet.
Severus was aware that most schools, even Muggle ones, had good groups of students and bad ones that were unfortunately congealed into classes together. This group of Gryffindors was particularily bad, and Severus dreaded two o'clock every single day when they came bustling into his classroom smelling as if they all needed a good cleansing spell. Here, he had to deal with the snarky attitude of Draco Malfoy, a student who was as obnoxious in the Slytherin common room as he was in the classroom; and that blasted Neville Longbottom who was still unteachable after six years of painstaking instruction. And of course, youths like Potter and Weasley could easily tire you out with how they had to be constantly watched.
Severus did not allow talking in his classroom at anytime except when he assigned independent work, in which students worked alone and were graded on their results at the end of class. He did not mind if they helped each other, so long as they were not cheating. Therefore the room was alive with chitchat and frustrated sighs and little arguments.
"Merlin, Ron! Would you stop distracting me with that filthy rodent of yours!" came an irritated female voice that he recognized as Hermione Granger's.
Hermione Granger was an exception in his class of rotten eggs, on most days. Certainly from time to time her know-it-all manner could agitate him. But for the most part she was very studious, and all he had to do was deduct points from Gryffindor once when she spoke out of turn, and it never happened again. Potions was not her strongest subject and never would be, but she diligently worked in class and studied and turned in homework and sweated out A after A, term after term. That was how she operated life, and he could not help but approve.
He pondered as he sat at his desk, what the rest of her life was like. He knew she was still bullied sometimes (not as bad as Neville) for her brains and social awkwardness. Though she was close with Potter and Weasley, she had few other friends and was not generally well-liked. As a boy Snape had attempted to throw himself into school to escape the teasing and wondered if Miss Granger was doing the same.
"Professor Snape, is something wrong?" Hermione asked, suddenly feet away.
He snapped to attention. His daydreaming had consumed his thoughts so that he did not know his face had taken on an even more stern look than usual.
When had she gotten breasts? The thought intruded in his mind and he shook it off with surprise. What was he doing having such thoughts about an eighteen year-old senior?
"Yes, indeed, something is wrong. You are out of your seat and not working on your in-class project," he drawled sternly. "Resume work at once, Miss Granger, and do not concern yourself with anything else for at least forty more minutes. Please."
Hermione shrugged, hurt, and returned to her seat.

Why had she concerned herself with him? Why had she even been watching him? The thought led to more unwanted thoughts as he discreetly watched her from his corner.

Her ridiculously frizzy hair had calmed over the years, whether through age or product he could not tell. It was now softly wavy and gleamed in the light streaming in through the gothic windows of his classroom. The sunlight caught it and gave it a golden glow. Her skin was pale, her form slight but certainly more curved than when he had first met her several years ago. Normally Severus preferred the generously curved female form that bordered on fat, but there was something...remarkably sexy about her elegance.

But who was he kidding. He had not had a witch to warm his bed in a decade. He was ugly and he knew it and it did nothing to destroy his arrogance, because he had recognized himself to be a failure at love and had thus ceased to try. He was not lonely, but reveled in being a private man. He closed his door at night and did not expect or want any visitors, not even house elves.

Three o'clock arrived and he dismissed the class, who had managed to clean up prematurely (oh how he hated that!) without his notice, since he was daydreaming. Bloody hell! He had not even graded their work! This was unlike him! They would believe that he was growing soft as Professor Trelawney!

Miss Granger remained at her seat even after the room was empty.

"Professor, could you please help me to understand how to complete the wormwood potion after I've added the thistle juice?"