Severus Snape paced the floor of his private quarters with increasing murderous fury. How…dare… that Potter brat insult him that way? In front of his own House? The impudence, the audacity, the sheer arrogance and brutish misogyny Potter displayed beggared the imagination. Snape was going to relish the detention that he had in mind for that mewling little quim for the next month. Potter was going to wish that he had never survived infancy.
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"Oh, come on Harry! You know that this time…you kind of asked for it! Professor Snape was fully within his rights to give you detention! You know not to bait him." Harry stopped his mad pacing of the Gryffindor common room and looked askance at Hermione; she looked down.
"Are you kidding me? The man insults my father's name in my face and you say he was within his rights?" Harry ground out.
Hermione shrugged sheepishly, "Well…that doesn't mean that allows you to call him a greasy old git only a mother could love". Harry looked to Ron, who was studiously looking at his cuticles.
"Come on, mate! You know I am right, right? Help a fellow out here." Harry muttered. Ron finally looked up, and his face bloomed bright red, making his hair positively glow in the firelight of the common room.
"Well, you see…I would mate, you know I would. But…" Ron looked sideways at Hermione and muttered, "You did point your wand at him." Ron raised both his hands in a gesture of solidarity. "I mean, ya! He is the greasy bat of the dungeons, but even McGonagall would give you detention for that." Harry flopped into a big easy chair and stared into the flickering flames and heaved a huge sigh. Hermione came and sat at his feet on the plush maroon carpet.
"Harry? I am sorry that he insulted your father-I really am. But maybe this is a…lesson in controlling your anger, at least where Professor Snape is concerned?" Hermione paused hesitantly, then continued, "I think you let him get to you too much. He is a bitter, angry man with a chip the size of Hogwarts on his shoulder, and he blames your father. He does not have the right to take that out on you, but nevertheless, he is a professor…which means he will most likely always win. So…maybe-" Harry cut her off.
"Maybe what?! Maybe let him disrespect me, my father, and my family?! Let him say whatever he pleases and torture those weaker than him? No. He is a sadistic, awful excuse for a man and I will never let him slur my family or anyone else. I will always stand up to him and all like him. I cannot sit and watch. I can't." Harry pushed to his feet and stalked to the stairs leading to the boy's dormitory, where he paused for a moment.
"I am going to bed. Sleep well Hermione." With that, Harry went upstairs. Hermione sat on the floor in silence, and a few moments later Ron joined her from his seat at the table. He put his arm around her and she lay her head on Ron's shoulder. She closed her eyes, and they sat like that for the rest of the night.