Hurried footsteps broke the stony silence of Hogwarts halls . The gasping, headlong rush of a late student was nothing new to the ancient building, students were always befuddled by the twisting halls and changing staircases. However, as the footsteps grew louder and more desperate, portraits looked at the student curiously, whispering to each other. This was most definitely a first. Such a thing was incredibly rare.
Hermione Granger, prefect, Head Girl, and top student, barely made the sharp corner without crashing into a suit of armor. Throwing a apology over her shoulder at it, she regained her balance and continued her dash. Shouldn't have fallen asleep! I shouldn't have let myself fall asleep! She thought desperately as she took the next corner just as gracefully. McGonagall's going to kill me! She was so caught up in trying not to trip over her own feet that she failed to notice the sound of nearby footsteps. The only class I could pick to be late to that would be worse is- Her thoughts were cut of as she turned yet another corner and collided with something soft.
"Ow. Owowowow. Ouch." Hermione picked herself up, rubbing her head. Glancing around, she felt a cold shock run through her body. She was tangled in far more black cloth than was normally part of a Hogwarts school uniform. Raising her eyes from the floor, she nearly swallowed her tongue and immediately began to backpedal. Unfortunately, her frantic scuffling only served to unbalance her once more and send her sprawling back down onto the soft object. She lay still for a moment and then looked up with the expression of one who expected the heavens to come tumbling down on her at any moment.
She wasn't far off.
"Care to try again Miss Granger? I believe I have a few ribs still intact."
Blushing furiously, Hermione managed to make it down to the floor, a vast improvement over where she had been seconds earlier. She watched as her fuming potions teacher, his robes now a mottled gray from the dusty floors, climbed to his feet. After brushing uselessly at his sleeves for a moment, he looked down at her. "Get up, Miss Granger. I know the floor isn't that comfortable."
Hermione got up, mentally slapping herself for her clumsiness. She opened her mouth to apologize, but noticed that Snape was looking at her oddly. "Is something wrong, sir?"
"Have you ever been late for a class before, Miss Granger?" he asked abruptly.
Taken aback, Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times before settling into confused silence. Had she ever been late for a class before? Not since third year, when she had slept through a class. However, that could be considered extenuating circumstances. "No, Professor." she said slowly, "Not really, at least not in the last few years."
"Hmph." A thoughtful expression crossed Snape's face before his usual scowl returned. "And to what do we owe this rare misstep of yours? Potter and Weasley ask you to go on another of their famed rule-breaking adventures?" A thin smile tugged at his lips, "No, never mind, that can't be it. School has only been in session for a few weeks. You and your 'gang' never start breaking rules until after the first month at least."
"I-er-fell asleep in the library, actually."
"Really."
The look on Snape's face spurred Hermione to further her explanation. "I haven't been sleeping well lately, and the book I had chosen to read wasn't as interesting as I thought it would be. That, combined with the sunbeam I chose to curl up in, made me drowsy, I guess."
"I know what causes drowsiness, Miss Granger. I also know that you are now nearly a half hour late for your Advanced Transfiguration class. I suggest0 you get a move on before you manage to miss the whole thing. As for a punishment for failing to watch where you were running . . ." He raised an eyebrow at her, considering. "I think five points from Gryffindor, and the satisfaction of seeing Minerva forced to give her favorite student a detention will suffice."
Glancing at her watch as the Professor spoke, Hermione let out a stifled yelp of surprise. It was far later than she thought it was. She scooped up her book bag and, remembering Snape's thinly veiled warning about running, walked quickly away.
The potions master watched her leave. As soon as she was out of sight, the sound of frantic footsteps reached his ears once more. Well, at least she had the brains not to run while still under his watchful gaze. He momentarily debated whether or not he should deduct more points, then decided that it wasn't worth it in the long run. Minerva would be in a poor enough mood after having to give the Granger girl a detention. He didn't really want to push his luck by deducting points for an offense heard, not seen. If he did, he was liable to find his favorite armchair in the staff room transfigures into a porcupine or some other exceedingly uncomfortable creature.
Hermione carefully pushed open the door to the Transfiguration classroom. As she had feared, Professor McGonagall had already noticed her absence and was watching the door like, well, a cat watching a mouse. The girl swallowed nervously and stepped into the room.
"Miss Granger, you are late." The teacher raised an eyebrow. "Do you have an explanation?"
The disappointment on McGonagall's face made Hermione's stomach bottom out. She hung her head and muttered, "I fell asleep in the library."
"Is that your excuse?"
"Yes ma'am."
McGonagall sighed. She hated to do this, but bending the rules for one student, no matter how intelligent, set a bad precedent. "I can't overlook your lateness Miss Granger. Please report to my office for detention after school today."
Hermione swallowed again. "Yes, ma'am." Ignoring the sniggers of the Slytherins, she took her seat.
After class, Harry and Ron were all sympathy. "Gosh Hermione! You're never late!" Ron exclaimed the moment they were out.
"Don't I know it." Hermione shook her head. "I should have kept better track of the time."
"I wouldn't worry too much if I were you, 'Mione. It's not like you've never had a detention before."
"I know. It's just . . ." She trailed off, looking miserable. It didn't help much that Draco chose that moment to pop up behind him and add his two cents.
"Well now, Granger. Falling down to the level of us lesser beings?"
Hermione glanced at him in annoyance before smiling ever so sweetly, "I never thought I'd hear you admit to being less than me, Malfoy."
Approval shone in the grins of her two friends at her comeback. Malfoy, on the other hand, continued as though she hadn't spoken, though his ears may have turned slightly pink and his voice became slightly higher pitched. "Falling asleep while studying! Who would thought that something like that would happen! The Gryffindor bookworm scorning books for sleep. Tsk tsk. Perhaps something of more importance has been weighing on your mind lately?"
Hermione's eyes dropped. Without realizing it, Draco had indeed hit upon the problem. Worry had kept her up for several nights straight, and her body had leapt, as it were, at the chance for some rest in the library, once her mind was occupied with other matters. She sighed almost indiscernibly.
Draco would have jumped upon this show of weakness at once if Professor McGonagall hadn't come out of the classroom. She eyed them all with a slight air of suspicion. Draco immediately snapped his mouth shut and gave Hermione an oily grin before sauntering off with his cronies.
As soon as both Malfoy and McGonagall were out of sight, Ron shook his fist in the direction Draco had taken. "Bloody git. One of these days I'd like to just . ." He trailed off, looking sheepish. "Well, I'm not sure. Something painful. Preferably embarrassing."
"Wouldn't we all. C'mon 'Mione. Let's go get some dinner."
Hermione followed her friends to the Great Hall, but her thoughts remained elsewhere. She ate without noticing what she was actually putting in her mouth. She wished that she had never gone home over the summer. It really wouldn't have changed anything, but sometimes, she supposed, it was better to remain in blissful ignorance. That was the main problem really. What if the whole thing had been like that from the beginning, and she had lived in ignorance, not noticing until it was too late? She sighed again, and finally noticed that someone was poking her.
"Hey Hermione! You in there?" Harry's face entered her field of view, creased with worry.
"Oh, sorry!" She shook her head to clear it. "I'm fine."
"Right. That's why you cleared your plate a while ago, but you still keep putting the fork in your mouth."
She looked down. Sure enough, her plate was empty, as was most of the Great Hall. Blushing again, she put her fork down and watched it vanish with the plate. "I guess my mind's just someplace else."
Harry shook his head. "Hermione, you can tell us what's wrong, you know. We're your friends."
Hermione started to open her mouth, but paused. Could she tell them? It wouldn't help her at all, and it would only make them worry. Even worse, they might tell her that she was overreacting. She swallowed her words and smiled instead. "No, really. I'm just fine."
Detention for being late, and that doesn't even work out. Hermione stood outside McGonagall's classroom, feeling worse than she had felt in a while. And that was saying something. On the door hung a note for her. It read:
Miss Granger,
I'm sorry, but something has come up, and the Headmaster needs to
speak with me tonight.
I've arranged for another professor to take charge of
your detention this evening.
Professor Minerva McGonagall
Oh, just lovely. Can it get any worse? She stared at the note for a moment in dismay. Now she didn't even get one of her favorite teachers. The only consolation was that it wouldn't be Trelawney. Not only did McGonagall dislike her almost as much as Hermione did, the ditzy professor refused to cover any detentions, saying that they 'clouded her inner eye.' She got out of a lot of things that way, the girl reflected.
"Ah, well. Nothing else for it. Just get it over with." Maybe it'll be Professor Vector. I could stand that. She pushed open the door and looked in, feeling a sense of deja-vu.
At first, she thought the room was empty. Only a few candles were lit, and it appeared that no one was sitting at the desk. She tiptoed in, as if she was afraid of disturbing the silence, and nearly leapt out of her skin when the figure seated at the desk stood and glared at her coldly. She felt her stomach bottom out and land in the vicinity of the dungeons. It's worse.
It was Professor Snape.
Author's note: Gah! Stupid me didn't realize that I missed a paragraph when I first uploaded this. Many thanks to Meriadoc / Celithrathien for pointing that out to me. Anyway, it's fixed now (I hope), so please review and tell me if I screwed anything else up!