"Does anyone else, other than Miss Granger, know the answer?" Professor Snape asked, his piercing gaze distributed over the class who only seemed to shrink away from voice. She had her hand raised for most of the lecture, naturally knowing the answer to every question he asked. She wanted him to see her. She stared him down, willing him to notice her, only to have him call on some other unwilling participant at his discretion. He was ignoring her.
Feeling her fingertips run cold from lack of blood, Hermione lowered her still raised hand to rest her elbow on the desk. He was deciding on his next victim, looking down at each student like prey. She was about to give up, seeing as class was already almost over anyway. She almost didn't notice him lock his eyes on her.
Obviously bored of his own game, Snape sighed, "Very well. Miss Granger. What are the ingredients of the Boil Cure potion?"
Glee ripped through her. Hermione could finally drop her hand. "Dried nettles, Horned slugs, Porcupine quills, and Snake fangs, sir." Hermione responded coolly. Gone was her enthusiasm from her youth.
"Always the Know-It-All, but of course, you are correct, " Snape condescended, his eyes seeming to reflect her own boredom. But Hermione rolled her eyes, growing tired of the Professor's humor at her expense. He was so knowledgeable and she had always craved to learn from him, but it seemed his only joy in life was the misery of others. The game was getting old.
Unfortunately, Professor Snape's eyes glinted with sadism. He had caught her eye roll. "There's no need to become petulant, Granger", he said. Hermione jolted as her widened eyes snapped up to his, "Five points from Gryffindor." Hermione felt fear-induced adrenaline course through her body and her heart sped rapidly.
As nearly indiscernible as it was, Hermione noted his unforgiving and cruel smile. He was enjoying it.
Despite feeling frustrated, Hermione felt her face grow hot under the predatory glare of Professor Snape, her heart pounding away in her ears.
"It's not like the git doesn't deserve it after what he's put me through all these years. I am the one that should be taking away your precious House Points, you bastard", Hermione abruptly thought, emotion rising within her.
Anger spread through her. Hermione held his humorless gaze and shut her Potions book with a loud thump. Until then, the her peers had been trying to focus on their notes and maintain a low profile, but now their attentions were drawn to the exchange. Unusually unaffected by the audience, Hermione stood, palms hitting flat on the desk. She never broke eye contact. His cruel delight was gone, and in it's place, she swore she saw anger. She had his attention now, however unfavorable. She had caught him by surprise, but the ball was in his court now.
"Do your worst", Hermione challenged silently, hearing her heart beat fast in her ears, thrilled by her own uncharacteristic show of defiance. She was the smartest – and no doubt the most mature – witch of her age, she did not take kindly to being patronized.
At her rather inelegant act of rebellion, Snape curled his lip. "Detention tonight, Granger. I expect you immediately after dinner. And because of your disruptive behavior", he gestured to the rest of the class, "there will be an essay due by the end of this week on the uses and dangers of Unicorn blood. No less than three feet. You are dismissed." The professor's lips again curved into that almost imperceptible but grim smile. The class grumbled as they stood to gather their books and quills while Hermione looked down, her hair shielding her face from the glares of her classmates.
Hermione, barely containing a chuckle under the shadow of her fringe, gathered her things and left as well.
"A detention and only three feet? You're getting soft in your old age, Professor", Hermione thought as she strode to her Transfiguration class, schooling her features. "Let the games begin."