As Hermione went about her day, she had a remarkably hard time getting Snape's insult out of her head. It was completely unacceptable for a teacher to believe Hermione capable of flippancy when it came to her education. She had come back for her seventh year, after all. Doesn't that say something about her attitude concerning her schooling? And even after having saved Snape at the Shrieking Shack, still he doubted her character. Perhaps I just need to prove it to him. Yes, I need to prove to Professor Snape that I care about his class. But how? For starters I suppose I can complete the assigned homework. I'll do better than that. I'll do twice as much as what he's asked. Hermione began her march to the library, full of purpose.
"Miss Granger, wandering the halls rather than doing her schoolwork. How surprising." Snape's mocking voice rang out from directly in front of her. She jumped, looking up into the deep black eyes of her teacher.
"I'm on my way to the library to do just that, I'll have you know," she proclaimed indignantly.
"I'm sure. While you're in the library, perhaps you can read up about how to pay attention in class."
And with that, Hermione stepped around him, rushing away before he could see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. I really must show him I care.
It was morning, and Snape looked down at the stacks of students' essays before him. Surely grading could wait until after breakfast. But then again, the first stack was due to be returned to the students in the first class of the day. Oh, well. Best to get started before I convince myself otherwise.
Several essays into the third stack, he picked up one scroll that seemed to be particularly long. Particularly long is an understatement. This is massive. He groaned. This wasn't going to be fun. Snape glanced at the name at the top of the parchment. Oh, of course. Miss Hermione Granger. As if her essays weren't long enough before, now it's as if she has something to prove to me. He frowned. What if she does?
Shaking his head, he grimaced. He never would understand that girl. Or perhaps he understood her better than he knew.
Hermione's next Potions class was almost painful. Snape seemed to have singled her out as his new favorite subject of ridicule. She raised her hand to every question, had every answer, brewed her potion perfectly. Why isn't this enough? Why is he still so convinced that I'm a poor student?
The class was equally painful for Snape. She must think she wasn't annoying enough before. It's the only logical explanation for why Miss Granger seems so determined to waste the entirety of the class with her hand waving.
"What is the correct usage of Buttergrub Wing when attempting to create a healing potion base?" Before he had even finished phrasing his question to the class, Hermione's hand was in the air. "Miss Granger, I do not recall asking you to flail about. Five points from Gryffindor for disrupting the class. Now, does anyone have an answer?" Hermione's hand waved more desperately as she tried to indicate to her professor that she knew the answer. "Miss Granger, put your hand down. Another five points from Gryffindor."
"But sir! I'm know the ans-"
"Detention, Miss Granger. Now will you be so kind as to let the class continue?" Hermione glowered at him, hunched over in defeat. How can he be so cruel? Surely it's obvious that I'm just trying to answer his question! Does he really think me so incapable of contributing to the class?
The rest of the class passed uneventfully, with the exception of one very upset Miss Granger who growled her way through her brewing.