All along,

I tried to pretend it didn't matter.

If I was alone.

-Better Than I Know Myself, Adam Lambert.


Chapter 8-Detention Part 3.

Night 8-Tuesday.

Snape was sure of it now, Hermione Granger was playing games with him.

After her first few detentions he began to realize he was going to have to find other things for her to do. Unlike the wizarding children she was not unfamiliar with doing things without magic, which was not surprising considering she was a muggle-born and had most likely done similar tasks like helping cook dinner or cleaning up afterwords when she was at home. Most of the time when he had to punish muggle raised children, like herself, he would have them writing lines or cleaning something even a muggle raised child would find torturous to clean up.

He had abandoned even attempting the written lines from the beginning; knowing Granger she would have enjoyed that far more than anything else he could think up. So he had gone with plan 'B' and put her in charge of processing some of his less than pleasant ingredients, things did not go as planned. The first attempt with the frogs had been an utter failure, he had known she was not a squeamish girl like some of the others he had seen in his classes who could barely handle the animal ingredients that were needed for brewing without turning green, but he had not expected her to be so familiar with the process of dissecting the creatures. Rather than taking two sessions to get the supply he had provided done, it only had taken her half the evening. He realized then that he was going to have to rethink his plan.

So on her next session he had given her something to process that was sure to keep her occupied, The blood lotus plant's unique aroma tended to cause hallucinations and made one very suggestible when exposed to a large quantity; but in small amounts he had obtained it had a similar effect to being slightly drunk. The aroma from the plant he had selected was not toxic even if she failed to handle it correctly, so he had decided to see how much she had retained from the previous years class and give her some practical experience with dealing with the raw plant. And if he got to deduct points for whatever trouble she got into while under the influence of the scent, all the better.

Once again things did not go as planned; she made it through the plants in such an efficient time that he began to wonder if the aroma had effected her at all as she began rambling about some muggle book she had been quoting about lions and witches. It seemed like something the Gryfindor would think was a good read. That was until he removed the melted cauldron she had been chipping steadily away at and sent her back to her dorm and she proceeded to giggle at him. He had seen his students do many things; cry, whimper, glare and even faint from terror on the odd occasion but he had never had one of his students giggle while in his presence much less at him.

After that day he had kept the ingredients he was giving her to work with simple and by the end of the week all his supplies where fully stocked and labeled. Then he moved her on to more menial tasks like cleaning out his supply cupboards and cataloging what he had.

She was still at this task into her second week of detention and he just knew that she was up to something, like a sixth sense that had come from years of dealing with trouble-making children; he just wasn't entirely sure what it was. He had not caught her doing anything, but it was not hard to notice the satisfied smile on her face when he was forced to let her leave early. When he had come up with tasks that kept her occupied longer she would begin doing other things, like the humming from last Friday. She seemed to know when he was beginning to loose patients, because she would stop whatever she was doing before he could even move to confront her. Then would wait until he was preoccupied with his current task before starting up with her distraction again.

Glancing up at the clock he noted it was after curfew. Gathering his graded papers he stacked them to one side of his desk before heading into the classroom from his office.

Walking into the class he scanned the room for his target, "Granger," he said coming up behind her. The fourteen year old was seated on a stool in front of one of his storage cupboards writing on a piece of parchment, she seemed to be entirely absorbed in her task, having not heard his approach. She was flicking the feathery tip of the quill back and forth across her chin as she paused; glancing up at the contents of the cupboard, before jotting something on her paper. Sighing, she rubbed at her eyes tiredly with the back of her hand, looking down sharply only to realize too late there had been a stray splotch of ink there. She gave the black smudges marking her skin an irritated glare before setting her parchment and quill on a table, sliding off the stool and looking around for something when she caught sight of the Potion's Master standing nearby expectantly.

She straightened up at the sight of him, "Sorry I didn't see you there, Professor." She said rubbing at the smudge of ink on her cheek, only managing to smear it further; black ink trailing across her cheek to her jaw.

Snape scowled at what he was to do next. "Gather your things it's past curfew, I will accompany you to your dormitory."

"Oh you don't have to. I can make it on my own." She said stoppering her ink bottle and closing up the cupboard.

"I will not be your excuse if you are caught out after curfew, now come along." He said folding his arms in his robe as Hermione slipped the strap of her bag over her shoulder. He led her out of the classroom, extinguishing the lights before locking the door.

They walked in silence through the quiet corridors of the castle, Hermione still rubbing absentmindedly at the ink on her hand and cheek. She was brought up short when a square of fabric was shoved in her face. She glanced up at Snape who continued to look ahead, that ever present scowl on his face.

"Thank you," she said taking the handkerchief and cleaning the ink off her before offering it back. Snape took it without a word tucking the stained piece of fabric back in his pocket.

Arriving at the Gryfindor common room Hermione muttered the password before climbing in.

"Good night Sir." She said before the portrait closed. Snape stood there for a moment before shaking his head, turning on his heel and stalking off. He had patrol that evening after all, no reason to linger.