A/N: Sorry for such the long wait! :| I appreciate any of yous who are still reading this, thanks. A big thanks once again to my beta, Zelda12343! Please READ and REVIEW! :]
Chapter Four: Detention
Just like I had expected it to, the first week of term was over in a blink of an eye. Draco was still milking his injury for all it was worth. The majority of the Slytherins seemed to have taken to following him around for the past few days, hanging onto the lies that seemed to spill out from his thin mouth over how heroic he had been and how he was from an inch of his life and so lucky to survive. I still do not know how he managed to convince Madam Pomfrey to bandage such a small scrape up for him and not just apply the smallest drop of dittany, which was all I suspected it would have needed, if even that judging by the mere size of it. Unfortunately, the whole spectacle that Malfoy was putting on was affecting Hagrid more than I would have expected. His classes were now the most mundane of all, being that he did nothing but concentrate on flubberworms throughout every class. I suspected he thought himself rather lucky that Dumbledore hadn't suspended him and had decided to draw more caution with the animals he chose for us to study in the future. No one was happy about this but Malfoy and his Slytherin lackeys.
Defence against the Dark Arts was fast becoming one of my favourite subjects after Professor Lupin had decided to make it a much more hands-on class than the following teachers, who thought there to be no need for such nuisance as fun in their class. We had to tackle a Boggart on Thursday. Well, when I say we I mean the majority of the class as I, and a few other stragglers, didn't quite get to tackle our worst fears. I was quite glad of it in a way as Sirius Black was fast becoming one of mine and I didn't fancy him appearing in our DADA classroom, an apparition or not. I would have had no idea how to of made him funny, although I must say Neville managed to make quite the joke out of Snape. I think that the revoltingly funny image of Snape squeezed into one of Neville's grandmothers dresses will stay with me forever, which was rather unfortunate, as that was where I happened to be heading now: the dungeons for my detention.
"Ah, five minutes early, Miss Black. I see you have improved on you punctuality skills since our last meeting, then. Five points from Gryffindor for not arriving when asked," Snape addressed me as I entered the door to the classroom which I normally had potion classes in. It was as cold and damp as the rest of the dungeons now that the humid fumes of potions did not fill the dank room. I thought it fitted Professor Snape's personality quite well. I scowled under my mop of hair as I took a seat at the front of the empty classroom and waited for the git that was Snape to look up from his desk and address me again. I had an inkling that whatever he had planned for me it would not be nice. "It seems that Professor McGonagall has managed to negotiate," he looked me straight in the eyes as he stood from his desk and began making his way towards me, "your detention to a mere two hours." he reached the table I was perched at and I instantly felt myself sink further into the wooden seat, hoping to somehow disappear into it before he decided to speak again. "Although she managed to dwindle your time spent here, I can assure you the punishment will be no less severe."
He stared at me with a hardened gaze, no doubt looking for some sign that I understood my predicament. "Yes-yes sir," I managed to choke out before he strode off over to the store room, his hand flicking towards me, indicating I should follow; which I did in a heartbeat, not wanting to anger him further.
"I imagine that you are capable enough to have these clean by 8 o'clock?" his voice dripped with dislike as he indicated towards a large pile of pewter cauldrons which were covered in a mixture of black to orange gloop. First years, no doubt, as I knew they would have been his last class yesterday. It angered me all the more knowing they had been lying here all night, the potions crusting over and making them even more difficult to clean off, no doubt. I hoped the few cleaning spells I had picked up would be sufficient enough. I wrinkled my nose in distaste as the smell wafted towards me when Snape turned to take his position behind his desk once more, taking the opportunity to pause to make the situation worse. "If you could hand me your wand, Miss Black, as there will be no magic needed." I took the liberty to hand him my wand with my head held high, trying to convey the fact that cleaning all thirty four cauldrons by hand was not daunting in the slightest. "Cleaning equipment and gloves," he mumbled as he waved his own wand before he sat leering at me from his desk, the corners of his lips tilted upwards ever so slightly as if he was enjoying my suffering.
"Here we go, then…" I mumbled under my breath as I dug my hands into a pair of rather large dragon-hide gloves, selected a bottle of Bewitched Cauldron Cleaner from the cleaning pile he had conjured, started scrubbing with all my might with a wire sponge, hoping the time would pass by considerably quickly, and that Professor Snape would cease glaring at me with the hatred-filled eyes I knew too well. He hated all houses but his own, but seemed to have a special hate-filled glare for those who had been sorted into Gryffindor and an even sourer expression for the select few of us who had somehow managed to annoy him further: Harry, Neville and, of course, me among the few. I sighed in frustration again as I attempted to blow some loose strands of hair out of my face, the loose bun I had piled it into spilling out and over my back. I went to push it back with my gloved hands, but hesitated. My hands were seeping in the first years' messed up potions and I didn't exactly know what potion that was supposed to be. I quickly dropped my dragon-hide-covered hands at the thought of it being something horrid. Say, for example, a mild sleeping potion that would cause enlarged boils to appear if not brewed correctly. An exaggerated huff sounded behind me.
"You may stop for a mere second to compose yourself if necessary," Snape's uttered in his usual less-than-cheery voice. "It wouldn't be good for either of us if you happened to get covered in a incorrectly brewed enlarging potion."
Enlarging potion? But that was supposed to be a dark, almost black, green! I looked over the twenty or so cauldrons that were left to clean and spotted that very few were in fact that color, with most being the color of an orangutan. Knowing what the potion was now, I was even less than willing to continue cleaning them. I decided that it would be considerably worse if I refused, though, so I took Snape's advice and took a split second to fix myself before I dove back into scrubbing, my hands already starting to ache from all the exertion.
"I'm all finished," I smiled as I rubbed some sweat that was dripping off the end of my nose. He looked up at me from his desk, and gave me a pointed look. "Sir," I added quickly as an afterthought.
The screeching of his chair echoed around the empty classroom, followed by the ear-deafening thuds of his booted feet, as he insisted on going over to check my work. I glanced at my watch quickly, found that it was half past seven, and I had actually completed the task ahead of his allocated time. He was bent down over the neatly-stacked clean cauldrons, peering into each one individually, no doubt checking for something he could scold me for. He scoffed lightly, before standing up and making his way back over to the numerous unmarked parchments on his desk.
He had obviously accepted that I had made a good enough effort with the cauldrons, but seemed determined not to address me on it all the same. "Sir," I called over to him as I tiptoed over to his desk, very afraid of his reaction to my next question. "Can I go now, since I have finished? Please?"
His quill stopped swishing over a fourth year's homework, as his black eyes met with mine. "I do believe that your detention time was to be until 8 o'clock, Miss Black," he coolly addressed me as his quill started flickering over the parchment once more. "Even if by some trickery you have managed to finish scrubbing the cauldrons earlier than anticipated, you will still be excused at 8pm sharp and not a second earlier." I gulped loudly, which I am sure didn't get missed by Snape, as his tone seemed all the more smug as he added "Is that clear, Miss Black?"
"Y-yes sir," I tried my best not to huff out. I might have been intimidated, but I challenge any thirteen-year-old standing in my position not to be. Snape wasn't exactly renowned for his kind and understanding side. I tentatively took my original seat at the front of the class, closest to his desk as possible so I could plainly see his magical desk clock, which consisted of a small clock face which various hands on it. One clearly said alone time, which I briefly sniggered at, with a charmed muggle addition stating the time. I wasn't staying here a second longer than needed.
The sound of his quill scratching became the only noise echoing around the room again as we fell into an eerie and uncomfortable silence, my eyes darting to everything in the small classroom but the dark figure not too far in front of me. It was the first time since I had started at Hogwarts that I really took a good look around any of the dungeon classrooms. They were dark. Like, really dark. Only a handful of candles hung in each corner of the dank room, and there seemed to be no windows at all in any part of the dungeons. I was surprised how anyone could do anything in this room, let alone brew potions. Snape's desk was littered with numerous parchments, of homework no doubt, and several other less than ordinary objects, like a skull, for example. Small in size, and what I hoped to be most definitely not human. Not that that would make it any less creepy. I shuddered at the thought of it being an unruly student. Shelves upon shelves covered the exposed black stone walls behind him; jars filled with all sorts of nightmarish-looking objects. He had no photos or personal belongings anywhere from what I could see, nothing but his work occupied this room. For some reason, I found that extremely sad. Didn't he have a family? Or friends? Well, probably not. He's not the most charming guy around.
"If you are quite done admiring my work-space, Miss Black, I would like you to assist me in grading the first years' homework until it is time for you to leave."
I jumped in my seat as his voice startled my prying eyes and I made to walk over towards his desk, where a very uncomfortable-looking chair had just been summoned. "I trust you smart enough to mark a few measly first years' essays?"
I perched down in my wooden chair at his side and nodded my head slowly, not too sure if he actually required an answer or not. I was exceedingly good at potions despite having him as a teacher. I was quite taken aback that he obviously agreed with me on my understanding of the subject, as I suspected he would let no other third year, who was a Gryffindor no less, help him mark homework. I concluded that he had no other choice in the matter, however, as he was determined for me to stay until 8pm, his imagination not being able to stretch to a better solution on how to torture me until then.
Minutes passed in silence, as nothing but scratching quills and the sound of mixed shallow breathing graced my ears. I knew it must have been only about quarter to eight, but sitting in this awkward silence was becoming very boring. I could feel his intense gaze on me every so often. No doubt checking my standards of marking was up to scratch. He didn't address me, so I took that as a reluctant sign that they were.
"Sir, why do you hate me?" I murmured, quickly making the situation more awkward as he froze in his seat, his quill floating in mid-air as it hovered over his desk. I immediately scolded myself for blurting out such a stupid question. It was one of my mother's traits that I had just demonstrated; the art of saying whatever pops into your mind without filtering it out first.
He continued writing again as if I had never even asked him anything, and I suddenly felt extremely hurt. He hated me so much he couldn't even bring himself to lie about it. "I'm sorry for asking, sir. I won't ask that question again. It's not important why you hate me so much, sorry I just-"
"-I do not hate any of my students, contrary to popular belief. I merely only dislike those who continue to aggravate me on a daily basis, such as yourself and Mr. Potter," he coolly spoke over my rambling, not lifting his intense gaze from the essay he was marking even for a split second.
Words were fighting behind my lips to escape again and I knew this was not going to end well. "But sir, Harry and I have done nothing wrong to you, in class or otherwise. I always brew my potions correctly and Harry tries his best and succeeds more than others. We don't interrupt your class or aggravate you in the slightest as far as I can see and…" His fists clenched ever so slightly as I continued to ramble on once again. I knew I was really pushing my luck with him, but I just couldn't stop, it was yet another bothersome trait I had inherited from my mother; the ability to slew out words at an unearthly pace.
"Will you shut up, you silly girl!" he suddenly bellowed as his quill and mine clattered to the desk rather loudly before he demanded me to leave. "Get out!"
I was physically shaking and knew that although I didn't deserve to be bellowed at until the point of tears, it was all my fault for pushing my luck and testing one of the most easily annoyed Professors in the school. It was no wonder I had no friends, what with my cursed family name and my inability to hold a conversation for no more than five minutes before I uttered the wrong thing.
"Get out," he demanded, less heatedly now, his hand still clenched tightly but his jaw was visibly unclenched now. I quickly stood from my place beside him, tears gathering in the corner of my eyes, threatening to fall and expose just how upset and terrified I actually was. I paused in my hasty getaway for a second to glance at my wand on his desk, forgotten in all the madness of the past few moments. His eyes suddenly shot up and locked with mine, threatening me to dare ask him for it. I gulped and began moving for the door again, deciding that my wand could wait until morning or Monday at the latest. I just wished I had someone to accompany me, as I was petrified of returning down here all alone.
"What's wrong, Amelia? You have been like this since you have come back after dinner. What's happened?" Hermione's kind tones filtered through the velvet drapes of my four poster bed. It was now 10 o'clock and I had been hiding in my bed since I had come back from my detention almost two hours ago. I couldn't face anyone when I had gotten into the common room, had retreated up to my shared dorm to find Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil gossiping on the latter's bed and found that I couldn't bear to face either of them, either. I then found myself here, hidden under my mounds of covers and behind my drapes. Hermione had been questioning me for what seemed like the good part of an hour, but I had so far refused to answer. I didn't trust my mouth to speak any sense after what happened earlier, and I stupidly thought that if I didn't reply to her questions of concern, she would go away. Very unlikely, considering her bed was next to mine and it was night time. I sighed in resignation and decided she deserved an answer to at least one of her questions after even considering caring for my well-being.
"I had detention with Snape this evening and it ended rather badly…" I murmured through the drapes as I sat up in bed. I hadn't yet taken up Hermione's offer to talk to her about things and I felt that now was the night I needed to the most. Luckily Parvati and Lavender had departed for a more cheery environment to gossip in not long after I had arrived. It figures that the two of them would be more concerned about their ability to gossip than that of their room-mate's well-being. They're nice girls, just… not as caring as Hermione.
"I wouldn't worry too much about it, as we both know what Snape is like," Hermione's voice smiled through the curtains. I knew she was right, but I had never seen him so angry before. He was usually so calm and composed, even when irritated. He had actually flushed red with rage tonight, and I had a suspicion it was something more than simply my questions being extremely annoying and aggravating.
"But you didn't see him, Hermione, he looked like he was going to physically hit me!" I reasoned. "His face was flushed and his fists were clenched. I was petrified…"
I brought my quilt tighter round me as Hermione huffed, "This conversation would be a lot easier, you know, if you would just open the curtains." Soft laughter followed and I began chuckling also at how silly this situation was. We were talking through these drapes like I was giving confession.
I pulled back the rich velvet, revealing a concerned-looking Hermione perching on the edge of her own bed. "You know, you could have just pulled them open yourself an hour ago."
She chuckled slightly as she came over and sat at the foot of my bed. "And risk you hexing me?" I stared at her questioningly for a moment until she decided to offer an explanation. "I heard what you did to Pansy Parkinson on Wednesday."
I laughed loudly as I remembered the look on Pansy's face when I shot her a bogey hex. She had been taunting me rather copiously that day, so soon, I had had enough of it and lost my temper. I didn't regret it in the slightest, though, as she totally deserved it. "Her face was so funny when she realized I had hexed her." My face dropped slightly as I recalled I no longer had my wand in my possession. "I won't be able to do that again any time soon, though, seeing as I don't have my wand…"
Hermione's face turned serious. "Amelia, what happened to your wand?" She looked at me, and somehow, I knew she understood. "He can't just take your wand like that. Wait until McGonagall hears about this, she will-"
"Hermione you can't tell her, he would go mental!" I blurted out, causing her to stop talking and look at me again. "Besides, it was my fault for pushing him to far in the first place."
"What do you mean?" she asked curiously as she scooted slightly closer.
"Well, he had given me the task of cleaning all of the first years' cauldrons from yesterday by hand by 8 o'clock, and-"
"That's ridiculous! He cannot make you do things like that, surely. I really think it would be best if you-"
"Hermione, please let me finish first," I laughed as she nodded in silent agreement and pursed her lips closed with much effort, I presumed. "As I was saying, I was to clean all the cauldrons by hand, so he took my wand from me just in case I would cheat," I huffed as I thought of the absurdness of me even thinking about cheating. "Anyway, I finished earlier than he had expected me to, so he asked me to help him mark some first year essays, and me being stupid, blunt me, I just had to randomly ask him why he hated me so much." Hermione's face looked in utter shock, but I continued, knowing it would be hard to stop now that I had started. "I knew I had pushed him too far the moment the words crossed my lips, but I just had to push him for an answer and started rambling on about how neither Harry nor I has ever did anything to deserve such dislike from him," I cupped my face with my hands. "Why did I have to be such a curious fool, Hermione?"
Silence enveloped us after I had finished and the only human sound was that of my despair-filled breaths coming out heavy and shallow, as the reality of how stupid I had been had finally sunk in. I had questioned Professor 'I hate everyone' Snape on why he specifically hated me! I was a complete idiot. I sighed heavily, knowing Hermione most likely agreed with me on that.
"You didn't really, did you?" she asked tentatively, clearly disbelieving I could actually be that stupid.
"I did" I muttered. "And now, he has my wand, and I have to go back and face him in the morning after humiliating myself like that. He really is terrifying when angry, Hermione. You should warn Harry and Ron not to cross him any time soon in case they have the displeasure of getting blown up at also."
"And what makes you think they would listen to me?" she laughed.
"Because they always listen to you!" I laughed in return, the unease I was feeling lifting slightly from the laughter that now surrounded me.
She gave me a pointed look before placing her hand on mine. "Don't worry about Snape, I will go with you tomorrow to get your wand, and then we can go to the library to study."
I breathed a sigh of relief at those words. As mortifying as it was, I wouldn't have to go face the humility alone. "Thanks, Hermione."
She gave me a soft smile before getting up and going into her own bed, covers wrapped up to her chin instantly. "What are friends for?"
Just then, the dormitory door flew open, revealing a chattering Lavender and Parvati heading for bed. Hermione gave me one more small smile before summoning our drapes shut, leaving me in solitude in my bed once more. Only this time, I wasn't hiding from the people around me, but happy for their presence for once. Hermione Granger thought of me as a friend! I clearly was dreaming.
