Professor Snape stood outside his classroom and checked his pocket watch again. 8:30. He took a deep breath, reached out towards the door knob, hesitated, and pulled back again. He cursed quietly.
He'd spent the last hour and a half walking around the lake, handing out detentions (with Filch. He wasn't making that mistake again.) to any student who so much as smiled at him. He'd been trying to figure out his plan of action, and he still didn't know what to do. This wasn't something he had to deal with every day. His appearance, personality and reputation made sure of that.
Again, he reached for the door knob and hesitated. He stared at the door, frowning, and trying to sum up his courage.
He moved to grab the handle, but suddenly, it was gone, and he found himself holding the front of a very surprised looking Hermione's robes.
He let go quickly and cleared his throat. She stared at him, wide-eyed, lips slightly parted.
"Sir!" She said, after an excruciatingly embarrassing silence, "I didn't think you were coming. I thought you'd forgotten. I was coming to look for you."
Hermione mentally scolded herself for not taking a Blushing Bon-Bon before she left the classroom, but realised she didn't actually need one.
"Yes, well," Snape said, releasing her, "I'm here now. Get inside."
She turned suddenly. Her hair flicked up around her, and brushed past Snape's face. He spluttered and rubbed his nose furiously.
"Really," He said, frowning at her back as she entered the classroom, "You're hair is out of control."
He swept past her and stood behind his desk. She looked for a moment, then smiled,
"I'll change it, for you Sir, if you really want."
He frowned at her.
"Cauldrons." He said, flicking his wand at the far corner of the class, where a dozen huge cast iron cauldrons, a bucket of soapy water and, Ugh, thought Hermione, a toothbrush, had appeared.
She looked back at Snape, who'd sat down behind his desk and began marking.
"You're kidding!" She cried.
"Am I, Miss Granger?" He said, raising an eye brow at her. She stared at him in disbelief.
"You're not." She said, pouting. He smirked.
"I expect to be able to see myself reflected perfectly in them by the time you are finished." And with that, he bent his head back over his desk.
Hermione bit her lip, fighting back the urge to point out that she could scrub the cauldrons for days, and he still wouldn't be able to see his reflection in them.
She huffed loudly and got to work.
AN: At last! Another chapter! And the next one will be up soon! Actually, it might be up tomorrow because tomorrow I'm wagging school (Shhhh… Don't tell anyone!) and me and my mates are all going to have a picnic (hahaha) so I might right the next one then. Are you guys excited?
Sorry this one was so uneventful. And short. Again.