A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. Brownie points for all of you! Thank you also to those of you who are reading, but maybe not reviewing. I'm glad that I'm able to reach so many people, both those new to this story and those who read it before. I still sometimes find it hard to believe so many people are reading and enjoying.
If anyone is reading this who also posts at the WIKTT archives, I'm wondering if you can help me with their posting process. Just leave it in a review that you post there, and I'll respond. Or email me at perfumejunky hotmail dot com (without spaces and replacing the dot, obviously).
Disclaimers: Usual disclaimers apply.
Annoying Professor Snape
Chapter 9- Is 'knowing' enough?
Task 13 Tell him that you 'know'. Tap the side of your nose and nod knowingly.
Duration: Every couple weeks
The articles were Owled the following morning by Lavender, who had been 'volunteered' to wake up early and make sure the articles would be delivered at breakfast. By the time the rest of the group was awake, Lavender had returned, smiling mischievously and looking quite Slytherin.
"Well, then," Harry said, grinning at everyone, "shall we go down to breakfast?"
"Let's hurry! I want to be as close to the Head Table as possible!" Parvati said impatiently, making her way towards the portrait hole.
Still laughing, the rest of the group followed her. When they arrived in the Great Hall, they found it was relatively empty yet, save for a few younger students with earlier classes. Sitting closer to the Head Table than they usually were accustomed to, they tried to have a normal conversation without looking at the Head Table too often. Which, for Hermione, was easier said than done.
Hermione had agreed to the bet, the dare, the challenge, the others had proposed, to piss Snape off, ninety-nine different ways. But then, she had surprised even herself by proposing another challenge—to herself. She was going to make the best of this dare. Better than that, she was going to have fun. Yes, she was going to have fun pissing off the dour Potions Master.
She had argued with herself about the pros and cons of this newer and maybe even harder (but definitely more amusing) aspect of The Challenge. It was silly, she reckoned, arguing with herself, but it was something she had always done, and it usually helped her to come to a decision. After an hour of sleeplessness and with her pros and cons getting madder and madder, Hermione had abandoned her argument and simply accepted The Challenge she had made with herself. She hadn't questioned it; in fact, she had forbid herself to do so, telling herself that she needed to stop questioning every little thing and simply do something every once in a while. No thinking, no worrying, no regrets—just doing. And now, in Hermione's opinion, was as good a time as any to start.
Snape swept in to the hall unexpectedly, his robes billowing behind him in a very Snape-like fashion, one, which Hermione was sure, would never work for her. Pity.
The group looked at each other and, except for Lavender, who quickly stifled her giggle (which, Hermione supposed, was hastened by the sharp elbow to the ribs Parvati had so expertly administered), no one said or did anything out of the ordinary.
Snape glared at them anyway.
Finally, after what seemed like ages, the post arrived. A quite normal looking, unobtrusively plain owl dropped the two articles at Snape's table. Snape, looking somewhat perplexed, unfolded the note that read: 'Study these carefully; they contain clues.' He looked around then, he brows knitted in concentration. The group retained their mien of normality, eating and talking as though everything were ordinary. When Snape's sweeping gaze had left them, they kept talking, but continued to look out of the corner of their eyes, waiting for his reaction to the first article.
Unrolling said first article, Snape looked at it impassively. However, a muscle in his jaw seemed to be ticking, though whether it was because he was trying to hold back laughter or because he had been clenching his jaw was hard to tell from their seats. His eyes narrowed, and he tried, unsuccessfully, to inconspicuously finger his hair, looking at it from the corner of his eye. Thinking no one had noticed, when of course the six Gryffindors had, he rubbed his hair, seemingly to check its...greasiness. Hermione barely choked back a laugh.
He read the second article then, leaving his hair alone for the moment, while his lip curled in what could only be disdain. Must be the one about the witches in the sewers, Hermione thought, her own lip curling in dislike, an unlikely rendition of Snape's.
With his wand suddenly in his hand, Snape lit the articles on fire. A great puff of smoke appeared and, when it cleared, the papers were burning quickly. The rest of the professors gave Snape questioning glances but it seemed they found nothing unusual with his behaviour. He ignored the professors and continued to eat his breakfast as though nothing had happened.
It was clearly, to Hermione at any rate, a warning signal to those who had sent the note, though why he thought they were in the Great Hall she was unsure. Well, no, she wasn't actually; Hermione knew that he thought it was them, and his suspicion was, most certainly, not misplaced.
Hermione, of course, planned to disregard the warning. And, she had a feeling that Snape, inexplicably, knew that too.
-99-
Task thirteen came soon after: tap the side of your nose and nod knowingly, telling Snape that you 'know'.
"What do I know?" Hermione asked the group.
"Well, nothing," Harry said. "But Snape doesn't know that."
"Yes, but—" Hermione started, and then closed her mouth. She had made a deal with herself: no thinking, no worrying, no regrets—just doing. "When do I start?" Hermione asked, a smile playing about her lips.
"As soon as possible," Parvati replied, with a smile of her own.
-99-
At the end of an unusually uneventful Potions class, Harry 'accidentally' knocked over Hermione's supply of dried dragon scales, giving Hermione a chance, albeit a very unsubtle one, of attempting task thirteen.
Harry winked at Hermione and, seeing Snape glare at them, bent down to clean up his mess.
"Could you be any clumsier, Potter?" Snape asked, in a deceptively mild tone.
"Sorry, sir," Harry replied, though his tone indicated that he clearly wasn't sorry at all.
"Well, Miss Granger? Are you just going to watch Potter clean that up?"
Ducking her head to hide her blush, Hermione bent down beside Harry and helped him.
"Do it already," Harry whispered to her.
"I will," Hermione whispered back. "On our way out."
Knowing it would look suspicious if Hermione took too long to clean the mess, since most people fled the dungeons once Potions classes were finished, she didn't try to dawdle. The mess finally cleaned, Harry replaced the dragon scales to their rightful shelf, giving Hermione an opportunity to inform Snape that she 'knew'.
"I know," Hermione said, in a rather loud stage whisper. Tapping the side of her nose and hoping she didn't look too silly, she winked at him as well.
"Is there something in your eye, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes.
"No, sir, I'm fine," she said in a normal voice. However, in another loud whisper, she repeated, "I know. Don't worry though," she added, once again tapping her nose, "it's safe."
"What is safe? Your nose? Is that why you're tapping it?" Snape asked, looking genuinely confused. "And what is it you know?"
Wondering if it was worth it to continue, she held back a sigh and said, "It's okay. I know. That's all I can tell you."
"What on earth are you talking about? Are you sure you're quite all right?" Snape asked, sounding more like he wanted Hermione away from him than from any real concern for her.
Harry cleared his throat at that moment, saving Hermione from any more potentially embarrassing comments. Not bothering to answer Snape, Hermione and Harry left the classroom at a brisk walk, Harry fighting to keep his laughter contained and Hermione fighting the urge to slap him.
So, Hermione thought, is that your tactic? You'll ignore me and this game we've got going? So much for your little warning. We'll see how long this lasts. And, ultimately, we'll see just who wins this game.
-99-
Hermione sat in the library with the other Gryffindors, unable to shake the feeling that she was being watched. Looking around the library—again—Hermione tried, unsuccessfully, to find whoever was watching her. Shaking her head and hoping the feeling would go away, Hermione didn't notice the flowing, black robe as it swished out of the library's door; nor did she notice the man who, before disappearing out of sight, sent one, unreadable look towards the Head Girl.
No, Hermione didn't notice. But it didn't escape the notice of the Head Master, who did nothing more than smile enigmatically to himself and send a quick nod to the cat who was perched upon a bookshelf. The Deputy Head Mistress ignored the Head Master, instead looking away from him to study the now empty doorway. When she thought he wasn't looking, Minerva returned the nod.
His smile widening, Albus left the library whistling.
To Be Continued...
