Disclaimer:- I didn't invent any of the characters that I am going to use in my story. That honour belongs to J.K.Rowling.

Big apologies to people that have been waiting for the next chapter. It's been too long. It started with a bitof writer's block, then I had exams so its been a bit of a nightmare. But I'm back on track and hopefully the pace of the story will pick up soon.

Thank you for all the lovely reviews so far. Keep doing it :)

Chapter 10 - Extension

Upon reaching the entrance to the dungeon, Snape swept past the crowd of fifth years who cluttered the doorway, waiting to be allowed entry, and went to stand behind his desk, glaring at his students. He watched the students as they bustled in, desperate not to be the last to take their seat, and so earn Snape's disapproval. They eyed him carefully, aware that he had yet to speak a word, which suggested his mood was more sinister than normal. They knew they were in for a torturous hour's work.

When the noise of scraping stools, and the rustling of pages had subsided, Snape cleared his throat, and with a swift flick of his wand, a pile of parchment appeared upon his desk. "These," he said, indicating the scripts, "are your attempts at the essay I set you on the origin and uses of the Bubbling Broth. Every student's script, bar one, was either brief, lacking in information, poorly constructed, badly written or all of the afore mentioned criteria."

He paused menacingly. "Granger!" muttered Draco to Crabbe.

"Malfoy!" snapped Snape," Your paper was not the exception, so I suggest it would be wise if you learnt to keep that mouth of yours closed, and to listen more carefully in lessons. I sure your father would be appalled to hear his son was incapable of passing his OWL Potions. Don't you think?"

Draco didn't answer, but shrunk down in his seat, his face red with shame. Snape remained with his eyes fixed on him for a moment or two longer, before waving his wand, sending the parchments flying back to their respective writers. Hermione looked down at her paper to see a bright red O penned in the top left corner. She glanced upwards and caught the smallest smile upon the Potions Master's face. She quickly went back to her paper, as a rosy flush spread across her cheeks.

Snape waited a second while the class assessed their mark, grumbling to themselves, and then announced that the lesson would involve dictation and note-taking to prepare them for the forthcoming exams. His eyes floated over the inwardly groaning faces of the disgruntled class, before coming to rest on the always-eager Hermione. Inside his mind, he smiled as he saw the attentive look upon her face, as she peered up at him. Her chin resting on her clasped hands.

And so the lesson began. Despite the class' reluctance, each and every student began taking copious notes. They knew that Snape was the kind of man who didn't like to waste his words, or his time. So the chance of this lesson's work appearing in the forthcoming examinations was high.

Time passed, and still the dictation continued. The students' wrists ached, but they couldn't stop writing. Harry and Ron, along with most other members of the class, shot Snape the dirtiest of looks between paragraphs. "How long was he going to make them write for?"

Snape spoke precisely, clipping the ends of his words sharply, emphasising their importance. He didn't work from lesson plans as many teachers chose to do. He'd been here a long time and knew the syllabus like the back of his hand. He enjoyed his profession immensely. He liked the feeling of superiority, feeling far above the students. He enjoyed sharing his knowledge, and felt great pleasure when someone was keen enough to take an actual interest in his subject, rather than just dutifully going through the motions. Someone like Hermione Granger. He smiled to himself, as he paused in his speech to allow the students to catch up with him. Why did her name keep coming into his head? He was behind with his plans. The list beckoned to him to finish this year's worth.

How? That was the question that frustrated him. Howling round and round his mind. How? An exceptionally bright student, she doesn't put a toe out of line. Never hands her work in late. Always a high standard. Always trying to do better, improve beyond her wildest dreams. Be the best…

His eyes glanced down and he read the heading on a piece of parchment that lay on his desk. He smirked. The answer lay right there in front of him. "Extension," he breathed.

He looked back up at his class, as they watched him, waiting for his next words. They needn't have bothered. The school bell clanged up in the tallest tower of Hogwarts, and it's sound echoed around the castle. "Class dismissed," he shouted, and with more scraping of chairs, the pupils hurried out, ready for their break.

Snape sat down in his chair, letting his idea surface and collect, until it lay there, glistening, beautiful and complete. "Stage 1," he murmured to himself.

A draught flew into the dungeon, as the classroom door slammed shut. Snape shivered, and pulled his cloak more tightly around his thin frame. Was it him or was it getting colder? He took up a striking peacock feather quill, and filled in the form that lay on his desk. It only required names, and his signature. He smiled at his brilliance. "Names of students to be put forward for the OWL Potions Extension Paper," he said aloud to himself.

Smiling again, he wrote down Hermione's name, and signed his own underneath.

Laying his quill down, he glimpsed the calendar on the wall. He'd have to be quick; there wasn't much time before the examinations or before…

A dark shadow loomed in the not too distant future. A shadow that no amount of light cast by anyone's spirit could frighten away.