One Young Heart
Chapter 4: Snape's Feet
Three weeks passed. Hermione cleaned, organized, tested potions under Snape's watchful eye, helped Neville, tried to keep Ron and Malfoy from terrorizing first years with their prefect badges, and applied herself to learning every imaginable thing about healing and self-defense. The complete and total lack of a DADA teacher failed to remove the enthusiasm of those who had once formed Dumbledore's Army, and they studied patiently every day.
It had been a hard week of studies, and accidentally being turned into Cho Chang by Harry in transfiguration hadn't helped much. After McGonagall had led her and Harry to the hospital wing, past a Cho very surprised to see herself walk past in the other direction, Hermione snapped "Really, Harry, couldn't you forget your love troubles long enough to attend class?" and received hearty recriminations for "scaring poor sweet Cho!"
Like it was my fault. Really, men were impossible, she fumed as she followed Harry to the lunch room, newly de-Chang'ed. "Well, where have you jerks been all day?" Glowered Ron, his overlarge body hunched over the table. Harry rolled his eyes and left, while Hermione said "Hi Ron, how's your day been?" with false cheer "Hideous." sulked Ron, and left.
Four o'clock, and Hermione ran down the dungeon corridor at full speed , slammed into the Potions classroom, and gasped "Sorry, professor, since we don't have Potions today I forgot to come," thinking "Please don't kill me".
Nothing.
"Professor?"
Nothing.
Had he left? Where would he have gone? He was hardly a social man, and unlikely to miss the chance of telling her off. Raising her voice slightly, she called "Professor Snape? are you here?"
It was then that she heard a low groan from a corner in the back of the room. Going to it, she saw a door and steps that had never been there before. Probably the entrance to Snape's rooms, but she was distracted by the feet protruding from the room, feet that lay in a spreading pool of blood.
Snape's feet, Snape's voice, groaning as he lay prone.
Chapter 4: Snape's Feet
Three weeks passed. Hermione cleaned, organized, tested potions under Snape's watchful eye, helped Neville, tried to keep Ron and Malfoy from terrorizing first years with their prefect badges, and applied herself to learning every imaginable thing about healing and self-defense. The complete and total lack of a DADA teacher failed to remove the enthusiasm of those who had once formed Dumbledore's Army, and they studied patiently every day.
It had been a hard week of studies, and accidentally being turned into Cho Chang by Harry in transfiguration hadn't helped much. After McGonagall had led her and Harry to the hospital wing, past a Cho very surprised to see herself walk past in the other direction, Hermione snapped "Really, Harry, couldn't you forget your love troubles long enough to attend class?" and received hearty recriminations for "scaring poor sweet Cho!"
Like it was my fault. Really, men were impossible, she fumed as she followed Harry to the lunch room, newly de-Chang'ed. "Well, where have you jerks been all day?" Glowered Ron, his overlarge body hunched over the table. Harry rolled his eyes and left, while Hermione said "Hi Ron, how's your day been?" with false cheer "Hideous." sulked Ron, and left.
Four o'clock, and Hermione ran down the dungeon corridor at full speed , slammed into the Potions classroom, and gasped "Sorry, professor, since we don't have Potions today I forgot to come," thinking "Please don't kill me".
Nothing.
"Professor?"
Nothing.
Had he left? Where would he have gone? He was hardly a social man, and unlikely to miss the chance of telling her off. Raising her voice slightly, she called "Professor Snape? are you here?"
It was then that she heard a low groan from a corner in the back of the room. Going to it, she saw a door and steps that had never been there before. Probably the entrance to Snape's rooms, but she was distracted by the feet protruding from the room, feet that lay in a spreading pool of blood.
Snape's feet, Snape's voice, groaning as he lay prone.