There was a buzzing noise in the room, as if the cookies were done and the oven was proudly announcing its finished product. Not as if detention in the dungeons even remotely compared to cookies. But okay then.
I looked up wearily at Malfoy. "I think the time is over," I muttered softly.
He gave me a Look and wordlessly stood up. Propping himmself up, he smoothed out the invisible wrinkles on his robes. He headed towards the exit, and I solemnly followed suit.
"So," I started. The silence was uncomfortable.
"So," he replied.
I reached the corridor for the Gryffindor dorms and my lips instinctively formed the word 'bye', but the sound did not escape. Malfoy wasn't the type one would exchange farewells with. He understood, and that's all that was neccessary.
Snape strided towards his classroom. The time of Miss Granger's detention was over. She would be gone by now. He doubted she would be hanging around the potions room. Who would? A wave of - what was that - sadness? washed over him, and Snape quickly shook it off.
He looked around. The room was relatively clean. From his robes, he produced a vial of his newly made potion - one that would quickly regrow lost fingernails. He walked briskly towards the hidden potions closet. It was hidden for a reason - inside held rare potions that he did not even have ancedotes for yet. With a tap of his wand, the walls slid open and he was greeted by the familiar site of his precious potions.
But one was missing. Snape's most prized potion - la potion chatoyante as he called it - appropriately named for its glamorous color. But the potion wasn't just for staring at. It had the ability to bond. He hoped Miss Granger hadn't cut herself and bled in the potion. Who knows what would have happened?
&!&!&!&!&!&!&! post hogwarts &!&!&!&!&!&!
Before I knew it, I, Hermione Granger, was a Hogwarts graduate.
I was hired by Fudge as his assistant - secretary to be specific. The pay was satisfactory; enough to equipt my flat with enough designer furniture to make it look like an IKEA model home. I'll admit it, it was snazzy. I was happy. I had no time to find a husband, because I put work as my priority.
My job was to sit importantly in my plush leather chair, with my black horn-rimmed glasses. I occupied the window-framed office infront of Fudge's space. It was an endless day of helping Fudge make important decisions, and filling out his paperwork.
It was the night of February 25, and it was raining. Hard. After the day's frustrating work, I was way too tired to use my beautiful silver kitchenware. I headed towards a snazzy new restaurant named Andria's. I pushed open the doors and shook off my umbrella. It was very crowded. Quite unusual, actually. The tables were all filled up. I felt another gust of wind behind me, but paid no attention, deciding not to take off my warm hood just yet.
The well-dressed waitress walked towards me, also looking past my shoulder.
"There are only 2 seats left," she announced.
"So what's the problem?" I asked irritably.
She stared at me. "The two seats are at the same table." She gestured towards a secluded corner, with just a candle lighting it up. A single red rose stood in a vase in the center.
"Well it's fine, it's only me tonight."
She stared at me as if I were stupid. "Miss - we are incredibly full today. There is a long waiting time, and I'm sure niether of you wants to wait."
What was the woman talking about? I turned around. A tall, slim man stood behind me, dressed in a black suit. He took his hat off. I almost choked on my gum. It was Malfoy.
He smiled an evilish smile. "Why, hello, Granger."
The waitress smiled cheerfully. "Wonderful! I see you two know eachother!" She chirped. Holding two menus in the air, she motioned for us to follow her.
"But I got here before him!" I sputtered.
The waitress didn't seem to hear.
Malfoy mock sighed. "Guess we'll have to dine together, sadly." He didn't sound very sad at all.
"I got here before you," I growled.
"Too bad I'm the head of Stoneridge Inc., huh?" he said cheerfully, following the waitress.
I gaped after him. Stoneridge Inc.? The most successful furniture company in the wizarding world? Every piece of furniture in my flat was from Stoneridge. Perhaps I should start thinking of selling them, if Malfoy was the head of it. I scowled. Anyways, I certainly wasn't going to starve tonight. Fuming, I stomped after him, causing a few old women to look disapprovingly at me.
He seated himself and opened the menu. I sat angrily across from him. Didn't even pull my chair back and seat me, I noted. Very ungentlemanly.
I opened the menu with such force I almost teared the pages.
"Easy there," he snickered.
I gave him a rude hand gesture.
He just smirked. "Last time you did that, it got you detention, remember?"
"Oh who could forget?" I said, rolling my eyes and frowning at the memory of the unpleasant event.
He just smiled amiably.
The waitress stopped by again. "Orders?" She smiled.
"Deep fried halibut with scallops and boiled asparagus, s'il vous plait." He then rattled off about some fancy wine, and the waitress eagerly wrote everything down as if imagining every word to be galleons.
She turned to me expectantly, her quill poised above her paper.
"Um, the same thing, but instead of asparagus, give me red bell peppers," I said hastily. Malfoy liked the same thing as I, apparently. Except for asparagus, of course. That stuff was revolting.
The waitress bounced away.
"I happen to like asparagus," he said conversationally.
"Asparagus is the main food of the spotted dinklemorfs," I began seriously, "And by taking it away from them, we are endangering them. Asparagus is hard to grow these days."
He searched my face for a sign that I might be joking, but found none. He then burst out laughing.
"You... geek!" he gasped.
How offensive.
I flushed and looked away annoyedly, waiting for my food to come. What does he know about spotted dinklemorfs anyway?
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Aha, well that was fun to write. Lalala. There might be typos, I can't type on laptops very well. :( I'll be updating more actively now, I think, because post hogwarts is funner.