The Perfectionist
By Mykerinos
Chapter Four: Oops.
"Well, did he ask??" McGonagall said,
almost exploding out of enthusiasm. Her eyes were all gleaming, and her
lips were pressed together like she was afraid to burst out in enormous
laughter. Hermione gave her a weird look. She had never seen the Head of
her House acting so strange.
"Who asked what?" she asked surprised.
"Severus, of course!" McGonagall
almost jumped up and down. "He did ask you about the contest, didn't he?"
Hermione felt a limb in her throat.
What was this?? Was McGonagall in it too? Hermione yelped.
"Oh, er, yes, he did," reacted
a dazed Hermione. "But how would you know?"
McGonagall suddenly turned very serious
again, and she closed the distance between the two of them. "Listen, Hermione,
this is very important. You must answer the question I'm going to ask you
with complete honesty, do you understand? I want you tell me
exactly
how he asked you, and don't leave out any details!"
Hermione felt like a small child
being questioned over some murder. And now she was being asked... what
had
exactly happened, anyway?
"I don't know," she frowned. "He
just... told me, I guess,"
"But how, child, think!" McGonagall
exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration.
"I am thinking!" Hermione
yelled back, all this weirdness making her bloody nervous.
"Think harder!" McGonagall sighed.
The room fell silent. McGonagall
was waiting for Hermione to answer, who was just thinking very hard to
recall the conversation. About 30 seconds later, she remembered something.
"He just... asked if I knew about
the contest, and I said yes, and then he only said, 'okay, then that's
a deal', and told me to leave," she finished, and looked up at the professor
to see if her answer was approved. The woman gave a slow nod.
"Well, alright then. You can go Hermione,"
McGonagall said absent-mindedly, walking over to her desk and grabbing
an quill and a piece of parchment.
Hermione raised on her feet, and
quietly left the office. She looked into some mirror. Her cheeks and nose
were all red. Returning to the Gryffindor common room, she gave a loud
sigh. Why was everybody acting so weird lately?
Next day, Hermione got a letter,
only saying, "Quidditch field, at 4. SS."
Assuming he meant 4 pm, she folded
the letter away.
- -- - -- - -- -
A few minutes before 4 am, Severus
Snape arrived at the cold Quidditch Field. It was dark, and soft raindrops
fell down on Severus' black cloak. He threw the two brooms on the ground,
and leaned against the gate, staring at the castle in front of him.
He had to win this game. Now that
he was in this stupid contest, he had to win it, at any cost. Just to get
back at Remus. He smiled at himself, picturing how Remus' usual shining
face would twitch at the sight of him being victorious. Haha, he would
feel so bad he wouldn't show himself for some days.
But it wouldn't be easy, he certainly
had to practice for it. And the girl, too! Damn it, where was she?
Severus saw 15 minutes had past already,
and the girl still wasn't here. Growing more annoyed and getting wetter
with every minute that went by, his frustration reached his maximum after
half an hour of waiting. He was soaked, and grabbing the brooms, he left
the field, promising himself he'd make Granger feel sorry later.
TBC