Anyway. I don't know where to go from here. Should I just let time pass extremely quickly and write that contest? Or should I describe those boring trainings some more... *yawn* No, I probably should do something more with Remus. Some distraction. Hey... *gets an idea that has actually got nothing to do with Remus but is fun anyway* This probably is the first time I get an idea out of writing Author Notes.
This chapter is dedicated to everyone who put me in their fave list...? You make me feel so loved. *gets kicked* No, but really, I was just looking at that stats section, and looked at the people who had me in their fave lists, and I got filled with joy and peace and happiness and hyperness and goodness, and then I forced myself to write this chapter.
I'm sorry those author notes are
so long and filled with nonsense... I just missed you guys so much! *wipes
away tears* It's been nearly two whole weeks since I last updated! *starts
weeping uncontrollably*
The Perfectionist
By Mykerinos
Chapter Nine: Enough!
"That man is impossible!"
Hermione exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the sky in frustration as
she came rushing into Ginny's dormitory a few days later. She had just
returned from the Quidditch field, which had been cold and dark and wet,
but that wasn't the reason for her complaining.
The other girls sleeping in the room
gave annoyed groans as Hermione snapped on the light. She walked over to
Ginny's bed. "Ginny? Ginny, are you sleeping?"
Ginny's freckled head popped up from
under the blankets. "Not anymore..." she mumbled sleepily.
"Then come with me to the common
room," Hermione lowered her voice. "I don't want to disturb your dorm mates,"
she said, looking around her and receiving nothing but angry glances.
Reluctantly Ginny pushed her blankets
away, and stepped out of her bed. Quickly turning the light off again,
they went to the Common Room, where the fire crackled, greeting them warmly.
"What time is it, 'Mione?" Ginny
asked, falling down in a chair and squeezing her eyes against the light
the fire gave.
"5 am, so you were supposed to get
up soon anyway," Hermione smiled.
"Eh, not quite..." Ginny groaned.
"I usually get up round 7... You'd better have a good excuse for waking
me so early!"
"I have!" Hermione said, turning
angry again. "Snape is just... so demanding!" She tried to ignore Ginny's
didn't-I-say-so look. "He's been commanding me since the very beginning,
but now he's just... I am not the right person to fly, Ginny, for Merlin's
sake, I know I don't look elegant on a broom, and I know I can't do any
leaps and pirouettes! But when Snape glares at me like that, I feel like
I have no choice, so I try... And if I fail, he gets all angry, and if
I manage to succeed, he glares at me anyway! It's hopeless.
"And not just that, but also the
ridiculous time I need to practice... 4 am isn't a very normal time! I
can barely get any sleep, and that's showing in my test results! Last Arithmancy
test I only had 197 out of 200 correct!"
Ginny had almost fallen asleep again,
but now did her best to open her eyes. "But if you don't like it, 'Mione,
then why don't you just tell him? Surely you are both old enough to talk
it out? And if you are sure you want to stop, then that really is your
choice!" she said drowsily, hoping that if she'd give her friend some good
advice she'd let her go back to bed again.
Obviously it worked.
Hermione was quiet for some time,
thinking about Ginny's words. "Perhaps you're right... Yea, I should probably
just tell him... Yea, I'll just do that. Thanks, Ginny," Hermione smiled.
She stood up, and went to her dormitory.
Ginny sighed, almost sleeping already.
There was no point in returning to her bed. This chair would do fine.
- -- - -- - -- -
The next night, however, Hermione
lost all her courage to say what she wanted as soon as she saw Snape. He
seemed very annoyed already, but she forced herself to greet him anyway.
"Good... night, Professor," she said
hesitatingly.
Snape narrowed his eyes suspiciously
at her. "Good night," he responded coolly, and Hermione suddenly felt very
little. How could she have even thought she could ask him to treat her
with some more respect? Him, the most feared and most loathed Professor
on Hogwarts? The only ones he paid respect to were... well, Voldemort and
Dumbledore, maybe?
So who did she think she was, really?
Without Hermione saying a thing at
all, she and Snape started that night's practice.
Believe it or not, but Hermione had
actually gained experience on a broom, despite her disliking towards it
all. They had been practicing only for a week or so, but the trainings
had been very intense, and Hermione could already do a back flip and some
corkscrew-move fluently.
In her and anybody else's opinion,
at least.
"Since you still can't manage to
do that back flip the way it is ought to be done, you'll be practicing
it again this time," Snape said, shooting a stern look into Hermione's
direction. She could feel herself shrinking in front of him.
They stared at each other for some
time, Hermione waiting for a sign to begin, Snape waiting for her to take
off into the sky. It was awkward, and nobody moved.
"Oh," Hermione then said, not quite
knowing what to do, and then stumbled on her broom and hastily took off.
Snape followed soon after.
Concentrating as well as she could,
Hermione pulled the top of the broom towards, not slowly as in the beginning,
but fast, causing her to make a wonderful back flip. She looked up at Snape.
"Well, what are you looking at?"
he snapped. "Try again!"
Sighing, Hermione did another flip.
And another one. And another. And another. Between the flips she constantly
glanced up at Snape, waiting for any sign of approval. None was shown.
Frustrated by this, and also a bit dizzy, Hermione stopped.
"What is wrong with it then?"
she asked desperately.
"Everything! You look like some clumsy
Bowtruckle that's clinging to its tree like it's scared to fell off!" he
answered, filling Hermione with indignation.
"Excuse me?" she asked, feeling too
offended to say anything else at that moment.
Snape flew over to her, obviously
exasperated by this all. "Listen girl! I'm planning to win this contest--"
"And I'm planning to do my best!"
Hermione retorted, feeling tears starting to make her eyes wet. "And that's
all I can ever do! And if that's not enough, then..."
Afraid she'd start crying in front
of her professor, she turned her broom away and flew back to the ground
as fast as she could. Throwing the damned broom on the ground, she ran
back to the castle.
Well, she took back everything nice
she had ever said about the professor.
TBC