WARNING: This story is rated R (just to be safe) for language and sexual
content.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other Potterverse characters. They are owned by JK Rowling.
DeAndry Harris, along with the story, though, are mine. Read but do not hurt.
Timeline: During POA
Anyway, enough of that mumbo jumbo crap, I hope you like! And please review!!!
* * *
DeAndry received the notice for her detention at breakfast. A large hawk owl arrived with the rest of the crowd for the morning mail. It dropped a small folded piece of parchment onto her plate.
Opening it, she read:
Miss Harris, your detention will be served at eight o'clock sharp this evening in the potions room. Do not be late.
The neat, thin writing was that of Professor Snape.
Staring down at the parchment, she sighed loudly.
"What did you get, English?" George leaned over to look at her paper.
"Her detention notice, I would guess ." Fred said, stretching to see over his twin.
"Yeah," DeAndry said bleakly as she tossed the parchment aside.
*****
Eight o'clock came around quickly. DeAndry left the warm comfort of the Gryffindor common room and trudged toward the cold of the dungeons. Snape was already waiting in the Potions room.
"I said eight o'clock," Snape said without looking up from his book as DeAndry entered the room.
She looked down at her watch. "It is eight."
"You're three minutes late."
"Actually . by my watch, I'm thirty seconds early," she said in a snotty tone.
Snape just glared at her over the pages of his book.
As his eyes dropped back to his book, he spoke. "You will turn all of the desks, chairs, and shelves to face the North."
"And what's the point of that?"
"Amusement," Snape said turning another page in his book.
"I'm not very amused."
"Not your amusement, mine."
Knowing that there was nothing she could do, she decided to get the punishment over with. Discarding her robes, she began to push the chairs away from the desks in jeans and a white tee-shirt.
Snape moaned an approval under his breath as she bent over to push the corner of one of the desks. He tried desperately to keep his attention on his book, but was having difficulty with the distraction of DeAndry's movements in her confining denim.
"Okay," DeAndry spoke to herself. "These are a little bit on the heavy side." The legs of the desk scratched noisily alone the stone floor, forcing a shutter from Snape.
Knowing that the scraping was getting on his nerves, DeAndry continued to drag every bit of furniture along the stone, making as much noise as possible.
"Why do they call you English?" Snape asked raising his voice over the screeching after a little more than half the desks were moved.
To Snape's relief, DeAndry stopped pushing the heavy desk and looked up, very surprised by Snape's question. "The Weasley twins?"
"Yes. They've called you that since their first year here."
"I guess because I'm the only one here who's not English." Snape gave her a funny look. "Don't ask me, Fred and George reasoning. But at least I'll always know who's talking to me." She hoisted herself onto the desk and let her feet dangle over the edge.
"How so?"
"Like if someone called me 'DeAndry', I would know it's either someone who doesn't know me very well, or someone who's very close to me, like Dumbledore. If they called me 'Miss Harris', I would know it was a professor, like you. And if they call me 'English', it's either George or Fred."
Snape stared at DeAndry for a long moment, silent. DeAndry couldn't recognize the emotion behind the look, but it faded abruptly.
"Do you think you've had enough punishment?"
DeAndry smiled at the idea of the end of her labor.
"I do," she said sweetly.
With a nasty smile he raised an eyebrow. "I don't."
DeAndry scoffed. "I am not doing this anymore."
"I don't believe you have a choice."
DeAndry scoffed and shot Snape a nasty look.
"Why are you so insubordinate?" shot Snape.
"Why are you so vindictive?" she spat back at him.
"You aren't afraid of me, are you?"
"Do I look like I'm afraid of you?"
"You should be."
"You can do anything to me."
Snape raised his eyebrows as if challenging her. "Finish it!" he ordered.
DeAndry wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at her professor.
"That was mature," Snape said under his breath and he went back to his book.
DeAndry, reluctant as she was, went back to rearranging the room. She got every piece of furniture, including the large bookcases, turned toward the north side of the dungeon.
"There! Are you happy now?" DeAndry asked, frustrated, hot, and sweaty.
Snape put his book down on his desk and stood. He stalked across the room to the new front of the classroom.
After a long moment of surveying the new arrangement, he spoke. "The back desk isn't lined up, that bookshelf is crooked and the books on the end are in disarray, and you still haven't moved my desk." Snape was amused at the look on her face. DeAndry looked as if she could have killed him. But to his great amazement, she took a few deep breaths and physically calmed herself.
"No. It's almost midnight and I am exhausted. I am not doing any more work," she stated defiantly.
Snape knew she was right. She had been working all night, and had done a very good job at that-which he would never admit. But she had to be punished, he reasoned with himself, even if he did just wanted her company.
"Then tomorrow."
DeAndry gritted her teeth and grabbed her robes. "Fine!" she yelled at him and stormed out of the room.
As soon as the sound of her shoes running up the stairs was gone he slumped down into his chair massaging the bridge of his nose.
"What am I doing?"
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other Potterverse characters. They are owned by JK Rowling.
DeAndry Harris, along with the story, though, are mine. Read but do not hurt.
Timeline: During POA
Anyway, enough of that mumbo jumbo crap, I hope you like! And please review!!!
* * *
DeAndry received the notice for her detention at breakfast. A large hawk owl arrived with the rest of the crowd for the morning mail. It dropped a small folded piece of parchment onto her plate.
Opening it, she read:
Miss Harris, your detention will be served at eight o'clock sharp this evening in the potions room. Do not be late.
The neat, thin writing was that of Professor Snape.
Staring down at the parchment, she sighed loudly.
"What did you get, English?" George leaned over to look at her paper.
"Her detention notice, I would guess ." Fred said, stretching to see over his twin.
"Yeah," DeAndry said bleakly as she tossed the parchment aside.
*****
Eight o'clock came around quickly. DeAndry left the warm comfort of the Gryffindor common room and trudged toward the cold of the dungeons. Snape was already waiting in the Potions room.
"I said eight o'clock," Snape said without looking up from his book as DeAndry entered the room.
She looked down at her watch. "It is eight."
"You're three minutes late."
"Actually . by my watch, I'm thirty seconds early," she said in a snotty tone.
Snape just glared at her over the pages of his book.
As his eyes dropped back to his book, he spoke. "You will turn all of the desks, chairs, and shelves to face the North."
"And what's the point of that?"
"Amusement," Snape said turning another page in his book.
"I'm not very amused."
"Not your amusement, mine."
Knowing that there was nothing she could do, she decided to get the punishment over with. Discarding her robes, she began to push the chairs away from the desks in jeans and a white tee-shirt.
Snape moaned an approval under his breath as she bent over to push the corner of one of the desks. He tried desperately to keep his attention on his book, but was having difficulty with the distraction of DeAndry's movements in her confining denim.
"Okay," DeAndry spoke to herself. "These are a little bit on the heavy side." The legs of the desk scratched noisily alone the stone floor, forcing a shutter from Snape.
Knowing that the scraping was getting on his nerves, DeAndry continued to drag every bit of furniture along the stone, making as much noise as possible.
"Why do they call you English?" Snape asked raising his voice over the screeching after a little more than half the desks were moved.
To Snape's relief, DeAndry stopped pushing the heavy desk and looked up, very surprised by Snape's question. "The Weasley twins?"
"Yes. They've called you that since their first year here."
"I guess because I'm the only one here who's not English." Snape gave her a funny look. "Don't ask me, Fred and George reasoning. But at least I'll always know who's talking to me." She hoisted herself onto the desk and let her feet dangle over the edge.
"How so?"
"Like if someone called me 'DeAndry', I would know it's either someone who doesn't know me very well, or someone who's very close to me, like Dumbledore. If they called me 'Miss Harris', I would know it was a professor, like you. And if they call me 'English', it's either George or Fred."
Snape stared at DeAndry for a long moment, silent. DeAndry couldn't recognize the emotion behind the look, but it faded abruptly.
"Do you think you've had enough punishment?"
DeAndry smiled at the idea of the end of her labor.
"I do," she said sweetly.
With a nasty smile he raised an eyebrow. "I don't."
DeAndry scoffed. "I am not doing this anymore."
"I don't believe you have a choice."
DeAndry scoffed and shot Snape a nasty look.
"Why are you so insubordinate?" shot Snape.
"Why are you so vindictive?" she spat back at him.
"You aren't afraid of me, are you?"
"Do I look like I'm afraid of you?"
"You should be."
"You can do anything to me."
Snape raised his eyebrows as if challenging her. "Finish it!" he ordered.
DeAndry wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at her professor.
"That was mature," Snape said under his breath and he went back to his book.
DeAndry, reluctant as she was, went back to rearranging the room. She got every piece of furniture, including the large bookcases, turned toward the north side of the dungeon.
"There! Are you happy now?" DeAndry asked, frustrated, hot, and sweaty.
Snape put his book down on his desk and stood. He stalked across the room to the new front of the classroom.
After a long moment of surveying the new arrangement, he spoke. "The back desk isn't lined up, that bookshelf is crooked and the books on the end are in disarray, and you still haven't moved my desk." Snape was amused at the look on her face. DeAndry looked as if she could have killed him. But to his great amazement, she took a few deep breaths and physically calmed herself.
"No. It's almost midnight and I am exhausted. I am not doing any more work," she stated defiantly.
Snape knew she was right. She had been working all night, and had done a very good job at that-which he would never admit. But she had to be punished, he reasoned with himself, even if he did just wanted her company.
"Then tomorrow."
DeAndry gritted her teeth and grabbed her robes. "Fine!" she yelled at him and stormed out of the room.
As soon as the sound of her shoes running up the stairs was gone he slumped down into his chair massaging the bridge of his nose.
"What am I doing?"