Monsters

III.

Few things thrilled Snape less than time with Potter. Yet, oddly, armed with the plan he had devised during the third-years' classes, he found himself eagerly anticipating this detention.

He hoped they wouldn't be late.

Surely enough, no sooner had he sat down behind the heavy old desk in his office than Potter and Weasley arrived at his door. His nostrils twitched as he picked up the scrolls and quills he'd prepared for the occasion.

"Enter," he said. "Mr. Potter; Mr. Weasley--I hope you are well this afternoon?"

Both Harry and Ron swallowed. There was something about him that was particularly unsettling, and coupled to his oft-expressed hatred for Harry, this something had them shaking in their robes. Worse, neither one of them had seen Hermione since Herbology, and she was not known to skive off any class, much less an entire afternoon.

"Please have a seat," Snape growled, letting his hair hang once again in greasy hanks in front of his face.

The boys did as they were told.

"I am giving you each a quill and a scroll. You will complete the assignment I give to you, and may only leave once it has been completed. The same assignment will be given to any other member of your house who treats my class as a battle arena for pathetic grudges, or is otherwise disrespectful. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," they said in unison, exchanging looks. Neither was particularly trusting of Snape.

"You are to write down in their entirety the events leading to and including this morning's dispute with Miss Hermione Granger. Include no extraneous details; I have no desire to read about your unrequited affections."

Ron turned deep red.

"When you are done, you will give a title to this assignment, and add the following: 'Written during detention with Professor Snape'."

Both boys raised their eyebrows, but Snape was no longer looking at either of them. Instead, he was watching out his window.

Feeling very awkward, Ron looked down at the quill in his hand. Snape hadn't given them any ink. What were they supposed to write it down with? He peeked over at Harry, who likewise was staring at the quill with a scowl on his face. This couldn't be another one of Umbridge's old quills, could it? Ron looked back at the scroll and sighed. There wasn't any choice but to do what he'd been told. He set the edge of the quill down on the paper and began to write.

"It all started when Hermione..."

Ron stopped and looked down at his writing. The ink that had appeared was a soft silver colour, like liquid metal. A fine mist rose from each letter. Ron screwed up his nose and squinted at it. What the devil was going on? When he looked up, Snape was tapping his wand against his arm and glowering at him--he decided to get back to work, and didn't stop again until he was finished.

The Muddle with Hermione Granger

Written in detention with Professor Snape.

It all started when Hermione got back from visiting that dodgy quidditch star Viktor Krum--the one she went to the Yule Ball with. She hadn't even told us she was going and the whole group of us were worried sick. She even went by muggle craft! Me mum had a fit when she heard, though Dad got excited--he's into those things, you know--and Ginny was upset, since they are supposed to be girlfriends. Anyway, when she got back we had it out. She told us that she had drank some frothy bilge and flown around with all sorts of bad eggs. I bet she did more than what she told us, too. She insisted she was in love with Viktor and didn't care for me--and she called me jealous! I wasn't really jealous, but she had been missing for three weeks, so I was quite angry. I called her a traitor to her friends and accused her of trying to be someone she's not. I called her some other names, too. Harry tried to break up the fight but instead wound up taking my side in it. She kept going on that Viktor was going to write to her and she was going back there as soon as term ended, and on all her vacations. Harry told her to stuff it, and I told her I didn't care what she did so long as she left me out of it. We ignored each other until we got back to school, but last night in the common room she showed up asking to borrow Hedwig or Pigwidgeon and that was the limit. I don't suppose she's heard back from him at all, but she keeps insisting that she's better than all of us, wanting to send off our owls to that wretched place, Durmstrang. Neville and some others overheard me when I called her a scrubber and a tart and got into it too--though I didn't really mean the names I called her, and I hope she didn't take them to heart. She put a hex on me that took all night to remove, so the next morning when we came to your class, Professor Snape, sir, I was in no mood for another quarrel, and I felt rather knackered, to tell the truth. I fought with her in front of you because I'd stopped thinking, you chased us out, took twenty points from Gryffindor, and gave us detention. I suppose you spoke with her during all of Transfiguration since she came to Herbology, but I haven't seen her since then. That's the full story.

Signed, Ron Weasley

Ron looked over at Harry, who was finishing his own account of the incident. Snape had stopped peering out the window and was now standing over them, looking impatient. The boys rolled up their scrolls and handed them to their professor, who tucked them away quickly.

Then they blinked.

"Well?" demanded Snape.

"Erm, I'm not sure exactly," began Harry, his hand instinctively moving to scratch his head. "Why are we here?"

"You tell me," Snape hissed.

"Guess we'll be going then," said Ron, who was inching toward the door.

"Very well. Don't forget your assignment."

"What assignment?" asked Harry, looking perplexed.

"An essay on the proper composition and uses of the Memory potion," Snape growled. "Due next class."

Both Harry and Ron blanched as they stumbled out the door. It slammed shut behind them.

"What was that about?" asked Harry.

"Beats me," replied Ron. "Say, Harry, what were we in Snape's office for, anyway?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't remember," he replied.

"Weird," said Ron. The pair walked off together to the Great Hall, feeling suddenly hungry for supper.