The Deatheater of the Dungeons
CHAPTER 9
Hermione woke up feeling very strange. She was a little bit angry with herself for giving into her emotions the night before.
Oh great, she thought. I've got classes today.
But for some "strange" reason she didn't exactly feel welcome to the Seventh year Slytherins first thing in the morning. Oh yes, and of course, the Gryffindors would be there to. Oh joy.
She was so upset she didn't even notice that Severus wasn't in his place on the bed.
"Acantha!"
"Present"
She paused. "Aceldama?"
No one answered. Corrin was not in his seat. "Does any Slytherin know where he is?"
Silence.
"I see." she glanced around the room at the Slytherins. "You are aware, are you not, that failure to report to a class will earn automatic detention?" No one said anything at all. "Please inform Mr. Aceldama that failure to report to his detention this evening will earn him an expulsion."
"Anders!"
"Here."
"Both Andraste's?"
"Present."
"Here."
It went on like that until the entire roll list had been filled and they had all been assigned homework. Then she kicked them out. Poor kids. They really didn't seem to be getting that much brewing experience.
"Oh, bloody hell." It basically summed up the entire day and what was to come next. Detention. She had completely forgot that the whole point of Filch being hired was so the teachers could dump detention duty on him.
There was a knock on the classroom door. "Come in," she called.
In came Corrin Aceldama, fuming mad. "Good evening, Professor," He said with forced politeness. "Will I be cleaning cauldrons today or grading papers?"
"You, Mr. Aceldama, will be telling me where you were during your hour and a half of class today."
"None of your business, you-"
"I can most certainly assure you that it IS my business and I can also make it your head of house's as well."
"What are you doing teaching here anyway?"
"I was asked to teach here. They thought I was most qualified and-"
He lunged at her, knocking her against the desk and landing on top of her. "There's only one thing mudbloods are qualified for. It's learning, not teaching."
She screamed and tried to push him off her. She punched him, but he grabbed her hands and held them down.
Suddenly, her head was knocked back against the desk as he released her...and then, everything went dark.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was sitting in his office when through the door burst Severus Snape, someone who was supposed to have died almost a year ago, carrying the current potions professor in his arms and shoving a 7th year Slytherin into the room that seemed to have aquired a number of bruises in the past couple of minutes.
Dumbledore, who has rarely to be surprised at these sort of circumstances, spoke then.
"Pull up some chairs please. Severus, how good to see you. Would you like a lemon drop?"