Snape's desire
Snape looked at the stone clock a young rat had once given him and strolled up to the front of the classroom. "Class, put down your quills," he said. "Next week I will test you on heeble stork so I expect you to revise. Yes Goyle, that means opening a book. And Hermione, I want to see you after the lesson."
Draco smirked and Hermione looked as if she were either going to burst into tears or lay an egg.
"What did I do?" She choked. But Snape did not reply until everyone had left the cold, dingy classroom.
"Apart from being an annoying, no-it-all, Granger…nothing." Holding his hands together behind his back, Snape walked up to his desk and back again. His black, smelly eyes lingered on Hermione's satchel, like two acorns looking piercingly at a bridge.
With a gasp, Hermione realised what he wanted and her hand moved involuntarily towards her bag. I'll never give it to him!
"Give me the shoe," he commanded.
"Never!" Hermione cried.
Snape could tell she wasn't going to let go easily; he had to 'up his game'. He swept over to a wooden chest and removed a large bag. "How about," he unzipped the bag and thrust it her way, "I give you this…a life-time supply of crayons."
Hermione's eyes widened and temptation gripped her limbs. Slowly, her arm began to reach out. Oh, how she longed for the touch of the waxy colours-but no! She pulled her arm back and ran before she could betray Ron. She ran out of the room, out of the dungeons and didn't stop until she was safely behind the portrait of the fat lady.