By now, she recognized the average brown hair and slightly over weighed statue, if only for having memorized it as explicitly unremarkable.
"You failed?", the young Slytherin witch hardly hid her disdain. "You, of all?"
"Supposed to happen once in a while", Hermione shrugged at Aguire. "What's your appointment? Perhaps we can switch, I really need to -"
"At eight sharp", Aguire replied, crushing Hermiones hope of an early release. "But we're gonna have wait until we're complete, Snape's seeing us in groups."
"Whom are we waiting for?"
"Draco."
"Malfoy?"
"I know no other Draco in this castle."
"Isn't he busy intimidating some first years?", Hermione teased her.
"He's leaving that to lower ranks", Aguire replied flatly, leaving her uncertain whether she had understood her question as provocation at all.
So I'm going to do detention for nothing, Hermione cursed to herself. With two Slyhterins in the room, there's no way of extracting anything about Bellatrix from him.
They heard quick, sharp and light steps rushing over cold stone. Minutes later, the slim figure of Draco Malfoy, grinning with teeth shining as his Squad badge, had appeared before them,
"Granger", he greeted her, displaying credible surprise, "You here? I thought this message contained something else."
"Which would be?"
"Ah, you would like to squeeze from me what the headmistress has told me about your dealings with Snape, wouldn't you?"
"No."
"Don't mess with me."
"No, I do not wish to know what Umbridge might have or might not have told you", Hermione emphasized, enjoying to see him irritated, "'cause there's simply nothing to tell."
She could not be sure, of course, whether he bought her lie, but his anger did not ease when he rushed to the door of Snapes office.
"I'll lead", he stated firmly, and knocked. The door opened at once.
"Come."
Snape did not look up from the parchment he was apparently reading, but waved his wand to close the door. The quivering, rattling her insides when Malfoy wounded up in the corridor, dissolved.
"Professor, we were asked to -", Malfoy began, but Snape held his hand up, elbow crammed into the desk, signaling him to stop.
He had switched the carpet, she noticed, and changed the old rotten mat for a firmly woven, dark green and silver rug. The rectangle was much larger then its predecessor, covering the entire floor, with graceful ornaments at its edges, which, Hermione recognized, were combined from tiny snakes. Snape had not tucked away the familiar, comfortable chairs she had taken in her sessions with him, but placed them against the wall, leaving no option for a close encounter of any kind.
"It appears to me", their teacher said after a while, "That your ability to be on time matches your skill in meeting the requirements I gave you."
They knew him too well to talk back.
"As for the average abysmal standard in your work, I'll have to spent the entire next week reminding you that homework in the later parts of the term are to be done with the same dedication, scrutiny and veraciousness", heavy emphasis on the latter, "as throughout the year."
He had not asked them a question, so they remained silent.
"Miss Aguire", he addressed the Slytherin, "I am sorry to inform you that the substantial parts of your work allow me to conclude that you have a very basic, superficial understanding of the subject. Your essay has been marked by me with an 'A' -", he ignored the revelation of glee on her face, "but I strongly recommend you not to aim at a NEWT in Defense against the Dark Arts next year. There's simply no chance you'll cope with the amounts of work, regardless of the teacher."
"Ok", she said. Relief and joy had not vanished from her expression when he handed her a parchment, allowing himself the thinnest of a smile.
"As for the work you've put in since I gave you the assignment, it's an additional fifteen points for Slytherin."
If she had not decided to change into robes, Hermione thought, I might see her float an inch above the ground.
"You may leave, while I explain to Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger why their work did not achieve a passing grade", Snape excused her, and she hurried across the carpet as if someone had indeed provided her with wings.
Was it her imagination, or did the door fell shut much louder than before?
"As for you two", their teacher began coolly, "The will be no points tonight."
Hermione regretted not slipping into robes as well, for despite the heat several floor above them, the dungeons were chilly as ever. Its humid, slightly musty air forced her to focus on slow, superficial breathing.
"Our headmistress and High Inquisitor has informed me that she instructed you to stick with the literature I gave you", Snape went on. "So I would like to know, what pushed you to the audacity -", sharp tone here, "to completely ignore those instructions. Mr Malfoy."
"The assignment asked for an elaboration of two crises in traditional pure-blood family like mine", Malfoy said, "But it was not limited to crises in the nineteenth century or earlier."
Good thinking, Hermione caught herself noticing.
"And since my family has always held the genealogic approach in high regard -", he smiled, radiating complacency, "Introducing a more recent issue seemed appropriate."
"And you have done scarcely more than introduce it", Snape started telling him off, "The example of your aunt is way too personal, and not based on any evidence whatsoever. Your interpretations is complete speculation and therefore, your conclusion -"
"Is sufficient based on the documents I've provided you with as source material", Draco competed the sentence stubbornly.
She had not planned on listening, but found herself paying attention intensely.
"Coming up with an example from your own personal history can not be accepted as remotely professional approach -"
"The sources I cited -"
"Are rumors, nothing else", Snape snapped at him, obviously angry. "Oral family history of an incident not important enough to be included in any historical disquisition, young enough to be debated by witnesses, which, as you ought to know at this stage of your magical education, tend to disagree -"
"Which is why I included it, Sir", Malfoy interrupted his rant, "To add another witness to the source material. For generations after me to draw proper conclusions."
Hermione struggled to follow his line of thinking, but Snapes horrified expression provided an answer before she had grasped the question.
"I'd like to hear your testimony on what happened to my aunt, Lucrece Malfoy, the night she disappeared."
"No." She had never seen him so pale, lips tightly pressed together, one hand over another on the desk, as if forcing them to remain still. "I cannot testify to things I have not witnessed -"
"Bullshit", Draco waved away his refusal. It spoke to Snapes inner struggle that he did not discipline his student for the dismissive reaction. "You were hanging with them all the time in those days, they would've told you, of you weren't there yourself."
"Those were family matters, and none of my concern -"
"Coward!", Draco snapped at him. The insult acted like a bucket of ice water in his face: Skilled in duels as he was with potions, Snape had reached into his pocket before Malfoy could raise his wand. "Expelliarmus."
Hermione felt her wand being pulled by invisible strings and watched it fly into Snapes outstretched hands.
"I will not", he whispered, still pale, but vigilant to their every move, "Be spoken to like this." She had not seen him rise, but from the angle she sized them up, Snape was still taller than Malfoy, if only an inch or less.
"Your grade", Snape raised his voice again, struggling to pull the conversation back to a professional level, "concerning the given task is 'Poor'. Regarding your upcoming exams, handing in a revised version is voluntary. I will not draw points from you tonight, since the matter is obviously a too personal one to be discussed rationally. You will pick your wand from Professor Umbridge's office tomorrow."
He tucked them both into his inner pocket, pointing his own at Malfoy, who wore an expression of straight and intense hatred. "My father will hear about this."
"Sure."
"As will my aunt."
"I am certain Bellatrix will listen to your claims, and act appropriately", Snape replied perfectly calm. He let out no sign of anger, but she felt sure to have heard a threat.
"She's right about you", Malfoy whispered, fists clenched, "You might appear loyal to our cause, but you can't be trusted. Like all half-bloods."
"The Dark Lord thinks otherwise."
For a second, Hermione expected him to call this into question, but Draco caught himself in time.
"We will see eye to eye on matters sooner than you realize", he hissed, but stepped back, unleashing his fists, with the defiant, petrified expression of someone who recognizes a lost battle.
"That remains to be seen."
"Count on it."
"I must ask you to leave now, Mr Malfoy", Snape shook his wand to support his request, "Before you leave me no choice but to apply more serious measures than detracting house points."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Draco, you are a child. You have no wand and still provoke somebody with three."
They gazed furiously at each other, Malfoy breathing heavily, as if parts of him still battled for supremacy. "Be aware of the company you keep, Professor."
"Meaning?"
"Rather spent your evening with the mudblood, will you?"
Sparks from the tip of Snapes wand betrayed his calm expression. "Get out, Draco Before I do something that will be hard to explain to Lucius and your mother."
Malfoy turned on his heel and vanished, slamming the door behind him.