Blaise was first out the door of the Potions classroom,* leaving the other three to finish cleaning up their stations. Ron Weasley was standing outside the door, obviously waiting for his friends. So, he was the only one to pale when a pallid Severus Snape opened the door to the Potions classroom. "Weasley, in. Potter, stay. The rest of you, out." He said, as he closed the door to his office. Malfoy and Granger hurriedly scurried out of there, and Snape didn't give them a second's more thought, as he sent a silent spell at the door, which shut it with a great bang. He muttered a few silencing and secrecy spells to himself, and then looked at both boys, who were doing their best to look hangdog and crestfallen. It was, not quite working, but it was at least an effort at dissembling.
"Have you figured out who is so upset at you that they've decided to let me punish you in their stead?" Professor Snape purred quietly.
Potter's green eyes shot up, catching Snape's black steadily. "No sir."
"And why is that?" Snape purred, "Have you really no suspects at all?" Snape asked, leading the boys towards answers they might not have faced up to without his interference.
"It's not that sir," Potter responded, "It's that, well, it could be nearly anyone."
"Except," Ron Weasley said unexpectedly, "Most of the Gryffindors would have settled it themselves."
"And just why is that?" Snape said, his voice deadly still.
"Because they wouldn't wish your punishments on anyone, sir." Harry Potter said, perhaps his awareness of how direct he was being prompting his politeness. Merlin knows the boy didn't have any as a general rule.
"And they'd rather do it themselves, too." Ron piped up.
"Why do you suppose it could be nearly anyone?" Snape prompted.
"Well, because nearly nobody would take kindly to having someone else read their private mail." Ron said, his face blushing as deeply as his red roots.
"That's right." Snape's normally severe visage smoothed, his mouth turning nearly flat, as he said, "What do you want to do now?"
"What do you mean, sir?" Harry Potter blinked at him, through those perpetually smeared glasses. Did the child not know any cleaning spells?
"I will, for this one time only, afford you the opportunity to choose whether or not to receive punishment for your untoward actions." Snape said, "I am, at the moment, not especially angry at you, and you may count yourself fortunate that this is so."
Ron frowned, asking suddenly, "What's the catch?"
"If you choose to avoid punishment, that fact will be known, and the person who decided you needed punishment may take further action. However, if you choose to be punished, you can be sure I will 'make it realistic.'" Snape paused, "That way your incessant complaining will seem all the more plausible."
Harry Potter spoke up quickly, "We'll do it sir. Take the punishment." Nearby, Ron glared at Potter, but Snape merely smirked.
"So be it." Snape purred, enjoying the reckless Gryffindors agreeing to be punished. It was, perhaps, the first time in his long career of teaching, that it had been so. "You are dismissed," Snape said, with a wave of his wand canceling all the spells on the door.
*so fast he's missing prepositions.
They opened the door to find Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy standing there, glaring at each other, with Hermione having multiple bats hanging motionless, stuck to her hair. Professor Snape was at their backs in less than an instant. "Would someone care to enlighten me as to what has been going on here?"
Draco Malfoy turned an unctuous smile towards his favorite professor, saying simply, "We were conducting an experiment, to find out whether Granger was more scared of the bats, or whether they'd be more scared of her hair." He paused, and motioned grandly, "As you can see by their deceased corpses, it would appear that Granger's bravery has carried the day."
Snape's eyes bulged out, and it appeared for a moment that he was trying to decide what to do. Finally, he pinched his nose, shook his head, and said, "Get out of here, all of you. Get Out Of My Sight!" But, by the last few bellowed words, the students were nowhere to be seen. Which, frankly, was just as he liked it.
[a/n: Thursday below, enjoy]
Sometimes I think I see you everywhere,
Your sparkling laughter, bright as sunlit rain.
I strain my eyes, crane my neck
It's all an illusion - that's someone else, surely?
Behind me, in front - up on towers high above
Where are you, my dear, the one that I love?
Draco Malfoy was lurking. Oh, people had different names for what he was doing, skulking, creeping, stalking. But mostly, he was just lurking. He'd verified, above, that Hermione Granger was in Arithmancy (where he was supposed to be), but he had also heard Zambini talking about her being in Divination - at the same time. Oh, it didn't seem possible, but in this magical world, who was really to say?
Still, Draco was willing to admit the possibility - and he knew himself well enough to know that he'd drive himself to distraction if he didn't find out just what exactly was going on. It was the feeling of a cat just at the edge of the firelight; a shadow that moved, nearly enshrouded by darkness. Compelling.
He had always been one for puzzles, anyway. So what was one more? He didn't really dare to credit that it was dangerous, whatever was going on. For one thing, she was clearly doing it under the teachers' eyes, so it couldn't be all that harmful - to her. And Prof. Snape would probably manage to derail any trick that was subtlely harming others en masse.
Sitting was boring, and Draco's feet wanted to straighten, to stretch. However, dead silence was a prerequisite.
And, finally, nearly an hour later, it was rewarded. Granger was first out of the Divination classroom, coming down the ladder with a bang, as if she was upset about something. Draco heard her complaining about the sheer waste of time the class was. "I heard that!" Trelawney said in her high, thready voice.
[Review, please!
The altercation between Malfoy and Granger started with him saying, "The dungeons are a scary place for a mug like you... go ahead and run upstairs." Granger responded with, "Gryffindors don't run" and they were off. This scene is explicitly in reference to my father's habit of catching snakes and putting them in girls' inkwells, to listen to them squeal when the snake eventually slithered out during class.]