You hadn't meant to cause so much trouble. No one casts a patronus with malicious intent. That's like, the opposite of what a patronus is supposed to do. You had been practicing the charm for months over the summer holidays. Once you were legally allowed to do magic outside of school, it had been one of the first things you wanted to try, since every Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had entirely glossed over corporeal patronus', for being much too advanced. But you had mastered the technique, and your friends were all eager to see you conjure one. But it was also the sort of magic that wasn't seen too often, especially not by younger students…
So maybe you shouldn't have been surprised when the sudden appearance of a silver, seven foot grizzly bear sent the Great Hall into a panic over breakfast.
You were seated in Professor Snape's office, your elbows on your knees and your face burning in your hands as you awaited the arrival of your Head of House. He'd told you to go down to his office, while he and the other teachers dealt with the handful of students who had gotten minor injuries during the resulting uproar. You felt like a louse. You didn't even raise your head when you heard the office door open. You watched shiny black shoes and billowing robes pass before you, and you felt the firm warmth of a hand on your shoulder.
"Oh, do lighten up, Miss Festerworth."
You squeaked before turning your face reluctantly to meet your professor. His face appeared stoic, but the arched brow and slight smirk told you that he wasn't being facetious. He pat your shoulder for good measure before he made his way to his desk, and you surreptitiously pressed your fingers to the residual warmth left on your arm.
"Am I in trouble?" you asked morosely as he settled into the chair behind his desk, and the impassive look he gave you was answer enough. "Right… so when's my detent-?"
"Don't make assumptions," he cut in firmly, rolling his eyes as you looked up to him in shock. "You're not in trouble, Jilomena." His voice was soothing now, and he pulled back the sleeve of his robes to glance at a thin silver watch. "We're putting on a show for Professor McGonagall. I'm sure she thinks I'm giving you a proper reprimand right about now. But why would I do that when one of my girls just performed a perfectly extraordinary piece of magic?"
Your face flushed at the praise, and you settled back into your chair with a smile, fingers still lingering over the warmth of his hand. "Thank you, Professor…"