Bedtime

Harry and Ron lay in front of the fireplace flipping through Quiditch magazines. The clock had chimed 9:00 twenty-five minutes ago. "Hey cool! The Wizzby Faints are doing an autograph signing at Quality Quiditch Supplies!"

"Awesome! When?"

"Saturday the fifteenth of.." Harry's voice faltered when he realized his voice could be heard by all as the room had fallen silent. Only one person made a room fall that silent without speaking a word. Harry's head snapped up and his eyes met Snape's.

"Bed." The single word got Harry scrambling to his feet and sprinting for the stairs. A few other terrified first years and one fourth year did the same, not realizing the command was being given to one student, not all of them.

The rest of the Gryffs were frozen, watching wide eyed (and a few of them slack-jawed) as the chiroptera swooped towards Ron. "You as well Mr. Weasley."

"Huh?"

"Bed, Mr. Weasley. You have three nights of an early bedtime for wandering the grounds after curfew while students are being petrified. 9:00 for three nights."

Crap, there goes my date with the cute Ravenclaw thought one fifth year. She certainly wasn't going to risk having Snape coming back and telling her to go to bed at 9.

"But..." began Ron.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "We will be meeting with your mother during your detention this Friday," Ron's jaw dropped, "Perhaps refusing to follow a simple bedtime is something else you'd like to add to the things you'll be confessing to her?"

Ron paled, and rose to his feet. "Good night, sir." Ron turned and headed up the stairs.

Snape crossed his arms, leaned against the stone wall and silently stared about the room, contemplating the fear being exhibited by the supposedly brave Gryffindorks, "Timid mice, too afraid to squeak with a snake near by," was Snape's mental assessment of them. The minutes ticked by.

9:26

"Why is it," Snape silently wondered, "That I am the only adult in this building that attempts to curtail Gryffindor students' adventurous bravery and replace it with verbal bravery? Political bravery will be much more a part of their adult lives than rescuing damsels." Fourth year, Brian Adams took a step toward Professor Snape and appeared to be about to question the Professor's presences. Snape merely rose an eyebrow and the boy retreated. The taciturn man continued his dirogitory contemplations, "Not an ounce of courage. Pitiful."

9:27

Snape sighed. "If more people possessed a Slytherin mind they would realize I'm not a biased teacher. I encourage the Slytherins to be clever and sneaky; the Hufflepunks to help each other and work hard; the Ravenclogs to read and research; and the Gryffindorks to bravely, verbally spare." His internal voice darkened, "Rather than to seek thrills in escaping and rescuing others from exploding potions. Which they explode far too often. They had to be doing it on purpose."

9:28

"Alas," Snape sighed again, "instead of a stealthy hunt resulting in grasping the zebra by its hind quarters and shaking until success was met, all his goading resulted in little more than indignant roars and flabbergasted insults from the eagle-lions. Obviously Minevra failed to teach them how gryffins hunt and how such techniques should be applied to daily life. Since her hoard fails to act as Gryffins in any potentially successful verbal capicity," Snape scanned the room and saw a few students trembiling due to his presence in their territory, "or physical capacity," he mentally sneered, "I feel no compunction to award them any points. So all their whining about bias is for naugt. They are the ones that fail to properly represent their House."

9:29

"It's not like I don't give them ampt opportunities to practice verbal bravery. They just fail miserably." Snape began devising the lessons he thought the Gryffindors needed, "Lesson 1: Seek Weaknesses. Lesson 2: Devise Methods of Exploting Weaknessess. Lesson 3: Attack! a.k.a. 1. Chat-up the Enemy. 2. Think of What You Want and How to Get It. 3. Verbally Spare With Intelligence, Not Whinning. To be honest, he couldn't see a Gryffindork succeeding at any of those lessons. Pity."

9:30

After five minutes had passed Snape shifted, walked. With his movement the allowance to move about and chat seemed to be released. Then the lions growled (mice squeaked) or gapped as the Head of Slytherin proceeded up the stairs rather than out of the portrait hole.

The Dormitory

Harry tossed his dirty clothes into the hamper and drew over his head Dudley's white and blue night shirt and then slipped into the humonguos matching flanel pajama bottoms. Harry muttered the familiar spell that shrunk both garments to something more fitting his size. Then he tied tight the string on the bottoms so when the shrinking spell wore off, as it always did, he wouldn't be left showing off his undergarments.

Next he brushed his teeth. Though the Dursely's had never taken him to the dentist they had graced him with the free toothbrushes distrubted by such doctors. Abultions dealt with, he left the dormitory bathroom just as Snape rapped on the door and entered the room.

"Bed." Snape repeated the earlier command. Ron jumped at Snape's sudden appearance, released Scabbers back into his cage and rushed over to his bed and under the giant red and gold duvet.

Harry stood frozen in spot. "Would the man punish him for not being in bed at 9:00? for not informing Ron of the restriction?"

Snape rolled his eyes at the boy's display of fear. Did he think he was going to get hit for ignoring a bedtime? Considering Potter's penchant for danger the kid had good cause to worry for his darrier, but not over something so minor. The brat may have not known it, but Snape reserved such punishments for life threatening situations. Or plain idiocy. Severus stepped over to the empty bed and hauled back the corner of the bed covers, "In."

Harry followed the order this time, moving closer to the intimidating man, sidling by and into bed. Harry watched with huge eyes as Snape released the covers then pointed his wand at them causing the edges on either side to tuck under the mattress. A warming spell followed. Harry felt snug, comfortable. This was a new experience for Harry and he watched warily as Snape cast the same spells on Ron's covers.

Professor Snape followed up on each of them with a time spell that would prevent either child from leaving the confines of their bedding until 7AM, bathroom needs excluded.

"You're 30 minutes late. Tommorrow you will be in bed by 8:30 to makeup for the lateness."

Harry groaned. Ron nearly made the mistake of retorting that he hadn't been aware of the bedtime restriction, but caught himself. Harry and the twins, much to Hermione's disgust, had convinced him of the importance of keeping ones mouth shut and though he had little practice with restraining his thoughts this seemed like an apt time to try.

Disgusted at the lack of intelligent retort by 'The Brave Lions' Snape stated, "Good night," then flicked his wand thrice, twice to add silencing charms around each bed and once to extinguish the lights.

...

Harry rolled to his side, which was difficult given the tight coverings that seemed to mold to his moves. He felt more lost now than he had wandering the forest. He was supposed to be embarrassed, upset about being tucked in by the most evil professor ever to walk Hogwart's halls. So why was he contemplating being late again for bed tomorrow? His brain answered, "Because you've never experienced anything so parental." Should he accidentally miss bed time again? His rear twinged reminding him that Snape was not a man to be trifled with. Best not be late. So instead he replayed Snape's actions in his head. Snape tucking in the covers, warming them, turning the lights out, even saying good night. Harry had never had any of that before. He felt secure. Safe. Replaying it all, he drifted into a peaceful, deep sleep.

...

As Snape crossed to the portrait hole he threw one last intimidating glare at the Gryffindors still mingling in the common room, causing a few more to seek their beds. Mice. The whole lot of them.

With his task complete, the inmates incarcerrated and the asylum trembling in his wake, Snape's robes billowed behind him Batman style, as he made his way to his cave...uh...quarters. He'd loved the movie as a child as he'd gone to it with Lily. The charm that created the billowing effect was one he had created himself. Perhaps he'd go to the cinema this weekend.