After Harry was "breathing" (like he wasn't to begin with), Ron (picking a great time to snap back) teetered over to us and helped both of us up. "Listen, mate," he began, addressing Harry, "I'm really sorry about that. I couldn't (and can't) explain what happened to me. I promise you it'll never happen again." Harry smiled. "It's fine, Ron, really. I understand," he said comradely. I smiled. "My two favorite boys in the entire castle," I said truthfully, slinging my arms around both of the blushing boys. Ron suddenly froze. "We should get back to the castle immediately. We're late as it is and we're going to receive at least one detention!" he suddenly shouted. All three of us made a mad dash for the castle, limbs flinging all over the place as we ran. We yanked open the door to find a tall, greasy-haired, pale man standing in the doorway, grinning this sickening smile and glaring at us deviously.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," he spat ferociously. He fixed his glare upon me. "And who might this young lady be?" Flustered, I answered his question: "I'm Miley Stewart, the American whose owl was delayed." I figured the second half was necessary, since he'd probably wonder. The man eyed me curiously, but with a hatred burning (it was almost unperceivable, but not). "Well, Miss Stewart, if I remember correctly (and I normally do), you, come next Saturday, are my new private pupil, so to speak. And come tomorrow, you will be my new public pupil. Not a great way to start off a relationship, eh?" he asked jokingly (in a way that was only funny to him), chuckling a cruel, cold laugh. I resented him immediately. And I figured out who he was—Snape the Snake. Great. He stopped mid-chortle. "Miss Stewart, I understand that you are unfamiliar with the way things run around here, but when a teacher addresses you with a question, no matter how unimportant or foolish it is, you respond respectfully and instantly." His black eyes bore through me. I snapped my eyes shut quickly for a moment (he inflicted so much unnecessary pressure on me!) and breathed. "No, sir," I forced through gritted teeth. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Well, well, well, Stewart, I suppose you're just like the rest of the Gryffindor scum. Twenty points from Gryffindor—per perpetrator." I totaled that up quickly—sixty points! Okay, so I didn't really know what a point was, but it had to be good if this horrid man was extracting them. "And for the individuals…." Snape looked greedy, probably calculating the worst possible (but legal) punishment for us "Gryffindor scum" and "perpetrators." I guess he missed the mark. "Two consecutive detentions!" Pfft, that was nothing. All we had to do was sit around in a closed-off room for an hour or so. Fine with me. But Harry and Ron didn't look so good. "For the boys; Potter, you will be polishing every single plaque and award in the trophy room until they glint gold! And Weasley, you will serve your detention helping Professor McGonagall clean her room after the seventh years finish Transfiguring animals that make quite a mess. They will take place on Saturday and Sunday. Stewart, your first detention is your private tutoring session with me on Saturday. That should be punishment enough. And I'm scheduling another tutoring session on Sunday. Enjoy." And with that he slinked away.
I was fuming. I loathed him passionately without even really knowing him. And I knew that I was looking forward to my first weekend at Hogwarts about as much as I looked forward to Jackson's toenail day.
A/N: Sorry for lack of length. I will update soon and faithfully as I've been doing.