The next evening Hermione arrives outside the Headmistress' office promptly after dinner. "Password?" asks the gargoyle, yawning.
"Lemon Cookie?" asks Hermione with a smirk. The gargoyle swings aside to let her pass. Hermione is feeling a more than a little smug as she enters the office.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake Miss Granger," says McGonagall as Hermione enters. "That is not the password. He knew you were coming."
"Oh," says Hermione, feeling foolish. She watches the Headmistress with curiosity. McGonagall is dropping a few of her hairs into a vial of- "Is that - - Polyjuice, Professor?"
"Indeed, Miss Granger. For your detention, you will be opening my fan mail." The Headmistress gestures toward an enormous pile of letters in the corner of her office, every one of them bright red. Howlers.
Hermione sighs and holds her hand out for the vial. Then, she toasts McGonagall with it. "Alastor Moody," she says, before gulping down the potion. She shudders. "Still tastes like goblin piss."
"Don't forget to cast a silencing charm," McGonagall says. "I have work to do."
Later that evening Hermione's ears are still ringing as she crawls in bed next Ginny in the head girl's rooms. She has her own bed with the other seventh years, but she has fallen into the habit of sleeping here. Hermione and Ginny both agree that a king size bed for a fifty kilogram girl is ridiculous. There is more than enough room for both of them.
"Really?" Ginny says. "Two hours of howlers? Fuck, Hermione, I am so sorry."
"At least Snape can't make me clean cauldrons tomorrow. McGonagall was adamant about that." Hermione groans. "How the fuck am I going to get all my homework done with detention every night? I wish I still had the time turner."
"You can copy off me," says Ginny, "At least for the classes we have together."
Hermione chuckles at the irony. "I might take you up on that."
Hermione stands outside Snape's office for five full minutes before she knocks, mentally preparing herself for- for what? The fact of the matter is Hermione has no idea what to expect on the other side of that door, and that alone terrifies her more than anything else. But it doesn't take long for her fear of being tardy outweighs her fear of the potions Professor, and she knocks smartly on the door.
"Enter." His voice literally gives her the chills, even from behind a closed door. She enters. He is seated behind his desk. He has a silver pocket watch in his left had, the chain disappearing into his bat-like robes. "You spent five minutes hovering outside my door, Miss Granger. Explain yourself."
He made no motion for her to sit, so she remains standing. "Composing myself, Professor. Mentally preparing myself, I suppose." Hermione shrugs, very uncomfortable by his interrogation. Then, almost as an afterthought she adds, "I'm terrified of you."
Snape guffaws openly at this proclamation. "That's not very Griffindor of you."
"With respect, sir, I disagree. Bravery is courage in the face of fear, not lack of fear itself."
He snorts, but does not refute or insult her argument. Hermione take this as high praise, and has to put not a small amount of effort into keeping it from showing on her face. She hates that she is, always has been, so eager to earn his approval.
Snape stands up and motions to a stack of papers on his desk. "Start grading," he says. "I'll be working in the lab. You can leave at ten. Don't interrupt me." He turns to leave through a door at the back of his office. "Oh- and Miss Granger-"
"Yes Professor?"
"Please remember that I am vile, nasty, and above all- a perfectionist. And grade accordingly."
"Yes Professor." Hermione sits down and reaches for the red ink bottle. Snape leaves her to it.