Standing Up Only Leads to Trouble | By : Kaleidoscopeeyes Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 18058 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor any of the characters from the stories. I make no money from writing this. |
Authors Note:
This is actually an old story I posted to AFF from 04-08. Eventually I lost interest in it and took it down. I got some emails recently asking about did I still have the story so I decided to post it again, but I'm not sure it will ever be finished, I will add the chapters as I do some editing.
“No, Neville… no. Just stop for a second! You can’t add the powdered amber yet.”“But the directions say I have to add it just after the Cockatrice saliva.”
“You’ve done it all in the wrong order, if you want to save it you’re going to have to compensate.”
“Class is almost over. I just want to finish!”
“Here, let me…” Hermione pushed Neville aside and quickly began to remedy his travesty of a potion. She didn’t like to do anyone’s work for them, but Professor Snape was going to call for the class to start decanting their potions soon and Neville had been doing so poorly lately that he really couldn’t afford another poor mark.
She was forced to stray from the instructions several times, but after a few minutes of fevered work she was somehow able salvage Neville’s potion. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. All she needed to do now was stir in a counter-clockwise motion until the bright purple faded into a dull gray-blue.
She pushed a damp lock of hair behind her ear, and glanced up to smile at Neville, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking just past her and making small whimpering noises.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a couple of questions, Miss Granger,” said a low voice next to her ear.
Oh no… not again. Hermione swallowed hard and turned around, “Yes, Professor?”
“Firstly,” Snape stood back and raised his voice so that the entire class could hear, “are you the Potions Master?”
She stared at him incredulously
“Speak up girl! Are you the teacher of this class?”
“No sir.”
“Who is?”
Hermione lowered her gaze to the ground “You are, Professor Snape.”
“Secondly, is your name Neville Longbottom?” He began to pace with his hands behind his back.
The class snickered, and Hermione could feel red creeping up her neck, “No sir, it’s Hermione Granger.”
“Then pray tell, why are you, firstly, attempting to override the specific potion instructions given by the Professor of this class, and secondly, why are you working at a caldron clearly labeled ‘Neville Longbottom’ while the caldron labeled ‘Hermione Granger’ is over there, containing an obviously complete potion?”
She cleared her throat “I was only…”
“Twenty-five points from Gryffindor,” Snape interrupted, a sneer growing on his face “and since you already have a finished potion you will have no need for this one.” With a quick flick of his wand Neville’s potion was gone; eliciting a gasp of horror from said potion owner, who had been standing quietly hoping that Snape would ignore him.
“Class dismissed, please set your vials on my desk before you leave.” He waved his hand loftily and stepped into his to his office, but not before adding “Oh, and Mr. Longbottom, your grandmother will be receiving another letter, informing her of your dismal performance, very soon.”
Hermione stared at Snape’s door feeling like she’d been slapped in the face.
“Maybe you should just let me fail on my own from now on” Neville mumbled, looking down at his shoes.
“Oh Neville! I’m so sorry. I was only trying to help.”
“It’s not your fault.” He turned his watery gaze to Hermione. “It’s just... my grandmother said that, if I got another poor mark in Potions, she’d turn my toad into a lump of coal!”
She felt a stab of guilt. “Here, just use mine. One poor mark isn’t going to hurt me.”
“Just forget about it.” He shook his head. “I’ll… I’ve got to go try an’ hide Trevor.” He grabbed his things and hurried out of the room, tripping a little on his way out.
“Poor little guy, nothing ever seems to work for him, does it?” said Ron, he and Harry having just walked up from placing their own mediocre potions on Snape’s desk. “You really shouldn’t have tried to do his work for him though…” he added as an afterthought.
Hermione turned around hotly “Oh, like you should talk Ron! You’re always asking me to do your work for you!
“But you never do!”
Harry spoke up. “Hermione, why do you let Snape walk all over you, like that? Twenty-five points is ridiculous, especially since he destroyed Neville’s potion as well.”
Hermione frowned and began to stuff her things into her satchel. “I’ve told you a million times, Harry… it’s just not worth it.”
“Isn’t it?” He said seriously. “You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed how often he’s been doing this lately.”
“Actually, I can’t say that I have.” She answered curtly.
“Harry’s right, Hermione.” Ron cut in. “How many points has Snape taken from you this month; fifty... sixty?”
Actually, it was more like seventy three, but she wasn’t going to admit that. Instead, she threw her bag over her shoulder and headed for the door.
“Not to mention he’s always glaring at you” he continued, following her.
“Snape glares at everyone.” She said as they stepped out into the hallway.
“Admit it Hermione.” Harry said. “Snape’s got it in for you. I don’t know why, but if you don’t do something soon, Gryffindor is going to loose its chance at the house cup.”
She stopped and scowled at them. “Honestly, you two are incorrigible. You always think that Snape is up to something, and guess what? He never is. Besides, even if I wanted to do something, I’d have no idea what to do.”
“Stand up to him! Let him know that you won’t let him push you around anymore.”
“And get detention? No thanks. You two may have time to spare, but I can think of better things to do than polishing trophies with Filch.” She was becoming rather upset. “It’s not worth it.”
Harry shrugged. “Fine. Maybe I just value my dignity more than you do yours.”
Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it again.
“Ron and I are going to go finish our essays for McGonagall, we’ll see you at dinner” and with that Harry and Ron turned and walked down the hallway.
Hermione made her way to Ancient Runes, seething. Where did Harry get off - telling her that she needed to stand up to Snape? Did that ever turn out well? No! Harry and Ron always ended up with horrible detentions when they butted heads with their Professor. Hermione had homework; she didn’t have time for that sort of thing. She’d kept her mouth shut – exactly as she should have. After all, she really shouldn’t have been doing Neville’s work for him.
Even so… she couldn’t deny that there was some truth in what Harry and Ron said. Snape did seem to be picking on her more than usual this year; and more and more as time went on. A few days ago, he had taken fifteen points from her because she’d dropped a book on the ground while the class was studying quietly. Before that, he had taken ten points from her for tying her shoe in a busy corridor. “For obstructing traffic” he had said. And she had to admit to herself (even if she wouldn’t to Ron), he did seem to be staring at her quite a bit. It was very unnerving to look up in the middle of a potion to find him glowering at her.
She shivered, trying to shake the unease that she felt when she thought of how he looked at her. At any rate, it didn’t do any good to dwell on it. All she could do was work hard in potions and hope that Snape would ignore her. She shook her head, and tried to think about Ancient Runes.
******
The next day Hermione was determined to be as inconspicuous during potions as possible. If she didn’t give Snape a reason to notice her, then he wouldn’t have any reason to take points. She’d do her work (only her work) and keep her mouth shut. She even resolved to abstain from answering every question; she could always do that in her other classes. Snape never appreciated her answers anyway. This strategy seemed to work, and Potions went quite well that day… at first.
They were making the Draught of Deception which, as Professor Snape explained, would allow a person to lie without any physical symptoms (rapid blinking/eye movements, facial flush, perspiration, etc). Unfortunately, the potion was almost completely useless because it needed to be taken just before the lie; subsequently given away the lie entirely. However, the brewing of this potion used many of the techniques that they had recently been learning, so it was a good overview for the class.
By the time three quarters of the period had gone by, Hermione was easily a step or two ahead of her peers and feeling optimistic. Her potion was turning out beautifully, and so far the class had gone without a hitch. It might have continued on this vein, had she not noticed something strange and potentially dangerous about the instructions that Snape had left on the chalkboard. Step sixteen implemented the use of powdered dragon’s tooth, but the warning that should have succeeded the instruction seemed to be missing.
Practically anything made from dragon parts could prove to be extremely volatile in one way or another, including dragon’s tooth, which would burst into flame with even the slightest contact with liquid. It had to be added in very small amounts to prevent burns.
Hermione furrowed her brow. Surely Professor Snape had meant to be clearer on this subject. He hated when students injured themselves in his class (if only because it annoyed him), and was generally very clear with warnings. She looked around the room and noticed that several students were nearing the point where they would add the powdered dragon’s tooth. She would have to speak up.
Though very reluctant to disturb Professor Snape, Hermione raised her hand and cleared her throat loudly.
He did not look up.
She raised her hand higher. “Professor?”
Snape merely shuffled the parchment he was grading.
“Professor? Please… it’s important.”
Snape raised his head and started at her darkly. “Miss Granger, what could be so very important that it has caused you to neglect your studies as well as interrupt my work?” He set down his papers and stood up slowly, his hands still resting on his desk so that his back was slightly hunched. His black eyes bored into her, causing her stomach to flip.
“Sir-” Hermione squeaked, loosing her resolve. “Sir, please, the dragon’s tooth could…”
But before she could finish, she was interrupted by an enormous boom from Seamus Finnigan’s work station. Seamus let out a scream, and when the smoke cleared, Hermione could see that his face was badly burnt. His eyebrows and half his hair were now singed away.
“Fool of a boy!” roared Snape, “What did you think you were doing, adding all that dragon’s tooth at once? Mr. Thomas, escort him to the infirmary at once.”
Hermione stood in shock as Seamus was lead away crying. “Professor, that’s what I was trying to tell you! If you’d have only listened to me–”
“Miss Granger!” He cut her off, “Everyone is this classroom should know the dangers of dragon’s tooth. We have used it on multiple occasions. There is no excuse for Mr. Finnigan’s ignorance.” He looked at her coldly and went back to his work.
“But Sir,” she pressed, “surely as a Professor you should always warn us when we use such dangerous materials!”
Snape hesitated before slowly looking up, an awful sneer set on his face. “We have discussed this before Miss Granger,” he growled “You, no matter how you might see yourself, are not the teacher of this class. You are a blathering, know-it-all student, and as such you have no right to tell me what, and what not, to do. Furthermore, you are no longer a child.”
There was a long, strange pause as he stared at her with that same look that made her so uneasy. “And I am certainly not your parent. Do not expect me to hold your hand and catch every mistake that you make. You are an adult, it’s time you start acting like one. Thirty more points from Gryffindor for your insolence. You will please continue with your work, and not bother me again.”
The Slytherins of the class laughed loudly (Draco Malfoy the loudest of all, calling out “Blathering! So true!”) while the Gryffindors groaned at Hermione losing still more house points.
“Yes sir” Hermione mumbled, her face burning with anger and embarrassment. Thirty points? That horrible hateful man. She hadn’t been suggesting that Snape coddle them, just that he… oh never mind. What was the use justifying herself? No matter what she said or did, Snape would always be cruel and unfair. She stirred her potion furiously. She wished that she could tell him off… just once, but no. She’d simply have to deal with it. She would graduate in one more year, after all. Then she could never see him again, if she wanted, and that would be that.
And that might have been that, had she not happened to glance at Harry, who was shaking his head in a disapproving sort of way. Hermione suddenly felt very hot and a little light headed. Before she even realized what she was doing, she marched up to the front of the classroom and slammed her hands down on the Professor’s desk.
Snape dropped his quill and stared at her with affronted surprise. “Miss Granger! What the devil do you think you’re doing? Return to your seat.”
“I will NOT return to my seat!” She slammed her hand down on the desk again. “You have been singling me out to embarrass and ridicule all year, and I’m tired of it. I’m the top of my class, and yet you take more points from me than anyone else in my year! I want this to stop.” She pointed her index finger right at his big nose. “You are a terrible bully Professor, and I am not going to take it any longer.”
The entire class gasped in shock at the star student yelling at a teacher.
Snape narrowed his eyes at her hand, but didn’t say anything.
She wasn’t sure what she expected him to do… but it wasn’t this. She stood there, pointing at him, for what seemed like ages. The class started murmuring behind her, and Hermione started to feel very foolish.
She shifted her feet and wondered if she should put her hand down.
Finally, Snape spoke. “So… a bully am I, Miss Granger?”
Without warning, he stood, and Hermione pulled back her arm like she’d been bitten. He quickly walked around his desk and stopped, only inches away from her. He was so close that she could smell the chemical scent of potions on his robes and, if she had wanted to, touch the slight stubble on his face.
Smell his robes? Touch his face? Her defiance melted away, and her eyes grew wide with anxiety and confusion. What on earth was she thinking?
“You clearly have no idea how much of a bully I can really be…” He hissed, too quietly for the class to hear. “But don’t worry, Granger, you’ll soon find out.”
Hermione suddenly felt like she was burning all over. She thought that her face must have been bright red, but she couldn’t help it. He was just so close, and so tall that it seemed as though he was towering over her. His black eyes, usually so frigid, were now full of an even blacker promise. At this moment she would have easily lost five-hundred points if it had meant she could be anywhere else. She wanted to back away from him, but her feet felt as though they were rooted to the spot.
After what felt like an eternity, he raised his voice a little, and his eyes reverted to their usual cold, forbidding state. “Detentions with me, every night for two weeks, starting tonight at 7:00. In addition, you will get a zero for today’s class work, seeing as you are leaving immediately.”
The spell was broken, and Hermione hurried back to her caldron. Her heart was practically beating out of her chest as she packed up her things as quickly as possible. At the moment she didn’t care that she’d gotten a zero in class today, nor did she care about the detentions. She was just glad to be away from Snape.
Her mind was racing as she sped out of the classroom. What had just happened? Never in her life had she been more scared of a teacher. Not in her first year, when they had thought that Snape was conspiring against Dumbledore. Not in her second, when she had stolen supplies from Snape’s private stores. Not even in her third, when their werewolf Defense teacher, Professor Lupin, had transformed right in front of her eyes. All of those incidents had been nerve-wracking or frightening, to be sure, but they had also held a childish thrill of adventure.
But this… this was very different. The way he looked at her had told her something – had made her feel something foreign and adult. She couldn’t explain it because she didn’t understand it; and that’s what scared her the most.
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