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Well, as always, time has gotten the better of me. I've been very busy lately (what with my one woman feud with the U.S. military and my rather annoying scramblings to save the job I don't even like in the first place) and have managed to finish new chapters in both of my current WIPs (Hidden Emotions chapter 19 should be on-line by Monday or Tuesday night) - but I really wanted to attempt ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shiv5468's Proper Detention Challenge on WIKTT.
The deadline is today. I've only written the first part of what was supposed to be a one-shot. And my beta hasn't even had a chance to do more than glance at what I have. I'll be posting at Ashwinder and AFF when Beta!Beck has a chance to do her thing.
So - in a last ditch effort to get something posted before the deadline - I give you Part One of
One Final Detention
“Of all the imbecilic things you two have dragged me into over the last seven years this ... this tops them all! What were you thinking?” Hermione Granger glared at the two young men before her, both trying desperately to stifle their laughter.
Ordinarily the sight of an obviously disgruntled witch covered in globs of rapidly melting snow would have caused Hermione to smile, if not join Harry and Ron in laughter. But not today, not when the disgruntled (and rapidly approaching furious) witch was Hermione herself.
She drew a hand across her forehead, displacing a chunk of snow that threatened to melt into her eye. The icy cold sludge did nothing to cool the heat of her skin as she worked herself into a frenzy. “What the bleedin' hell possessed you to think it would be a good idea to summon an ice sprite in the girls' lavatory the day before we bloody-well leave Hogwarts forever? Shut it, Ron, I'm not done yet.” She stabbed her finger at the redhead's sternum hard enough to make him wince and to cause his wide grin to droop.
Hermione turned, arms flung wide to encompass the snow drifts in the nearby corridor, the frozen water cascade where the first toilet stall should have been (and, thanks to the mischievously dangerous sprite, now was not) and the crystalline particles still blowing around the room as the remnants of the ice sprite's magic continued to work.
“You summoned a dangerous creature on school grounds without thought about safety or containment or ... or ... anything! And when things got out of hand, you ran to me for help because reliable, dull Hermione has nothing better to do than save your arses.
“It's not too late for us to be expelled, you know.”
Harry smiled reassuringly, “We won't get expelled, Hermione. We defeated Vold...”
“Cram it, Harry.” She spun around to look him in the face. “You can't really be planning to live off that for the rest of your life, can you? Besides, that may work for the Boy-Who-Lived, but Ron and I don't have that luxury.
“I've worked very hard to earn some respect in this world and I will not have you ruining that. Now, what in Merlin's name convinced you two to perform this ... this act of stupidity?”
“An excellent question, Miss Granger. One, I must confess, that I am anxious to have answered as well.”
Hermione didn't need the look of horror on Ron's face to realize Professor Snape was standing behind her. She would recognize that low, velvety voice anywhere.
Slowly, she turned. Overwhelming dread at being caught – by him, especially – did more to dampen her anger than anything the boys could have said or done.
Professor Snape was standing in the open doorway, shoulder braced against the jamb, arms crossed. He looked deceptively casual for a man who held the fate of his least favorite students in the palm of his hand.
“Weasely, Potter – an explanation, if you please.” Severus' sardonic tone
left no doubt that he was asking for his own amusement; that there was no excuse they could come up with that would forestall punishment.
Ron looked to Hermione for help and found none. “Erm ... It was hot?”
Severus caught the murderous glint in Hermione's eyes and quickly stepped between her and the boys.
“Warm though it may be, Weasely, that is no excuse for destroying school property and endangering the lives of your fellow students. Miss Granger was correct in stating that it is not too late for you all to be expelled.”
Hermione's gasp and the look of shock on Weasely and Potter's faces almost made up for what he was about to do, thought Severus.
“However much it would please me to be the one to send the Dream Team home in disgrace – and be positive that I would find great pleasure in it – you are leaving my sight for good tomorrow and I'm feeling generous.” He gave them a moment to consider his words.
“One final detention with Mr. Filch, boys. I'm sure he will appreciate your assistance when he attempts to root vermin out of the plumbing this evening.
“As for you, Miss Granger. It would be a shame to waste what Professor McGonagall insists is one of the most promising young witches of this century on so menial a task.”
His words poured out like acid, making Hermione want to burst at the injustice of it all.
“You will be in my office immediately after the Leaving Feast. Do not be late.
“Clean this up, all of you. And fifty points from Gryffindor. A piece.”
– ~ –
Cleaning up the mess left by the ice sprite took most of the day. Hermione had barely enough time to shower and change into clean, dry clothes before the Leaving Feast.
Ron and Harry had spent the entire afternoon bemoaning their fates until she had felt her patience snap.
“Considering what he could have done, you're getting off lightly, you twits.” Hermione had stood with her hands on her hips, and lectured them like the first years they insisted on acting like. “You deserve worse. You don't have to spend your last evening here cleaning cauldrons and Merlin knows what else for Professor Snape. At least you two get to serve your detention together.”
The boys had exchanged a look and before she could brace herself they had pulled her to the ground and begun tickling her mercilessly.
The ensuing battle had ended with the three collapsed in a damp, giggling heap.
“We really are sorry for getting you in trouble, 'Mione. You know that, right?” Harry had looked up at her from his resting place on her stomach, his eyes wide behind his glasses.
She had affectionately rubbed his hair before reaching back to do the same to the redhead whose belly she was using as a pillow.
“I know.”
Unfortunately, that did nothing to help her present situation.
She filled her plate automatically, lost in thought. It was only as the first forkful of potatoes approached her lips that she realized she had no appetite.
Her stomach revolted at the thought of food and she carefully lowered the fork back to her plate.
Ron and Harry seemed to have no such trouble, the food disappearing from their plates at record speed. Getting into trouble was second nature to them. Just watching them eat was making her feel queasy.
To distract herself Hermione looked toward the High Table. Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore were talking. Before Hermione could look away, Professor McGonagall glanced toward the Gryffindor table and made eye contact. The motherly smile she wore faded into the stern press of lips Hermione had grown quiet familiar with.
It seemed that word of how Gryffindor had lost a hundred and fifty points in a single afternoon had reached the professor.
Hermione quickly looked further down the table. That charlatan Trelawney was staring pensively at her plate. One thin, bone-like finger poked at the small pile of beans. Trelawney bent closer to her plate and began muttering to herself.
*Wacko.* Hermione rolled her eyes and moved on to the next professor.
The professor who appeared to be watching her with the barest hint of amusement on his face.
Professor Snape tilted his head a fraction and gave a half nod in acknowledgment.
Hermione felt her throat dry up and her cheeks flush. Her nerves were shot, anxiety over her upcoming detention was playing havoc with her system.
*It's purely psychosomatic. Calm down. What are you so anxious about? He can't hurt you. It's three or four hours of your life and then you never have to see him again.*
Oddly enough, that thought made her feel worse.
Suddenly, there was a tremendous racket from the High Table. Hermione – along with everyone else in the Great Hall – looked up in time to see Trelawney pull herself up from the floor, chair overturned. She was gasping for breath and shaking her head as if to forcibly refocus her "Inner Eye". She didn't seem to notice that her hand was firmly planted in the middle of her plate.
Hermione delicately snorted into her napkin.
Even Professor Snape looked concerned. He stood and attempted to right the Divinations instructor's chair at the same time as he offered his hand to her for support.
The instant he gripped her hand she uttered an inarticulate cry and fell backwards, pulling the unprepared Potions Master down with her.
They both disappeared behind the High Table and Hermione was too stunned to laugh.
While she could not see them from her vantage point at the Gryffindor table, she could hear – even over the nervous laughter of the students who found the whole thing hilarious but were still afraid that Professor Snape would suddenly appear above the table and hex them all. The sounds of a scuffle and Trelawney's breathless voice (no doubt issuing another dire warning) drifted through the hall, although Hermione couldn't decipher what the "seer" was saying.
Professor Snape's voice, however, was very clear. “Get off me, you delusional... Do. Not. Touch. Me. Ever. Again.”
He stood, the remnants of Trelawney's dinner splattered across his robes and frock coat. He brushed himself off, straightening his coat and robes.
His icy glare effectively cut the laughter like a flipped switch. Until, that is, one final piece of kidney pie slid down his hair to land with a plop on his shoulder.
A cackling laugh split the absolute quiet of the hall, broken by sporadic wheezes for air.
Professor Snape glared at the Headmaster whose laughter had degenerated into a fit of eerily feminine giggles. The Potions Master shook his head in disbelief before pinching the bridge of his nose as if attempting to ward off a headache.
As the rest of the Great Hall joined a rather giddy Dumbledore in laughter, Snape turned and disappeared through the door behind the High Table.
Hermione couldn't help but laugh along with everyone else, especially when Trelawney finally poked her head up from behind the table. Her confused “Did I do something?” sent Dumbledore into another wave of giggles.
– ~ –
The other half will be coming soon. Let me know what you think.
shiv5468's Proper Detention Challenge on WIKTT. The deadline is today. I've only written the first part of what was supposed to be a one-shot. And my beta hasn't even had a chance to do more than glance at what I have. I'll be posting at Ashwinder and AFF when Beta!Beck has a chance to do her thing.
So - in a last ditch effort to get something posted before the deadline - I give you Part One of
One Final Detention
“Of all the imbecilic things you two have dragged me into over the last seven years this ... this tops them all! What were you thinking?” Hermione Granger glared at the two young men before her, both trying desperately to stifle their laughter.
Ordinarily the sight of an obviously disgruntled witch covered in globs of rapidly melting snow would have caused Hermione to smile, if not join Harry and Ron in laughter. But not today, not when the disgruntled (and rapidly approaching furious) witch was Hermione herself.
She drew a hand across her forehead, displacing a chunk of snow that threatened to melt into her eye. The icy cold sludge did nothing to cool the heat of her skin as she worked herself into a frenzy. “What the bleedin' hell possessed you to think it would be a good idea to summon an ice sprite in the girls' lavatory the day before we bloody-well leave Hogwarts forever? Shut it, Ron, I'm not done yet.” She stabbed her finger at the redhead's sternum hard enough to make him wince and to cause his wide grin to droop.
Hermione turned, arms flung wide to encompass the snow drifts in the nearby corridor, the frozen water cascade where the first toilet stall should have been (and, thanks to the mischievously dangerous sprite, now was not) and the crystalline particles still blowing around the room as the remnants of the ice sprite's magic continued to work.
“You summoned a dangerous creature on school grounds without thought about safety or containment or ... or ... anything! And when things got out of hand, you ran to me for help because reliable, dull Hermione has nothing better to do than save your arses.
“It's not too late for us to be expelled, you know.”
Harry smiled reassuringly, “We won't get expelled, Hermione. We defeated Vold...”
“Cram it, Harry.” She spun around to look him in the face. “You can't really be planning to live off that for the rest of your life, can you? Besides, that may work for the Boy-Who-Lived, but Ron and I don't have that luxury.
“I've worked very hard to earn some respect in this world and I will not have you ruining that. Now, what in Merlin's name convinced you two to perform this ... this act of stupidity?”
“An excellent question, Miss Granger. One, I must confess, that I am anxious to have answered as well.”
Hermione didn't need the look of horror on Ron's face to realize Professor Snape was standing behind her. She would recognize that low, velvety voice anywhere.
Slowly, she turned. Overwhelming dread at being caught – by him, especially – did more to dampen her anger than anything the boys could have said or done.
Professor Snape was standing in the open doorway, shoulder braced against the jamb, arms crossed. He looked deceptively casual for a man who held the fate of his least favorite students in the palm of his hand.
“Weasely, Potter – an explanation, if you please.” Severus' sardonic tone
left no doubt that he was asking for his own amusement; that there was no excuse they could come up with that would forestall punishment.
Ron looked to Hermione for help and found none. “Erm ... It was hot?”
Severus caught the murderous glint in Hermione's eyes and quickly stepped between her and the boys.
“Warm though it may be, Weasely, that is no excuse for destroying school property and endangering the lives of your fellow students. Miss Granger was correct in stating that it is not too late for you all to be expelled.”
Hermione's gasp and the look of shock on Weasely and Potter's faces almost made up for what he was about to do, thought Severus.
“However much it would please me to be the one to send the Dream Team home in disgrace – and be positive that I would find great pleasure in it – you are leaving my sight for good tomorrow and I'm feeling generous.” He gave them a moment to consider his words.
“One final detention with Mr. Filch, boys. I'm sure he will appreciate your assistance when he attempts to root vermin out of the plumbing this evening.
“As for you, Miss Granger. It would be a shame to waste what Professor McGonagall insists is one of the most promising young witches of this century on so menial a task.”
His words poured out like acid, making Hermione want to burst at the injustice of it all.
“You will be in my office immediately after the Leaving Feast. Do not be late.
“Clean this up, all of you. And fifty points from Gryffindor. A piece.”
Cleaning up the mess left by the ice sprite took most of the day. Hermione had barely enough time to shower and change into clean, dry clothes before the Leaving Feast.
Ron and Harry had spent the entire afternoon bemoaning their fates until she had felt her patience snap.
“Considering what he could have done, you're getting off lightly, you twits.” Hermione had stood with her hands on her hips, and lectured them like the first years they insisted on acting like. “You deserve worse. You don't have to spend your last evening here cleaning cauldrons and Merlin knows what else for Professor Snape. At least you two get to serve your detention together.”
The boys had exchanged a look and before she could brace herself they had pulled her to the ground and begun tickling her mercilessly.
The ensuing battle had ended with the three collapsed in a damp, giggling heap.
“We really are sorry for getting you in trouble, 'Mione. You know that, right?” Harry had looked up at her from his resting place on her stomach, his eyes wide behind his glasses.
She had affectionately rubbed his hair before reaching back to do the same to the redhead whose belly she was using as a pillow.
“I know.”
Unfortunately, that did nothing to help her present situation.
She filled her plate automatically, lost in thought. It was only as the first forkful of potatoes approached her lips that she realized she had no appetite.
Her stomach revolted at the thought of food and she carefully lowered the fork back to her plate.
Ron and Harry seemed to have no such trouble, the food disappearing from their plates at record speed. Getting into trouble was second nature to them. Just watching them eat was making her feel queasy.
To distract herself Hermione looked toward the High Table. Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore were talking. Before Hermione could look away, Professor McGonagall glanced toward the Gryffindor table and made eye contact. The motherly smile she wore faded into the stern press of lips Hermione had grown quiet familiar with.
It seemed that word of how Gryffindor had lost a hundred and fifty points in a single afternoon had reached the professor.
Hermione quickly looked further down the table. That charlatan Trelawney was staring pensively at her plate. One thin, bone-like finger poked at the small pile of beans. Trelawney bent closer to her plate and began muttering to herself.
*Wacko.* Hermione rolled her eyes and moved on to the next professor.
The professor who appeared to be watching her with the barest hint of amusement on his face.
Professor Snape tilted his head a fraction and gave a half nod in acknowledgment.
Hermione felt her throat dry up and her cheeks flush. Her nerves were shot, anxiety over her upcoming detention was playing havoc with her system.
*It's purely psychosomatic. Calm down. What are you so anxious about? He can't hurt you. It's three or four hours of your life and then you never have to see him again.*
Oddly enough, that thought made her feel worse.
Suddenly, there was a tremendous racket from the High Table. Hermione – along with everyone else in the Great Hall – looked up in time to see Trelawney pull herself up from the floor, chair overturned. She was gasping for breath and shaking her head as if to forcibly refocus her "Inner Eye". She didn't seem to notice that her hand was firmly planted in the middle of her plate.
Hermione delicately snorted into her napkin.
Even Professor Snape looked concerned. He stood and attempted to right the Divinations instructor's chair at the same time as he offered his hand to her for support.
The instant he gripped her hand she uttered an inarticulate cry and fell backwards, pulling the unprepared Potions Master down with her.
They both disappeared behind the High Table and Hermione was too stunned to laugh.
While she could not see them from her vantage point at the Gryffindor table, she could hear – even over the nervous laughter of the students who found the whole thing hilarious but were still afraid that Professor Snape would suddenly appear above the table and hex them all. The sounds of a scuffle and Trelawney's breathless voice (no doubt issuing another dire warning) drifted through the hall, although Hermione couldn't decipher what the "seer" was saying.
Professor Snape's voice, however, was very clear. “Get off me, you delusional... Do. Not. Touch. Me. Ever. Again.”
He stood, the remnants of Trelawney's dinner splattered across his robes and frock coat. He brushed himself off, straightening his coat and robes.
His icy glare effectively cut the laughter like a flipped switch. Until, that is, one final piece of kidney pie slid down his hair to land with a plop on his shoulder.
A cackling laugh split the absolute quiet of the hall, broken by sporadic wheezes for air.
Professor Snape glared at the Headmaster whose laughter had degenerated into a fit of eerily feminine giggles. The Potions Master shook his head in disbelief before pinching the bridge of his nose as if attempting to ward off a headache.
As the rest of the Great Hall joined a rather giddy Dumbledore in laughter, Snape turned and disappeared through the door behind the High Table.
Hermione couldn't help but laugh along with everyone else, especially when Trelawney finally poked her head up from behind the table. Her confused “Did I do something?” sent Dumbledore into another wave of giggles.
The other half will be coming soon. Let me know what you think.
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From:
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Nicely done!
Ah, I also hope you don't mind that I friended you - I read over your last few entries and your sense of humor in the face of some rather frustrating circumstances is just too appealing to resist. ;)
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More?
BTW devsgma, that's a beautiful icon ^.^
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As to what's been going on in my household lately, if I didn't find the humor I'd probably end up strangling people at work and hiding the bodies in the dressing room. Which is a sure fire way to get fired, or so I've been told.
I hope you don't mind if I friend you back.
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lol - Only if you get caught. ;)
I hope you don't mind if I friend you back.
Not a bit.
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Hell, I've missed it. :-)
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