Snape's Match

Lia was not happy, however, when a smirking blond boy delivered a note to her before she got to the Gryffindor common room. Her three friends came running up.
“What did Malfoy want with you, Lia?”
“I dunno,” Lia said, and ripped open the letter. In looping, spidery writing, Professor Snape informed her that she had detention that very evening.
“Oh my God! No way!”
“What?” Three pairs of hands snatched at the parchment, and Hermione read it out.
Miss Fitzgerald,
I am sorry to inform you that you have detention tonight at eight o’clock in my office, due to your insolent display in my class. May I congratulate you on your excellent start to the year.
Professor S. Snape
Lia could almost hear that silky voice wrapping itself around the sarcastic last line, and her hands balled into fists.
“That absolute bastard!” roared Ron. “Doesn’t he get it when he’s beaten?”
“What does the S. stand for, guys?” Lia asked, curious. Trust Snape to have alliterative names.
“Severus,” Hermione informed her.
“Snivellus, more like,” sniggered Harry. “Look, Lia, I’m really sorry about the detention. I feel justified in saying it’s gonna be the worst one Snape’s ever doled out.”
Hermione and Ron nodded fervently.

Lia’s feet drd tod to Snape’s office at eight o’clock. She dawdled outside until she was sure it was five minutes past. No need to make him think she was going down easily.
Two knocks and the sarcastic voice told her to enter. Snape did not look up as she came in.
“You are late, Miss Fitzgerald. Five minutes late, so we’ll make that ten points from Gryffindor, shall we? Dear dear, not having a good day of it, are we?”
Lia thought about several painful curses.
“Sit down”
“Where, Professor?” Lia asked, defiantly.
Snape’s eyes narrowed, and his lip curled. “Where do you think, girl, at the desk.”
Lia moved reluctantly towards the new chair Snape had drawn up next to him at the large desk. She sat, and tried to move it as far away from him as possible.
“You have shown some aptitude in potion-making, and therefore I am willing to let you write the labels for my new acquisitions.” Snape’s voice was too close.
“I think you’ll find there’s more than enough for you to do, I believe there are several thousand specimens to catalogued.”
Lia looked around at him, shocked. How was she supposed to do that in one evening?
Almost as though reading her mind, Snape chuckled evilly. “Perhaps you were under the impression this was your only detention?”
Lia sat frozen in her seat, waiting for the sentence to fall.
“You’ll be here all week, I think, and we might as well allow the whole of Saturday to make sure you get the job done properly.”
Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Lia was showing it in her face, and quickly rearranged it so that it was blank. Turmoil reigned in her mind, however. That evil, malicious, sadistic, attractive – Where’d that come from? Lia shook her head slightly to get that unwanted thought out, completely unaware of the effect her moving tendrils of hair had on Snape. The play of light on them fascinated him…it was almost as if – but what was he thinking? She had humiliated him, in front of his whole class; she was in Gryffindor for God’s sake! But something about her…
Four long hours later, he finally let her go. Lia’s mind was buzzing tiredly with names of obscure potions or ingredients, and she didn’t at first notice Snape was seeing her to the door.
At the threshold she decided on a little calculated sarcasm.
“Thank you for a delightful evening, Professor!” she managed in a falsely bright voice.
She might have almost sworn there was a glint of amusement in his eyes, those coal-black ones…her clear grey eyes moved onto them and they held her, rooted to the spot. It was as if those eyes were telling her something, buried deep in their depths. In fact, they were almost familiar. With a massive effort she tore her gaze away and nearly ran down the deserted corridor to Gryffindor Tower.
That night the dream came to her again, and she woke sweating and shaking.