Those Feelings

ÿþThe students waited anxiously outside the professor's door. No one was stupid enough to open his door without his permission; not even the slytherins. Unless they wanted a month's detention. Or even worst. Several students quickly took the chance they had to review their essay, making corrections where necessary. Harry was about to scribble something on his parchment when the door swung open with a loud bang. Too late, Harry thought. The three friends quickly exchanged nervous glances towards each other. They knew the day wasn't going to give such a wonderful start. "Enter." A seething voice called from afar. The students slowly but silently made their way towards their respective seats. Snape made no effort to look away from the blackboard which he bewitched. He knew the order in which they should enter his classroom; and so did the students. He then pointed his wand towards the door which closed with a loud thud. Several students jumped in fear at the sudden noise. With a billow of robes, he stood in front of the students. The tension radiated throughout the room as no one dared to make a sound. "You dunderheads know what term we are in. I have no expectation for the majority of you who cannot even brew a simple first year potion. However, I shall be collecting your essays and grade them accordingly. This grade will be totalled for your final grade." Dark eyes roamed over each student. It paused on a certain green-eyed student whose eyes met his. Snape lift a brow questioningly before he strolled to his desk. "Bring all essays now." The greasy git left no room for excuse. Hermoine glared at them with an I-told you-so look before handing her essay to the professor. A few other students followed after her, in hopes of not being the first of snape's wrath. "See! Now what are you gonna do?" Hermione whispered to Harry who was closest to her. "Dunno." Harry slumped in his seat. Out of all his classes, he dread this one the most. He knew Snape wasn't particularly nice. Everyone knew. But still, there were questionable things which he did for him. The time when he drank a deadly poison, Snape was at his side; a sad expression shown on his features. But when he had noticed the boy composing himself from the reverse potion, he quickly wore his default expression. Ron overheard them and sighed to himself. "Guess we'll just have to take whatever punishment the bloody git plans to give. Harry do-" Ron was immediately held in a firm death grip, with both arms behind him. Professor Snape sneered with disgust and swoop at ear level. They had not notice when he left his desk, to walk directly behind them. Shit& "Is it that you revel punishment? To lose your precious bloody house points? I'm not quite sure your Griffindor commoners would love that." Severus whispered in Ron's ear. The boy could practically feel his hot breath lingering on his right ear. "Er.. N-no Sir." Ron was at a loss for words. Shit. Here comes trouble. "Twenty points from griffindor!" He stood to his feet and flung the boy's hands forward. He strolled to where Harry sat, planted firm hands on the desk. Harry sat still. His eyes met his professor's, trying his best to remain unfazed. The uneasiness however got the best of him, as the man's face came closer to his. Harry's breath hitched. There was a certain glint in Snape's eyes that made him slightly nervous. They were so close that if someone had accidentally pushed anyone of them, their lips would have sealed the distance. Harry had no idea why he suddenly had dry lips. He slowly moistened his lips with his saliva, with obsidian eyes never failed to notice that small action. He wanted to get away. Away from those eyes which he could not quite comprehend. Snape's lips curved into a devious smirk, quite enjoying the boy's reaction. "I take it that you and Mr. Weasley haven't done my homework. Care to explain Potter?" The nasty smirk was now quite visible. He narrowed his eyes at the boy who was still dumbstruck. "A month's detention would do them both good sir." Malfoy and his Slytherin friends sniggered at the now embarrassed Harry. Harry wanted to punch something as his fists curled tightly on his legs. Malfoy would have been his first choice. Ron was too much in a daze to respond. Hermione gave Ron a sympathetic look. "I-I never remembered sir." The Slytherins sniggered all the more. Why was it always him? What was it about him that made people want to poke needles in him? "Never remembered? That's quite something Mr. Potter. To be able to stare me in the eye and mention such folly, deserves more than detention. You deserve discipline. And I will be the one to teach that to you." With one final glance at the startled boy, he made giant steps towards his desk in a billow of robes. Harry never failed at the suggestive tone the professor used in the word 'discipline' He wondered for a split second as to what extent the professor intended to discipline him. "Mr. Weasley, you will scrub all the cauldrons at the end of the day. I will see to it that all the cauldrons, beakers and flask are used." Snape sat in his seat while watching his expression. The professor found it quite amusing. He felt the hatred radiating from the boy. Yes, this is how they should learn; must learn. They should know that he was not a man who tolerated nonsense. "And as for you, Mr. Potter, your road to discipline begins at the end of the day. You are to present yourself at my office no later than 7:00pm. Failure to do so will result in dangerous consequences " With that, Snape instructed everyone to take out the necessary equipments from the utensil locker. Hermione watched both her friends who sat in despair. She knew they were holding back as much as they could. Now wouldn't be a good time to talk to them. "Now, as you can see, the instructions are quite clear on the board as to how to prepare the amilene potion. But before we begin, who is able to tell me its use?" Snape folded both arms, obsidian eyes searching for a volunteer. His eyes met the bushy hair girl whose hand was up the minute he asked. He sighed inwardly realising no one else knew the answer. "Explain Ms. Granger." Being the smartest and the most intelligent never made things easy for her with other students; nevertheless, she stood proudly, with lips twitching in anticipation. "It is a potion used for relaxing an individual who has a hard time coping with certain problems. It is in a class of antidepressant potions Sir." Granger smiled to herself. Ron groaned at her lecturing tone. She was surely something& Hermione shot him a deadly glare, which he purposely ignored, before returning her gaze towards the professor "Indeed so. But for a girl of such class, your boyfriends are surely putting you at risk. Your friendship with them is not quite healthy Ms. Granger." Malfoy and his followers laughed mockingly at the now embarrassed girl, who sat in her seat as quickly as she stood. "Destroy all laughter and bickering and carry on with the experiment. Let's see if anyone has surpassed a dunderhead level." With that, he walked through the rows instructing each student. Harry did his best as to control himself. That bloody bastard knew how to get the worst from him. But today, he will try to make a change; to show that git that his insulting comments could not get the best of him. Today, he will prove to that fucking Snape; no.. that snake, that he was no fucking dunderhead. Harry gathered the ingredients in a wooden mortar, gently pounding them using the pestle. He then set the cauldron to boil the water and busied himself with other tasks. Everyone was quite drained at the completion of their potions. Some had a dangerous swirl to it, some bubbled furiously in the hard test tubes. A student's potion exploded on contact when trying to bottle the putrid liquid. The scent diffused in the air, causing several students to cough uncontrollably. Professor Snape was quite skilled in disposing the filth, witha sharp wave of his wand. Clearing the white fog from view, he tapped his wand on each affected student, who suddenly felt a relief. "It appears there's a bigger dunderhead above all others." Professor Snape sneered nastily at a fragile girl who cried at the loss of her effort. She did her best, but to the greasy got, her best was simply not enough. "To those whose potion swirls a bright yellow, present them to me so that I may grade them. Now!" The irritated professor grabbed his quilt and the grades parchment paper and sat in his seat miserably. Quite a few students carefully placed their potions in front the professor. Harry, Hermione and surprisingly Ron was among the lot. "Next" His tone was quite seething betraying his now composed posture. Harry sighed as he placed the bright yellow swirling liquid in front the professor. Snape snatched it and held it at eye level. He eyed the boy, with no apparent emotion displayed before he gave the liquid one final view. He scribbled on his parchment paper, putting the vials where the other acceptable ones rested. Harry felt a small smirk forming from the base of his lips. He knew he had succeeded. He exchanged glances with his friends who were just as relieved as he was. Snape however kept a watchful eye on the boy, with eyes narrowed. Hermione never failed to notice the glances he gave Harry. She found it& weird. The Hogwarts old owl clock screeched loudly. It was now time for another class. Professor Snape made his final jottings on the parchment, before rolling it neatly, resting his quilt to its side. He stood to his feet instructing the students to carefully place used items aside. Ron knew that he had a lot coming for him at the end of the day, but at least he got a grade, right? Well, not exactly the case& "Potter and Weasley I expect my essay at the end of the day. No later." With a dismissive hand, the students scrambled out the classroom, longing to join with their friends. Harry and Ron groaned in unison, a smiling Hermione patting them on the back. "Well, at least he gave you guys another chance. Be happy." "Hermione, your not helping here."Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. The day has just started, yet he felt as though he ran a mile. With a sigh, they both head towards their second class. Defense Against the Dark Arts.