"Miss Granger." His voice is liquid ice, trickling down her spine. Hermione shuddered.

"Yes Professor?" She said. Her hand was frozen in mid-air, above Neville's cauldron. She contemplated moving it slowly away, but decided that staying still was the less dangerous option. She felt like a rabbit caught in headlights.

"What, may I ask, do you think you are doing?"

She paused to think, for a moment.

"Well you see sir," she started, "I wasn't quite sure if the fumes my potion was emitting were the right temperature, so I thought I'd compare them with someone else's."

"Do you mean to say," Snape said, "That you, Griffindor's resident know-it-all, were unsure of your potions brewing skills, so you decided to check you work against that of Mr Longbottom, Griffindor's resident bumbling idiot?"

Hermione hesitated a second before nodding.

"Yes Sir."

Snape cocked an eyebrow at her, turned, and stalked to the front of the room, robes billowing in his wake.

"Griffindors," he said, and everyone in the class looked up, "note that 20 points will be taken from your house for Miss Grangers cheek, 30 points for lying, and 50 points for, once again, helping Mr Longbottom with his work."

There was a collective groan amongst the Griffindors, and a ripple of laughter passed through the Slytherins. Hermione stared at Snape, who was now sitting at his desk marking, with her mouth hanging open.

"Sir?" She said, meaning to protest against such a huge punishment for such a small evil. Snape looked up, his lip curling at the sight of her raised hand.

"Ah yes, Miss Granger, I almost forgot. You will serve detention with me, starting on Saturday, every evening from 8 o'clock, for a week.

Hermione dropped her hand and it fell, with a dull thud, on the bench top.

She opened her mouth to argue, but Harry kicked he inder the table. She looked at him, and he shook his head.

"Was there something else, Miss Granger?" Snape said, sneering at her.

"Uh…" She said, faltering. Then, with a quick glance at Harry, she lifted her chin and said, in a steady voice, "8 o'clock tomorrow, Sir?"

He inclined his head in reply.

"It's a date." She said.

He stared at her, black eyes locking with brown. She shivered, willing herself not to look away. Snape ignored the Slytherins snickering, and said, in a voice that betrayed nothing, "Yes, it is." Before going back to his marking.

Hermione mentally congratulated herself for not losing anymore points, then bent her head over her work and concentrated on going unnoticed for the rest of the class.