Hermione quickly lowered her eyes to her bubbling cauldron as Severus Snape swiftly walked by and peered at the contents. She inwardly sighed with relief when he merely grunted and moved towards the next cauldron. No sneering remarks whatsoever, her potion was impeccable, not that she doubted she couldn't have made it, but with Snape it was just plain vanity to presume everything was all right.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger." The dungeon went quiet as Hermione's head snapped up, staring in disbelief at the ugly sneer that had spread on the Potion Master's thin sallow face.

"B-but why..." she stammered, at loss for any explanation.

"I have told you before to not help Mr. Longbottom with the concoction of his potions. It is an insult that you thought of getting away with this," he hissed at her, "it is more then obvious that Longbottom could never create this potion on his own. Yet there it is, absolutely perfect to the last simmering bubble. How on earth could this happen?" he asked in a mock tone, turning towards the class.

"Sir, because Granger helped him, sir," Malfoy drawled, proud of his deduction.

Snape's lip curled, "Very good, Malfoy, ten points to Slytherin." Draco smirked, while Hermione was growing a shade of deep-red, furious at this injustice. If she hadn't helped Neville his cauldron would have exploded and they would have lost house-points too, there was just no way to win in Snape's class.

"Now." He turned back to Hermione. "Since you seem to enjoy making this potion, you can make it again." He casually gave his wand a small wave and the contents of Hermione's cauldron vanished. She looked up at him in pure shock. She had just spent an entire hour perfecting it and now it was just gone. "You have exactly fifteen minutes left before class ends, I suggest you start right away, Miss Granger," he sneered, stalking back to his desk.

"You... you bastard," she said. The class seemed to be sucking in a collective breath, even the Slytherins were more horrified then content. Snape froze mid-way towards his desk and turned about sharply, drawing himself up to his full length.

"What did you say, Miss Granger?" He breathed in her face. Hermione saw Harry motion hysterically out of the corner of her eye, but she ignored him and looked up in Snape's beetle-black eyes.

"I said: bastard," she repeated matter-of-factly. If Snape ever had any color in his face it was now bound to be gone, he gripped the desk and his knuckles went even whiter then they usually were.

"One-hundred points from Gryffindor," he hissed, "and detention for an entire month, eight O' clock." She didn't flinch and kept defying him with her chestnut eyes. "You will remove yourself from this classroom immediately and you will receive zero marks for today's and tomorrow's assignments ."

"Fine," she spat and packed up her things.

"Hermione," she heard Ron say in disbelief.

"What?" she snapped at him.

"Unless you wish to join Miss Granger in detention Weasley, I suggest you tend to your potion that is now sprouting orange fluids all over your desk." Ron gulped and turned away from Hermione quickly.

Hermione kicked the dungeon door shut, hurting her foot badly, but she was too angry to even notice the throbbing pain in her big toe. She stormed to Gryffindor Tower, throwing her bag on a chair, scaring the wits out of Crookshanks who had been napping there.

Detention: great, she thought, detention with Snape: awesome. She sighed and decided to have a quick shower before dinner.

***

The Great Hall was buzzing with excited voices, enjoying a bit of freedom after a hard day of classes. Hermione sank on a seat between Harry and Ron, scaring them with her rather uncommon silence. Still angry she sneaked a quick peek at Snape, he was drinking slowly from his cup, his eyes inspecting the Gryffindor House Table, halting on Hermione's frame. He lowered his cup and smirked at her, clearly satisfied she was still seething. She looked down at her plate and the food around her, not feeling hungry she got up and left the Dining Hall, fixing everyone's attention on her. The 'bastard-story' had quickly spread amongst the students, and when George and Fred Weasley started clapping all the other students joined in, except the Slytherins of course.

Hermione blushed under all this sympathy and appreciation; she quickened her pace and felt relieved when she reached the Common Room. Next on the agenda: detention. How absolutely corking.

***

Five to eight. Hermione reached the dungeons and regretted not wearing an extra jumper, it was extremely cold down there in the evenings. She paused in front of Snape's classroom, took a deep breath and knocked firmly.

"Enter," came an all too familiar voice. She rolled her eyes and entered the cold room, closing the door hesitantly, not wanting to be trapped. Snape was sitting at his desk, grading papers and frowning as he read yet another abysmal essay.

"Sit down, Miss Granger," he said without looking up, "or do you intend to stay glued to that door all night?" Hermione blushed and shuffled towards the lone desk standing in the middle of the empty classroom, right in front of Snape's nose. She sat down and stared expectantly up at him.

"You will write a five inch essay about how it is not an asset in life to be an insufferable know-it-all and how it is only to the detriment of others." Not once had he looked up. Hermione sat with her arms crossed, staring at him, barely blinking. "I do not hear your quill scratching Miss Granger," he said, slight anger filtering through his voice, "Is something wrong?" He looked up.

Ha Victory, I forced him to look at me.

"It is only, sir, that I find this essay a complete waste of time, surely there is something else I c-"

"Miss Granger!" he roared, standing up, nearly knocking his desk over. "What do you think this is," he whispered, regaining control of himself, "an amusement park? This is detention, Miss Granger, purely created for the sole purpose of wasting time. Now get on with it, silly girl, before I deduct more points from your House!"

"No," she stated simply. Severus Snape froze in absolute disbelief. He knocked over his desk with a flick of his wand and it came crashing towards her, knocking her off her feet. He grasped one of her wrists, causing her to wince in pain, as he lowered his face to her level. Never had she seen Snape so close, his eyes locked with hers and she could see... he was going to kill her. Fright overtook here as she tried to break free, but this only resulted in him tightening his pincer-like grip on her.

She felt his hot breath on her face, as the tips of their noses met. His eyes were filled with anger, contempt and murdering rage. Suddenly he became aware of exactly how close he was standing to this insufferable, yet brilliant young woman, the expression in his eyes changed drastically. She saw, to her great shock, fear. Fear so soft, yet so dangerous. They were standing in the middle of the dungeon, locked as a statue, his hand still holding her wrist firmly. Her breath quickened and she opened her mouth to speak, she had to say something, anything.

He placed his wand on her lips. "Don't you dare speak, " he whispered, in a strangled voice. Hermione looked into his eyes again, idon't speak/i, she thought, as his thin lips crushed her own in a desperate kiss.