Nobody Cared Enough !

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 14 (Pt 2)

30 Sept 1991 - Monday

Monday morning brought September to a close and restlessness to all the classes. Snape felt like Potions were the worst this Monday, and having to face first years was only encouraging the migraine that threatened.

He had taken points from several Gryffindor girls that were whispering nasty comments under their breaths about Hermione Granger; their teacher had exceptional hearing! It had also been in the middle of his lecture, and that was intolerable.

As soon as all his students were settled upon their benches and brewing the simple Wit-Sharpening Potion Snape began to pace up and down the aisle of students. His pace appeared relaxed but he hand shot out like a cobra and caught Ronald Weasley by his wrist. In his hand was a sprig of mint.

"Ow!" complained the Gryffindor with a scowl as he tried to release his wrist from his teacher's iron grip.

"Mr. Weasley," intoned Snape in that dark voice of his that bode ill for whomever it was aimed at. "Can you tell me what the result would be in the folly of you putting that sprig of mint into Mr. Malfoy's potion at this point in the brewing?"

Ronald's eyes flitted angrily toward Draco as if him being caught was was the Slytherin boy's fault and he expected him to answer. Draco had listened to the lecture so he just sneered at the youngest Weasley.

"Obviously you do not know the answer," Snape's voice cut sharply, "or you would not have attempted such a suicidal stunt." Snape dropped the boy's wrist and snatched the mint sprig from his fingers. "Thirty points from Gryffindor and a week's worth of detention, Mr. Weasley." He then turned on the boy and gave him an evil smirk, "With Filch."

"Bloody...!" Ronald's imprecation was cut off as Dean Thomas slapped a hand over his mouth.

Before Dean could say anything Snape walked toward the front of the class and smoothly intoned, "And another ten points for language, Mr. Weasley."

"Good going, you prat!" hissed Lavender Brown, who was usually one of the redhead's admirers.

Snape whirled sharply at his desk and pinned a stony gaze upon Miss Brown, who gulped audibly. "Would anyone like to tell me the answer to my question?" When no one raised a hand, Snape moved his gaze to Hermione. He gave her a thin smile that some children called his 'sour stomach smile'. There was encouragement in his eyes, though, that smoothed Snape's expression. "Miss Granger? Would you enlighten us, perhaps?"

Hermione smiled nervously, then replied with confidence, "The mint sprig would react with the Armadillo Bile causing poisonous fumes."

"Five points, Miss Granger." He gave the girl a nod of approval and she grinned happily at Draco and Harry. Meanwhile, Snape returned his dead-eye gaze back to Ronald Weasley. "Congratulations, Mr. Weasley. You nearly killed all of your classmates. A pity you would not have survived for a stint in Azkaban."

Snape was pleased to see that the boy paled suitably.

Snape pointed at Messrs. Thomas and Finnegan directing them to empty desks away from their cohort. He then stared down at the youngest Weasley. "Tell me this, Mr. Weasley, what are the ingredients in the Wit-Sharpening Potion?"

Ron grimaced, gave a quick look to the disarray of ingredients on his table, and refused to answer. Snape's lips thinned at the flash of insolence and hatred in the child's eyes. Ronald Weasley was a child Snape believed he could truly despise. The boy was loose-lipped, rude, and rarely reigned in his temper when he ought. His association with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan had brought out the bully in him. The three Gryffindors had taken to teasing and bullying Hermione and then Neville Longbottom simply because the round-cheeked boy had chosen to sit with the bushy-haired girl.