Ecstasy// Snape

10.

"So we're all good now?" Harry asks worriedly as I twirl a quill in between my fingers.

"Yes, silly of course we are. But next time can you please just tell me how you feel instead of leaving Ron to do it? He's not the best messenger owl," I tease, which causes him to laugh happily.

Suddenly, the DADA doors slam open thunderously, causing both of us to jump. The windows, which let in what little light is shining through the clouds, immediately close; immersing the classroom into a fit of darkness. Footsteps are the only sound reverberating throughout the wide room, and I feel as if I'm in potions class once more. A less than delightful experience from no more than two hours ago.

"Turn to page 394."

Professor Snape whips around, his cape billowing behind in such a gracefully terrifying fashion, which causes my back to stiffen from the motion. His eyes slowly glower at each student individually, which sends everyone into a frenzy of page-flipping. Wonderful, I really am back at potions.

I lower my head down as close as possible to the textbook so as to avoid eye contact with him. Last weekend's stolen midnight dance was as magical as anything I've ever encountered before, leaving me to endlessly lecture myself over my feelings. But the moment I walked into Snape's classroom, he shunned me even more so than when I was openly livid at the man. Last period, I got the opportunity to be continuously badgered, condescended, and laughed at by what I'm sure was not even his full will.

"Sir... this chapter is about werewolves," Hermione's voice calls out behind me, and I can hear a frazzled Ron ask where she came from. "We've hardly begun learning about Grindylows and Red Caps."

"Thank you for informing me of that matter, Miss Granger," Professor Snape spits spitefully. "However I have a different lesson plan than Professor Lupin does. Now, can anyone tell me the difference between a werewolf and an animagus?"

Aside from Hermione, not a single hand raises in the classroom. For the first time today, not even in potions did it occur, professor Snape's eyes land on me. I shift uncomfortably, preparing for the inevitable embarrassment he's about to endure upon me. Without even having to utter a word, he nods his head slightly in my direction, and I scramble for any remote form of an answer to his question.

"Well professor, the animagus; it um, they can turn into any creature imaginable, they have the will to do that. It's a conscious choice. A werewolf, they have no option about when to transform. It's a brutal, never ending cycle which repeats on every full moon, and as of now, has no cure."

"Well done, Miss Jones. Ten points to Slytherin..." Professor Snape dives into a less than enthralling lesson of werewolves, but I zone him out from my state of confusion. Here I thought teenagers were the ones with conflicting mood swings. Why did he even choose werewolves to study? That unit is further away than the squid leaving the Black Lake.

All throughout class, Harry and I pass a piece of parchment to one another, creating crude doodles or fairly amusing jokes. Ron tries to get in on the action at one point, which concludes in him being head smacked by Snape. As fate has it, he collects the paper and stares at it so rigidly I begin to think his laser eyes will burn holes into the fragile material.

The dinner chimes sounds throughout the castle, and everyone hurriedly rushes to the door. I shove textbooks into my hands, happily prancing to the exit at quite literally being saved by the bell.

"Miss Jones, a word." Halting, I sigh heavily and slowly turn around despite Harry and Ron's dramatic efforts at getting me to run away.

"Yes, Severus?" I ask timidly.

"I believe we have an appointment for the evening, no?"

"Well, yes. But I was just going to go have dinner before-"