Chapter 11 - Detention? No, devastation.

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The afternoon went by quicker than expected. Hermione had 'roped' him into starting his coursework before Ron had enough and they left Hermione with her books, preferring to play some Exploding Snap. And, having noticed a few curious glances of awkward, lone lower years, Hadrian was quick to invite them over.

Eventually, Hermione also noticed the twins' offer on the notice board and went to berate them. Ron, as a responsible Prefect and role model, had to join in, of course.

Hadrian could not understand Hermione's extreme opposition and, quite frankly, severe stance against Fred and George. Sure, they loved a good laugh, but never at the expense of others' pain or humiliation. And it's not like what they did was dangerous or untested (even if they'd only tested their product on themselves).

From what Hadrian remembered and observed, they told the participants exactly what was in order for them and what could happen — no-one went in there having no idea what would await them.

Though, voicing his thoughts proved to be a mistake, as that only drew Hermione's ire onto his person. And subsequently, he had to justify himself for his atypical behaviour. Apparently he had changed over the summer. Which was a surprise, seeing as he had been tortured, watched a classmate get murdered and was then abandoned by his best friends.

How and why he could have changed would forever remain a mystery.

Another dose of nasty nutrition potion and dinner followed soon after and, before Hadrian knew it, he was walking down the dungeons to Snape's classroom.

The hallways were darker here. There were no windows to let in light, or to let a fresh breeze blow away the smell of old age.

There were alcoves though, with their walls charmed see-through, giving a unique and magnificent view of the Black Lake, of the life within. Comfortable couches and fluffy pillows were placed inside the half-circular space, thereby creating a breath-taking lounge.

Noticeable was also the lack of gossiping portraits in the dungeons, or any paintings. Instead, there were intricate patterns and swirls, lit up by the numerous torches in their opulent holders.

Ultimately, Hadrian came to a stop in front of a door like any other in the castle, even though this one seemed somehow more imposing; darker and more impenetrable. That was not the case, of course, but those were the feelings the whirred within when standing there.

Nevertheless, Hadrian's hand came up and knocked two, three times.

And then there was the reason for feeling this way — small and insignificant, foreboding. The door creaked open on its own, revealing Severs Snape, resident Potions Master and infamous dungeon bat.

He stood tall and dark, even while sitting behind his desk, grading papers. His pale — almost gaunt — face (was he eating? Sleeping?) was framed by his midnight black, lanky hair. His dark eyes seemed to bore into Hadrian's very soul, so intense and emotionless; it was only enhanced by the drawn up brow.

This man shrouded in darkness, sat in this quiet room in the depth of Hogwarts, surrounded by jars filled with eyes and hearts and gore and all kinds of things.

Severus Snape was a truly terrifying specimen. And he knew it very well.

Stepping in, Hadrian went to a desk in the front row, his backpack plopping to the floor while he remained standing.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," he greeted the dour man politely. "What do you want me to do?"

Snape continued to silently look at him for another minute or two, his brow rising to new heights. Finally though, he simply pointed to the store cupboard.

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