Another Kind Of Magic - A Severus Snape Fanfiction

The Assignment

As expected, the room fell silent instantly as Professor Snape whooshed in and slammed the door shut behind him. Determined, he strode to the front where his desk was located and spun around, strands of long dark hair falling into his face.

Deep black eyes regarded each and every one of the intimidated students with a sinister glare. Twelve dunderheads in their last year. They all met his gaze, not daring to move or look away. All but one.

There, in the farthest corner of the potions classroom, in the last row to his left, sat the worst dunderhead of them all; nose buried deep in the potions book, making it seem as if she was completely immersed with the topic, when Severus only knew too well that she was just pretending, putting on a show for him. He was certain, as soon as he would turn around, she would resume that silly staring game of hers. Even though he didn't need proof, for that was what always had been happening over the last few months, he was in the mood for trying her.

So he whirled around, his robe fluttering with the abrupt movement, and swiftly walked around his desk to sit down behind it.

When Professor Snape glanced up again, he looked right into honey-colored irises.

That was it, he had had enough. It was time to put a stop to this foolishness.

"Ms. Flowers," he drawled threateningly slowly. "Maybe you would like to enlighten us as to why you keep staring at me. Surely, there must be a reason for your tremendous interest in my person."

Eleven heads swung around to face the mortified girl in the back, whose facial expression was frozen in shock.

"Well, Ms. Flowers? We are curiously awaiting your answer."

A few snickers arose from the seats next to her.

"Silence," the potions master's voice boomed through the gloomy dungeon, and everyone followed suit, leaving only the quiet bubbling of potions waft drowsily between the rows of nosy looks.

Hypnotizingly slowly, Severus approached the girl's desk. "Ms. Flowers." He leaned forward, supporting himself with his hands holding on to the edge of the wooden table. He was so close to her now that he could perceive the sweet, yet subtle scent of her shampoo. Or was it perfume? Actually, he could have cared less. So he went on in that infamous snarl of his. "Might I suggest you respond to my question? You must have a very good reason for eying me so intently, and I would like to hear it."

She, however, was so intimidated and obviously overwhelmed by the situation, that she was not able to move a limb, let alone produce one single word. Instead, she just held her professor's irritated gaze and remained silent.

A few seconds ticked by without either of them moving. Hushed voices began to mutter under their breaths, when the potions master finally straightened himself and briskly hurried back to the front of the class, the fabric of his long black robe rustling with every motion.

"Very well." As soon as he uttered those words, deathly stillness fell over the room and a dozen sets of eyes were glued to his tall figure. When he spoke again, it seemed as if he was talking to no one in particular, but he had no doubt the student his words were meant for knew that he was addressing her. "Since you failed to answer me, I expect an essay on why it is considered rude to stare at people. I want it on my desk tomorrow, in addition to the regular homework."

With that, he gracefully took a seat behind his desk and ordered his students to start working on the potion they had prepared during the last lesson.