No Difference

Teeth

"I see no difference." (GoF 263)

Hours after the Slytherin and Gryffindor fourth year Potions class, those words were still replaying in Severus Snape's mind as he tried to focus on marking idiotically written essays. Along with the glistening tears that had unexpectedly welled up in the insufferable girl's eyes and her whimpers as she fled, it was those words that had haunted him throughout the rest of the day like the Bloody Baron chasing after Peeves. He exhaled harshly and threw his quill down on the desk. An hour of grading and he had only gotten through two essays. He knew there would be no point in continuing with them tonight. He wouldn't have a drop of patience for whatever drivel the dunderheads had come up with. Neither did he have the focus to read anything. There was too much on his mind.

Between morons blowing up cauldrons in his classroom, the usual House rivalries, Moody's suffocatingly invasive scrutiny, Karkaroff's irritating attempts to reconnect, the Mark on his left arm getting darker by the day, and Potter being the underaged, fourth champion in the Triwizard Tournament, there was plenty to worry about and keep an eye on. He hadn't even slept last night, busy as he was with Dumbledore's order to examine the Goblet for traces of Dark magic. And yet, it was the know-it-all's reaction to his words that bothered him the most. Enough that he hadn't even taken points or assigned detention to her for skipping class. He thought she would have been above caring about other people's opinions on her appearance. Least of all, his opinion. Salazar knows no one else outside of Slytherin cared about anything he said. But of course, she would be the only one apart from his snakes to take his words to heart, inside and outside of the classroom. The little chit. Their best chance at guiding Potter's survival in the tasks was reduced to tears by a few words. How disappointing.

Then again, those same words had reduced him to pacing his office, unable to focus on anything else. Perhaps those words weren't as simple as they appeared on the surface then. In the privacy of his own mind, he could admit that he had taken out his stress and anger on the first convenient target. The girl hadn't even been involved in the altercation. It hadn't been fair to her.

But life wasn't fair.

Snape growled at himself. For Salazar's sake! She was just another arrogant, self-centred, ungrateful brat! He had never had a problem with belittling his students - or her - before. Right after the girl had fled, he had taken pleasure in deducting points from Potter and Weasley, threatening them with a week's worth of detentions on top of the one he had already assigned if they didn't get inside the classroom. That proved he hadn't completely lost control of his mental faculties. So why was this still bothering him?! What was it about her that unsettled him this time?!

Snarling, he pivoted on his heel and stalked out of his office, robes billowing. He sneered at the students who had jumped at the dungeon door banging open. Maybe patrolling the corridors and handing out detentions would screw his head on straight, he thought as students hastened to get out of the way of his black mood. Disappointingly, there were very few punishments to be given out this evening. Two hours into his patrol and only Longbottom had been foolish enough to remain in his path, preoccupied as the boy was in keeping that blasted toad from escaping. His own emotions being broadcasted to anyone in his vicinity had worked against him. He was in an even fouler mood than when he had started patrols. How frustratingly ironic.

As he neared the library, the bushy-haired subject of his inner turmoil caught his attention. She had an armful of tomes, smiling brightly at a first year Hufflepuff student as she recommended books to help with an essay on the Sleeping Draught and gave instructions on how to navigate the library. Predictable swot. However, that was not what had his eyes narrowed at her.

As soon as the first year scurried off, he strode towards her, drawling, "Cutting it close to curfew tonight, aren't we, Miss Granger?"

She whirled around, eyes wide for a second before she set her jaw and squared her shoulders to face him. "There's still fifteen minutes left. I was just on my way back to Gryffindor Tower, Professor."

Raising an eyebrow at her almost defiant tone, Snape said snidely, "You may be a know-it-all, but all that time in the library will hardly make your grades any better. Neither will skipping class for such trivial matters as vanity."

"Hardly vanity, Professor," she replied stiffly, with hands clenched tightly around the books in her arms. "My teeth had grown past my neck by the time I reached the hospital wing, with no sign of stopping. I believe that counts as a medical emergency."

"Five points from Gryffindor for talking back. Unless you are taking after Lockhart's sensibilities, making your teeth suddenly fit for the cover of Witch Weekly is not a medical emergency," he said silkily. Realizing too late from her widened eyes that he had unintentionally given her a backhanded compliment and revealed his attention to her in the process, he cursed inwardly at himself but continued sneering, "Perhaps there is a difference after all. If you were half as clever as everyone seems to think you are, you would have cast a Shield Charm and no one would have needed the hospital wing, Miss Granger."

A myriad of emotions flitted across her face, too fast to identify, before she settled on curiosity. Snape just managed to suppress the urge to draw his wand under her intense stare as she said formally, "I will take that under advisement. May I go back to Gryffindor Tower now, Professor Snape?"

He returned her stare with narrowed eyes, lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to determine what godforsaken, incorrect conclusion the chit had come to about this whole exchange. Unable to get a read on her without using Legilimency to delve into her mind, he nodded curtly after a minute of the two of them standing as still as the gargoyles around the castle.

"Goodnight, Professor," she murmured, with a faint smile and her head bowed, before hurrying back to her House's common room.

Snape stared after her, baffled, though one would not know it by his expressionless face. Much to his confusion, their encounter had eased his mind enough to settle down for a night of marking papers. At the same time, he was more annoyed than ever at himself. He had failed, again, to give her detention. He had failed to address the antidote recipe that she had missed brewing and testing. He had failed to predict her reactions. Had even failed to make sense of them. But most of all, he had failed to decipher why he was behaving the way he was in this matter.

At least there were no tears this time, Snape thought sourly as he made his way back to the dungeons. And if she took anything away from their exchange, he hoped that it was to learn the Shield Charm. That was the one useful part out of all the impulsive, irrational things he'd said to her today that she could use to help Potter survive. Everything else, he'd really rather she forget.