Restricted

Chapter 8. Another Time

Whoever decided that Professor Severus Snape should be tasked with occasionally leading Study Hall should be sent to Azkaban.

At least, this is what Fred thought after the sodding professor glared their way every bloody five minutes.

The last period of the day was coming to an end. After this, they'd be free for the weekend. Unfortunately, this Friday's Study Hall was being watched by the worst wizard humanly possible. At least it would be over soon if the clock on the wall was up to the proper time.

Him, Lee, and George resorted to passing back a sheet of parchment to communicate. Fred scribbled his latest correspondence and slid the folded parchment across the table to Lee.

Do you reckon he's always got a stick up his arse or just during school hours?

Lee hastily wrote his own response while concealing a laugh.

Dunno, but he certainly keeps it there just for you :)

His brother leaned over Lee's shoulder to look at the note, and nearly choked through a poorly hidden laugh.

"It could be from Potions this week," George whispered from across the table. "You know, the stick."

Fred looked over his shoulder to see if the slimy professor was still watching them. He was.

Fred shrugged his shoulders and pressed his lips in a tight line.

Perhaps the bitter old man was still angry with his—incident—in Potions earlier this week. Not only was Fred late to class, but he might've accidentally been experimenting during lesson instead of brewing the Wound-Cleansing Potion like they were supposed to.

George was tasked with scouring anything he could find in Charms, whilst Fred went looking in Potions.

It wasn't his fault they still hadn't found an answer to their latest idea. He searched all weekend for anything on magical body temperature regulation, but found no luck.

It couldn't be that hard to find a combination that would imitate someone having a fever for a little while.

If they could get this little problem out of the way, their snackboxes to help people skive off class every once in a while could be a massive success.

Still, even despite the experimenting, he came up with nothing. And Professor-Stick was not impressed with his curiosity but plainly furious.

He swore that he'd seen Snape's face turn nearly purple when Fred refused to tell him what he'd been attempting, insisting it was just an accident and he grabbed the wrong ingredients by mistake.

It wasn't enough to prove his innocence. He'd been given a week's detention and gotten twenty points taken from Gryffindor.

The only benefit to disposing of leftover potions and scrubbing the classroom's tables clean was analysing from the plethora of shelves of labelled ingredients for himself. Not only would it be useful later if he had a death wish by sneaking some extra vials here and there, but Fred discovered Professor Snape had handwriting like a girl.

Most of the labels had neat and admittedly pretty cursive. Professor Snape had pretty girl penmanship. That was something he could laugh about while cleaning the musty dungeon classroom by hand.

From a distance, they heard what could only be the sweet relief of the bell tower, indicating their Study Hall with Professor-Pretty-Penmanship was finally over.

The three Gryffindors sighed in relief. It was muffled by the other sixth years beginning to chat amongst themselves. As they packed their bags and left the extension of the library, Fred shot a final look at the professor who was glaring right back at him. Fred smiled and waved.