Isn't He Lovely-Professor Snape

Year 6 Pt 2

The school year unfolded with remarkable excitement, and the highlight came during the Quidditch tryouts. Much to everyone's joy, Ron secured a spot on the team, transforming into our newest keeper. Hermione, our unwavering supporter, joined us in celebrating the accomplishment.

"I can't believe I made the team!" Ron exclaimed, beaming with pride.

"Congrats, Ron! You truly deserve that spot," I cheered, rushing to hug him. "With you as keeper, we're in for a fantastic season."

Ron blushed, his modesty shining through, and soon after, Hermione bounded onto the pitch to envelop us all in a group hug.

As the quidditch season drew near, I reflected on the days of my "house arrest" summer, seizing the chance to prepare for the upcoming Quidditch season. Regular workouts on my mom's muggle treadmill had sculpted me, leaving me feeling invigorated and ready for the challenges ahead.

The quidditch pitch stretched out before me, bathed in the soft glow of the evening sun. The grass, vibrant and well-maintained, seemed to ripple with the echoes of tryouts. The goalposts stood tall at each end, silently witnessing the trials that determined our team.

After talking to Hermione, Ron, and Harry, the camaraderie lingered, their encouraging words still echoing in my mind. As I walked towards the locker room, the brilliance of the golden hour cast a warm glow on the surroundings. The sky above was painted in hues of pink and orange, providing a stunning backdrop to the Quidditch pitch that had become a second home.

Having stripped off my gear, I was clad in a tight long sleeve and leggings, carrying my equipment in hand. The whispers of the magical world enveloped me, a blend of excitement and anticipation lingering in the air. The echoes of laughter and shouts from the tryouts were replaced by the calming rustle of leaves and the distant sounds of students heading back to the castle.

With each step, I felt a sense of accomplishment and readiness for the challenges that awaited. The whispers of the magical world accompanied me to the locker room, where the excitement of making the Quidditch team and the approaching season lingered, setting the stage for the adventures yet to come.

Whispers of my name echoed around me and I looked over to see a group of Slytherin boys, including Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Henry Smith, and Harry Wandell, who attempted to engage me. Henry's taunting remarks escalated, leaving me uneasy and glancing around for an escape.

"Still hanging around with those gits, Niamh?" Henry sneered, drawing closer. "You know we can make an exception for you to come hang out with us, being in Gryffindor and all."

Despite my polite refusal, he remained persistently undeterred. Stepping closer, he closed the distance until I found myself backed against the wall. With one arm positioned above my head, he leaned in, his taunting words ringing in the air. "Come on, Niamh, I don't bite," he sneered, his advances leaving me standing there in stunned disbelief.

A stern voice interrupted the uncomfortable encounter, "I suggest you make your way to your dormitories, Mr. Smith, as well as the rest of you."

I gasped, dropping my equipment as I looked up to see Professor Snape, who had discreetly observed the situation. As he commanded Draco and me to follow him, I shot a glare at Draco, questioning why he hadn't intervened against Henry's harassment. The air was thick with uncertainty as we walked back to the castle, leaving me puzzled about Snape's choice to involve Draco.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼

Once we arrived to Professor Snapes room, he abruptly stopped when we both entered the classroom "Mr. Malfoy, please wait outside. I would like to talk to Miss. Donnelly alone," Professor Snape's voice cut through the air.

As Draco scrutinized me from head to toe, his departure left an unsettling tension in the room. His stature had grown since our last encounter, but a newfound pallor and restlessness clung to him.

I shifted my stance, leaning against a nearby chair, eyes fixed on Professor Snape. "Are you alright, Miss. Donnelly? You seemed uncomfortable when I walked past the pitch," he inquired, his gaze piercing.

"Yes, Professor. I just finished Quidditch tryouts, and some Slytherins were checking in on me, asking about my summer," I replied, attempting to downplay the situation. Yet, a reluctance to implicate others held me back, even if they were Slytherins. After all, nothing substantial had occurred, and I was confident in my ability to stand up for myself.

"That is not what I saw or heard, Miss. Donnelly. Don't. Lie. To. Me," Snape's voice snapped through the air, each word delivered with a cutting precision. As he spoke, he advanced, a deliberate and calculated movement that drew him closer.

Attempting to retreat, I quickly became aware that the room was shrinking around me. The cold, unforgiving surface of the desk pressed against my back, inadvertently guiding me into an unintended seat. Snape's gaze intensified, his eyes locking onto mine with an unwavering focus.

He loomed in front of me, a formidable presence that filled the space. The dim light cast sharp shadows across his stern features, accentuating the gravity of the situation. The weight of his scrutiny made the air heavy, and I felt an overwhelming sense of vulnerability as I involuntarily met his intense gaze. The atmosphere crackled with tension, each moment drawing out the interrogation, leaving me caught in the unforgiving crossfire of his piercing eyes and the hard edge of the desk against my back.

"I-I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to. He was only asking why we didn't hang out this summer," I stammered, my palms clammy, and my breath rapid.

"I see," Snape remarked, stepping back. "It's past curfew. Go to your dormitory. I'll discuss this with Professor McGonagall in the morning. Tell Mr. Malfoy to come in when you leave."

"Okay, thank you, sir. Have a good evening and weekend," I mumbled, feeling frozen, caught in the paradox of his apparent concern and stern demeanor.

As I stood up, my watch confirmed the lateness of the hour. Snape grunted dismissively as I exited the room, finding Draco with his back turned.

Tapping his shoulder, he flinched, wand instantly pointed at me. "Draco, it's just me. I'm sorry for scaring you!" I gasped. His eyes widened in shock, and he swiftly lowered his wand.

Without giving me a chance to explain, Draco walked past me and into Snape's room. I stood there, a lingering fear of the unknown, grateful that the situation hadn't escalated further.