Snape Wants to Give You Detention?

Ron and Harry desperately wanted to see how Eliana would twist that lightbulb guy's head off, so they watched her like hawks over the next few days. But nothing happened.

They soon gave up.

"Merlin, I had no idea anyone could have that much energy."

Ron lay sprawled across the dining table, his eyes vacant. For the first time, even the delicious smell of toast, fried eggs, and bacon failed to interest him. "She has more energy than Percy, Fred, and George put together."

Harry propped his face in his hands and sat perfectly still, looking as though he were worshipping the Pumpkin Juice in front of him.

"Hey, I think I heard—"

"Our names!"

The red-haired twins came over grinning and threw their arms around their little brother. Then they saw the enormous dark circles under both boys' eyes, nearly reaching their chins.

"Good heavens, little Ronnie. Have you been sneaking around at night?"

"Looks like we underestimated you. Roaming the halls in your first year! George, we've got a worthy successor!" Fred said cheerfully.

Percy, at the far end of the table, was already looking their way.

"Shut up, and don't call me that!" Ron shoved his brother away. "I wasn't roaming the halls! I was studying!"

He stuck out his chin.

"Oh! Studying! What a terrifying word! So you're Percy's successor," Fred cried.

"I'm heartbroken—truly heartbroken. Little Ronnie likes Percy best!" George clutched his chest.

Ron's face turned as red as his hair.

"Ooh, let's get out of here! The good little student's angry!"

"He's going to breathe all that study stink on us!"

The twins laughed and walked off with their arms around each other's shoulders.

Ron turned to Harry through gritted teeth. "See, if you had two brothers like that—hey, mate, are you all right?"

He tried to poke the motionless Harry upright, suddenly alarmed.

"I think I might be a little dead," Harry said with his eyes closed.

Ron promptly forgot his wretched brothers. Returning to their original subject, he grumbled, "She's like a Bludger that never stops!"

Eliana had already finished eating, packed up her things, and left the table full of energy.

"Did you see that? Did you? She's off again! Look how fast she's walking!" Ron shook Harry in horror. "Are we still following her?"

"She gets up at five thirty every morning, runs a lap around the Black Lake, then practices spells on the lawn for an hour—"

He counted on his fingers.

"Then she goes back to the dormitory to change, comes down for breakfast, finishes in ten minutes, and reads in the library until eight fifteen—" Harry continued weakly.

The library wasn't open that early, of course, but Eliana had learned Alohomora from Hermione—and had somehow learned the Locking Charm too. Madam Pince hadn't even arrived by the time Eliana left.

"Then she gets to class forty-five minutes early to preview and review the material. I sat near her once and saw her summarizing the key points of every chapter, researching the people and books mentioned, even looking up last year's exam questions. Where does she find all that stuff?"

Ron couldn't figure it out, so he gave up trying and went on lamenting, "And that's just the morning!"

"I can't do it. I really can't." Harry slumped onto the table. "I can't keep following her."

Ron nodded vigorously. "I don't think watching her twist Malfoy's head off would be worth it anyway."

"If we keep this up, we'll drop dead before she gets to Malfoy," Harry said seriously. "I'm going back to sleep after breakfast. Thank goodness we have Herbology this morning, not Potions, or I'd definitely blow up my cauldron."

"And then Snape would twist your head off first." Ron cackled. "You and Malfoy's ghost could start a headless club."

"Oh, shut up," Harry said irritably. "I really am going back to sleep."

"Me too." Ron hurried after him.

They would regret that decision.

Severus Snape got out of bed with a grim face. He didn't look remotely pleased to greet the new day.

What was there to be pleased about?

It was time for the weekly staff meeting again. After that, he would have to rush off to teach a pack of troll brats who couldn't seem to understand a word he said. He had classes all morning and afternoon, and that evening he had to brew Potions for the Hospital Wing. The Hospital Wing never had enough!

The little trolls had no brains—they found all sorts of bizarre ways to injure or disfigure themselves. Their bodies were sturdy enough, though, when it came to injuring one another.

The irritating old bee droned on at the front. Snape listened for a moment—something about caring for students, something about patience and tolerance—then stopped listening.

He stared blankly as a speck of dust drifted through a shaft of light to the floor. Then he watched another.

By the time he had watched the ninth speck land, Dumbledore had finally stopped talking. The tiresome meeting was nearly over.

The last few minutes were for the professors to chat about anything from the weather and the food in the dining hall to the absurd things students did in class and how each new year seemed worse than the last.

As Snape gathered his things, he reluctantly kept half an ear on the conversation. They had moved on to students who gave them some hope, and one name came up repeatedly: Eliana Rich.

He remembered her.

Imagine teaching a roomful of little brats that one plus two equaled three. As you explained it, they stared blankly, scratching their heads and picking their noses. Then you asked what two plus one equaled, and they confidently wrote down four!

Then along came a student who followed your every move in class like a sunflower turning toward the sun, looking at you with such admiration that you might have been the greatest teacher alive. When you taught her that one plus two equaled three, she worked out that one plus three equaled four and two plus three equaled five. She even studied ahead and learned that two times three equaled six. You might not like her, but at least you wouldn't think badly of her.

And though she worked hard in every class, yours was her favorite. She liked it so much that she came to listen again when you taught another class.

Snape glanced at Flitwick, who was praising Eliana excitedly, then slowly turned away.

Her only flaw was that she was a Gryffindor.

Had the Sorting Hat gone senile? She could at least have been a Ravenclaw.

Dumbledore listened to the discussion with apparent interest. "It sounds as though you all think highly of this child."

Professor Flitwick's voice rose with excitement. "I've never seen a child with such a gift for Charms. In my very first class, she demonstrated the Explosion Charm!"

"It wasn't entirely precise, of course—but that's advanced material, nowhere in a first-year textbook. And she's a young witch from the Muggle World, which means she worked it out herself. Merlin, how long has she even had a wand?"

For some reason, Snape thought Dumbledore's old face looked a little worried.

That old bee did love putting on a show.

Even after he sat down behind his desk in the dungeon, Snape continued his customary grumbling about Dumbledore.

He had gotten exactly what he wanted, yet still acted troubled.

Suddenly, his door flew open with a bang. Something glittering silver rushed in, wailing, "Godfather, Godfather! Waaaah, my hair! My hair!"

Snape lowered his wand, its tip still glowing, and said darkly, "Draco, perhaps I should speak to your father about your manners. Do you realize you look like a..."

He stared at the hedgehog glittering even in the dim dungeon and, for once, was at a loss for words.

Malfoy's treasured pale hair, which he coated with generous amounts of gel and slicked back every day, had finally changed style—changed form, even. It now stood straight up in individual silver spikes.

Snape pressed his lips together. "Draco, I believe I've told you that a boy needn't spend so much time on his appearance. What hair-styling charm have you tried and botched this time?"

Malfoy looked ready to burst into tears. "I didn't! Eliana did this!"

Snape, who had just been regretting that the bright, well-behaved Eliana was a Gryffindor: What?

By Herbology, Malfoy's pale hair had finally gone soft again. He hadn't even put on any gel—now the slightest stiffness in his hair made him flinch. He marched toward the Gryffindors, seething.

Two or three steps from Eliana, he stopped abruptly. Then he spotted Professor Sprout at the greenhouse entrance and immediately puffed out his chest again.

He declared viciously, "Damn you, Ritchie! Just you wait! Professor Snape wants you in detention with him tonight! Just you wait!"

"—What are you laughing at?!"