Harry Potter had begun to learn something this year - something that he was rather sharply aware Hermione (and, perhaps, Snape and Malfoy, if you wanted to give them more credit than they deserved) had been trying to teach him for years.
Don't Act Angry.
When Harry was angry, he tended to lose his head, scream - shout, say things he didn't mean.
It was even easier to apply the rule when it came to Ron Weasley - his face got bright red, and he sulked, and he hollered, and every bit of the worst of him came out.
What Hermione had failed to realize, though, is that she was also prone to anger. And Harry had felt her anger at the Gryffindor table, it had been a physical force. Hermione tended to get accusatory when she was angry - she really did generally believe that she was right, but when she got angry, her heels dug down into the mud until they hit bedrock.
It was a bad idea to put an angry Hermione into a room with Professor Severus Snape.
Harry didn't, couldn't think of Snape actually being violent... but he didn't need to be, did he now? His tongue was enough of a weapon, often worse than Dudley's fists. It wasn't just the bile and venom, either - Snape knew how to be accurate, in a way that his young Slytherins either never cared to... or didn't feel was terribly necessary, when dealing with "Foolish Gryffindors."
Harry, himself, felt tight - the need for answers clawing inside him. And yet, he felt certain that he could approach Snape, and not trigger an explosion out of sheer stupidity.
Harry Potter braced himself on the Potion Master's door, taking a deep breath. He needed the calm, needed to embrace the calm before the storm, feel the electricity crackling and yet know that it was yet to come.
Apparently, Harry hadn't been quiet enough.
The door swung open, leaving Harry, eyes closed, half stumbling half falling forward into Snape's office. "Ah, Mister Potter. Here for your detention? Regretfully, you shan't be spending it on the floor. Stand, close the door, and we will begin."
With rather a lot more grace than he'd shown in the last fifteen seconds, Harry Potter scrambled fluidly to his feet (resembling a waterfall leaping uphill) and shut the door in a motion just barely less than a slam.
He turned towards Snape, who was looking smug (no doubt at having made Potter look so klutzy). "Well, Potter? Out with it." Snape snapped. his keen eyes clearly having seen that Harry had a question.
"Why didn't you tell me - us - that we were learning Wild Magic?" Harry Potter asked, flashing behind his glasses were the images of distrustful people staring at him, clutching their wands.
[a/n: Second piece of the day. Were you expecting this? Hermione gets upset when people are teaching improperly.
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