She heard the familiar chattering that erupted from the Great Hall as dinner commensed, and her stomach growling as the smell of food lingered as usual. She kept going, knowing the consequences this time.
As well as homework, she was also surprised that she had made it thus far, by not getting caught by teachers or getting into any trouble. She had her moments when she had the urge or the thought to do something out of the ordinary, but she had a deal with Flitwick. Professor Flitwick had her respect and hopefully trust, and she didn't want to break it. However, Sherri knew it was going to be tested tonight at her first detention including the deal.
Of course, Snape knew of it, as teachers talked. Every teacher knew of it by this point and used it against her when they had the chance --most of all, Snape.
Sherri finally made it to the stairs of the dungeons, just hesitating as alawys to make it down before her feet dragged her forward. This time, no disgusting, vomit-inducing scents nor any pile high records of past students . . . and no sign of Snape. Sherri scanned the classroom.
"Hello?" Sherri called out quietly, stepping into the room. The room had a lingering silence that was almost haunting. She hated the feeling of being inside the classroom when she didn't have to, but it was within her own conscience that she had to show up. "Anyone here?"
"Oh, hush up, Miss Black, I'm here," Snape's voice said as his footsteps were heard coming down. Sherri backed up, absent-mindedly, into his desk as he approached the door. His face sneered at the sight of her. Sherri knew he was going to have such fun with this. "Tonight," he started, "you are to clean every inch of this dungeon with this rag."
Snape threw her a rag that looked like it was dipped in black molasses and dried again. ". . . And water from that sink. You have four hours. Go."
Sherri held up the rag and moved over to the sink to wash it down. The blackness to it seemed to go down a bit, but most of it was stuck and stiff.
She started nearest to the sink and worked her way around the room. Sherri began to realize how dusty the room was and how dirty everything was. As usual, she assumed she couldn't use magic, despite the wand in her back pocket.
Snape moved to his desk in his office and took out the essays the fifth years had written about wolfs' bane. Sherri's wasn't too good, she knew, as she wrote it within ten minutes.
Getting down on her hands and knees, she began wiping down old cupboards and inside them, as many of them carried old flasks with frozen green potions in it, and mostly cobwebs that grew around them. Soon enough, the entire room began to get warm, and Sherri could feel sweat trickle down her forehead.
After three hours or so, Sherri stopped. Only half the room was finished and her arms were getting tired. She sat in the corner of the room, wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and sighed. Snape was no where to be seen. She didn't catch him leaving his desk, so he must've set off for the night. . . or had he? He would love to see Sherri working or even yell at her for stopping.
Sherri looked around and sat, uncomfortably. At this moment, she could care less if Snape left. It gave her a little more confidence that she could stop and not get angry remarks or anything of the like. Sherri checked her watch. One more hour to go . . .
Where the heck was Tiki when you need her? She was the one who enjoyed cleaning . . . not Sherri. She gave a quiet sigh and returned to her work after fifteen minutes of sitting.
Snape returned once again with a box of mingling flasks and one cauldron, kicking his door closed, and returned to his office. Sherri looked over at him, and they were at a crossroads of glares, and it was nearly impossible to see which stare showed the most hatred. Snape's lip curled into a small smile as Sherri rolled her eyes and continued.
The night went on with this. Snape did not excuse her, but she left after the four hours were up. He didn't say a word, so she immediately figured she was dismissed.
As she left the, what felt like, heated dungeons, she realized that once she reached the top stair, the castle felt more hot than ever. Her feet dragged back to the Ravenclaw tower and Sherri felt the exhaustion creep up on her.
After fifteen minutes of guessing on the question to get into the common room, Sherri slumped into the nearest chair and was nearly asleep.
Suddenly, a tawny brown owl landed on the arm of the chair, a letter attached to its foot. Sherri opened her eyes just a bit only to see it, and immediately recognizing the handwriting. It was from her father, Sirius Black.
Sherri lazily unattached the letter from the owl as it pecked at her finger for water and food.
"I don't have any this time. Promise double next time around?" Sherri said, remorsefully.
The small owl seemed unpleased with this situation, but decided to set off out the window anyway. Sherri ripped open the envelope at the top slowly and unfolded the letter. It read:
Sherri's distorted vision was then realigned as she read it. Sirius wanted her to go to the cave? But, he would only allow her to do that if something important came up.
What was also strange was that he wanted her to bring a friend, and have her turn into her animangus in the process. But, why wasn't she allowed to be seen? Time would only tell. For now, she would have to see what this friend would think.
