Why have I put up with these insultingly easy classes for so long?
This question echoes through my head as I go through the motions, walking from class to class. I don't even take notes anymore as the professors seem to move through quicksand, searing every piece of information into my brain even before they proceed to repeat everything. I keep my eyes from sinking closed and staying so through some semblance of respect for the professors' subjects. Don't get me wrong, I know they are brilliant people, experts in their respective fields. My frustration truly lies with my so-called "peers". They are the reason our highly knowledgeable professors feel a necessity to dumb everything down so completely that I wonder how they can stand teaching. These are NEWT-level courses after all; they should expect us to keep up with the material. Yet our professors insist on treating us as though we were first-years, brand-new to magic and totally clueless. We have been through war, even the most immature of us forced to grow up in a short amount of time. Our class is greatly diminished, due in part to the number of deaths in that final battle against Voldemort, but also due to many of our classmates taking the honorary diploma offered to over-age 7th years who did not wish to repeat or complete their final year. (Harry and Ron were of this group, choosing to progress straight to their Auror training programs.) Those of us who remained most definitely should not be treated as naive little innocents. Still, our professors continued to do so.
Except Severus Snape. He alone challenged me, pushing the class along at a standard worthy of a NEWT-level course. He did not tolerate sub-standard or bare-minimum work. He is insulting and critical, but only in words. He does not insult intelligence by making things easier. His words may be harsh, but they are never untrue, merely exaggerated. In fact, this year they seem to be lacking his usual venom and I find the new dry sarcasm refreshingly amusing. The rest of my classmates appear to have missed this shift, too absorbed by their habitual fear of him, along with some other changes. He looks as though he has been eating healthier and I can tell that he is almost completely stress free. He is relaxed and - dare I even think it - content. With the harshness of war and the stress of keeping up appearances with Voldemort gone from his entire being, he is even -
No. I cannot think like that. He would never, could never, return such affection. I would be a fool to think otherwise.
And yet...
I am almost done with school. It would no longer be inappropriate. And if I am being perfectly honest with myself, well, it's too late. I am already attracted to him, his striking appearance, sexy voice, and dizzying intellect all pulling me deeper and deeper down this pit into which I have fallen. I have been falling for him all year, but only now have I allowed myself to admit it. Only now that Headmistress McGonagall has offered me a job as the Arithmancy professor, beginning next year. Perhaps I can get to know him in the month before school when all of the professors are at Hogwarts preparing for the start of the school year. Yes, that is precisely what I will do.
There; now I have a plan.
