Incensed

This letter is one of two where I was forced to choose someone for their first name rather than their last. Turns out there aren't any characters whose last names start with I or X, at least that we know of. Luckily, Irma Pince took up the mantle for me. This scene, to be totally frank, was ridiculously fun to write. Honestly, it was so much fun, and is definitely at the top of my favorites, plus writing as Snape has become one of my favorite things ever. There's a general feeling that, of all of the Hogwarts staff, Snape got along with Pince fairly well – their personalities were pretty similar, they usually sat near each other in the film adaptations, and there's even speculation that the two are related (check it out on the HP wiki, under her name, in the Behind the Scenes section). I decided to play up this supposed 'friendship' in this story. Irma's adoration of books was enjoyable to toy with… *maniacal grin*

"Severus Snape!"

The man in question turned about sharply at the cry of his name, eyes narrowing at the interruption. They fell on the tall, imposing figure of Madam Pince, the only individual ever granted the luxury of screaming loudly at someone within the library's hallowed halls. Readjusting the stack of books he balanced in his arms, he took his time in strolling to her desk, enjoying the irritated scowl of one of the few people at Hogwarts he got on well with.

"Madam," he finally stated as he reached her meticulously clean desk. He placed his collection atop the counter, making a point of organizing them precisely before turning his characteristic smirk on the scowling woman. Ignoring his impertinence, she lifted her arm, long finger outstretched into the distance, and pointed behind him. He raised a single eyebrow and glanced in the indicated direction, though nothing out of the ordinary caught his attention. Wondering, not for the first time, if she had sniffed one too many ancient piles of ink splayed parchment, he turned back to her inquiringly. "I'm afraid you'll need to elaborate, Irma."
"I do not care if he is the bloody Chosen One," she hissed, extended finger shaking at her annoyance. "What that child has done to his textbook is beyond forgivable."

Potter. He should have expected as much. Severus sighed deeply before once more searching the vast, eerily quiet space for the outrageously coiffed savior. The librarian, meanwhile, finally lowered her arm, limbs literally quaking in her undeniable fury. It did not matter to her that the book was his personal property; no one, not even the Boy Who Lived, should be allowed to destroy a book in such a way. She was certain the torn, jagged, note covered pages would haunt her the rest of her days.

"So where is the delinquent?" Severus inquired once his observation of the library proved fruitless. Irma sniffed once, thinking to herself how mild the term 'delinquent' was in describing the crime and its perpetrator.

"Escaped, most likely," she growled in reply, scaring off an approaching Hufflepuff who seemed to simply wish to check out his selections. "I would not allow him and his little cronies to remain once I saw how he treated his Potions text."

"Is that why I have suddenly found myself involved?" he asked mildly. "Might I remind you that you ought to be looking for Horace, seeing as he is the current Potions professor?"

"Man's an incompetent fool," she replied, her clipped sentences revealing just how angry she truly was. "Besides, it looked nearly ancient – probably one of the spare sets. Which means, Severus, it's more likely one of yours."

He instantly tensed, though Irma hardly noticed. Severus was one of a very infinitesimal list of witches and wizards who shared her appreciation for books and understanding that they ought to be treated with respect. This mutual commitment against the foul mistreatment of one of humankind's greatest gifts led to a friendship she reluctantly enjoyed. She knew she could trust Severus in her library, and that he would keep as strong a watch for rule breakers in her sanctuary as she herself. She continued to silently seethe while the Potions master tapped his index finger on the desk, deep in thought.

"Which Potions text was it, Irma?" he abruptly demanded. She paused long enough in her endless internal tirade against all those who did not see books in the proper light to consider.

"Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage," she eventually rattled off. "The typical NEWT required Potions text. Really, Severus, if it is a borrowed one, I would have expected you of all people to properly care for it and punish any children who befouled it."

His face turned even stonier at her declaration. "Harry Potter, when I discover your whereabouts, you shall beg me to merely hand you over to the Dark Lord," he muttered, hands curling into fists. Irma remained unphased by the threat, pleased simply that he appeared to finally demonstrate the appropriate amount of aggravation the situation warranted.

"You think it really was him who ruined it?" she questioned. She genuinely hoped not; a vendetta against the wizarding world's only chance at destroying Lord Voldemort probably wasn't the best of plans, but if he was the one at fault, she'd never allow him entrance to the library again. Just let him try and do the same to another borrowed book.

"It is not ruined, Madam," the man replied curtly. "And no, it was not Potter. The boy's gotten his ungrateful little hands on my own copy."

"WHAT?!" Her shriek resounded across the room's vaulted walls and ceilings, causing everyone to turn and gape openly. Irma ignored them, unwilling to accept what she'd just heard. "SEVERUS SNAPE, YOU DID NOT TREAT A BOOK SO HARSHLY."

"Calm yourself, woman," he admonished, far too casually for Irma's taste. Clearly he did not see the severity of what he'd done. "I was seventeen and, as I said, improving it – "

"IT WAS RUINED, SEVERUS. DESTROYED. WRITTEN IN, PAGES SPOTTED, BINDING BREAKING. HOW COULD THAT EVER BE CONSIDERED AN IMPROVEMENT?!"

"I swear to Salazar, if you do not lower your voice and calm down immediately, I shall force you to do so." She did as he demanded, but more from stunned disbelief than his threat. Her mind refused to comprehend his claims – of all people, out of the many who crossed the ancient castle's threshold, he was the last she ever expected to willingly admit to harming a book, even if it was supposedly in the act of enhancement. He took a deep breath, his eyes warning her not to interrupt. "While taking the NEWT level class, I discovered various ways of altering the potions listed in the required text in a way that was both far more logical and better for the potions as a whole. To save myself time and trouble in the future, I noted the additions and substitutions directly in my personal edition. It was the most sound and intelligent option. I wonder if Potter's attempted any of the spells I created and wrote in the pages as well – "

"SPELLS?!" she could not help but scream. "ENOUGH. GET OUT IMMEDIATELY."

Severus sighed, rubbing his temples softly. "As usual, Irma, you are acting far too melodramatic for the situation – "

"GET. OUT."

"Very well, but I'm taking these with me." He picked up his stack once more, enjoying the openly gaping mixture of fear and unadultered rage on the librarian's face. "I'll come find you when you're a bit less…frenzied." With that, he vacated the library, leaving the woman alone to take her frustration out on unsuspecting students once more.