Hogwartian Halloween
Chapter 1: And it ain't even Breakfast.
Halloween is a magnificent holiday,
celebrated in a variety of ways. Some, like the Malfoy's, look upon
it with disdain for muggles and all their bizarre rituals (such as
trick or treating) and profound bitterness at the anniversary of the
Dark Lords downfall, in equal measure.
Others, such as the
Weasleys, rejoice in the festivities and take great pride in their
decorations and enthusiasm for the day.
Young children return
home with their pockets bulging with assortments of sweets; chocolate
frogs, Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans and sugar mice, whilst the
parents take (seemingly sadistic) satisfaction in confiscating said
candy and 'throwing it in the fire to prevent the destruction of
their children's teeth' (read: scoff the whole lot themselves.)
Students at Hogwarts revel in pulling pranks, dressing up, and of
course, the tremendous feast that they became accustomed to after
their first year at Hogwarts.
The teachers? Well they just pray
to all-merciful God for the day to end as swiftly as it came upon
them...
-x-
Friday 31st October
Gryffindor's head-of-house bedroom quarters.
6:05 am
It was with a heavy heart that
Minerva rolled out of bed, if it hadn't been for the unwavering
loyalty and devotion she held for her students, her job and the
treacle tart they would undoubtedly serve with dinner, then she might
have deigned to stay in bed. All day. She sighed. It was a
rather enjoyable notion, but Minerva was not unaccustomed to having
her hopes shattered into a million pieces (much like the magical
stained-glass window on the third floor which had become a victim to
the 5th Year Gryffindors violent Ultimate Fanged Frisbee
tournament last night.)
She had hoped that the Weasley
twins wouldn't be put in her house.
She had hoped
Sybill Trelawney would be sacked about two minutes after arriving.
She had hoped that since they had both now had thirty years in
which to mature and mellow out into stable and responsible adults,
Sinistra and Snape would have stopped throwing insults (and plates)
at each other and maybe allow the rest of the staff a vacation from
their incessant bickering for one relaxing afternoon.
Dear sweet
Merlin, when she had gone to bed last night Minerva had hoped
that by some divine miracle the 31st would just be skipped
and she'd wake up on the morning of November 1st.
Delusional? Ridiculous? Unbefitting of the 21-and-a-bit-year old
(not that she'd ever tell you her real age. Nor should the polite
person ask) strict, stern, Transfiguration professor? Perhaps, but
the wish was still there.
Wincing as her aching feet- sore due to the insane amounts of walking they had already suffered, only two months into the school year-hit the cruelly hard stone floor, Minerva prepared herself for another long day at work, both in the physical sense of pulling on her customary emerald green cloak, and mentally by reassuring herself that it would soon be the weekend.
She entered the staff room at 6:40am
and fell in a heap on the closest armchair, sighing.
"Thank-you
so much" she murmured gratefully, as she lifted the cup of hot,
sugary tea to her lips, nodding to Remus Lupin.
-x-
Staff Room
6:46 am
Remus smiled politely at Minerva's
thanks and sat back in his chair, stifling a yawn. Just as Minerva
set her cup down, he lifted his mug up off the table and took a great
gulp of the steaming liquid. It burned the back of his throat, but he
found it hard to care. Caffeine was caffeine after all.
He took
his coffee with no sugar, but a lot of milk. It sparked many debates
with McGonagall who could not begin to fathom why anybody would
torture their innocent taste-buds with a sugarless drink.
It
usually resulted in a rare moment of unison between Professor Severus
Snape and himself. Their mutual dislike for one another just barely
fell short of their mutual loathing for sugary coffee.
Remus frowned, glancing around the
staff room. It struck him as odd that Severus, who was usually the
first one up in the castle (no doubt because he was a nocturnal
servant of the underworld who slept during the day and relied on the
blood of first years for sustenance), wasn't in the staff room,
glowering at him in a sinister manner or making snide remarks about
his (lack of) teaching ability.
Remus wasn't overly dismayed by
this fact, especially as if the mind-reading bat had been present
Remus would have been beyond dead for that last thought. But, curious
as ever, he did being to wonder if the ruckus coming from the
dungeons last night had anything to do with the MIA potions
professor.
At 7 o'clock, Remus Lupin had finished his coffee, looked through his teaching plans for the day, and was beginning to express concerns about Severus's failure to show up. Other teachers had commented on how unusual it was for such a punctual, early-riser such as Snape to not have made an appearance by 7am. Or as Professor Vivian Vector acclaimed, somewhat refreshingly, "bloody moron. Maybe he slipped on all the grease produced in his hair and knocked himself out." it was said in clipped tones with the barest hint of a French accent showing her education and upbringing in Beauxbatons, France. But nearly 10 years of being friends with Auriga Sinistra had caused a slight change in her personality, at least where Snape was concerned, and she said swiftly after "Honestly, if that greasy haired git doesn't watch out, he'll be late for breakfast...I hope he doesn't think I'll save him a scone. I won't, you know. I'll eat every last one just to spite him. Then he'll die of malnutrition. Suicidal Slimeball."
Biting back a comment about Snape surviving on first years and deciding he'd rather have a croissant for breakfast, Remus began pondering the inevitable question of strawberry jam or chocolate spread (a ridiculous question, I know, and rest assured within moments he berated himself for being so foolish as to consider something not chocolate based) and subsequently forgot all about the "beloved" potions master.
-x-
Hospital Wing
7:15am
"Honestly Poppy, I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself!" Severus angrily exclaimed. His indignation only increased when Madame Pomfrey, rather than apologise bashfully, only glared pointedly at the ghastly gash across his cheek, and pushed him back down on the bed. It wasn't that he was weak or anything. She was unnaturally strong for a woman of her stature, and it had taken him by surprise. That's all.
"Look, I know you're the matron
here" Severus huffed -in a mature, head-of-Slytherin kind of way.
"And consequently have some authority here, but I am
a professor..."
He was cut short by an uninterested 'mm-hmmm'
from the nurse, promptly followed by a spoonful ofunpalatable
medicine being shoved in his mouth, abruptly causing him to gag.
(Again, in a mature, dignified-teacher, head of Slytherin way)
Severus spluttered for a good few minutes. Whether it was due to the medicine or the contemptuous manner he was being treated with no-one could say. Not that at 7ish in the morning in a hospital wing there were all that many conscious people who cared enough to speak anyway.
"Poppy" Severus tried for the third time "for MERLIN'S sake, you impertinent woman, I am a teacher! I have things to do, classes to teach, homework to grade" 'Cruel and potentially harmful punishments to hand out for the ignorant little brats who landed me in this bed' he added silently, glaring daggers (not literally, but close) at the dozen or so Slytherin students of differing ages, all laying next to each other, with bruises, black-eyes and most commonly of all; tentacles.
It had taken two hours of discussion (and by discussion he meant death threats delivered from him to the sobbing pupils) but Severus had managed to come to the understanding that each person had got into a violent fight with the rest of the group for no discernable reason, and each person was furious with the others, again without any apparent cause. Such is a Slytherin, he supposed. Severus had tried to explain that perhaps them all laying mere metres away from each other, and within arms reach of their wands was not the best place for them all to be, but Poppy was having none of it.
It was days like this that made
Severus yearn for his days as a death eater. Yes, you were always
highly liable of dying at any given moment, but at least you wouldn't
have to put up with blithering idiots such as the students in the
beds. It was unfathomable why any disagreement between teenagers must
always dissolve into physical violence, and in the middle of a common
room. If you're going to attack, don't make it so you get
caught!
Not that he was condoning sneaking, hiding in the shadows
or behind statues, at night, waiting for your victim. But they were
Slytherins for crying out loud. What possible characteristic
could the hat have picked up on when it sorted them into the house?
How had they not been sent to the Slytherin table with a note on
their back saying 'ha ha, got you!'?
Severus sighed and
dragged his hand down his face. Standards really had fallen since his
day.
"Here" snapped Madame Pomfrey,
thrusting a vile of bubbling purple potion into his hands, "make
sure you drink this before lunch. Go."
Severus raised his
eyebrows.
Poppy tutted, looking truly exasperated.
"You
wanted to leave, then leave!!!"
Severus, completely baffled and
bewildered, made a sharp exit from the hospital wing.
Upon exiting the room, indeed on the
very same turn left, he collided with one of his own students dancing
on the spot outside the door, looking very confused.
"Miss..."
the name escaped him briefly. He recognised her though; she was in
Draco Malfoy's year, and from what he could establish, hated Malfoy
with a passion he reserved for the likes of Potter. This was somewhat
gratifying for Severus to witness, since he himself could be nothing
but polite to the stuck-up little Aryan prince with the influential
and equally stuck-up father. There again, from what Severus could
gather, there were very few people in Slytherin who she actually
considered friends anyway, as she couldn't tolerate any of Malfoy's
groupies. Wow. Severus really did admire this girl. If only he could
remember what the devil her name was.
"Greengrass, sir" Her face was polite enough, but the tone in which she had filled the too-long-a-pause was very affronted. Severus knew it was justifiable; he should really know his more favoured students names, she was in his house and had been for three years. Plus, she had a talent for Potions unrivalled by the majority of the year, so she should have felt snubbed that he didn't remember her name. Indeed, he probably would have thought less of her if she hadn't. But after a morning like he'd had, and the knowledge of what an atrocious day he was about to face, her annoyed tone only irked him into responding with malevolent conduct.
"Yes, of course I know its Greengrass, silly girl. Do you truly believe I am ignorant enough to forget the name of a student put into my care? You thought my hesitation was a pause of forgetfulness? You thought wrong, Miss Greengrass. I was merely wondering who placed the unfortunate curse upon you in which you are without control over you limbs and are forced to prance about in such an ungainly manner." He completed his tirade with a sneer, and subsequently knew that it would force Miss Greengrass to re-order her mental list of favourite teachers and place his name far, far, far further down. Probably to the very bottom, although he liked to think he'd still be higher than the oaf Hagrid and the mad old bat Trelawney.
Daphne's cheeks were tinged pink with indignation and her jaw was clenched unflatteringly, but she had stopped dithering from foot to foot and stood with squared shoulders and eyes that bore hatefully into his own.
"I am sorry, Professor Snape, for leading you to the wrong conclusion that somebody had hexed me. As you probably surmised from the fact that out of nearly all the students in the common room I was one of few who remained unscathed, I will not suffer any injuries or curses upon my person" her eyes flickered to the gash along Snape's face "by the way. I think it was commendable how you stepped in to resolve the fight only 10 minutes after appearing in the common room where of course the brawl was taking place. Plus, you only received minimal wounds from a bunch of kids. Truly, it in unfathomable why you have not yet been appointed DADA teacher, sir."
Snape felt slighted. Not only had she delivered a better rant and finished it with a signature eyebrow raise and tilt of head in goodbye, but she had left before he could respond. He didn't even get a word in. How frightfully humiliating. Fortunately there was nobody around to have witnessed it.
...
Somebody was chuckling behind him.
...
He would kill them.
"Good-morning Severus" chirped the far too chipper voice of a certain sapphire eyed, auburn haired Astronomy teacher. "Fancy some breakfast? I have a fanciful story to recount. You won't believe it. Far too whimsical. If I wasn't safe in the knowledge that it's only 7.30 in the morning, I'd think this was all an alcohol-induced hallucination."
"My, my Auriga. My estimation of you has gone up considerably. I presumed a drunkard tart such as yourself would have been completely trolleyed by this point" Severus mocked "or have you forgotten last year's Halloween?"
Auriga's cheeks burned with
mortification.
"The kids spiked my drink!" she yelled "it
wasn't intentional! And if you think i'm going to let this story
drop, the one time when Mr. Slimeball of Sarcasmia himself got shown
up by a school girl, you are even wronger than usual."
Her eyes
glinting insanely, Auriga turned on her heel and marched off
purposefully.
"THE CORRECT GRAMMAR IS 'MORE WRONG'" cried Severus a few moments later, pitifully.
Oh God.
-x-
Its awful, I know. Sorry. I will try and write better next time. And it will actually be a proper chapter with a reasonable length to it, as opposed to this short drivel of nothingness. I am really apologetic. This is horrendous. I wouldn't even post it if I hadn't not updated or posted anything since about August. Please, feel free to shoot me down with flame-throwers.
