Snape got it!
Day 1
Lasciate ogne speranza voi ch'intrate
(All hope abandon ye who enter in!) The Divine Comedy, Inferno, III.9
…When Dumbledore stated – in his usual, "soft & casual" manner - that all six years that took DADA for this year had to come to a special meeting, nobody was surprised. After all, the DADA by now was reputed to be somewhat of a… cursed job, and nobody wanted to get cursed, no matter how remote or improbable the possibility was. They were, after all, wizards, and nobody knew better magic than wizards. Or so they thought, "Them" in question being various six years, mostly Gryffindors and Slytherins, with a few Ravenclaws and even Hufflepuffs thrown in just by luck or fate.
But mostly Gryffindors and Slytherins.
Surprisingly, there was a deviation of the norms – all the students that entered the room were told to place their wands on a table near the entrance for the duration of the Headmaster's speech. Since Dumbledore was reputed to most of the students (and not just Slytherins) to be a bit of an oddball for such a great wizard the request was complied without much complaint: the wands were put down and the students sat, helter-skelter, all over the classroom, not really caring with whom they sat – the meeting was informal, and few out of Slytherin cared for formality, and even a few of Slytherins didn't.
At any rate, it happened that Pansy Parkinson, not really watching where she sat, sat down at the same table that hosted Hermione Grainger, and that caused Millicent Bulstrode, who was a sort of a friend to Pansy, to sit at a table behind her. Of course, Pansy wasn't happy about that. "Now listen, Mudblood," she began, but then Headmaster Dumbledore decided to speak.
"And once more, students, good evening on the faculty's behalf," he spoke in a jovial tone that made more than one Slytherin want to smack him. "As you all know, you have had a bit of an erratic time when dealing with DADA teachers-"
"Erratic? Lupin was a werewolf!"
"Quirrel was a Death Eater!"
"No, the fourth year's teacher was a Death Eater!"
"Lockhart was a git!"
Slam! Surprisingly, Dumbledore interrupted this list of grievances of the students with the DADA teachers by slamming some metallic-looking staff into the floor. "Children, please," he said mildly, but no one really bought it now. "I know that you had rough times before, so this time I decided to play it safe, and gave the position to the man that had much coveted it before – the Hogwarts Master of Potions and the Dean of Slytherin Severus Snape!"
The next moment the room shook with a mighty howl, as many, nay – all student throats, even those of the Slytherin faculty, yelled in protest and disagreement.
Dumbledore waited until the storm of anguish died down, and then he mildly re-started to speak. "Does this mean that you don't want to be in DADA anymore?" A forest of hands arose. "Then I guess I can tell the Aurors that I have found volunteers for their new anti-dark curses antidotes to best tested upon, yes…"
There was a pause, as most of the students in class vainly searched for their wands, momentarily forgetting that they didn't have them at the moment, except for a few, and one of them happened to be Millicent, who still relied on her fists more than onto her wand. And although this didn't really work (she couldn't just walk over to the Headmaster and pummel him, now could she?), it also allowed her notice someone else.
Grainger. The Gryffindor Mudblood wasn't vainly groping for her wand but rather glaring at Dumbledore and otherwise behaving oddly – as if she had something in her sleeve and couldn't decided as to whether or not to use it. Millicent frowned in thought, and then Dumbledore spoke-up once more.
"So, I see that you all had a change of heart? Jolly good! Professor Snape will be absolutely thrilled! As for me, I'll be leaving now – please don't forget to pick up your wands when you leave!" Dumbledore stamped the staff and vanished in a cloud of smoke.
In the resulting confusion, as all students proceeded to sort-out their wands and leave for their dormitories or just leave anyways, Millicent managed to grab Hermione by the collar and "frog-march" her to a safe alcove.
"What do you want, Bulstrode?" Hermione snapped, and not very politely, as soon as she was released by the much stronger girl. "What is your damage?"
"Alright, Grainger, spill it!"
"Spill what?"
"What's your secret? Today, when old Dumby was spilling his crap, you didn't search in vain for your wand like all those others – you were measuring him for his casket as if you already could do so – how?"
Hermione's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why should I tell you?" she asked.
"Because if you don't, all start to… strip-tease before you," Millicent said, using her usual line. Unfortunately, today it just didn't seem to work, or maybe Hermione was made of sterner stuff, or maybe…
"Well, alright. It's not like you'll be able to prove it or anything," she finally said, and produced from her sleeve... a wand. A rather rough-looking wand as well and… it wasn't her usual wand.
Millicent stared at the wand, thinking. "What's so special about this wand – made it yourself or something?" she asked.
"Yes."
There was a pause. "Must've taken you an entire summer."
"No, just two months."
"You spent two months of a summer making a spare wand? Jesus, Grainger, you need to get laid!"
There was another pause as Hermione glared at the bigger girl. "Graingers don't 'get laid,'" she finally spoke in a tone that suggested that any further discussion on that topic was highly unwelcome. But Millicent was a Bulstrode, and so – thick-skinned.
"That's too bad," she drawled, "because that would certainly ease-up a lot of things… although that's not very likely in your case. After all, the only boys in your life are Potter and Weasley-"
"And in yours? Have you gotten laid?"
Millicent was thick-skinned, but sometimes, some questions… "Well, I have entertained some thought about Draco Malfoy," she said rather coyly for her.
"And what does Pug-face have to say about it?"
"She doesn't know, and even if she did – she wouldn't care. I mean, I'm part Welsh, and that's bad."
"I don't know – I mean, she is a newblood1, not a pureblood yet."
"Yeah, Parkinsons are technically newbloods, but I'm part Welsh. That's almost as bad being a Mudblood."
"Gee, thanks," Hermione said, but more wryly than angry. "Are we finished with each other yet?"
"No, not really. Can you make me a spare wand too?"
"That's depends. I mean, my wands tend to burn-out if I try to do any really serious spells, you know?"
Belligerently, Millicent shook her hand. "I don't care."
"All right, fine. Now, what is your wand made out of?"
"Mountain spruce and a troll's heartstring."
"And how are we supposed to get a troll's heartstring?"
Millicent blinked. "Well, what about your wands?"
"Mine are walnut wood and feathers of a long-eared owl – much cheaper. Well, relatively cheaper, considering the state of my allowance, but still…"
Millicent paused, thinking. "What about Snape? Maybe he got some?"
"Then go and get it!"
"But you're the one with the cloak!"
"Firstly, it's Harry's, and secondly why should I go out of the way of helping you?"
Millicent froze. "Fine," she said, feeling strangely upset, "all see you at DADA tomorrow, then?"
"Yeah, I guess," Hermione replied, looking somewhat odd. "Well, bye."
"Bye yourself!"
When Millicent arrived at her dorm, it was nearly empty, save from Blaise Zabini who was busy reading some Gothic novel or other, the rest of the girls gone to Hogsmeade without her once again.
Without any further ado she went and fell onto her bed, depressed as usual.
Or maybe not. This time, new thoughts were bursting through her usual shell of depression and apathy.
Grainger. The Gryffindor Mudblood. Smart enough to make her own wands – and she hated Pansy. If, somehow, Millicent could persuade her that taking Pansy out would make Grainger's while, then maybe one of the bigger obstacles of Millicent's goal of becoming one of the richest and powerful witches in Magical England would be removed. And she'd have a friend.
Now from where did that come from?
Do Slytherins even have friends?
Startled, Millicent sat on her bed, causing a displeased glance from Blaize. "Gees, you make more noise than usual today, don't you?" she asked the bigger girl. "What's your damage? Snape?"
"Don't tell me that you're not worried," Millicent snapped back, protesting. "Now the rest of the school will hate us even more, and he'll be more insufferable as well!"
"We'll weather it," Blaise said in her cryptic manner. "Now if you excuse me, I have a book to read – do try not to disturb me again."
After exchanging a glare, the two Slytherin girls settled to ignore each other once again.
As surprising as it may sound, but Hermione wasn't invited by other girls to Hogsmeade as well, and that was nothing out of ordinary, either.
"Great, ignored again," all she said, knowing that all she'll receive if she'd try to raise a fuss would be a half-hearted apology from the twins and Lavender and nothing more, and Hermione hated that even more.
"I need to make some new friends," she mused aloud, looking at the empty dorm and sighing. "Unfortunately other than Bulstrode-"
Hermione paused, thinking. Unlike other Slytherins, like Draco and Pansy, Bulstrode usually wasn't too mean towards her, and now that that Snape was running DADA, and Dumbledore had finally snapped, some extra inter-house friendship couldn't hurt.
"Why don't we wait and see what'll happen tomorrow," Hermione decided for herself, starting to do her homework. "Maybe nothing will."
"Well, Severus, I trust that you are finally satisfied?" Dominic Zabini asked Severus Snape via the Floo powder.
"Yes sir, though I don't know how you did it-"
"And you won't. I, on the other hand, will get to know quite a lot, won't I, boy?"
"Yes sir," Snape nodded, emphatically. "And, after Richtler goes, I'll hold your hand, not Abraxas'."
"Good, and don't you forget it!" the patriarch of the Zabini family snapped and vanished.
As soon as that happened, Snape felt like collapsing upon himself. Life wasn't fair. If the Ministry, the DA, and the Death Eaters weren't enough, now the Mafia had taken control of his life as well, and there was no escape – he was the DADA teacher for good. Oh well. It not like he had much choice to begin with, right? Lockwood had warned him all those years back ago…
Severus Snape straightened-up. Tomorrow, he had his first DADA class to teach.
1 A wizard like Hermione, born of Muggles is a Mudblood. A wizard family of about two-three generations of non-Muggle blood is a Newblood. A wizard family of about eight-ten generations of non-Muggle blood is an Oldblood. And a wizard of over ten-eleven generations of non-Muggle blood is a Pureblood.