by WretchedScar
Rated: R; HP/DM – Slash (yaoi)
© October 10, 2003
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all of its entities belong to J.K. Rowling. No infringement intended.
PART I
The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the teachers were disagreeing.
"You can't be serious!"
Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry sighed to himself as he sat comfortably at his desk trying to deal with a rather disagreeable moment. "Lemon drop, Severus?" He offered one of the small, Muggle sweets to the now irate Potions Master before him.
"Albus," Professor Severus Snape paused, taking a deep breath. "You can't possibly want to encourage this?" He stared at the other, old wizard who didn't even blink in return. "To let them in once again?!"
"Perhaps I see things differently than you do, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly, a small smile playing at his lips.
"It'll be a catastrophe. She won't know how to handle them! They'll – they'll kill one another," Snape sneered. "It's impossible, out of the question!" he ranted, pacing in front of the Headmaster's desk. "I forbid it!"
"You 'forbid it,' Severus? Isn't that a little extreme? Especially considering my position in conjuncture with your own?" Dumbledore pointed out in yet another moment of wisdom. "Perhaps you need but have a little more faith in the matter?"
Snape did his best to sneer, stopped pacing and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers in an attempt to ward off a headache that was slowly growing stronger by the minute. "I will not be held responsible for the consequences . . ." he started.
"Naturally," Dumbledore nodded in agreement.
"Nor will I rectify any situation that occurs from said consequences . . ." Snape continued.
"Of course," Dumbledore smiled. "I have the utmost faith in the two houses to agree to disagree, and then naturally to agree again, during your departure."
"They'll do more than 'agree to disagree and then agree again' without my presence," Snape warned. He paused, "What in the world do you mean by that?"
"Nothing you should overly concern yourself with at this point, Severus," Dumbledore chuckled. "As it is, Fudge still has his concerns about Hogwarts – and our Mr. Potter; he has been making several inquiries about Harry that concern me. It is time to address this with the Ministry. Without their support we continue to weaken. But our greatest weakness comes from within. This must be rectified."
"And how will you go about doing that, Albus?" Snape questioned. "You can't just hand Mr. Potter over to that ignorant little man and expect any great outcome."
"Of course not," Dumbledore nodded. "We shall not send Harry to the Ministry. Instead we shall send the Ministry to Harry."
"My replacement," Snape acknowledged.
"In the process of this invitation, we will also heed the sorting hat's song and need to begin to unite from within; our first union shall, of course, need to be the houses of Slytherin and Gryffindor; we must mend what once was."
"Is that all?!" Snape rolled his eyes. "Doesn't sound too difficult, oh not at all," he snorted.
"Such an optimist, Severus," Dumbledore smiled. "Nevertheless, I think we shall all be surprised by what happens. Never underestimate the power of enemies united. Now about that vacation . . ."
* * *
"Did you hear?"
"It's just not possible."
"Are you sure?"
"This is going to be the BEST day ever!" Neville Longbottom yelled out loud, jumping up in the air with glee.
Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley all stopped, mid-stride, outside of the Potion's classroom to stare.
"Neville's happy to be going to potions?" Ron gaped. "Is he mad?"
"Ron, for heaven's sake," Hermione scoffed. "There's bound to be an explanation."
"You don't have to get all smart –" Ron started to retort.
Harry smirked and cut him off, "Come on you two, save it for later. Let's find out what's going on." The trio moved into the crowd of students and towards Neville.
"Hey Neville," Harry smiled trying to speak loud enough to be heard over the commotion of the other, excited voices.
"Harry! Did you hear?" Neville exclaimed.
"Hear what?" Hermione spoke up, pushing her own way through the crowd to get closer to Neville as well. Ron quickly followed behind her.
"Professor Snape won't be at class today! Isn't it wonderful?!" Neville beamed. His cheeks were a rosy red and his smile couldn't have been any greater. "Maybe I'll actually be able to brew something right for a change!"
"Why won't he be here," Harry asked, frowning.
"Is he sick?" Ron queried. "I mean beyond being mad that is." He grunted as Hermione elbowed him in the side as a reprimand.
"No one knows," Neville shrugged. "But I heard Pansy telling Blaise that it couldn't be good, that he's never missed a day of class in all the years he's been at Hogwarts."
"Maybe he's finally been sacked," Ron looked hopeful.
"No, I don't think so Ron," Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's probably just sick or answering to -," she lowered her voice, "- to you-know-who."
Harry pursed his lips and nodded his agreement. He had always wondered how Snape had managed balancing his time as a Professor with spying on Voldemort for Dumbledore. Now he guessed they were all going to start seeing the repercussions of Snape living a double life.
"So who will be filling in then?" Hermione queried. "Someone will be filling in won't they? We have yet to finish studying Chapter ninety-three, part B and we can't afford to get behind with exams coming up and I will not stand for –"
"Calm. Down. Hermione." Harry chuckled. "I'm sure there will be someone to take over today. Maybe one of the other teachers?"
Neville shook his head, "I heard they sent someone over from the Ministry to fill in until Snape gets back."
"From the Ministry?" Hermione wrinkled her brow. "After what happened last year? That's odd." Hermione looked thoughtful.
"Must be Fudge's doing. Dad says he's still trying to nosey around Hogwarts," Ron sighed. "He has some nerve! Keeps trying to cast a doubtful light on Harry, but by now it's all lost in the rumors of a future war."
Harry felt his chest tighten when Neville had brought up the possibility of a substitute from the ministry. If Fudge truly were using Snape's absence to gain privy to Hogwarts then surely it would be anything but good. Especially since he still had yet to forgive Harry for alerting the magical community to the return of the Dark Lord.
"Well, I'm sure whomever it is will know better than to . . .," Hermione said quietly. They both turned to look at Harry, small smiles on their faces.
"Than to ban me from quidditch for a lifetime, to make me write lines until my hand bleeds, or perhaps to not threaten to use the cruciatus curse on me? What else am I forgetting? I can't seem to remember . . .Oh well," Harry shrugged, glaring.
"Don't worry, Harry," Ron shrugged. "I'm sure it'll be a much better day without Snape – even if it is a Ministry substitute. And besides, Dumbledore is still in residence here. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to you or to any of us." He swallowed with a case of the nerves.
"Yeah, you're right," Harry smiled quietly and fell silent, waiting.
The door to the potions room magically opened and the time had come.
* * *
"Granger, Hermione. . ."
"Here, Professor."
"Longbottom,
Neville . . ."
"Yes? Er, right here."
"Malfoy, Draco . . ."
"Present."
Harry sighed and listened as their Substitue teacher slowly made her way closer to his name. After he and the other students had entered the classroom he was taken aback to see their substitue sitting calmly at Snape's desk, waiting for them with a firm look in place on her face. She was a rather lean, tall woman with black hair that was long and thick; she had gray eyes and her nose was short which made her pursed lips look out of place. She did not smile, she did not blink – it was as though they had a female version of Snape to render the day with.
"Hurry and sit down, we must get started," she stated, standing as everyone found their usual place. "My name is Professor Rugdunn and I will be stepping in for Professor Snape for the next two weeks. I am also a ministry official," she stated, her gaze sweeping over every child in the class, "as I am sure you are all aware."
Some coughing and a few people shifting in their seats greeted that statement.
"There will be no idle chit-chat, no fighting, no speaking back and no cheating. You are to be to class on time and to have your assignments completed and ready to hand in at the beginning, not the end, of the hour. Do I make myself clear?"
Murmurs of a 'yes mam' were heard from every which way.
"Good! Now then, onto roll call," she stated gaily which made everyone do a double take. And so the names came and went, and Harry wondered whether or not there would be a reaction on the part of Professor Rugdunn to his name. After all he was still not in good standing with the Ministry let alone any of their personal officials.
"Parkinson, Pansy . . ."
"Here!"
Harry blinked and tried to calm his stirring stomach. He was briefly distracted when he heard Ron's quill moving on parchment to his left and carefully, as not to draw attention, looked down.
I think this one is going to have as many mood swings as Snape and Umbridge.
Harry couldn't help but smirk and quietly chuckle as he read what Ron had written. He fingered the parchment and felt thankful for his friend's sense of humor in trying to lighten things up.
"Mr. Potter."
Harry paused. The hair on his neck started to stand up and he could hear the Slytherins snickering in the background. That was never, ever a good sign.
Harry let his gaze move upward from the parchment to lock with the new Professor's gaze.
"Mam?"
"Are you with us, Mr. Potter . . ." she asked sarcastically.
"Yes, Professor," Harry stated quietly, swallowing.
"Would you care to explain your delinquency in not answering the initial roll-call?" she inquired with a calculating look to her eyes.
This was not how Harry wanted to start things off. "I'm sorry," he stated the apology and looked down. "I didn't hear you," he stated truthfully.
"You are here to learn, Mr. Potter. A short attention span will get you nowhere within these walls, let alone outside of them," she sniffed. "Now then," she continued on. "We are going to mix you all up!"
"Mix us all up?!" Draco Malfoy, who had been silent up until that point, wrinkled his nose and glared. "Whatever for?"
"Mr. Malfoy, questions should be saved for the lesson please," Rugdunn stated sternly. "Now then, let's have one Slytherin for every Gryffindor – in alphabetical order please. When I call your name – you shall go join the other student I place you with."
Several audible groans mixed with the commotion of moving chairs as pairs were picked.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut and mentally tried to wish all of this class away. 'I'd actually prefer Snape back!' his mind moaned. He knew what was coming – it was a given, given the alphabet.
"Malfoy, Draco with Potter, Harry," Rugdunn stated with unabashed relish.
The classroom went silent. Harry felt his head swirl. When would this end?!
"Coming, Potter?" Draco smirked as he walked by the other boy, heading towards a free spot at the long desk. "Or are you going to stand there all day."
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry grumbled and found the chair next to his archrival's.
"Watch it, Scarface," Malfoy glared. "I'd hate to see you follow in the footsteps of your precious dog-father," the other boy sneered.
Harry was silent with rage. He could feel his body shaking with anger.
"Light your cauldrons and begin," was the only thing Harry heard Rugdunn say since the time he had found his seat up until Malfoy's cruel sentiments.
"Here," Malfoy shoved the ingredients at Harry. There was a pile of oober-worm entrails, some dragon's scales among other things that no one seemed to want to touch. "You cut, slice, dice and stew and I'll sit back and take notes," he grinned, tapping his quill on the table. "Get busy, scarhead. We haven't got all day!"
Harry had had enough. All he could still hear was Malfoy's insult to Sirius' name. One moment Harry was staring at Malfoy's smirking face, the next he was throwing oober-worm at Malfoy's smirking face.
"Take – it – BACK!" Harry exploded.
Malfoy sat there and blinked, the oober-worm entrails making a steady, gooey stream down his face.
"Don't you ever," Harry stated as he picked up some of the dragon's scales and threw them at Malfoy, "EVER say ANYTHING about my God-Father again!!! Your father is -"
"Don't say ANYTHING about MY father," Draco yelled. "At least I HAVE one! Yours is DEAD, remember?!"
Harry sprang from his chair, ready to punch Malfoy in the face.
"MISTER POTTER!" Professor Rugdunn raced forward and grabbed Harry's arm. "How DARE you try to attack another student!"
One moment Harry was being held back from his lunge toward the other boy and then the next he was being physically dragged towards the front of the classroom.
Harry only had time to take one breath and blink before he realized that the Professor had her wand out and it was heading his way. He tried to pull back but found she still had his wrist tightly grasped, pulling the palm of his hand out.
"We do NOT," she stated firmly as her wand came down to hit his palm with a resounding smack, "harm our classmates!"
"We do NOT," she stated again, as the wand came down a second time to leave a searing red mark, "yell at our classmates. We do not throw things at our classmates." On and on it went.
Harry felt his breathing go ragged with each hit the wand made across his outstretched palms. Lines were nothing compared to this. Hell, he might have even preferred the cruciatus again to this. To each his own. He tried to pull away but found he could not. She was surprisingly strong.
Harry hated feeling weak – after all of the brave things he had done, the trials he had gone through and survived he found himself being affected by a little classroom punishment? How could this be? Perhaps it was because he was being 'tested' in the one place he normally, for the most part, felt safe . . . Hogwarts.
'These things are supposed to happen at the Dursleys . . . when I face Voldemort . . . not here . . not Hogwarts . . . not where I usually feel at home!' his mind yelled to himself.
The wand hit again, for what must have been the eighth time and he cried out. He cried out!
'How could I cry out?' he raged to himself, embarrassed.
"PROFESSOR!"
Harry stopped struggling, his breath heavy and his eyes watering with pain. The teacher stopped her punishment and turned towards the voice. No one else said a word.
"Mr. Malfoy?" Rugdunn asked incredulously, surprised he would be the one to interrupt.
"Though no doubt a punishment is warranted," Malfoy stated quietly – not inferring whether it were Potter or he who needed it, "only the Headmaster of this school is allowed to inflict want lashes on a student."
Time seemed to dwindle ever so slowly.
Finally, Harry felt his wrist released and was able to take a step back.
"I see," Rugdunn stated. "I see."
Everyone was on the edge of their seats as if ready to run from the madness they had witnessed.
"Yes, well, none of the staff felt it necessary to inform me of this. Nor was I afforded any handbook that stated this. I will have to review the proper rules and procedures after I speak with the Headmaster."
"Those proper rules and procedures are usually common knowledge," Malfoy stated with his usual air. "Though I don't expect many Ministry officials would be aware of this since they don't usually find their way into positions at Hogwarts all that much, do they?"
Rugdunn looked rather angry with Malfoy's calm yet to the point statement. The underlying meaning was quite obviously there.
"I will have to speak to the Headmaster on this issue," she stated covering for herself. "Mr. Potter," she turned to him with a blank expression. "I . . . apologize," she stated curtly. There was no sincerity in her words whatsoever. "In the meantime . . . class is dismissed. You may all leave."
Everyone quietly gathered their things and headed out the door. Harry couldn't move – he was still in shock with what had happened. If it hadn't been for Ron and Hermione coming up to gently escort him out of the classroom he probably still would have been standing there, staring at Professor Rugdunn – yet another Umbridge.
It was all rather painful and unbelievable. It was, in itself, yet another day . . .
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED . . . .