Recap: Because of the Ministry's machinations, Harry acquires the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He's in for a surprise if he thinks life will be a piece of cake as a Hogwarts teacher…hmm, cake.

This fanfiction is beta-read and practically co-written by Prose by S.A.

Author's Note: I apologize for the lateness, but my Beta-reader (i.e. my cousin) didn't make the deadline (ahem). (Chains her to her computer and takes away her Caspian-plushie) she says she's sorry as well, doesn't she? (S.A. vigorously nods at the crazy author – "Please review, she has my plushie hostage!")

When The Flames Spark

By MurderedLogic

Chapter two – Frustrations

Severus Snape, ever the dark and formidable figure, sat at the Teacher's Table in the Great Hall with the habitual sneer on his face, awaiting this year's batch of Hogwarts' magical students. It was the start of a new term. The students, returning and new, would be filing into the large expanse of a room, all their boisterous excitement and nerves loudly filling the air until the Potions Master felt the stirrings of a headache. Severus didn't think the room could be big enough to escape the disgusting frivolity, so he settled with honing his famous scowl (a look that could make a grown man wet himself), though somewhat unused during the summer months, on some innocent second years. They didn't cower immediately, so he determined that he was out of shape and needed some practice…he would no doubt be back to his old self, scowl and all, by the night's end…and if he was really auspicious, he might even send a fifth year screaming down the aisles. Formalities, formalities…he only attended the Start-of-Term-Feast on Dumbledore's wishes anyways.

Gods, I hope I fireproofed the dungeons already, no doubt the Creevy brothers will manage to blow something up in the first five minutes. He hated this time of year. It meant he would acquire a new set of clumsy and destructive dunderheads to whom he would have the great displeasure of teaching the delicate art of potion-making. Not only that, but a new blithering idiot – I mean colleague – that will be taking over the Defense class….

Dumbledore had told Severus that he had found a replacement so that, "you can keep working with your beloved potions." The old coot, bless his soul, had even had a twinkle beneath his half-moon spectacles as he'd said it. The old wizard had been evasive as to the identity of the new professor; he had just smiled at Severus and said, "It will be a delightful surprise, my boy. Good lord, I'd say you might even enjoy it." A little more than slightly put off, Severus had excused himself with the justification that he'd had a potion that needed to be tended.

Like he'd predicted, the sudden noise of the bustling cretins – er, students – had interrupted his thoughts. They were finding their seats at the house tables, talking animatedly to one another. Only when everyone had found their proper place and quieted down did Professor McGonagall retrieve the first years, who gaped at the magical ceiling with wonder and innocence, to be sorted. The surly Potions Master couldn't be bothered to pay attention.

Before Severus knew it, the headmaster was standing and warning the students not to trek into the Dark Forest, to not wander the corridors after hours, and to refrain from misusing magic, et cetera. Apparently Filch had banned all of the Weasley Wizard Wheeze's products from the school's premises, much to the students' dismay. Thank heavens for little miracles.

"And now, for the moment I know some of you may be curious about – the introduction to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Unfortunately, our new Defense professor will not be joining us tonight. He is attending to some affairs in London and will not be here 'till the start of classes this Monday," Dumbledore announced to the school's population, which was followed by some disappointed groans. Severus had to stop himself from sighing in frustration as well. However, all were still looking at their beloved headmaster expectantly, waiting for him to give the name of this new professor. Ever the eccentric, the old wizard just tipped his hat with a nonchalant, "Well, tuck in and enjoy the feast," as if it explained everything.

Severus glared at the headmaster as he sat back down at the head table. "Aren't you going to eat Severus? It is quite the feast! The house elves really outdid themselves this year," Dumbledore exclaimed while helping himself to a giant spoonful of mashed potatoes, never mind that the house elves outdid themselves every year.

Severus gathered a portion of vegetables and chicken on his plate as if to satisfy the old wizard before he turned and asked Dumbledore, "Albus, why will you not tell anyone on the staff about this new professor? Is it really that much of a secret? It is not as if I will begrudge them….I am quite content with Potions." He practically spat this out and found it hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Oh, I know, my boy. However, I wish to keep this a secret because…it humors me to do so. Would you deny an old wizard a joke or two?" He asked harmlessly, his eyes sparkling with unhidden mirth. Dumbledore turned away, signaling the end to the conversation. "Would you be so kind to pass the gravy, Minerva?"

"Bloody Gryffindors," Severus muttered under his breath and continued to eat his meal in silence, glaring at the students all the while.

SSHP

The first morning of classes rolled by and still no sign of the new Defense professor, who had been the talk of the school the entire weekend. Everyone was gossiping about whom they thought he would be, each idea seeming more and more ridiculous; honestly, nobody, not even Dumbledore, would hire a giant to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts...such was the absurdity of the rumors flying around.

"Detention, Mr. Greggory. I will absolutely not tolerate another snippet of gossip in my class. If I hear one more whisper, the whole class will be assigned nightly potions essays for two weeks on top of regular homework, is that clear?" Severus asked in a deadly stern tone as he was handing out the syllabus for his fourth year class. Everyone nodded and it looked as if several students were holding their breath. If ten detentions on the first day of class was anything to go by, then it was safe to assume that Professor Snape was not in a good mood. I guess it would be easier to cast a silence spell, but the sadistic side of me likes to cackle as they squirm.

Lunch had finally arrived after what seemed like ages of monotonously blathering on about the most boringly basic ingredients. He was headed for the Great Hall from the dungeons when he couldn't help but overhear a group of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students as they passed by, discussing what he assumed was the new Defense professor.

"I can't believe it's him!" one girl squealed excitedly.

"He's absolutely gorgeous!" whispered another dreamily.

"He's totally wicked, mate. I can't believe all the stuff he told us actually happened to him," a boy said to his friends.

Severus was severely irritated by the time he entered the Great Hall. He sat down at the head table in his customary seat next to the headmaster, who smiled at him and continued talking to Professor Flitwick about the latest home decorating charms. They must be the only ones not talking about the new professor…just my luck. He hasn't even shown his face and already he's the talk of the whole bloody school. If I didn't know any better, I would say it was...

Then, just as he was about to finish that train of thought, in he walks through the teacher's door…the one and only…Harry Potter. The-bloody-boy-who-wouldn't-bloody-die. The bane of Snape's existence. And apparently, professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts to boot…figures. Fan-fucking-tastic…I should have known this was what Dumbledore had up his overly-elaborate sleeve.

SSHP

Severus had seen many things as both a teacher and a spy and he liked to think he'd be prepared for anything that Albus Dumbledore could throw at him. But nothing, not even Trelawny's tea leaves or crystal ball, could have prepared him to watch the very adult version of The Golden Boy join the teachers at the head table.

Severus shook his head slightly, barely containing the loathing he felt rising in his throat at the sheer audacity that Potter had the guts to sit at the same table with the teachers he'd practically tormented for seven years (as he'd had to suffer through reading the boy's potions essays, he couldn't imagine what the other professors must have endured). Gods, he despised Potter and his perfect reputation, and his perfect smile, and his perfect hair, his perfect shoulders…his perfect skin. Yet there he was, cheerily making conversation with Professor Vector and Madame Hooch as if they'd always been old friends. Severus couldn't conceal his grimace as he poked at his food and desperately tried to ignore the Potter-turned-professor (which was harder than he'd thought).

Pomona Sprout, who had also witnessed Potter's interactions with fondness, leaned closer to Severus subtly and whispered conspiratorially, "Fifty galleons says the Daily Prophet will be all over this in twenty-four hours."

Severus, not one to peg Sprout for a gambler, raised his eyebrows, then glanced at Potter again as if weighing his chances. Something mysterious rose up inside him at that very moment, an unknown emotion that made his scowl disappear, something that had suddenly turned the tables, something that had planted a little seed inside his brain and made him think, Well, if nothing else, this could get interesting.

As he turned back to Professor Sprout, he had a smug glint in his dark eyes. "You're on."

To be continued