Chapter Two: Tea
I lay in bed the next morning, wondering how best to irritate Professor Snape. Well, I supposed that since we were something of colleagues now, I should refer to him by his first name. I wondered how best to pronounce it, to bring the greatest discomfort to him. Seeeeeeeeeverus. Severooooos? Or maybe I could get it completely wrong and spend all day calling him Barry. Heh, heheh. I marveled at my own genius. Throwing back the navy silks that adorned my very own four-poster (fancy!), I leapt from the king-sized bed and flung open my closet with a flourish. I stood for quite some time, trying to decide what outfit would infuriate the Potions Master the most. Finally, I decided. I would wear my pleated navy micro-mini and the black tank top from the previous day. Oh yes. I was the master.
By the time I reached the dungeons, it was bitterly cold. Of course. First day of the school year in the morning, it was always the coldest. After a few days, the heat from two hundred fires a day made it nearly bearable. But this morning was just cold, so I cast a lengthening charm on my socks. They turned thigh-high, navy and black striped. Quite good spellwork, if I did say so myself. I made it to the Potions room five minutes before the lesson was due to start. Professor Snape – er, Severus – was sitting at his desk at the front of the class, writing some last-minute notes for the classes of the day.
"Morning!" I said brightly, trying to keep the chatter out of my voice. "Couldn't conjure me up a cup of tea, could you?"
"I am not your servant," he replied, keeping his eyes on the papers. He hadn't even looked at me yet. I pouted.
"Well fine, but I warn you, I'm terrible with culinary spells," I said, pointing my wand at the table, where a mug appeared. I gave a little spin to my wand, and pale brown liquid began to pour out. "Dum de dum, making tea for me, tea for me, for me, for me!" I sang. I could see Severus's quill pressing down harder on the parchment, and I smiled. "Oops!" I cried, with an over-enthusiastic flourish as tea spilled over the side of my mug and all over his work. "Gosh, I'm terribly sorry. If there's anything I could do -"
I couldn't say anything more, for in a split second there was a wand to my throat and Severus was glaring at me as though he wanted nothing more than to shove that wand straight through my neck. "I warned you," I whispered, then realised that his face was approximately two inches from my own and I couldn't for the life of me remember whether or not I had brushed my teeth that morning. His eyes narrowed, but the minute he properly looked at me, he lowered his wand and stared.
"What on earth are you wearing, Vialle?"
"It's Raphaela," I corrected. "And these are clothes, Severus. Some people wear them. Robes are not clothes, they're just a lazy way of getting dressed."
"Apron?" He asked. I produced a frilly cotton French maid's apron from my small bag and put it on. He raised an eyebrow.
"That doesn't look very protective."
I smiled broadly. "Try to stain me! Go on!" Severus picked up my overflowing mug of tea and flung the contents at me, with a horrible smile on his face. It bounced off and fell to the ground, leaving me spotless. "The charm on this thing stretches over my entire body," I said, drawing out the last two words. "Maybe I could get one for you too?"
"Vialle!" Severus cried, flinging his arms up and storming across the room. "You are undoubtedly the most irritating, self-satisfied -" he paused. I didn't get to find out exactly what I was, for first-year students had begun to mill into the dungeon, looking apprehensive yet eager.
Yeah, this chapter was really short. Sorry! I had to make it this short because I was having some issues with the overall length. Don't worry, every other chapter will be about twice as long as this one. If you're still freaking out about length then you can go back and re-read this chapter (or indeed any HP book or fic) and mentally replace the word 'wand' with the word 'wang'. It's a laugh.