Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or the settings in this story, it all belongs to J. K. Rowling

Hey, I'm back. This update took me way longer than expected, but the last two weeks have been rather busy.
Also, the chapter are much longer than I intended, so I will post it in two separate parts -one today, the other won't be long.
By the way, last weekend (26./27. of January) I changed the second chapter a bit since I was not quite happy with it. You may want to reread it, but you don't have to for it won't really affect any later chapters.

That being said, I wish you much fun and hope you enjoy!

"Today, you will transform Flobberworms into rings", Severus announced as he entered Minerva's classroom, banging the door shut behind him.

Several second years, particularly girls, shuddered with disgust, but he continued nevertheless: "Now, the major difficulty of this particular Transfiguration lies in shaping the worm, a living, breathing creature, into such cold, dead material as rings are made of. Take silver or gold; brittle, wrought metals."

As he arrived next to Minerva's desk, he spun around in order to face the students. Immediately, his eyes fell on Potter and his little friends, all of which sat in the third row, in the middle of the room.

Snape had to concentrate very hard to keep his temper. The features of the boy's face, so very much like his father's, aroused hatred in him whenever he saw them. Deep-rooted, virulent hatred that he had borne for decades and Severus was sure not to let go of it anytime soon. But then again… Those bright green eyes, Lily's eyes…

Trying hard to push all of those feeling aside, Snape conjured a box of Flobberworms. "Longbottom", he then called on the chubby-faced boy. "Hand those out, will you?"

Nodding and mumbling something like "Yes, Professor McGonagall", Neville got up immediately, completely without a single flash of the reluctance Severus was used to from his own Potion lessons; Minerva certainly had her students under control, that much was safe to say.

It was easy to see that he was not too keen on touching the worms, but he reached into the box and placed one in front of each of his classmates without the slightest protest.

As soon as he had seated himself once more, Severus drew a sharp breath. "Alright. Watch closely, everyone."

With those words and a swish of his wand, the small creature on his own desk turned into filigree jewellery in the blink of an eye. As the students gaped at him with expressions of pure awe on their faces, he put the silver ring with the sparkling emerald leaves on his finger, announcing: "Bonus points if your ring looks nice."

McGonagall was a woman. Surely, she would attach value to such trivial things as the prettiness of a piece of a metal.

"What are you waiting for? Begin!"

Although he remembered her sitting behind her desk, watching her students with narrowed, vigilant eyes or correcting long roles of parchment all hour, shaking her head wearily and uttering under her breath, Snape found himself unable to imitate her and sit still during that particular class. That technique had worked perfectly fine with the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Fourth-graders he had taught the previous hour, but this was different…

Pacing around restlessly, he looked over several people's shoulders while they were trying to accomplish the task. The students in question tensed visibly as he watched them, but they did so reverently rather than anxiously which felt relatively new for Severus.

Whenever he passed Granger, he reluctantly awarded her a Housepoint for she was always able to present a new, shining ring to him. Some were even decorated with subtle gold ornaments whereas others were jewelled.

Giving her points was hard enough; after all, he thereby added to Gryffindor's chances of beating his very own House, and he also was well known for not having awarded a single point to a lion in about ten years. But what was worse, much worse, was faking that sickeningly encouraging smile while cooing her oh-so-marvellous work. Merlin, being nice to her was hard! So after having suffered that agony four times, he made sure to avoid passing by Hermione's table.

As his eyes fell on Potter, the rage boiled up again. Oh, how very much he loathed that brat… He was just as arrogant and smug as his father, all the limelight hog he had been, though nobody seemed to notice. But how could they, being as busy fawning on him as they were.

Severus' piercing gaze burned into the boy's back which didn't seem to go unnoticed by him: Harry looked up from his task, glancing around with confusion. How wonderful it would be to jinx him, to make him pay for all he and his bloody father had ever done to Severus…

Suddenly, it dawned on him: He now acted as Potter's Head of House! This opened up a whole new lot of possibilities… Had he never been in the position to expel him, he could do so now! Had McGonagall's call been the final one, it was now his decision that counted in the end! It would be so easy to just… But no, he had promised not to torment the boy for the time being…

Oh, screw you, McGonagall!, he thought before saying crisply: "Mr. Potter?"

The Potter offspring, smiling innocently, turned to face him, but Severus knew better; that good-little-boy-image was just a mask, and underneath he was just as wicked and vicious as his father had been. But he could play that game, too. With a sweet smile he chirruped: "Would you kindly stop staring at poor Ms. Patil and concentrate on your work instead?"

"But Professor, I didn't-", the little brat tried to protest, only to be cut off by his teacher.

"See, I know that dreamy, enamoured gaze and I understand that you must be going through a very hard time. It is never easy once the hormones kick in –believe me, I am aware of your confusion", Severus said with his most understanding voice.

A wave of embarrassment went through the classroom as students shifted in their chairs uncomfortably. Everyone's eyes were fixed on either Parvati Patil, who had blushed visibly despite the relatively dark shade of her skin, and Harry, who had sunk deeper into his chair and looked like he wished the ground would open and swallow him up.

"Professor, I really didn't…", he tried yet again.

"No, Potter, there is no need to be ashamed. What you feel and think is only natural once you have hit puberty…"

"Oh dear Merlin, she isn't going to talk about the birds and the bees, is she?", Dean Thomas groaned with exasperation. Several students, like Lavender Brown or Ron Weasley, had turned scarlet and looked down at their tables in embarrassment.

Seamus Finnigan, however, just gave him a confused look. "What's that with birds 'n' bees?" Yet again, Severus was surprised with their utter innocence, but he didn't let it on.

"…and you should not feel the need to deny it. I cannot accept, however, that you fantasise about Ms. Patil during my class." Severus said decidedly, having had yet another brilliant idea.

"I really haven't-", Potter stuttered, not daring to look at Parvati who had flushed as red as Weasley's hair. Sure she would give him hell for getting her into that uncomfortable situation –but only after she had clamed down.

Meanwhile, Severus had walked over to Potter's desk, and casting a non-verbal spell at once of the boy's parchments, he then reached for exactly this piece of paper.

"'Dear Parvati,'", he read. "'Your hair's black like Snape's, I heard you like grapes, why can't we be mates? My heart beats for you, hope you feel it too, you're my Parsi-boo!' I'm sorry Potter, but that's just sad!"

Harry looked like he wanted to protest violently, but he only managed to squeak helplessly: "I didn't write that…!"

"Also, there are quite a lot of hearts and rather… inappropriate drawings to go with it", Severus stated with a frown. "I'm sorry, Potter, but I'm afraid I'll have to confiscate this."

Stuffing the parchment into the pocket of Minerva's skirt, he returned to her desk, allowing a smirk of satisfaction to touch his lips while being turned away from the students. Upon sitting down, he gleefully inspected the effects of him publically humiliating Potter; every student had blushed at least a little bit and everyone was working silently, bent over their tables in order to avoid the others' gaze.

He would most certainly pay for that later, but it was completely worth it. Also, Snape had to admit, this was, by far, more discrete and therefore effective than openly harassing the boy and it would most certainly have quite an impact on him and his classmates.

Distractedly, he began fidgeting with some papers that were scattered on the desk. When Severus' eyes fell onto one particular scrap of parchment, though, he froze in mid-motion.

As if written by an invisible hand, words appeared on the sheet. Glowing in a deep, emerald colour that contrasted the creamy shade of the paper, the letters formed these words: So have you deprived my Gryffindors of all of their points already, or is there still a chance we win this year's House Trophy?

Although he recognised the cursive, elegant handwriting within a second, it took him much longer than he could be proud of to figure out what was going on. With a smirk that went unnoticed by the students, he then grabbed a quill and scribbled on the same piece of paper:

As a matter of fact, I have conceded them a few points rather than taking them away, but either way, there is no way in hell you'll win this thing.

After having written down his answer, he let his eyes wander about the classroom again. To his great disappointment, both Potter and Weasley were still working silently, leaving him with no chance to punish them in any way.

How could he possibly have been so clueless about what was going on? When he had still been a student, the Nuntius-charm had been a popular and rather discreet way of passing notes to peers during class; he himself had only been able to endure History of Magic because of "Nutium tradere". Lily and he had been writing the whole hour, and Binns had never noticed. Of course, they could have been shouting and he wouldn't have interrupted his lectures, but this way they had felt much sneakier when they were still 12 years old.

What!? You have awarded points to Gryffindor? Are you quite sure you shouldn't let Poppy have a look at you?

A small smile played around the corners of Severus' mouth. In a way, students had been much cleverer and a good deal more inventive back in his day; today's youth was whispering or passing notes by hand, and both techniques were easily detected. How could the good, old Nuntius-charm have sunken into oblivion?

How utterly amusing. Laugh all you like, McGonagall, but don't you dare tell anyone or I shall controvert this statement with all my might.

Upon catching himself looking for a reason to deduct Housepoints from Potter for the third time in the last ten minutes, Severus decided that he desperately needed a distraction. But as it turned out, focusing on Lavender Brown instead did not really help his cause, for she was going about the task so very clumsily that Severus felt the urge to transfigurate the girl into a ring herself.

But no, she might even like it, for Merlin's sake! The girl was about as shallow as can be and Snape could imagine her leading an all too happy existence as a brilliant piece of jewellery on the chubby finger of some fat, arrogant pure-blood lady.

"Merlin, I can't watch you any longer", he finally snarled at her as he set out towards her table. The blonde flinched in alarm, as did half of the class. "Look, Brown… The secret lies in the circular motion. As you speak the incantation, you must draw an orbital with your wand, as if you were to actually work the worm into that particular shape."

At first, the girl with the dirty blonde hair had seemed startled and somewhat frightened, but as she raised her eyes, she beamed up at him gratefully. "Thank you so much, Professor."

Confused, Severus answered with a short nod. No matter how hard he concentrated, he could not think of a single time a student had thanked him for snapping at them.

As he turned back to the desk to see whether Minerva had answered, Granger's arm that had shot into the air came into view. Usually, he would not have paid her much attention, well… He would have ignored her. But the state he was in today could hardly be referred to as 'usual'.

"Yes, Miss Granger?", he called on her, and yes, he even listened as she complained about being underemployed. The silly, far too ambitious girl completely missed out on the whole class groaning and rolling their eyes at her.

"Fine", Snape said calmly, ignoring the other pupils' irritated huffing. Most of them had managed to produce at least one ring-shaped piece of metal anyways. "Those of you who have successfully accomplished the first task may move on to transforming spiders into brooches."

Patil and Brown blatantly let out shrieks of disgust, but none of their reactions could be compared to Weasley's: Ronald paled visibly, the rosy colour drained from his cheeks and his expression grew terrified. His eyeballs almost seemed close to popping out and his lower lip was trembling when he stuttered:

"S-Spiders?"

Fascinating… So that was the redhead's soft spot? Good to know. Severus made a mental note to concentrate on teaching potions that required at least one spider-related ingredient.

"Yes, Weasley, spiders. Small, eight-eyed creatures with immense importance to the Wizarding World due to their superb magic qualities. What are you, a wizards or a sissy?", the stated drily, and although he knew he should do his best to look the stern Transfiguration Professor, he could not completely ban the gloating from his eyes. "Or would you rather I let you practise with a fully grown Acrumantula?"

Weasley did not respond; he just closed his mouth that had been standing slightly open and gaped at the eight-legged creature that Longbottom had placed on his table.

This new task, however, posed even more problems than the first one, and Severus found himself running from one student's desk to the next one. Luckily, there were no major accidents as there had been in his earlier lesson; no hair was set on fire, no nose vanished, he even managed to survive the class without an ostrich apparating in his classroom, for Merlin's sake!

Once, Seamus Finnigan came dangerously close to transforming Dean Thomas, who was sitting next to him, into a giant earthworm and Severus, though usually he would have paid good money to see this, prevented it. Nevertheless, he could not help but cackle silently when Parvati Patil barked like a Terrier after a spell had hit her.

The class kept Snape rather busy, so he did not get a chance to look at Minerva's reply until after the students had left.

I would not dream of it, Severus. Anyways, before I forget: I meant to inform you earlier, but I have to admit that Goldilocks got me distracted. After class, you are to head straight to my private chambers for Pomona and Poppy are supposed to join me for tea.
Since I highly doubt you have been there before: My living quarters are located on the first floor, behind a portrait of Godric Gryffindor; my password is "Montrose Magpies".
Have fun and in the name of Merlin's tartan underpants, don't embarrass me in front of the girls!

That statement was not once, not twice, but thrice ridiculous:

Firstly, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout were anything but cute little girls; they were both old enough to be his mother, they had already been part of the Hogwarts furniture when he had still been a student and during the last decade he had spent working alongside them, they had proven their sharp tongue and their caustic yet delightful (when directed at anyone but him) humour quite a few times. Well, Pomona had. Poppy was too much of a lady to taunt him openly, but she had a subtle sarcastic wit to her person that was about equally entertaining.

Secondly, solely Minerva McGonagall could have suggested Merlin's knickers to be tartan. Bloody stubborn Scots… After all, everybody knew they were heart-patterned. Duh.

Ultimately, this was just so cliché! Of course her private chambers would be guarded by no less a figure than Godric Gryffindor himself. Of course she would use her favourite (Scotish) Quidditch team as a password.

Severus rolled his eyes. Sometimes, Minvera could be so ver- Wait a moment.

Had she been serious about the two ladies visiting?

Incredulously, Snape read and re-read what she had written. How could she do that to him? Leaving him to chat and have tea with the two of them, exchanging pleasantries and –heaven forbid!– discussing fashion or men or other women's themes was like throwing him to the wolves!

You'll pay for this, McGonagall!, Severus thought grudgingly as he shoved the piece of parchment into the pocket of her skirt and reluctantly got moving.

When he had found the portrait of the Founder, the Gryffindor engaged him in light chitchat for a while before the picture swung aside to let him enter without asking for the password. Once inside, Severus drew a few deep breaths; what a very, very tiring day.

Neither had he gotten used to the creepy cracking-noise his bones made at his very move, nor to the constant, dull pain in his limbs. Also, walking in high-heeled boots was an art he was sure he would never truly master.

Right, the tea…

Having no idea what Minerva's house elf was named, he simply clicked his fingers; a second later, a loud crack filled the room, and a small creature beamed up at him eagerly. "Mistress has called? What can Quinny do for Mistress?"

Severus looked at the house elf for a moment before answering: "Well, Quinny, as a matter of fact I am expecting Pomf- err, Poppy and Pomona for tea, so-"

Grinning broadly, the elf indicated a small coffee table in front of the fireplace on which a tray with three flowery cups, a similarly patterned teapot and a flower-rimmed, white plate with various biscuits was placed. In the chimney, a warming and welcoming fire was flickering merrily, drenching the whole room in glowing red light.

"I see. Thank you, Quinny", Severus muttered. Huh. That hen party seemed to be a regular thing. With a sudden inspiration, he then added: "Oh, and would you kindly inform Professor Snape that Professor Lockhart is searching for him? Or better still – Tell Lockhart that Severus desperately wants to speak to him!"

Albeit confused, the house elf nodded and disappeared. Smiling mischievously, Severus looked out of the window – the sky had grown darker yet again, for it had started raining a few seconds ago. Currently, rain was pouring down heavily, whipping against the windowpanes.

Nevertheless, Snape fancied spotting dark shapes flying through the uprising storm; drawing closer to his window, he figured it must be either the Gryffindor or the Slytherin Quidditch team practising despite the horrible weather. Under the dark, angry sky, the players were racing through the rain in a blur that made it impossible to guess the colours of their capes; but one need not be a talented seer to know that the students, whatever team it may be, were soaked to the bone. Severus shook his head slowly; all that enthusiasm and ambition was quite admirable, though plainly foolish.

"What are you scowling at, Min?", he suddenly heard the familiar voice of Pomona, who must have entered without him noticing, from behind.

Severus tried his best to imitate Minerva's stern, disapproving glance that he himself had feared in his school years before turning around to face her. "They're practising!", he stated the obvious. "Now. With that storm going on outside."

"Min! Don't you act all responsible and adult-like all the time", Pomona whined as she plonked herself down on the sofa in front of the fireplace.

"In case it has slipped your mind, I am a responsible adult", Snape hissed, but there lay a spark of amusement in his eyes and his lips were curling slightly.

The small, plump woman let out a laugh. "Oh, stop being so hypocritical. You were like that, too."

Severus could not help arching an eyebrow at that commentary. Minerva had been a Quidditch player? Really? How come he had never known?

Fortunately, Pomona seemed to interpret his surprise as an admonition that was supposed to shut her up. "My, my, aren't we touchy today?", she said with what she must consider a sympathetic smile. "Has Goldilocks crossed you yet again?"

"He certainly got me into a fret", Poppy fussed as she stepped through the portrait hole and settled herself into the comfortable-looking armchair next to the couch.

"Why, it's nice seeing you, too", Sprout greeted her with a smirk. "Tea?"

The women had already helped themselves to a steaming cup and some biscuits when Snape reached them and slowly sank into the soft, red sofa next to Pomona. So far, so good. Probably he should just lay low and speak only when addressed directly until they left. Or he might fake an emergency to get out of there?

"Anyways… I was in the hospital wing today-"

"You don't say!", the podgy woman interjected, but Pomfrey just rolled her eyes and continued.

"Well, I was treating McLaggen, who hit himself with a permanent hiccup-spell during lunch, when Goldilocks stormed in; must have gotten high on his magic mushrooms again because he was convinced that he was not only the school's overly qualified and universally adored Defence-Professor, but also the best Healer there is between here and Wonderland." Pomona let out a snicker, and Snape had a hard time restraining himself from laughing, too. "So he pushed me aside to 'have a good look at the promising young man' before inspecting him as if he were Sherlock Holmes –dear Merlin, all he was lacking was a bloody magnifying glass!"

"Who's Sherlock Holmes?", the Herbology Professor asked in confusion. It was Severus who answered absentmindedly, indicating Poppy to continue with her story: "A fictional muggle detective."

The Healer eyed her friends in irritation, but went on nevertheless: "Then, Goldilocks shouted 'Eureka!' –I'm serious! He did actually shout Eureka!– 'I know what is the matter with our dear youngster!' It was only a failed hiccup-spell, for Merlin's sake! By that time, I was fuming, but I tried my very best not to let it on. So Goldilocks, who must have believed me clueless, went on with that smug phiz of his-"

For a second, both women looked at Severus like they were expecting him to protest, but Snape wouldn't even dream of it; watching the always friendly and polite School Matron badmouth Goldilocks was just too good to miss!

"-and said with an air of consequence and his gravest voice: 'Mr McLaggen here is afflicted with a very serious magical malady called obsessio muci syticus colloseum nasum pituitosum or short: OMuSCoNaP'-" Suddenly, Poppy burst out laughing, unable to contain herself. Tears were streaming down her cheeks that had taken on a glowing rosy colour.

Pomona and Severus exchanged a very confused glance. What in Merlin's name had gotten into her? He had never seen the nurse that way before; usually, she was smiling at him benignly. To be honest, he had been caught by surprise by her speaking badly of a member of the Hogwarts staff, but this laughing fit took the biscuit.

"Poppy, dear? Are you alright?", Pomona enquired with concern whereas Severus frowned at Pomfrey who was cackling like a madwoman.

The poor nurse tried to answer several times, but everything that came out was more choked laughter.

When she had finally calmed down enough to speak, she did so with a fake-grave voice and the sternest look she could manage.

"Oh, no, don't get me wrong", she said. "Obsessio muci syticus colloseum nasum pituitosum is a very serious disease alright; that is, if you've got fiery breath and scaly skin!"

"WHAT!?", both Pomona and Severus exclaimed simultaneously.

Whipping a tear from her cheek, Poppy continued, obviously rather pleased with their reactions: "You've heard me. OMuSCoNaP is a dragon disease that does not affect humans in the least. Oh, and it roughly translates to bogey-clogged conk."

Now it was for Sprout and Snape to burst out laughing, and Poppy joined in a short second after. Things just got funnier when Pomona, in a new laughing fit, fell off the sofa and ended up rolling on the floor with laughter, literally. Severus pointed at her cheerfully, and as she grabbed his hand and pulled him down with her, he couldn't even sulk; forgotten was his usual sneering and icy demeanour, forgotten was the pain of being Minerva and keeping up either her or his reputation. For this moment, as he was lying on the floor with her two of her best friends, he was just enjoying himself. And, as he would not remark until much later, it was also the first time he had laughed in such a carefree and happy way ever since he had lost Lily.

It took the three of them about ten whole minutes to calm down again. Only when they all sat up straight, having smoothened their robes and returned to such serious and dignified facial expressions as were appropriate for three women in their sixties or seventies who were supposed to be looked up to by their students, only then did Poppy allow to let another smirk touch her lips.

"Heaven forbid I let that clown near the hospital wing again!"

As previously announced, the next update will be up shortly for I'm almost done with it. I would be delighted to know what you think of the chapter!

tbc...