Not mine. I'm almost finished, just one chapter to go after this one.


7.

Pomona was a quiet, motherly witch, always in good humour, patient and dependable. So naturally, no one reacted at first when she made a beeline for Professor Paddington, who was just entering the conference room. She swung her fist and hit Professor Paddington right in the nose. Severus was impressed. Some of the other staff were even more then impressed, they almost clapped in appreciation of the view.

"Pomona!" cried both Albus and Minerva in shock. Albus took Pomona's hand when she tried to give another swing.

"If you ever dare to set foot again in my greenhouses, I'll get the Devil's Snare to kill you and make it look like an accident!" Pomona screamed.

Professor Paddington's skin took on a pale green hue while she tried futilely to stop her nose from bleeding.
Albus tried to calm down his Herbology Professor all the while keeping himself in between the two women.

"I've never seen Pomona this angry," Rolanda murmured to Severus, "Then again, I've never seen you hugging students."

Severus scowled darkly and turned away.

It took a while but Albus managed to restore some peace in the conference room. It didn't help that none of his senior staff made any effort to hide their derision for the failed exercise.

Albus cleared his throat. "Let's revise the instalment of the fire alarms again, shall we? I'm quiet certain we can keep the greenhouses safe without the alarms in question."

Clearly Albus was not planning on giving up on this disastrous idea. Most of the staff was looking quite somber and Minerva and Pomona wore identical looks of outrage on their faces. Ursula Paddington, after having the bleeding stopped and her nose healed by Poppy, was trying to give the whole ordeal a positive view. The exercise had done it's job, after all: all staff and students had left the castle in a timely manner. Severus settled back somberly and studied his fellow Heads of House. Judging the expressions on their faces, they would need a solution to this situation sooner rather than later. Before an irreversible accident happened.

oOo

Four weeks before the end of term, the cold war that had sprung up after the greenhouse-debacle, had resolved itself in a precarious armistice. There was a clear battle line drawn between Paddington and the Headmaster on the one side and the four Heads of House on the other. The rest of the staff were playing the Swiss card and kept themselves to a clear policy of non-interference. While the temperature outside the castle dropped only just below zero, the one reigning inside the staffroom and halls could be described as glacial.

The students were clearly affected by the mood of the staff and pranked Professor Paddington without remorse. While the behaviour of the adults exuded cold politeness, the students were clearly in favour of a more bloody approach. Paddingtons lessons now resembled actual battlefields, where the intractability of teenaged students clobbered the enthusiasm of a young educator into the ground with great success. Professor Paddington was looking more and more exhausted, but, except for the Headmaster, none of the staff showed a grain of sympathy. Even Poppy, normally quite helpful and motherly, demonstrated a bedside manner more associated with Severus than the matronly witch, when Professor Paddington needed medical assistance after pranks gone wrong.

After yet another fire drill, this time in the middle of dinner, had ended without World War III breaking out, Severus installed himself in his office with a stack of essays to grade. He had just started on the first one, coating it liberally with scathing remarks in red ink, when his office door flew open and the other Heads of House trooped in. Severus took a look at their set faces and sighed, bracing himself for what was coming.

"Take a seat," he offered hopefully. Instead, they positioned themselves in a semicircle around his desk, like a tribunal in front of a criminal. It would have been more imposing, had Filius been able to tower over the desk instead of just peeping over the rim.

"We need to stop this. The tension in the halls is thick enough to cut with a knife." Minerva opened the can of worms. She says we but means me, Severus thought sourly.

"The students' nerves are shot. None of them are performing in class the way they should." Filius added.

"My nerves are shot," Pomona added. "And her classes are complete chaos. She has no discipline and none of the students actually manage to learn anything. Except for transfiguring Wellington boots."

The three looked expectantly at Severus.

"Why do you believe I can do anything about it? You all heard the headmaster: The fire drills stay." Severus said almost plaintively.
Minerva snorted.

"You're Slytherin, Severus, you'll concoct some sneaky way to discredit those drills and not even the headmaster will suspect foul play. Please, Severus." Filius said with conviction.

Severus scowled at them.

"Get her fired, Severus, please," Minerva added.

"I'll grow some of those special coffee beans you like so much." Pomona promised hopeful.

All three looked at him expectantly, like a bunch of puppies.

Severus huffed in annoyance. Pomona had him there, he'd murder for those coffee beans.

"Fine," he said. "I'll try to find a way to get her out."