Chapter Thirteen:
Severus sat at his desk, idly twirling a quill between his fingers. The Ravenclaw and Slytherin Fifth years were his last class of the day and, in a fit of self-indulgence, he had assigned them a theoretical lesson.
Now all he had to do was sit and watch them until the lesson ended. He had finished lecturing them over half an hour ago and had assigned them to read two chapters in their set text for the rest of the class time. As they were one of his more studious classes, Severus revelled in the complete silence which was punctuated only by the occasional turning of a page.
He had woken up that morning with the full expectation of having to face ridicule at every turn. After all, whoever had heard of anything more ridiculous than the greasy git of a Potions teacher making such an exhibition of himself? During his school days, Black and Potter would have made damn sure that he wouldn't have been able to get any peace for weeks.
It was sufficient to say that he had been more than shocked when he had observed his reception amongst the students after the singing debacle. Though his fellow staff members had hid smirks behind their teacups, the students' reaction had been rather different.
Instead of the mocking and ridicule and barely controlled classes he had expected, he experienced silence, diligent work and awestruck glances. It had all been very unnerving.
In fact, during his midmorning break, he had passed a corridor from which he had heard Stebbings telling his friends that, 'Professor Snape is actually quite cool. Just look at what he did to the Minister!' Now, these words were from the lips of a boy who could have been Neville Longbottom reincarnated – only this time with attitude.
The whole scene had only further disturbed Severus and consequently he had caught himself wondering how many people would notice if he barricaded himself in his chambers until no one even remembered the incident anymore.
Unfortunately, this was a stupid question to ask oneself and Severus knew it. Aside from the absurdity of the idea, indulging in such an activity would completely ruin his already tattered reputation! Professor Snape, the scourge of the dungeons, would be expected to swoop about and make extremely nasty comments that were often strong enough to strip varnish off of wood, not hide inside his own closet like some green Firstie! And the former was exactly what Severus planned to do.
He had discovered twelve minutes into his first class, much to his own frustration, that snarling at staring students only made them stare all the more.
Instead, he had resigned himself to being stared at and whispered about every time he walked down the corridor or ended a class. It was enough to make him almost feel sorry for Harry Potter. Though, if Severus was completely honest with himself, he already felt vaguely sorry for Harry Potter.
The boy had more than enough to deal with and he still had to put up with being gawped at. This new experience had just brought Severus' feelings into a sharper perspective. It was making it damned hard for him to keep telling himself that he hated the boy!
Unnerved at the strange behaviour of the student population and displaced from his position as 'most hated Professor', Severus had decided to wait for the trouble to die down a bit before he sorted out his own feelings on the matter and decided how to take revenge on whoever had humiliated him.
Severus closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, considering the matter. Whoever had taken his spoon had also been linked with the singing incident and he was very displeased that he had not yet managed to work out who had taken and hidden his spoon. (And whoever was torturing him in this matter would be on the receiving end of a very slow and painful demise, of that he was sure).
It was clearly not a random act of mischief designed to wind him up; it was practically open warfare! It also meant that getting his spoon back any time soon was not a likely possibility.
It was a conspiracy!
The facts, as they were, were this: his spoon was missing and whoever had taken it had later used it as bait to lure him into the singing fiasco. It was not Minerva or Albus, as he was sure they would not have done something like that to him; it was not their style. It was not Potter; the boy did not know how to perform Occlumency and it was very easy to glean the truth from the surface of Potter's thoughts; he had not taken the spoon. This, most likely, excluded his two side-kicks – especially as there had been nothing suspicious in their minds either.
Unfortunately, Severus had not got much further than this in his train of thought, and if there was one thing he truly hated, it was not knowing all the facts, or being able to use his logic to deduce them. Everyone else aside from the troublesome trio had varying motives and aggravatingly every one of them were valid. He couldn't very well cast Legilimens on the whole school! He also couldn't ask Albus or Minerva for help because, quite honestly, they were in the middle of a war and there were more important things than spoons out there.
The problem was that Severus had really liked that spoon!
Severus felt his lower lip protruding slightly and hastily sucked it back in. After all, Severus Snape never pouted.
The bell rang and he surged to his feet, grateful that classes were finally over for the day. "Class dismissed!" he snapped, and watched as the Ravenclaws and Slytherins shuffled out to a low chorus of, "Thank you, Professor." They were one of the only classes that actually thanked him for his teaching, and Severus actually favoured them all because of that – even the Ravenclaws. Praise would work wonders for a person's disposition. Sometimes he wondered why the other classes hadn't figured out yet that he mostly treated them like they treated him.
After quick check of the classroom proved that it was tidy enough to be left overnight, Severus locked the door behind him on his way out. He couldn't have the little devils filching from the students' store now, could he?
If they wanted an ingredient, they would have to ask him for it and be prepared to tell him the reason why they wanted it. Unlike a certain someone who had taken Boomslang skin from him in only her second year at Hogwarts.
A bewildered smirk came over his face as his thoughts turned towards the illustrious Miss Granger. She really had changed dramatically over the years; growing from a timid First Year into the confident young woman who could share personal jokes with the most unapproachable member of the staff. Nobody shared personal jokes with Severus!
He knew he should be more concerned about how she had managed to sense his mood – after all, an emotional spy is a dead spy – but he found himself more interested by the manner in which she had achieved this...
He had been quite annoyed with Minerva when she had dumped the Head of House Hogsmeade rosters onto his desk and asked him in a distracted way for him to distribute them. If she had been able to hand out all the others to the rest of the staff, why couldn't she have given the last two to their appropriate owners? But, of course, his complaints had fallen on deaf ears – more like non-existent ears for she had certainly left the room fast enough – and Severus had been stuck with handing the timetables over to Pomona and Filius.
His irritation, combined with his unease about the way the students were treating him had put him in a rather miserable mood. This was only made worse by the First Years, which Pomona had been teaching, staring up at him in undisguised astonishment and curiosity. He had felt like he was being examined through a magical magnifier and had escaped the greenhouse as quickly as possible.
Severus had then swiftly proceeded to the Charms classroom and was shocked by the loud racket which could be heard clearly from the corridor once he arrives. Steeling himself, he had knocked loudly and listened in confusion as there was immediate silence followed by a jovial, "Come in!" from Filius. Severus' headache had worsened when he entered the classroom and had seen a quiet and studious class with their heads bent diligently over their work.
Dunstan's Fourth Principle indeed! As if Filius' class hadn't been an unorganised ruckus just a second before!
Tired and totally certain that he wanted nothing more than to go back to his chambers and sleep until his next class, Severus had gone over his business there quickly and had turned to go. Keeping his sneer firmly in place, he had prowled down the aisle, convinced that his façade would protect him. Only when he reached the back of the room did he realise that this was Potter's class – for there, next to the Boy Wonder himself, sat Hermione Granger.
He was currently quite convinced that she was one of the few people he actually liked, for there, in that classroom, she had looked straight into his eyes and smiled at him. And then, most astonishingly of all, she had taken a piece of her new hair and flicked it at him as if to remind him of that rather disastrous detention. At her own personal expense, she had reminded him of how much amusement he had experienced that day – he couldn't remember the last time he had laughed at all, let alone to that extent.
Maybe I should invite her along to participate in some of Potions research for the war effort – after all, she would be a very useful asset.
Realising he had reached the staff room, he cut off all further musings on Hermione Granger – the Headmaster did not simply call surprise staff meetings for no reason – and opened the door.
One of the disadvantages of living in the dungeons was the fact that it always took so long to get to anywhere else in the castle. Of course, a rather large advantage was that it took a long time for the rest of the castle to get to the dungeons, which, in Severus' opinion, outweighed all of the drawbacks. As the situation stood, only Sinistra, Trelawney and Albus were missing from the room.
Severus stalked over to his favourite chair by the fireplace and lowered himself into it, being sure to give his snickering colleagues the evil eye. Satisfied the chortling was soon at tolerable levels, Severus settled back to wait.
It did not take long for Trelawney to drift in, looking like she had been spending all her free time since Severus had last seen her indulging in the finest quality marijuana. She floated over to him.
"Severus, I have foreseen–"
"You'll have foreseen a very painful and rather embarrassing destiny upon yourself if you remain any longer at the wrong end of my wand!" he snapped before she could get any further. She gave an affronted sniff and wandered off. Severus resisted the urge to preen. Still haven't lost my touch, I see.
Sinistra had crept in a short while after Trelawney, looking as though she was trying her damndest to avoid the Divination Professor. Now, as she caught sight of Severus, she hastened over to the chair beside him. He stiffened, cursing himself for having celebrated his victory too soon.
"Severus." She nodded her head, her fly-away blonde hair stuck out every which way as she flopped into the chair beside him. "I've had the most God-awful day. Apparently, now that you're the latest craze, I have gained your old position as Most Hated Professor. Add to that the fact I've worked a full day already and have to stay up most of the night pointing out stars that have always been there and will always be there to clueless youngsters, I've just set myself up for something even worse than God-awful day." She took a sip from a small flask at her hip containing something potent, finally allowing Severus to get a word in edgeways.
"And you are telling me this drivel for what precise reason?" he asked snidely, one elegant eyebrow arched in question.
Sinistra levelled a keen look at him. "You wouldn't hesitate to tell me to sod off and shut up."
"You're right; sod off and stop pestering me with this foolish claptrap!"
She laughed and settled herself deeper into the armchair. "Nice try, Severus. I suppose I haven't been completely honest with you; you're also the only person who can get rid of the old Hag from the North." She nodded towards Trelawney and handed him the flask.
Severus had to prevent a snort as he took it from her.
"Try some. You look like you've had a pretty dreadful day too."
Severus took the flask and gave it a sharp sniff, mentally cataloguing all the anti-poisons he had in his stores, before throwing caution to the wind and downing a mouthful. It was only his very strong willpower that prevented him from coughing and spluttering like a Third Year the first time that he was introduced to whiskey.
That had happened to Severus too.
"Bloody hell, Aurora! What the blazes is in this blasted stuff?"
She took the flask back off him. "Trust me, you don't want to know. So, tell me, what happened to you to make you look like someone's stolen your favourite spoon… oops, my mistake!"
She smirked cheerfully at him while he glared at her.
They had a peculiar relationship. Most of the time they couldn't stand each other; their temperaments were far too alike. But sometimes, there were those rare occasions when each really seemed to understand the other, and they could talk for hours without getting bored. Severus was vastly relieved that this was one of the latter days. He was far too worn out for sniping. Instead, he spent the next few minutes leading up to four o'clock grumbling about his day and listening to her grumble about hers. There was something very therapeutic about moaning with someone.
"…And the Summoning Charm doesn't even work on it! Watch! Accio Severus' spoon!" Nothing happened. "See? The devils responsible have put some kind of spell on it to prevent it returning to me by magical means!"
Aurora nodded sagely. "Savages. Why didn't you try that when you first lost it?"
Severus shot her a withering look. "A Summoning Charm requires focus, Aurora! If there was one thing I was not that day, it was focused! Incensed, exasperated, infuriated; yes. Focused, no. The more likely outcome of that would have been me being pelted with every spoon in the Great Hall save my own! Excuse me if I already think I've been humiliated enough recently. No, I shall have to wait for the perpetrators to make the next move."
Aurora's eyes were suspiciously wide. "A conspiracy about a spoon! Goodness, that's exciting. Who'd have thought it?"
Severus glanced over at her, puzzled, but a second later saw the mirth dancing in her eyes. "Do not mock me, woman!" he snarled at her, waving a long, stained finger at her nose.
"Why, Severus, I wouldn't dare!" She threw back her head and laughed. "It's been great talking to you. I feel almost ready to be able to tackle the night-shift." She nudged his arm. "The spoon will turn up, of that I'm sure."
Just then, Minerva stood up and clapped her hands for everyone's attention. "It's almost four o'clock; if everyone would take their seats, please. I'm sure the Headmaster will be arriving shortly."
Aurora nudged Severus' arm again as they stood. "She makes you feel just like a student again, doesn't she?"
Severus smirked. "Tell me about it." He paused. "However, the fact that she has just started knitting has rather spoiled the image."
He settled down at the large, oval table with Minerva on one side and Aurora on his other. Praying for the meeting to be over soon – so that he could go back to his quarters and possibly read the latest Potions periodical – he leaned back in his chair and tuned out the rest of the staff room chatter. Aurora seemed to have had the same idea as him, only her idea of deflecting attention away from herself was to put her head on the table and pretend to be asleep. Severus rolled his eyes. The woman has no style!
Finally, after what seemed like an age, the door opened and Albus Dumbledore walked in. Severus straightened and nudged Aurora. She growled and swatted at him before reluctantly sitting up, waiting for the Headmaster to speak.
"If I could have all of your attention, please. Thank you. I have an important announcement to make." Albus peered around at his silent staff.
"A decision has been made. A decision that will change Hogwarts' entire future…" the Headmaster trailed off, gauging the impact his words were having on everyone.
"For Merlin's sake, Albus, just spit it out," Severus snapped, spoiling the moment.
The Headmaster took the hint. "The Minister has decided it prudent to break all ties with Hogwarts; we are now an independent institution, with only me in charge of all the major decisions for the school. Some of you may remember that the Board of Governors is just another branch of the Ministry, and from now on they will have nothing to do with us either. We are now responsible for our own curriculum, security and paperwork, so do please get your student reports in by next Friday..."
The staff stared in astonishment at Dumbledore as he continued to speak. Flitwick was so shocked by the news he fell off his magically altered chair. Trelawney, who was about to pour herself a cup of tea, missed the teacup entirely and splattered herbal tea over the floral printed napery. Minerva accidently dropped her knitting directly in the path of the spreading liquid.
"Headmaster, are you sure?" she whispered faintly, her hands still held as though she were about to pearl another stitch.
"Yes, indeed, the Minister has already signed all the appropriate paperwork," Albus confirmed, and then, after a short pause, "Sybil, dear, the tablecloth isn't thirsty."
Trelawney let out a muffled squeak and set down the teapot just as Minerva came to her senses, grabbed Filius by the seat of his pants and popped him back onto his seat.
Well, Severus thought, swallowing. It's not every day you're partially responsible for the end of an era. The only question is, what now?