1981
by Iva1201
Chapter 13: Encounters
Betaed by cardigrl. Thank you!
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Voldemort's Lair
Middle of May, 1981
"My Lord. " Snape hastily knelt in front of the high chair and bowed to the pale man, his Mark still hurting from the unexpectedly vicious Summons.
"Snape. " Voldemort narrowed his eyes, his tonespeaking volumes of his impatience. "Finally! Lucius says you have good news for me."
"Indeed, my Lord," Snape confirmed, eyes still cast down. "A week from now, you will have your spy in Hogwarts. " Severus looked up, a self-satisfied expression on his face.
But Voldemort didn't plan on praisinghim. "Is that so?" the dark wizard hissed instead, looking straight into Snape's eyes and his wand suddenly appearing in his hand. Snape shuddered when the other man abruptly stood and walked towards him. "My Lord?" he asked, attempting to block the fear from his voice.
Voldemort slowly circled around him now, his expression unreadable. Again practically hissing, the dark wizard continued to question the young man beneath him. "So, Snape … you claim to have fulfilled my orders." The wizard paused and scrutinized the younger man. When he failed to find any hint of treachery in the boy's expression,he continuedin a low and slow voice. "If you indeed did so, Snape, then you shall be rewarded just as I promised. But then, did you really manage that much, Severus?" In that instant, the name he carried from his very birth sounded like a threat to the boy and Snape tried not to tremble. Again, he succeeded – but despite that, Voldemort only smiled dangerously and fondly caressed his wand. Snape's breathing halted for a second at the sight. This was most certainly not going as he had hoped...
"One might ask how you could have managed to get what I had sent you for," the Dark Lord suddenly narrowed his eyes and his wand pointed directly at Snape's face, "if the position was apparently already given to another. " Triumph glittered in Voldemort's merciless eyes. "Care to explain, Snape?" The dark man's wand bored into Snape's neck.
Severus swallowed hard against the wand, then gave a slow nod and looked up into the angry face.
"I trust you refer to the Defence Position, My Lord?" he asked warily, knowing that any poorly chosen word might cost him a great deal of pain, if not his very life or sanity.
"Did I send you to obtain any other, Snape?" Voldemort menacingly whispered in reply, his voice icily cold and eyes intently studying his follower.
"No, my Lord," Snape admitted quietly, his eyes now steadily meeting his one time master's cruel gaze. When the young man continued, his speech was even slower and his wording extremely cautious. "Although it was my impression, my Lord," Snape bowed slightly, "that you would appreciate my getting any position that would be close enough to the old man…" Snape's voice died out and he, chin lifted in his stubborn pride, waited for his sentence.
Voldemort, however, didn't flick his wand, but lowered it instead.
"That I certainly would," the dark man replied slowly, voice again dangerously low, and curiously looked Snape up and down. "Do impress me then, Severus!" Voldemort returned to first names and Snape breathed out in relief. This was a good sign.
"Now, Severus," Voldemort interrupted Snape's musing a moment later, his eyes interested despite himself. "What do you offer in place of the Defence Professorship?"
Snape forced a smile to his lips, hating Dumbledore to the bone for making him do this and despising himself even more for his own wrong choices. "Slughorn will leave Hogwarts, my Lord." He bowed, knowing how the Dark Lord detested any notion of the Potions Professor.
"The old fool wanted to save me from the Dark so desperately that he forced a Junior Potions Professorship on me. Now, if Lucius persuades the other Governors," Snape forcefully smirked, "to agree with my appointment as a regular teacher of the subject for the winter term, Slughorn will be gone from Hogwarts by September. Whomever you see fit, my Lord, can apply for the Head of Slytherin post then," Snape finished with a victorious smile.
Voldemort's red slits of eyes gained a positively satisfied look. "I have to admit I am impressed, Severus," the Dark Lord said, nodding to himself as if upon confirmation of a long suspected fact. Then, the older wizard's expression became amused and Snape, for the umpteenth time in the last few days, inwardly cursed Dumbledore as soon as he heard Voldemort's words.
"Junior Potions Professorship, Severus?" Voldemort loudly chuckled, obviously in an excellent mood. "Are you sure such a position even exists?" he teased, the red gaze sparking in a horrifying caricature of Albus Dumbledore.
Snape bit his lips, forceably keeping his humiliation behind the gritted teeth. "The old man says it does, my Lord," he confirmed with clear disgust. Somehow, he doubted that Voldemort would mind his tone and, obviously, he wasn't mistaken as the man's lips twitched again.
"And you are not satisfied to have gained it?" Voldemort inquired, a deeply amused smirk playing on his narrow lips. "My, my, Snape, what would poor, old Dumbledore think if he heard this? … He took great pains to make it possible for you to become a teacher in that prized school of his at all, I am sure. It does not happen everyday that Hogwarts employs an underaged teacher after all, Severus…"
Snape's eyes shot up in surprise and flickered with badly suppressed anger. "My Lord?" the boy managed, clenching his teeth together in an attempt to conceal his disloyalty.
"Oh yes, Severus, I was aware of the restriction," Voldemort nodded, the amused little smile still in its place. "But it didn't really pain you to bring me this confirmation that the old fool is indeed fond of you, did it?" The dark man smirked then, his eyes again thoroughly studying the young man.
"No… It didn't, my Lord," Severus forced out and kissed the deathly white hand that appeared in front of his face.
"Good," Voldemort mumbled, losing interest. He motioned to Severus to stand.
"You are dismissed then." Voldemort waved his hand towards the room's exit. Snape dutifully bowed and turned to walk to the door. He was almost there when Voldemort, already back on his throne-like chair, spoke again.
"Inform the old fool about the raid in Londonderry, Severus," ordered the quiet voice. "The Muggles are quite efficient to do enough damage in the area by themselves anyway. Offer Dumbledore some reasons to really trust you and we may see yet another exception made for you come autumn. Now, go!"
Snape gave a curt nod and left the room. When he Apparated back to Spinner's End and raised the wards behind him, he sighed in relief. Even Dumbledore wouldn't be so reckless as to offer the Head of House position to a Death Eater – former or not… He hoped, anyway.
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Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Entrance Hall
Middle May, 1981
Sibyll Trelawney prided herself on being a rather well balanced witch – for a seer, anyway. And seer she most certainly was, whatever Minerva McGonagall and the majority of Hogwarts staff may have thought and whispered behind her back. Her skill manifested itself quite clearly yet again that very afternoon, and as usual in such moments, Sibyll didn't like her readings.
With some hesitation, Trelawney decided that warning the Headmaster would be in order. As she had been notified earlier that week of a festive Sunday dinner in the Great Hall, the seer resolved to join the faculty for it and approach the old wizard right after the dessert.
As evening came and the bell invited all to dinner, Sybill was therefore uncharacteristically descending the stairs, her multiple shawls wrapped tightly around herself and eyes curiously observing what was claimed to be the real world from behind enormous glasses.
Her latest prediction, however, was to become true even before she reached the Great Hall itself. On the staircase leading from the Infirmary, there appeared Dumbledore accompanied by the school nurse, the two of them embroiled in a friendly talk. Sibyll supposed that this wasn't an unusual sight and didn't wonder about the pair. Then, however, right behind the two, a dark-haired young man clad in black from head to toe stepped out from the side staircase and, probably quite accidentally, looked straight at Trelawney.
The seer knew the bottomless black eyes; she froze on the spot and clutched her hand to the hammering chest. Secret – enemy – death. It felt as if her readings suddenly materialized in front of her – Sibyll recognized the young man from the Hog's Head; she had found the spy.
The witch cried out, her shriek alarming the castle, her hand shooting up to point at the young man. "You, you…You!" Her world narrowed to one single spot as Sibyll neared the small group around the Headmaster, repeating the same litany over and over again, her eyes unnaturally wide. She looked positively mad.
"YOU!" she cried once again, abruptly stopping several stairs below the Headmaster and Poppy Pomfrey, who was, clearly startled with the outburst, now firmly holding the old man's arm.
Unlike Poppy and the young man behind them, Dumbledore understood entirely too well what was happening here, his mind immediately returning to Hogsmeademore than a year past. The ancient wizard berated himself for not being more cautious and approaching Sybill before Snape's arrival – but then, this was only the fifth time the Headmaster had seen the Divination Professor downstairs since she had started to work at Hogwarts – her own arrival included.
Perfectly aware that even Sybill, who otherwise seemed to have renounced the majority of her magical skills, was under certain circumstances capable of a strong outburst of accidental magic, the old man halted Snape's further descent with a single, curt movement of his hand. Dumbledore noted with relief that whatever the younger man may have thought of the sudden command, he followed the order.
His blue eyes never leaving Sibyll's livid face, wand prepared in the sleeve so he could deal swiftly with any emergencies, Dumbledore squeezed the nurse's hand and quietly asked, "Poppy, would you be so kind?"
Madam Pomfrey gave a stony nod. It took her a moment to compose herself; then she stepped forward and said a careful, "Sibyll?" Trelawney didn't appear to hear her and simply continued to stare in Snape's direction. Pomfrey took another step towards her.
"Professor Trelawney?" she attempted again, carefully nearing the witch and then repeating the same procedure until she stood only a step from the seer. When she didn't receive any answer even then, the mediwitch looked at Dumbledore for further instructions.
"Please keep trying, Poppy," the old wizard demanded quietly; his eyes now distracted as he frowned at a scene playing out in the Entrance Hall far below them.
A couple of older Gryffindor students observed Sybill's outburst from there with badly hidden curiosity, clearly sensing the sensation and undoubtedly excited about the prospect of bringing the news to their peers. Seeing they did not even pretend to turn away when he spotted them, Dumbeldore turned to one of the nearby portraits and quietly requested, "Eadulf, inform Professor McGonagall that she is needed here, please."
The white haired wizard nodded and disappeared from his frame. Mere seconds later, Minerva McGonagall appeared in the door to the Great Hall and sternly reprimanded the students, sending them off to their tables. The enthusiastic whispers the group exchanged before they entered the hall, though, made it absolutely clear that nothing less than an Obliviate would keep the boys silent. The Transfiguration Professor shook her head in disappointment, increased as the boys belonged to her House; then she turned and looked upstairs where she knew Eadulf the Short's portrait hanged.
Taking in the scene above her, Minerva's eyes widened and she too climbed up the lower part of the infirmary staircase, her brain trying to find an explanation to the strange scene playing up there. Has Snape already managed to curse Trewlaney? Splendid, here we are, she sighed and braced herself for the worst.
"Sibyll?" Madam Pomfrey tried to get the seer's attention once more right then, only to be cut off by Dumbledore who – eyes once again fixed on Trelawney's face – slowly walked down to the teacher. With a sudden insight, Dumbledoresteppedbetween Sybill and the boy, so that she could no longer see Severus's face, and then took both of her cold hands in his.
"Sibyll," the old wizard repeated Pomfrey's words in a gentle tone – and finally, the charm broke and Trelawney looked at him, her eyes both fearful and angry; the lowered hands trembling. When she spoke, her voice shook.
"It's him, Headmaster. Him."
"Severus Snape is joining the faculty as junior Potions Professor, Sybill," Dumbledore said, his gaze firmly holding hers. If he hoped that Trelawney would be calmed by these words, he was mistaken.
"It's the spy from the Hog's Head, Headmaster!" Sybill spat accusingly, her bespectacled eyes flashing angrily at Dumbeldore's face. "It's him… And you are giving him a job here!"
Suddenly, Sybill's frown deepened as she recalled her card reading. "You don't know what he is capable of, Dumbledore! You don't know how this will end… you don't know what the cards say!" Sibyll saw death and chaos coming to them. From a long distance maybe, but still – and she didn't like the picture.
Dumbledore sighed. He wasn't favourably disposed toward Divination, and if he didn't need to keep Sybill close for her own protection, he would gladly abolish the subject. Card and crystal ball readings were in his opinion not real prophesying, and he refused to concern himself with warnings based on simple fortune telling.
Still, he managed to smile kindly in the Divination Professor's direction. "Sibyll, dear, calm down, please. Nobody is going to hurt anyone here, I assure you," Dumbledore spoke slowly and reassuringly, as if to a small child, and finally was rewarded as the shaking of Trelawney's hands slowly subsided. "Good," he whispered, his warm hands squeezing her still freezing ones. Then his eyes found Minerva behind Sibyll's back. He nodded, and Minerva approached them.
"Sibyll?" Dumbledore tried to get the witch's full attention. When she looked at him, her eyes confused and unhappy, he carefully handed her over to McGonagall. "Professor McGonagall will take you to my office. If you could wait there for me, I shall return there immediately after dinner to discuss the matter." Trelawney gave a reluctant nod and let McGonagall lead her away. Dumbledore turned to Severus. The boy looked positively nauseated.
"Are you all right, Severus?" Dumbledore asked gently, and the boy swallowed and looked back at him, his eyes pained. "I am," he assured, his tone suggesting he didn't wish to further elaborate this statement. When Madam Pomfrey turned to him a fraction of second later, his face was already blank. "I am all right, Madam Pomfrey," he repeated to her, his voice already absolutely calm. With a swirl of black fabric, the young man returned to descending the stairs.
Madam Pomfrey pursued his steps with a worried expression for a moment. When she looked back at Dumbledore, he nodded. It was obvious that Sybill wouldn't be the only one he would have to speak to. "I will speak with him, Poppy," the old man promised and followed the young man downstairs. Madam Pomfrey sighed. Then, shaking her head, she too continued in the Great Hall's direction.
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Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Great Hall
May, 1981
"Look, that's him," one of the Gryffindors who had been in the Entrance Hall said loudly, excitedly pointing at Dumbeldore's young companion.
The whole table turned its eyes towards the door and several of the sixth and seventh years drew in sharp breaths. "That's Snape!" exclaimed a seventh year who used to hang around the Marauders.
"Snape?" somebody wondered aloud and a couple of older students smirked.
"Snivellus," corrected the one who shouted the young Professor's name before. The eyes of his Housemates were immediately trained on him.
"Snivellus?" asked one of the younger students curiously.
The seventh year nodded. "That's it. A Slytherin slump of the worst sort – no matter what they say about him being a Potions and Defence or, well, Dark Arts genius. Even Slughorn said that he had disappointed him…"
"…they said he turned dark, right?"
"…and killed the Prewetts…"
"…he is a Death Eater?"
"…hey, Dumbledore wouldn't employ a Death Eater at Hogwarts…"
"…I wouldn't be so sure – he is a genius but…"
"…but quite crazy at the same time, right?"
"…still, the Ministry would not possibly allow him to appoint a Dark wizard here…"
The Gryffindors had embroiled themselves in such a lively discussion that they almost didn't notice Dumbledore rising to make the awaited announcement. The Headmaster eyed their table and delicately coughed. "May I begin?" he asked kindly and immediately, the Hall grew silent.
"As you surely noticed, Hogwarts, once again, lacks a Defence Professor. It wasn't easy to find one this late in the term – especially as we are in the middle of a war. As some of you are, however, in need of a swift and preferably most expert follow-up for the upcoming exams," the old man smiled with a gentle, slightly mischievous twinkle, "for which I hope you have revised even in the absence of appropriate instructor." He gave another gentle smile, sounding absolutely certain of the opposite. "I am very pleased to introduce to you our new Defence against the Dark Arts Professor…" Applause greeted a short wizard who rose at the end of the Head Table and slightly bowed in all directions, making the Professor's name inaudiable, "who until recently worked as anAuror at the Ministry."
Dumbledore waited until the Hall quieted a bit and then continued, "However, as our most excellent Potions teacher, Professor Horace Slughorn," he beamed in the fat man's direction, "expressed a wish to retire soon, we may welcome another staff addition tonight. Some of you," he glanced atthose Gryffindors who had been so loudearlier, "will remember Professor Severus Snape as a student – one of the best this school has seen in a few decades, I might add." Dumbledore winked at Snape sitting next to him. The boy responded with a scowl, and Dumbledore had to suppress a smile.
"Now," he continued, "I am not unaware of the reasons why Hogwarts usually does not employ teachers below 25 years of age." Here he paused for a moment and again pointedly looked at the Gryffindor table, his features for once - reluctantly - stern. "I trust, nonetheless, that you all understand by now – on some subconscious level perhaps, but still - that the inter-House rivalry has no place where your education is at stake.Severus Snape, despite his young age, belongs among the most talented Potions brewers in Britain and we are very lucky and honoured to be able to welcome him as our junior Potions Professor, with the expectation that he will become out primary teacher in upcoming winter term." Dumbledore smiled and those in the Hall again raised their hands to applaud the newcomer. This time, however, the reaction was much less enthusiastic – especially from the Gryffindor table.
Some time later, when the dinner was over, Dumbledore turned to his new Potions Professor. The young man's face was troubled, and Snape didn't even attempt to raise his Occlumency shields to block the feeling.
"My boy?" Dumbledore inquired gently.
Snape frowned and turned to the old man. "I don't think this is going to work," he said in his characteristically emotionless voice, motioning to the deserted Gryffindor table.
"You underestimate yourself, Severus," Dumbledore calmly contradicted him. "I trust that you will become a most dedicated teacher."
"Do you now?" Snape quirked up an eyebrow, his voice dripping sarcasm. "I would like to hear what leads you to that impression, Headmaster. Somehow, I cannot imagine myself being a good teacher when faced by a bunch of" - empty-headed, he thought - "Gryffindors…"
"Severus!" Dumbledore said in reprimand, and then smiled. "I shall only repeat what I said to our students before - the inter-House rivalry has no place here and now." The ancient wizard rose with a sigh, his joints aching after the long day. As he left, he patted Snape's shoulder. "Good night, my boy. I am sure you will surprise even yourself. I most certainly did in my case," the old man smiled fondly at the memory and, happily humming, left the room.
Snape shook his head. He would teach the prats – but nobody could expect him to like them. Not Gryffindors, anyway.
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Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Horace Slughorn's office, Dungeons
Middle of May, 1981
"Severus Snape. " Slughorn nodded at the young man who stood in front of his office. "Come in." He let the young man pass and closed the door behind them.
Slughorn took a seat and motioned Snape to that opposite him. For a while, the Professor simply scrutinized the younger brewer; then he quietly said, "So, Hogwarts after all, Severus? I was under the impression that you found yourself amore pretigiousjob." His voice was icy. "Frankly, I don't think teaching children would suit you, Severus."
Snape didn't answer for a while. "I enjoyed the tutorials," he said then, calmly.
Slughorn nodded. "I am well aware of that. But then, Miss Evans certainly contributed to your success, didn't she?" She was the patient one there, Severus, not you. Just in time, he stopped himself from saying that aloud. What purpose would it serve? He wondered suddenly. Dumbledore wanted the boy close and would have his way no matter what.
Snape looked at him with a quiet resignation onhis face, not answering verbally. The boy seemed like he hadn't much choice himself, and Horace finally decided to keep silent. He wanted to leave the school as soon as possible after all, didn't he? The Professor stood and turned to his shelves, taking out the syllabi. Wordlessly, he laid them in front of the boy and then turned to his private laboratory, leaving the boy to himself.
When he returned with another stack of papers, Snape had his nose buried in the second year's lesson plans. He looked up at Slughorn in disgust.
"My boy?" Horace couldn't help but ask, his voice honey sweet.
Snape frowned but said nothing. Slughorn peered over his shoulder and curtain of black hair. Babbling beverage, he saw and smiled. "Do you think it inappropriate, my boy? I seem to recall that your brew was excellent that day..."
Snape's shoulders slumped. Yes, he remembered it now as well - he kept grinning at Lily that whole lesson, the two of them exchanging ideas on whose Pumpkin juice they should lace with the Potion...
He nodded. "I can see certain benefits inteaching this particular potion to that particular age group," he admitted through gritted teeth.
Slughorn nodded back. "Excellent, Severus," he said and laid his papers on the volume. "This is what St. Mungo's and the Ministry asked us for. I would really appreciate if you would dedicate yourself to brewing the potions underlined in red in the nearest future."
Severus ran his eyes over the prolonged lists of potions. Some were fairly easy, although time-consuming – ideal for keeping the students busy; others quite complicated, reserved originally most likely for Slughorn – and now marked for him. He understood well the need of healing draughts and strengthening remedies, even the disorienting brews required by the Ministry. But what the hell was the Babbling Beverage doing on the bottom of the Ministry list? Merlin forbid he would make that one! Snape scowled at the paper. Slughorn clearly anticipated this turn of events as he again smiled and said, "I see you have found the latest Ministry request. I hope that you can brew it with the same enthusiasm you showed back in your second year."
With that, he pulled an expensive Muggle pen out of his pocket and added a red line below the Babbling Beverage's order. Then, he handed the young man the last few papers. "Here are the lesson plans for the next weeks. This week, you shall sit in the classes with me; from the next week on, you will take over the third, fourth and sixth years. Finish the syllabi by then!" With that he walked over to the door and opened it to the young man. "Good bye, Severus," he said coldly.
Snape stood, the books floating behind him, reminding him of another occasion when he had been given similar instruction. But, thankfully, Slughorn wasn't the Dark Lord, however unfriendly he treated Severus these days. "Professor," he said in his accustomed emotionless voice and left the room.
I will manage, Snape decided as he descended to the dungeons. But as soon as Slughorn is away, the Babbling draught will be crossed from the curriculum. The boy's lips thinned in a dreamy smile, Snape not even realizing he had resolved to teach in the next year as well…
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