Chapter 14: Professor Snape

~Two Years Later~

The doors to the Great Hall opened on September first, 1979, by Professor McGonagall. Following here were a twitchy group of first years ready to be sorted. The sorting began and ended without a hint of concentration from Severus.

Dumbledore stood. "Before we eat, I regret to announce that Professor Slughorn has retired. But never fear, we have a new Potion's Master for our students. An old student of the school and a good friend of mine, Professor Severus Snape." Severus stood and smirked at the students. Though he hid it well, he felt restless and unsure how well he'd be able to handle the role of a teacher. A few of the older students who remembered him from a few years prior as students looked shocked. The newer students applauded cheerfully. Granted, it made the anxiety a little more bearable.

Severus sat back down and the feast began. "Looks like you'll be a popular one, Severus," Finneus Flitwick said, nudging Severus' arm. "The younger teachers tend to have an easier time relating to the students."

"I hope that's true," Severus said. "I thought I'd be looking forward to this, but I'm not so sure anymore."

"Come now, Severus," Professor Pennywart (the Defense Teacher of the last ten years without a lick of trouble), "You'll do fine. The students seem to like you already."

"Not the older ones."

"They probably remember you still. It's not that great an age difference between yourself and them. They'll see you as a teacher sooner or later. After all, Slughorn was an able potions master. You've been doing better than he."

"Thank you, sir, but that doesn't help much."

"What about your wife? How is she doing lately?"

"She hasn't been feeling well," Severus admitted. "She'll be back on her feet soon enough though, once Samara's born. At least that's what Poppy promised."

"Nothing to fear, my boy," Dumbledore said, "Rolanda and Samara will be fine. After all, having a baby will bring some changes, I'm sure. Severus narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore.

"I'm hearing enough so-called consolation from Lily, Headmaster. I swear, I don't need any more."

"And yet you're smiling. Remember to keep that winning attitude for the classes tomorrow, maybe it will calm your nerves if the students feel that they can trust you."

"I'm starting with the seventh years," Severus snapped, "It's already going to be hell."

"Only if you think it will be."

Severus rolled his eyes and excused himself to check on Rolanda in the Hospital Wing.

Times haven't always been kind. Sure, they've managed since the marriage, but other forces have been cruel from time to time. If not for Dumbledore and the teachers, Severus is sure that it'd have been worse off for them.

Severus entered the Hospital Wing, approaching a bed where Rolanda slept. For the last week, there had been difficulties. Poppy informed them that it might be necessary for Rolanda to be sent to St. Mungo's if her condition worsened.

Rolanda stirred and glanced at him through sleepy eyes. "How'd the sorting go?"

"Well enough. How are you feeling?"

"Alright, I suppose," she said, attempting to sit up. Severus eased her back down. "I keep having these dreams."

"What kind of dreams?"

"A wolf or a dog of some sort standing beside a little girl with yellow eyes and black hair. What do you make of it?"

Severus shook his head. "It's just a dream, Landa. Nothing else."

"Maybe so, but what if it's a premonition?"

"Rolanda, you're not a seer. It can't be anything else but a dream."

"Fine, don't believe me. Perhaps I'm just silly believing what Trelawney said about pregnant women sometimes having visions of their children's future."

"It is a bit farfetched," Severus said. "After all, what would a dog have anything to do with our baby girl?" Severus stroked Rolanda's stomach, feeling a soft kick within. Somewhere in the castle, the clock struck nine.

"Get some sleep yourself," Rolanda suggested. "And good luck tomorrow."

Severus kissed her. "I'll visit tomorrow, let you know how I failed."

"You won't."

Severus left the room and descended to his and Rolanda's compartment down in the dungeons where the Potion's classroom was located.

"Mr. Weston," Severus said after his first class. "Is this a common problem?"

"Fraid so, Professor," the student whimpered.

"How did you manage to get this far in potions if you keep melting your cauldron?"

The twitchy Hufflepuff winced. "Well, Professor Slughorn usually helped me."

"Weston, I'm not going to babysit you when you're working on a potion. You're a seventh year. You should know how to avoid melting your cauldron by now. Partner with someone who can help you succeed in my class if you must, but I don't want to see any more cauldron explosions."

"Yes sir."

"Go to lunch."

The student couldn't have walked faster out of the room without running. Severus rubbed his neck and glared at the mess from earlier. Really, shouldn't the seventh years be a bit more cautious than this?

Severus waved his wand at the melted pewter cauldron, restoring it to its original form and glanced at the contents within in.

The potion was supposed to be clear as water. It was moss green. How the bloody hell did that boy manage to get this far? Severus asked himself. With a wave of his wand, the thing that was supposed to be vetiserum disappeared.

Severus went to the Great Hall and sat down. He filled his cup with water and sipped it.

"Was your first class as well as you expected it to be?" Minerva asked.

"Joseph Weston is as inept at potions as he is at whatever else he does," he said. "Perhaps you know how he made it into advanced potions?"

"He gets good enough marks, and Horace liked the boy enough."

"Liking a student isn't a good enough reason to let him into the class," Severus said.

"You're right, but Horace was…"

"I know. I knew people in his slug club. Lily was in the slug club, for Merlin's sake," Severus picked at his salad. "But I don't want my students to think they'll get the same special treatment from me that they received from Horace."

"Well, they'll learn not to expect it," Minerva assured him. "Sometimes teachers need to toughen up on their students. If it gets worst, have Weston take remedial potions."

"I don't know if I'd be able to survive giving him remedial potions…" Severus moaned.

"Well, you better learn to be tolerant," Minerva snapped. "You're going to be a father in a short time!"

"I know." Severus pushed his plate away. "Hopefully, the first years will be a little more manageable." Those near him snickered. "What?"

"First years are not manageable until a month later. Especially the ones from Slytherin. Don't worry, they'll shape up. And they are obedient, they just don't know what to expect from the teachers."

"The whole school is going to learn to get used to you, Severus, not just the first years. Of course, come the end of the year, you might be one of the best teachers the school's had in ages."

"Is that Dumbledore talking or Horace?"

"It's me," Minerva assured him. "You were one of the best students we've had here at Hogwarts, I've no doubt you'll make a good teacher. Horace may have chosen the students for your higher level classes this year, but next year, it's all yours to decide."

Severus leaned back in his chair.

"If it helps, it's only the first day of school. Give it a little more time."

"Fine," Severus said. He stood and returned to the dungeons to prepare for the first year class. After all, how bad can it be? They won't be making potions until they know the basics and that won't be for a couple of weeks.

The students entered the room. Notably smaller and twitchier than the seventh years, the first years took their seats. Severus waved his wand at the board.

"For the next five years," he began, "you'll learn how to create basic potions. But don't think that potions is as easy as anything else you may learn. One mistake can be fatal for either you or whoever you give the potion to. Which is why I cannot and will not tolerate failure in this class."

The students shivered, staring at him with wide, fear-filled eyes. "This isn't Charms or Transfiguration. You won't need your wands. If you succeed, you can learn to save lives and perhaps more." He glanced around the room. "How many of you come from muggle homes?"

A few raised their hands.

Severus smirked. "Think of this class as chemistry or science. If you were good at those classes, then you'll succeed here. But for now, I don't expect you to be ready for brewing. If you're not already taking notes, I suggest you do so now."

Severus watched the students pull out their parchment and quills. Some of the students opted for their muggle utensils of pens and muggle notebooks. Once the flurry of shuffling and bumping finished, all pairs of eyes were on Severus again.

At the end of the period, Severus allowed them to put their things away.

"And a word of advice," he shouted above the moving crowd, "if you're using pen and muggle paper, I highly suggest you get some parchment and learn to use a quill. You'll need them for essay writing. This school is not what you're used to."

"Yes, Professor," the students echoed before filing out.

Who said that the first years were unmanageable?

Severus checked the clock, counting down until the fourth years would arrive.