The Mental Mentorship
A perfect end to a perfect evening…well, maybe not so perfect…
Chapter 21: After Hours at The Three Broomsticks
When Lockhart's ball ended at midnight, the teachers had all agreed to meet up at The Three Broomsticks for a drink and to unwind. Promising a Lockhart-free environment, no one hesitated to go. Dumbledore, however, declined and decided to turn in early. He did ask me to come to his office tomorrow because he desired a word with me. Snape, who also attempted to decline, was gently bullied by McGonagall into making a rare appearance.
I left the ball and finally walked off the Hogwarts grounds so I could apparate to the pub. I had had my fill of the Potions Master for one evening. I wanted to get there first to get a table and to ensure my chair was nowhere near his.
Trudging down the alley in Hogsmeade, the candlelit Three Broomsticks was visible from several yards away. When I entered the pub, most of the teachers were there already, including the fate worse than death, I mean, my co-worker, Professor Snape.
I spotted a seat between Hagrid and Flitwick. He always managed to save a seat for me, and I planted myself there. I was also unwilling to walk for a few rounds to make it very clear that the chair was my territory and that I would guard it like a dragon with their eggs. The chair happened to be a few seats away from Snape.
"Well, er, that was quite some fete," said Minerva.
"Yeh, the students looked like they were having a gran'time," said Hagrid smiling.
"The Weird Sisters were brilliant," I said, offering a smile until I got a withering glare from Snape.
"Yes," said Minerva, "I think Professor Dumbledore is rather partial to them."
Hagrid had ordered firewhiskey and butterbeers for our table. Flitwick quietly drank his gillywater with a paper umbrella. Soon everyone was chatting and laughing. Snape, I noticed, was sitting on a stool with his arms folded over his chest. He was brooding, which was not unusual.
Most of our party was in high spirits. We rejoiced in the fact that we had made it through the night and would probably not see Gilderoy Lockhart again for a very long time.
I forgot that it was a weekend and the pub usually hired musicians for the evening. Flitwick and Hagrid carried their drinks over to the bar to be closer to the music and to have a chat with Rosmerta. I only pleaded with Merlin from where I sat that Sprout and McGonagall would keep talking. Otherwise it was just me and Snape avoiding each other's eyes as nonchalantly as we could muster. We had excelled in continuing our silent cold war/stand off (or we hoped so). I had no intention of giving in after his nonsense this evening. Bloody moron…and no tact, I might add.
From the corner of my eye, I glanced over at Snape and from the looks of it he had had a terrible evening. I wasn't sure if it was due to our incessant rows or just Lockhart's intolerable presence. I tended to think it was both.
While avoiding Snape and remaining quiet, I thought about some of the things he had said to me this evening. I truly hope he doesn't think I fancy him. What was the "stop throwing yourself at me" and the rubbish that he couldn't "return my ardor?" Was he mad? Well, yes…yes, he was.
He wished.
I wouldn't give him a second thought or look.
So, why was I?
Severus Snape was in a very bad mood.
What was the matter with me? That pitiful shrew or Scylla as he liked to call her…he wasn't sure if he was angry with her or having been subjected to the abomination of the wizarding world that was Lockhart and his blasted tribute TO HIMSELF. What had Lockhart ever done without a catch?
The miserable hag…
He took a sip of firewhiskey. Dumbledore had spoken with him today and told him that Vector had succeeded with flying colors. Her apprenticeship was nearing its end as well as Snape's mentorship. Dumbledore would call her into his office tomorrow and inform her. She was on her way to becoming a full time tenured arithmancy professor and the other professor was making his retirement plans and preparations to hand his position over to Vector.
He should be relieved. He would have a little more extra time to himself. However, this is why he didn't enjoy going out or not being busy. It gave him time to think about himself…
Which he didn't like.
What would he do with his time? He asked himself but he had no answer.
The voice was fleeting and he instantly pushed the internal thoughts that were surfacing out of his mind. He took another sip of firewhiskey and couldn't wait for this bloody evening to end.
…going to the little girl's room? Vector needs to be more sensible with her remarks, more prudent with her time…
Snape had to admit that maybe his time could be a little fuller…he was making himself even angrier.
No matter. It was common knowledge that she was dim-witted. Carrying on with the likes of Lockhart was proof enough…
When I returned from the loo, I decided to strike up a conversation with Sprout and McGonagall.
Snape was glaring at me. I proceeded anyway…
"I rather enjoyed the Herbology lesson the other day, Professor Sprout," I said casually.
"I'm glad. The mandrakes are nearly matured and I will invite you in to show you the proper preparation during the last stages before reaching maturity," said Sprout happily.
"Yes, I am interested. They are awfully charming. Those noisy buggers are a handful but really cute," I said with a smile.
Snape, of course, had to publicly embarrass me and throw his comments out there for the record yet again.
He gave me a look that stopped me in my tracks and responded snidely, "…those "cute" things, Vector, helped to revive students during a crisis when the Chamber of Secrets was opened.'
I didn't remember anyone addressing him.
Why could someone not chuck him into the Chamber? I wondered.
"How informative, Professor Snape," I sniffed primly, trying to steady my oncoming outburst," well, if you will excuse me…"
Sprout and McGonagall had stared at each other and said nothing.
Snape's mouth was taut but his black eyes snapped at me.