CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE—Jealousy
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Severus absolutely did not believe one of his third-years had first found a reference on unicorns Severus hadn't read and that said reference claimed that unicorn penises would cure both depression and 'the weird wheezing laugh your old auntie gets over the hols.' So Severus marched to the library to find this supposed 'reference.'
The audacity of children surprised him every year. He really should expect it by now. The way they twisted words and bent the original meaning to fit their haphazard theses.
But Severus would give them the slightest benefit of the doubt if it was an earnest attempt—if Severus had only spot-checked each essay, he would never have noticed the outrageous claim.
If he couldn't find the book at all, he'd give not only a failing grade but a detention involving either manure with Pomona or maintenance duty with Filch.
Severus first checked the rolls—Clarence Little was, in fact, listed as an author. The book? Tall Tales and Long Tails: The Facts and Myths about Your Favorite Creatures.
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. He could guess which category the radical new unicorn penis cure would fall under between those two.
He fetched the book and found a table quickly. He didn't want anyone to see him with this nonsense. So of course another teacher would find him as soon as he turned to the unicorn section.
Alecto rapped her knuckles on the table. She stood across from him.
He looked up at her and she smiled. "Run out of your own books? I daresay I thought it impossible."
"Fact-checking a Hufflepuff's unicorn essay," he explained.
Alecto flattened her palms against the table to lean closer. She read, "Everson Ralph," aloud. "He's been giving Amycus trouble as well."
The cleavage trick did not work on him. But it confirmed his suspicions that she was interested in him.
He kept his eyes on her face.
She bit her bottom lip as if deliberating. Then she said, "Could I ask a favour of you?"
"Possibly."
Her heels clicked across the floor as she came closer. She scooted a chair up next to him to sit.
"I need a book."
"And the library is not fulfilling your needs?"
Her eyebrow quirked at that. "There are only thirteen of these books in the world, and Narcissa said she purchased one for you."
"I know the one," he replied. "Who do you plan on poisoning?"
"A witch has her secrets, Severus." Her hand slithered onto his thigh. "Could I come pick it up from you tonight?"
"I'll bring it by later." He returned to the book.
Alecto removed her hand.
"Thank you, Severus."
She departed.
Severus found the part Ralph had mistaken for fact.
Hermione waited in the common room, at the bottom of the stairs, for Ron and Harry. They both liked to run up their bags before dinner. Everyone else filed out of the common room.
It was very unlike them to dawdle before dinner. She almost went up there, but she heard them coming.
"It's not right—we should've said something," she heard Ron say.
"Like what?" Harry snapped back.
"He's her husband, he shouldn't be—doin' stuff like that!"
"Oh, yes, let's tell him off so that everyone knows!" Harry hissed before they rounded the bottom of the stairs.
Hermione put her hands on her hips. The boys straightened up on the last step.
"What aren't you telling me?" she demanded.
Harry looked at Ron. Ron rubbed the side of his nose.
Finally, Ron cleared his throat. "We—may have seen—something."
"What kind of something?"
"Just get it over with," Harry said. He took a cautious step back.
"What?" Now she was worried.
Ron let out a long exhale. "Alecto Carrow was—making moves on Snape."
Hermione's brain halted to a stop. She blinked. "That's—that's it?"
Ron also stepped back. "Yeah."
Hermione put her hand over her heart. "You two had me worried something awful had happened!"
"But—you two are married," Ron said.
"You aren't upset? At all?" Harry wanted to confirm.
"We are married in the barest sense." She held up her hand. "He's not interested in me at all."
The two were torn between being offended on her behalf and relieved.
The relief won out.
"We thought it was at least thirty-seventy that you would be upset," Harry explained.
Ron slumped as if he was boneless. "We were worried we'd have to—give him a talking to!"
Hermione's face turned red. "That will never, ever have to happen—ever."
She poked each of them in the chest, first Ron, then Harry. "I can handle my own marriage, thank you very much. And I don't care if that absolute harpy hits on—whoever!"
"I can't even imagine Snape liking anyone, let alone someone liking him like that," Harry said. "It's freakin' me out."
Ron shuddered and waved his hands. "Great, now I gotta think about that!"
Hermione followed behind them as they traipsed to the Great Hall.
She did not look at Severus when they entered.
She did scowl at Alecto. Oh, to rub it in that horrible woman's face, that Muggle-born Hermione had something Alecto wanted!
In the course of her musings on just how she'd like to tell Alecto to find someone else, Hermione noticed Amycus scowling at said husband.
What a dolt, she thought. He could scowl all he wanted, Severus was still the scariest wizard here.
Severus was reviled enough without the schoolchildren seeing him carrying around a hefty text on poisons. If any of them knew what it was off the bat, he'd be surprised, but the little bastards watched his every move since Horace's passing. So he returned to his quarters to fetch the book, and carried it all the way up to the fourth floor.
Alecto had just locked her office door when he arrived.
She saw the book. The cheer with which she received it was at odds with the books intended purpose of inflicting an agonizing death-by-poison.
"Thank you, Severus!" She held the book carefully.
The slightest change in her voice—and how she touched his arm—changed her tone to sultry. "Let me know what I can do to repay you."
"Bring it back when you're done with it."
People didn't often touch him. Minerva to nudge him when someone scored a goal over Slytherin, or Albus with an unwanted pat on the back or hand. (And, lately, Hermione's cold feet on his leg in the middle of the night.) Alecto had done it twice in one day. If he told her to bugger off, that would put a strain on the…partnership the Dark Lord had assigned to them.
She wasn't unattractive. The way her hair was pulled back reminded him too much of Minerva. But he absolutely did not want any connection with Amycus Carrow.
She removed her hand. The door to her personal quarters clicked open. "Thank you again," she said.
Her eyes roved over him as she disappeared into her sitting room.
Severus felt the eyes of someone else on the back of his neck. He did not need the children spreading rumours.
But it was only Amycus.
He blocked Severus's path, at the end of the corridor.
As Severus approached, he growled, "You got designs on my sister, Snape?"
"No." He was already bored of this conversation.
"Why, somethin' wrong with my sister?"
Severus asked, "What is the right answer here, yes or no?" Bloody maddening, he thought.
"You think you're better than us?" Amycus challenged, stepping into Severus's personal space.
"You? Without a doubt."
"I'm a teacher here, same as you. And that drives you mad, don't it?"
"You work here," Severus clarified. "Do you honestly believe you've taught anyone anything?"
Amycus barked out a laugh before he backed away. "You're all twisted up that I've taken your dream job. Sorry, Snape—our lord gave it to me."
It was Severus's turn to invade space. "How much longer," he began, "do you think you'll have this job?"
"You threatenin' me?"
"No. I am merely advising you don't get comfortable."
Severus walked past Amycus and stopped just behind him. "Dumbledore won't be the headmaster forever."
Arsehole, Severus thought. He wouldn't fire the dolt without the Dark Lord's permission—but that tricky little curse meant Amycus wouldn't be around for too much longer, anyway.
Perhaps Severus had misinterpreted the signs, but he knew two things for certain: The Dark Lord would not be able to kill Potter until he got Albus out of the way; and of the three Death Eaters presently employed at Hogwarts, Imperius or no, no one would approve any of those three except Severus to be the next headmaster.
He did not necessarily want to be the headmaster—that was a job you were stuck with for life. Then he remembered he wasn't going to live much longer anyway, so, might as well give it a go. Not only would be the youngest headmaster in two centuries, he'd have the shortest tenure.
Severus tried to shake off the foul mood Amycus put him in. For some reason, his brain told him Hermione would love to be married to a headmaster, as if that might improve his disposition.
Imagining the intense pride on her face at least put Amycus's lumpy visage from his mind.