This was an idea that I had one day that I wanted to explore. It won't be a long fic, probably only like five chapters. This is year five for Harry Potter, but as a point of future/past reference (time-travel fic), the premise is that the Golden Trio didn't make it out of Malfoy Manor in year seven before Voldemort arrived. The war stretched on for years before ending, with unacceptable losses...everyone who died in the canon story and more. This is told from the perspective of Severus Snape with no pairings.
Warnings: I think we're good. I don't know of any. This is a darker fic, but nothing graphic.
Disclaimer: I definitely do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters.
Severus Snape was a pessimist. He knew he was a pessimist. He didn't think he was over-reacting one bit to say that he feared this would be a horrible year, probably one of the worst of his adult life. The Dark Lord had returned at the end of the last school year, and he had already made Severus's life painful, dangerous, and miserable since then. The newest nail in the coffin of this school year though was the pink-clad toad-woman sitting at the head of the staff table at the beginning of the year staff meeting. She had already interrupted the headmaster six times and had made it very clear that she answered only to the Minister of Magic and no one else.
Snape was a very observant person as well. You had to be to stay alive as a spy to a murderous psychopath. The ministry woman…Umbridge, was evil from the tip of her pink bow to the souls of her kitten heels. She was also boring, and that was probably her largest offense in his opinion. Everything about her screamed exactly who she was, her beliefs, and her twisted nature. He didn't need to study her for more than two minutes to know exactly how she would respond to any situation…with bigotry and hate.
As the horrid woman droned on about ministry policies and pruning things, Severus turned his attention to the only interesting person in the entire staff room. Granted, Flitwick and Dumbledore both were pretty interesting studies of character, and McGonagall kept him on his toes, but he had known them for years, decades some of them. They were old news. No, the other new professor, now he was interesting.
At some point over the summer, Binns had finally decided that teaching was boring, or he had finished his unfinished business, or whatever and moved on, to no one's sadness. After longer than anyone's (except maybe Dumbledore's) memory, Hogwarts finally had a new History of Magic professor. When Dumbledore had told Severus a couple weeks before, he immediately expected an old, wizened wizard with patched robes and horn-rimmed spectacles who read all day and had no people skills. Well…he wasn't sure about the people skills, but this professor was the exact opposite of all his other assumptions.
The man had entered the staff room last, with an air of self-assurance that even Severus didn't possess. The potions master was going to roll his eyes at the arrogance and disregard his new colleague until he saw him talk to Dumbledore. He looked on confused at how the man carried himself like a soldier, one who was ready for anything. He hadn't seen someone so alert and prepared for danger since perhaps Mad-Eye Moody in his prime. This was evidenced when Trelawney, of course, knocked her teacup off the table with a careless elbow and the man caught it before it hit the floor, not even stopping to blink in his conversation with the headmaster.
When Dumbledore started the meeting, the new professor strode over and lowered himself with the grace of a cat into the chair beside Severus. He turned and gave Snape a little nod of greeting. Returning the nod, Severus added another mystery to his list. The man's eyes were green and large, he would say that they were like Potter's except for the lack of glasses and the fact they were completely lifeless. This man had dead eyes, like he had seen Hell and still carried it with him. Anyone who carried himself like a soldier and had such eyes was not someone to be trifled with.
The man was dressed in black robes, similar to those Severus wore, but these robes were almost new and well-tailored. He was of a slightly shorter than average height and obviously well-built with muscles that spoke of hard work or a hard life. What stood out most about the man was a long scar on his face that stretched from his hairline, over his eye, to mid-way down his right cheek. It could only have been done with either a knife, or a cutting curse that the man had to have been extremely lucky to have survived. Age was the hardest to pinpoint in the new professor. From a distance, Snape would guess early to mid-twenties, but up close his battle-weary demeanor spoke more to at least thirties. His eyes spoke to one older than Dumbledore.
After introducing the evil, pink woman, Dumbledore had introduced the new history professor as a Professor Fred Dobbins who was obviously British but who had studied at Durmstrang. "Pleased to meet you all," was the stranger's gruff reply in a strangely raspy voice, and his only comment so far in the meeting.
Out of the corner of his eye, Severus continued to study the new man instead of listening to the insufferable woman. Dobbins seemed to find her just as infuriating as he did, judging by the twitch at the corner of his eye occasionally, no other emotion was visible on the stoic face. Severus did note a slight tremor in the man's hands though. If he were to make an educated guess, a tremor like that in a man like the one he was observing was most likely born through surviving more Cruciatus Curses than anyone should ever have to endure. Noting this, he looked more intently at the man's temples. This man must have seen a lot…too much. He searched for the tale-tell small blue veins that became visible, to anyone trained with a potions mastery, and indicated an addiction to Dreamless Sleep. Pursing his lips, he noted very distinctly the blue lines just under the skin clearly. It seemed this new professor was an addict. Well…he was not going to be providing any potions for the man. If he asked, he would learn that very quickly. Severus briefly wondered if Dumbledore or Pomfrey knew before deciding he really didn't care.
"And we will eradicate these rumors of the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Umbridge continued. At this, Dobbins snorted. "Something to add Mr…Dobbins was it?" Umbridge asked in a sickeningly sweet tone.
"Professor Dobbins," he corrected with a sneer. The man ran his hand through his dark, very close-cropped hair as if he expected more of it to be there. "Anyone with any sense knows Voldemort has returned. Burying your head in the sand won't change that fact. It's better to be prepared than caught without a plan of action."
Severus winced at the pain in his Mark when Dobbins used the Dark Lord's name but managed to only let the slightest reaction show on his face. Well, at least the new professor seemed to not be a Death Eater, small mercies after fake-Moody from the year before. The toad-woman scoffed. "Really!" She said indignantly. "Dumbledore, I would hope you could keep your instructors better in line and from spreading vicious lies!"
The man shrugged like he could not care less about anything Umbridge thought. "The headmaster does not have the legal power or right to restrict what can and cannot be said, neither does the ministry unless it falls under slander laws, which they never do seem to uphold. Regardless, I'm here to teach History of Magic, not law, so that's all I plan on doing."
"Well said, my boy!" Dumbledore twinkled at the man. Severus saw that same twitch around the man's eye that had been there when Umbridge spoke reappear at Dumbledore's regular term of endearment. Apparently, the man was less a fan than even Snape at being called that.
As if he wasn't even paying attention, Dobbins waved a hand over his cold tea and wandlessly and wordlessly cast a warming charm, so it was steaming once more. Dumbledore and Snape both raised an eyebrow, but the man just picked up the cup and took a sip, obviously not planning to speak again for the rest of the meeting. Glancing at the headmaster, they shared a look. It seemed like this year was going to be interesting. It might be horrible, but at least Severus was glad he wouldn't be bored.
It didn't take more than a few weeks into the semester for the students to all firmly decide what they thought of the new professors and their classes. Severus was always well-informed about the rumors around the castle. His information came from his Slytherins sometimes, but mostly from the fact that he could walk through the corridors without making a sound. It was amazing what students would talk about out in the open where anyone could hear. Anyway, Umbridge was evil and stupid and her class was less than pointless. It seemed she didn't even bother to teach, instead having students read in her class…what they should have been doing for homework. The book wasn't even remotely informative. At least, that's what all the students were saying.
Dobbins, on the other hand, was apparently moving into the favorite professor spot for a large portion of the students. He seemed to have no house favoritism, coming from Durmstrang, and treated everyone fairly, if a touch strict. Overwhelmingly, the students thought he made history actually interesting and fun. Many of the students who had not planned to go for a NEWT in history were now considering it with the new professor. The most surprising rumor, however, was that it seemed Professor Dobbins hated Harry Potter even more than Professor Snape on a bad day.
Shocked by the new rumor, Severus checked the professor's book that tracked all student detentions. Sure enough, after a couple detentions with Umbridge at the beginning of the semester, Potter had a detention scheduled with Professor Dobbins almost every single night. While Severus definitely didn't like the arrogant brat, a detention every night seemed excessive. What in Merlin's name could the boy have done to Dobbins? The hardened man used the Dark Lord's name enough to not be a Death Eater, and seemed to believe the boy's story about his return, so why the hatred?
This question led Severus to start his patrol duties one night close to the history professor's office. He waited in an alcove for no more than a couple minutes before Professor Dobbins's door opened and Gryffindor's Golden Boy walked out of his detention. Instead of looking cowed or chastised, the bloody boy had a smile on his face. "Thanks Professor! Have a good evening," he called behind him back into the office before heading towards Gryffindor Tower.
Interesting, Severus remarked to himself. It was possible the new professor didn't hate the boy as much as it seemed at first glance if Potter seemed to actually like his detentions. Well, Severus did find a detention every night concerning, but enjoyable detentions, now that was just sacrilegious! He'd have to keep an even closer eye on this new professor. It wouldn't do to have him spoil the arrogant brat more.
Snape checked the professor's book obsessively to see which of his Slytherins had detentions and with who. He also found himself tracking Potter and his detentions with Dobbins. It seemed that Umbridge got to him first though for a detention in late-October. If he were the suspicious type, which he definitely was, he would think Dobbins was trying to keep Potter away from Umbridge. Well, she was repulsive, but giving the brat detention every night seemed a bit over-kill.
The mystery is what had Severus waiting in an alcove again, but this time in the corridor outside the defense professor's office. When he finally exited, past curfew to Snape's ire, Potter definitely didn't look happy this time. In fact, he looked downright sick. Confused and curious, Snape followed the boy from a distance as he slowly walked down the corridor into the next, holding his hand oddly in front of him.
"I'm sorry Harry. I was just too slow this time," Snape heard someone whisper in a raspy voice around the corner. He glanced around the wall before remaining hidden, one eye keeping tabs on the pair. Of course, it was Dobbins who had met up with the boy.
"It's ok, Professor," Potter smiled gratefully as Dobbins took his hand. "You said you probably wouldn't be able to stop her every time. We had a pretty good run. I think I've broken every rule at least three times according to you."
Dobbins made a sound of derision or anger or both as he pulled a jar of something out of his pocket and started liberally applying it to Potter's hand. "Yes, I think I've even made up a few rules. Still, I understand what you're going, and I don't like it or approve of it."
"I know," the boy smiled cheekily at his professor. "I guess I do have some self-preservation instincts. Hermione will be glad to hear of it."
Dobbins gave a dry sort of laugh before replacing the lid and handing the jar to Potter. "Remember to put that on in the morning too."
"Yes, sir!" Potter gave a fake salute and skipped off as Dobbins playfully smacked him on the back of the head.
Even more confused than before he saw the interaction, Snape headed back to his chambers and to a restful night marking essays. Try as he might, Severus couldn't figure out exactly what was going on, and it was driving him crazy. After two glasses of wine and three classes of essays, he decided that he might just have to stop watching the new professor and actually talk to the man. He shuddered, small talk, ergh!
The next day, Severus kept one eye on the interactions between Dobbins and Potter, or to be more precise, the lack of interaction. Dobbins didn't seem to acknowledge that Potter even existed besides giving the boy detention for talking too loudly in the hallway. Even to Snape's trained eye, he would never have guessed the man could care for the boy enough to be the same man that met Potter in the corridor the night before. Potter, on the other hand, wasn't as much of a brick wall as Dobbins. Oh he tried to keep any emotion from his face around Dobbins, but Severus could see him glance up to the head table at breakfast occasionally when he believed no one to be looking. It was obvious those glances were towards Dobbins. And there was an almost grateful glint in Potter's eye when Dobbins had given him detention. Something was definitely going on, and Snape was just the spy to find it out.
Passing a smiling Potter leaving the history office that very night, Snape sneered at the boy and continued on to knock at the door. "Enter," a low-raspy voice called out.
"Dobbins," Snape nodded to the man as he entered.
"Ah, Snape. Can I help you with something?" Dobbins was standing behind his desk at a small but efficient potions set-up. There were two potions currently brewing and Snape could tell from the smell and color that one was Essence of Murtlap and the other was undeniably Dreamless Sleep.
Snape set the vial of Dreamless Sleep he brought with him on the desk as he took a seat in the chair in front of it. "I come bearing gifts and to ask how you are settling in."
Dobbins looked at him very suspiciously as if this was the last thing he expected from the Potions Professor. "I am well, thank you for asking," Dobbins responded slowly as he picked up the potion and inspected it before putting it in a drawer. "And thank you for the gift as well."
"I don't suppose Dumbledore or Poppy know of your…problem, do they?" Snape asked with a pointed nod towards the Dreamless Sleep cauldron, which looked perfectly brewed if he had to admit it.
Dobbins shrugged uncaringly. "You seem to have figured it out. I'm sure Pomfrey could if she wanted. Dumbledore…well I doubt he would care, but I don't plan on outright telling him anyway. It's my business and doesn't affect my teaching in any way."
"It's inadvisable to be as dependent as you seem to be on a particular potion," Snape advised, hoping to steer the conversation to Potter and Umbridge very soon.
The younger man nodded before stirring the Essence of Murtlap cauldron the correct amount of times before letting it simmer once more. "Actually, it was the advice of my healer," Dobbins admitted. "Weighing a potions dependency against never sleeping again seemed to push her in favor of the dependency. I'm sure I can go off the potion if needed, but I'll probably die eventually from being unable to sleep afterwards."
At that admission, Snape's eyes grew large in shock. What could have happened to cause that effect on a history professor? "You seem very capable with potions," he ended up remarking instead, for some reason Dobbins seems to find that statement humorous. "May I ask what the murtlap is for?"
Dobbins crossed his arms over his chest and sat on the end of his desk closest to Severus, pinning the man with a stern look. "How about you ask me what you really want to instead? The reason why you came to my office…?"
Severus didn't know what it was about this man that caused him to squirm like a child under that searching glare. The History Professor affected him more than even Dumbledore or the Dark Lord with just a look. Finally, he decided to go for the truth. "You're giving Potter detentions to keep him from getting them with Umbridge."
There wasn't a question in the remark, so Dobbins just inclined his head in assent but remained silent. "Why?" Snape finally added in frustration when the man didn't elaborate.
Dobbins stood at that and motioned to the large cauldron of Essence of Murtlap. "She uses a blood quill in her detentions," he explained. "The murtlap is for when I can't divert a student's detention to someone else. So far, she's only used it on Harry, but I've been pushing any student's head of house to ask to have their detentions moved to them just in case she starts in on others."
Severus gasped in shock and anger. "That vile toad!" He exclaimed. "How dare she?!"
Dobbins gave him a tight smile of approval at his outrage. "Wait, I'm the Slytherin head of house. What about my students?" Severus asked in indignation.
Dobbins rolled his eyes. "I've seen you checking the book. You know none of your students have been given a detention with the woman yet," he reminded.
Severus had forgotten that for a minute. Yes, none of them had been given detentions with her. "Why is that do you think?" He finally asked.
Dobbins waved a hand as if to say who knows? "Maybe she was a Slytherin herself. My guess is that their parents are too well connected though. If anyone told their parents she was using a blood quill, they'd storm the school in outrage. That's why she gets away with using it on Harry, and also why it's even more despicable, torturing an orphan who has no one to turn to."
Snape thought for a minute. Something was wrong with that statement. "But, Potter, he does have relatives. The ones he lives with. They might not be well connected, but they could still cause a ruckus."
Dobbins outright laughed at this though there was no humor in it. "Yeah, right, those abusive bastards. They'd probably thank her and give her advice for how to make it worse."
At this Snape deflated. Potter must to have lied to the man. He had to be wrong. That went against everything he knew to be true about the arrogant, self-centered, brat. Dobbins just continued like he hadn't just shaken the foundations of Severus's belief system though. "Well, that and with all the bad press he's getting right now, no one would believe a word he said."
Dobbins scooped out a spoonful of the murtlap potion and pulled up his trouser leg, exposing a bandage over a long gash which he applied the potion to. After giving it a minute and the gash starting to close, Dobbins smiled. "Looks like this batch turned out pretty good," he said, lowering his trouser leg and taking the cauldron off the flame.
"What happened to you?" Severus inquired with a raised eyebrow at the nonchalance the man displayed at a fairly deep cut that he had to have been nursing at least all day.
Dobbins turned those dead eyes on Snape and smiled at him viciously. "You should see the other guy," was all he said in response.
Snape glared at the blatant deflection of the question. "Yes, History is commonly believed to be a very dangerous subject to teach," Snape responded with as much sarcasm as he could muster.
Dobbins just smiled and sat back on the corner of the desk. "I hear the guy before me died."
"About thirty years ago…of old age," Snape raised his eyebrow, nonverbally asking if the man was serious.
Before either of them could respond, the Dark Mark flared in a wave of heat and pain on Snape's arm. The Dark Lord was calling. Snape suppressed a hiss but had to grab his arm to put pressure on the Mark as pain coursed through him. To his horror, Dobbins had grabbed onto his left arm right where a Dark Mark must be at the same time, but he just frowned, and his features tightened with the wave of pain. "You," Snape half accused half questioned.
"Best hurry. Don't want to be late," Dobbins smiled at him as he turned back to the Dreamless Sleep potion to give it a stir.
Confused, Snape stared at him, knowing he really did need to hurry. "You're not coming?"
Dobbins snorted. "Please, I do not come when called," he said cryptically before settling back into stirring. "I'm well stocked on pain potions if you need to stop by later," he added as Snape strode from the room with more questions than when he entered.