Hello! Hopefully someone still remembers this story, even though... yes, It has been a long, long time since I last posted anything. I remember that some reviewers worried that maybe this story is going to follow the canon too closely. I can only say, that I flirt with the canon as much as possible, but the focus of this story is completely elsewhere. Everything in the canon is told from one character´s point of view. What Harry Potter actually knew and what he only thought he knew, hmm? I plan to fill the holes in a way that paints a very different picture. My story has different main characters and plot line. One Harry Potter is merely a side note (if we ever even get to there). So I would not be too worried.

There is going to be more action in the following chapters, when I get to them, but I had to start from somewhere. (I will also later return back to, what actually was going on in Hogwarts right after the incident.) But now, Slytherins shall have their breakfast and talk about a certain Gryffindor lady...

-EveryJohn

Weeks passed slowly. Severus still did well in class, but that was now something everyone had began to expect of him. Outside the classrooms he avoided everyone as much as possible. This was not exactly new but the amount of effort he had to put into it had peaked after the Imperio-on-Manticore -incident. Every time he entered to a student-filled hallway or the Great Hall stretched necks and curious eyes greeted him. The staring and whispers had not alarmed him immediately. He had concluded that certain amount of buzz, no matter how annoying, was inevitable. He had assured himself that the rumors would die soon. Instead, the weird behavior around him, however, just seemed to take new bizarre turns as time passed. For example, two unfamiliar kids had just yesterday asked his help with homework (This had never ever occurred in the six previous years!). He had not filtered his barbed tongue when telling them to use their own, blasted, eyes and read what was clearly written in their school books. Curiously, the kids, though thoroughly frightened, had not seemed mortified at all. Severus even got an impression that they were proud of themselves for talking to him. (And those students had been Slytherins for Merlin´s sake!) Another peculiarity was that students from other houses, who had last talked to him when asking him to bring over the gillyweed sprouts in a first year herbology lesson (or something similar), had started to suddenly greet him. Heather Wince from Ravenclaw had gone so far that she had asked him to pair up for a mock duel in DADA (He had wiped the floor with the girl, but also given some pointers. And the true Ravenclaw, thirsty for knowledge, had thanked him!). This sudden attitude swift made Severus unsure of how to react. His usual way of handling such situations (which practically meant just being his own, insufferable self) had made sure that further practice of social interactions had been pretty much unnecessary.

It was the morning before the annual Hallowe'en Feast at Hogwarts. Severus had been nibbing from a small platter of scrambled eggs and bread. He had settled on sitting next to Mulciber and Avery, because the only other free seats at the Slytherin table were among giggling, second-year girls (the girls had waved him to come over, when he had made a mistake of hesitating for a second...). He was only half-listening, when Mulciber began his usual taunting (most of his concentration was still in the new potion he had been inventing on his spare time).

"What did you do to get into McGonagall's good grades, Snivellus? The old cat is practically mewing in heat. 'Mr. Snape just demonstrated perfect animal to object transformation', 'Ten points to Slytherin for Mr. Snape.', 'Mr. Snape explained brilliantly the most important thesis of the subject. You should all write it down", Mulciber jested, doing horrible cat-like imitation of Professor McGonagall's voice.

Severus mentally rolled his eyes. This again. Mulciber´s behavior had been almost delightful contrast to the other attention he had been getting. But still. Repeatedly trying to get on his wrong side since the unfortunate Care of Magical Creatures -lesson was starting to be really annoying. Lucky for Severus, Travers and Avery were not very enthusiastic about Mulciber´s sudden vendetta and without their help, more often than not Severus managed to either slip away or drag the robust boy into a verbal sparring match in which Mulciber didn´t really stand a chance against him.

Severus put away the food, which he had found quite unappealing anyways. He rose his eyebrows in mock confusion and turned to Avery, who was sitting opposite to him. "Avery, I have been lead to believe that you have your way with the women...", he addressed the Slytherin. Avery was devouring a plateful of greasy bacon. Some of it were still halfway to his mouth, when he glanced up. Severus leaned forward, contemplating aloud: "I´d like to hear your opinion, Charles... There is this young man, who has, supposedly, caught the interest of intelligent older lady and another one who is painfully jealous of the first one. Which one, seems to you, is more pathetic?"

Avery´s mouth formed a slow grin, when he realized the mockery directed at Mulciber. He was Slytherin enough to keep his mouth stuffed with food and avoid answering, but Mulciber noticed his friend´s twinge of amusement, which in itself already meant a score for Severus. Mulciber was slowly boiling and Severus decided to add heat. "Oh my, I assure you don´t need to worry. I am not interested in professor McGonagall in such a way." Severus wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Your chances with such an intelligent lady are practically the same as barbegazi´s in a nest of Hungarian Horntails´s, Mulciber, but Merlin forbid if I am to be an obstacle to your advances", he claimed, hand on his heart.

Mulciber blinked a few times. "YOU ARE A DISGUSTING LITTLE SLUG, SNIVELLIUS! Who in seven hells would fancy an ancient hag like McGonagall whose tits must hang near her navel!" he bellowed outraged by the suggestion. Jumped up from his seat, he was already dragging his wand out, when someone cleared their throat behind of him.

"Mr. Alaric Mulciber. Never in my life have I ever heard anyone describe myself with words such as yours", Professor McGonagall´s laconic voice stated. The air in the hall chilled. Everyone quieted except some snickering Gryffindors. Mulciber had paled white as a sheet. He kept opening and closing his mouth. His wand-arm had dropped limply to his side.

"Mr. Mulciber, you have just earned yourself time with this ancient hag for every Saturday till Christmas. Your detention takes place at 11 a.m. at my office. I will also write a letter to your father about this as Lord Mulciber undoubtedly wants to be aware of the language which the heir of his esteemed house uses to describe his professors."

At that point, Mulciber seemed to officially renounce all hope. He closed his eyes, looking slightly green.

"And Mr. Snape..." Professor McGonagall called sharply after Severus, who had been about to slip away taking advantage of the distraction. "Don´t you think a moment that I didn´t notice how you goaded him to it!"

Severus stopped, thin smirk on his lips. "You must admit, Professor McGonagall, that he fell in the trap spectacularly and without my aid. Taking advantage of others faults is the Slytherin way. You can hardly blame me for honoring my house?" he reasoned.

McGonagall pursed her lips disapprovingly. "Be as it may", she finally seethed, "but you better perform as immaculately in your next lessons as the last ones, Mr. Snape, or I will be seriously tempted to reduce housepoints."

Severus nodded almost solemnly. "Such a pleasure... to hear a Gryffindor, who honestly admits her desire to abuse power", he jested in low voice that Deputy Headmistress barely heard.

The youngster was sly enough to disappear before she had time to punish him for his insolence.

Professor McGonagall scoffed and shook her head in exasperation. She turned to the students, who had followed the exchange with fascinated silence. "Go on with your eating. This show is over", she grumbled and showed example by returning to her seat at the table for the professors in front of the Great Hall. (If some students, whose seats were nearest, were to be believed, the following short exchange began with McGongall´s all-suffering groan: "Things have to be bad when I feel I need fire-whiskey before breakfast." Sprout had patted her shoulder comfortingly and promised quietly: "At the evening, Minerva. At the evening...")