It was, generally, the Malfoy brat's fault. Had Draco Malfoy used half of his wits, he would not have had to reprimand the boy in front of the whole Slytherin & Gryffindor combined class. And had he not done so, said class would certainly have not given him undivided attention...
Both Gryffindors and Slytherins stared at professor Snape in disbelief, though for different reasons. Rare sniggers and shocked gasps died away, and they just stared - and listened. Sound waves are vibrations of the air, after all, and there was something in the air that day...
He even liked it, first. No side talks. No silly whispers behind his back. No distractions, for Merlin's sake, only wide open eyes gleaming with an occasional spark of intellect. The students seemed to actually hear and understand his instructions, and even to follow them. Even those students whom he would not suspect capable of such feat.
Perhaps he should mark this special day.
Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley have suddenly discovered in today's classwork something more attractive than an animated Quidditch talk. Pansy Parkinson and Hermione Granger were making notes with somewhat dreamy expression on their faces. Hermione forgot to monitor Neville Longbottom's progress, and Neville, surprisingly, was doing just fine on his own. Crabbe and Goyle followed Draco Malfoy's example, and Draco indulged himself in listening & staring because, well, everybody else was doing it.
He began to worry, ever so slightly, when the dreamy bliss has spread across every single face in the classroom, save for his own. That was unnerving. Against all rationality, it ruined his concentration. They watched him as though he has done - or was about to do - something overly exciting, which was clearly not the case. Not if all his students have discovered the subtle yet captivating beauty of potion brewing in last ten minutes, which would be too great a miracle to ask for.
Severus Snape was not unaccustomed to abnormal things happening during his lessons. Cauldrons, for example, contrary to common belief, did melt. And a whole shelf in one of his locked closets contained samples of amazing stuff his students had accidentally mixed up, carefully preserved for detailed study. Accidents could be turned into valuable lessons, only first they had to be sorted out. As soon as possible.
He put on a scowl and went to examine this day's work, generously pointing out the ways to improve - there always are - and taking points to keep the balance. His remarks were diligently written down not only by the students advised, but by the whole class, again. Damn.
He assigned homework and then, inspired, doubled it. And that did not work. They scribbled it all down, and then those disturbing, waiting eyes stared at him again. Oh well... Severus Snape was a resourceful wizard, he ought to be. He announced a test without setting an exact date. That used to stir up some emotion. Well, practically always.
He tried to keep an eye on the class, at the same time avoiding direct contact with that group stare. Not feeling like it, but sneering anyway, he took twenty points from Gryffindor. Harry bloody Potter regarded him with the same intense calm. He regrouped and took twenty points from Slytherin. It could not hurt - at least not much more - to experiment now. Like good laboratory subjects everywhere, the students showed no reaction aside from occasional nod or approving blink.
He felt the first visceral stir of panic. They were not making anything serious today, were they? He made up a quick inventory. No, no component of today's study could possibly cause hallucinations or suchlike... And he saw to it that the students seldom had any spare time for going unduly inventive. And yet here they were... He risked a glance at his... audience. Here they were, right.
Quietly but desperately Severus Snape swore. And immediately a discovery has been made. Even hushed, his voice carried perfectly clear to the farthest corners of the room. At a table in the back row Letitia Bolde of the Slytherin seemed to faint happily. The others kept aggressively listening.
Severus cleared his throat to probably yell something, but thought better of it. He turned to the board and wrote, all over it, "CLASS DISMISSED". He tapped the writing with his wand to make it glow suggestively. There was no way the class could miss the message, yet they did nothing about it. Confusion tinted their sharp glassy eyes, but the children did not move.
Mind racing, he stepped backwards to the reassuring classroom door and swung it open. Would it be too much to ask for some sentient creature to be there?
Peeves leered at him.
Apparently, it would. Then again, today discoveries awaited not only Severus Snape. The poltergeist, for example, has found out that there were things worse than Bloody Baron. The Potions master in an uncertain frame of mind, for one...
...An hour and a half later young Gryffindors and Slytherins joined their schoolmates in the Great Hall for a meal. All but Miss Bolde, who had to stay in the hospital wing, just in case. There were empty chairs at the staff table, too, although any possible comments quickly withered under Professor McGonagall's decidedly severe gaze.
In his study in a tower high above the Hall Albus Dumbledore poured brandy into a cup of his famous tea. His eyes twinkled as he glanced up at Severus Snape being decidedly uncomfortable in an inviting chair. The Potions master looked pale, drained and somewhat harassed.
"There, there, Severus. Do not be so upset. It was a coincidence. A remarkable one, I should say, but not more than that."
Snape relaxed a fraction. The tea promised wonders to his exhausted senses.
"Although," the headmaster smiled, "I'd be careful with the Voice next time."
Severus could choke on his tea, but that was really unnecessary and a waste of perfectly good beverage. So, for the moment, he went, Bugger that.
~
fin '-)