Disclaimer: Snape not mine, as much as I would like it... teehee. Anyway,
don't sue me. Flames will be used to roast marshmallows!
Prologue
The rainy day outside was beginning to effect the students. As they sat around the potions classroom, half of them looked wearily out the window, longing for a spot of sunshine in the eternally grey sky. Severus Snape was beginning to notice this as he lectured, and decided who his next victim would be.
"Longbottom," he let out in a deadly whisper, "could you please tell me what is so interesting about the window this morning?"
Neville Longbottom snapped to Snape's gaze and began shivering with fear.
"J-j-just looking, s-s-sir." He stuttered.
Snape strode close to Neville, who was now pretty close to whimpering.
"Perhaps," he said, almost nose to nose with the boy now, "it would look more interesting to you from detention?"
At the moment that Snape relished, the one where the Longbottom boy would start weeping, the door slammed open. In walked a woman, about medium height with black locks bunched on the top of her head. She did not look pleased. Snape knew the game was over.
"Professor Snape," she said in a sharp British accent, "the Headmaster wishes for your company. I'll watch your class while you're gone."
~*~ "Severus, please sit down." Albus Dumbledore motioned to a cushy chair in his circular office.
"Albus," the tall, dark, greasy haired potions master replied, "I've been sitting here for a quarter of an hour. What do you want?"
"Oh, so you have." Albus said, adjusting his glasses. "Anyway. What was I saying?"
"I really don't know, Albus," Snape hissed, starting to get rather irked.
"Huh." Albus picked his brain. What was it? There was something very important he had to address, but he couldn't think of what it was. "Did you watch the cricket match last night? Scotland's really doing well, I think."
Snape tried to contain his annoyance. "Headmaster, I do not care for cricket. Please tell me what is the matter, or I will be on my way."
"I would tell you the matter if I knew what the matter was." The old man replied. He pressed a little box on his desk. "Miss Grove, could you tell me why I wanted to talk to Severus?"
"Albus," Snape replied, "You don't have an intercom or a secretary. That's an empty cigar box."
"What about Miss Grove?"
"She's a coat rack with a wig on it, sir."
"Ah," Albus began to understand, "that reminds me of why you're here. Severus, you scare children."
There was an awkward silence in which Snape shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"And?" he asked, sneering.
"Children can learn things if they're scared to death of their teacher." The headmaster said, fiddling around with a quill. "The teachers and I have decided that it would be best for you to, er, get in contact with the children."
"What do you mean 'get in contact'?"
"We would like you to serve as a temporary councillor." The old man replied, noticing that the quill had leaked green ink all over his beard.
"But Albus," Snape whined, "I already have to deal with the Slytherins all year round, there's no reason to have to deal with all the others, too!"
"No more, Severus," Dumbledore resolved, magicing out the stain that was slowly dribbling down his front. "You will do as I say. It is for the betterment of the school."
Snape got up in a huff and began to leave. But a question was nagging at the back of his mind.
"Albus," he asked, "who complained about my behaviour?"
Dumbledore looked up. "I believe," he said, straightening his beard, "It was Professor Stone."
~*~*~*~*~*~ That's the prologue. If you don't know who Stone is, start with the fic 'Sourly Smitten Snape', then 'The Severus Snape Society'. New chapter up soon.
Prologue
The rainy day outside was beginning to effect the students. As they sat around the potions classroom, half of them looked wearily out the window, longing for a spot of sunshine in the eternally grey sky. Severus Snape was beginning to notice this as he lectured, and decided who his next victim would be.
"Longbottom," he let out in a deadly whisper, "could you please tell me what is so interesting about the window this morning?"
Neville Longbottom snapped to Snape's gaze and began shivering with fear.
"J-j-just looking, s-s-sir." He stuttered.
Snape strode close to Neville, who was now pretty close to whimpering.
"Perhaps," he said, almost nose to nose with the boy now, "it would look more interesting to you from detention?"
At the moment that Snape relished, the one where the Longbottom boy would start weeping, the door slammed open. In walked a woman, about medium height with black locks bunched on the top of her head. She did not look pleased. Snape knew the game was over.
"Professor Snape," she said in a sharp British accent, "the Headmaster wishes for your company. I'll watch your class while you're gone."
~*~ "Severus, please sit down." Albus Dumbledore motioned to a cushy chair in his circular office.
"Albus," the tall, dark, greasy haired potions master replied, "I've been sitting here for a quarter of an hour. What do you want?"
"Oh, so you have." Albus said, adjusting his glasses. "Anyway. What was I saying?"
"I really don't know, Albus," Snape hissed, starting to get rather irked.
"Huh." Albus picked his brain. What was it? There was something very important he had to address, but he couldn't think of what it was. "Did you watch the cricket match last night? Scotland's really doing well, I think."
Snape tried to contain his annoyance. "Headmaster, I do not care for cricket. Please tell me what is the matter, or I will be on my way."
"I would tell you the matter if I knew what the matter was." The old man replied. He pressed a little box on his desk. "Miss Grove, could you tell me why I wanted to talk to Severus?"
"Albus," Snape replied, "You don't have an intercom or a secretary. That's an empty cigar box."
"What about Miss Grove?"
"She's a coat rack with a wig on it, sir."
"Ah," Albus began to understand, "that reminds me of why you're here. Severus, you scare children."
There was an awkward silence in which Snape shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"And?" he asked, sneering.
"Children can learn things if they're scared to death of their teacher." The headmaster said, fiddling around with a quill. "The teachers and I have decided that it would be best for you to, er, get in contact with the children."
"What do you mean 'get in contact'?"
"We would like you to serve as a temporary councillor." The old man replied, noticing that the quill had leaked green ink all over his beard.
"But Albus," Snape whined, "I already have to deal with the Slytherins all year round, there's no reason to have to deal with all the others, too!"
"No more, Severus," Dumbledore resolved, magicing out the stain that was slowly dribbling down his front. "You will do as I say. It is for the betterment of the school."
Snape got up in a huff and began to leave. But a question was nagging at the back of his mind.
"Albus," he asked, "who complained about my behaviour?"
Dumbledore looked up. "I believe," he said, straightening his beard, "It was Professor Stone."
~*~*~*~*~*~ That's the prologue. If you don't know who Stone is, start with the fic 'Sourly Smitten Snape', then 'The Severus Snape Society'. New chapter up soon.