"Quod Me Nutruit, Me Destruit – Chapter 1"
By the Crystalline Temptress
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, the brilliant writer J.K. Rowling does. So don't sue me.
A/N: I got the inspiration for this from a line that Professor Snape had said to Quirell in the movie. " . . . When you have decided where your loyalties lie," or something similar to that.
There's no Severus/Hermione just yet . . . It'll probably come in the next few chapters or so. If ever there is, it's very mild.
Gratitude once more to my beta readers. :)
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"Today is your examination day. There is to be no talking, no sidelong glances, or anything pertaining to cheating," Professor Snape declared, sweeping past them all, his robes billowing dramatically behind him.
"Half of this exam will be written, the other half laboratory work. I have assured that copying is impossible, because I made five different versions of this test; but regardless of that, I will reprimand all who attempt to break the rules. I will pass the papers, and at the bottom of the ninth page you will see the potion you need to brew." He ignored the incredulous whispers of the class. "I certainly hope you all came prepared, because I will not be providing the ingredients." The last statement received groans. He gave the Gryffindors his patented glare, while the Slytherins looked smug, thinking that their head of the house must have made their exams easier. Snape took a thick pile of sheets and passed it to each student, allowing himself a thin-lipped smile at their horrified looks.
You will all need this, he thought, shaking his head internally.
As he was passing by a table, his robe caught on a student's shoe, causing him to skid forward a meter or so. Everyone tittered, but hushed immediately as he straightened himself and looked at each pupil sharply.
"Snape's a bit more vindictive today, isn't he?" fifth year Ron Weasley muttered audibly. Snape could practically feel the boy eyeing him with distaste from behind that infamous red hair.
"And a bit clumsy," Harry Potter added quietly, his emerald green eyes no doubt trained on the teacher as he strode by.
"Stop it," Hermione Granger hissed. "You'll get us in trouble."
"Potter, Weasley and Granger," Snape barked as if on cue, gliding over to them like a malevolent bat. "Talking while the examination is going on."
"But sir, you haven't given us our papers yet," Ron reasoned, holding up his empty palms.
"That is irrelevant. Have you stopped to consider that perhaps your incessant chatter distracts those who have already received their booklets? Ten points from Gryffindor apiece." He walked away from them once more, earning their glares and ire.
Let them bring forth their venom. Snape narrowed his eyes slightly, feeling the beginnings of a headache. He sat down at the desk located at the front of the room, surveying the scene before him, like he usually did every semester. It was a routine he was used to. But due to the deathly quiet atmosphere, added to the headache that made him long to sleep, it was not long before he found himself drifting off.
"Severus," Professor Dumbledore said, gesturing to the chair in front of his table. Snape took a seat and waited impatiently as Dumbledore sat across him.
"What news have you of Voldemort's whereabouts?" the headmaster asked, those blue eyes peering at him from behind those half-moon spectacles.
"None, headmaster." Snape shook his head. "Each time I gather with the Death Eaters, he gives needless information." He exhaled tersely. "I think he suspects me."
"Let us hope that he doesn't," Dumbledore said gravely. "That's unusual, though. If he does suspect you, then why is he not confronting you?" The old wizard looked strained, Snape realized in alarm. "Perhaps he is biding his time . . . Merlin help us. Watch your back more carefully now, Severus. These are dangerous times."
The grim statement had chilled him like nothing else could have.
Snapping out of his reverie, Snape rubbed his temples irritably, gazing blearily at the rows of teenagers before him.
What I would give to be a student again, he thought bitterly. Nothing to worry about except my exams.
But no, he corrected himself; these students worry about their futures and the futures of their families as well.
And it wasn't exactly true that he had nothing to worry about except his studies. He cringed. He spent his later days of schooling with the notorious crowd in Slytherin. For years and years, he had asked himself why.
Perhaps it was the acceptance. He was pureblood, undeniably an excellent, rich wizard with a sharp mind and a sharper tongue. And yet he was lonely, only because he veered away from his batch.
He also recalled that Lucius Malfoy had always received the attention. It was probably due to the fact that Lucius was more obvious about his wealth than anyone was, flaunting everything he could unabashedly.
So when Lucius had befriended him in third year, Snape had risen to the occasion magnificently, showing the Slytherin house and all others that he was brilliant with magic, particularly with hexes and curses. But unbeknownst to them, his best skill lay with potions.
Bottle fame, brew glory and stopper death. His mother had taught him that saying. He knew at a young age that potions were versatile; they could do things that wands could not. Yet in the same count they were constraining; potions needed ingredients, time and exact measurement, while spells only needed a wand.
The hissing of a cauldron brought his attention back from its wander. Neville Longbottom was standing on his stool, whimpering as his iron pot melted into an indefinable mass of liquid on the table.
"Longbottom, this could be the hundredth time you've dissolved a caldron." Snape suppressed his smile as he recognized the potion the boy had made. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, and a minus from your grade."
If only that boy knew how to measure, Snape sneered. A complex potion, although an accident. Pity.
Just then, an enchanted hourglass chimed from the shelves as its sands ran out.
"Time is up," he declared, rising from his stool. "Pass your papers forward at the count of three."
There was a commotion as all struggled to hand in their tests. Finally gathering each one, Snape dismissed them, shuffling the papers as they rushed outside.
"Neville!" Hermione's voice rang out distinctly through the crowd. "Did you know that you made an Arma Liquefacio?"
"What the bloody hell is that?" Ron retorted.
Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "It was a spell used in the medieval times to melt an opponent's armor, if ever he wore any. It only got rid of the armor, though, and did no damage to the skin. Very handy for blacksmiths. But then, people would want a potion that doesn't just get rid of the mail but also scalds the enemy, right? So they invented another concoction that was called Fatalis Arma Liquefacio. It burned the flesh as well," she said knowledgably.
Snape glanced at Hermione. Her knowledge never ceased to amaze the teachers.
Someday, she might be our collegue, he acknowledged, his mouth flattening into a thin line. If her friends won't get in her way.
He watched as she examined the remains of Neville's cauldron, her hazel eyes alight in interest as she assessed the remains. She tucked a sheet of golden brown hair behind her ear and squinted at the liquid substance.
Her curiosity remains either a blessing or a curse, he cogitated, pretending to sort test papers in order to observe her more. After a few minutes of the feigned preoccupation, he decided to send her away, due to the fact that he still had to grade the potions.
"Miss Granger," he said, striding over to her. She looked up at him in alarm, obviously having forgotten where she was. Snape was known for his abrasiveness towards the Gryffindors; he knew that he had to keep the façade, although he didn't mind her presence that much. Harry and Ron looked at her uneasily, and then managed to contain their distaste as Snape looked at them too.
"As much as your interest in the effects of the Arma Liquefacio is admirable, I have some work to do in the dungeons," he remarked in the silky voice he used to praise the Slytherins and reprimand the Gryffindors. "Please leave the room immediately and let me do my work in peace," he commanded, pointing a slender finger at the door.
Harry and Ron looked at each other incredulously, then hurried out to avoid any point-taking Snape was about to do. But just as the three turned to leave, Snape added, "Five points from Gryffindor each for loitering."
As soon as the three had left, he went to work, inspecting the potions of all the students. Soon after, he placed all their marks on parchment and tucked it in with their papers. The headache was beginning to bother him again, pounding upon his temples. Oddly, it didn't feel like a normal headache. . . .It felt rather like a rake digging through his brain.
He scoffed at how ridiculous his musings sounded. "A normal headache indeed," he sneered aloud. "Since when were headaches normal or abnormal?" He shook his head in annoyance, muttering under his breath, then headed out to the lab to make himself a Cure-All potion.
"I can't wait for the examination results," Hermione declared as she sank into a particularly overstuffed armchair. The Gryffindor common room looked wonderfully cozy, the blazing hearth filling the room with a warm, Christmassy glow.
Harry and Ron groaned. "We just finished the tests," Harry said, looking befuddled. "How could you want to see the grades now?"
She looked at him keenly. "Because then I would see how well I fared," she replied. "Because I know I studied, unlike some people."
Ron shook his head. "Hit where it hurts, why don't you?" he muttered, earning a snort from Harry.
"Anyway, what do you think was wrong with Professor Snape today?" Harry piped up thoughtfully.
"What, other than he was clumsier than usual and nearly slept through the entire period?" Ron shrugged. "He must've been thinking of new ways of making our exams harder."
"I don't think so. . . ." Hermione said carefully. "It seemed as if he were distracted," she pointed out, remembering the scene.
Hermione glanced up from her cauldron, checking the magical hourglass for the time. Judging by the amount of sand remaining, she knew that she had about half an hour or so, and therefore decided to watch the surroundings to keep herself occupied.
She glanced at a few Slytherins in the corner; they were whispering amongst themselves and obviously comparing notes. She rolled her eyes and looked at Professor Snape, wondering why he wasn't reprimanding them. Regardless of the fact that they were from Slytherin, he should at least acknowledge them.
Turning to look at the teacher, she was surprised to see him staring at the wall behind her. His expression was the most relaxed she had seen him yet; his eyes were half closed, as if drowsy. His knuckles cushioned his chin as he continued to think, no doubt. Watching him for a longer moment, she thought she saw him wince, and his long fingers stroked his temples as if he were in pain.
Meaning to tell him that there were cheating students, she was about to raise her hand, when Neville's cauldron toppled over. He was distracted from his reflections; he immediately rebuked Neville, and never gave her time to inform him of his dishonest students.
Hermione had only recently become a prefect, and she was proud of that achievement. If she didn't tell Professor Snape about those people, even if they weren't in her house, then she wasn't worthy of that title.
"—good thing that Neville's potion didn't melt the table, one time it did just that. . . ." Harry cut himself off mid-sentence as Hermione stood up. "Where are you going?" he questioned instead, looking at her in mild surprise.
"I forgot to tell Professor Snape that he had some cheating students in his class, since I was distracted by Neville's Arma Liquefacio," she told them, rising from the couch.
"You're going to tell Professor Snape?" Ron demanded incredulously. "Don't bother, he'd probably accuse you of telling lies."
"Then if he does, that's not my problem. Besides, I would've already planted the seed of doubt, and he'll have to take a closer watch at the people I'll name." Hermione allowed herself a smile. With that, she swept out of the room and hurried to where she might find him.
Recalling that some Hufflepuff students were in his laboratory for detention (being a prefect had its quirks; she always heard the news), she hurried to the dungeons.
Snape sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. The Cure-All potion had only numbed the pain, not alleviated it, which caused him to wonder. Was his headache something major?
But Professor Snape was known for never visiting the hospital wing. He wasn't about to go there just because of a headache.
He eyed the five Hufflepuffs in distaste as they scrubbed the dungeon floor. Couldn't they have been assigned someplace else? Professor Sprout just had to let him have the bad end of the deal, didn't she? He sighed again. At least the students were accomplishing their job fairly quickly; maybe he'd be able to turn in for the night at eleven in the evening or so. . . .
At least there are no classes tomorrow, he consoled himself. For once, I'm happy that it's Christmas break.
Just then, a knock sounded on his door. "Come in," he said, too drained of energy to even see who it was.
Hermione Granger stepped into the room, closing the panel behind her. Somehow, the familiar creak of the oak grated on his nerves, even if he'd heard the sound a million times before.
"What brings you here, Miss Granger?" he questioned irritably, the headache pounding inside his skull.
"I forgot to tell you, Professor Snape," she addressed him formally, "that some of your Slytherin students were cheating during your potions exam."
He raised an eyebrow in response to the accusation. "Pray tell, Miss Granger, what makes you think that they were cheating?"
He could see her purse her lips. No doubt she was thinking about how he favored the Slytherins unfairly. Let her draw her conclusions.
"I'm not entirely sure," she admitted. "But you said that no talking was to be allowed, or anything pertaining to cheating," she reasoned. "I just thought that I ought to tell you. And you reprimanded us when we were talking, even without our test papers." She did not need to elaborate further; Snape already knew that she was talking about her group of friends.
He gazed at her impassively. Finally, "Their names, Miss Granger?"
She blinked. "Oh!" She fished for a piece of parchment in her robe and pulled it out, neatly folded. "Here, I wrote them down." She placed it on his desk.
"What made you decide to tell?" he questioned. Perhaps your dislike towards the Slytherins?
She paused. "If I didn't, that would make me less honorable."
"And telling would make you honorable?"
Hermione looked at him levelly, despite the fact that he was intimidating her. "It depends what I tell and to whom I say it to, Professor." She cracked a small smile. "Would you rather that I'd have told Professor McGonagall?"
The remark caught him by surprise. Was his platonic rivalry with Professor McGonagall that obvious, or was this girl just good at spotting things? He exhaled softly. How McGonagall would just love to scold him for his students' behavior.
Snape chose not to answer Hermione's last remark. "Is that all you've come for?" he asked shortly, his mood not improved by the Hufflepuffs peering at them curiously from behind Hermione's back. "Work!" he barked at them, and they all yelped and scrubbed furiously. Hermione, meanwhile, cringed slightly.
"Yes," she nodded. "Good evening, Professor Snape." She headed for the door. As she was swinging it open, it groaned on its hinges, making him wince. Hermione turned to look at him curiously.
"I hope you don't mind me saying," she piped up, "but you look like you've had a headache since Potions, Professor."
"Very objective of you," he responded tersely.
"Just thought you'd like to know that it was a little obvious."
"Was it, really?" he murmured more to himself than to her.
She tucked her hair behind her ear again, the honey-colored strands falling into place upon her shoulders. "Your pupils are kind of dilated, and you look a bit more sallow. . . .I would say that it's not some normal headache, because headaches usually don't do as much damage to people as yours seems to have done to you, unless it is something serious."
He glanced up at her with slightly narrowed eyes. Her pert remark was unexpected, although not entirely resented. He let his eyes hold hers for some time until she backed a step, feeling his silent scrutiny bear down on her. Her response elicited a slight spark of humor from him. Being a teacher definitely had its advantages; a good teacher was able to make most people—generally students—cower under his gaze.
"I could deduct points from your house for talking with disrespect to a professor," he told her coolly, watching with a bit of sadistic amusement as Hermione's expression changed to one of alarm. "But I would only do such a thing if your remarks had no sense to them. Now out, before I lose my temper and still take points for nagging a teacher."
She exhaled a sigh of relief. She nodded wordlessly and resumed her exit, bidding him good night once more and shutting the entryway behind her.
Snape glared at the Hufflepuffs, who had once again dropped their brushes to ogle. "I won't warn you another time if this happens again, or the whole lot of you will be working here once more for a detention you have earned from me." They nodded hastily and returned to their work.
He curled his fingers into the sleeves of his robes. His head seemed to hurt even more.
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A/N: As for the last line, "he curled his fingers into the sleeves of his robes," I couldn't help but put that because I noted that he did something similar to that during the movie. I think it was right after he saw Draco Malfoy and right before he started with his "bottle fame, brew glory and stopper death" speech. I had interpreted it as a movement of irritation or as a comfort habit, like sucking one's thumb. :)
I didn't make Snape that vindictive in this fic, neither did I make him too nice. I really had quite some difficulty tempering his reactions to things to form a plausible persona for him.
The line "like a malevolent bat" was taken from one of the books. I just found it so cute. :)
Snape's headache has a major portion in this too, just like his dreams. :)