Disclaimer: I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book.
Chapter Four
When in doubt, blame Potter. Those were five words to live by if you asked Severus Snape.
Those five words had become his mantra back when he had been a student at Hogwarts. Don't know who hexed him so the back of his robes read, "Kick me, I'm ugly?" Blame Potter. Don't know who transfigured his hair into a thousand tiny snakes? Blame Potter. Don't know who put tadpoles in his pumpkin juice? Blame Potter.
The tadpole trick had to be the most juvenile prank he ever had the misfortune of coming across. Which was saying a lot, as Severus had to sit through not only seven years of pranks from Potter and his friends, but also seven years of pranks from those awful Weasley twins.
And if you asked him about the most disappointing prank, Snape would have told you it was the hair-becoming-snakes prank. If he were hexed to look like a medusa, then he damn well would want to be able to turn people to stone with a single glance.
His first victims would be the obvious choice. What he thought of as the most vicious prank—well, that too would also be the obvious choice.
If you pressed him, Snape would admit that Potter did not play all of those pranks. Indeed, he rather believed that the tadpole prank was either Black or Pettigrew's fault as Snape had always thought those two were the most childish of the Marauders. But still, if it wasn't Potter who actually thrown the hex, it was a pretty good bet that it was one of his friends. If it wasn't Potter, it was Black. If it wasn't Black, it was Lupin. If it wasn't Lupin, it was Pettigrew. Follow the chain up and every single time, you could blame Potter either for casting the hex or encouraging his friends.
So, when in doubt, blame Potter.
Severus had never expected to have to use his mantra after his years at Hogwarts. Yet somehow, here he was, teaching at Hogwarts and teaching Potter's son.
Being offered the position as Potions Master was one of the most surprising events in his life. It wasn't as if Snape did not have confidence in his ability in mixing potions. He knew he was one of the foremost authorities on the subject in the entire Wizarding world. False modesty, after all, was so unbecoming.
No, Snape was surprised that Dumbledore would actually offer a Slytherin the job. Dumbledore whose partiality towards Gryffindors was almost legendary amongst Slytherin alumni and their children. Dumbledore who turned a blind eye when Potter's pranks almost killed him. Dumbledore who even now ignored it when the current Potter gang blatantly attempted to break every single rule in the book.
Dumbledore who gave Snape a teaching position even after he learned of Snape's affiliation with the Death Eaters. It was the most surprising thing. And it had saved his life.
It was the biggest irony in his life that the two life debts he owed were both to Gryffindors.
That fact didn't stop him from blaming the current Potter for his miseries though. He was certain that Potter had something to do with Black escaping three years ago. That alone was enough to mitigate any soft feelings Severus might have had for the orphaned boy. If the boy was unwilling to learn from his father's past mistakes, then there was nothing that Severus could do for him.
That didn't stop him from trying though.
He knew that Potter didn't trust him. Good. Because he couldn't be trusted. While he would never willingly go back to the Death Eaters, there were ways he could be coerced back into the fold. Everyone has a breaking point. Everyone could be broken.
Therefore, first lesson for life—trust no one.
It was most infuriating that even after six years, he had been unable to pound that simple concept into Potter's thick skull. Not even after Potter's third year, when that know-it-all Granger had tattled about his new broom. Not even after Potter's fourth year, when he had a falling out with Weasley over being selected as a champion.
There were times he felt like giving up.
But he would never do that. He knew that his colleagues often questioned his harsh teaching methods. He could see the questions behind their eyes. He could see them thinking that it would be better to be more supporting rather than caustic.
Severus Snape could never do that. It just was not in his nature. It didn't mean that he didn't want the best for his students, although they might not agree on what that was. And he would never give up on any of them.
Because the one thing he hated most about his school career was that all of his teachers had given up on him.
He would never give up on any of his students. He would leave that mistake to other professors. Let McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, and the rest have the occasional pupil that they despise, that they think is hopeless. He would not give up on any single one of them. Not even Longbottom who had blown up more cauldrons than he cared to count and who was due to destroy another within the week. Not even Potter who was a trusting fool. Not even those gossiping Gryffindors in the back whose lives revolved around boys.
And who provided an excellent opportunity to take off more points from Gryffindor. Snape still nourished fond hopes of one day taking one hundred points off from Gryffindor in a single class period.
The other option was to call them on their gossip, ask them to repeat it, and humiliate them in the process. Such humiliation might convince them never to gossip in class again. Snape rather doubted that, but that was not going to stop him from trying to cure them of their bad habits. Especially when there might be an opportunity to take off points after they repeat the gossip anyway.
"Ms. Brown, Ms. Patil," said Snape, "As whatever you are speaking of is giving you such great amusement, surely you would have no qualms on sharing it with the rest of the class?" The two girls looked momentarily bewildered from which Snape deduced that they had thought he would not notice their conversation. They really should have known better.
"An answer, please, from either one of you," he continued. "Considering how you have been chattering non-stop from the beginning of class, I find it absolutely astonishing that you now have nothing to say."
"I don't think you would find what we were talking about interesting, sir." Ms. Patil was the first to find her tongue.
"Five points, Ms. Patil, for presuming to know what I and the rest of your classmates may find interesting. Answer the question."
"We were speaking of Divination, sir."
Snape almost felt bad for taking away the points earlier. Indeed, he had no interest in whatever that old fraud had to say. While Dumbledore may believe her to have some talent, in Snape's opinion, two correct prophecies in the span of almost twenty years indicated luck, not talent and certainly not skill. There was no reason to continue this line of questioning.
Except he saw Potter blush. He saw Granger put her head down and clench her fists. And he saw Weasley looking sick.
Perhaps he was interested in what Trelawney had to say after all.
"Exactly what were you speaking of, in regards to Divination, Ms. Patil? You have the attention of the entire class."
"Professor Trelawney made a prediction, sir."
"Professor Trelawney made a prediction? Imagine that. I would have never expected predictions to be made in Divination, of all subjects. Five points, Ms. Patil, for stating the obvious and avoiding the question."
Ms. Patil flushed at his words, and stuttered, seemingly unable to go on out of embarrassment. Fortunately for her, her partner in crime decided to help her out.
"Professor Trelawney said . . ." Snape turned his attention and gaze to Ms. Brown. She summoned her courage and then blurted out, "She said today was the day that Harry Potter would confess his undying love and devotion for Hermione Granger!"
That remark set off pandemonium in the classroom. The Slytherins had started snickering at Ms. Brown's revelation. The assorted Gryffindors conferred loudly amongst themselves about the same topic.
And the two in the middle of all the chaos were bright, bright red.
While he did enjoy seeing Potter embarrassed, Snape did have to call the class back into order. He did so, utilizing his favorite method.
"Two points each, Ms. Brown and Ms. Patil, for gossiping about such worthless items in class. I would recommend that the rest of you return your attention to your potions as they are being graded." He glared at the Gryffindors, who soon got the hint. The Slytherins continued to snicker. He let them as he would not take points of his own House if he could avoid it. If their lack of attention had an adverse affect of their grades, however, that was their own fault.
He should have known that Trelawney made a prediction like that. She always went for the obvious in her foretellings. He put it up to a lack of talent. Since she could not see the future, in order to fool people into believing she had such a gift, she had to make predictions that most people could see coming. A prime example of such were her constant "visions" of Potter's death. Everyone knew that the Dark Lord was after Potter. Out of all the students at Hogwarts, he was the most likely to die.
It was also obvious that Potter and Granger went well together. Some students may have thought that Weasley and Granger would be the better choice. Such students would undoubtedly equate their constant arguments with deep-seated sexual tension. They did not see those arguments as a sign of a fundamental personality clash. And they did not see that any relationship between Weasley and Granger would end up very badly. A relationship between Potter and Granger, on the other hand, would stand a much better chance of lasting through the years. Simply because Potter and Granger were willing to listen to each other, while all Weasley and Granger did at times was shout at each other.
However, ruminations upon the possible matches of his students was neither here nor there. What mattered most now was keeping an eye on the class, to prevent any fatal errors.
If Severus Snape had ever been introduced to the Muggle concept of Murphy's Law, he would have pointed to Neville Longbottom as the ultimate proof of its existence. For no sooner had he started to patrol the classroom, when the accident he had been waiting to happen actually happened.
"No, Neville! You're not supposed to add the pixie dust till later!"
"Umm, I already did, Hermione."
"Everyone duck!"
That was very good advice, thought Snape as he threw himself under a desk seconds before the explosion occurred. The ability to duck quickly was a requirement for surviving Potions with Longbottom. It was several seconds before Snape could summon the fortitude to examine the extent of the damage.
Oh dear lord, were Snape's only thoughts as he surveyed the room. The damage was astounding. Longbottom's cauldron was now residing in cauldron-heaven (Snape was convinced that cauldron-hell was being Longbottom's cauldron). It contents had been spewed out across the classroom and into other students' cauldrons, fueling a chain reaction of explosions. There would be no chance to grade anything today.
Snape closed his eyes and sighed internally. It was days like this that he sympathized with Granger. Trying to keep Longbottom out of danger was a full time job.
Unfortunately for Granger, no good deed gets left unpunished.
"Five points from Gryffindor, Ms. Granger, for not watching over Mr. Longbottom more carefully. Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Longbottom, for causing this mess." He looked over at them to gauge their reaction. Granger was clenching her fists again and looked like she was biting her tongue. Meanwhile, both Potter and Weasley looked as if they would happily hex him to hell and back. Longbottom, on the other hand, looked dazed. It would be best to send him to the infirmary.
"Ms. Granger, would you kindly take Mr. Longbottom to the infirmary? Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley will clean up for you both. I would suggest that everyone start cleaning right now."
His class was too well-trained to ignore those orders. Granger left with Longbottom while the remainder of the class silently cleaned up. When that chore was finished, Snape dismissed the class after giving them an appropriate amount of homework. Perhaps if they spent more time studying the attributes of various potions additives, such accidents could be prevented in the future.
He rather doubted that. Potions would not be Potions without monthly explosions. He only hoped that the next explosion Longbottom made would not leave such a foul stench in the air.
Grimacing, Snape stalked out of the classroom. There was no way he could stand breathing in that odor any longer. He had no recourse but to go to the teacher's lounge while the room aired out.
Still—thirty-nine points in one day. He'd get there someday.
