The Mirror of Erised
Chapter Three
By Jewel Little Bird
Snape was furious.
Yet again, he had failed to secure the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He knew Dumbledore's reasons why the job had never been given to him (and never would, according to the Headmaster), but that didn't mean he couldn't hope.
Besides, it gave him someone else besides Harry Potter to vent his frustration on every year.
He tapped his fingers impatiently against the table as the students gradually entered the Great Hall and sat at their House tables. His sneer got worse when he spotted Potter and his two friends, Granger and Weasley. At least from this distance, the boy looked exactly like James. Not too difficult to hate him, considering.
He glanced up and down the table to see if the new teacher had made an appearance yet. To his annoyance, Dumbledore hadn't told him who the new teacher was. All Snape knew was that the teacher was a "she". So far, he only spotted people he knew. Hagrid wasn't there, obviously, and neither was McGonagall; the former was taking the new first years across the lake, and the latter was waiting to greet them. The new teacher's seat was still empty.
Just as the last student sat down and all began to wait for the first years to appear (not quietly, unfortunately), Snape heard a snap as a door opened and closed behind him as well as a whoosh as someone ran to her seat. It had to be the new teacher, since all the other teachers were accounted for. He turned his head slightly so that he could see her as she sat down.
It was all he could do not to stand up and curse Dumbledore into next year.
Of all the people the Headmaster could have chosen, WHY had he picked this child?! It was none other than that idiot girl from the tournament last year! What the hell could SHE know about the Dark Arts?!
Snape took a sip of his wine, unaware that the house-elves would later marvel at the noticeable teeth marks he left on the rim of the goblet. In his mind, he was already making plans to scare the girl witless. In doing so, he remembered how he had taken the last few Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers "under his wing."
Quirrell had been easy to terrify, even with Voldemort attached to the back of his head; Snape hardly even had to put effort into it. Gilderoy Lockhart had been more of a challenge; by the end of the year, however, the blond-haired idiot had been walking on eggshells around Snape. Whether or not Snape had any frightening effect on Remus Lupin was doubtful; the werewolf had done an excellent job at hiding his emotions (if Snape hadn't hated him so much, he would've been impressed). The last teacher, Barty Crouch, had been masquerading as Mad-Eye Moody, causing Snape to be the careful one; after some consideration, Snape thought this was a good thing, since Crouch had practically been waiting for the excuse to kill him for allying himself with Dumbledore.
Snape looked back at Fleur De' Whatever-Her-Name-Was. She had already gotten herself into a conversation with Professor Flitwick, who seemed to be enamored with her. If she felt the heat of Snape's glare, she managed to ignore it. As the first years were finally led into the room by McGonagall, Snape continued to think of nasty ways of terrifying the new teacher.
@
End of Chapter Three.
Snape was furious.
Yet again, he had failed to secure the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He knew Dumbledore's reasons why the job had never been given to him (and never would, according to the Headmaster), but that didn't mean he couldn't hope.
Besides, it gave him someone else besides Harry Potter to vent his frustration on every year.
He tapped his fingers impatiently against the table as the students gradually entered the Great Hall and sat at their House tables. His sneer got worse when he spotted Potter and his two friends, Granger and Weasley. At least from this distance, the boy looked exactly like James. Not too difficult to hate him, considering.
He glanced up and down the table to see if the new teacher had made an appearance yet. To his annoyance, Dumbledore hadn't told him who the new teacher was. All Snape knew was that the teacher was a "she". So far, he only spotted people he knew. Hagrid wasn't there, obviously, and neither was McGonagall; the former was taking the new first years across the lake, and the latter was waiting to greet them. The new teacher's seat was still empty.
Just as the last student sat down and all began to wait for the first years to appear (not quietly, unfortunately), Snape heard a snap as a door opened and closed behind him as well as a whoosh as someone ran to her seat. It had to be the new teacher, since all the other teachers were accounted for. He turned his head slightly so that he could see her as she sat down.
It was all he could do not to stand up and curse Dumbledore into next year.
Of all the people the Headmaster could have chosen, WHY had he picked this child?! It was none other than that idiot girl from the tournament last year! What the hell could SHE know about the Dark Arts?!
Snape took a sip of his wine, unaware that the house-elves would later marvel at the noticeable teeth marks he left on the rim of the goblet. In his mind, he was already making plans to scare the girl witless. In doing so, he remembered how he had taken the last few Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers "under his wing."
Quirrell had been easy to terrify, even with Voldemort attached to the back of his head; Snape hardly even had to put effort into it. Gilderoy Lockhart had been more of a challenge; by the end of the year, however, the blond-haired idiot had been walking on eggshells around Snape. Whether or not Snape had any frightening effect on Remus Lupin was doubtful; the werewolf had done an excellent job at hiding his emotions (if Snape hadn't hated him so much, he would've been impressed). The last teacher, Barty Crouch, had been masquerading as Mad-Eye Moody, causing Snape to be the careful one; after some consideration, Snape thought this was a good thing, since Crouch had practically been waiting for the excuse to kill him for allying himself with Dumbledore.
Snape looked back at Fleur De' Whatever-Her-Name-Was. She had already gotten herself into a conversation with Professor Flitwick, who seemed to be enamored with her. If she felt the heat of Snape's glare, she managed to ignore it. As the first years were finally led into the room by McGonagall, Snape continued to think of nasty ways of terrifying the new teacher.
@
End of Chapter Three.