A/N: *enter marching band, paparazzi, and screaming fans* And I return
triumphantly with chapter four! Thank you for your patience and, of course,
your reviews, which I find very encouraging. I hope to have the next
chapter, which could be the last one, written and posted soon, before
school starts on Monday, ack, so check back soon. Enjoy the chapter and
remember to review!
Cheers,
Athalia.
Snaps For Severus!
Chapter Four: Snaps For Minerva!
"He's the hairy-handed gent who ran amuck in Kent."
"Severus."
"Lately he's been overheard in Mayfair."
"Severus, please."
"Better stay away from him. He'll rip your lungs out, Jim."
"Severus, really.
"I'd like to meet his tailor-"
"Severus!" Minerva McGonagall's mouth was as thin as Severus had ever seen
it. He was unpleasantly reminded of the days long ago when he had been a
student in McGonagall's Transfiguration class, and for just a moment he
quailed under the older woman's glare.
"Werewolves of London."
"As truly lovely as it is to hear you sing, Severus," said McGonagall in a
voice as subtle and deadly as arsenic, "I believe we are ready to carry on
with our little, ah, game."
Severus nodded curtly. Lupin, who the song had obviously been directed
toward, didn't look at Severus, just stared intently at fly buzzing along
the wall as if it was the most interesting thing he'd seen in years and
twirled a lock of graying, light brown hair persistently around his finger.
So far, they had managed to get through the Snap Cup rounds of Professors
Flitwick ("Fillius is an inspiration to short people who don't want to be
jockeys everywhere"), Hagrid ("remarkably, Hagrid has managed to never sit
on or step on one of the students"), Sprout ("dirt looks quite becoming on
Rosemary"), Binns ("Jonathon is more powerful than my strongest sleeping
draught"), Filch ("it is quite a feat to stay so filthy when your job
revolves around cleaning"), Trelawney ("Sibyll always seems eager to help
me- for instance informing me that my love line is barely long enough to be
human and that I have no affection lines"), Vector, Pince, Pomfrey, and
Sinistra.
Severus had acted more immature today than he ever had in his entire life.
He was always unduly cruel to people, there was no denying that, but
usually he did it with some subtly and even, dare he say it, style. But a
reckless daring had infested Severus, consuming him like a disease, when
the Headmaster clunked that frilly goblet down on the table, and Severus
didn't regret a single word he'd said that day.
"Now that we are ready," said Dumbledore, surveying them all serenely and,
like Lupin, choosing to ignore Severus's little Warren Zevon outburst, "I
suppose we should proceed. Now I believe we have not snapped for Minerva
yet, have we?"
"Yes, actually we did just a while ago, Albus," McGonagall tried in vain.
"You were.... You fell asleep."
"Oh, Minerva, don't be modest," said Severus, sneering. "You know we
haven't snapped for you yet!"
Severus was once again subdued slightly by a look of pure hatred shot at
him from McGonagall. She gave him a horrible forced smile and said, voice
trembling slightly with suppressed rage, "Of course, Severus, how silly of
me to try and get out of it. You always have my best interests at heart,
don't you?"
Severus's mouth curled into a mirthful leer. "Of course I do, Minerva," he
said. "What are friends for?"
"See!" said Dumbledore, smiling in triumph. "Our friendships are
strengthening already! Now everyone, it's time to snap for Minerva. You
know what to do!" And once more the room was filled with the scratching of
quills on parchment.
Severus looked down at his parchment, grin diminishing slightly. Even in
situations where he got to see his colleagues utterly humiliated, Severus
was not the kind of man who remained smiling for long periods of time, on
the very rare occasion that he smiled at all. Nothing seemed worthy of
putting excess strain on his mouth muscles. Under his calm, collected
exterior, Severus was always bitching about something.
What to say, what to say? For most of his co-workers he had just dished
out insults, obvious, blatant insults. But for Lupin and McGonagall he
decided that they would have to be a bit more high quality than that, a bit
slyer, especially with McGonagall. He wanted to insult her in such a way
that he would receive a ten out of ten if he was still McGonagall's student
and she was grading him on an insult essay.
He swept his eyes over McGonagall's rigid form, sitting up straight on the
couch, giving them all a truly evil look which she usually reserved for
students, one that seemed to say, "Go on, act up in my class, I dare you.
See what happens." Severus was looking for any imperfections that he could
tactfully point out to his colleagues. All the obvious stuff of course,
graying hair in the same tight bun every day, lined face, odd glasses, a
demeanor that was often less than warm and friendly, to say the least, but
Severus really couldn't talk on that account. What else though? And he had
to find some way to disguise it as a compliment. Severus sighed. Cruelty is
a difficult art, no matter what some may think of it.
He looked around at the other staff members. They were all scribbling
fervently on their slips of parchment. It reminded him of exam time. Their
air had an unsettling, nervous feeling to it. People were hunched over,
thinking, writing. Lupin's cloudy gray eyes were narrowed slightly in
concentration. He seemed to be taking this activity to heart, thinking up a
truly flattering compliment for every staff member, always earning him or
her ample snaps. Remus Lupin. Always the gentleman. Severus's stomach
churned in disgust. The bastard.
Severus was Lupin's counterpart, his opposite. It was his duty to make sure
things didn't get to warm and fuzzy in the staff room that day. That was
what Dumbledore wanted, warm and fuzzy, but for once Severus was finding it
necessary to hinder the Headmaster's plans. People were finishing, putting
their slips of parchment into the Snap Cup and leaning back on the couches,
waiting. Severus was pressed for time. An idea struck him. It wasn't a
great one, but it would do. He quickly wrote it down, signed his name, and
dropped it in the cup.
When everyone was done, Dumbledore swept the Snap Cup wordlessly up from
the table. He paused before drawing out the first compliment, letting the
anticipation build, Severus presumed. But finally, he took one out,
unfolded it with a flourish, and read it aloud.
"This one is from Remus," he informed them. "Remus says, 'Minerva is firm,
but fair with the students and she teaches her subject well.' Snaps for
Minerva!" Much snapping (a sound that Severus was sure would haunt his
nightmares more than the cackle of Voldemort's laughter from now on)
ensued, and Severus's colleagues smiled in consent with what Lupin had
written.
"Well," said Dumbledore, "this next one is from Sibyll, this ought to be,
ah, interesting." His eyes swept over the parchment and he read, in a
surprisingly good imitation of Trelawney's misty voice (which he didn't
seem to realize he was using), "Whilst gazing into my orb, I was informed
that, though she may be in denial of the powers of The Divine, Minerva
McGonagall has lived a good life, in accordance with what has been written
for her in the stars.' Well... Snaps for Minerva! That's quite an
accomplishment!" Half-hearted snaps filled the room as the staff exchanged
looks of exasperation and confusion.
After several more slips of parchment were read and snapped over, the
inevitable happened, and Severus's "compliment" was reached. "And here,"
Dumbledore exclaimed jubilantly, "is what we've all been waiting for:
Severus's compliment for Minerva!" McGonagall's eyes narrowed into slits,
snake-like and dangerous. They bore painfully into Severus's, and he looked
away quickly, beginning to wish he'd actually written something nice. It
was to late now, though. Dumbledore unfolded the parchment and began to
read, letting Severus's words out into the painfully still air, like some
sort of hairy beast being released out into a quiet night.
"Severus says," said Dumbledore, "'what I like best about Minerva is that
when she is with Albus, she makes him look even younger than he did when I
was a Hogwarts student.' Now isn't that nice? Snaps for Minerva!"
The look of indignation on McGonagall's face should have made it all worth
it, but somehow it didn't. As soon as this was over, Severus knew,
McGonagall would make him pay. Severus squirmed uncomfortably in his seat
as McGonagall's glare cut through him like a laser. 'At least she won't
kill me', thought Severus. 'I'm to useful to The Order to spare.'
"Well," said Dumbledore, "that's all for Minerva. Let's all give her one
last big round of snaps!" Everyone snapped, including Severus, though it
made his head ache. Snapping for her might ensure that some of his health
may stay intact later. "And I believe," said Dumbledore, "that we only have
one more person to snap for." And the wizard's crooked nose and sparkling
blue eyes turned toward Severus.
For the first time since his days as a real Death Eater, the sight of the
headmaster's warm smile induced nothing but guilt, fear, and shear panic in
Severus. "It is time," said Dumbledore, "to snap for Severus!"
Severus's stomach clenched in dread at the sight of the looks of sadistic
pleasure on his colleagues' faces. Now he was regretting all the things
he'd said. Fear for his own pride and safety seemed to be the only thing
that could instill remorse in the potions professor these days.
Severus was surprised to see that in the sea of leering faces before him,
none looked quite so alarming as that of Remus Lupin. The look on his face
was one that he had quite frequently seen on the faces of the late James
Potter and Sirius Black, but had never marred the usually pleasant features
of their more timid compatriot. It was a look that sent chills of dread,
embarrassment, and fear down Severus's spine, the likes of which he hadn't
felt since his fifth year when Potter had strung him upside down from a
tree. It was a look of vindictive pleasure that now stared out at him from
Lupin's lined face, a look that quite clearly said "Oh, Snivellus, I am
going to kick your ass."
triumphantly with chapter four! Thank you for your patience and, of course,
your reviews, which I find very encouraging. I hope to have the next
chapter, which could be the last one, written and posted soon, before
school starts on Monday, ack, so check back soon. Enjoy the chapter and
remember to review!
Cheers,
Athalia.
Snaps For Severus!
Chapter Four: Snaps For Minerva!
"He's the hairy-handed gent who ran amuck in Kent."
"Severus."
"Lately he's been overheard in Mayfair."
"Severus, please."
"Better stay away from him. He'll rip your lungs out, Jim."
"Severus, really.
"I'd like to meet his tailor-"
"Severus!" Minerva McGonagall's mouth was as thin as Severus had ever seen
it. He was unpleasantly reminded of the days long ago when he had been a
student in McGonagall's Transfiguration class, and for just a moment he
quailed under the older woman's glare.
"Werewolves of London."
"As truly lovely as it is to hear you sing, Severus," said McGonagall in a
voice as subtle and deadly as arsenic, "I believe we are ready to carry on
with our little, ah, game."
Severus nodded curtly. Lupin, who the song had obviously been directed
toward, didn't look at Severus, just stared intently at fly buzzing along
the wall as if it was the most interesting thing he'd seen in years and
twirled a lock of graying, light brown hair persistently around his finger.
So far, they had managed to get through the Snap Cup rounds of Professors
Flitwick ("Fillius is an inspiration to short people who don't want to be
jockeys everywhere"), Hagrid ("remarkably, Hagrid has managed to never sit
on or step on one of the students"), Sprout ("dirt looks quite becoming on
Rosemary"), Binns ("Jonathon is more powerful than my strongest sleeping
draught"), Filch ("it is quite a feat to stay so filthy when your job
revolves around cleaning"), Trelawney ("Sibyll always seems eager to help
me- for instance informing me that my love line is barely long enough to be
human and that I have no affection lines"), Vector, Pince, Pomfrey, and
Sinistra.
Severus had acted more immature today than he ever had in his entire life.
He was always unduly cruel to people, there was no denying that, but
usually he did it with some subtly and even, dare he say it, style. But a
reckless daring had infested Severus, consuming him like a disease, when
the Headmaster clunked that frilly goblet down on the table, and Severus
didn't regret a single word he'd said that day.
"Now that we are ready," said Dumbledore, surveying them all serenely and,
like Lupin, choosing to ignore Severus's little Warren Zevon outburst, "I
suppose we should proceed. Now I believe we have not snapped for Minerva
yet, have we?"
"Yes, actually we did just a while ago, Albus," McGonagall tried in vain.
"You were.... You fell asleep."
"Oh, Minerva, don't be modest," said Severus, sneering. "You know we
haven't snapped for you yet!"
Severus was once again subdued slightly by a look of pure hatred shot at
him from McGonagall. She gave him a horrible forced smile and said, voice
trembling slightly with suppressed rage, "Of course, Severus, how silly of
me to try and get out of it. You always have my best interests at heart,
don't you?"
Severus's mouth curled into a mirthful leer. "Of course I do, Minerva," he
said. "What are friends for?"
"See!" said Dumbledore, smiling in triumph. "Our friendships are
strengthening already! Now everyone, it's time to snap for Minerva. You
know what to do!" And once more the room was filled with the scratching of
quills on parchment.
Severus looked down at his parchment, grin diminishing slightly. Even in
situations where he got to see his colleagues utterly humiliated, Severus
was not the kind of man who remained smiling for long periods of time, on
the very rare occasion that he smiled at all. Nothing seemed worthy of
putting excess strain on his mouth muscles. Under his calm, collected
exterior, Severus was always bitching about something.
What to say, what to say? For most of his co-workers he had just dished
out insults, obvious, blatant insults. But for Lupin and McGonagall he
decided that they would have to be a bit more high quality than that, a bit
slyer, especially with McGonagall. He wanted to insult her in such a way
that he would receive a ten out of ten if he was still McGonagall's student
and she was grading him on an insult essay.
He swept his eyes over McGonagall's rigid form, sitting up straight on the
couch, giving them all a truly evil look which she usually reserved for
students, one that seemed to say, "Go on, act up in my class, I dare you.
See what happens." Severus was looking for any imperfections that he could
tactfully point out to his colleagues. All the obvious stuff of course,
graying hair in the same tight bun every day, lined face, odd glasses, a
demeanor that was often less than warm and friendly, to say the least, but
Severus really couldn't talk on that account. What else though? And he had
to find some way to disguise it as a compliment. Severus sighed. Cruelty is
a difficult art, no matter what some may think of it.
He looked around at the other staff members. They were all scribbling
fervently on their slips of parchment. It reminded him of exam time. Their
air had an unsettling, nervous feeling to it. People were hunched over,
thinking, writing. Lupin's cloudy gray eyes were narrowed slightly in
concentration. He seemed to be taking this activity to heart, thinking up a
truly flattering compliment for every staff member, always earning him or
her ample snaps. Remus Lupin. Always the gentleman. Severus's stomach
churned in disgust. The bastard.
Severus was Lupin's counterpart, his opposite. It was his duty to make sure
things didn't get to warm and fuzzy in the staff room that day. That was
what Dumbledore wanted, warm and fuzzy, but for once Severus was finding it
necessary to hinder the Headmaster's plans. People were finishing, putting
their slips of parchment into the Snap Cup and leaning back on the couches,
waiting. Severus was pressed for time. An idea struck him. It wasn't a
great one, but it would do. He quickly wrote it down, signed his name, and
dropped it in the cup.
When everyone was done, Dumbledore swept the Snap Cup wordlessly up from
the table. He paused before drawing out the first compliment, letting the
anticipation build, Severus presumed. But finally, he took one out,
unfolded it with a flourish, and read it aloud.
"This one is from Remus," he informed them. "Remus says, 'Minerva is firm,
but fair with the students and she teaches her subject well.' Snaps for
Minerva!" Much snapping (a sound that Severus was sure would haunt his
nightmares more than the cackle of Voldemort's laughter from now on)
ensued, and Severus's colleagues smiled in consent with what Lupin had
written.
"Well," said Dumbledore, "this next one is from Sibyll, this ought to be,
ah, interesting." His eyes swept over the parchment and he read, in a
surprisingly good imitation of Trelawney's misty voice (which he didn't
seem to realize he was using), "Whilst gazing into my orb, I was informed
that, though she may be in denial of the powers of The Divine, Minerva
McGonagall has lived a good life, in accordance with what has been written
for her in the stars.' Well... Snaps for Minerva! That's quite an
accomplishment!" Half-hearted snaps filled the room as the staff exchanged
looks of exasperation and confusion.
After several more slips of parchment were read and snapped over, the
inevitable happened, and Severus's "compliment" was reached. "And here,"
Dumbledore exclaimed jubilantly, "is what we've all been waiting for:
Severus's compliment for Minerva!" McGonagall's eyes narrowed into slits,
snake-like and dangerous. They bore painfully into Severus's, and he looked
away quickly, beginning to wish he'd actually written something nice. It
was to late now, though. Dumbledore unfolded the parchment and began to
read, letting Severus's words out into the painfully still air, like some
sort of hairy beast being released out into a quiet night.
"Severus says," said Dumbledore, "'what I like best about Minerva is that
when she is with Albus, she makes him look even younger than he did when I
was a Hogwarts student.' Now isn't that nice? Snaps for Minerva!"
The look of indignation on McGonagall's face should have made it all worth
it, but somehow it didn't. As soon as this was over, Severus knew,
McGonagall would make him pay. Severus squirmed uncomfortably in his seat
as McGonagall's glare cut through him like a laser. 'At least she won't
kill me', thought Severus. 'I'm to useful to The Order to spare.'
"Well," said Dumbledore, "that's all for Minerva. Let's all give her one
last big round of snaps!" Everyone snapped, including Severus, though it
made his head ache. Snapping for her might ensure that some of his health
may stay intact later. "And I believe," said Dumbledore, "that we only have
one more person to snap for." And the wizard's crooked nose and sparkling
blue eyes turned toward Severus.
For the first time since his days as a real Death Eater, the sight of the
headmaster's warm smile induced nothing but guilt, fear, and shear panic in
Severus. "It is time," said Dumbledore, "to snap for Severus!"
Severus's stomach clenched in dread at the sight of the looks of sadistic
pleasure on his colleagues' faces. Now he was regretting all the things
he'd said. Fear for his own pride and safety seemed to be the only thing
that could instill remorse in the potions professor these days.
Severus was surprised to see that in the sea of leering faces before him,
none looked quite so alarming as that of Remus Lupin. The look on his face
was one that he had quite frequently seen on the faces of the late James
Potter and Sirius Black, but had never marred the usually pleasant features
of their more timid compatriot. It was a look that sent chills of dread,
embarrassment, and fear down Severus's spine, the likes of which he hadn't
felt since his fifth year when Potter had strung him upside down from a
tree. It was a look of vindictive pleasure that now stared out at him from
Lupin's lined face, a look that quite clearly said "Oh, Snivellus, I am
going to kick your ass."