Chpt14: Curtains Up.
Snape had waited for at least twenty minutes, listening to the steady thump of her heart, as he pondered whether or not she would decide to sneak away undetected, hating herself for being so stupid as to return to him. Strangely enough, she did not, but simply lay there, twisting his hair through her fingers. She had been watching the sky, that much seemed evident. Snape tried to picture her face as she watched the last tendrils of the acrid smog dissolving into wisps of forgotten cloud that drifted across the sky. He had done that many times before, intrigued at the complex patterns that appeared in the sky as the mists disappeared. Maybe he should have made it evident that he had awoken. As he debated whether or not to divulge himself, he felt her weight shift towards him, her thick hair tickling his skin as she spoke. "Severus?" Her voice was soft and cautious, her hands weaving into his hair, her lips planting a modest kiss on his forehead. So, she had known all this time, then. Somehow, he could not bring himself to be surprised. Her omniscience was astounding, if not anticipated. He glanced up, smiling shrewdly. "Yes?" His hair was a mess, yes, he knew that. She, however, had no excuse to find his current state so incredibly amusing. He arched an eyebrow in response, and she began to speak. "Er.I..erm.I need to go." she stammered, before pausing, clearly trying to find a reasonable defence. He saved her the bother, and nodded reassuringly. "I'm a man of my word, you know." The relief that spread over her face was visible for the split second before it had vanished, and he tried to hide his amusement. She smiled, and leaned in to kiss him again. Surely, he thought, if there is a heaven. Unsurprisingly, Snape lost that particular chain of thought. ~*~*~*~ The next day was Friday.
Friday. The only accursed day that would dare to separate Thursday from Saturday. Understandably, when the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins languorously strolled into the potions classroom as though they didn't have a care in the world, it was his honourable duty as Potions Master to reprimand their indecent behaviour. Following ten minutes of lecturing them on the correct way to enter a Hogwarts classroom, he finally allowed himself to continue with the lesson. "Today," he began, "we will begin to make Polyjuice Potion. I shall expect you to continue to work on this project during the Christmas holidays, as you will all, undoubtedly wish to stay during this Winter break. Those who do not remain will take their cauldrons home and complete the work there." Glancing over the faces of his class, he noted that fear was the most prominent expression. Good. Finnigan, Thomas, Parkinson (as great a dunderhead as could possibly be found in Slytherin house), and.Longbottom. Of course. In his seven years at Hogwarts Longbottom had never managed to even come within close proximity of the dungeons without grimacing and running the other way. Snape glanced to the right, spotting the Granger Know-it-All, her faithful entourage humbly seated behind her, looking reasonably uncomfortable, with a shade of mild confidence that irked him beyond belief. "Potter!" he growled venomously. "What are the properties of a successful Polyjuice potion?" Harry met Snape's glare and calmly began to speak, building the image of that infamous page of five years ago in his mind. "It transforms you into somebody else for an hour."
"And the ingredients involved are." Snape motioned him to continue. Words began to form on the page, methods and directions on a sheet surrounded by drawings of people as they morphed into others. "Lacewing flies," he began, confidently, "leeches, fluxweed, knotgrass." Harry could still hear Hermione reading the list as they huddled inside the toilet cubicle. ".Powdered horn of Bicorn, shredded skin of Boomslang, and a piece of whoever you want to change into." Snape was obviously trying to hide the fact that he was impressed, and looked around the class. "Well? WHY AREN'T ALL YOU WRITING THIS DOWN?!!!" he shouted, his voice resounding against the walls as the class shuffled around, trying to locate their quills. // Of course, // he thought, // After their little escapade during their second year, the Dream Team would know about Polyjuice, wouldn't they? // His glance returning to Hermione and Neville, he sneered. "Mr Longbottom," he began, relishing the fact that the boy was almost whimpering in dismay, "it had been my intention to partner you with Miss Bullstrode for this lesson." He paused. "It has come to my attention, however, that today, even you may be of some use." Neville blanched, his eyes wide, and, still sneering, Snape glanced across at Hermione. "Please insure that Miss Granger does not err in the production of this potion by turning herself into any sort of feral being." Oh, what fun he was having! Eyes still fixed on Hermione, he continued. "Much as it sickens me to say this, by the end of this lesson I hope to see not one, but two Longbottoms at this desk.and not a single cat." He stepped away, before stopping and turning slightly to face Neville again. "Do not, however, have any delusions that your potion will not be tested today, Longbottom." A final sneer, and he withdrew, congratulating himself on a good day's work.
Snape had waited for at least twenty minutes, listening to the steady thump of her heart, as he pondered whether or not she would decide to sneak away undetected, hating herself for being so stupid as to return to him. Strangely enough, she did not, but simply lay there, twisting his hair through her fingers. She had been watching the sky, that much seemed evident. Snape tried to picture her face as she watched the last tendrils of the acrid smog dissolving into wisps of forgotten cloud that drifted across the sky. He had done that many times before, intrigued at the complex patterns that appeared in the sky as the mists disappeared. Maybe he should have made it evident that he had awoken. As he debated whether or not to divulge himself, he felt her weight shift towards him, her thick hair tickling his skin as she spoke. "Severus?" Her voice was soft and cautious, her hands weaving into his hair, her lips planting a modest kiss on his forehead. So, she had known all this time, then. Somehow, he could not bring himself to be surprised. Her omniscience was astounding, if not anticipated. He glanced up, smiling shrewdly. "Yes?" His hair was a mess, yes, he knew that. She, however, had no excuse to find his current state so incredibly amusing. He arched an eyebrow in response, and she began to speak. "Er.I..erm.I need to go." she stammered, before pausing, clearly trying to find a reasonable defence. He saved her the bother, and nodded reassuringly. "I'm a man of my word, you know." The relief that spread over her face was visible for the split second before it had vanished, and he tried to hide his amusement. She smiled, and leaned in to kiss him again. Surely, he thought, if there is a heaven. Unsurprisingly, Snape lost that particular chain of thought. ~*~*~*~ The next day was Friday.
Friday. The only accursed day that would dare to separate Thursday from Saturday. Understandably, when the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins languorously strolled into the potions classroom as though they didn't have a care in the world, it was his honourable duty as Potions Master to reprimand their indecent behaviour. Following ten minutes of lecturing them on the correct way to enter a Hogwarts classroom, he finally allowed himself to continue with the lesson. "Today," he began, "we will begin to make Polyjuice Potion. I shall expect you to continue to work on this project during the Christmas holidays, as you will all, undoubtedly wish to stay during this Winter break. Those who do not remain will take their cauldrons home and complete the work there." Glancing over the faces of his class, he noted that fear was the most prominent expression. Good. Finnigan, Thomas, Parkinson (as great a dunderhead as could possibly be found in Slytherin house), and.Longbottom. Of course. In his seven years at Hogwarts Longbottom had never managed to even come within close proximity of the dungeons without grimacing and running the other way. Snape glanced to the right, spotting the Granger Know-it-All, her faithful entourage humbly seated behind her, looking reasonably uncomfortable, with a shade of mild confidence that irked him beyond belief. "Potter!" he growled venomously. "What are the properties of a successful Polyjuice potion?" Harry met Snape's glare and calmly began to speak, building the image of that infamous page of five years ago in his mind. "It transforms you into somebody else for an hour."
"And the ingredients involved are." Snape motioned him to continue. Words began to form on the page, methods and directions on a sheet surrounded by drawings of people as they morphed into others. "Lacewing flies," he began, confidently, "leeches, fluxweed, knotgrass." Harry could still hear Hermione reading the list as they huddled inside the toilet cubicle. ".Powdered horn of Bicorn, shredded skin of Boomslang, and a piece of whoever you want to change into." Snape was obviously trying to hide the fact that he was impressed, and looked around the class. "Well? WHY AREN'T ALL YOU WRITING THIS DOWN?!!!" he shouted, his voice resounding against the walls as the class shuffled around, trying to locate their quills. // Of course, // he thought, // After their little escapade during their second year, the Dream Team would know about Polyjuice, wouldn't they? // His glance returning to Hermione and Neville, he sneered. "Mr Longbottom," he began, relishing the fact that the boy was almost whimpering in dismay, "it had been my intention to partner you with Miss Bullstrode for this lesson." He paused. "It has come to my attention, however, that today, even you may be of some use." Neville blanched, his eyes wide, and, still sneering, Snape glanced across at Hermione. "Please insure that Miss Granger does not err in the production of this potion by turning herself into any sort of feral being." Oh, what fun he was having! Eyes still fixed on Hermione, he continued. "Much as it sickens me to say this, by the end of this lesson I hope to see not one, but two Longbottoms at this desk.and not a single cat." He stepped away, before stopping and turning slightly to face Neville again. "Do not, however, have any delusions that your potion will not be tested today, Longbottom." A final sneer, and he withdrew, congratulating himself on a good day's work.