A/N: Chappie 2 Yea!
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Severus Snape's PoV
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Cold. Tired. Bounced out of bed onto dungeon floor. That was pretty much how the day began, mainly thanks to Minerva who wakes me up in the morning. Usually, Minerva McGonagall is a fair, cool-tempered woman. This morning, however, she saw fit to wake me by bouncing me around my dungeon, hitting first the stone ceiling, then the hard floor. She didn't stop until I screamed, "God, woman, I'm awake!" to which she replied, lowering her wand so I fell with a crash back onto the floor, "Cut out 'God', Severus, and stay where you're better acquainted."
She left rubbing a red mark on her cheek. I was about to ask what she had done to herself the night before, when the door slammed after her. Five minutes later, I rose lazily off the floor and began my morning routine. That consists of stubbing my toes, hitting my head on the stone headboard, thinking Slytherin-type thoughts, and overall getting myself in a bad mood. Things like that can take precision and careful planning when they are done on a daily basis.
The day went by slowly. Christmas carols were sung in the staff room. I could hear the cats shrieking in the hallways from the awful din. I made the mistake of attending that particular Yule tide activity in my first year of teaching. I now prefer not to damage the charms on my ear drums that allow me to hear now that my birth hearing has been permanently damaged from a particularly high note from Filius Flitwick.
They say that Albus Dumbledore is more stubborn that the rest of his staff combined. They say that if he doesn't want to listen to you, he simply won't. This is not true. It is just that the Headmaster attends the staff carol session every year, and his hearing just sort of breaks occasionally from the damage done by the non-existent singing talents of his beloved staff. Never say Albus Dumbledore is stubborn. He's just a softie, who can't always hear who he's "arguing" with.
The afternoon was satisfactory. I was able to take ten points from Ravenclaw, fifteen from Hufflpuff, and eighteen from Gryffindor. Christmas is an especially wonderful time to catch students in the hallways kissing under the mistletoe, which is, of course, against school policy. They never even notice I'm coming until it is too late. It also gives me a good idea on the level of rampaging hormones, which I was certain would prove extremely useful in the hours to pass during and after the Yule Ball that evening. They seemed to be extraordinarily high, even for Christmas, especially in the fourth and fifth years.
From six o'clock to seven forty-five was spent, as always, in my dungeon quarters. I was extremely unhappy to be disturbed by Albus Dumbledore himself at seven forty-six. Not only did he insist that I attend the accursed celebration, he also requested that I actually danced with at least one person. Me! Dancing! I hope that you are able to compute how physically and morally wrong that is! As soon as he left, I began preparing myself and trying not to panic. I was about to put on just another set of work robes, when I realized that no woman in her right mind would dance with a man who didn't even look like he wanted to be with her. For some odd reason, women just don't usually function that way. So, instead, to please the unfortunate creature I was doomed to dance with, and headmaster Dumbledore, I wore a slightly nicer set with a hint of silver trim (still black of course). I also decided to brush my hair, incase either the woman or I had sipped too much Christmas wine by the time we actually stepped onto the floor. I shuddered inwardly and prayed that that would not be the case.
It never takes me long to get ready for occasions like this. It would only take me five minutes to get ready in the mornings if only they were not so early, and I was not so tired. However, since this particular event took place at eight o'clock in the evening, I had no problem readying myself quickly and arriving in the Great Hall a full five minutes early. Whispers filled the hallways around the hall, and I was suddenly glad I had used the entrance behind the where the staff table was usually positioned. Very few, if any, students knew where this passage came from, though very few did not realize it existed. I was about to take to sit at a nearby table when I realized that the chair was reserved, in fact, the entire table had already been taken. I figured that we must have seating arrangements. Not the students of course, just the faculty as always. Dumbledore doesn't care where the students sit. He knows they all eventually separate into their respective houses, or most of them do anyway. Not the teachers. He has to know exactly where each one of us will be sitting so he can plan out his entire night's conversation with the employee closest to him two hours before hand. Dumbledore is not one for impromptu conversations. He always knows when he's going to receive a visitor, who it's going to be, and what they want to talk about. I will never understand how.
I finally found my seat at the last table I searched at. I only had one minute until the dreaded chimes by then, and I was positioned between a clomping, misshapen, paranoid freak who would probably never take his eye off of me, even when he was turned away, and my rival head of house. Joy. I quickly decided that I would dance the first dance, so as not to sit near them for the only time they would be off their feet (or in one case, wooden stump). I barely had anytime to concentrate on whom to dance with before the chimes struck eight and the teenage balls of hormonal energy flooded into the room. Mad-Eye took his place next to me, and immediately began talking to Sophia Sinistra (the conversation was slightly one-sided) I could feel his eye on me. She was very obviously distracted by that. She nodded uncertainly when he asked her (cautiously of course) for the first dance. Scratch her off my list of options. I began scouting the room before it was too late. There was, quite simply, not a chance that I would be dancing with anyone over the age of 70, which ruled out just about everyone. Minerva McGonagall was not quite 70 yet, and bubbly, loquacious Rosanne Sprout was turning that very age upcoming spring. I despise people who are loquacious, but bubbly? Don't even get me started. I resolved to ask Minerva, which was odd as I loathed the idea of sitting next to her for a single meal. Better her than anyone else I suppose, though. At least she could hold a decent conversation.
The champions arrived with their partners behind their transfigurations professor none too soon. Minerva, too, seemed quite ready to get the whole shindig over with and relax in her own rooms. She feigned enjoyment however when she reached the table. The woman has some amazing acting abilities. She can trick even the headmaster into thinking she's enjoying his rambling about muggle candies. I need to figure out where she learned that particular scam. She collapsed none too elegantly in her chair and immediately noticed the disgruntled look on my face. She smirked at me and feigned offense.
"I'm not that bad, am I, Severus?" It was all I could do to hide the smirk that was fighting to overtake my lips.
"It isn't you, Minerva," I had to result to using my professor voice so as to maintain normal conversation. I swear she was a drama queen as a teenager. I hate drama queens. They're the only people in the entire world, no universe, who manage to make me laugh. I had to think up a reason for my forced irritability, "I've got 'Mad-Eye' on my other side"
"I see." She paused for a minute, as though expecting me to respond. When I didn't she whispered, "He's watching you, isn't he?"
"Undoubtedly so." This time, the annoyance was not unnatural. It was true. I could still feel his damn eye on my back. I tried to ignore it by watching my plate. I could feel the hall growing restless, and there was no food on the dishes. I was about to turn to Minerva and ask I she knew what was going on, when I spotted a small menu next to my plate. Intrigued, I flipped through it carefully, and nearly jumped a foot high when Dumbledore shouted out "Pork Chops!" As if I had really wanted to know what he was going to eat. Then I realized that not everyone had seen the menu. Minerva was trying to control the flush of embarrassment rising in her cheeks as she picked up her own menu; Moody looked as though his was going to hex him. I started looking harder through mine, and realized I had never even heard of most of the names given to the items of, I guess you could call it food, but I'm not one hundred percent sure. After a minute of disgruntled searching for anything regular, I growled in frustration (literally.)
"Why does everything on this damn menu have to be foreign?" Minerva looked at me in shock.
"To please the guests, of course!" she said it as though it were obvious.
"Well, why don't we give them samples of our own dishes?" I said in the same tone she had used on me.
"Because, er," for a second, I thought that she did not have an explanation to that, when she leaned in close, her breath tickling my neck, "because Madame Maxime might throw a fit." She turned back toward the students, and I sighed with relief. I had been almost positive that she had been about to k… never mind.
A few minutes were allowed to pass in glorious silence. I still had to ask Minerva if she would dance as well. Now was as good a time as any, but how to word it. To just ask her would seem insensitive and rash. She'd probably guess what I was being forced to do. I'm sure she would have loved that. On the other hand, anything too romantic would have her escorting me to the hospital wing. I would have to be smooth, delicate, and seemingly apathetic. This would be difficult…
"Who are you planning on dancing with?" There, that sounded casual enough. However, Minerva looked at me as if it was the stupidest question I had ever asked her.
"Only men plan that sort of thing." She replied sourly. "Why do you ask? Am I on your list?" I hadn't been expecting her to ask that. I was just relieved she didn't realize how close she had come to a bull's eye.
"Er, no! Of course not!" she gave me a skeptical look that told me I'd tried to recover myself just a tad too quickly. "Well, if you want to be—" I stammered, still trying to recover my dignity, which was slowly wearing away. Thankfully, she didn't let me embarrass myself any further.
"Sure, Severus, That would be fine." I sighed in relief again. Women.
As soon as the food had vanished, we stood and watched the Weird Sisters walk up to the make-shift stage. I could see Minerva biting her tongue as her teacher-ness took over; I tapped her on the shoulder before she could yell at them. The students were horrible dancers. I was hardly surprised at Potter tripping over his own feet and Davies nearly bringing himself and his partner crashing to the floor numerous times. It took me a minute to realize other couples were beginning to waltz onto the floor (none too gracefully) and that it would be courteous for me to pay a little attention to my own partner. Not entirely sure what to do, I cautiously gave a small bow to Minerva and led her to the floor. She seemed much more relaxed than I was, and I struggled to maintain my usual demeanor. Dancing alone was not my thing. With a woman, it was a total catastrophe. Minerva seemed to have missed that memo however, and let me steer her around slowly.
"You don't dance often, do you?" She asked after a moment.
"Now what makes you think that?" I sneered, my voice drowned in sarcasm. I had expected her to mention the fact that my hands were sweating, or I was turning her in a tiny circle, or even that we had narrowly missed three couples, and the band had not even began the refrain (don't ask how I knew that).
"Your hands are on my shoulders, and it's not all that comfortable." She smirked at the surprised look in my eyes as I very carefully moved my hands down to her waist. "I won't slap you for something I asked you to do." She also replaced her hands, which had been on my hips for her own comfort, and rested them on my shoulders. I knew I was blushing. I just knew it. That was the closest I had been to a woman in, wait! You do not need to know that!
When the music ended, I found myself almost wishing for another. I said almost! I was certain Minerva was smiling at me as I pulled away. To avert her gaze, I looked upwards and noticed the most dangerous thing available on Christmas Day. That single innocent little plant that always seems to pop out when you least want it: Mistletoe. And Minerva was standing right underneath a bough. I knew I would regret this for years to come, but she would hate me for the rest of my life if I didn't save her, and she was stuck with only the students to free her (not that it wouldn't have been a humorous sight). Quickly I leaned over her and gave her a tiny peck on the cheek that made her turn her respective house color.
"Get out from under the mistletoe." I hissed urgently in her ear. She took the advice to heart and leapt out from underneath the dreaded plant as quickly as her robes would allow. I was about to ask Minerva for another (dance of course!) when Karkaroff snuck up behind us.
"Excuse me," he squeaked, "May I borrow Severus for a moment?" I hoped Minerva would object, but even if she had been about to, Karkaroff never gave her a chance before dragging me out the hall doors and into the maze of rosebushes that currently covered the grounds. Karkaroff apparently did not notice my foul mood, and if he did, he did not care on bit.
"You feel it too. I know you do! You must!" He whispered urgently. I chose to ignore him entirely and contented myself with blasting apart the rosebushes, imagining each one as his head (yes I do have an imagination). I refused to meet his eyes. "Don't ignore me, Severus!" Damn. "I know he is returning! What shall we do?"
"We?" I turned to him for the first time, "I know exactly what I will do, Igor. This is not my problem. I will return to him, as he expects me to, when I am able to locate his position." I can't trust anyone, especially not Karkaroff, who has betrayed enough Death Eaters to prove himself more dangerous as a traitor than a torturer.
"Quit denying who you work for. I know all about you and all your secrets."
"I am denying nothing." No matter how calm I was able to keep my voice, I was morally disturbed by the thought of Karkaroff knowing all of my secrets. "And I don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor."
"Severus you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" Karkaroff definitely sounded desperate now. At least he was trying his hardest to hush his voice. The man is not entirely stupid (though it is a close call); he does have enough sense to know that this particular subject would not reflect well on us if we were overheard. I concentrated even harder on my blasting. Why couldn't the man just leave me alone? "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it—"
"Then flee," I hissed, completely fed-up with his whining voice, "Flee—I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts." With a well-aimed blast here, I was able to produce a kissing couple from the bushes that was barely recognizable, but somehow I managed it. "Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett! And ten points from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!" I then noticed Potter and Weasley. Their presence meant trouble; their expressions told of eavesdropping. Wouldn't Minerva be pleased about what I had caught two of her prided pupils doing! "And what are you two doing?"
"We're walking." Typical Weasley bluntness. "Not against the law, is it?" I wanted to give him detention then and there, but restrained myself because Dumbledore would lecture me on the 'special circumstances applied at Christmas' later if I did.
"Keep walking then!" It was the best attempt I could come up with to limit their knowledge and their chances of learning more. Grudgingly, I watched them stalk off, before returning to rosebush blasting.
"Severus, please! You must help me!" Karkaroff continued as if the interruption had never happened.
"I have offered my assistance to you already! Take it or leave it!" I snarled. Instead of allowing him to reply however, I swept off down another path made for only one person. In the distance I could make out the deep voices of Hagrid and Madame Maxime. I quickly turned in the other direction. The next ten minutes were spent blasting more rosebushes and debating weather or not to return to the Great Hall and Minerva, who had certainly stopped dancing by now. I really don't mind the woman as much as I lead others to believe; she is a good conversationalist, if a bit childish sometimes. Surprisingly, most of the students in the bushes were Hufflepuffs. Almost all of the Gryffindors and my own Slytherins were still evidently inside. I was able to subtract a full forty points from the students in that one house, a new record for only ten minutes.
I finally did decide to return indoors, but the dance was over. Time had actually gone surprisingly quickly for the dread I had placed upon this event. Looking around the empty room, I saw the bow of mistletoe Minerva had accidentally been caught underneath. Making certain that no one was watching, I took the bough and placed it inside my robes, making a mental note to arrive early at the staff meeting the next morning in order to place it accordingly. I was certain to make Dumbledore sorry for making me dance. I slept peacefully that night.
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A/N Wow! I actually updated! Applause please!!! I'm so sorry for the huge wait, but I have had a very busy schedule, which included the lead in a play, a visit to the nation's capitol, Mardi Gras celebrations, four birthdays, Roman day preparations, and Block party plans. Don't blame me! Anyway, I should be back on track now, and I think it is the greatest feeling in the world!!! Please leave me a review if you have not died waiting for my next update!!! Thanks!
^-^ (meow!)