By the time his Fourth Years departed from the dungeons on Wednesday, Severus was wishing he'd taken his own advice to the students and found his bed by 1 am. As he stifled a yawn, he also stifled a thought that he was getting too old to be staying up past three and then getting up in time to face his first class by eight. He knew he'd done this often when he was younger, but somehow, just now, it seemed the essence of torture to him. He was glad this next period was his 'planning' period. He planned to sleep through it.

As soon as the last student was gone, Severus stalked into his office, shut the door firmly, and lowered his head onto the pile of texts on his desk, not even bothering to clear the surface. His eyes drifted shut almost immediately. He had no way of knowing how long he dozed when he became aware of a faint rapping at the door, and, scrubbing a hand over his face and stifling a yawn, he glanced at the clock. He had twenty minutes before his next class arrived, and tried to ignore the persistent tapping, but could not.

""'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door This it is, and nothing more,"" he recited softly, hauling himself to his feet with great effort and wondering faintly if he would open the door to find a raven flitting inside. When he opened his door, though, it was no raven, but an owl, with a note wrapped about her leg. She hooted softly, fluttering to his shoulder and offering her leg. "And I suppose this couldn't have waited another fifteen minutes," he muttered as he removed the note. She hooted in affirmation, then took off again, her wings brushing against his face as she took flight out of the dungeons.

Severus opened the note and shook his head at it.

Dear Severus,

I was hoping you'd be amenable to the idea of joining me for dinner this evening. I apologize for using the owl, but I realized very suddenly that I haven't the slightest idea where you are or how to get in touch with you, and I rather miss seeing you.

Autumn.

Severus shook his head and moved back to his desk, opening a drawer and dropping the note in it. He'd reply later. With another yawn, he settled his head onto his arms again and closed his eyes. This time, though, he didn't even find sleep before he was interrupted, by a knocking at the door that was a little less raven-like and much more…

"Enter!" he called. The door opened.

…much more House Elf-like. "Lissy is being sent to give a letter to Master Snape," she squeaked, and Severus lowered his head to his arm again, flicking his fingers at the elf to indicate she should come forward. She scurried to place the envelope in his hand, and then paused. "Is Master Snape be needing anything else?" she asked. "Is Master Snape be feeling poorly?"

"I'm fine," he replied, almost automatically. "You may go, Lissy. Thank you." Though polite, it was a pointed dismissal, and Lissy knew her place. She skittered out the door again, and Severus let the note hang between his fingers for a long moment before he finally forced himself to sit up and slide a finger under the seal. The red wax popped up, and he unfolded the parchment, and, seeing nothing on it, took another look at the seal. Dumbledore. With a sigh, Severus reached into his desk drawer and removed his wand, touching the tip to the parchment. "Aperio," he murmured, and Dumbledore's script appeared on the page.

We will gather this evening at eight in the usual place. There is much to discuss. I would appreciate your presence.

AD

"Aduro," Snape murmured, and the corner of the parchment burst into flame. Severus held it until the fire grew uncomfortably hot on his fingers, then let go of it; the parchment had disintegrated into ash before it hit the ground.

Another glance at his clock told him he had twelve minutes now (bloody hell, when was the last time he was so specific about how much time he had until a class? Likely not since he was a student.) and he was pondering whether that was going to be enough time to fall asleep when another tapping at his door brought him to his feet.

A fourth 'urgent' owl, and if this was another invitation to dinner or… He flicked it open, and his scowl darkened by degrees as he read it.

Severus,

Molly Firecalled this morning and said she would fix dinner for us tonight, so if you like, why don't you come about two hours early? She said she'd bake a cake if you'll come.

RJL

"Urgent owls about dinner plans," he muttered under his breath, dropping that missive in his desk drawer as well. A glance at the clock told him he now had nine minutes, and, with a defeated sigh, he straightened and ran his hands through his hair. With a yawn, he reached into his desk drawer and withdrew the parchment that had arrived from Lucius, looking it over for a minute before opening it, almost dreading what Malfoy had up his sleeve now.

Dear Friend and Fellow Slytherin!

You are cordially invited to a gathering at the Malfoy Manor from Friday, June 10th through Sunday, June 12th. Narcissa and I are pleased to announce that, in light of the merriment of a recent impromptu reunion, we have decided to see it an annual and organized occurrence.

This invitation is being extended to all Slytherins, past and present, and we look forward to hearing from you.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy

The RSVP cards were also enclosed, as well as the envelope to send it back to them, and Severus simply shook his head. A Slytherin reunion. He could already imagine what that was going to entail. A Slytherin reunion which, if he read correctly, was also going to include the students. A soft chuckle escaped his lips at the thought of two hundred children running around the Malfoy Manor, and he made a silent bet as to whether the children would be invited the next year—if it was, indeed, to become an annual event.

Sighing, he dropped the invitation back into his drawer. He'd respond to it later, though he doubted it was really necessary. Lucius, after all, would simply expect him to be present, and Severus quite seriously doubted that there was anything short of death that would convince Malfoy he couldn't come. After all, he was Head of Slytherin, one of Lucius' old classmates, somewhat beholden still to the patrician Malfoy for his role in seeing that an awkward young Severus was able to move in the proper circles without offending or embarrassing anyone. And besides, Lucius probably knew as well as anyone that there was nothing except his books to occupy Severus' time in the summer, and books would wait, in Malfoy's eyes.

"And why not?" Severus asked softly, leaning back against his chair. He had to admit that last night had been… enjoyable on some level. Disturbing, of course, and a painfully poignant reminder of the past, but it was so seldom he had the pleasure of adult company that was not laced with any other business. It had been no Death Eater meeting, and no Order meeting, and no Staff meeting last night. Of course they'd discussed politics. Along with Quidditch, the weather, reminiscences and gossip (though Lucius maintained, quite laughably, that he did not gossip). It was as though, for four hours, they were all simply pretending to be human, and humans with something in common in their past.

His stomach suddenly lurched. Of course there were other reasons for this gathering. It was so easy to associate Slytherin with the Death Eaters that it was quite easy to forget that, in reality, there were relatively few Death Eaters to the numbers of Slytherins through the years. Everyone in Lucius year, and the two years prior and the two years following, either was or had been a Death Eater, but they were all. After the Dark Lord was defeated, there had been fifteen years worth of Slytherins who, while sharing the same prejudices that Slytherins had through the centuries, been no more evil than… Well, than McGonagall really. Everyone was entitled to their opinions, even if the opinion was distasteful.

Those just a little younger than Severus would not likely remember the horrors of the Dark Lord's rise to power. They would not remember the fear, the death of innocents, the division of their world into two irreconcilable sides. And they were poised to move into positions of power in the world. Young adults, Bill's age, mostly. They needed… They needed to turn back time so Lucius and the others could be executed. Not imprisoned. He would have to make that clear to Dumbledore, that this time, the Death Eaters would have to be executed. Himself included, if that was what it took. This party of Malfoy's… it was nothing more than a grand recruiting party, and with, in Severus' estimation, a thousand Slytherins of various ages to choose from. Three thousand being a low estimate, of course. If all the living Slytherins actually attended that number would easily double. Of course, it was not the ones of advanced age who were to be worried about, generally, with age came a degree of wisdom, after all. It was those caught up in the passion of youth who were at a risk.

The bell announcing the beginning of the next class startled Severus out of his reverie, and he stormed out of his office, pointing his wand at the dungeon doors so they creaked open to admit the students. His Sixth Year NEWT class, which would be creating a Sublatum Serum.

"Quiet," he said in a warning tone, though it was hardly necessary as he made his way to the front of the classroom. When he reached his desk, he pointed his wand at the doors again and they banged shut with an air of finality that made several students jump. "I presume that you have all done your assigned reading?" There were no protests, though Severus rather seriously doubted any of the students would actually be stupid enough to admit to not having read the assigned material. "Are there any questions?" He schooled his features to what passed for approachable; he knew that his students were terrified of him, and that served a purpose, but he was always marginally afraid they weren't asking him questions because they feared his reaction. As was so often the case, no one offered any questions.

"Well," he said briskly, "then it should come as no surprise to you all that we will be making a Sublatum Serum today. And a Sublatum Serum is… Mr. Malfoy?"

Severus didn't know why Malfoy was in his class. He couldn't imagine the boy doing anything other than following in his fathers footsteps in the Ministry, for which he most decidedly did not need advanced potions. In fact, all he really needed was his father's name. Still, Malfoy at least put forth the effort for class, and if he was an arrogant little snot, at least he was quite honestly there by choice. Something Severus could say for few of his students. Most of them were there because it was an evil they must endure for their chosen fields in Medicine and Aurory.

"Sublatum Serum is a potion which levitates objects. It is, in essence, the chemical form of Wingardium Leviosa."

"Ten points to Slytherin." Severus had been slowly working through the common spells the students had learned in their first and second years, and he hoped at least some of the more astute ones were learning that there were few charms that could not be duplicated with a potion. "And, I presume you have all completed your homework? Pass it forward then, quietly." He watched as the faint shuffle of scrolls being passed forward rose like butterflies on a breeze. When the scrolls had reached the inner aisles, students began passing them forward until they reached the baskets in front of the first row of desks.

Severus' eyes locked onto Harry's, and he suddenly delved into the boy's mind. Harry scowled at him, obviously knowing he was there, and Severus found himself deflected away from a memory of Harry and Ron browbeating Hermione into letting them copy off her homework. Smirking, Severus turned away from him. "Someone tell me, then, given the nature of the potion we will be brewing, the purpose of each of these ingredients," he pointed his wand at the blackboard and a list of ingredients appeared. He moved to lean against his desk, folding his arms across his chest, his wand still clutched in his right hand. "Mr. Potter," he honed in on the Boy Who Lived, pointing with his wand, "choose one of the ingredients and tell me why it is there."

Potter frowned and studied the board for a minute. "The Billywig stings," he said finally, "they are active ingredients because a Billywig sting causes people to float." Severus delved suddenly into Potter's mind again, and, as expected, he saw the scene at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, though it was Potter flicking Billywigs into a jar. He lingered for a moment, chasing one memory and then another, trying to find any indication of where the memory was taking place, but all he could see was the darkened room full of Billywigs. And then suddenly it was a scene of two men, a boy, a girl and a woman floating in the air with a table laid out for tea.

"Very good, Mr. Potter," Severus breathed softly. "Ten points to Gryffindor." There was a gasp and a murmur through the room; Professor Snape never awarded points to any house except Slytherin, and he usually found reasons to take them away from Gryffindor if Harry was within a ten mile radius. Severus' eyes held Potter's for another moment before he turned away, making sure that Harry knew that the points were for his success at Occlumency rather than the correct answer.

"Miss Parkinson," Severus glanced at Pansy. "Another of the ingredients."

"The water is a non-active ingredient," she replied promptly, and Severus nearly shook his head. Leave it to Pansy to point out the most obvious ones.

"Correct. Five points to Slytherin. Miss Granger?"

"The Alihotsy leaves are a catalytic ingredient, which activate the Billywig stings. The hysteria-inducing properties of Alihotsy are enough to simulate the laughter of the Billywigs."

Severus scowled. Such a show-off and know-it-all. Reminded him of Black who could never keep his knowledge to himself either. "Correct. Mr. Lowry?"

One by one, he called on the students until they'd correctly identified half the ingredients' purposes. Enough for Severus' purposes at the present, as this was really Seventh Year material anyway. He flicked his wand at the board and the rest of the instructions appeared, and then he pointed his wand at the cabinets on the wall, and the doors swung open, revealing the required ingredients. "Begin," he told them simply, and returned to his desk, seating himself so that he could supervise the class from this vantage point that allowed him to view all areas of the room at once.

Twice Severus found himself on the verge of nodding off, and both times he reawakened with a start. Of all the disastrous things he could think of to do, he could not imagine the consequences of falling asleep while a group of Sixth Years was attempting to brew a potion of a reasonable degree of complexity. Which is exactly what this potion was. Reasonably complex, with several places that would allow the students to regally muck it up. Standing, he stifled a yawn and began making a round of the classroom.

"You should be adding your Alihotsy leaves now," he announced in a clear voice that, while loud enough to carry over the din of the work, was still soft. He saw several students glance quickly at the board and then frown at their cauldrons, their Alihotsy still on the table beside them. Good, he thought as he passed a pair of Hufflepuffs. They were behind, but had not yet reached the critical portion of the potion, which he'd indicated with a green line, so, while lagging a bit, there was no need to rush. Adding the Alihotsy too soon would render it useless, as the mixture had to simmer to the proper consistency before adding the Billywig stings, and if the Alihotsy simmered too long, the delicate leaves would disintegrate.

He paused at a Ravenclaw cauldron and peered inside, then peered into the faces of the two students. Padma Patil and Lisa Turpin peered back, both seeming to hold their breath. "What color is the vapor supposed to be, Miss Turpin?" he asked softly, and she swallowed, her eyes cutting to the board very quickly, then back to his face.

"Blue," she replied confidently.

Padma continued her slow, even stirring, and Severus nodded. A thin, wispy, pale blue haze was beginning to curl from the mouth of the cauldron. "Indeed," he murmured softly, then raised his voice again. "Ten points to Ravenclaw, for what appears to be the most perfect mixture to this point that I have seen in a student's cauldron." Padma and Lisa exchanged elated looks, and Severus heard a mutter from behind him.

"Snape must be in a good mood. First Gryffindor, now Ravenclaw."

The comment seemed innocuous enough, so he pretended not to hear it. He did, however, lower his voice again. "Keep up the good work, ladies," he suggested quietly. "I will take those points away and more besides if you spoil your potion now." He stalked over to the Slytherin tables, leaving Padma and Lisa gaping after him, and peered into the cauldron Pansy Parkinson shared with Draco Malfoy.

After watching for a moment, he reached for the glass rod Pansy was using to stir and stirred the brew himself for a moment, then, when satisfied of the consistency, returned the rod to her. "Are your stings ready?" he asked, reaching to the end of the table and drawing a stool around so he could sit.

Draco nodded, and Severus waved his fingers slightly at him, indicating it was time for the stings. As Draco added them, one at a time with a pair of silver forceps, Severus peered at the surface of the potion. It bubbled nicely as the stings were added. A moment later, the entire contents were beginning to turn a much more brilliant shade of blue, glimmering with a touch of green.

"How did you know it was time for the stings, sir?" Pansy asked, looking up at him as she stirred. "The instructions said five minutes, and it had only been four."

"Then you cauldron is too hot," Severus replied, bending to peer at the flames. He pointed at the bulbous edge with his wand. "Reduce the flames to there," he advised. "And I know because I've been brewing potions since your father was still in school."

Standing, Severus moved his stool back to the end of the table and walked briskly across the room again, then stopped abruptly at the table Hermione was sharing with Neville Longbottom. How Longbottom had scraped the Outstanding on the Potions OWL, Severus would never know, nor would he ever know how the idiot boy hoped to become an Auror. But, where there was a will, he supposed there was a way. The way he was going to pass this class was with the aid of one Hermione Granger. Peering into the cauldron, Severus noted the softly shimmering surface of the liquid and nodded at the wisps of bright blue that were swirling over the edge. The vapors were not so pale as the ones Padma and Lisa had coaxed from their cauldron, but they would suffice to indicate that the potion Hermione and Neville (well, mostly Hermione most likely) were brewing would be a success. "Add another sting, Mr. Longbottom," Severus suggested softly, pushing one from the pile with the tip of his wand.

It was enough to incite Severus' temper that Neville looked at Hermione before doing as he was told, but at least Hermione had the sense nod fervently and gesture at him under the table. Neville took a deep breath and added another Billywig sting, and the cauldron hissed slightly, then the smoke paled substantially. After a moment's watching the potion, Severus turned to Neville and folded his arms, looking over the two students. "Since you seem so much more inclined to follow Miss Granger's instructions than mine, Mr. Longbottom, you have earned her a detention."

"But!"

Severus held up a hand to silence Hermione's protest, and then bent over Neville. "So that I may assure myself that she knows the material adequately to teach the next lesson. You, Mr. Longbottom, will also serve detention, where we will practice the fine art of obedience. Six o'clock tomorrow, Miss Granger. Mr. Longbottom, seven o'clock." Severus whirled away, feeling only a slight pang of conscience at the undeserved detention for Hermione. He needed to ask her about Amber, though. "Oh, and I believe that's twenty points from Gryffindor," he added as an afterthought, glancing over his shoulder. "Ten points for the disobedience, Mr. Longbottom, and ten points, Miss Granger, for backtalk." Hermione fumed silently. Severus ignored her and turned to the cauldron Harry and Ron were sharing.

He no more than looked inside before he jerked his head back unwittingly, his eyes watering slightly as he stared at the two Gryffindors. "What is that, Mr. Potter?" he asked in a dangerous voice, stepping back and pointing with his wand.

"Sublatum Serum?" Harry suggested, and Ron snickered. Severus shot Weasley a quelling look until the red-haired boy gulped his laughter back down.

"Tell me, Mr. Potter, what color is a Sublatum Serum?"

"Blue, sir."

"Mr. Weasley, what color is the mixture in Miss Granger's and Mr. Longbottom's cauldron?"

"Blue, sir."

"Mr. Potter, what color is the mixture in Mr. Malfoy's and Miss Parkinson's cauldron?"

"Blue, sir."

"Mr. Weasley, what color is the mixture in Miss Patil's and Miss Turpin's cauldron?"

"Blue, sir."

"Mr. Potter, what color is the mixture in Miss Bones' and Mr. Hopkins' cauldron?"

"Blue, sir." Harry was beginning to sound exasperated.

Good, Severus thought irritably. It's his turn to be irritated for a change. "And what color, pray tell, is that, Mr. Weasley?" Severus asked, pointing at the cauldron with his wand.

Ron sighed heavily. "Yellow, sir."

"Yellow." Severus folded his arms and looked at the two boys. It would really serve them right if he left them to their concoction, but he wasn't going to. "How many Alihotsy leaves did you add?"

The two boys exchanged glances, and Severus scowled. The idiots didn't even know. They'd added leaves, and they had no idea how many they'd put in their cauldron. And these are the boys we're trusting as adults in the Order, Severus thought distantly as he leaned forward, his hands braced on the table, bringing his nose within inches of Harry's.

"Did you add the leaves, Mr. Potter?" he asked softly, nodding, and Harry began nodding miserably as well.

"Did you add leaves as well, Mr. Weasley?" he asked, turning his attention to Ron, who was white-faced under his freckles and nodding also.

"So you both added Alihotsy leaves. Did you both add Billywig stings?"

Harry looked at Ron, who shook his head, wide eyed. "No, sir," Harry replied, looking like he wished the floor would open up and swallow him.

"Did either of you add Billywig stings?"

Harry looked positively miserable. "No, sir," he whispered.

Severus straightened suddenly and pointed his wand at the cauldron. "Evanesco!" he barked, and the potion disappeared. "Detention," he hissed, pointing his wand at Potter first, then at Weasley. "Both of you. You will be redoing this potion on Saturday."

"But sir! It's a Hogsmeade weekend!"

Severus' eyes narrowed. "I daresay you are more in need of a decent mark this term than another bag full of goodies from Honeydukes," he told them in a deadly voice. "And neither of you has any room to protest, given that you were too busy talking to follow the directions that were clearly written on the board!"

Severus turned on his heel and was halfway across the dungeon before he heard the unmistakable sound of Harry's voice. "Asshole."

His eyes widened for a moment, and Severus took a deep breath, counting slowly to ten and then reciting the alphabet backwards before he turned abruptly, walking across the room once more. Harry's eyes widened as Severus drew nearer, but he breathed an audible sigh of relief when Severus passed his table and stalked, instead, to a book shelf against the wall. Severus reached for a book with sure hands and plucked it from the shelf, holding the spine against his arm and flipping through the pages as he returned to stand in front of Potter and Weasley. He dropped the book on their table with enough force to rattle their phials.

"Read the ingredients for the Singultus Potion, Mr. Potter. Aloud."

Harry looked at the potion, and frowned, but began reading in a shaky voice. "Alihotsy leaves, water, essence of wormwood, powdered hickory nut, daisy roots, crushed prune seeds, blue-jay blood, grape seed oil and bluebell petals."

"Now, read the ingredients on the board for the Sublatum Serum," Severus prompted, his eyes beads of obsidian and focused unwaveringly on Potter's face.

"Alihotsy leaves, water, essence of wormwood, powdered hickory nut, Billywig stings, daisy roots, crushed prune seeds, blue-jay blood, grape seed oil and bluebell petals."

"What ingredient is missing from the Singultus Potion which is present in the Sublatum Serum, Mr. Potter?"

"Billywig stings," Potter said miserably.

"And what is the quantity of Alihotsy leaves in the Singultus Potion compared to the Sublatum Serum?"

Harry looked at the book, then looked at the board and sighed, sitting back. "Double, sir."

"And what color is the Singultus Potion, Mr. Potter?"

"Yellow." Harry had his eyes closed.

"So, if you and your partner each added Alihotsy leaves, and neither of you added Billywig stings, and the potion was yellow, what is a logical conclusion?"

"That we messed up, sir," Harry replied evenly.

Severus leaned forward, his hands on the table again, and he jabbed at the book. "That you made which potion instead, Mr. Potter?"

"The Singultus Potion, sir."

"Mr. Weasley," Severus shoved the book at Ron, not looking away from Harry for a moment. "Read the description of the Singultus Potion for the class."

Ron took the book and swallowed audibly, but Severus did not look at him. "The Singultus Potion is a powerful…" he paused, and Severus shot him a withering look. "A powerful poison. The fumes alone are deadly after as little as fifteen minutes exposure. Inhaling the fumes will cause erosion of the throat, and the victim will drown in his or her own blood." Each word was increasingly soft. Harry looked horrified, as though he were about to cry. Severus cut a glance to Ron, lifted an eyebrow and gestured at the book. Ron licked his lips and continued. "There is no record of anyone surviving more than half an hour exposure to the fumes. Ingested, the potion causes severe stomach cramps, and dissolves the internal organs, beginning with the stomach, and then liquefying the intestines and pancreas. The death is quite prolonged and painful, but it is seldom the poison itself which kills the victim. In most documented cases, the victim will begin to suffer seizures of such magnitude that the neck snaps."

There were tears in Harry's eyes now, and Ron's voice was shaking. Most of the other sounds in the room had faded to almost nothing, only the faint bubbling of liquid in cauldrons and the slow, methodical scraping of glass rods against pewter. "Continue, Mr. Weasley," Severus ordered.

Ron's voice shook even more as he continued reading. "The Singultus Potion is the deadliest legal substance in the wizarding community. As all the ingredients are common, it remains legal despite numerous attempts by citizens' groups to have it declared a controlled substance. The only known antidote must be administered within thirty minutes of ingesting the poison, and even then, there is only a fifty percent rate of survival. Death from the Singultus Potion usually takes between sixteen hours and two days."

There was utter silence. Severus stood abruptly and picked up the book again, shutting it was a snap and stalking back to the bookshelf, shoving it back into place. He turned to look at the class again. Every one of his students was subdued, including the Slytherins who would normally miss no chance to make fun of the Gryffindors for their mistakes.

"Is it clear to you now, Potter?" Severus asked softly. "Do you understand, Mr. Weasley? Mr. Longbottom? Miss Granger? Miss Patil? Miss Turpin?" He looked at each of his students as he named them. "Have I made it real to you, Mr. Malfoy? Miss Parkinson? Miss Bones? Mr. Hopkins?" He crossed the room in three steps and regarded them all for a moment before returning his gaze to Harry and Ron. "This is not a form of amusement," he said in a voice like snow. "This is not the creation of a stew, where the only price of failure is an inedible end result. It is crucial that you follow instructions, Mr. Potter. It is imperative that you pay attention, Mr. Weasley. Often, what separates a benign potion from a deadly one is a careless mistake, such as doubling the Alihotsy leaves and leaving out the Billywig stings."

He narrowed his eyes and his focus further, taking Potter in carefully. "I am not in the habit of explaining myself to anyone, least of all students. But I hope you have benefited from this departure from the norm. Now, get out of my classroom." He pointed at the door, and Harry traded looks with Ron, and both of them gathered their things and left quietly. "The rest of you, you should be finishing up. When you have completed your potion, bottle a sample of it, and bring it to my desk. And label it. We will test them in class next time, after they've had time to cure."

Severus returned to his desk and sat, watching the class carefully. Why did he feel such a need to explain himself suddenly? To defend his actions? He was the teacher, the Potions Master, and Harry and Ron were his students, and that should be enough to explain anything he did. And why hadn't he doubled Harry's detention for calling him an asshole? Why did he care, anyway? And why in the name of Merlin's beard could those two not pay attention just once?

Severus ripped a piece of parchment from his desk drawer and tore it in half. He quickly penned two notes—one to Autumn and one to Lupin, declining both invitations to dinner. He was very suddenly not hungry at all.