Chapter 8 – The Plot
"Not only did your joke backfire," prattled Peter Pettigrew, "but Snivellus actually got his ashes hauled! Oh boy! Wish I'd been in Potions class to see it! Oh boy!"
"That's not helpful, Wormtail," Remus Lupin said gravely, rummaging through his book bag, his face ashen.
"The door was shut again by that time," Sirius said, seething. "McGonagall and I were the only ones to see anything."
Pettigrew leered. "Was – Asi cute with her clothes off?"
"I couldn't see that much of her. I was too much in shock. Now stop your yapping and help me think of a prank to pull on the ugly nasty git!"
"Why aren't you playing a prank on Asenath as well?" Lupin queried, trying to keep the apprehension out of his voice.
"Because she's Gryffindor, Moony," James Potter said. "And her parents told her they'd yank her out of Hogwarts if she so much as spoke to Sev again."
"Sev, is it?" sneered Sirius Black. "Oh, I forgot. You're big buddies now. Not to mention that Snots probably used a Dark spell on her to make her do it. Ugh, it makes my skin crawl to even think about it! Now help me think, the lot of you!"
"I want nothing to do with it," James said. "I've got to go study for my Magickal World exam. See you all later."
All three Marauders watched him go.
"What ever happened to Prongs' backbone?" Pettigrew asked.
"He took the Wizard's Oath with the little slimeball," reminded Sirius. "Neither he nor Lily will do anything to him."
"Oh yeah," said Peter, pulling on a string on the bottom of his robe so that the entire hem unraveled. Once it was of suitable length, Pettigrew smiled. "Want to see me make a cat's cradle?"
"No, you silly git," Sirius spat.
"I feel sick," Remus said.
"Getting to be that time, isn't it?" said Peter, commiserating him.
"Yes – full moon in the next few days. You'll all help me, won't you?" The slender pale boy was hunched over with internal discomfort.
"You know we will, Moony," Sirius said. "We always do."
"Thanks," Lupin said, picking up his schoolbooks and trying to quell the turmoil in his belly.
"Get out of here, the two of you," Sirius said. "I just had an idea." His handsome face formed a sinister smile. "A wonderful, marvelous idea."
The other two turned to leave.
Peter Pettigrew hadn't walked ten feet before he tripped on his robe and fell flat on his flabby face.
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The next few days were full of discomfort for Asenath Paroo and Severus Snape.
Asenath got asked out so many times that she was forced to automatically hex any boy who even began to do so. She withdrew into her studies, ignoring her friends and crying in solitude. She missed Severus, but didn't want to end up at Beauxbatons for her last year. The upshot of it all was that her entire safe world had been turned upside down, and all she wanted to do is lock herself behind closed doors and weep.
Severus, on the other hand, had legions of fellow teenage boys mock-bowing to him wherever he went. This did nothing but mortify him. He seethed at any insult directed toward Asenath, and did more than hex the few boys who were stupid enough to ask for details. He was careful to avoid using his wide lexicon of Dark hexes, however. He wanted to graduate in the spring, after all. He threw himself into his studies, as he always did. Nobody saw him cry because – like Asenath -- he did so only in secret. He was a Seventh-Year, after all.
Albus Dumbledore said nothing further about his transgression, for which Snape was grateful. Sev wondered if Albus had a girlfriend while a student at Hogwarts, but couldn't summon enough courage to ask him.
Professor McGonagall had nothing but sneers and unjust deductions of Slytherin House points for him. Snape took to sitting in the very back of the classroom and hiding behind his hair, trying not to draw her fire. The only person who would talk to him was Remus Lupin, who also favored the back of McGonagall's room. Lupin treated him kindly, and for no good reason. Perhaps it was because the young werewolf knew what it was like to be shunned.
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McGonagall had even hauled Snape off to the Headmaster's office a few days before. She had corrected him rather harshly when he had gotten an answer wrong, and he had muttered something under his breath in return. So there he was, seated with his back turned toward the esteemed Headmaster and the esteemed Transfiguration professor, waiting for the axe to fall.
"This boy made a smart remark to me in class, and he refuses to tell me what it was. I expect that he might satisfy my curiosity if you asked him, Headmaster."
"Professor," Albus said in a conciliatory tone. "I'm sure he meant nothing by it. He's been under a lot of stress lately, as you well know."
"It was nothing that he didn't bring upon himself," Minerva snapped, bristling and scowling at Dumbledore. "I told you years ago that this boy is no good. How many detentions has he had since he first came here? It is a figure that boggles the mind! Not to mention the latest outrage! Kindly order this miscreant to tell us what he said to me in class!"
Dumbledore sighed. "Severus," he said, "I want you to repeat what you said to the Professor. You can see for yourself just how upset she is."
His back still towards them, Sev sighed and uttered one word.
"Mighvattis."
"What?" said the two teachers at once.
"Mighvattis."
"And what in the name of all that's holy is that, Mr. Snape?" snapped Professor McGonagall.
"It's – Goblin," Severus replied in a silky and emotionless voice.
"And what does it mean, Severus?" said Headmaster Dumbledore. He knew full well that his child was being deliberately obtuse. Goblin – great Merlin's ghost! Albus would have laughed himself sick if McGonagall wouldn't have immediately snatched him baldheaded.
Severus hesitated, realizing that neither one of them understood what he had said. "It means – enough. That's all. Just – enough."
"Enough of my correcting you, Mr. Snape?" Minerva snapped. "I will do so when you stop your deplorable pattern of disobedience at this school. Headmaster, I want Mr. Snape to serve four detentions cleaning my classroom – without the use of magic. And I want it done perfectly! I deem that a much better use of his time than dragging young girls into closets!"
Albus bit the insides of his cheek to keep himself from braying with laughter, then gave her a sagacious nod. "That is certainly your perogative, Professor McGonagall. Severus, report to detentions at the time and place she gives you. I believe that will be all. Thank you, Professor, for bringing this matter to my attention. Good day!"
Noting that the boy wasn't moving from his chair, the Transfigurations professor sniffed and turned on her heels, striding across the room and slamming the warded doors behind her.
"'Enough', fiddlesticks!" Dumbledore said. "Mighvattis is a well-known expletive, best left untranslated. I myself am fluent in Goblin. Perhaps I hadn't mentioned that to you in our many discussions."
Severus turned in his chair and looked at Dumbledore, his eyes dancing.
"Off with you, child! Attend to your studies and try not to do anything to further inflame Professor McGonagall. She can be as formidable as a dozen Herefordshire blue dragons!"
Grinning, Severus bolted for the door.
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The only Hogwarts Staff member who said anything even halfway positive about Sev's latest transgression was Argus Filch. "Well, boy," he hissed to Severus in the corridor, "Mrs. Norris don't go into that closet any more, being as ye scared all the mice away!" Severus had laughed in spite of himself.
The fact remained, however, that Sev missed Asenath and wished they had classes together.
They had been in the library at the same time, and only once. She looked up at him as her girlfriends prodded her, chiding and warning her. She blew him a kiss. Actually blew him a kiss! She still cared for him! Severus had pretended to catch it as her friends rapidly hustled her out of there, dragging her by her robes and her hair and scolding her all the way for her monumental lack of judgment.
Asenath was so pretty. She had been so precious and so sweet. Not the sort of girl for an ugly and cursed Dark wizard's spawn like him.
Severus pushed a rebellious thought down hard. It was unfair for him to give up his young life for the side of the Light! Couldn't Dumbledore have picked somebody else? But Severus knew in his heart that Dumbledore couldn't have. Sev was perfect for the role. His father, after all, had more or less sold him to the Dark Lord at an early age. He had been born and bred to be Voldemort's acolyte. It was just a matter of time until the dark and dreadful plan of his life came to full fruition.
Young Snape took solace in knowing that although he would act like a Death Eater and do whatever terrible things were expected of him, his heart would remain untouched. Nothing – not maiming or banishment; not torture or the prospect of certain death – would kill his love for his Headmaster. Dumbledore was Light; pure Light -- and one of Sev's deepest unspoken wishes was to be just like him.
The Headmaster had called him his son, and had treated him with such kindness that it nearly had broken Severus' heart. The boy had treasured every moment they spent together. Albus was safety and goodness personified, and he gave the Slytherin boy renewed hope for the future each time they spent time together.
Severus Snape knew – just as surely as he knew how to brew the Draught of the Living Death, even at his young age -- that he would never turn on Dumbledore.
Never.
That being the case, Severus scolded himself harshly every time he thought of running away with Asenath – running away from the humiliation, from the struggle to get out of bed each day, from the nightmares, from being called Snivellus and Twitchy and Mr. Slick and Slimeball and Hatchet Face. His dreams would just have to be put aside for now.
In spite of that, Severus was certain that if he were far away from Dark Lords and the nightmare of his childhood and youth, he would be able to keep a future family safe and sound from anything that might threaten them.
Safe and sound, from toe to crown.
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Sirius Black sat stewing on his bed, books and notes strewn about him.
That snoopy git Snivellus Snotnose had always been poking around them, looking for a way to get them into trouble. Right after Spring Holiday their first year at Hogwarts, Snots had hexed one of Black's potions so that it turned into an oatmeal-colored sludge that oozed out of his cauldron, spread out onto the desk, and finally splatted to the floor like a thick and nasty tablecloth.
Sartoris had taken away five Slytherin House points and made Snivelly stay after class to clean it all up, without using any magic at all. It had taken him three hours. When he had finished, Snape had run into Sirius and Peter in the dark corridor right outside.
They had dragged him into a vacant classroom. After Peter had gotten through holding Snape down and after Black had sufficiently blackened the Slytherin's eyes, Sirius had stood him up, poked him in the chest with his index finger, and warned him that the next time he messed with the Marauders he'd have a broken head instead.
Snivelly had lashed out in reply, kicking Black on the kneecap so hard that he left a bruise that lasted for months. This had compelled Sirius to give Snake-boy yet another beating. Unfortunately, that bout had been cut short because he and Wormtail had heard somebody coming. Later, when Professor Penderdandis had asked him about it, Sirius had told him and his own Head of House that Snape's father must have smacked him around before he came back to school, and not to blame him for that!
Sirius frowned in his reminiscing. After all, the Marauders had only tied Snape's shoelaces together in Charms class. Wasn't their fault that the little snake had no sense of humor! Stupid git was always so busy taking notes and sucking up to his professors that he hadn't even noticed. He had fallen, of course, right onto his ugly face; Professor Flitwick had seen the boy's bloody nose and had hustled him off to the Hospital Wing. It really hadn't been that bad of a joke, now, had it?
Sirius stretched himself out on his bed, knocking several textbooks onto the floor. The boy let them lie there for the nonce. His eye still bruised, his mind went over every trick Snots – and his little friend Spitballs, for that matter -- had ever done to them, and he was becoming angrier and angrier.
And so – in that cold and unforgiving state of mind – Sirius Black came up with the perfect revenge.
All he had to do was wait a couple of days.