"Experiment, the First"

or-

"Cookies for the Teacher"

A note to a classmate in Potions:

Dear Roo,

You, my dear Roo, are a LOT braver girl than I...of course (paraphrasing here), "Faint heart never won fair man." Of course, our dear Professor Snape is not 'fair,' but he certainly IS compelling in his very own, dark and mysterious fashion!

Let's see...you tried the "damsel in distress" motif. He side-stepped. You tried the "seductive harem honey" motif. No dice. You tried the "brains AND beauty" motif. Back to the old drawing board. You tried to soothe his savage breast with music, and alas, he turned out to be a music critic. You even tried the time-honoured "spunky heroine" motif. You caught his eye, and as a token of his undying regard, he gave you...detention (ecch! ecch! ecch! Rat guts! Peuwww!)

So let's see here...what's left? Allow me to consult "Pursuit of the Single-Wizard (or, How to Always Get Your Man)" by Ivanna Mantunite and get back to you.

Cordially,

Althea Wainwright

Hmm... Let me see… (Chapter 12, Page 354), "...and as any wily witch surely knows, the way to your woebegone Wizard's lonely heart is through his stomach. Brew up a bewitching batch of some delectable dainty your Wizard favours and offer to him on a regular basis. Regular offers of fabulous food will tame his tremulous heart..."

I attempted (in the interests of science, of course), a field test of my theory, the results of which follow in my diary entry.

I knocked at the door of Professor Snape's study, a tray of freshly-baked cookies in hand. "Professor Snape? Are you terribly busy?"

He answered my knock after a very long pause. "Who is it this time?" And I thought I heard him mumble, "These insufferable brats seem to think I have nothing better to do than while away the time engaging in puerile conversations with them."

As you might imagine, Dear Reader, I was already somewhat nervous about the undertaking of this experiment, but Science would never advance if all researchers were faint of heart, and so I took a deep breath and announced, "It's me, sir, Althea Wainwright. I'm in your sixth year Potions class, Slytherin. I...um...have something for you, sir."

The door was yet closed, but the sound of displeasure in his delicious voice was quite distinct. He did not sound at all pleased to have been interrupted. Not one little bit. "Althea...Wainwright, is it not? If it's Potions homework, Miss Wainwright, you may present it to me before class tomorrow. I am exceedingly busy."

"Please, sir, I only need a few moments of your time." Of course, of what use was the experiment if I never even got the opportunity to carry it out?

There came the sound of a chair scraping on stone and approaching footsteps, and I could hear him murmuring to himself, "Wonder what THIS one wants?" The door opened, and there stood Professor Severus Snape, in all his austere glory. He looked down at me with a small, disquieting smile playing on his lips and the beginning of that well-known – and feared - glitter in his dark eyes. "Well, Miss Wainwright, what is it, and I hope, for your sake, it is exceedingly important."

I tried not to gulp audibly but I found I was nearly swooning at the good Professor's proximity. He always seemed so much…taller…whenever he was annoyed about something, which seemed to be quite often. "S-sir, please, may I talk to you in private? It's…it's…"

The smile thinned and the eyes narrowed dangerously. "Come in, come in." He did not resume seat but stood next to his desk and motioned me to close door behind myself. "Well, what is it you have to show me that is so terribly urgent?"

My face was already hot, and despite the chill of the dungeon, I felt overwarm – almost feverish. But I plucked up my courage and presented the cookies, just as I'd planned. "I baked these for you myself, sir. They're p-p-ocolate and ch-chumpkin crookies—I mean…no…umm…chookie, chocokin and pumpolate… That is, I-"

Professor Snape nodded gravely. His smile had thinned to a dagger's edge, and his black eyes seemed to be boring a hole clean through me. "I see, Miss Wainwright. Home-made cookies… I'm touched." He took the tray from me, set it down and reached behind his desk.

I sensed (or at least I hoped I sensed) a softening and Golden Opportunity. I stepped closer to him. "Oh, sir, I'm so glad you like them. I wanted to do something special for you. I wanted to do something…personal. I really-"

"Why, it just so happens there IS something you can do for me."

My heart was pounding. I stood before him, looking up into his face, into his fathomless, black eyes, and I felt the room is spinning. Yes, this is IT! Yes, I thought. "Yes, sir! ANYthing! I'll do anything you want, sir!"

"Anything, Miss Wainwright? I'm delighted to hear it." And at that, he retrieved an old-fashioned crook-handled English school cane from behind his desk and placed it firmly on top of desk while continuing to smile in a very menacing manner.

I wonder if my eyes were as wide as they felt. I looked about for a place to hide, but no place in that room seemed a likely refuge. My eyes traveled back from the cane to Professor Snape's face, and back again and finally, all I could manage to squeak out was, "Yes, sir?"

"First of all, all, you may pass the word along that I will not tolerate any further interruptions. Secondly, you will be joining Miss Carleton in detention under the auspices of Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris, disemboweling rats for potion components. And third, you may rest assured that I do not keep this implement in my study for decoration and that if sufficiently provoked, I will not hesitate to use it in the traditional and time-honoured fashion. Do I make myself clear, young lady?"

I felt close to fainting with terror, but he stood there, waiting, until I replied, "Yes…yes, sir. Th-thank you, sir."

The interview completed, Professor Snape resumed his chair, saying only, "Do close the door on your way out."

Thus ended Experiment, The First

A further note to a classmate in Potions:

Dearest Roo,

Offers of food didn't work, either. More on this later, once the smoke clears. See you in Detention.

Rat guts! ewwwww!

Unhappily,

Althea Wainwright