Chapter 15: Establishing the Routine

"Settle down," Severus said as he walked the length of his dungeon classroom. The command was unnecessary; students were already pulling parchment and quill from their bags, preparing to take notes on his lecture. These were seventh year students, NEWT level students, and if anyone in the school knew what he expected of them, it was this class.

They were the best Potions students in the school, and a bright class, advanced well beyond what the Ministry required of them. They were possibly the brightest class he'd ever taught, though he certainly wasn't going to tell them that. In fact, a number of them could probably sit the NEWT exams and pass well enough today, even without the benefit of another year of practice. Severus was not interested in 'well enough'. He was interested in perfection, and he held onto some hope that come June, they might just achieve that perfection. He'd never had an entire class earn Outstanding marks on their NEWTs, but he thought this class might.

"I have been reviewing your final exam marks from last year," he told them as he took his place at the front of the class. That was actually quite an understatement. He had reviewed them after he first marked them and assigned everyone an O. Upon review, he'd found two he could have marked down to E's had he been so inclined, but had felt generous enough to let the grades stand. Whether he would admit it or not, he was impressed with this class. "Your progress has been… acceptable." i Who are you trying to fool? Their progress has been phenomenal. /i

A few of his students were shifting in their seats, looking at one another with muted and controlled satisfaction. Professor Snape never handed out compliments, and even one so understated as the one he'd just offered was enough to make more than one of them twitter excitedly.

He hesitated for a moment, once more revisiting the question of whether or not he should make his expectations known to his students. There was a part of him that insisted that if he offered them a collective goal, and perhaps even an incentive, they might well surpass his wildest expectations of them. There was another part of him that scorned the idea of appealing to the students to meet this outrageous goal he had set for himself.

Given that he still hadn't decided, it seemed like an excellent time to go over the rules that Malfoy had instructed them to cover. Picking up the four pages of parchment, Severus scowled at it a bit. "You will continue to progress this year," he announced, flipping through the pages. He could quite easily hate that woman for insisting on this, but he could also sympathize with her. He certainly didn't want to read four pages of rules and forbidden objects and practices, and he doubted she was interested in it either.

"You will also obey the rules this year," he announced. "Those of you who are in my House, you may rest assured that if I hear any of you have disobeyed these rules, you will pine for those nostalgic detentions cleaning foul substances from cauldrons. As for the rest of you, if Professors McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick do not take transgressions as seriously as I do, you may count on the cauldrons that the Slytherins will wish for. It is ridiculous that a list of rules such as this even has to exist, and if I must waste my time to read them to you, you will obey them."

He spent a moment finding the right distance from his face to be able to read the words; eventually, he was going to have to give in and admit that he needed spectacles for reading, but not yet. He was determined to at least make it until he was forty before he gave into that sign of aging.

"First," he began, "all students are reminded that the Forbidden Forest is strictly off limits…"


Despite the brilliance of the morning sunlight, heavily perfumed smoke swathed the North Tower with dimness. What light filtered in through the windows did so through scarves of filmy chiffon which diffused the radiance and offered only a faint glow where there should have been beams of sunshine. The air was warm, thick with incense and the steam from brewing tea in her previous class.

Everything in the classroom was draped and layered in scarves and swatches of fabric—silk here and wool there, a collision of colors that did not match, yet which somehow seemed to swirl together in the most natural of ways possible. Sybil sat on the most scarf-laden of the chairs, her thin legs crossed, her hands draped over the arms of the chair, her bespangled and bejeweled robes sparkling with the dancing of candle flames.

Behind her enormous, thick spectacles, her eyes were closed, her thin face tilted upward, her slender throat stretching as though she could touch the heights of the tower through force of will. Sitting like this, surrounded by smoke and mirrors, her senses dulled by burning sage, it was easy to ignore the room she sat in and to focus instead on the rest of the world that she should not be able to hear.

The stairs that spiraled up the tower carried the sounds of approaching students. She waited until the whispers and shuffling had settled a bit, then waved her wand almost sleepily towards the trapdoor, letting it open of its own accord. "You needn't loiter at the door, my children. Come in. Come in and leave your doubts behind."

They came in, though she had been teaching enough years to know that it was unlikely they had left their doubts behind. As they shuffled into the classroom and found their seats, Sybil stood, moving her shoulders with a practiced jerk and setting her long, fluttering sleeves to flight.

"Good morning," she intoned in a misty, faraway voice. "It is gratifying, as always, to see you in this world again. The mists of the beyond are a lonely, fathomless world beyond the understanding of the flesh."

A trio of the Hufflepuff fourth years sat, enraptured, thrilled with her every word. Half a dozen of them looked almost frightened, the remaining skeptical. There were always a few who had the necessary broadness of mind to grasp the complexities of Divination, and they were almost always female.

"This term," Sybil continued, "we shall look to the heavens for our clues to the mysteries of time and space, and all shall be revealed in due course. Before we begin, however, I must warn you all—I have had a startling revelation in my crystal!" She swept her hands broadly, and her sleeves fluttered madly, the spangles on her dress sparkling furiously and the chains about her neck clinking lightly. Several students jumped.

Sybil placed her hands over her heart, her eyes closed, face upturned again as though seeking guidance. "The danger," she whispered, "the menace that haunts this ancient castle…" She felt sure that none of the Hufflepuffs would realize she was talking about Filch. "It is best you be prepared," she moaned, stepping forward suddenly and clutching one wide-eyed student's face between her spidery hands. Her eyes were open wide now, and she sank to her knees in front of the boy, who looked decidedly uncomfortable with the situation. "It is best that you be warned," she whispered.

She let that ominous proclamation sink over the room before she swept to her feet again and, with a flutter of filmy robes, glided to her chair, plucking the sheets of parchment from the table beside it. She opened them with great care, as though they were ancient and precious texts inscribed on the most fragile of vellum instead of a stack of parchment that Regalia Malfoy had charmed as a duplicate of her own set of rules.

"First," Sybil breathed, "naught but danger lies within the shadows of the Forbidden Forest. You must all avoid it, at all costs."


Minerva stood to one side while her fifth year Ravenclaws filed in and took their seats. This was her fourth class of the day, and she had a pounding headache, and if she had to go over that the dress code one more time, she was going to rip the handbook apart and shove the pages down Regalia Malfoy's throat until she choked on them.

As the last of the students settled into their chairs, Minerva made up her mind. She tapped her wand on the desk and cleared her throat. "Silence," she said, and talking ceased immediately. She began to make a slow circuit of the classroom. "Welcome to your fifth year of Transfiguration. For some of you, this will be your final year, but do not think for a moment that this means you may stop working. This will be your most difficult year yet, and a year of monumental importance. I hope I needn't remind you that you will be sitting your Ordinary Wizarding Levels this June, and these exams will shape your futures."

One of the girls on the front row was scribbling far too intently to be taking notes about this opening lecture, and Minerva walked towards the student, taking her quill from her and placing it on her desk without so much as a pause in her words.

"Some of you will wish to continue with Transfiguration after this year, and some of you will be required to in order to pursue the career option of your choice. I would advise none of you to take this year lightly, in any of your classes. I am certainly not the only teacher at this school who accepts only the brightest students into a NEWT level class."

She paused at the far end of the classroom, and began a slow return to her desk. "This will be a busy year for all of us, and we haven't the time to waste on nonsense. I trust you are all aware of the expectations I have for you? They have not lessened since last year. You will be in class every day, and if you are not, you may be sure that I will speak with Professor Flitwick about it. You will be in class on time every day. You will complete all reading, and all assignments before you come to class." She paused in front of a pair of boys and leveled a stern gaze on them. "And there will be no horseplay in this classroom. Transfiguration is no less dangerous or complex than it was when you began your time at Hogwarts, and it will not become less dangerous or complex. I will not have discipline problems in this classroom, and I hope that is quite clear to everyone."

She completed her trek back to her desk at a brisk pace and plucked up the parchment Malfoy had handed out last night. Holding it in front of her and peering through her spectacles at it, Minerva read the first few words aloud. "To ensure the continued safety and productivity of every student in this school, the following rules will be obeyed at all times and under all circumstances. There are no exceptions." She looked up, letting her eyes sweep the classroom. "Has anybody not seen these rules yet?" she asked, her eyes peering sharply around the room. No one stirred. "Has anyone not heard them at least twice?" Again, there was no answer. "Does anyone have any questions regarding them? Does anyone feel a need for me to go over them again?" She finally had a few responses, heads shaking, relieved expressions etched on faces.

"Excellent," she said briskly. "Then you will all be prepared for a quiz over them the next time we meet. Now, take out parchment and quills. We will begin the year with vanishing spells, where we ended off last year. You will remember that we ended last year learning to vanish inanimate objects. This year, you will begin practicing with animals. When we meet again next time, you will be expected to put today's lesson to use on slugs, so you will need to pay very close attention to the theory behind it…"


Standing on the platform of a classroom that was so impersonal, wearing a robe that still held the charm that made it appear less shabby than it was, Remus tapped his wand impatiently against his desk and waited. Every new class was enough to make him hold his breath, but this was the first group of Slytherins, and it had been the Slytherins who made him nervous on some level. Not that he was afraid of them as students, or as witches and wizards, nor even as people. He did, however, have a healthy fear of their parents and a certain nervousness about what their parents would say when they discovered that the werewolf was back teaching their children again

The grindylow in the tank on his desk made faces against the glass, but Remus ignored him, his mind still elsewhere. Malfoy had told him he was to go into Hogsmeade this evening to acquire new robes, and he was going to have to take her up on her offer to advance him a loan against his first month's salary. His face burned, his pride already sorely abused and the prospect of additional insult did little to improve his mood.

He didn't have long to brood over it, though, and soon the students arrived and were seated, talking animatedly to one another about how exciting their first Charms lesson of the year had been and ignoring all his attempts to bring the class to order. After several attempts to quiet them, Remus snatched up his wand and muttered, "Sonorus!" As he spoke again, his voice was amplified to rise above the din of chattering students. "Quiet!" he commanded, though his command was considerably less convincing than Snape's would have been. A hush came over the classroom, but it was short-lived. Before he even finished calling the roll, the chatter had grown to a roar again.

"Everyone is to sit down," he ordered, raising his voice again, "and be quiet. We have a lot to cover today, and you are not leaving until we have finished, and I am not beginning until you are all quiet."

They didn't so much as begin to whisper. It was every teacher's worst nightmare—no matter how he pretended, Remus was acutely aware that his power in the classroom was virtually nonexistent at the moment, and he was rapidly running out of ideas.

"I will assign everyone in this room a detention if everyone does not settle down."

If they heard him, they were ignoring him, and doing a damn fine job of it. From the handful of conversations he could pick out, they were talking about meaningless drivel, which meant that this was a purposeful attempt to undermine his authority. They were simply determined to disobey, and they were ganging up on him.

The situation was quickly progressing from bad to worse, and as though the fates were enjoying his helplessness, he realized that Regalia Malfoy was standing at the door, a displeased frown on her face as she watched. Remus closed his eyes, half expecting her to stalk in and take over, but when he opened his eyes again, she was gone. At least that part of the nightmare had disappeared, and he could only hope that she had merely been an hallucination.

"Settle down, now!" he insisted, and two of the students glanced at him at least. No one stopped talking. Remus could feel his patience slipping as he stalked over to his desk and pulled a drawer open with enough frustrated force that it came out of the desk entirely and fell onto the floor. Several students laughed, but he ignored them, and ignored the scattered contents of the drawer, picking up his calendar only and opening it. "Very well," he announced. "We'll begin scheduling detentions right now then. Miss Gossett, I assume that this evening at six will—"

"QUIET!"

That was possibly the last voice Remus had wanted to hear, and judging from the looks on a number of faces, it was also the last voice several of the students had been expecting to hear. All talking ceased immediately as Severus stalked to the front of the classroom. His eyes were narrowed, his lips pressed to a thin line.

"I just had my third year Potions class interrupted by the Headmistress," he informed them in a low, deadly voice, "who informed me that a class of Slytherin students was making enough noise that she could hear them from eleven doors down."

Remus felt as though he might as well not even be in the room for all the effect he'd been having and for all the mind anyone was paying him. Severus hadn't so much as looked at him.

"All of you will be in detention with me tonight at seven, at which time we will be discussing appropriate behavior, and if I am ever called from my teaching duties to settle down a group of Slytherin students again, those students will suffer my extreme displeasure. Do I make myself quite plain?"

Fourteen students were staring back at him, wide-eyed and subdued now and apparently taking Snape's threats much more seriously than they'd taken Remus'.

"Professor Lupin will have your cooperation, or I will know about it, and you will regret it. Do I need to remind you that you will be sitting your OWL exams this year? I expect every one of you to pass, and if you do not, and if you have not been paying attention in this class, I will relish every word as I recommend your expulsion from this school. Is that clear?"

No one moved, and no one said a word.

"Now, you will behave. I trust you all know what that means? You will give Professor Lupin the same consideration you would give to me or Professor McGonagall, and if I discover that you have not, you will find yourself answering to me. Is that clear?"

Finally someone spoke. "He's just a werewolf."

Snape's head snapped towards the one who had spoken. "I do not care if he is a flobberworm, Bullard. He is a professor in this school, and therefore you will behave in his class. And you will also have an essay on my desk first thing tomorrow morning detailing precisely what it means to be respectful to a teacher. Does anyone else have any concerns that we need to discuss?"

"Do we still have to serve detentions with him?" asked a girl on the front row.

Remus took it upon himself to answer that one, and hopefully to reassert some of his lacking authority. "Yes, Miss Tucker, you do."

Annoyingly, she looked at Snape for confirmation.

"Yes," he said tersely, then straightened. "And as I said, if I am ever called out of a class to settle you lot down again, you will sorely regret it, so I advise you to think carefully before you decide to rebel against a teacher in this school." Snape finally turned to look at Remus. "If you have any more problems that you can't handle, let me know, and I will take care of it."

Snape stalked out of the classroom, leaving a sullen silence in his wake. After a brief pause, Remus cleared his throat. "Open your books to page seven," he told them.

"I thought you were supposed to read us the rules," challenged one of the students in the back.

Remus fought a scowl, chafing at being told what he was supposed to be doing. "Very well," he snapped. "The class is nearly half over anyway, so you can do the work we were going to do in class as homework." He snatched up his copy of the rules and began reading. "All students are to remember that the Forbidden Forest is strictly off limits at all times, and anyone caught in it will serve detentions as set by the Headmistress and will earn his or her House a twenty point deduction…"


A/N: You know, despite my best intentions, I keep letting a two months slip by between updates on this one. I swear I haven't forgotten it, and I'm not going to!

cecelle: thank you! As I'm sure you know by now, the Snape-Lupin dynamic is one of my favorites to play with. It's just so full of potential.

Silverthreads: She wouldn't be a Malfoy without worrying about such things, would she? I like to imagine that Hogwarts is probably the most laid back of the Wizarding Schools that we know about so far, so while Dumbledore might tolerate messily-dressed students, I think they're going to be in for a rude shock with Malfoy ;)

Crookykanks:hangs head in shame: you ask for a sooner update and I let it go twice as long. I feel like such a bad author.

Lou: Nothing is ever as it seems. And if it is, it's not worth writing about ;)

Lizella: I love staff fics, personally, and I love the staff-room dynamics. Of course, it's mostly conjecture, but I have fun with it. I'm so glad you enjoy it too!

duj: Now the question is whether or not Malfoy will bounce back from the failure. And whether or not, having tasted it for a second time in her life, if she is going to become more difficult still to work with. I feel like she has quite a lot of potential in that position, but she hasn't got the hang of it yet.

excessivelyperky: Now, now, if these kids have the money for dungbombs and butter beer, then surely they have the money for new robes, right? ;) I've had a lot of great response to the staffroom meetings. Apparently, that strikes a chord with a lot of people.

Neotoma: you know, it isn't often that I let a review send me in another direction, but since you mentioned Lupin's bad situation, I decided to really play that one up (as you can see the beginnings of in this chapter). I tend to agree with you about Regalia: she's got the potential, but she still needs some practice. Can you imagine her as a Headmistress in, say, fifty years? Scary.

Liat: now if I told you whether or not Dumbledore will be back, what would be the point of continuing to write? And good point about Harry and Co. Hope they figure out that Regalia means business BEFORE they do something expel-worthy.

Lildrusilla: A Malfoy in a school that accepts Muggle-borns. It does make you wonder what might happen, doesn't it? I'm glad you find Regalia so irritating. I consider that a personal success!

Again, as always, I have to plug the name of my marvelous beta: larilee. And thanks to everyone for reading and leaving reviews, and most especially for being patient with me as I spend an eternity on each of these chapters!

Jen