My sincere thanks go –as always– to Persephone Lupin for having betaed the original version and to lucidity for correcting my English translation. You are the best!
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Ambivalence
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The following days were marked by Snape complying with the task of brewing the potions Madam Pomfrey had asked for, to refill the stocks of the hospital wing with the most essential at least. The matutinal efforts by the healer finally showed success, and while Snape's body slowly regained his former strength, his handling of the crutches became increasingly practised. His motivation to appear in public was still relatively limited, though, but Kingsley eventually persuaded him to at least show up for lunch in the Great Hall from time to time. And after the fourth day in a row of hobbling across the entire hall towards the teachers' table – a stoic expression plastered onto his face – he realised that the curious gazes in his direction and the accompanying whisperings grew fewer and fewer, finally ebbing to the level his appearance usually caused.
Slightly lost in thought the Potions Master reached for a knife and started to cut the already sliced bergamot paring it into tiny cubes. Such seemingly cumbersome work might annoy or bore other people – he on the other hand perceived it as particularly soothing for his nerves and mind. Most potions ingredients must be handled without using magic, because they would lose their effect otherwise, and he enjoyed the manual labour, which he usually carried out in self-inflicted solitude. While the low music of Ravel's Bolero was sounding in the background, his long fingers swiftly shoved the tiny cubes into a little pile, and then flipped them into a little cauldron standing over a small flame. Prelude to a new creation, he thought, and a satisfied smile played around his thin lips.
The Potions Master leaned back to reach for his wand which he had placed ready on the table behind him. A couple of days ago he had ranted that he couldn't possibly work efficiently when he was constrained to continuously clutch a pair of crutches, and so Kingsley – without further ado – transformed a chair into a comfortable standing aid on wheels. How come he had never thought of this practical idea himself, Snape thought while bewitching the spoon to start stirring the liquid in the pot in slow circles. He rolled a bit to the side and picked up the second bergamot fruit to peel it and prepare the paring for further processing.
The little cauldron bubbled gently, and the fruity fragrance its contents emitted finally reminded Snape of the fact that he might not want to miss lunch. Not that he couldn't get some food from the kitchens served later, but he appreciated his habitual noontime conversations with Kingsley and didn't want to make him wait in vain. After he had made sure that the security charms on the fire and cauldron remained stable, and that the spoon would carry on stirring without his supervision, he reached for the crutches and rose to start his way up to the Great Hall.
Sighing quietly he cumbersomely ascended the stairs to the ground floor. He was definitely grateful for the fact that the classes hadn't ended yet, and he thus at least was spared curious eyes as he finally hung over the crutches at the top of the staircase – utterly exhausted and panting like a niffler on its last legs. Two days ago in the face of this slightly unsettling dilemma he even tried a levitating charm onto himself in an unwatched moment, with the result that he lost balance and had to summon his entire bodily control to not fall back down the staircase. So he wouldn't be spared this constant toughening exercise after all. Well, he despised flying and similar hullabaloo anyway.
Ear-splitting noisiness from one of the classrooms made him stop on his way. The Slytherin frowned in disapproval over the hubbub on the other side of the door. Obviously these students were without supervision and were going haywire, he thought slightly annoyed, while his hand approached the doorknob.
Pandemonium emerged before Snape's eyes as he opened the door. He cast a disbelieving glance inside the classroom and flinched back involuntarily, when a little red sofa cushion passed by his face, missing the tip of his nose only by a hairsbreadth. The air seemed to be full of flying and floating cushions and pillows in all bright colours imaginable.
"What, by the name of Merlin, is going on here?"
The sharpness of his voice guaranteed the immediate and full attention of the students, the noise ebbed away, and the floating objects stopped in midair, to one by one slowly drop to the ground.
"What…? Ah, Professor Snape!"
Kingsley was standing in the corner in the back of the room, a small green cushion in his hand and in front of him a small boy with his wand drawn. "Please sit down, students. You as well, Kilian," he said to the small boy, who immediately took off to find his seat along with his classmates.
"Professor Snape," Kingsley said amicably and approached the Potions Master, who still stood in the doorway, slightly taken by surprise. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"I was under the apparently mistaken impression that these students were without supervision," Snape answered silkily while he inwardly feverishly searched for a loophole out of this embarrassing situation. "The ruckus was audible across the entire corridor," he added.
"Ah... yes", Kingsley nodded. "My second-years were so well-behaved today, I approved of a bit of fun to reward them. And a brush up on levitating charms was in order anyway," he added. "Wasn't it, children?"
Given the facial expression of the Potions Master, whose idea on subject repetition was a completely different one, only a couple of exceedingly brave students dared to nod. Fortunately, and not only to Snape's relief, the bell rang to announce the end of the lesson.
"No, my ways of teaching are not open for discussion," Kingsley said quietly and with a warning undertone in his voice, while he finally closed the classroom door after he and Snape had stepped out on the corridor. It was obvious that the Slytherin had held back a snide remark to let it roll off his tongue since the minute the last student had slipped out of the door. "However, it's good to see that you're feeling back on track it seems", he added with a wink, as they started their way towards the Great Hall.
Snape curled a lip. "It seemed the right opportunity," he answered airily as they parted the crowds of students heading for lunch.
"You bloody…!"
"Ouch! Leave me alone!"
"Aaaaaahh!"
"You wait!"
"What's going on there?" Snape asked looking at the clamour from the far end of the corridor. The tall Ravenclaw craned his neck.
"There seems to be a fight," he noted. "Right up there." The former Auror quickened his pace towards the noise where already a group of curious students had assembled. Snape tried cumbersomely to keep up with him while the crowd parted before them, opening the view on two figures rolling on the floor. A couple of particularly daring students even egged the rowdies on. Kingsley drew his wand without further ado and after a short wink the two found themselves sitting on the floor, panting. Snape recognised them as Slytherins and narrowed his eyes.
"Five points from Gryffindor for encouraging them," he said silkily while fixing the cheeky pupils with a glare that made them hush. "And another five from Ravenclaw for the same misdoing," he added, ignoring the somewhat indignant glance from Kingsley.
"Stand up and follow me," he hissed, annoyed over the fact that he had found students from his house scuffling like street urchins. The delinquents exchanged angry glares and followed their Head of House, who showed them into the nearest empty classroom with a brief tilt of his head.
"Well," said Snape, after he had motioned them to close the door and then hobbled over to support himself against the nearest desk. "What was that supposed to be, gentlemen?"
The two of them stood before him, their posture still fierce and ready to strike. Watching them, Snape found it hard to keep up the appropriate stern expression. He had identified the reason for the brawl in an instant – at the very moment when Kingsley had separated them. One's parents were Death Eaters and now in Azkaban, while the other was an offspring of a more liberal thinking family. Snape sighed inwardly. It would take generations for some wounds to heal.
"Waste your surplus energies on the other houses next time," he said sternly. "And now go to lunch."
The students obeyed without another motion and Snape waited for them to leave the room. As he stepped out of the door, Kingsley was awaiting him in the corridor.
"And?" the Ravenclaw asked with an arched eyebrow while closing the door.
"A situation that is to be expected," the Potions Master answered. "One is the son of a convicted Death Eater…"
"…who now is the target of revenge," Kingsley assessed.
"Albus was right," the Slytherin sighed. "That's a problem not easily solved."
While they continued their way towards the Great Hall Kingsley nodded. "I'm afraid the problem isn't to be solved at all – not while the wounds are still bleeding, that is. There was a similar situation in my first class today, between two Slytherin girls."
"These are not going to be isolated cases," said Snape, while they slowly followed the corridor, where only a few stragglers overtook them on their way for lunch. The situation his house was in and his own powerlessness in that hurt him inwardly.
"As far as I can remember my own schooldays it was particularly the Slytherins who stuck together."
A corner of Snape's mouth curled into a sarcastic smile. "Which seems to be a necessity here. There are three other houses regarding Slytherins as their enemies, after all."
"A circumstance that isn't handled exactly diplomatically by your house every time, is it?" Kingsley mentioned with a smile. "However, this unity seems to be seriously broken now."
How right you are, Snape thought nodding. "Especially now that this solidarity would be so badly needed," he sighed.
"Well, you are their Head of House – can't you just do something about it?"
Snape emitted a bitter bark of laughter. "You imagine this problem far too starry-eyed, Kingsley. When you are reared by your family into a certain direction it's not so easy to get rid of all this. All these painful realisations come much later – believe me, I'm talking from my own experiences."
Kingsley graced him with a pensive side glance, while the Slytherin pressed his lips together and glared at the slabs on the floor which slowly passed by under his unsteady steps.
Snape sighed. "They arguably wouldn't even obey me on this. On the contrary – I daresay that the students from Death Eater families now blame everybody else for having lost their parents. The question of culprits and victims is a somewhat ambivalent one here," he added quietly. All aside from the fact that it might prove difficult for a former Death Eater to get them to listen to him at all, he thought bitterly, while they entered the Great Hall, where general ingestion had begun.
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"Ravel's Bolero": the "Boléro" by Maurice Ravel is one of my favourite pieces of classical music. I found the "emerging and growing" style of this song very suitable for the creation of a potion, and I somehow could definitely picture Snape listening to the Boléro while brewing.