Tegmalm's Owl -- Thank you! : ) Yes, I do write a lot. I have stories in 5 genres (though I'm only still active in BtVS and Harry Potter). I've been writing fanfiction for over seven years now -- just the show I write about changes from time to time.



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Chapter Eight
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Seething in a mixture of rage and humiliation, an increasingly familiar combination in his life, Severus strode past the library entrance.

"How old are you, Hermione?" he heard his mother ask, and stopped dead in the middle of the hallway, only noticing now that it cut off, he'd been hearing the Granger girl's exited chatter.

He groaned. **Circe save him! Surely she wouldn't!** he thought in despair. Despite wanting to be anywhere but right here, Severus stopped, blatantly eavesdropping on his mother's conversation. He had to know what kind of damage control he needed to apply, and what, exactly he would need to admonish his interfering mother for later.

"What? Oh! I'm Eighteen."

**Eighteen?** he thought, surprised, then snorted as he heard Miss Granger's explanation. He should have known. Minerva's pet *would* get whatever she wanted, no matter the possible consequences. He wasn't surprised, however, that he hadn't been informed of it -- even if he really *should* have known one of his students had been using it.

"Why did you ask my age?"

**Yes, Mother, why indeed? And just how are you going to get out of this one?**

"Curiosity, dear, curiosity."

**Right! The annoying chit may be one of my least favorite students, but even *I* don't believe she'll buy that load of bullocks.**

Shaking his head, Severus abruptly strode into the library. It was time to put a halt to this unacceptable conversation, preferably before Miss Granger's curiosity and his mother's sudden decision to forgo every ounce of her sanity combined to create a truly horrific scandal, the likes of which would see him leaving the school never to show his face in public again.

"There you are, Mother," Severus greeted his mother, utterly ignoring Miss Granger. "I've been looking all over for you."

" *Mother*?" Hermione squeaked, making Severus turn toward her. His eyebrow raised, a condescending sneer firmly in place, he watched as the insufferable know-it-all turned a rather alarming shade of red. It bordered on purple, actually. Yes, quite alarming.

"What, Miss Granger?" he drawled. "Did you believe I *hatched* so as not to actually *have* a mother?"

"N-no, of course not, Professor Snape," Miss Granger stammered, hurriedly gathering her books. "I just d-didn't expect to ever meet her," she continued. "It was nice to meet you, Se-- Mrs. Snape. Good Day, Professor."

Severus almost chuckled as the chit practically ran from the library. It was quite amusing really. He hadn't been able to fluster the girl that severely in years.

**Wait, did she just almost call my mother using her first name?**

"That wasn't very nice, Severus, scaring the young lady off like that. Now, it will take me forever to get her to relax again."

He *had* heard right. "Mother, please tell me you *didn't* give that child permission to be overly familiar."

"Okay, I won't tell you."

Severus groaned, dropping into the recently vacated chair. "And other thing. She's a student. Leave her out of your insanity."

"Oh, that's not a worry," his mother replied airily, waving off his concern, "time changes things like that."

"Mother," he said firmly, just barely remembering to keep his voice quiet enough not to carry, "I absolutely will not tolerate--"

"Do calm down, Severus," his mother interrupted, frowning. "I've already decided she won't do, so you do not need to concern yourself about her."

"You did?" he asked, surprised, an emotion that quickly changed to exasperation. "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?"

"Because you didn't ask, Severus, dear. Instead, you barged in here like a jealous little boy, demanding I pay attention to you instead of someone else."

"I did not, Mother!" Severus hissed angrily. "Would you please stop treating me like I'm some stubborn child? I was *merely* making certain you hadn't lost *complete* control over your sense of propriety."

"I will treat you as I see you acting, Severus," his mother responded firmly, irritating him no end.

Curiosity suddenly getting the better of him, he simply had to ask. "And what kind of standard, may I ask, are you using that utter twits like . . . 'Professor' Trelawney pass and Miss Granger fails?"

"Oh!" his mother exclaimed sitting up straight, "So you think maybe I should take a second look at Miss Granger then?"

"Merlin no!" Severus snapped, wincing as he noticed Madam Pince was now scowling at them. "She is entirely inappropriate . . . for a variety of reasons I will not go into. I'm just trying to figure out why *you* thought so."

"Oh, that," Serapha Snape replied. "Why, she's Gryffindor, of course."

Severus blinked in shock, then reacted . . . without thinking. "Of all the narrow-minded, addle-pated reasoning. . . ." His voice trailed off as he watched his mother's face heat with anger. "Forgive me, Mother. I did not mean to lose my temper with you." He was grateful to watch his mother's ire diminish. He had not been looking forward to an all-out shouting match in the Hogwarts library in full view of several spectators.

"If I didn't know better, Severus Snape," his mother began speculatively, "I'd say you *did* think she was appropriate."

"Don't be ridiculous, Mother," he snapped, this time careful to keep his voice down, and most of his anger hidden. "I have repeatedly told you I have no wish to marry at all. And if I did suddenly develop that hideous wish, I *certainly* would not be looking to my students for a wife."

Severus nearly shuddered. This coming on the heels of his earlier conversation with Albus was more than a little disconcerting. No matter his belief that Trelawney was an utter hoax, the three events combined was enough to give him nightmares. He had enough of those already, thank you very much, he did *not* need any more.

"We have already had this discussion, and if you do not begin legitimately cooperating, I will simply choose, leaving you out of the process entirely. We are understood, yes?"

Closing his eyes in mounting frustration, but reluctantly realizing he was out of choices and time -- his mother did have both tradition and law on her side . . . unfortunately -- he nodded slowly. "Yes, *Mother*, you are very much understood. Now, I will make it perfectly clear that *I* have final say on this. I *refuse* to entertain even the mere *thought* of the simpering *idiots* you've been throwing at me so far. And *no* students. It is against policy and will get me fired."

**And that's not even going into the fact that I find the entire thought revolting in the extreme.**

"Very well, I agree to your terms. I was beginning to look in different areas in any case, realizing the error of my original choices. And in regard to your students, I quite agree. I already told you, she's not appropriate, dear, so I wouldn't worry about her, were I you."

Severus bit his tongue in an effort not to correct his mother's misapprehension. He was not worried about Miss Granger. Miss Granger would take to the suggestion like most cats took to the idea of a *bath*. It was his mother he was worried about. Shaking it all off -- including the fact that somehow or other she'd managed to get him to actually agree to this damn charade -- he stood.

"I must get to class, Mother. I *trust* I have no further need to be concerned about you approaching *students*?"

Serapha laughed. "Of course not; I already said as much. You know, technically, I haven't even approached one, really. Hermione and I were simply having a friendly chat, nothing more."

**Right! And I'm next in line to get Potter's autograph!** he thought as he strode away.


***

"Class dismissed," Professor Snape barked. "Make sure you clean up your messes before you go to leave!" So saying, he strode toward his desk and buried himself in paperwork, completely ignoring both the whispers coming from his third year Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw class and the distinct noises of them cleaning their workbenches.

He'd made it through another day without either serious injury to himself or his students, nor without completely losing his mind. His mother's presence here at the school, as well as her agenda had him rattled far more that he really wanted to admit. The conversation in the library had *certainly* not helped. He still couldn't believe he'd given in to her sudden insanity, and he'd been going over that conversation piece by piece all day, trying to figure out just *how* he ended up on the defensive. It was outrageous how his mother could do that to him.

"Professor?"

"What?" he snapped, irritated beyond usual at the interruption. The student fidgeting nervously in front of him winced. **Good,** he thought vindictively.

"I-I'm s-sorry for the b-bother, Sir, but I missed how long you wanted the essay to be."

Severus' eyes narrowed and he rose to tower over the hapless student. "If you cannot pay attention in my class, Mr. Roarke, you will need to do what students with any sort of brains at all do and go to your fellow students for the missed information," he sneered. "I cannot be bothered with imbeciles who do not bother to *pay* *attention*."

Eyes widening, Mr. Roarke nodded shakily, "Yes, Professor," he replied, already running out of the room. Severus smirked as he heard the boy mumbling to himself. 'Stupid, stupid stupid.'

The boy wasn't really all that stupid, Severus knew, he simply had a tendency to let his mind wander, which wasn't something Severus had any tolerance for whatsoever. Inattention while brewing was what led to tragedy. It had killed more students and supposed adults over the centuries than any other single potion related reason.

He shook his head as the classroom door slammed shut, leaving him in blessed solitude. Of course, he couldn't yet head back to his chambers, his official office hours covered the next two hours. He didn't really expect to be interrupted, however. Very few souls over the years had decided their need was great enough to brave coming to him privately.

He smirked; most of them probably believed they wouldn't make it out alive. Of course, there were exceptions to that. Miss Granger being one who had done so several times. She, the nervy chit, however, had not been seeking assistance for something she didn't understand. No, usually when *she* braved his office hours it was to request permission to do outside work.

**Extra credit,** he thought, sneering. He'd never allowed it, not for credit. If his students couldn't pass his class doing the work he assigned, they didn't deserve to pass, period. He *had* reluctantly given permission, twice, for her to work outside class time on projects, however. She always seemed to come up with the ones that couldn't be completed within the amount of time the school allotted each day. He would be very surprised if she didn't come to him this year to get permission for that very thing.

In the past, if he hadn't been interested, despite his desire otherwise, in the outcomes of those projects, he'd have denounced her soundly and told her to pick her projects more wisely, and to keep in mind the amount of time she had a lab available. He didn't allow her to know that, of course. He simply chided her, disparagingly, on having a compulsive *need* to show everyone she was better than they were. He torn between hoping his interest would be less this year so he could soundly turn her down, and hoping she came up with something even more interesting. If nothing else, the second option wouldn't allow for boredom.

He frowned. Why in Merlin's name was he thinking about the chit again? Thanks to his mother, he'd already spent a large portion of his day doing so, and he didn't intend to do for one moment more. Firmly telling his thoughts to leave him the bloody hell alone, Severus picked up his quill and began grading.

He had truly intended that to be the end of it. Unfortunately, his wayward thoughts didn't cooperate and he found himself, yet again, reviewing the library conversation, going over Miss Granger's reactions, his mother's subtle alterations of the truth, and his own confusing thoughts.

This time, he found himself considering her outside her role as a student. What would she be like in five, ten years, when age had mellowed her driving need to prove herself? Aside from her rather atrocious choice in friends, and the incredibly annoying way she had to always be right, there was a lot about the girl that was commendable.

Being strictly objective, he had to admit she was very good at brewing. She could, if she were to choose it as her speciality, likely make the title of Potions Mistress. That wasn't something many people were capable of. It was too demanding a field for most, nor was it flashy enough. Also, remaining completely unbiased, he realized she was highly intelligent, if not brilliant; though, he was reluctant to go that far. Her other professors already thought so; there was no need for him to go overboard as well.

Time would mend the overzealousness of youth, so that, by itself wasn't really a flaw worth considering on the whole. Her being Gryffindor, while a trial during her school years would hardly matter later in life -- well, he acknowledged ruefully -- except for the traits she carried that got her sorted there in the first place. An overdose of bravery, while commendable in theory, wreaked havoc in practice, and usually ended up with dead heroes. And of course, that purity of heart they tended to have, seemed to make most of them come across as overly judgemental.

Severus growled, throwing down his now dry quill in disgust, this time aimed directly at himself. He hadn't managed to mark one paper in the last hour. Instead, he'd spent it wasting his time on thoughts he neither wanted nor cared about. It was getting to be utterly ridiculous. Albus could stuff the remaining 45 minutes of his office hours today, he decided abruptly; he was going to his chambers.

He was just locking up his classroom when the voice of doom sounded -- at least that's what the squeaky child voice behind him sounded like when it hesitantly called to him.

"Professor Snape?"


TBC
Kiristeen
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Kiristeen@kiristeen.com


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