It was a well-established fact that the Dark Lord feared no one but Albus Dumbledore, but if Severus had truly cared for the man, he would have vehemently advised him to consider Minerva McGonagall an equally dangerous foe. Yes, it was true that Dumbledore was likely the most magically powerful wizard since Merlin, and of course, one would be rather idiotic to not fear his wrath. Nevertheless, Severus was certain that no one could conceive of worse revenge than sweet old Professor McGonagall.

Unlike Albus, Minerva's revenge was far more… specific. It wasn't simply about power or elaborate spell-casting - it was personal. Her vengeance was individually crafted to torment each of her targets, ultimately making her, at the very least, just as formidable of an opponent as the headmaster.

That wasn't to say that Dumbledore was blameless, mind you. Of course, he enabled the Deputy Headmistress to do as she pleased, completely ignoring the fact that Severus did absolutely nothing to deserve Minerva's torture.

The entire incident began innocently enough. A typical, foolish, small-minded Gryffindor decided to be careless in class and destroyed half the classroom, and as was his duty, Severus took off points. Harmless enough.

Yet somehow, dear Professor McGonagall got the idea in her head that Severus was purposely being far too harsh. Too harsh? It was the Professor's right to determine the severity of an infraction, and if Severus decided that 100 points should be taken, then that was that.

But, no. For some reason, Minerva was absolutely convinced that Severus had sabotaged the boy intentionally. Something about how the boy happened to be her Quidditch captain and was injured after falling over in shock following the explosion.

For some reason, Severus's response to her accusations - an amused smirk - only made Minerva further incensed.

In hindsight, Severus really should have let the matter go, perhaps even gone as far as apologizing. It would have avoided Severus from dealing with this situation - being summoned to the Headmaster's office and finding Minerva leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed, with a smug smile of her own.

"Good morning, Severus," she greeted. "What a lovely day."

"I'm surprised you think so," said Severus. "How is your Quidditch captain doing?"

To his surprise, Minerva smiled brightly. "Quite well indeed, Severus. I appreciate the concern." With an exaggerated gesture, she motioned to the gargoyle behind her. "I do believe the Headmaster is waiting for you, however."

"Is he?" Severus drawled. "How kind of you to let me know personally. I'd have never guessed."

"How intelligent of you," she said, pushing up her spectacles. "Go on, go in. Don't wait here any longer, I might spoil the surprise."

Not wanting to indulge her by asking any questions (although somewhat confused at her phrasing), Severus muttered the ridiculous password and entered the office, ignoring Minerva's sardonic wave as the door closed.

"Hello, Albus," Severus said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Dumbledore's mouth twitched. "I believe you must have an idea, Severus. Still, come in, sit down."

Severus hesitated a moment before taking a seat across from Albus. After a pause, the headmaster began.

"Minerva believes that you may be far too invested in winning the house cup than is usual of a head of house," Dumbledore said. "She suggested that perhaps that would not be the case if you had... other endeavors to pursue."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Considering that Minerva is well aware of the several 'endeavors' I am involved in, I am curious as to what more I am expected to do." Smirking a little, and turning his head slightly to the door (where he was sure Minerva would still be standing even if she couldn't hear the conversation), he continued, "Perhaps Minerva finds herself searching for excuses to explain her house's poor performance. Clearly, it seems she is just as 'invested' as I in the success of our respective houses, only she finds herself far less prosperous in that regard."

Naturally, considering his dreadful luck, Albus did not accept this explanation.

"Somehow, I find myself agreeing with Minerva," he began. At Severus's incredulous expression, clearly ready to protest that he had more than enough tasks to be working on, Albus simply held up a hand to silence him.

"Now, Severus, you know as well as I do that you hardly have anything to take your mind off things, these days. I've perhaps never seen you chatting with friends or socializing in any way."

"What do you suggest, then, Albus? For me to further associate myself with dear Bellatrix? Become 'best friends' with Lucius, perhaps?"

"Of course not, Severus. But it would be fantastic if you could hold a polite conversation with this side of your life."

Severus rolled his eyes. "I have only one life, Albus, despite the many complications within it," he pointed out. "I feel no need to complicate it further."

Dumbledore, however, was insistent. "Severus, I'm afraid that this is non-negotiable, considering the incident with Mr. Wood." As Severus opened his mouth to plead his innocence (for one, as a Quidditch player, Wood really should have had better reflexes), Dumbledore simply held up a hand.

"I hardly think that a few friendships will hurt you, Severus. In fact, I've taken the liberty of scheduling a few meetings with your fellow colleagues to get to know each other a little bit. I've told them it is for 'interdepartmental relations'. For you, it means to socialize." Wandlessly summoning a schedule and fixing his eyes on Severus's, he continued, "Each meeting is only a half-hour, and I ask that you remain for the entire duration of each meeting."

After a moment of silence, Severus burst out, "I am not a student, Albus! You can not assign me detention, or homework."

"Ah, I believe it would be every student's wish to have such homework, making friends," Albus laughed in his usual, irritating manner. "Besides, I made a deal with Minerva regarding this. I'd hate to disappoint my Deputy Headmistress."

Taking the schedule from Dumbledore's hand, Severus petulantly retorted, "You'd prefer to disappoint your Potions professor?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "Well, what can I say, Severus? A man must do what he must. I'd hardly want to get on Minerva's bad side. For what it's worth, I do have a few tips."

"Tips?"

"For making friends with your colleagues. Number one—"

"I don't need your tips, Albus," Severus sneered. "Neither do I find it necessary to make 'friends'."

Dumbledore clapped his hands excitedly. "That's number one! Do try to call your colleagues by their first names, just as you referred to me by mine. It develops camaraderie. You're already doing excellently! Secondly—"

"Albus—"

"Secondly, it would be wise to be as polite as possible at each of these meetings, despite any circumstances. Please try to do so."

"Fine," Severus gritted out. "Anything else?"

"No," Dumbledore said, looking quite surprised. "I expect that's all you'll need. Why? What were you expecting?"

Severus had the feeling that being polite and calling one by their given name was hardly enough to make friends, but what did he know? He (proudly) engaged in neither on a regular occasion.

When Severus finally walked out of the office, feeling rather dejected, his mood only worsened at seeing Minerva's smirk.

Dear Merlin, was there any proof that Minerva hadn't been a Slytherin?

Severus's first meeting was scheduled for later that day with none other than Sybil Trelawney. Despite his vehement protests with incredibly valid reasons as to why he would much prefer to never speak to her (including but not limited to the facts that she spouted a prophecy that lead to Lily's death, reminds Severus of one of his greatest regrets, and is a completely crazy, maniacal, fraudulent loon), Albus refused to reconsider. Bracing himself for the migraine that was sure to come, Severus politely knocked on the door of the Divination classroom. Although he didn't receive any answer, Severus suddenly heard a startled scream from inside, causing him to snatch his wand from his pocket and open the door in alarm.

"Is everything alri—" he began, scanning the classroom to see what may have caused the shout, but was interrupted when he felt something hit his back. Whipping around and raising his wand, he startled to a stop when he saw Sybil Trelawney walking towards him with her eyes closed, arms outstretched, and hands waving horizontally across the air. Her stance somewhat resembled that of a zombie, if one ignored the glass pieces in her hair, the twitching nose, and the fact that she was slowly revolving in a circle instead of walking straight ahead. Before Severus could make any further comment, Trelawney opened her eyes and turned to him, loudly exclaiming, "NO!"

Although Severus had expected some level of lunacy prior to walking into the classroom, he never would have dreamed of such a beginning.

Composing himself slightly (for he did promise Albus that he would do his very best to remain polite), Severus finally said, "Is something the matter, Sybil?"

Trelawney suddenly dropped her hands down and widened her eyes and him. "I sense something. I sense a very powerful vision coming through..." she murmured, walking closer to Severus.

Resisting the urge to either raise his wand again or completely retreat from the classroom, he asked as respectfully as he could muster (although not without a trace of sarcasm), "What do you sense, Sybil?"

At his words, the Divination professor abruptly turned away from him and walked toward her desk. Somewhat curious, Severus watched as she sat down and took out something from a very large drawer. To Severus's utmost amusement, he realized that he recognized the object.

"A crystal ball? How positively muggle. And here I thought that the great seer, Sybil Trelawney, could make a prediction all on her own." Oh, well. Not exactly the 'polite conversation' Albus was surely hoping for, but alas, if he and Minerva somehow found out about his sarcasm, they would just have to go on and be horrified.

Fortunately (or not?), Sybil didn't seem to hear him as she had started chanting completely nonsensical words while hovering her hands around the crystal ball. After several minutes of this, just as Severus had begun hoping that his half-hour 'meeting' would be over with him just watching her 'divine' something, Trelawney shakily removed her hands from the crystal ball and pointed a finger at Severus. When he remained silent, she mystically (with a hint of disappointment, most likely due to his lack of interest) pronounced: "I sense... death."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Severus shrugged and responded. "I see. How incredibly beneficial to know. I suppose it does help to know that death is approaching, despite the fact that all living things must die."

Walking towards him and waving her hands in the air, Trelawney raised her voice, "No! I sense... impending death! A traitor, a poison, a wand, a curse! The death... it is...it is..."

"Deadly?" Severus suggested, trying his very best not to smirk. Sybil stopped frantically waving her hands for long enough to glare at him before suddenly continuing again.

It suddenly occurred to Severus that Albus (or even Minerva) may question Trelawney on how their... conversation was. Of course, she was so batty that they most likely would not receive a straightforward answer, but it was possible that it would be in his best interest to humor the other professor for the next... approximately fifteen minutes (Merlin, how did he still have that long?).

Sighing, Severus said, "That's very interesting, Sybil. I would love to learn more."

"AHA!" She yelled, once again raising her finger to point at Severus from beneath her unkempt hair. "The curious mind is a portal into the future, my budding seer. Perhaps it will help us unlock the next key to this door into the unknown..."

"I am not a budding—" Severus began harshly before suddenly cutting himself off. Taking a deep breath, he started again, "How fascinating, Sybil."

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" She asked, almost to herself rather than Severus, before walking back to her desk and rummaging through a few drawers. After at least five minutes (although when Severus checked, it somehow appeared to only be two), she took out a bundle of leaves and spread them out on the desk.

"Ah," Severus commented in recognition. "Tea leaves."

"Yes," she said, nodding her head continuously, and for far longer than any decent human being should. "This, perhaps, shall provide some further details. For I sense a dark cloud around you, my dear, and it would not do to let this knowledge go."

Severus remained silent as Trelawney described her process with the tea leaves and tea, only briefly interjected with the words, "Ah," or "I see," when it became necessary to respond. Finally, (yes, finally! Only five more minutes of this dreadful experience... Severus didn't remember being this hasty to leave class even when he was a student), Trelawney raised one of the leaves closer to her face before gasping dramatically.

"It... it... I see..." she stuttered, once again pointing that crooked figure at the leaf.

Sighing (and bracing himself for whatever conclusion she had invented regarding his impending doom), he asked, "What do you see, Sybil?"

"I see... death!" She shook the leaf and brought it even closer to her eyes as if hardly believing it could exist.

"Ah," Severus said, the corner of his mouth twitching for just a second. "I thought we had already established that with the crystal ball?"

"But this, this!" She exclaimed, still shaking the leaf. "It is the surest sign of death... The most deadly..."

"I see," Severus said, before quickly checking the time. Sighing in relief, he looked back up at Sybil while already inching toward the classroom door.

"Well, this has been most enlightening, Sybil," he said, half-convinced that she wasn't listening as she was still staring at the leaf. "I appreciate your time."

Before she could even attempt to respond, every trace of Severus had disappeared.

Why Albus felt it necessary to make him socialize with a ghost, Severus had no idea, but he consoled himself with the fact that this meeting could not possibly go worse than the one with Trelawney.

Ha, as if the universe would be so kind.

Severus was scheduled to meet with Professor Binns after his Gryffindor and Slytherin third-year class, which already put him in a somewhat foul mood (another point of discussion to bring up to Albus: why force the two houses that hate each other most to interact in his class? Perhaps that duty should fall upon Minerva). As much as Albus had emphasized to him that first names were important to be used among all of his colleagues, Severus could not bring himself to call the History of Magic professor 'Cuthbert' both aloud and in his thoughts. (As it is, it had taken Severus several months to begin calling his old Transfiguration professor 'Minerva' and was not willing to put in as much effort for the ghost - he doubted Binns would be offended, anyway).

"Professor Binns?" Severus knocked on the door of the classroom. Just as with Trelawney, he heard no response, but opened the door after a moment.

"Binns?" he repeated, scanning the empty room before gently shutting the door behind him. As soon as the door clicked, however, he saw the ghost practically fly in through the door and hover in front of Severus's face.

"Don't you know better than to slam a door in someone's face? Kids these days, no respect..." The ghost muttered, shaking his translucent head in disappointment. Blinking twice in surprise, Severus tried to decide which part of the ghost's ridiculous statement he should approach first.

"Professor Binns, I am Professor Snape," he finally settled on saying, uncertain as to whether the ghost even knew who he was. With his luck, Albus probably hadn't even made Binns aware of the meeting (after all, it wasn't like students would choose to talk to Binns outside of class and interrupt them). "I teach Potions."

"Hmph," the ghost snorted, unimpressed. "Mr. Snare, what can I do for you?"

"Professor Snape," Severus instantly corrected, unsure which word to stress. "The headmaster requested that I meet with you for the next half hour; did he not inform you?"

The ghost crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow skeptically. After a moment, he moved over to his desk and motioned for Severus to sit in the seat in front of him. Feeling incredibly like a student again, Severus hesitated for a moment before taking a seat.

"Your grades in History of Magic must be quite poor indeed for the headmaster to interfere," Binns commented. "Perhaps it is because you no longer show up in class?"

Completely baffled, Severus took a moment to compose himself before responding, "I am no longer a student here at Hogwarts, Binns. As I already mentioned, I am also a professor. The headmaster requested that I speak with you for the sake of... interdepartmental relations." To his disbelief (and disappointment), the ghost did not seem convinced.

"I will not fall for your tricks, my dear boy," the ghost said, shaking his head. "You forget how much experience I have as a teacher. I do recognize you, by the way, even though you are not wearing your uniform - don't think you can get away with that! I will certainly be notifying your head of house. Professor McGonagall will be most displeased."

Once again, Severus found himself unable to determine exactly which part of Binns's statement to correct. "You are mistaken," he began, deciding that it was for the best to no longer call the ghost 'Professor'. "As I am sure you can tell, I am far older than any student here at Hogwarts. I am the Potions Professor, feel free to verify with the headmaster if you are still unconvinced." Unable to resist, Severus added, "Besides, when I was at Hogwarts, I was in Slytherin, not Gryffindor."

It seemed that Binns was having none of it. Shaking a frail, translucent finger at him, he said, "I know all about you, lad. Sirius Snare, Gryffindor. You're rather popular, you know? Being Quidditch Captain and all? I'm sure there is someone who would be willing to help you with my class."

Severus closed his eyes and resisted the urge to slam his head on the desk in front of him. At this point, Severus decided that even if it took him his entire life, he would develop some sort of spell or potion that would painfully torture the ghost in front of him for even thinking about comparing him with James Potter and Sirius Black.

Honestly, how anyone could ever, ever make such a connection was completely beyond him. It seemed that the ghost had absolutely no clue who any of his students were - if Binns had completely forgotten him, Severus would have understood, but to think his name was Sirius, and that he was the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain? It was almost as if Minerva had instructed Binns on exactly what to say to get under his skin (but no, Severus finally decided, looking back at Binns's face; although he could not use Legilimency on ghosts, he could generally tell when they were being genuine, and unfortunately Binns seemed completely convinced of his own memory).

"I am not 'Sirius Snare'," Severus finally said after an extremely long pause, finally opening his eyes. "My name, once again, is Severus Snape. I repeat, I am a Potions Master and highly qualified for my job. Please do not mistake me again for a student; although I once was your student, I was most definitely in Slytherin and had absolutely nothing to do with the buffoons you seem to be remembering - or shall I say, misremembering - from my year." He finally took a deep breath and added, "I apologize for any miscommunication, Cuthbert, but as your colleague, I only saw it fit that we properly know one another."

Binns tilted his head and considered Severus for a few moments. Glancing away from the professor, Severus took a moment to (discreetly) check the time.

"I see," Binns finally proclaimed, hovering closer to Severus. "Well, then. I will surely confirm this with Albus, but for now, welcome to one of the most rewarding professions one can have, young man." Severus very nearly snorted in derision but forced himself to remain silent. Binns, however, was not done yet. "Still, you've got some nerve, eh, speaking to an elder like that? Even if you are a fellow professor, in my day, we still treated all of our colleagues with the respect they deserve."

"Of course, Professor," Severus agreed, silently glad that he would no longer have to call the ghost by his dreadful first name (and that, it seemed, the ghost had finally come to his senses regarding his name and occupation). "Very wise indeed."

To his astonishment, the ghost shook his head fiercely. "No, no, you misunderstand me, young man. I hardly speak to anyone, nowadays, except for my students, so I am often fascinated by the relaxed nature of modern adults. I believe it would be much wiser for us ghosts to, well, learn from the current generation rather than to be so focused on the past." When Severus raised his eyebrows, slightly confused, Binns explained, "I do love teaching History; I find that to be extremely rewarding. Yet perhaps it is for the best if I leave the past for my lessons and the present for my, well, life." He chuckled slightly. "What I'm trying to say, Sirius, is that there is no need for formalities between us if you do not wish there to be any."

Horrified, Severus suddenly stood up and began walking back to the door, still keeping an eye on the floating Professor Binns. "Once again, my name is Severus, Binns. Severus Snape. I do not mind calling you 'Professor Binns' and would very much appreciate it if you call me 'Professor Snape'. I apologize, but I must be leaving for my class now. Thank you for your time."

Just as he turned the handle of the classroom door, Severus heard Binns call out, "Very disrespectful, Mr. Snare! I knew this was another one of your pranks, although this time, I admit, I believe I am missing the point. You might as well know, we professors are all scheduled for a break at this hour, hence there would be no need for us to go to class. Twenty points from Gryffindor!"

For once, Severus didn't bother correcting him.

Severus sighed in relief when he realized that his next meeting was to be with Filius Flitwick. Although they were by no means friends, Severus relaxed with the knowledge that Flitwick was far more competent than both Trelawney and Binns. The communication between Severus and Flitwick was limited, but respectful and... sane. (The same could not be said of a certain two other professors he knew...)

Knocking on the Charms classroom with confidence, he heard a high-pitched "come in!" from the inside (finally, finally someone who would answer the door like a normal person).

When Severus walked inside, he was greeted by the tiny professor, who was standing on a large pile of Charms books. "Severus, welcome! I just finished teaching my fourth years and I'm afraid I didn't get much of a chance to clean up."

Glancing around the classroom, Severus nodded with amusement. "Incendio, I presume?"

Flitwick smiled and nodded. "Yes, exactly. I still remember your Incendio, by the way," he said, hopping down from the books and onto the floor. He walked over and sat at his desk, motioning for Severus to sit across from him. As Severus took a seat, Flitwick continued, "I still remember how you 'accidentally' nearly set fire to James Potter's shoes..."

"I still remember how you pretended you didn't see the incident," Severus countered, although smiled slightly at the memory. Flitwick grinned.

"Well, perhaps in that one instance, he did deserve it," the half-goblin admitted with a shrug. "Although rest assured, if any true harm had come to him, I would have surely done more than take off points."

"Of course," Severus said, leaning back in the chair.

He almost jumped out of it when he heard Filius say, "Lily Evans was one of my best students."

Gripping the arms of the chair, Severus slowly turned to Flitwick and asked, as casually as possible, "What makes you bring that up?"

Waving his arm vaguely, as if bringing up students that had passed was a common occurrence, the professor said, "Well, you know. that class with you and Potter. Evans - Lily - she always used to take your side. I never would have dreamed that...'' he trailed off.

"Yes, of course," Severus darkly responded, only slightly mollified by the fact that Flitwick still referred to Lily as 'Evans' and not 'Potter'. When he noticed that the other Professor seemed surprised at his tone, Severus decided it was best to change the subject.

"So," he began, frantically searching for a topic, any other topic to talk about. "I recently read an article regarding the amalgamation of Charms and Potions in order to achieve a more satisfactory result even in the most mundane—"

"Severus," the Charms professor gently interrupted, causing him to come to an abrupt halt. "As much as I enjoy discussing Charms, I do get somewhat tired of it after a certain point, especially with classes all day. Sometimes it's nice to simply relax, take one's mind off of things."

Raising an eyebrow, Severus said, "Oh?"

Flitwick nodded and leaned forward. "What do you like to do, outside of your class? I'm afraid I don't know much about your hobbies and passions," he asked. Thankfully, Severus had an answer ready.

"Potions," he said simply. "I enjoy... experimenting."

"I see," the other wizard said, but in a way that caused Severus to feel slightly wary of what was to come. "What I meant was... outside of studying potions. What do you like to do in your free time?"

Severus resisted the urge to snort and question what Flitwick could possibly mean by that phrase. Between his assignments for the Dark Lord and the Order and Albus and his classes... What possible free time could he have? Still, he supposed that Flitwick wouldn't be satisfied with that answer.

"...Reading," he finally said, knowing that it was at least a partial truth and would most likely appease the Ravenclaw. "Although I suppose that isn't very interesting to discuss."

Filius laughed - laughed! Severus frowned and opened his mouth to defend himself when Flitwick said, "I enjoy reading - and discussing it - as much as the next wizard, Severus, but would I be correct in saying that most of your readings revolve, once again, around your favorite subject?"

Thankfully, he didn't wait for an answer. "Now, you may believe that all of us Ravenclaws only have our noses in books, but one of the first things every student in my house understands is the idea of balance. We must not focus ourselves solely on one topic or activity, whether it is work or studies or family or fun. One requires an integration, if you will, of studies and entertainment. And, I believe," he paused, as if daring Severus to interrupt before continuing, "that you, Severus, may lack that balance that is so crucial in life."

Severus took a moment to collect his thoughts and keep his sneer utterly invisible (it would not do to alienate possibly the only professor he was genuinely trying to help him) before responding, "Perhaps I don't necessarily find that I am lacking such a balance, Filius. If I enjoy potions, have you considered that I do not wish to engage in activities that I find otherwise unpleasant?"

Filius leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical of Severus's statement. "Severus, surely you're aware that spending too much time on one thing can hurt your performance as well? There's no harm in attempting a new hobby. If you do not believe it is helpful, you can of course drop it at a later time."

Severus scowled. "What do you suggest, then?"

Flitwick excitedly leaned towards him, clearly eager to 'help'. "Under usual circumstances, I would suggest dueling," Flitwick began, tapping his jaw with his finger. "You were rather good at it, if I remember correctly."

"Ah, of course," Severus said, rolling his eyes at the memory. "How enjoyable it was to further expose myself to teaching a group of dunderheads with the assistance of the heroic Professor Lockhart." Flitwick winced slightly as Severus belittled the students, but otherwise did not comment (Severus reasoned that Flitwick knew he was telling the truth, despite how unpleasant that truth may be).

"Well, naturally, this doesn't fall under usual circumstances. I would also have suggested that you try writing a book, yet somehow I figure that that would once again, be related to potions."

Severus inclined his head; Flitwick's point was fair enough.

Flitwick crossed his arms and leaned back into his chair, deep in thought. Severus simply stared at him, wondering how long it would take for the man to figure out a hobby that Severus would be proficient at, unrelated to potions. He was thankful, at least, that the man hadn't yet suggested Quidditch - that was one thing he refused to even consider, even if Merlin himself told him to.

Clearly, he had relaxed far too early. Because when Flitwick suddenly jumped up from his seat, clapping his hands together in excitement as he told Severus about his idea, Severus almost wished that it had been about Quidditch. Even running a dueling club with both Trelawney and Binns would have been preferable.

"No," Severus said firmly, hoping that the man was joking. When Flitwick opened his mouth to argue, Severus repeated, "No. I refuse. Something else. Anything else. Did Minerva put you up to this?"

"Of course not! You would be so good at it; a strong baritone like yours is just what we need—"

"Under no circumstances am I joining your choir."

"It's not my choir, it's the Hogwarts choir! And it would so good to have another teacher-"

"No."

"Give me one good reason why not! You need to live a little, Severus."

"I assure you, Filius," Severus said dryly, "If I ever join your choir, that means that I am already dead, and some imposter is impersonating me - very poorly, I might add."

"That's not a reason, Severus," Flitwick said stubbornly, crossing his arms and somehow looking genuinely upset. "With a voice like yours, I am convinced that you would be a brilliant singer."

Raising an eyebrow, Severus said, "I do not sing. I refuse to sing. That is that."

"But Severus," Flitwick complained, his high voice piercing Severus's ears. "Albus informed me that it was important that you get to know the staff members better and meet new people, and the best way to do that is to join the choir! Sing something, let me see how good you are."

"No."

Before Severus could further react, Flitwick suddenly drew his wand and pointed it at Severus, muttering something under his breath. Still, by the time Severus dodged out of the way and took out his own wand - less than a second, really - Flitwick had already moved on, holding some sort of figure that he had taken out from his pocket and pointing his wand to it.

"...What are you doing?" Severus asked, almost afraid of the answer. To his displeasure, Flitwick ignored him for a few moments until whatever inane charm he was doing was complete. When Flitwick finally held out the figure, Severus gaped as he realized that the figure was of him - not extraordinarily well crafted, yet unmistakably a tiny version of Severus himself.

Before he could ask any further questions - and he had far too many, at this point - Flitwick was already explaining. "I make these figurines of every staff member to give to them at some point," he said, placing it on the table - and, as if this couldn't get any worse, Severus realized that the figurine was a bobblehead. "You might say that crafting these is another hobby of mine," Flitwick chuckled, as Severus continued to glare at the mini-Severus. "I was planning on giving it to you after our meeting today, but I just improved on the design with the charm."

"And what charm would that be, exactly?"

"Ah! That is my favorite part! See, let me show you." Flitwick tapped the figurine once on the head, and to Severus's utmost horror, it began to sing.

In Severus's voice.

It was a dreadful tune that was horribly upbeat, and as Severus almost instantly took out his own wand to stop the song (and destroy mini-Severus before Flitwick's eyes), Flitwick interrupted Severus's thoughts by shrieking, "I knew it! A natural baritone! Severus, you must join. Oh, Minerva and Albus will be so thrilled—"

That was it. Severus could not take it anymore. He snatched mini-Severus from the table (the creature was still singing, some absurd song about happiness and joy and other utterly nonsensical delusions) and stood up from his chair, shaking his head in disbelief at what his life had come to.

"I'm very sorry Filius, but I must decline. Thank you for the offer."

As Severus very abruptly walked out the door and quickly exploded the horrible mini-Severus, he completely missed Flitwick's sly grin behind him.

Much like his many students who not-so-subtly longed for the end of class, Severus found himself both eager and anxious to complete the penultimate meeting of torture. Eager, naturally, as after two more experiences of 'socialization', Severus would have absolutely no need to associate with his dim-witted and frustrating colleagues for the foreseeable future.

Anxious, because, well - the next meeting was with none other than the newly-instated Care of Magical Creatures instructor, Rubeus Hagrid.

As if the thought of approaching Hagrid's hut, completely unaware of what beasts were inside, wasn't horrifying enough, when McGonagall learned that he would be meeting with Hagrid today (for naturally, due to unexplained reasons, Dumbledore felt the need to constantly update her regarding Severus's 'progress'), she grinned wickedly and cryptically said, "Hagrid does need you today, Severus."

So, at approximately five o'clock in the evening, Severus trudged across Hogwarts and reluctantly knocked on the door.

Instead of a response, all Severus could hear was sudden, inexplicably loud, sobbing.

At that moment, if Severus hadn't suspected it before, he knew that this meeting would go no better than the others.

Severus cautiously turned the handle of the hut's door, somewhat surprised at the condition it was in. How Hagrid didn't manage to break the door off its hinges every time he moved it, Severus had no idea.

When Severus entered the hut, naturally, the first thing he noticed was the half-giant who was facing the fireplace, rocking back and forth, and not even attempting to control his tears. Remembering what Minerva had said, it briefly crossed his mind that she herself may have harmed Hagrid, just to further punish Severus by forcing him to deal with his tears (but no, Severus soon concluded. Most likely it was just his dreadful luck).

Refusing to come any closer, Severus stood stiffly against the door and cleared his throat. When he received no response, Severus sighed and loudly asked, "Is something the matter, Hagrid?"

At that, Hagrid turned around to see Severus, continuing to sniffle. His hair, if it was possible, was even more matted than usual, and giant tears were streaming down his face. Taking a moment to control himself (which merely consisted of a few more sniffles and somewhat reduced sobbing), Hagrid finally managed to say, "Sev'rus! Pr'fesser Dumbledore told me that yeh were comin', but I'm sorry yeh have teh see me in such a state."

Severus waved his hand as casually as possible, as if he came across weeping half-giants every other day. "It is no matter," he replied, not very convincingly, but Hagrid seemed to accept it, nodding slightly. When he continued to cry and Severus realized that Hagrid wasn't planning on explaining what had happened, he finally said, "I do hope your reaction is unrelated to my presence here. If you prefer, I would be more than willing to leave you to your own thoughts." And never come back here again, he mentally added.

To his dismay, Hagrid shook his head. "No, no, it's not yeh at all. Come on in, no need teh be shy." Severus sighed again and reluctantly stepped forward, pulling the door behind him. Hagrid continued, "I'm 'fraid I won't be much company now, yeh see. Today, two years 'go, they took me baby 'way from me."

Well. That wasn't at all what Severus had been expecting. Somehow, he had figured that the half-giant had been crying for some especially mundane reason - perhaps someone insulting one of his many (dangerous) pets. A loss of a child, Severus had to admit, seemed to be an almost legitimate reason to be upset.

Still blinking in surprise, Severus finally stated, "I didn't know you had a child." That, unfortunately, caused Hagrid to burst into tears again. While Severus knew, theoretically, that the Headmaster was expecting him to provide Hagrid some comfort, Severus decided (rather quickly, perhaps) that there was no need for him to further insert himself into the situation.

After a moment, Hagrid appeared to speak again. "T'was a secret." he began, wiping tears from his face. "I only had him fer a few days."

Although Severus almost wanted to ask what had happened, he resisted - no doubt additional questions would only further upset the man. Still, it seemed that Hagrid now wished to speak about his child without any prompting.

"He was the most beautiful little boy I'd ever seen," he began, gradually becoming more coherent. "I'd wanted him fer so long, too."

"I see," Severus said, reverting to the 'safe' phrases he had defaulted to in his previous meetings. "How nice."

"They took him 'way!" Hagrid cried suddenly, and Severus quickly realized his mistake. "Too dang'rous, they said. But Norbert wouldn't hurt a fly!"

Despite the fact that Severus could imagine exactly why someone would consider a child of Hagrid's 'too dangerous' - a half-giant, after all, could theoretically have a child that favored a giant's genes - for once, he felt something akin to sympathy for his colleague. While it was questionable how safe a child would be under Hagrid's care, Severus couldn't help but concede that Hagrid would have done whatever he felt was best for his child.

(Besides, if Potter could spawn a child, Severus could find no reason why Hagrid shouldn't.)

"Did Dumbledore know about...Norbert?" Severus finally asked, somewhat surprised that the Headmaster would knowingly take away a child, giant genes notwithstanding.

Shaking his head, Hagrid wiped a massive tear from his eye. "No, no, I didn' tell him. Nothin' he could do, and I didn' want him to get in trouble. He didn' know that I had Norbert, after all."

"Ah," Severus responded blandly. That did make some sense. Unsure how to continue, he awkwardly said, "I'm sorry for your loss."

Bad decision, if Hagrid's increasingly loud wailing was any indication.

If there was one thing to be thankful for, it was that at least during this half-hour, Severus wouldn't be expected to converse much. Yes, he would have to hear loud sobs and see gigantic tears, but he wouldn't have to talk.

Small comforts.

Unfortunately, it apparently meant that he would have to listen. After a few moments, Hagrid wiped away some of his tears and turned back to Severus. "Would you like to hear about him?"

"I'd be delighted," Severus deadpanned.

"Yer so kind, Sev'rus," the giant blubbered, surely saying words that had never once been said before. "Wantin' teh hear 'bout Norbert." He sniffled. "It all started at the pub."

"I don't need to hear that part," Severus said quickly. Hagrid looked a little bit confused but then nodded.

"S'ppose it's best yeh don't," he finally agreed. "Anyway, I took him home, and I set up a perf'ct little place fer him. He would've loved it."

"Yes," Severus said hesitantly, suddenly feeling like he had missed half the story. "I'm sorry, who was the mother?"

In his defense, it was for clarification. After all, it did matter what percentage of giant the child was.

"I dunno," Hagrid sobbed.

"But…" Severus trailed off, unsure what to make of that. "How did you get Norbert then?" he finally asked.

Hagrid frowned slightly. "I thought yeh didn' want teh hear 'bout the pub?"

"I don't," Severus hurriedly clarified. "Never mind then."

"Okay," Hagrid said easily. "Anyway, I brought Norbert here, and I read ev'rythin' I could about takin' care of him."

"I see."

"I did," Hagrid insisted. "Evr'rythin' was ready. He was so beautiful…"

"I see."

"He was so tiny, but he knew his mummy when he saw me!"

"I see."

"But they said it was too dang'rous," he said sadly, although his tears had greatly subsided since Severus's initial entrance. "Wouldn't be safe in a wooden cabin."

"I see— wait, wooden cabin? Why, was it too small?"

"No," Hagrid said, clearly surprised. "'Cause of the fire." At Severus's blank expression, he clarified, "Fire burns wood."

Taking a deep breath, Severus slowly said, "I am aware of that. But as far as I know, no giant breathes fi—." His eyes suddenly widened. "Norbert was a dragon?"

"Yes," Hagrid said. "I thought yeh knew."

"No, I did not know," Severus said, all but yelling. "Dragons are illegal. And you were going on about your child."

Seemingly unaware of Severus's shock, Hagrid responded, inexplicably in tears again, "He was my baby. And they took 'him 'way!"

"Yes, yes, we've been through that. But you didn't think to mention he was a dragon?"

But by now, Hagrid was beyond listening. "I could've taken care o' him! He would've learned!"

"I see," Severus said, standing up and approaching the door. "This has been most informative, Hagrid. I wish you all the very best in life."

As Hagrid continued to wail, Severus stormed out of the cabin and let the door slam behind him.

One. Last. Time.

Severus's first impression of Charity Burbage consisted of a remarkably short conversation in which he welcomed her to the school and she promptly asked about his blood status. For this reason alone. Severus couldn't help but feel it was incredibly ironic that Charity had become the Muggle Studies professor, of all things. Despite the fact that he hadn't found any evidence that she promoted pureblood supremacy in her class (surely one of her students would have complained), Severus had promised himself that he would avoid the Muggle Studies professor at all costs.

Yet here he found himself, knocking on the door of Professor Burbage's office, a part of the castle that Severus had never once stepped foot in all of his years at Hogwarts. His reluctance was hardly lessened as she brightly called out, "Come in!" - as he had learned from his meeting with Flitwick, answering one's door could no longer provide any real indication as to whether one was truly sane. Nevertheless, Severus took a deep breath and opened the door, preparing himself for whatever torture was to come.

Burbage, who had clearly been writing something at her desk, stood up from her chair as Severus entered. Severus's eyes glanced around the room - a relatively small office that seemed to be filled with every possible muggle device imaginable - before finally resting on the professor herself. She was dressed in what seemed to be a brown muggle coat, with some sort of muggle-style knit underneath in some hideous combination of colors. Her hair was a mess, vaguely resembling Trelawney's, although her face seemed far less maniacal (Severus knew better than to deem this woman as having a reasonably sound mind, however - if this room was anything to go by, he was already leaning towards the judgment that she was a tad obsessive about everything muggle). Before he could make any comment, however, the woman spoke.

"Welcome in, Severus, how nice to see you again. You know, I am happy as a clam that you will be joining me this evening. Simply on cloud nine!"

"...Excuse me?"

The woman grinned and lightly slapped her own forehead. "I'm so sorry, you must think I'm completely insane," she began, and Severus resisted the urge to agree. "You see, I gave all of my students an assignment today to use at least five muggle expressions in the next week and explain their purpose. I suppose I forgot that I didn't have to do the homework as well," she laughed.

"I see," Severus said, hoping that she wouldn't take that as a cue to explain whatever muggle expressions she had used. "What an… instructive assignment. I am certain that it will benefit all of your students in the future."

"Of course! I'm so glad you understand," she exclaimed, completely missing the blatant sarcasm. She leaned in as if telling Severus a secret. "You know," she whispered, as Severus forced himself not to lean away, "some wizards simply do not understand how remarkable muggles are. It's simply fascinating, and these wizards scorn it simply to avoid everything muggle." Then, she leaned away and gently patted Severus on the arm. "I'm glad you are not one of them."

"How kind of you to say," Severus replied dryly. To his utmost surprise, the woman suddenly grabbed Severus's arm and pulled him over to her desk and gestured at a chair.

"So, you took Muggle Studies when you were at Hogwarts, correct?" Burbage asked as she rummaged for something at her desk. Severus sat down and coughed awkwardly in his elbow.

"Er, no, not exactly," Severus responded, as her head sharply snapped down to look at him.

"No?" She asked, clearly trying (and failing) not to sound too horrified. "May I ask why? You see, I believe that it is important for all students to take Muggle Studies - after all, we all do interact with muggles at some point in our lives." Realizing that she perhaps sounded too judgmental, she asked, "Did your family perhaps not approve? I have been told that by several of my pureblood students, so I suppose that is a possibility. Truly a shame."

"Ah," Severus blinked, surprised at how fierce the other professor sounded. Not wanting to explain to her how his teenage self had not even considered taking Muggle Studies, he settled on simply responding, "I am actually a half-blood. My father was a muggle."

Charity's eyes widened dramatically as she instantly sat down in her chair and focused on Severus with a wide smile. "Really? Oh my goodness, I had no idea. After our first conversation, I was under the impression that you felt delicate to tell me that you were a pureblood, considering my profession. Oh dear me, I apologize for not talking to you sooner." When Severus frowned in confusion, she clasped her hands together and added, "So, tell me!"

"Tell you...?"

"About your muggle life, of course!" She said cheerfully, as if it was obvious. "Have you ever been on a helio-copter? Have you ever used a cop-muter? My family is all magic, you see, so I am just fascinated by this stuff."

Of course. Of course Albus would hire a pureblood as a Muggle Studies professor.

"I'm afraid I haven't lived in the muggle world since I was a child," Severus said, although he could guess what she was attempting to talk about. "I believe I am far behind the times when it comes to their current technology."

Charity winced as if sympathetic to Severus's pain of not being up-to-date about muggles.

"If you like, I'd be more than happy to tell you all about this stuff," she said excitedly. Severus, unable to think of any way to avoid it, attempted a faint smile.

"I'd be delighted."

"Oh, wonderful, wonderful!" She clapped her hands again and pulled something out from her desk with a group of pictures on it. Pointing to something that Severus recognized as a rocket, she said, "This is a helio-copter."

"A helio-copter?" He asked skeptically, reasonably sure that he was not the one mistaken. Charity, however, simply nodded.

"Yes. You see, many muggle words are based on Greek, and in Greek, 'helio' means 'sun'. So this machine can take them up to the sun."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Muggles have been to the sun? As opposed to, perhaps, the moon?"

"Yes," she repeated, absolutely convinced. "Arthur Weasley explained it all to me. And he works at the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry, so he really knows his stuff."

"Ah, yes, I am acquainted with Mr. Weasley," Severus said, suppressing a snort.

"How nice!" She smiled, genuinely pleased that Severus knew someone so involved with muggles. "If you have some questions that I'm not familiar with, you should ask him. He's really very knowledgeable in all of this."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Charity then pointed at another image on the paper, which looked a little bit like a large box. "This is a copmuter," she explained.

"A cop-muter?"

"Yes, you got it!" She said enthusiastically as if Severus was some sort of ridiculous child that required praise. "It can connect people from all over the world, just through this device."

"I see," Severus said thoughtfully, slightly shocked that she had said something remotely close to the truth. "How does that work?"

She smiled encouragingly, clearly pleased that Severus had asked a question. "The muggles are really brilliant, you see," she began. "They have something called an inner-net. That's basically inside the copmuter, and that's what connects all of the different copmuters in the world together." Chuckling, she added, "It's really quite clever. The copmuter doesn't work unless it is physically connected to these wires, which help it turn on and actually work. I believe it is called the outer-net. So the inner-net and outer-net have to work together to create this amazing technology."

"...I see."

"It is fascinating," Charity sighed dramatically. "I only wish this was in the curriculum for Muggle Studies. But no, I mainly have to focus on the more basic social necessities, such as clothing and money."

"I see," Severus repeated, privately both thankful for such a limited curriculum and skeptical that Burbage possessed even such 'basic' muggle knowledge.

Charity then shuffled some of the pictures in her hand, clearly trying to look for some other ridiculous image to show Severus. Unable to find whatever she was searching for, she dropped all of the pictures on the table and turned to some of the drawers in the desk. As Severus focused on some of the images (all muggle pictures, mind you), he winced as he saw mislabeled diagrams and horribly inaccurate texts about technology.

"Severus?" Charity suddenly asked, causing him to look up with a frown still on his face. "Have you ever considered going to a dentist?"

"I beg your pardon?" Severus asked, his scowl deepening.

The woman laughed genially, as if she had not said anything remotely insulting. "Do you know Ms. Granger? You see, her parents are dentists, and I wrote to them one time. Really lovely people, and I learned all about dentistry. I can't help but think it would do a load of good for you." Seeing Severus's expression, she added, "No offense, of course."

Somewhat bewildered, Severus asked, "How do you expect me to take it?"

Her smile dropped, apparently genuinely distressed that she had upset Severus. "I just think that everyone could do with a bit of happiness in their lives, and Albus told me that you don't get much time for fun in yours, so I just thought... I mean, especially since you did have a muggle parent, I thought maybe you would know all about it, and maybe you would want to do it again."

Severus squinted at her and tried to figure out what she could possibly be referring to. Unable to come up with a viable explanation, he finally asked, "What exactly is it that you believe dentists do?"

"Oh! I'm sorry, I should have explained. They help you have a happier, healthier smile! And since everyone could do with a bit of laughter in the world, I always suggest it."

Ah, and there it was. Severus couldn't help but ask, "Have you ever visited a dentist?"

"I wanted to, but the Grangers said that my smile was fine just the way it was, based on the pictures I sent them," she said, sounding slightly disappointed. "I mean, I suppose that makes sense, I'm generally a very happy person, especially when I interact with muggles!"

"Ah, I see," Severus said, still processing the absurdity of such a statement. Charity, however, remained oblivious.

"You know, if you are interested, Ms. Granger will actually be coming in soon, right after this meeting, to look over my lesson plans for next week," she continued. "Dear child, I have no idea how she finds the time. Well, I do, but well— Would you like for me to ask her to make an appointment with her parents for you?"

"Absolutely not," Severus said harshly, before quickly amending, "I shall consider the matter and approach Ms. Granger myself, in the unlikely event that I make such a decision." Rising from his chair, ignoring Charity's somewhat bewildered look, he concluded, "How nice making your acquaintance, Charity. I'm afraid I must take my leave now. I wish you a pleasant day."

As he turned to leave the classroom, he distinctly heard Charity clasping her hands together and exclaiming, "I'm so glad we're friends!"

What a delusional woman. Severus was certain that one day she would get herself killed.

"So, how did the meetings go, Severus? Did you make any friends?"

Sneering, Severus said, "You know exactly how well they went. Don't tell me you didn't go prying into exactly what had happened at each of them."

While Albus smiled and slightly tilted his head in acknowledgment, Minerva instead frowned.

"I don't know what happened - Albus, you didn't tell me anything. What happened, Severus?"

Severus glared at her. "This is all your fault."

"My fault? I'm sorry, who was it again that took off one hundred points unnecessarily from Gryffindor while physically harming my Quidditch captain?"

"If he hadn't spilled his potion—"

"If you hadn't sabotaged him, you mean—"

"Well, he should have been more careful, anyway—"

"Clearly, you haven't learned your lesson—"

"Minerva, Severus, please," Albus interrupted, although he looked far more amused than what Severus felt was appropriate. "There's no need to squabble like children. I trust that we can all behave as mature adults here?"

After a beat of silence, Minerva finally said, "Fair enough, Headmaster, but as it was my suggestion that Severus widen his nonexistent social circle, I believe that it would be fair for me to hear about what exactly happened during these meetings."

Albus turned to Severus. "Care to share, my boy?"

"No."

"Very well, then," Albus shook his head, as if he was slightly disappointed in Severus's lack of communication. "Now, I don't have all the details, but in the interest of Severus's well-being, I did ask each of the professors how the meetings had transpired. Now, let's see...here are the notes." He passed a parchment to Minerva, who smirked as she took it. Pushing up her glasses, she turned to the first line.

"Professor Trelawney was your first meeting, correct? She wrote, and I quote, 'Death. A tragic death, a deadly one! He does not have the sight, Albus. Our budding seer shall wither away, I'm afraid.'" Minerva looked up and met Severus's eyes. "Are you feeling alright, Severus?"

"Quite fine, now that I don't have to listen to her incessant ramblings about my impending doom."

"Severus!" Albus admonished, although Minerva seemed to agree with Severus's description of Trelawney's 'visions'. She turned back to the parchment.

"Let's see... Next seems to be Professor Binns. You didn't tell me he was socializing with Binns, Albus! That must have been fun. Let's see, he said… oh. 'Sirius Snare has been out of class, that's why he is failing, Albus! Not because of my lectures. Ask the Potter boy to tutor him, if he's doing so poorly.'" Minerva's irritating smile returned to her face. "Sirius? Potter? What exactly did you both talk about, Severus?"

Severus crossed his arms and scowled. "We are not discussing this."

"I didn't get the impression that Mr. Potter was particularly good at History of Magic," Minerva commented thoughtfully. "Why would Binns suggest going to him for tutoring?"

"I believe Professor Binns was referring to the elder Potter," Albus explained to Minerva. "Although it was not his best subject, I suppose he remembered how close James and Sever— I mean, Sirius, were."

Severus's eyes darkened, although he forced himself to remain silent as both Minerva and Albus cackled. Eventually, Minerva turned to the third comment.

"Ah, Filius was next. That couldn't have been too bad, could it?" Minerva asked, causing Severus to groan. She then read, "'Although Severus is no doubt a brilliant Potions Master and instructor, I believe it would be beneficial for him to entertain himself with unrelated hobbies and passions as well.' See, Severus, that's what I've been saying this whole time."

When she looked back down to read what else Flitwick had said, her smile suddenly widened. "'I strongly suggest that Severus join the school choir, Albus. He has a strong baritone which would no doubt enhance every one of our songs. I also have proof that Severus is a fantastic singer, and it would be a shame if he didn't join.'"

Turning to Severus, she mischievously asked, "Proof, Severus? I'm afraid I've never had the pleasure of hearing you sing."

"Neither have I," Dumbledore added. "I'd love to hear as well, Severus."

"No."

"It's not fair that only Filius got to hear you," Minerva wheedled. "Come on—"

"No." After a moment of thought, he added, "Not that Filius has heard me either, for the record."

"Hmm," Minerva grumbled, unimpressed. "I suppose we will have to discuss this new revelation with Filius."

"Yes, we must," Albus piled on unhelpfully. "I happen to agree with Filius, it would be lovely for Severus to join the choir."

As the two continued to discuss this rather unexpected torture method, Severus firmly covered his face with his hand and resisted every impulse to argue with (and frankly, hex) his latest tormentors. Despite his lack of reaction, however, it took quite some time for the laughter to cease and for Minerva to move on.

Adjusting her glasses, she turned to the next parchment. "Alright, Severus, let's see… Hagrid was next, correct? Dear me, Hagrid's handwriting is truly awful," Minerva said, wincing. "Let me see, he said - 'Severus was kind. Was nice to me about my loss." She blinked and looked up. "Kind? Nice?"

"I wasn't kind," Severus insisted.

"I really didn't think you were. What's this about a loss?"

"Yes, about that," Severus turned to the headmaster. "Are you aware that—"

"Severus, I believe you are changing the topic," Albus interrupted. "Minerva, please continue."

Minerva frowned but turned back to the letter. "'I miss Norbert and was very sad. I was not a very good host to Severus. He is welcome to visit me again whenever he likes.'" She looked at Severus. "Who's Norbert?"

"Don't you know?" Severus sneered. "You did say that he 'needed me' that day."

"Because he was crying," Minerva said. "It's not like I knew why."

Severus sighed. It was times like these when he was reminded that the nobility of Gryffindors was highly overrated.

"Anyway, you still haven't answered: who's Norbert?" she asked again.

"A dragon," Severus said bluntly.

Minerva raised her eyebrows. "A dragon? Hagrid has a dragon?"

"He had one," Severus answered. "He called it his baby."

"I believe this is irrelevant—"

"Keeping a dragon is illegal," Minerva said decisively, ignoring Albus's interruption. "Are you sure about this?"

Severus scowled. "Unless half-giants can spew fire, yes, I am sure. Approximately two years ago, Hagrid had a baby dragon in his possession."

Minerva looked shocked, while the headmaster, naturally, looked unsurprised.

"You're saying he kept this in his cabin?" Minerva asked skeptically.

"For a few days, apparently," Severus replied. "I'm not entirely certain of the details."

"A few days with a dragon, no matter its age, would have destroyed Hagrid's hut," Albus put in. "You must have misunderstood, Severus."

Ah, Albus and his savior complex. Severus did suppose that Hagrid could get into serious trouble for keeping a dragon; clearly, Albus was attempting to keep him safe.

Considering what Albus had done for him, Severus supposed he was in no position to argue.

Minerva seemed to grasp the implications of Albus's statement as well, and simply pursued her lips and nodded, clearly deciding to let it slide.

Unfortunately for Severus, that meant that she turned back on him.

"Fine then," Minerva said, taking a deep breath and turning her attention to the last piece of paper. "One final meeting. With Professor Burbage, I believe?"

Severus didn't bother responding.

"Let's see…Oh, wow, she was rather complimentary," she blinked in surprise. "'I am pleased to inform you that Professor Snape is now one of my closest friends,'" Minerva read, causing Severus to actually cringe. "'I thank you for organizing this meeting, Albus. Severus was fantastic company, and I look forward to interacting with him in the future.'"

"That was very kind of Professor Burbage," Albus commented. "See, Severus, I knew you could make friends!"

As he debated whether he should argue that Charity Burbage was not his friend (Severus was aware that would sound rather petty, but did wish to set the record straight), Minerva interrupted.

"Wait, there's a postscript, Albus," she said, squinting at the parchment. "'P.S. - It would be wonderful for Severus to visit a dentist. I believe it would be most beneficial for him. Do encourage him to do so, Albus! Just looking at him made me think he was in dire need of it. I am sending you the business card of the Grangers, should Severus choose to pursue this endeavor." At this, Minerva slammed the parchment on Albus's desk and bellowed with laughter.

Severus, however, irritably crossed his arms. "I do not see what is so amusing, other than the Headmaster's poor choice of Muggle Studies professors. That delusional woman has no knowledge of her subject - she doesn't even know what a dentist really is!"

As Minerva continued to struggle for breath, clutching her sides (yes, choke you insufferable woman), Albus shrugged. "I'm afraid that I too was unfamiliar with the term 'dentist'," he said, pulling something out of his desk. "But based on the business card, I do believe that such a visit would be appropriate for you, Severus."

At this, Minerva removed her glasses with one hand and wiped a tear from her eye as she continued to cackle. Severus grimaced when he read the business card: "Granger Dentistry - Your key to a happier, healthier smile!"

"My teeth are perfectly fine," Severus insisted, glaring at Minerva (still laughing), who for some unfathomable reason was familiar with dentistry. "Potions are far more beneficial than muggle dentistry, anyway."

"It's not about your teeth, Severus, don't take things so literally," Albus said calmly. "It's about what would make you happier - and, as the card implies, healthier as well. I have a good mind to schedule an appointment for you myself. You could use a laugh."

"Al—Albus," Minerva said, trying to catch her breath. "I don't think you understand - a dentist isn't—" she collapsed into another fit of laughter.

Albus waited patiently, somewhat bewildered at Minerva's reaction, but Severus had had enough. He abruptly stood up, snatched the business card from Albus's hands, and walked out the door without turning back. As the door closed behind him, the echoes of Minerva's laughter rang louder in his head, which Severus physically tried to shake off.

Well, he had learned his lesson. Both Minerva and Albus could be certain of that.

Clearly, Severus should never attempt to socialize with dunderheads again.