Author's note: When I went in for my term paper consultation, my prof said that the only issue with my proposal is they're looking for six pages and the things I want to research will fill a dissertation, LOL. I was reminded of that when I sat down to write this, and how it started with a one-shot. I'm evidently one of those people who doesn't know "when to hold their tongue," as Snape thinks in this chapter. Anyway, I hope that you enjoy it. Please review!

Guest: Thank you! In my opinion, Dumbledore didn't need any assistance, he was just interested in Snape's reaction (and perhaps in annoying him). Re: the Mark, I actually hadn't thought that through, but now that you bring it up, it makes sense that it would still burn a little since Voldemort isn't completely gone; and you're right about the shut up/be quiet thing, I've gone back and changed both of those. I tried writing an "overview" scene of the summer, including Severus berating Dumbledore for the House Cup thing, but it didn't think it flowed well into the beginning of the year. I'm stockpiling the "arrogant self-obsessed useless professor who is completely brainless" description! When it comes to Lupin vs. Lockhart, that's a tough call. My initial reaction is Lupin, because not only does Snape have to tolerate him, he has to brew Wolfsbane for him, but then again, Snape really does hate dunderheads!

Warnings: Swearing

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I referenced pages 62-64 of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets while writing this.

A Fresh Start in Hell, Take One

Another school year was on the verge of commencing, and Harry Potter was nowhere in sight. While there could have been many reasons for this, the reality of it was that while the rest of the students had been on the Hogwarts Express, Potter had been flying over Britain in an enchanted Ford fucking Anglia, which likely belonged to the father of his sidekick, Ronald Weasley; Arthur Weasley was infamous for his obsession with muggle inventions—nobody else would have a bewitched car at their disposal.

The stunt had made the Evening Prophet—FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES—which had been delivered as the teachers were gathering in the Great Hall before the Welcoming Feast. Understandably, it had caused a stir. Minerva's eyebrows had practically disappeared into her hairline, and considering that her hair was pulled back in a tight coil, that was quite the achievement. Upon the realization of Potter's and Weasley's absences, Dumbledore had sent Severus to watch for the boys.

He circled the courtyard, ranting to himself in his head, for he had better things to do than play search party. When he heard a crash and distant shouting, he began retracing his steps. Clearly, Potter and Weasley had arrived.

The Whomping Willow, which had previously been still, was lashing out violently, broken twigs falling to the ground. Some larger limbs had been ripped away and already lay fallen, and a large portion of the bark had peeled off. It appeared that the Gryffindors and their flying car had gotten into a bit of a fight with the tree. The miscreants were making their way up the front steps of the castle.

A hopeful, vindictive thrill went through Potions professor: The severity of this offence was such that Dumbledore might actually expel Potter. True, that would not be an ideal situation when it came to protecting the brat, but at that moment, the idea seemed most appealing.

The boys had their faces pressed up against a window that looked into the Great Hall and didn't hear Severus approach.

"… he's ill!" Weasley was exclaiming hopefully.

"Maybe he's left," suggested Potter, with equal enthusiasm, "because he missed out on the Defence Against the Dark Arts job again!"

Severus sneered, stopping behind them. He may have been irritated that Dumbledore still refused to give him the Defence position, even after all these years, but he wasn't going to throw a fit and resign over it.

"Or he might have been sacked! I mean, everyone hates him-"

"Or maybe," Severus chose that moment to interject, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."

Potter and Weasley spun around. Both children wore looks of horror, and Severus gave them his best, predatory smirk.

"Follow me."

He led them down to the dungeons and into his office. They followed him with their metaphorical tails tucked between their legs. He noticed Potter eyeing the shadowy walls, lined with shelves of substance-filled jars, with apprehension. He smirked again before turning to face them.

"So," he said softly, "the train isn't good enough for the famous Harry Potter and his faithful sidekick Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a bang, did we, boys?" Dumbledore would probably disapprove of the wording if he heard what Severus was saying, but Dumbledore wasn't there.

"No, sir, it was the barrier at King's Cross, it-"

"Silence! What have you done with the car?" Severus unrolled the day's edition of the Evening Prophet and brandished it in their faces. "You were seen. 'Two muggles in London,'" he read, "'convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower … at noon in Norfolk, Missus Hett Bayliss, while hanging out her washing … Mister Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to police…' six or seven muggles in all."

He zeroed in on the ginger-haired boy. "I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office? Dear, dear… his own son..." A pause. "I noticed, in my search of the park, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable Whomping Willow."

"That tree did more damage to us than we-"

"Silence!" For Merlin's sake, some people just did not know when to hold their tongue. "Most unfortunately, you are not in my house and the decision to expel you does not rest with me. I shall go and fetch the people who do have that happy power. You will wait here."

Dinner was underway and Dumbledore was immersed in a three-way conversation with Septima Vector, the Arithmancy professor, and Minerva.

"Headmaster, Potter and Weasley are in my office," he interrupted, lip curling. "Alas, they are in one piece, although my office may no longer be."

"Thank you, Severus. Why don't you go," Dumbledore said, nodding to Minerva. "I will join you shortly."

Half-joking though Severus had been, it was a relief that Potter and his sycophant had, for possibly the first time ever, done as they were told and stayed put. From the looks on their faces, however, they regretted their compliance.

"Sit," Minerva ordered. Severus may have been the much-hated, much-feared git of the dungeons, but Minerva McGonagall was not a witch to be trifled with.

"Explain."

As Weasley launched into a story about the barrier to the platform being blocked, Severus rolled his eyes. Intelligent people did not break multiple laws when deterred from their destination, they either waited for help or sought it out. Arthur and Molly would have come back through after seeing off their other rug-rats; Potter could have notified Minerva via his owl; there was any number of solutions that did not involve use of underage magic and risking the security of an entire population.

Minerva evidently agreed. "Why didn't you send us a letter by owl?" she asked, fixing Potter with an icy look. "I believe you have an owl?"

Potter gaped at her. "I- I didn't think-"

"That is obvious."

Severus hadn't seen Minerva so angry in a while, not even after the episode with the troll the previous year. This was fantastic.

A knock on the door prompted Severus to open it, revealing a Dumbledore who looked unusually grave.

There was a long silence. Then Dumbledore said, "Please explain why you did this."

Potter repeated what Weasley had told Minerva, staring at his shoes all the while. Good, so the boy had some degree of shame. His father sure hadn't had any.

"We'll go and get our stuff," said Weasley sadly, after another long pause, during which Dumbledore simply peered at them with an unreadable expression on his face and disappointment in his eyes.

"What are you talking about, Weasley?" Minerva asked, sounding tired of dealing with the issue.

"Well, you're expelling us, aren't you?"

"Not today, Mister Weasley," Dumbledore answered. What a pity. "But I must impress upon both of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to both your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you.

Did Dumbledore not remember to whom he was speaking? Of course Potter would do more imbecilic things, the boy thought he was entitled to let other people think for him. If the Headmaster was going to go about making such threats, he might as well just expel the pair now.

"Professor Dumbledore," Severus spoke up, "these boys have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused serious damage to an old and valuable tree… surely acts of this nature-"

"It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on these boys' punishments, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly. "They are in her house and therefore her responsibility." He turned to the head lioness. "I must go back to the feast, Minerva, I've got to give out a few notices. Come, Severus, here's a delicious-looking custard tart I want to sample."

Severus allowed himself to be herded from his office, but not without shooting Potter and Weasley a last look, filled with all the vitriol he could muster. They couldn't even make it one bloody day without inconveniencing him.

And so began another year at Hogwarts.