Chapter 12: A Room of His Own

Chapter 12

A Room of His Own

Candles were lit sporadically around the large room. She couldn't help but wonder how he had managed to get such a nice room. Even being Professor Snape's nephew it didn't make any sense. She supposed it had to do with his powers or one of the other mysteries surrounding him. He was rather secretive about everything, but she was sure there was a good reason why he had his own room.

He sat down on the bed while she looked around in a state resembling shock. There was a large bookcase, next to a desk and dresser, which was filled with books. A lot of them were really old. She looked back at him with her mouth open in wonderment, "Can I borrow some of these sometime?"

"Some of them, probably. Others not. Most of them are not what you would consider Hogwarts' kind of books. I'd have to ask Professor Snape."

She looked back at the books and began to notice that almost half of them had titles that hinted about the Dark Arts. She turned to look at the rest of the room. In the corner near the bed was a large hard leather case in a very strange shape, she let it pass. The table next to his bed had a few potion bottles on it and two books. Nowhere in the room did she see any pictures. That struck her as rather peculiar. There was a very comfortable looking black leather chair over by the bed where he was sitting and in front of it a very small fireplace. It probably shared a floo with the one in the common room. Hermione was amazed at how nice it was. When she turned, she noticed a quidditch banner, she wasn't sure but she thought it was Chudley Cannons, Ron's favorite team.

"Do you like quidditch?" She asked him with a confused look on her face.

"Of course, is there any decent wizard that doesn't?" He returned.

Hermione smiled, "Professor Snape."

It was his turn to smirk, it was almost more of a maniacal grin, "And who said that he doesn't?"

Her mouth dropped open completely, she staggered and then dropped down in the leather chair and angled it to face him. "You mean?"

"Yes, he loves it. Just don't say anything. He likes to keep things private you know. Anyway, it is quite judgmental to think that someone who is an academic would not like quidditch."

She looked down sheepishly, "You two, erm, just don't look like the type."

"Mmm, and I'm sure I am the type that looks as if he would play the guitar?"

"Point taken."

"People make lots of judgement about me and my uncle I've noticed." He muttered. She chose to ignore it wisely, there was no need to bring any bitterness to their conversation.

"You have a really nice room, the fireplace is cozy."

He let out a huff of air that was a kind of aggravated laugh. "More of an immense annoyance. I think it's there so that Professor Snape can make sure that I am studying and not being corrupted by rogue, rule-breaking Gryffindors."

Hermione laughed slightly before stopping herself. Sage didn't seem to think it was so funny. "Does he really check up on you often?"

"Yes, of course he does. Makes sure that I don't have any girls in here, you know."

She stiffened with absolute fright. Sage slowly let his evil smile give himself away. She slapped him on the shoulder in mock anger. "Actually," he said, "he pokes his head in here every so often. The official purpose of the fireplace is so that I can summon him quickly if I have an attack. In reality, I think it's more to make sure I am behaving as befits me."

"Behaving as befits you? That sounds rather stuffy."

Sage cleared his throat and stared at her lightly. "Yes, how did you put it," he began, "for being such a high and mighty, mannered, pureblood."

He picked up the guitar off his bed. It was a metallic looking black with a slight hugh of midnight blue. He held the dark wooded neck tightly and then looked at her.

"So, are you going to ask me hundreds more questions or do you want to listen to me play?"

Sage sat in the potion's classroom the next night tapping his fingers on the table in front of him. He was staring at the space in front of him intently. His mentor and uncle was grading papers at his desk. He was very busy writing comments all over his second year essays, no doubt most of them were negative, as he was shaking his head throughout the process.

Focus, Focus, Focus. Argh, I can't focus, Sage thought continuing to tap his fingers. He narrowed his eyes and stared harder.

"Would you quit that infernal tapping!"

Sage looked up at the diligent professor, "Sorry, sir."

Sage put his hands flat on the table and continued to stare in front of him, his eyelids twitching every few moments. How am I supposed to do this when I can't concentrate? That damn leather case and its damn scrolls. It just keeps invading my mind. "I can't do it," he muttered to himself.

Snape snapped his head up and looked pointedly at Sage. "What are you on about now? Tapping, talking to yourself. Are you trying to annoy me?"

"No." Sage looked down and closed his eyes.

"Then what?" Snape asked bitterly.

"It's just, I, can't do it."

Severus stood up and walked over to him. Sage could feel it coming on and he could feel his body shrink in response. Snape crossed his arms on his chest and stared down with ferocity welling up inside his eyes.

"That is not acceptable. It has only been twenty minutes, if you are that impatient you will not get very far with your training. I would not think you would give up so easily. Very disappointing Sage, I thought your ability to focus was much stronger than that."

"Normally it is, uncle."

Severus huffed and then growled, "Normally is not good enough. You need to have it about you all of the time, in any situation, amidst distraction. If you cannot manage to focus in my classroom with nothing around you, how will you focus when your life depends upon it?"

"I don't know, sir." He felt like a child. Like the seven year old child Professor Snape had lectured day in and day out.

His uncle sat down in front of him and stared him down. "I thought that you would be able to teach yourself this on your own, but I see I need to walk you through it."

And with an obvious tone of condescension, he instructed Sage through the process, making sure the boy knew such hand-holding should not be a regular thing.

Muggle Studies class was quite interesting to him, after all he had been living in a house that knew little detail about muggles and did not really care to know anything more than was necessary. Professor Snape found most of them to be boisterous, rude, ignorant, and rather annoying. Sage couldn't imagine living without any magic, he had never known anything else, so the way muggles managed day by day was fairly fascinating.

He remembered when he had told his uncle he wanted to take the class. Severus had told him that it was "extracurricular" and that if he was taking that class, he'd have to take two other "real" classes. Severus had almost told him the same thing about Care of Magical Creatures, but when Sage suggested Divination, the Potions master readily allowed him to take the other class as one of his obligatory two. Sage never had any intention of taking Divination, from what he had heard about the class, Sage had far more abilities in the Divination area than the old witch could ever hope to have. On top of that Sage did not even like Divination, he just happened to be stuck with his skills. His other class was Ancient Runes, another his uncle would have fought him about if he had not made the point that Severus hated Professor Vector and that Severus would be better able to teach him anything about Arithmancy he needed to know.

A Slytherin girl sat next to him in their Muggle Studies class almost everyday, and she was fairly intelligent. She was a fourth year, who happened to drop Divination after taking it her third year, so she added Muggle Studies this year and was taking both the third and fourth year classes at one time. Professor Snape had let him in on the secret that she was probably going to be a prefect her fifth year. Which was to say that his uncle did not think she was such a bad influence on him. They were just ending the topic of muggle communications and were talking about telephones.

Much to his surprise, the telephone was quite an ingenious invention as was the cellular phone which he did not quite understand how it worked without magic. After all, it was not hooked up to anything. Hermione had told them the story about Ron calling Harry on the phone and not knowing how to use it. Everyone was in a fit of giggles afterwards. Sage rolled him eyes, Weasley really was a little thick.

The professor smiled after everyone was done laughing, "Well, on that note, we'll leave our discussion on communications and move into an introduction to what we'll be talking about for the next few weeks. This should be quite enjoyable for you all as we will be dealing with muggle entertainment. The topics we will cover will be television, motion picture, internet, video games, theater, dancing, and music."

A blonde girl in the front raised her hand.

"Yes?" the professor asked.

"Can we watch a real movie - I can bring one from home?"

The professor smiled, she was just the sort of witch you would imagine teaching Muggle Studies. "Of course dear, I was hoping one of our muggle-born students would be able to help us out with that." She turned to Hermione who was now also raising her hand with a very excited look on her face.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione's smile was so large, Sage wondered if her face hurt to smile like that. "Can we hear real muggle music too?"

"Sure, if you'll provide us with some."

Her face looked so triumphant, Sage picked up on the fact that it was particularly out of place. "Certainly, I can arrange something," she answered enigmatically.

Class ended before any other students could make suggestions like going to see a real play in London or a real movie. Professor Snape would bust a nerve if Sage had to tell them that they were going into London.

The Slytherin girl he sat next to, Amanda something, the Slytherin quidditch keeper, walked out with him.

"It amazes me the things that muggles do with their free time. Do you realize that many of them never read for pleasure?" She asked.

Sage shrugged, "It is really strange. I guess it is hard for us to imagine."

They chit-chatted for a few minutes before she split off from him to head toward the dungeons and the Slytherin dormitories. Hermione took the opportunity to come up to him. He looked down at her as they walked with what might have been a very slight smile. She grinned at him devilishly.

"Sage, I think you should play for our Muggle Studies class," she blurted out finally.

"What!" he said loudly in surprise. When he realized that everyone was now looking at them he kept his voice down. "Are you serious? No, I will not. Did you not catch the fact that I am not comfortable with everyone hearing me play. Or did you not think of the fact that Professor Snape would have my head on a platter if I advertised the fact that I play the guitar."

She patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind if it's for class."

"Hermione, no. Just, no. No way. And he would mind. A Snape in a Muggle Studies class is enough for him to swallow, a Snape playing the guitar in a Muggle Studies class is like expecting him to swallow his pride whole."

"Oh, you are over-reacting."

He gaped at her and then his face quickly shifted into a calculated glare.

"No, I am not."

She smiled and lifted her head up. "We'll see," she said as she walked away from him toward the library.