5th Movement
Severus Snape had recently come to a surprising realization.
He was losing his mind.
And he didn't care.
Unable to sleep that night, he had spent the few remaining hours of darkness staring into the fire in his chambers, but seeing instead the flame of a candle splashing beams of light on a pair of lily-white hands.
He never ate much in the great hall, but this morning he never even finished filling his plate. All his waking thoughts were consumed by images of the dark goddess who created such beautiful music.
As he strode into his classroom, he was relieved that he had seventh years first. There were only about a dozen students remaining in his advanced potions class, between the weeding out of failures and the casualties of war. And those who had survived both the war and his grueling grading could, for the most part, take care of themselves with minimal effort on his part.
He usually graded papers or potions during this time, only occasionally looking up to make sure no one had set themselves on fire or inadvertently poisoned their partner.
Waving a hand, instructions appeared on the blackboard behind him.
"You know the drill," he sneered.
Taking a stack of second year essays to mark, he picked up a quill and settled in for a few hours of grading.
Forty-five minutes later, the same essay was still lying on the desk in front of him, unread and unmarked.
Severus looked up to find a puzzled Ravenclaw standing in front of his desk, apparently awaiting an answer to whatever question he had just asked. And Severus had no idea what that was.
"Well, don't just stand there, Mr. Boot, speak up," Severus snarled, angered at being caught unawares.
"Sir, it's just- well, I'm done."
"And are you finished, as well?" Snape smirked.
"Ye- yes, sir," the confused boy stammered.
For a Head Boy, Severus thought to himself, Boot wasn't all that bright.
Obviously someone thought his jab humorous, as he heard a smothered giggle from the back left of the dungeon.
The part of the room he tried to avoid. Hermione Granger's part of the room.
Of course the know-it-all Gryffindor would get the joke, he thought bitterly to himself.
"You may leave, Mr. Boot," Severus said dismissively, "Homework is eighteen inches on the properties of the five main ingredients in the potion you just completed."
Terry Boot quickly gathered his things and vacated the room at a brisk trot.
Sighing, Severus returned to staring into space in the general direction of the parchment in front of him.