CHAPTER FIFTEEN—Tarnished

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The students were set to arrive tomorrow evening and Severus was still twenty-years-old. He fastened the last three buttons at the top of his frock coat before grabbing his scroll of notes off his desk. As he stepped into the hallway, frigid air from deeper dungeon corridors sounded like a moan.

He had a long walk from his rooms to the Great Hall for lunch. He read over his copy of Septima's notes.

An occasional rune was scrawled in a different hand. Walter must have worked with her on these, he thought.

Severus couldn't decide if Walter was lucky to be back to his normal state or if he had been gypped of some second chance at youth. Severus didn't particularly want to relive his younger years, but he would admit, reluctantly, that he felt healthy. He could rotate his head properly, stretch his back without shooting pains. The frequency of his headaches had decreased as well. But that might be attributed to the decreased amount of teeth-grinding, which would be attributed to a decreased amount of Death Eater gatherings.

The young professor clenched his eyes shut. He tried to remember a Death Eater meeting but could only remember being branded with his Dark Mark.

Perhaps that is something better left un-remembered, he thought as he sighted the grey stones of the dungeons giving way to the marble floor of the Entrance Hall.

He had his palm on the door to the Great Hall when he heard voices coming from behind. Severus turned to see the group of students descending the Grand Staircase.

They're your students, he reminded himself. 'Mione walked between Luna and Longbottom. Ahead of them, Brown and Weasley stumbled awkwardly down the stairs, since his arm was around her shoulders. Miss Weasley was chatting with Minerva.

Severus walked into the Great Hall without waiting for them. A week ago, he had been asking Ron and Neville to get a book off the mantle for him; now he was using their surnames, aware that he gave Longbottom the shakes and Ron was not the first Weasley to spend Potions class doodling unflattering pictures of him.

Things were easier a week ago. But he had also been ignorant a week ago. He now knew why Neville wouldn't put together puzzles with him last week, and why Ron never wanted to talk about homework in front of Sevvie. It was because they despised him.

Putting up with the Potions professor now that they saw him building snowmen on the front lawn meant almost nothing. When he returned to his normal age, they would despise him again.

Severus took his seat at the Head Table, purposely keeping his thoughts on the male eighth-years instead of their older, female counterpart.

'Mione came in laughing with the group. Even Minnie was tittering, which had never been a common sight when Severus was a student.

Should I become a student myself? he wondered. 'Mione is twenty and still a student. Weasley and Longbottom are past the age of majority now.

Severus ignored the colleagues taking their seats on either side. Ever since they had aged, the staff members had been sitting at the high table, each taking roughly the same seats every day. They hadn't discussed it, hadn't assigned seats. They just knew their customary spots.

Minnie would sit between Severus and Albus; Filius would sit on the headmaster's other side. If Aurora arrived before Fleur, she would sit next to Severus. Hagrid sat near the opposite end with Filch, Madam Pomfrey, and Madam Pince. Septima and Walter always sat together—Severus's brain always niggled when he saw young Septima with normal Walter. Unfortunately, Rolanda and Pomona took seats close enough to be in Severus's hearing-range every day.

The students congregated at the end of the Gryffindor table, as far away as they could be from the Head Table. Hermione looked up at Severus and waited a bit for him to look up. Since he kept his head down, she gave up.

Aurora came in and caught up to Minnie's stride. The two passed the swing set, which had sat unused since the night the professors had metamorphosed. The Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables were still askew and would need to be righted before tomorrow.

Septima leaned across the table, barely visible over Albus's and Filius's white beards. "I hope those notes were legible, Severus."

He nodded, pouring a cup of coffee by hand instead of with magic. He was still a bit shaky in the non-verbal spells, and even worse when liquids were involved.

"I don't know why you three are so eager to return to normal," Walter chimed in over his cuppa. "Being young again was most exhilarating."

"I'm a sixth-year, now, Walter," Aurora said as she sat down. "Would you like to take your N.E.W.T.s again?"

Albus chuckled. "No one is retaking their classes or their N.E.W.T.s."

"And when the Ministry catches wind of this?" Minerva straightened the front of her green jacket. "They may not be so carefree about our lack of education."

"The students are coming back tomorrow," Septima stressed.

"They're going to have a field day," Aurora said, tossing up her hands and slumping in her chair. "And with the Prophet nearby…"

Dumbledore reminded her, "Reporters are not allowed within the school."

Severus watched Albus's wrinkled hands grasp a knife and fork to slice his steak. The headmaster hadn't been able to do that for months. Whatever dust he had used had cured him completely of the Dark Lord's curse.

Severus couldn't think of anyone, short of Dumbledore or Nicolas Flamel, who could draft such a spell.

Aurora leaned closer to see if Severus had jotted anything down on Septima's notes. The three had been working, along with Fleur and correspondence with Bill, to figure out a counter spell. Fleur, Hagrid, and Poppy had held Fawkes down to scrape all the dust off his plumage. Albus had apparently needed to feed the distressed bird several bags of cinnamon candies to earn forgiveness after such trauma.

"I feel rather useless," Aurora sighed. Her head hung limp above her porridge. Minerva set down her silverware in empathy. "The stars aren't very helpful in figuring out who cursed us, or how to fix it."

"We can worry about who did it later," Minerva said.

Aurora leaned over Severus. "If we knew, we could just ask them to fix it!"

"Who is to say they know how to reverse their own work?" Severus murmured. Thankfully he remembered how to soothe his rattled Slytherins—quiet tones and a reminder that other people couldn't be relied on to fix your problems.

Aurora crossed her arms and pouted.

"Snape has already started to upset the young ones," Hooch sniggered as she walked behind the dark-haired trio. "Perhaps he'll find other people to haunt besides the young witches, eh?" She nudged Sprout in the ribs.

Severus glared at her, his eyes more acidic than the snake bite that had ravaged his neck. Aurora slammed her chair back, about to jump to her feet. Severus grabbed her wrist beneath the table, then quickly withdrew—Hooch didn't need any more fodder for her ridiculous accusations.

Dumbledore gazed at them all, nothing stronger than a frown for rebuke.

"It appears the least matured of us are the least qualified to teach," Severus remarked to Minerva without removing his eyes from the Quidditch referee. "We can only hope the students don't get confused as to who is an adult and who should be counted among their peers."

Hooch scowled at them all before turning up her nose. Sprout didn't turn towards Severus, but kept her chair angled away.

The snub coupled with Pomona's continued fear spawned a vicious hate in Severus's guts, so much so that it bubbled up Severus's esophagus; he didn't think he could swallow coffee. He poured over the notes alone, Aurora sitting pin straight and red-faced in her chair, Minerva grinding rashers between her teeth so that she wouldn't hiss.

LINE

Ron held up his goblet of pumpkin juice. "Let's have a toast—to our final term at Hogwarts!"

The five Gryffindors and lone Ravenclaw held up their tea cups and glasses. "Graduation!" Ginny said.

"Graduation!" the rest repeated.

"Neville's gonna apprentice at one of the million apothecaries begging to take him," Ron sniggered.

"And Luna's going to put that horrid Skeeter out of business," Hermione added.

Ginny pointed her goblet across the table. "'Mione's gonna work for the Ministry while I score goals at the World Cup."

Ron elbowed her, laughing despite Ginny's very serious career choice. "Aurory, here I come."

"Lavender will supply either love potions," Neville chuckled, "or all the lipstick Hogwarts can hold."

Lavender blushed, still convinced her idea to make perfumes and eye shadows was silly.

"I can't wait to get out," Ron said, stretching his arms above his head. "It's been a long eight years, let's put it that way."

"I think we'll miss it," Hermione said.

"No doubt," Neville agreed. "But it will be nice to do something, make some galleons."

"How was yesterday's Transfiguration lesson, 'Mione?" Ginny asked. She spread butter on her toast.

"Oh, you know." She shrugged. "Enlightening."

She hadn't turned into an animal, but she had observed the new—or was it old?—Minerva McGonagall at work. It was…different.

Halfway through the three-hour lecture, Minerva forgot how to explain the feeling of fur sprouting between her skin cells. She became flustered when she couldn't put into words how bones melted into one another and her spine shrunk, so she kept changing back into a cat, trying to seek out what to say.

'Mione was also able to distract the professor with questions on how it felt to age almost twenty years over night—Professor McGonagall was never one to digress.

It must be something an educator grows-out of, Hermione thought, looking at the Head Table again. Severus grabbed Professor Sinistra's hand under the table. At least, that's what it looked like. Hermione blinked; Professor Sinistra was glaring down at her bowl and Severus was reading his parchment again.

That was…odd, she thought.

Minerva, Severus, and Aurora sat in a row, their hair varied shades of black. The three could be siblings. Or one of them could be his wife, her brain muttered.

Minerva wasn't too worried about returning to her real age. "Walter put himself to rights soon enough, I suppose," she had said. But then she looked in the mirror on the wall. She gave her reflection a sad smile. "I must look like a fool, though. An old lady that looks like a lass."

Fleur stood by the swing set and waved the group over.

"Welp, looks like we should do that before we stuff ourselves anymore," Ron said as he got up.

"Where are we putting it again?" Neville asked. "The Room of Requirement?"

Luna said, "I think it's going in the room next door."

"Let's take off ze swings so zey don't get tangled around anyzing," Fleur said as soon as they walked up. She flicked her wand, unhooking the metal chains from the top bar. Ron and Neville clutched them in their arms, surprised at how heavy the seat and coils were.

Ginny and Luna held the wooden bench swing between them. Professor Flitwick charmed the doors open from his seat at the Head Table. Hermione levitated the swing set off the ground. Fleur levitated the benches and tables out of the way then led them to the next room over.

"I wonder if we should let ze first-years play on ze swings, put zem outside," Fleur said as the six trotted past.

"Then everyone will want to play on them," Neville huffed, looping the metal chain around his arms again so he wouldn't trip. "We don't have nearly enough to satisfy everyone."

"It will be just another Hogwarts secret some trouble-makers will find," Ginny snickered to Luna and Hermione.

"Let's keep it a secret," Hermione said. She had made some interesting memories on this plain, chrome swing set. She would hate for it to be smudged and scuffed by people being too careless with it. "At least until we graduate."

Hermione levitated the swing set to the floor as she yawned.

"You look tired," Neville remarked, dumping his swing at his feet.

"I suppose I am. Huh." No one had told her she looked tired since before Christmas. "I guess getting the kids to bed on time made me go to bed on time."

"I wouldn't now the feeling," Ron interjected. "Sybill went to bed whenever she bloody well pleased and not a minute before."

"Oh Rolanda gave us so much trouble," Ginny said. "Refusing to get in bed—but as soon as she did, she was out."

"I will miss them, that way," Luna said. At her side, Fleur agreed, both blondes looking a bit wistful.