17 Nov 1991, Sunday
The very next morning, after breakfast, Hermione was summoned from her dorm to her Head of House's office. They had all just settled down in their common room to finish up their homework assignments for the weekend. As Hermione let out a sigh, she packed away her inkwell, quills, parchment, and textbooks, and then asked that the boys watch her bag for her. Harry adamantly shook his head.
"I think we oughta go with you, 'Mione," Harry glanced at Draco who nodded in the affirmative.
She smiled at her friends, and watched as they packed up their supplies, too.
Upon entering Snape's office, the Potions Master was about to send Draco and Harry back to their House when Harry shook his head firmly.
"I really think me and Draco need to stay, Dad. Please? It's important." Snape considered the request, and then finally nodded curtly. He conjured two more chairs, more comfortable than the normal straight-backed wooden ones he kept in his office for his students, and then he Transfigured the two uncomfortable ones to match the new ones.
Snape then ordered tea and Digestible biscuits that were laced with a Calming Potion. He knew that Hermione would not take well the news of her parents arrest and didn't want to load up her stomach with something that would upset it. He almost thought to give the boys something else to nibble on, but then decided that should they display any indignant outbursts on their friend's behalf, the biscuits would temper the worst of such emotion.
The Floo in Snape's office then whooshed green and Lucius stepped through. He removed the soot from his clothing with a swish of his wand and smiled when he heard, "Papa! What are you doing here?"
Draco rushed to his father's side, but halted just short of giving him a quick hug. Lucius was allowing his son to show him more of his affectionate nature, but when others were around, Draco still hesitated. Narcissa had explained to her husband that their son was at that age where he wanted hugs from his parents, but he was beginning to feel, at least in front of his friends, that he was too old for such a show. Lucius removed the glove from one hand and touched his son's cheek in place of a hug. Draco grinned happily, and then moved back to sit beside Hermione.
"I've come for tea," Lucius answered his son's unasked question as he removed his other glove and then his robe which Snape took and put on the clothes tree. He then seated himself opposite the children.
"Is mother all right?" asked Draco conversationally.
"She had a long night helping Professor Snape and I with a problem so she is still abed," replied Lucius as he took the cup of tea that Snape offered. "I think your mother would welcome a Floo call from you later today, Dragon."
Draco nodded firmly. "Sure, Papa."
Silence then fell a bit awkwardly until Snape cleared his throat for attention. His gaze dropped to Hermione. "Miss Granger, a letter came for you last Monday, and due to circumstances you were unable to read it. Prefect Anglaise found the letter and wisely brought it to me."
"Who was it from, sir?" she asked with trepidation.
"Jean and George Granger," it was Lucius who spoke. Hermione noticed that her sponsor had not called them her parents, and this began a tiny seed of worried panic fluttering just beneath her breastbone.
"Wh-what did they... should I read the..." Hermione's Head of House shook his head slowly, and she could only swallow dryly.
Snape added to his negative, silent response, "I do feel it would be to your benefit to read their letter, Miss Granger... but not at this time."
Harry gripped Hermione's left hand when she sniffled, and Draco gently laced his fingers in his friend's right hand. "Please, sir," Hermione whispered hoarsely, "I don't want to read it, but did they... can you tell me what they said?"
Snape stiffened, and his expression was like stone. His eyes burned, though, with the disapproval he felt for the child's inadequate parents. "Jean and George Granger have agreed that neither of them can come to terms with having a magical child." Tears began to silently course down Hermione's cheeks. "I am afraid that I must also inform you, Miss Granger, that this is not a simple business. Due to neglect, and a..." furtively the dark eyes flicked over to Lucius. The older man nodded once. "I am very sorry to inform you, Hermione, that Jean Granger attempted to replace you with a child that had been kidnapped. This was discovered yesterday when I and the Malfoys went to investigate the situation."
Hermione let out a gasp of shock and disbelief. Deep down she had always known her mother had disapproved of her, had been disappointed, and it had been even worse after she received her Hogwarts letter. Her father, who really had been an apathetic source, had actively begun to avoid her. That hurt, and it would probably hurt for a long time, but she was appalled that another child had had to suffer because of her.
"I'm so sorry," she mumbled sadly. "I never meant to hurt them like this. To make them take someone else's daughter? I am so sorry," she apologised.
"What is this?" demanded Lucius. Hermione glanced over at her sponsor, the elegant gentleman who wrote to her once a week with questions about her studies, who had come with his wife to visit her in the Infirmary, and had even sent her a Howler. Lucius had been more a father to her in the short time as her sponsor than her own flesh and blood had been. And, like a father, he was indignant on her behalf. "You will not blame yourself for the inadequacies and deficiencies of these people who should have been more than just parents to you, Hermione." His silvery-grey eyes flashed like diamonds and his cane cracked once on the floor, startling them all.
A grimace set on his face, it crumbled briefly as Lucius saw Hermione's quiet tears, and the confusion, and pain, all written in her features. He held out his arms and beckoned. With a squeeze of hands from Draco and Harry, they let go, and Hermione ran to Lucius Malfoy. He scooped the little girl up into his lap. Hermione buried her head in his shoulder and let more tears fall.
"You are a treasure, my girl," he said softly into her bushy hair. "They were thoughtless, cruel, and selfish and do not deserve a child as bright, and as lovely as you are."
"No. They don't." Hermione's voice was hard, for just a moment, and then she broke down into fresh tears.
For several long moments the atmosphere was uneasy in the Potions Master's office as the little girl cried. Harry fidgeted, tried to stay still, and then gave up. He left his chair, and despite the hard expression on his father's face, he leaned against the older man. Snape kept his eyes on Hermione, but his arm did drift over Harry's shoulder.
Draco felt at a loss once Harry went to his father. Draco glanced at his father, whose concentration was on Hermione, and then he looked to Harry, and he felt just a bit jealous. To his surprise, Snape let out an aggrieved sigh, and motioned for the boy to come over to his other side. Draco nearly jumped from his chair, and settled happily against his teacher's free side. It was even better when a heavy arm draped comfortingly over his shoulders.
Hermione's tears, her grief at the fact that her parents not only didn't want her anymore, was a little more bearable now. Not easy to listen to, but waiting for her waterworks to stop wasn't as hard. Harry and Draco were more patient, and when Snape noted that the tell-tale hitching in Hermione's voice held an end to the current bout of tears, he nudged the two boys back to their chairs.
Hermione felt awful-awful, but she also felt terrible because Lucius, such an impeccable dresser, was the recipient of "kid muck" on his clothing. She started to apologise for that, but he Scourgified away the tears, and other mess on his shoulder, and conjured a handkerchief for Hermione to clean her face.
"What's going to happen to them?" Hermione asked Lucius, as she looked up into his face with red-rimmed eyes.
It was Snape who answered that question. "Jean Granger is being brought up on charges for complicity in the felony of a kidnapping. After her interview, they added charges of neglect. George Granger was also charged with neglect, but it is doubtful he will serve any time."
Hermione nodded her head, still facing Lucius. The finger on her left hand was tracing the silver and emerald snake brooch he always wore on the lapel of his suit jackets.
The girl then asked, "What about me? What's going to happen to me?" Her voice sounded very small, and worried.
Again, it was Snape who gave the answer, his tone cold, dry, and matter-of-fact. "For now, Hermione Granger has gone missing. It will be discovered in a few months time that she died from exposure after running away."
Hermione was quiet for a long moment. She turned slightly on Lucius' lap as she eyed him, then Harry, then Draco, and then Snape. After twice more glancing between the wizards, she spoke, her voice sounded lost, "I won't ever be able to go back? To the Muggle world?"
Lucius slowly shook his head. "Do you wish to go back?" he then asked.
Hermione was clearly conflicted. Her confusion made her seem so much younger than her eleven years. Regardless of how terrible her parents had been to her, she did still love them. It also hurt, a dull throb in her chest, that they had so easily rid themselves of her.
Suddenly tired, Hermione didn't want to do anything more than sleep for a very long time. She leaned against Lucius' chest, grasping the edge of his robes, and drawing them over her face. As she drew in the clean scent of vetiver from his robes, and the scent of soap, Hermione imagined herself being very small. In her drifting thoughts she imagined being protected, cared for, truly loved.
Lucius stood up, cradling the child to his chest. Snape seemed to understand what was needed and revealed the hidden door in his office to his private quarters. He opened it.
"Harry, show Mr. Malfoy to your bedroom so your friend may get some rest," ordered Snape quietly.
"Sure thing, Dad. C'mon, Mr. Malfoy." With Harry leading the way, the patrician, holding the girl, vanished into the short corridor that led to Snape and Harry's quarters.
Once Harry saw that Hermione was curled up on his bed, he gave her back a gentle pat, and then ran back to his father's office. Lucius sat on the edge of the bed, his hand rubbing feather-light circles upon Hermione's back. He frowned as the anger at the Grangers rose up into his gullet. He wanted to hex them a dozen times over, and then do so again. He just could not understand how parents could do what they had done to their child?
Voldemort was clearly insane, but Lucius had to admit that one thing he had to agree with was that the wizarding world had to remain separate from that of the Muggle world. No matter how advanced the Muggles might be, they still feared and despised true magic; thus hurting innocent children with their insecurities.
Hermione, tired as she was, couldn't sleep. She couldn't cry, either. Maybe because she was out of tears. Uncle Lucius' gentle touch on her back was comforting and she hoped he wouldn't go away. At least, not for awhile, yet.
"Hermione, do you think you are able to answer the question I asked?" a little nod answered him. "I believe someday, should you wish to return to the Muggle world, you may return, just not as yourself. However, for now, as you grow, and learn more of your magic, would you still wish to go back to that world?"
"No," she replied. Her voice was soft, but her answer was firm. "But where will I live?" Hermione asked plaintively into the pillow. "At Hogwarts?"
Lucius turned the girl onto her back so she was looking up at him. He touched her cheek with the back of his fingers. Hermione noted that this was just the same, affectionate gesture that he used with his son. A smile broke across her face.
"Malfoy Manor has plenty of room for another child, Hermione," Lucius began, his face serious, but his silvery-grey gaze smiling. "I also have a suspicion that Cissy would love to have a daughter. What do you think, child?" he asked solemnly. "Would you consent to being a Malfoy?"
Hermione wanted to reply at once, but she thought, first, of Draco. "Do you think Draco would mind?"
"Dragon thinks the world of you, my dear, and I've no doubt he would be the most protective brother in the world," Lucius replied.
It was the right thing for the wizard to say for Hermione sat up and threw her arms around his neck. She whispered against him, happily, "Yes! I want to be yours, please!"
Lucius held the child, his little girl! Imagine that! A few more minutes and then settled her back down on the bed and tucked her beneath the covers. Before he was even finished smoothing the blankets, Hermione had slipped into a comfortable slumber. With no intention of leaving, Lucius Summoned the small child's chair at Harry's desk, enlarged it and made it a bit more comfortable, and then seated himself. He would stay put until Hermione woke up.
Snape knew that Lucius would be some time with Hermione so he took Harry and Draco to his potions lab where he set the boys to preparing scarab beetles for next weeks classes, and he went to work on a batch of Skin Soother for the Infirmary. As he brewed he thought of the changes he had witnessed in his old friend.
Lucius had been a protector of his since his Sorting into Slytherin. He had not been easily accepted in that House which was home to children that came from wealthy, Pureblood homes. He was poor, and he looked it. When the hand of friendship was offered Snape had paused in taking it but even at that young an age he knew he could not afford to turn up his nose at the wealthy, young seventh year boy.
Many in Slytherin spoke against the world outside theirs - the Muggle world - and sometimes their words against Muggles, Muggle-born, and Half-bloods were not polite if not downright threatening. Lucius was one who spoke for the separation of worlds but never did he speak of torture, slaughter or outright annihilation.
After Lucius and Narcissa married, when he was a third year at Hogwarts, Lucius continued to visit him, to teach him Rune Magic. Snape, the stealthy boy, watched as during those visits the patrician held very quiet meetings with others in Slytherin. Snape did not learn until he had left Hogwarts and had been recruited by Abraxas Malfoy as a Death Eater that Lucius was creating allies. What he learned then was that the children but mostly the children of Slytherin mattered to him. He was certain that these children, the future of the Wizarding world, would be the ones to oppose the growing Dark Lord; the wizard that had all ready entrapped them both with his Dark Mark.
Lucius, he also learned, was a very Slytherin wizard who understood the value of knowing one's allies and enemies, the worth of understanding the differences in the Wizard and Muggle worlds. Something that Abraxas never understood because he was too busy seeking magical power, and magical galleons. Even with the yoke of Abraxas seemingly controlling his son's every thought, Lucius worked behind his back.
Lucius desired a Wizarding world that would be safe for his child, grandchildren, and all his descendants.
Snape had neither wife nor child, a father he despised, and a mother who had died before her time. He was a spy for Dumbledore and for Voldemort; his prospects for a future were slim to none. He did not begin thinking of the children of the wizarding world until Lily Evans had extracted from her childhood friend a promise to keep her son safe. Even before Harry came into his life Snape began to see the children in his Potions class and in Slytherin House in the same manner Lucius saw all wizarding children.
What Snape had not witnessed before then was Lucius embracing the Muggle-born through one child, Hermione Granger. Sponsoring the young girl had been surprising but when he overheard Lucius and Narcissa discussing adopting the homeless girl, that had been something he could never have predicted. To be honest, Snape did not believe that Lucius' altruism could extend itself to a Muggle-born child. In that moment, Snape realised that his friend believed in the health and welfare of all magical children be they Pureblood, Muggle-born, or Half-blood.
It was… humbling.
17 Nov 1991, Sunday
Just in time for lunch, Hermione woke and was comforted at seeing Lucius sitting beside the bed. As she sat up, he used his wand to iron out a few wrinkles from her robes and then sent her into the bathroom to freshen herself.
Snape had provided lunch for the Silver Trio and himself and Lucius, but he wouldn't let anyone dig into the repast right away. The reason became clear when the Floo whooshed into green and Narcissa Malfoy stepped from the green flames.
"Mother!" Draco smiled and rose to greet his mother with an enthusiastic hug. When he pulled away, he was grinning smugly. "Guess what?"
Narcissa had a fair idea of what the surprise was, so she quickly glanced at her husband. A brush of Lucius' hand to Hermione's cheek as she sat beside him, confirmed what she suspected. She looked down at her son and asked, "I haven't the faintest idea what your surprise might be, Dragon. Would you tell me?"
Draco's smug grin turned into a bright smile as Harry snickered quietly as he sat beside his father. "Hermione's gonna be my sister!"
Narcissa smiled brightly. "Now that is wonderful news, Dragon." The beautiful witch went over to Hermione, then bent and kissed Hermione's forehead. "I could not ask for a more lovely daughter than you, dear."
After lunch Snape and Lucius sent the children off with Narcissa to explore some areas of the castle that the patrician witch knew of that would entertain the children.
"Can't you come, Dad?" Harry had asked. It seemed like such a family outing that he wanted his family to come along.
Snape gripped Harry's shoulder gently in regret as he shook his head. "We'll have to do something together another day, son. I and Lucius have things to discuss."
Harry had been disappointed, but he had nodded and left without argument.
Just as Snape escorted Lucius back to his quarters where he knew they would have more secure privacy, an owl arrived in the office. Snape took the Muggle looking envelope from the bird, and glanced at a rather official looking logo; it was from Scotland Yard. Taking the letter with him, the two wizards retreated to Snape's private rooms where the first thing he did was read the letter. Most of the letter was typed, except for a handwritten note at the end.
16 Nov 1991, Saturday
Professor Severus Snape,
This is to pass onto you the courtesy of information about one, Vernon Alan Dursley of Little Whinging, London, late of HM Prison Brixton.
At cell lockdown at 5pm on 14 November 1991, Thursday just after dinner, as the guard did a prisoner count, it was discovered that Vernon Alan Dursley had gone missing. The entire prison went on lockdown, but not for long as the body of Vernon Alan Dursley was found in the prison shower. His body had been beaten and defiled. A plank of wood had been tied by prison twine around his neck that said, 'For the kids, you bastard'.
Subsequent investigation revealed that Vernon Alan Dursley had bragged about several boys that he had hurt and how he was angry that he had never gotten to do the same to his nephew. He had vowed, several times, that once he had served his sentence, he would find his nephew, and kill him.
The men in Brixton are hardly a sterling lot, Professor Snape, but there exists a large group that consider children as the innocents of the world, and to be avenged, by them. This was their justice.
Sincerely,
Detective Aloysius M. Stanley
Scotland Yard
Handwritten note: As to the matter we discussed, I shall keep you and Mr. Malfoy updated. AMS.
After some silence between the two men, Lucius asked, "Will you tell Harry?"
Snape folded the letter and put it into a box that he sealed and placed upon his tallest bookshelf away from inquisitive, little boys. "I will tell him that his uncle has died, but not the circumstances. When he is older, and if he asks, I shall tell my son."
The Potions Master prepared them each a drink and then they settled in the twin wingback chairs in front of the fire. After several sips of the Elven Brandy, Snape inquired, "Is the detective able to accept any remuneration for his services, Lucius?"
Lucius smirked, "I pay him quite well, Severus. If you feel the need to acknowledge Stanley's good work, I understand he has quite a passion for good cigars, on occasion."
Snape nodded, before losing himself for a moment in the flames of the fireplace. His thoughts were now entirely upon his son, who still had nightmares, who still flinched from most people, who chose to stand behind those he trusted when encountering new people. Despite these negative things, Harry had found things to laugh at, he had his two best friends, and although he wasn't a great student, he did put in a good effort where his homework, and wand work was concerned.
Dursley was permanently gone from the boy's life. Snape had entertained the thought of killing the man, rather slowly, himself for what the bastard had done to his child, had caused Harry to witness. However, the prison population had exacted justice and Snape felt no remorse over what had been done to the vile creature.
Now he and Lucius could deal with things more sinister; the Dark Lord, the Philosopher's Stone, and Albus Dumbledore.
"I have discovered there is greater reason to never meet the Headmaster's gaze," remarked Snape as one long, tapered finger traced the rim of his brandy glass. Lucius glanced away from the fire to his friend, and listened. "That bloody twinkle in his eyes that I've always hated is much more than just a doddering fool's happy twinkle." He took a sip of the brandy. "Just as Dumblearse is able to influence people with Voice Magic, his twinkle calms people; including people that are holding a wand to his face."
Lucius' eyes widened. "Did you try to hex the old bastard, Severus?"
Snape then told Lucius of his meeting with the Headmaster in the Mirror Room. He also told the slightly older wizard about the mirror being broken, and that Dumbledore had had some fool idea to hide the Philosopher's Stone within it.
"Add to that, Lucius, this tidbit of knowledge," seethed Snape. "That old goat knew that Voldemort possessed Quirrell when he hired him."
Lucius' hand gripped so tightly upon his brandy glass, reflecting his sudden burst of anger, that the glass shattered. The remains of the brandy spattered his robes, as did blood from his hand, pierced by small slivers of glass.
"Merlin's toad, Lucius!" Snape jumped up, vanished the broken glass and brandy remains, and carefully took hold of the other wizard's hand. Using his wand, he vanished three slivers embedded in Lucius' palm. He cast a simple Diagnostic Spell, and then examined the wounds with his eyes. When he didn't see any other glints of glass, he healed the small wounds and then cleaned away the blood.
Lucius watched the healing as his gaze boiled with anger. "Our sons. My, my daughter." His other hand gripped into a tight fist and he pounded his fist once on the arm of the chair. "I will kill that old bastard myself for putting my children in harm's way, Severus."
"And I would join you in an instant, Lucius," agreed Severus as he returned to his chair. "The problem is that we do not have any evidence against Dumbledore that the Ministry would accept, and it is the Ministry with a vote from the Wizengamot that would have to remove the old man. The Board of Governors..."
Lucius nodded and finished, "...are impotent as far as ousting a Headmaster is concerned."
"Dumblearse has a fine position of passive power at Hogwarts and I have never seen how insidious it is," groused Snape.
"He will bring harm to Harry, Severus," Lucius warned. The dark haired man glowered at his friend. "I realise you are very aware of this, but you have implied that he is following the very same prophecy that Voldemort was obsessed with. Whether or not we consider it nonsense, the power of a self-fulfilling prophecy is deadly. The destruction it has already caused..."
"I know!" snapped the Potions Master angrily. "I also know that Dumbledore is far too clever to be caught by trouble the Ministry would frown upon. No one there cares to believe that Voldemort did not truly die that night, Lucius. As for the Philosopher's Stone, only I, you, Harry, the Headmaster, and more than likely Voldemort himself, knows of it."
"Where are the Flamels?" asked Lucius.
Snape shook his head. "According to Dumbledore, once they released the Stone, they died not long after. Since the wizarding world never knew of their longevity, I doubt anyone would understand the danger the Stone is."
"Dumbledore Legilimensed your son," Lucius persisted. He needed something concrete to bring the Headmaster to the Board of Governors for at least a recommendation of removal from Hogwarts.
Once again the Potions Master shook his head, "Only a skilled Legilimens can reveal the transgressions of another Legilimens and the way the law is concerning Dark Magic, of which Legilimens is considered, I would be headed to Azkaban along with Dumbledore."
"So, all we have are accusations and not a shred of evidence," Lucius grit his teeth with renewed anger. "And you say that bloody Stone is what? Singing to Voldemort?" Snape merely nodded. Lucius' lips thinned. "I do not like this, Severus."
"Nor do I," sighed Snape. "For now, continue your research on how we might destroy Vold..."
Lucius interrupted. "There might be something, Severus." Snape was duly attentive. "According to one of the Journals of Grindlewald, there was an object called the Hourglass of Anubis that may be of use to us in ultimately ridding our world of Voldemort, if we can find it."
"And what might that do?" asked Snape. He was not at all surprised that Lucius was in possession of Gellert Grindlewald's journals. Lucius' collection of obscura was extensive and included a large library of rare and thought to be destroyed tomes. It was a collection that if some in the Ministry knew of what it contained, would destroy it, and others would, such as the UnSpeakables, would confiscate it for themselves.
"The god supposedly used it to judge the souls that came before him after crossing the Veil. If the hourglass turned one way, then the soul was judged worthy to proceed to the afterlife. If the hourglass turned the other way, the soul was judged damned, drawn into the hourglass, where it was destroyed by the Dead Sands," Lucius described, rather simply.
"It might destroy Quirrell," observed Snape.
Lucius shook his head slowly, "Only if Quirrell's soul were deemed unworthy. Also, as Quirrell is not technically dead, his soul may not be at all touched."
"The Hourglass of Anubis sounds promising, but did Grindlewald ever find it?" asked Snape.
"He didn't, which, I suppose, in the long run is a good thing." Lucius shrugged. "If we could find it..."
"Have you come across anything that tells you where it might be?" Snape asked, somewhat testily.
Lucius smirked at the young wizard. "As of yet, no. However, Grindlewald's journal mentions a scroll that was written by Imhotep during the construction of the pyramid at Saqqara. Grindlewald wrote that the scroll details a number of artefacts that were discovered buried deeply in the sand and sealed within a gold chest that was decorated with images of Anubis judging the souls of the dead. I have determined that the scroll does exist and I expect it to be delivered to me within a month."
Snape silently hoped that Lucius' search would end well, but it was obvious that it would take time. This worried the Potions Master. "Should Quirrell recover from his coma, we will have to find another way to deal with him, Lucius. I do not want that man back in the position of teaching again."
For a silent moment Lucius drummed the fingers of one hand upon the arm of his chair. His eyes then narrowed with calculating thought. "It is not well that Madame Pomfrey is the fort between Dumbledore and Quirrell, my friend. Not that I ever had any trust in that old man, but if we are to be the architects that interfere with his shady plans, we must know that Quirrell is safe from his machinations, and within our hands."
Snape had listened carefully to his friend's deliberation and had nodded during it in agreement. He then smiled thinly. "I have a thought, but we will require Poppy's assistance as it will need the professor's disappearance."
Lucius' smile was very pleased knowing that Snape's thought had triggered one of his own, many secrets. "Speak to her, then, Severus. What may I do to help?"
Snape rose from his chair. "Give me a moment with the good matron." Snape then went over to his fireplace, threw in a handful of Floo powder, and beckoned Poppy to come and join them. The matron was free, at the moment, so she came through, dusted non-existant soot from her apron (the elves kept the internal Floos very clean) and settled herself, with a straight spine, upon the sofa.
Poppy listened closely to her part needed in the plan to effect Quirrell's vanishment, gave her enthusiastic acceptance, and returned to the Infirmary, where she would wait until the plan was put into effect.
20 Nov 1991, Wednesday
Snape strode upwards from the dungeons during his free period, and to the tower that was the Deputy Head's office. Upon reaching the suit of armor that guarded Lupin's door, the Potions Master glared at it. The armor let out a short growl and Snape merely deepened his glare at the impertinently animated suit of metal. The armor stepped aside and Lupin's door opened, allowing him to enter.
"Severus, what good is it if I set a password and you never use it?" asked Lupin, as he smiled tiredly from a comfortable chair by his fireplace.
"Considering that suit of armor was once the King of all England I would think, Lupin, he would be more aggressive than he is to bow to a simple glare," scoffed Snape.
"You threatened to melt Henry the last time he wouldn't move, Severus," Lupin chuckled half-heartedly and then leaned his head on the palm of his hand. His eyes closed as he grimaced.
"The joint pain, Lupin?" asked Snape knowledgeably as he took the chair opposite.
Lupin did not open his eyes. "It's been years since I've had to deal with it, Severus. I wish..."
Snape smirked, "Careful what you wish for, wolf." Lupin's eyes opened and he saw that the Potions Master was holding up a familiar looking grey bottle that had a rather ornate label in French on it.
"D'Lisle's Wolfsbane, Severus?" Lupin gasped as he sat up straighter.
Snape handed the potion over. "Only for this full moon, Lupin. I ordered two doses along with the ingredients I needed from D'Lisle."
Lupin drank down the heavy potion until the bottle was empty. "I have to compensate you for this, Severus." He smiled as the potion began to soothe away the aches in his joints, and the headache that had begun; all symptoms that hailed the onset of Lupin's change at the full moon on the twenty-first.
"If you wish to pay someone back, speak to the Headmaster, Lupin," replied Snape. "In agreeing to your position, I made it a requirement that Dumbledore would pay for the ingredients for your potion. And not the cheap ingredients." He watched critically as the wizard leaned his head back finally feeling the last of his symptoms fading away. After several minutes of quiet, Snape asked, "Lupin, tomorrow... where will you go?"
Lupin took a moment to reply. When he did he opened his eyes and looked into the flames roaring in the fireplace. "Albus told me that he renewed the wards on the Shrieking Shack. I suppose I will go there."
Snape grimaced at the memory of the tunnel of roots created by the Whomping Willow that led up to the door leading into the Shrieking Shack. It made him shudder. That old fear made him wonder at his thinking as he offered, "The Shrieking Shack is a rude and cold place to be, even for a wolf in winter. You may sleep in my sitting room before the fire."
Lupin, who had been about to close his eyes again, opened them in astonishment. He stared incredulously at the man before him. He did not see a jest in Snape's body language, nor was he able to scent deceit over the offer. Even so, Lupin was still taken aback by what the dour Potions Master had just offered.
"That's very kind of you, Severus, but the Shrieking Shack..." He stopped speaking as Snape abruptly rose from his chair and strode to the Deputy's office door.
"I am curious to witness your transformation from wizard to wolf, Lupin," Snape spoke briskly as he opened the door. "In doing so, I may garner some ideas for improvements to the Wolfsbane beyond what D'Lisle has done. My sitting room," Snape declared decisively. "After dinner." Before Lupin could even reply, the Potions Master was gone.
Lupin then smiled at his empty office. "Well, then. Thank you, Professor Snape."
Snape shook his head over what he'd just done. He had not only purchased Wolfsbane for Lupin (although it wasn't on his knut) but he had. Then he invited the wizard to his sitting room, and then ordered it. He truly did have a curiosity about Lupin's full transformation from man to wolf that the Wolfsbane effected, but he had seen the beast Lupin became without that miracle elixir. For years that sight had plagued his nightmares; it still did.
A deep, viscerally afraid part of himself wanted to return to the Deputy Head's office and tell the wizard to take himself to the Shrieking Shack and to not come within a mile of his quarters. The more calm, Slytherin side reminded himself that Lupin, an ally, mind you, had transformed, through Wolfsbane, the entire time he worked for Lord Mortimer's family. Quite remarkable of the parents to allow their children around the man, but Lupin, and the Lord and Lady Mortimer had been extremely diligent in making certain Lupin took his Wolfsbane at the appointed time before each full moon. Snape knew this because he had written to Lady Mortimer the moment he had a chance, and she had explained all of this in her letter.
Snape chuckled as he recalled the woman's rather admonishing tone as her words reminded him that'Remus Lupin never asked for this curse and it is up to those of us that respect this, and Remus, that we help him however is needed'.
As the Potions Master took a hidden corridor down past the moving staircases, he avoided any unwelcome gossip from students that might be lurking and curious about his own perambulations right before curfew.
He had been more receptive to, of all things, a friendship with the man he had been afraid of nearly all of his life. Snape supposed it had greatly helped to know that Lupin had had a falling out with Sirius Black, which then meant in his leaving the main prankster there would be no more contact with James Potter or the sycophantic Peter Pettigrew. Such a move had terminated the acquisition of new friends, but his Head of House, according to what Lupin had imparted, had invited the quiet and reserved student to tea.
Snape had no doubt that Minerva had been fishing for just what the event was that broke up the Marauders, but Lupin would never tell anyone for fear of revealing his hidden nature. Despite what Minerva's motives originally had been she had discovered that the young man had a talent for Transfiguration and so she became his mentor until his last day at Hogwarts. Lupin was then thrust out of the safety of Hogwarts where he had to find employment; not all that difficult since he remained an unregistered 'Dark Creature'. The problem was that Lupin was not comfortable in the wizarding world, and when the opportunity with the Mortimers (at Minerva's dabbling) had come, the position offered the young man the escape he desired.
It still astounded Snape that the Mortimers' had so thoroughly embraced what the wizarding world would have shunned, and boxed in with so many restrictions and regulations. They had actually allowed their children contact with the quiescent wolf, who became very much like a sibling to the four youngest Mortimers'.
A friendship? Snape's thoughts nearly fell over themselves in astonishment. This is the werewolf you speak of, his thoughts pressed as the smirk, that even now rested on his lips as he strode through the halls of Hogwarts, was his only answer.
With Dumbledore's secrets and Quirrell, and the Philosopher's Stone roaming around Hogwarts, Snape reasoned that his own shadowed plans would require Lupin. If the wizard would wish to return to the Muggle world later, Snape would hardly stand in the man's way, but for now, he had become a vital component.
But a friend of Lupin's? Utterly daft, shouted those other thoughts. Snape had to, albeit reluctantly, agree. He smirked, again, as those thoughts wandered off to the depths of his past, assuaged, by his own clever deceit.
"Severus! There you are!"
Snape was so startled by the voice that had interrupted his thoughts, that he very nearly collided with the owner, Madame Pomfrey. Before he could ask what the matter was, she had grasped him by the hand like a small child and dragged him down and into the Infirmary.
The 'problem' was evident the moment he entered and Poppy let go of his hand. Sitting up against plumped up pillows and appearing rather dazed, was Quirrell. His unfocused gaze settled on the medi-witch as his hand scratched at his stubbled skull.
"I sh-sh-should have m-m-my turban?" he asked, sounding incredibly lost.
Poppy patted his hand as she drew it back down into his lap. "I'll have an elf bring some clothing to you, Professor Quirrell," she spoke patiently.
The once comatose wizard was about to lean back against his pillows when his gaze spied Snape standing at the Infirmary doors. Only for a second was there a flash of deep maroon in the weak gaze, and then it was gone. It was enough to propel Snape several steps backwards so that his back banged up against the Infirmary doors. Snape received a second, unwelcome shock, as two aged hands clamped down upon his shoulders and then gently moved him aside. A slight turn had the Potions Master glancing at the Headmaster coming through the Infirmary doors. As the man was smiling, Snape avoided a direct look into the orbs he knew were twinkling.
Dumbledore headed over to Quirrell, who sat up at the Headmaster's approach, and did not even flinch as the old man sat down on the edge of the bed and gathered the younger wizard's hands into his.
"It is so good to see you back with us, Quirinus," gushed the Headmaster. "How are you feeling, dear boy?" Snape sneered at the false endearment.
"F-f-fine, Headm-m-master. I just wish t-t-to return to m-m-my quarters," stammered the young man.
Dumbledore smiled pleasantly. "All in good time, Quirinus." Dumbledore glanced over where Poppy was at her potions cabinet. "Madame Pomfrey?"
"Yes, Headmaster," she replied as she held two potion bottles and returned to Quirrell's side.
"How is our young man?" asked Dumbledore solicitously.
"Perfect, Headmaster," she replied flatly. "I can detect nothing untoward except for a small nutritional deficit in his minerals and vitamins which are normal for an extended coma." She handed over a nutritional potion that was heavy in those lack of vitamins and minerals, which the patient dutifully drank down. The other potion was an electrolyte potion that was also necessary for patients who had come out of a coma.
Dumbledore nodded and returned his attention to the DADA professor. "Quirinus, my boy, I wonder if you might recall what it was that brought you to this state?"
"I-I-I..." the wizard's voice faltered and his gaze clouded with an evident loss of significant memory. "I was gr-gr-grading tests, w-w-wasn't I?" Wrenching his hands from the Headmaster, he dropped his head, rather a bit too dramatically, thought Snape, into his hands and wept silently.
Snape stifled a smirk as he caught the medi-witch's eye-roll. She thought Quirrell was being melodramatic as well. Snape then nodded, adding a slight twitch to the left with his head; a pre-arranged signal between himself and Poppy that the plan to cause Quirrell's disappearance had to proceed, at once, with this new development.
"Give me a moment, Headmaster, Professor Quirrell," said Madame Pomfrey politely. "I need to speak a moment to Severus about Harry."
Dumbledore lifted his head to look towards the Potions teacher, seemingly in concern. Quirrell's gaze was more intense as he, too, wanted to hear about the young boy.
"Merely a cold that has been unduly stubborn, Headmaster," Snape added swiftly, with no hesitation in the lie. "I wish to speak to Poppy about a possible improvement in the Pepper-Up Potion."
The Headmaster nodded a little imperiously with permission for the younger wizard to do so, and returned his attention to Quirrell while Poppy and Snape moved to Poppy's office to speak.
"Severus, this complicates matters," whispered Poppy as quietly as possible since they could not risk casting a Silencing Spell and thus alerting the two wizards to any subterfuge going on between them.
"On the contrary, Poppy. This lends more credence to the memory Lucius manufactured for you. It moves up our plans, but so much the better this is done before the holidays. Normally, how soon would you be releasing him?"
"I do require twenty-four hours observance, so that will not appear out of the norm if I detain him," she replied softly.
Snape removed a potion from his pocket and slipped it to the medi-witch. "Stupefy him as soon as the Headmaster leaves, Poppy, and then spell the entire contents of this bottle into him."
She glanced at the pale lavender potion that seemed almost alive in the bottle. "This is Mind Sleep Potion?" Poppy asked very quietly.
Snape gave a sharp nod, then touched the older woman's arm gently. Leaning close, he whispered, "Be cautious, Poppy." He then spun, and left the office. The next step in their plans would not be pleasant.
An hour later, in the midst of Potions, Snape looked up from his desk just as a memo, in the shape of a flying crane, flew into the dungeon classroom. He caught the memo, unfolded it, and read it. He crumpled the paper and it turned to ash in his hand. A few students, curious, glanced up from the Potions they were brewing.
"Mr. Goyle! Be careful with that cricket leg!" Snape admonished sharply.
The large, round Slytherin boy glared at his hand which delicately held a lone cricket leg. He then studied his Potions textbook. Millicent Bulstrode, who was Gregory's partner leaned toward the boy. "What's wrong, Greg?" she whispered as softly as she could.
Gregory Goyle's lips thinned and Millicent saw the boy's lower lip begin to tremble. Most young children would cry after such a tell but Goyle was known to get angry. Millicent touched the boy's arm which caused him to draw in a breath to calm himself.
"It says one cricket leg in the recipe but I can't remember what that symbol means."
Goyle's frustration was very evident but Millicent, the ever level-headed Slytherin smiled. "That's when you ask, Greg."
Gregory managed a small smile. "What's it mean, Milli?"
"Grind the cricket leg, Greg." Millicent encouraged. Her partner beamed.
Once the class was over, Snape ran up to the Infirmary. Poppy was seated beside the bed where Quirrell slept. "How long will that potion last, Severus?" asked Poppy.
"It will keep its effectiveness until I administer the neutralising agent." He ran a Diagnostic Spell. "Did you have any trouble, Poppy?"
Madame Pomfrey shook her head. "I am a medi-witch, Severus. As far as he knew my duty was to make certain he was healthy." She scowled down at Quirrell.
Once the Potions Master was certain Quirrell would not awaken, he faced Poppy. In her hand was her wand. Her hands were trembling slightly. Snape glanced at the woman with concern.
"Poppy," he began gently, "if you're at all uncertain about this, I will find another way."
Poppy scoffed, her bravado somewhat forced. "There isn't any other way that would convince the Headmaster, Severus. You and I both know that." She watched as Snape turned slightly and then Summoned Quirrell's wand to his hand. "Just... just please be quick about it," the medi-witch's voice whispered as her bravado faded abruptly and she stood as she was ready to defend herself.
With a speed she could not have expected, Snape whipped Quirrell's wand towards Poppy. With nearly deadly calm, he shouted, "CRUCIO!"
Poppy's body buckled inwardly as all her nerve endings seem to burst into simultaneous flickers of pain. The witch fell to the floor. She hadn't wanted to scream, but the Cruciatus Curse was relentless and she could not stop the high-pitched scream that broke from the depths of her pain, and fright.
Just as quickly as he had cast the curse, Snape ended it, dropped Quirrell's wand to the floor and knelt down to Poppy's side. She was still blindly writhing on the floor as he picked up her wand, turned slightly, and cast a Blasting Curse that tore into the wall over Quirrell's bed, then shattered the tall window.
Snape then put Poppy's wand back into her hand, paused briefly, and touched his fingers to the woman's cheek. Her eyes were shut tight. Even though the Curse had only been less than a second held, and now it was ended, pain still coursed through her body.
"Forgive me, Poppy," Snape whispered, and then he brushed his lips to her forehead.
Rising to his feet and using his own wand he turned to Quirrell, Disillusioned him and Levitated the invisible wizard out of the Infirmary.
The hue and cry was raised by Argus Filch. He had cut his hand doing some clean up in the Great Hall after lunch (broken dishes that didn't make it back to the kitchen) and so he had gone to the Infirmary for treatment. It was there that he found Madame Pomfrey curled up on her side, her body trembling.
"Qui-Quirrell," she had sputtered before closing her eyes tightly once more.
Filch, forgetting about his injury, ran to the door, and stopped a group of students. "Get a teacher or the Headmaster!" he ordered with a scowl. "There's been mischief a'bad here!"
The students ran off and Filch returned to Poppy's side to see if he could help her.
By the time Filch had gotten Poppy onto a bed, the Headmaster and McGonagall were arriving.
"What has happened, Argus?" demanded Dumbledore as he went to the medi-witch's side.
"Pomfrey says it were that Quirrell fellow a'done it, Headmaster," replied Filch.
Minerva went to her friend's side and quickly ran a Diagnostic Spell. "Oh dear Merlin!" she gasped. "Albus!"
The Headmaster left Filch and went over to Minerva. He looked down at Poppy's shivering form. "Cruciatus," he murmured.
"Yes," affirmed Minerva. "What's happened Albus?" she asked as the Headmaster looked over towards Quirrell's bed. He had seen the wand of Quirrell's upon the floor.
Minerva could just hear him cast Priori Incatatem that would tell him what spell was last cast by this wand. As a pale light came from Quirrell's wand, the Headmaster shook his head. He then pocketed the wand and moved back to Minerva and seated himself on the edge of Poppy's bed.
"My dear, can you give me the memory of what occurred?" Dumbledore asked.
Poppy simply turned her head and opened her eyes. The Headmaster's gaze caught hers and she gasped at the intrusion.
Dumbledore saw that Poppy was tending to her patient. Quirrell had asked for his wand and she showed him that it was in the bedside table. She had then departed his side to walk over to her potions cabinet. When she turned back, Quirrell was standing beside his bed, and his wand was pointed at her. Poppy stepped forward a step, and then the cold light of the Cruciatus Curse enveloped her. It was a moment, and she was in a great deal of pain, but even so she tried to stop Quirrell with a Blasting Curse. The spell flew wildly and struck the wall behind the DADA professor. He fell sideways over his bed, dropping his wand. As the window shattered, he rolled off the bed, and ran. Poppy's memory faded as her pain grew.
Dumbledore left the medi-witch's mind, unconcerned that he also left behind the ghost of a migraine, as he had done twice with Harry and his inept Legilimens. He looked up at Minerva. "Severus has a potion that can help her. Where is he?"
"In class," murmured Minerva. "dealing with detentions."
Dumbledore patted the older witch's hand. "Would you mind summoning him with your Patronus, Minerva?"
Minerva cast her Lynx Patronus, and a half an hour later, Snape had arrived. Dumbledore was now sitting in a paisley chair next to Minerva. The Potions Master ignored them both as he sat down beside Poppy, helped her to sit up, and gave her the cool, blue-green potion he had created to treat his own body when it was subjected to the Cruciatus Curse. As it worked quickly through her system, Poppy let out a sigh.
Minerva leaned forward. "Poppy also has a migraine, Severus." She glanced wordlessly at Dumbledore. Snape grimaced in understanding and Summoned the migraine relief potion that he used. He then administered that. Poppy turned slightly, her face now a reflection of relief instead of pain.
Dumbledore stood with a smile. "Well, all is well here. I need to see if my request was answered. I've a great deal to get done before tomorrow morning." He started to leave.
"Headmaster?" queried Snape. "What happened?"
The Headmaster turned, and tried to catch his Potions professor's gaze. He found it frustrating that he could not, and probably would not any longer, be able to capture it. However, he did think it intriguing that the younger wizard was able to glare at him, without looking him directly in the eye.
"Minerva can enlighten you, Severus. I have to see to a replacement." Dumbledore gave everyone a pleasant nod, and then left.
Minerva had the events, from Dumbledore's Legilimens, related in a few minutes. They were then quiet, both sitting side-by-side as they watched over the medi-witch. After an hour, Minerva stood and touched Snape's shoulder.
"Will you stay the night and monitor the Infirmary, Severus?" He nodded. "I'll look in upon your Snakes for you."
Minerva started out of the Infirmary, but he stopped her. "If Harry asks, let him know he can visit."
"I shall."
When Minerva left the Infirmary was eerily quiet. Snape leaned over and gently brushed a few strands of hair from the medi-witch's cheek. For a moment he gently held the silken strands. They were honey-blonde. Normally the Healer's hair was streaked with grey. Touching a few more stray strands he removed his wand, murmured a spell, and watched as the grey returned to the witch's hair. She stirred then, opening her eyes slowly.
"You ought to go back to sleep, Poppy," he whispered.
"Not yet, Severus." Poppy shifted her hand until it was out from under the covers. She gripped his hand that had brushed her cheek. "Is Quirrell hidden?"
Snape nodded. "No one will find him. I shall take you tomorrow to tend him." He squeezed the hand holding his. "How are you feeling, Poppy?" His soft tone was tinged heavily with contrition.
"Severus, please," she smiled sadly. "Please don't do this to yourself. It was the only way..." Poppy let go of his hand and stretched her hand up to touch his cheek.
Snape lowered his head, his long, straight hair falling to obscure his face. "I know, Poppy," his voice was brittle. "I... I despise..."
Poppy, although still feeling exhausted, sharpened her voice, "Severus Snape, stop that. This instant. I agreed to this so that I may help you to keep Harry, and all the students in this school safe. Your regret only devalues what I have done, and I find it... insulting."
Snape's head snapped up as Poppy spoke, and her hand dropped to her blanket. "Poppy! No, I..." Snape cut off any self-recrimination and wiped the apology from his face. He took a deep breath. "You are right, Poppy." Snape took another, much steadier deep breath. "Do rest well for the rest of the evening. I will monitor the Infirmary for you."
Poppy yawned, then smiled approvingly at Snape. "Good night, Severus."
21 Nov 1991, Thursday
Breakfast on Thursday was a morning of announcements for the students. As the Great Hall filled with hungry, some still half-asleep students, Hermione nudged Harry, causing his yawn to be interrupted as she nodded towards the staff table. "It's Tonks!" she smiled shyly at the widely smiling young Auror, whose hair was a neon blue. Tonks waved merrily at Hermione until Snape caught her hand and slapped it down to her side.
Harry smiled as the cheeky woman gave Snape a moue that was a mock of a kiss. He glared as darkly as possible in discouragement at her, then gave a sharp wave towards his gawking Silver Trio to seat themselves.
"Wonder what cousin Tonks is doing here," remarked Draco to his friends as they seated themselves at the table.
"I don't see Professor Lupin," observed Harry.
"He was sick yesterday, Harry," reminded Hermione. "The Headmaster taught DADA."
Harry grimaced. "Yeah, I remember." Harry had unfortunately become Professor Dumbledore's assistant in Defense Against the Dark Arts yesterday and had not done well in performing his basic shield. He'd forgone a visit to the Infirmary and had instead gone to his father for healing from bird pecks, boils, and a conjunctivitis spell that only hit one eye.
The Headmaster stopped all conversation by casting a Chiming Charm that caused everyones attention to focus upon the staff table. He stood and smiled at all the students.
"A moment before everyone finishes breakfast," he began. "Professor Quirrell who recovered from a malady some weeks ago has chosen to return to his research in Albania. As for Professor Lupin, news of an illness is quite premature as our esteemed Deputy Headmaster is dealing with the endless paperwork that has a tendency to increase as the holidays approach. To that end, I thought we might be at a loss for someone to teach our Defense Against the Dark Arts class, but we are fortunate to welcome Junior Auror Nymphadora Tonks for the rest of the year as your new instructor. Please make welcome, Professor Tonks."
Tonks rose to the sound of appreciative applause which caused her to change her hair from neon blue to delighted pink. As she started to wave at all the students, Snape yanked on the back of her robes sending her awkwardly back down into her chair. Snape caught the young woman before she could spill indecorously off the chair and either onto the floor, or Merlin forbid, onto the Potions Master's lap.
"You're a teacher!" hissed Snape towards the clumsy witch. "Behave like one!"
"Aww, Snapey, I didn't think you cared!" The cheeky smile faded as the most disapproving, stony glare came from Snape and she gulped silently, feeling like she was back in the older man's class. Tonks slouched down in her chair trying, vainly, to become invisible.
Snape, pleased that the young woman wasn't completely immune to his scowls, smirked smugly, and returned his attention to his morning coffee.
-Professor Tonks-
However clumsy or exuberant Tonks could be outside of class, she took to her professorial duties very seriously. Tonks had taken over Quirrell's vague lecture notes, Lupin's restructured practicals, and tossed out the Headmaster's decidedly mean dueling practices that picked upon students. From the mish-mosh she had, overnight, constructed a good curriculum that would carry her students through term.
For the first years she began the class with a succinct lecture and then a demo followed by a practical lesson that perfected wand movement and then technique. First year defense wasn't easy, but Tonks was a very hands on type of teacher who spent much of the class in the midst of her students instead of standing at a podium.
Draco, who was delighted to have his cousin teaching, had tried to tease her in class and had earned a ten point loss for Slytherin for doing so. He was mad, for a little while, until the practicals began and he received the same attention everyone else did. The quick hug at the end of class from his cousin didn't hurt either.
"Your wand movements have to be smooth," said Tonks as she watched her students waving their wands in what appeared to be an uncoordinated ballet.
"So show us, Professor," huffed Pansy Parkinson with irritation.
Tonks replied, "You're expecting prescribed wand movements like in Charms. This isn't Charms. Defence requires not just the arm in defending yourself, it requires the whole body." She began to crouch, jump, dodge all while moving her arm with her wand. "Defence is a dance to prevent your opponent's spells from hitting you. The movement of your wand is an extension of your body just like breathing is." She stopped, smiled, and waved her students back to their seats while she moved back to her podium where she leaned casually against it.
"You're all going to learn Defence Against the Dark Arts the way I did when I joined the Aurors," she continued. "Defence isn't just a bunch of Shields and Blasting spells. It is a training of your body to accept, fully, that it is a fine instrument of magic. This means that starting tomorrow we will begin all classes on the Quidditch Pitch." Tonks grinned as her announcement caused a rise of speculation amongst the class.
"Are we going to play Quidditch, Professor Tonks?" smirked Gregory Goyle.
"We're going to get our bodies in shape, Gregory," laughed Tonks. "Running, jumping… movement. I'm going to teach you to embrace your magic to its zenith!"
-The Full Moon-
That evening of the full moon, just an hour before it appeared in the clear, wintry sky, Lupin arrived at Snape's office. Although he had taken the Wolfsbane as prescribed, a day earlier and his joints were feeling the better for it, Lupin did appear very weary and Snape had to wonder how the wizard had managed the walk from his quarters near Gryffindor to the dungeons.
Taking the man by the elbow, Snape quickly escorted the weary wolf into his quarters where he quickly cast a Muffliato Spell to quieten any undue noise, and an additional ward to seal his quarters against intruding visitors, unless it was Harry.
Within the hour Snape, across the sitting room, by his door, watched as Lupin changed from man to wolf. The Wolfsbane prevented the change from man into the fearsome werewolf that was half man, half beast that was tortured by incredible pain and mindless rage. Still, despite this, Snape admitted he was ready to dive out of his door the second it might appear that the D'Lisle Wolfsbane was a bad batch.
The Wolfsbane did work well, and within fifteen minutes a tired and quiescent timber wolf of beautiful sandy brown and grey blinked amber eyes in thankful acknowledgment to the Potions Master. Lupin the wolf settled himself upon the hearth by the fire and was soon asleep.
Snape gathered the cast off clothes of the Deputy and noticed the wear and tear they had taken. It was no wonder that Lupin's clothing, of which he couldn't afford to replace as often as he needed, generally looked tatty. He summoned a house elf, gave the clothing to the small creature who eyed the timber wolf warily, and ordered it to do any necessary repairs and cleaning and to have the clothing ready for the morning.
22 Nov 1991, Friday
By Friday, Tonks' teaching had put all thought of Professor Quirrell from the minds of the students. She had managed to bring an enthusiasm to the class that all the staff were remarking that they had not seen in years. Tonks herself was a bubbly, youthful addition to the meals, especially in the morning, although Snape didn't agree. It helped, very little, that the woman would insist upon sitting beside him where he had to endure the Junior Auror's clumsiness first hand. That morning he had just missed being stabbed in the face by Tonks' fork as she gestured wildly about with her hands as she described some ridiculous chase after a third rate charlatan of a wizard as one of her assignments. With a quick flick of his wand a cork was lodged sturdily over the tines of the fork, rendering it harmless. Tonks didn't notice until she tried to spear some of her scrambled eggs with the corked fork.
Filius Flitwick guffawed freely over the look on Tonks' face while she tried to wrestle the cork off the end of her fork. When it finally came off, it came off quickly. The fork flew towards Dumbledore until it trapped a good portion of his dangling beard upon the surface of the table. Snape would have smirked at this, but Tonks' hand holding the cork had gone in the opposite direction of the fork until the back of her hand smacked into Snape's coffee cup.
The very hot liquid spilled down his chest and drenched his trousers, painfully burning the upper thigh of his right leg. He jumped up, shouting, "Merlin's Teeth you're a heedless, exceedingly maladroit, simpleton, Nymphadora!" He began to Scourgify the mess, throwing at least a dozen assorted dark and fiery glares at the young woman, when she smiled, sweetly, up at him.
"I'll bet you read your Thesaurus for that one, sweetie!" she quipped.
Minerva nearly choked on her bacon and Flitwick was once more reduced to inane laughter.
With a scowl that could extinguish all of the torches in the castle in a wink, Snape stepped behind his chair and towards the narrow door that led to the staffroom. He paused, turned slightly, and crooked a finger sharply at Tonks. Tonks let out a startled yelp as she felt herself drawn up and out of her chair. Then, like a puppet on strings, she was dragged swiftly past her chair and over to the staffroom door. With one last yelp, she disappeared through the door after the irate Potions Master.
Behind the vanishing woman, Minerva shook her head and clucked her tongue. "Poor dear," she sighed, hiding a smirk behind her teacup. "She really should not bait Severus."
Madame Hooch snorted while Dumbledore wrestled with the stubborn fork to release his beard.
Once the door was closed and Snape had cast a Silencing Spell, he released Tonks from the Puppet Strings Charm he had cast silently and wandlessly. The young witch dropped just as a puppet whose strings had been cut, into a nearby chair.
"Have you no sense of humour?" she bit out harshly.
Snape strode angrily towards the new DADA professor. "Have you no sense of decorum?" he hissed sharply.
Tonks pressed back against her chair. "Of course I do!" she protested as Snape leaned in ever closer.
"Indeed?" he scoffed. "You were flapping about like a flibbertigibbet, completely unaware of your surroundings, Nymphadora." She glared at the repeated use of the name she didn't care for. Snape snarled, "Just like a feather-headed school-girl." He snapped himself erect and spun sharply away as her mouth dropped open.
"I'm not a school-girl!" she spat angrily. Tonks' hair became a fiery red that began to toss itself about as though in a stormy wind. Snape's scowl darkened to thunderous levels and Tonks drooped, as did her hair which had gone a mousey, limp brown (the normal colour of her hair).
"Sit. Up," snapped Snape drawing swiftly away from the young witch. He did not turn to see if Tonks obeyed. He did hear the shifting swish of adjusting robes. "Some may find your behaviour cheeky, perhaps even," he grimaced, "endearing." He spun back to Tonks sharply, and was not put off by her own scowl at being taken to task by her old teacher. She was sitting up, but her arms were crossed tightly, and belligerently over her chest. "I swear to Merlin, Miss Tonks," he ground out threateningly, "that if you do not present the appearance of the professor you were in your classes yesterday, I will take points from Hufflepuff as I did for your prank on your last day here."
Tonks blanched, the colour of her anger draining rapidly from her cheeks. As memorable as that prank had been (Tonks had cajoled a house elf into stealing a pair of the Potions Master's trousers to display in the Great Hall) the resulting points lost (1,500) had been a record for any student in the last three centuries, and had carried over into the new term. This made it nearly insurmountable for the students left and new in Hufflepuff to recover from.
"I'm just being me, sir," Tonks spoke quietly, and with a reserve she rarely had outside of her Auror job, or her new class.
"You were not brought here to relive your halcyon days of Hogwarts youth, Miss Tonks." Snape's tone was still biting, and she had to force herself not to flinch at the razor sharp enunciation. "You are here to teach the future of our Wizarding world not just how to defend themselves but how to behave as an adult; something you are quite failing at. If your presence puts any child in harms way, you will not have points loss, a lecture, or disapproving expressions to worry about."
The possibility that her effusive manner might inadvertently hurt a student, fired up Tonks and she jumped up sharply, nose to chest (until Snape bent down and they were nose to nose), and declared, "I'm good at what I do, Snape! More than good! Bet you didn't know that Shacklebolt and Moody both recommended me so I'll do my job, and more if needed." Her nose then did bump Snape's and she smirked as he reared back slightly, "And if I want to wave around 'like a flibbertigibbet', or flirt with your scrawny arse, I'll do so." With her wand suddenly in her hand (the young witch's speed was astounding to behold), Tonks poked the tall wizard in the chest with the tip. "If you ever pull a Puppet String Hex on me again, Snape, I'll break your nose in such a way that only Muggle means will heal it! Got me?"
Tonks turned on her heel, and strode out of the staffroom with a wide, smug, smirk upon her lips. She let out a yelp as the floor beneath her feet turned to ice. She slipped and fell indecorously upon her backside. Snape walked with a smooth, sliding grace upon the icy floor that irritated Tonks. She sat up, and glared at the towering Potions Master.
"Do not. Threaten. Me. Nymphadora," Snape growled darkly. "If you come near me with either your pale flirtations or buffoonery I have you filleted… and still breathing… before you can laugh at me."
Tonks gulped as she felt the seriousness of the Potions Master's threat; her hair faded to a dishwater brown. Without a doubt she knew that he could… and would… follow through.
"I would have no hesitation in… dissecting... you now," his tone became conversational. "However, my son quite enjoys your class. He is very fond of running and jumping and getting fit. I doubt he would take your disappearance well. So, for the moment, I expect you to continue teaching and to remember that myself and the others are your colleagues."
A slim hand dropped down to help Tonks up. She then noticed that the floor was no longer icy. Warily she took the assistance and allowed the older wizard to draw her to her feet.
Tonks took a deep breath and smoothed her red and gold Auror robes. She studied them, and then wondered if she ought to purchase the more staid teaching robes. Her hair drifted to long, straight, and a sedate dark blue.
"I am sorry, Professor," sighed Tonks as the colour of her hair lightened to a more 'lit by the sun' blue. "Honestly, Uncle Lucius told me you'd be snarky but you'd like my attention." Only one eyebrow raised to show that Snape was caught off guard by the statement. "You're just as irritated with me as you were when I was a student." Tonks waited but Snape did not say a word. Thinking there was no more to be said she turned away, and headed towards the Staffroom door. Just as her hand touched the ornate, brass knob, she stopped at Snape's voice.
"I was irritated with the student, Professor Tonks. I… admit… I had expected a more… sedate mien... when you were hired as a teacher." Snape stepped up beside the petite witch, and waved the door open for her. "Might I suggest… a bit more decorum at mealtime?"
Tonks smiled, and nodded. "I suppose I could… Professor Snape." She stepped out into the narrow corridor that led either to the teachers dais in the Great Hall, or the Entrance Hall of the castle.
Snape gave the young witch a narrow, courteous bow, and ushered her out of the Staffroom. He closed the door behind the new teacher then left via a second door and proceeded down to the dungeons to prepare for his classes.
-The End of November-
November soon came to a close. Snape ended Hermione's enforced dry spell away from her books cautioning her to live beyond the pages she often tried to disappear within. Her Head of House had noted that after the first week of being without her books, and with the restrictions in regards to the library, the girl had emerged more from her shell and had begun interacting more with her fellow Snakes. As the story of her eventual adoption by the Malfoys gained momentum, more of the Slytherins who had been wary of her, due to prejudices passed on by their parents, took more of an interest in the Muggle-born girl. Smart Hermione used this not to build upon the inherent prejudice of Purebloods versus Muggles, but as a stepping stone to build more understanding for those magical children that were the product of a mixed birth.
Not every student in Slytherin was lured to the young first years side, such as Marcus Flint, who seemed better suited to bullying anyone who wasn't him. A few other students remained wary and watchful. Pansy Parkinson would waffle between prejudice and curiosity until her own inborn vituperative nature would throw out any hope of just a simple friendship between the two girls. Millicent often found herself refereeing these verbal fights until Prefect Anglaise broke them up. Snape was forced to take points and assign detentions as Pansy, leading Crabbe and Goyle, continued to try and harass Hermione, and sometimes Draco and Harry, in Potions by misguided, and sometimes moronic attempts to sabotage their potions. Snape finally, and ultimately dealt with this annoyance by threatening expulsion for the next Slytherin who tampered with a fellow Slytherin's potion.
Snape had also begun the brewing of Wolfsbane for the Deputy Headmaster, but made the man come down to his private lab just after the last class and before dinner, to assist. The Potions Master intended for the wizard to learn how, and to master, the brewing of the potion he needed. Snape also intended to research a few improvements.
The disappearance of Quirinus Quirrell was forgotten rather quickly, at least by the students. There wasn't any student that had cared for him as a person, or as a teacher, and Tonks not only was good, but she was popular amongst all the Houses, including Slytherin. She no longer flirted with Snape but did so with the Deputy Headmaster who had the decency to blush under the young woman's attentions.
Quirrell, though, was still a puzzle for the Headmaster. He continually wondered where the young wizard might have gone to, and why, and his speculations were always attended to by Snape, over tea. Whatever plans the Headmaster had once had for Harry appeared to be stalled. There was still a search going on for the still missing Philosopher's Stone, and for this, Snape was still keeping an eye upon Hermione. He felt that if she didn't have it, then it was she who must have secreted it someplace.
With the end of November and the onset of December all the students, and even the staff could talk about were the promise of the holidays, Christmas and gift shopping, and the magnificent Malfoys Winter Ball.
It would be a busy December.
Update 5/2015
