Severus Snape's Third Year at Hogwarts
Salazar Slytherin was either a very clever wizard, paranoid, or simply loved secrets. Out of the four Founders, it was Salazar who had the most intriguing secrets within the stony walls of Hogwarts. One of those secrets had been discovered a long time ago by a third year Slytherin who was trying to evade four bullies who had the intention to severely worry his backside with Stinging Hexes.
Severus Snape had gone down to the dungeons, and for a short time had hidden in the Slytherin common room, but there he faced teasing from his Slytherin fellows who bothered him about running from Gryffindors. Severus had left under a dark cloud of annoyance, and had nearly run into Potter, and Black, two of the four who never seemed content to allow him a moment of peace. How they knew of where the Slytherin common room was, he didn't know, but at least he had seen them first, and he dashed down the corridor in the other direction.
James, and Sirius had heard the distinctive clacking of Snivellus' over-sized, pointy-toed boots, and the chase was on.
An hour later, an exhausted, and thoroughly bewildered Severus Snape wondered, once again, how the two nitwits kept finding him, in the dungeons, when neither had an entire brain cell between the two of them!
He had been caught by two Stinging Hexes; one upon his posterior, the other on his upper left thigh. Severus was sure he'd gotten Potter with an Acne Hex, and he had certainly hit Black with a Nose Enlarging Hex. He was angry enough that he was contemplating a nasty curse that would obliterate both Gryffindors permanently, when, as he leaned against the wall to catch his breath, he fell through into deep shadows.
A Lumos, meant to light his wand, also lit a series of torches placed several feet apart as they vanished downward. Had Severus fallen a bit further, he would have had a painful trip down a narrow, walled in, spiral staircase. He glanced behind himself to find that whatever hole, or door he'd slipped through, was gone. There was no choice but to venture further down, and explore.
The spiral staircase descended to a ridiculous depth and Severus, who prided himself on never being weak, felt rather dizzy once he did reach the bottom. Unconcerned with what might be around him, he thumped his seat down onto the bottom stair, and lowered his head. He didn't lift it until his thoughts had settled back into place once more.
What Severus saw, at first, really was nothing to get excited about. Ahead of him, lit by more torches spaced much further apart than on the stairs, was a long tunnel, that appeared to vanish in a turn, just ahead.
Severus stood, and walked down the corridor, discovering that there were, indeed, wonders to get excited about.
3 Jan 1992, Friday
The Dungeon Under the Dungeon, that hidden tunnel Snape had found so long ago in his third year had been his secret alone until he had revealed it to Poppy.
-When Quirrell Disappeared-
The medi-witch had been suitably impressed as they wandered down the torch lit corridor – corridor being a friendly term – for something that hadn't been excavated and carved out by an expert in building design. There were niches of shelves that held books, or artefacts. The artefacts were from simple toys to magnificent creations that would even make the Headmaster drool if he saw them. Larger rooms, that were off-shoots from the main tunnel-corridor either lay empty, or were cluttered with old furniture, armor, and all manner of oddities. Poppy had stared at the one room that was filled to the ceiling with bolts of Acromantula Spider Silk cloth. She then saw a lovely black silk wool.
"Your robes, Severus?" asked the medi-witch.
Snape shook his head as he stroked the cloth. "My robes come from a bolt of fabric I found in my grandparents vaults." Snape smirked, and nudged the medi-witch gently with his elbow. "I am amenable to sharing, Poppy."
The medi-witch turned bright eyes onto the Potions Master, and he could see in the shine the hope of a much younger, yet still very lovely witch. "May I?" she asked, nearly like the schoolgirl she once had been. Snape nodded, and then watched with some pleasure as Poppy, with proper gravity, entered the room of silk, and began touching the fabric that spilled over other bolts, and flowed like coloured water upon the floor. She was so caught up in her exploration that she wasn't aware of Snape until he was right beside her.
"You would look quite the lady in a traveling outfit in this, Poppy," Snape's silken voice had insinuated itself in a way she was certain was not quite proper.
Poppy's eyes glanced down at the Damask rose shaded Acromantula silk that Snape held against her hand. For a moment she allowed herself to imagine a long jacket over a gown all of the same rose. "Wait! Did you say traveling outfit, Severus?" Poppy gave him a stern, and questioning glare.
"I have been considering visiting an old house that my mother owned in New England. It is in a Muggle village, but I think you would find that a traveling outfit, perhaps just a little modernised, would still look well." Poppy scowled. The Potions professor had one of those tiny, rather know-it-all smirks dancing across his lips. She didn't often see such an expression, but she knew it was smugly secretive.
"Severus Snape, whatever are you planning, and what makes you think I would kow-tow to your plans?" she demanded.
Snape's face shadowed as he smoothly tucked away his amusement. "Merely an invitation to visit, Poppy. I would hardly care to impose upon any plans you have for the Summer." He then escorted her out of the silk room, and led her down to the furthest end of the corridor.
Since that day when Snape had revealed the hidden tunnel that led to Professor Quirrell's cell, Poppy had visited, thrice daily.
At the end of the tunnel within a small chamber, roughly ovoid in shape, upon a narrow hospital cot, lay Quirinus Quirrell. Runes covered the quilt that was draped over him, and more runes were carved into the walls, and the floor, and the threshold of the door. Snape, utilising the Rune Craft he had been taught by Lucius, used the runes to weave wards, and spells, that kept not only Quirrell in a deep, protective sleep, but served to confuse the Fiend, Voldemort, so that he was unable to break through the spells, and wards.
Poppy would visit her patient to spell Nutrition Potion into him, to run Diagnostics, including a spell that Snape had taught her that would monitor the Fiend. She would then Scourgify his clothing. Every three days she would sponge bathe him the Muggle way. Cleaning spells were simply too harsh to use on long-term comatose patients.
Snape, himself, visited once right before the night of the Winter Ball to double check all the spells and wards he had placed. It had also given him one, last chance, to encourage the medi-witch to be a true friend, and to help him foist off Narcissa's match-making attentions.
As Poppy glided down the corridor (Oh Merlin! Do I glide now?), a waltz from the night of the Winter Ball crossed her lips.
She really wasn't a woman for dancing, and parties, and all that fol-de-rol. The truth was, when she was a teenager there had been no boys at her beck and call to escort her to such frivolities. Poppy had never really thought much of her looks, and so, when her mentor had suggested that she 'age' herself for her position at Hogwarts, she did so without a second thought. A few grey hairs, and a touch of smile wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, had been enough. Except for one Slytherin boy who had the uncanny ability to see through her glamour his second year.
From that point on, Poppy had begun to earn Severus Snape's trust. She not only patched him up from the many fights he got into with the Marauders, but the medi-witch alone had forgiven him for the Dark Mark weeks before the Headmaster had done so. After that, it was Poppy who patched the Potions Master up after the horrid meetings with the Dark Lord. It was she that nursed him when Voldemort's punishments were nearly deadly to the man. Poppy was also the only one who knew about the nightmares that Snape suffered from, and it was she who held him when they became too much.
They had always been friends; something Dumbledore seemed to take for granted since Poppy herself was an alumni of Slytherin. He never thought to question their friendship, and in fact, the two Slytherins kept it quiet. Neither, it seemed, wanted to do anything to jeopardise the friendship.
Poppy had refused Snape's invitation to the Winter Ball as a matter of course, at first. She then 'reminded' the younger wizard that she did have Quirrell to attend to.
The Potions Master was, it seemed, rather terrified of dealing with Narcissa Malfoy, and so Snape had been persistent. Poppy finally relented, and to her surprise, had quite enjoyed herself.
It was the end of the evening that still had the matron 'gliding' along floors. As she dealt perfunctorily with Quirrell's body, Poppy's mind drifted back to that night at the Winter Ball.
Snape had led Madame Pomfrey out onto the balcony that was warmed with Warming Charms. For a quiet, and slightly uneasy moment, they both looked out upon the Winter wonderland of the Malfoy front lawn, until Snape spoke quietly.
"You really are quite lovely, Poppy." The wizard's voice was so low that Poppy almost had not heard the compliment. As he had begun to speak, though, she had automatically leaned closer.
Poppy smiled, then looked down at her gown. "The dress is quite out of date, Severus. I even heard one witch in there mention to Narcissa that it was 'common'."
Snape glowered, and he glanced over his shoulder at the dancers inside the ballroom. "Who said that? Do you mean that viper with the outrageously tall hair?"
Poppy laughed, and nodded. "You did see her get caught in one of the decorations, didn't you?" Snape smirked in reply. "She'll think twice about a hairstyle that tall again."
The awkward silence was back between witch and wizard, and Poppy was thinking to herself that it would be best to leave now before it got any worse. She faced the tall man beside her, and smiled up at him. "I really did have a nice..."
The kiss was so unexpected that Poppy was frozen in place. After a second's breath, her senses were... nearly back... and she found herself wrapping her arms around the Potions Master, kissing him back.
Just as quickly as the kiss had appeared, it was too quickly gone, and Poppy, feeling breathless, happily delirious, had to frown as Snape apologised for his actions.
"You take that apology back, Severus Snape!" the woman hissed, causing Snape's eyes to widen with surprise. "I would not have kissed you had I any objection, so don't you dare try to tell me you regret what you just did!
"It is not that, Poppy," Snape spoke softly, just loud enough for the both of them. He had leaned forward so that his forehead brushed hers. "To be honest, I have wished to do that for quite some time, but I never had a proper excuse. The reason I am apologising, though, is that I cannot indulge myself, now. I have a son..." his voice faded.
Poppy brushed her lips to his, and smiled. "You know that I understand, Severus. Harry needs his father, and only his father. When he is truly happy, and secure with you, then... perhaps... if you wish to pursue this moment?"
Poppy's cheeks flushed with warmth at her boldness, and Snape drew the lovely woman into his embrace. He laid his cheek against the soft hair upon her head, and breathed in the scent of wildflowers.
The medi-witch finished with Professor Quirrell. She regarded him, leaned over and plumped his pillow, and fixed his blanket so that it was smooth across his arms and chest. She turned, and with a gentle smile upon her lips, she left the small cell, humming a waltz under her breath. And, wondering about collecting some of the Damask rose silk from the silk room; possibly other colours. It had been years since she wore gowns as opposed to her Healer's robes.
Just a few steps later Poppy was happily within the chaos of the Silk Room. She had all ready selected the Damask Rose Acromantula Silk and she had added a sage coloured satin, brushed woven cotton in beige, and she was now on her knees before a large chest of ribbons, lace, buttons of pearl, mother-of-pearl, opal, and fiery garnet. Poppy had only meant to collect the Damask Rose but as her collection grew she boxed it all, shrank it, and decided that a visit to Madame Malkin was in order.
The Potions Master was seated by the fire in his favourite chair trying to go over his lesson plans, and doing a very poor job of it. His index finger kept brushing against his lips, and every once in awhile a rather dreamy smile would ghost across those same lips, and vanish in a breath.
Thoughts of the comely medi-witch were thrust from his mind as he heard, "Dad? I put everything away. What can I do now?"
Harry came to lean against the arm of Snape's chair. His father frowned down at him. "What can you do? Merlin, Harry! You have half a toy store in your room, and quite a respectable drawing set. I would think you would have quite a bit to keep you busy."
Harry raised a shoulder, shrugging. "Yeah. I know." His finger traced over the leather of the arm of the chair. Snape watched as the traveling index finger made its way onto his fingers, and then the child's hand curled into his. "Draco's not going to be back forever..."
Snape interrupted, "Draco, and Hermione will be back with all the other students Sunday evening, son. That is not forever."
"Yeah, okay," Harry conceded with a small smile, that he aimed up at his father. "Isn't there something we can do? I mean, I know you said you gotta do all that school stuff before everyone comes back, but maybe you and I can do something? Or maybe I can help?"
"I think having you assist me with lesson plans would give you an unfair advantage over your friends," Snape's mouth went up in that teasing smirk Harry was familiar with. "Ah! I know," said Snape as the smirk deepened, "You could do lines, or an essay, or..."
"Daaad!" Harry protested. "That's like punishment and homework stuff! Isn't there something fun we can do? Do you have some potions to brew for Madame Pomfrey?"
Snape's eyes blinked in remembrance. Sending his book of lesson plans to his desk, he rose from his chair. Harry's brow beetled as he watched his father. "There is something we need to do, and I completely forgot you wanted to take care of this after Christmas."
Harry gave his father a wary look. He was sure that whatever it was, was not fun, and not something he wanted to do today. He decided that he'd go back to his room. "I think I'm going to go read," Harry said a bit glumly.
"Oh, no you are not, Harry. Come along. We are going to the Infirmary to find out what your balance problem with wizarding modes of travel is." Snape opened the door of his quarters that led directly into the dungeon corridor, and motioned his son to follow. "We shall walk."
Harry huffed in indignation. Definitely NOT fun!
Madame Pomfrey was only a few minutes behind the arrival of Harry and his father. Seeing the disgruntled look on the boy's face, and the arms across his chest that was a very Snape-ish mannerism, the medi-witch squelched her amused smile, and turned to the Potions Master.
"Has Mr. Snape a problem?" she asked both.
"No," Harry huffed.
"Yes," countered his father. Snape went on to explain while Poppy led them over to a cleanly made bed for Harry to sit upon. "Harry has been having dizzy spells whenever he travels by Floo, and he has experienced some nausea. Portkey travel seems to cause the same problem. However, as you well know, flying on a broom gives him no trouble at all."
Poppy waved her wand over Harry and he stared in boredom at a corner of the Infirmary. "Well, most magical children raised in a magical home get used to wizarding travel just by the sheer frequency of it. A child Harry's age is going to find such travel upsetting for awhile." She glanced down at Harry until she had his attention. "You never did travel by Floo or Portkey before coming here, is that right, Mr. Snape?"
"No," Harry shook his head. "But neither did Hermione and she's never been dizzy, or sicked up once!"
"And how often has the inestimable Miss Malfoy traveled by Floo?" Snape asked pointedly.
Harry grimaced. Other than Flooing to Malfoy Manor for the holidays, and then to Paris, he could not think of any other time that Hermione might have traveled in such a manner. Still, Hermione had been grace itself when emerging from the Floo at the Floo station before they continued on to France.
"Well, Hermione didn't trip when we went to Paris," Harry replied stubbornly.
"Mr. Snape," chided Madame Pomfrey, "some children develop a sense of balance either naturally, or through such things as dance. As I understand it, Miss Malfoy's Muggle parents sent her to dance class at a very early age."
Harry glared past both adults, and muttered, "I'm not gonna learn how to dance."
Snape let out an amused snort, and Madame Pomfrey smiled. "I don't think that's necessary, dear," she said patting Harry's shoulder. "I haven't found a thing wrong. It is just going to take a bit of concentration, and maybe a small dose of Anti-Nausea Potion now and then."
Harry huffed out a sigh of relief and smiled at that. Poppy indicated that Snape needed to step aside with her out of the child's hearing. Concerned, still, Snape followed as they moved towards one of the Infirmary's tall windows.
"I didn't want to say this in Harry's hearing, Severus, because I know he's sensitive about being small for his age, but his trouble with Floo, and Portkey travel is due to his stunted growth at his reprehensible family's hands. He is growing," the medi-witch assured him, "And he will have a growth spurt, possibly when he is thirteen, but he is unfortunately still the size of a nine-year old child. All small children have difficulties with wizarding travel due to the fact they are growing, and balance can be an issue."
Snape sighed. "Harry is going to get incredibly frustrated with this issue before the anticipated growth spurt, Poppy. Is there not something that can be done?"
Poppy smiled, and nodded. "I know he isn't going to want to dance, but there are other disciplines that can help with a child's control over their balance. I know you were going to start training him in Defense next year, but perhaps there is something you can teach him now?"
"Shield spells," Snape said thoughtfully, "but to use them in, say, a mock duel..." the Potions Master shook his head slowly. "It is too taxing upon his magic."
"And his magic is tied into his growth, Severus," nodded Poppy, her mouth a somewhat grim line. "It's like that with all children."
"I know, Poppy," Snape's voice was testy. "Why else do the first years get mostly theory in classes?"
"Then teach your son to dance!" the medi-witch snapped huffily. "Either that, or you and Harry will both have to put up with his dizziness until his balance settles." Madame Pomfrey raised her voice so Harry could hear her, "Mr. Snape! You're released." She then tried to flounce briskly away but was stopped by a hand catching hers.
"Poppy," Snape said quietly, and she glanced down at his thumb moving softly over the back of her hand. "Thank you for taking care of my son. I shall think of some exercise to help him." He started to give her a formal nod, but then he leaned over, and placed a chaste kiss to her cheek. While she was still blushing, and a bit stunned, Snape turned away and gathered his son.
Just as they left the Infirmary, Poppy came out of her stupor and heard Harry ask, "Dad? You kissed Madame Pomfrey. How come you did that?"
4 Jan 1992, Saturday
Severus,
My contact in Egypt, Dr. Noorahm Hemdawws, has come through more than I had expected. Not only did Dr. Hemdawws have the scroll that I spoke to you of many months ago, but he had the artefact as well. It cost rather a sizable donation to his museum, and funding to his current archeological project. The Hourglass of Anubis is nothing more than a costly trinket to Muggles. There is a problem, though, and I shall speak to you of it when I visit on the thirteenth. Little League Quidditch practice will begin on that day, and young Harry will receive notification on Monday.
Lucius
6 Jan 1992, Monday
Term at Hogwarts began on Monday with chatter from all the students reliving their holiday with their friends. Classes intruded without thought to the holidays, though, with revisions, essays, quizzes, and practicals.
Monday evening saw the return of the little study group that met in the annex within Snape's office. Snape was busy with a stack of quizzes as the twins, Fred and George Weasley arrived, but with them were Neville, and a thoroughly nervous Ron Weasley who was trying to pretend he wasn't holding onto a fold of Fred's school robes.
"Mr. Ronald Weasley," Snape drew out the boy's name dangerously, and with a predatory smile brushing his lips. Ron's cheeks whitened, making the freckles stand out. He leaned in closer to Fred, and Fred put an arm on his little brother's shoulder.
"Ronnie," George hissed in the smallest redhead's ear. "You have something to say to the professor!"
Harry and Draco, flanking Hermione protectively, peered out of the annex, just as Neville scurried over to join them.
"Ah... uhm... sir..." Ron felt suddenly thirsty as he gaped a bit.
"I am listening, Mr. Weasley," Snape spoke quietly.
"M-my mum talked to... uhm... McGonagall..."
Snape interrupted smoothly, "Professor McGonagall."
"Right! Professor McGonagall said I'm s'posed to study w-with..." he glanced uneasily over his shoulder.
The Potions Master decided not to wait for the young first year's explanation. He already knew that Molly Weasley and Minerva had discussed a further punishment for the boy, after what he had done to Hermione when she was still a Gryffindor. Minerva had suggested that Ron work with the study group, and Snape, after some discussion, had agreed conditionally. The boy would need to apologise to the girl, and then it was up to her if she wanted to be saddled with him in her study group.
"Mr. Weasley, I think you need to speak to Miss Malfoy, first, and then we shall allow her to decide..."
"Miss Malfoy?" Ron blurted in puzzlement. "Who's that?"
Hermione stepped out of the small study and into her professor's office. "I am." Hermione crossed her arms defensively over her chest.
Fred nudged Ron. "We told you about this, Ronnie. Hermione's been adopted by the Malfoys." He then scooted his brother towards Hermione. "Apologise."
Ron's mouth dropped open again, but he gathered himself with a deep fortifying breath, and began, "Er, Hermione." His eyes dropped to the floor.
Snape was about to admonish the Gryffindor, when Hermione spouted what he would have said, "Look at me, Ron, if you mean to be sincere."
Ron's head snapped up. "Yeah, sorry. I mean, well, about what me and Seamus, and Dean did, Hermione." Hermione's lips thinned at the memory of the assault from the three Gryffindors; who had been her House mates, at the time. "It was bad. I mean, we were bad. I mean, I was. I don't even know why I was so stupid, and mean, and it all just went pear-shaped, you know?" Ron bit his lower lip, as he heard Professor Snape clearing his throat in disapproval.
"What are you trying to say, Ron?" asked Hermione sharply.
Ron blurted, "I'm sorry! I don't got an excuse, but..." he shrugged helplessly. "I was stupid, and mum was real mad at me. Disappointed, too. So was my dad. I thought he wouldn't talk to me no more. S'pose I would have deserved it."
Hermione's voice was taut, and everyone could hear the hurt still in her voice. "I didn't deserve what you boys did, Ron. I know you didn't do the worst, but you were there always saying some of the most terrible things about me, and that hurt even more." Her voice rose, as she stepped suddenly closer to Ron. "I'm a nice person, and I never hurt you! I know I was being ignored, and I was being a prat, and all, but you never let me alone with all those things you said, and got everyone else to say, too! It was cruel!" Suddenly both her hands struck Ron's chest, knocking him back so he fell against Fred, who caught him.
Ron pulled away from Fred, who thought his little brother was going to get mad, but the redhead didn't. "You're right, Hermione. I shouldn't have done any of that and I really am sorry. My mum wants me to study with my brothers, but since they've been helping you guys, I won't if you don't want me around."
Hermione, who was feeling a bit alone, was pleased when Draco moved to stand next to her. "'Mione's my sister, now, Weasley," he sneered. "That means you better not do anything that hurts her ever again because I'll hurt you, and then my father will sue yours!"
"Mr. Malfoy!" Snape chided sharply. "We will have no threats of litigation here. This is between Mr. Weasley, and Miss Malfoy. We shall let your sister decide, now."
Draco's lips thinned, and he crossed his arms belligerently over his chest as he glared at the youngest Weasley.
Hermione was staring at Ron Weasley. In her head she heard all of the insults the boy had said to the other Gryffindors to stir them up. At first, it seemed everyone in Gryffindor was willing to punish her for her detentions, and points losses, at Ron's instigation. The followers began to drop off, though. It was Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and Ron Weasley who just couldn't let it go. Even when others lost points, or got detentions, those three castigated her.
It had hurt her. Deeply. However, she had survived similar taunting in primary school, and she thought she could weather this, as well. Hermione never expected an assault by all three boys. What they had done was beyond anything Hermione had ever experienced. It was beyond cruel; it was criminal. One boy had been expelled, for good. Another had received a very long suspension. Yet, Ron Weasley, who for once was NOT the instigator, yet had done nothing to help her, had received the lightest sentence.
Hermione wasn't really sure how she should feel. There was a part of her that wanted to physically hurt the boy, but then there was another part that just wanted it all behind her.
Why, though, she had to wonder, did Professor McGonagall think it was a punishment to Ron to make him study with her?
Snape was watching the girl's features and he could clearly see the byplay of old anger, and confusion. He grit his teeth. He had been incensed with Minerva when she came to him with the suggestion that the youngest Weasley ought to be reprimanded further by studying with the child he had so victimised! And he had allowed it? Dunderhead! he kicked himself mentally. Obviously Hermione had a problem with the punishment, as well. He needed to fix this.
"Miss Malfoy," he summoned the girl over to his side of his desk with a crook of his finger. Hermione quickly moved over to her teacher and listened earnestly as he spoke for her hearing alone. "You shall not accept this, Miss Granger. I can see that you feel it is another insult to you, rather than a punishment to Mr. Weasley. Why I allowed this... clearly I was not thinking."
Hermione whispered into the older wizard's ear, "I know you wouldn't hurt me, sir, but why is Professor McGonagall doing this to me?"
Snape's lips thinned to a razor anger. The last thing he had wanted was for the child to feel once again the one who had done wrong. He stood, his hand upon the girl's shoulder.
"This will not suit, Mr. Weasley," declared Snape. "I realise what your mother was thinking, but I feel it is best that you catch up on your studies with your Housemates." The Head of Slytherin House was a little startled (though he didn't show it) that both the twins were nodding in agreement with him.
Ron let out a sigh, partly of relief. "Sure, sir."
George spoke up, "I'll take little Ronnikins back to Gryffindor tower, sir." Ron tried to scowl at his brother for the nickname, but George scowled right back. "Let's go, Ron. Professor McGonagall will probably have some lines or such for you to do instead."
The remaining students watched as George left with Ron. Hermione, though, looked up at Professor Snape, and smiled at him. He scowled, and let out a harrumph.
6 Jan 1992, Monday - End of the Day
"You really should have insisted, Severus," said Minerva, her tongue clucking annoyingly.
Snape had been invited... no, summoned... to Professor McGonagall's office, and he was not happy about it.
"I distinctly recall saying when I arrived here, Minerva, that I believe this is an issue that the Deputy Headmaster should iron out. Therefore, I will say nothing more on the matter."
Minerva pursed her lips in frustration. She then sighed, and asked, "Tea, then, Severus?"
Snape simply shook his head and remained stiffly seated in the far too comfortable chair.
A knock soon came on Minerva's office door, and Snape rose to greet Remus Lupin. He looked to the Transfiguration teacher, and then to Snape.
"You asked for me, Professor Snape?"
Snape was pleased at the lack of friendly overtures. Remus had gone right to business. He nodded, "I did, Professor Lupin. I asked you here because I do not believe that you are aware that Molly Weasley had requested a further reprimand for her youngest son upon his return. I was remiss as well in not informing you at once when this arose."
"Severus!" Minerva said with annoyance. "This is hardly a matter for the Deputy!"
Snape scowled at the witch in annoyance. "On the contrary, Professor McGonagall," he corrected staunchly. "Ronald Weasley was suspended after an egregious attack upon the person of Hermione Malfoy. Anything to do with him as he integrates back into school life falls within the purview of the Deputy Headmaster."
"He is in my House!" Minerva ground out sharply.
"Yes, Ronald Weasley is in Gryffindor," interrupted Remus. "But, as you recall, I am not only the Deputy Headmaster, but the Head of Gryffindor House. You have no jurisdiction over the students beyond your classroom, Minerva." Remus used her name to soften the blow of his reminder.
"But Molly spoke to me," she asserted, most of her bluster gone from her voice.
"And that is when you should have brought the issue to me," concluded Remus. He sighed in disappointment. "I agree that Mr. Weasley owed Miss Malfoy an apology, but to further subject the girl to the presence of her bully was cruel..." he paused, and then said with some hardness, "...on your part, Minerva." Remus's rebuke was not finished, as he turned to the Potions Master. "On the other hand, Severus, as soon as you heard of this, you should have contacted me." Snape frowned at the reprimand since he had already acknowledged his part in the whole thing. "I am going to take this matter in hand so neither of you have to deal with it further. Severus, you can assure Miss Malfoy that she is under no obligation to deal with Ronald Weasley, unless she so chooses."
Remus gave each teacher a nod, and then smoothly left the Transfiguration teacher's office.
"Well! He's a bit jumped up!" scathingly spat Minerva.
"And you weren't?" Snape retorted pointedly. "Minerva," his voice was a bit more gentle, "you really do need to remember that you are no longer Head of Gryffindor."
"It's still my House, Severus!" she snapped. The witch then seemed to wilt in upon herself. "Oh Merlin! I know I should have said something to Remus but truly I saw nothing wrong with Molly's request."
Snape returned to his chair. He wanted to point out that this was another habit of Gryffindors; that they rarely paused to think, but he said nothing on that. After all, he cringed inwardly, he had not thought it out, either. It did bother him to see how hard Minerva was taking the reminder that she had lost so much influence in the school. "That was, perhaps an understandable error, but you and I both seemed to forget that it was Remus who should have dealt with this at the outset."
Minerva nodded. "How is Hermione faring, Severus?"
"She is a child, and is choosing to bounce back from this," Snape replied.
Minerva's face clouded somewhat, "So she is truly doing well in Slytherin?"
Snape regarded her with a little puzzlement. Was that Gryffindor prejudice against Slytherins still there? "Quite well," he said slowly. "Miss Malfoy has been accepted by more of the Slytherins then I initially thought she would. Better now since the adoption. No one would dare question a Malfoy for bringing a Muggle-born into their home." The Potions Master then seemed to shrug. "The girl does still appear to wear her heart on her sleeve, though."
Minerva snorted delicately, "Like a Gryffindor!"
10 Jan 1992, Friday
The first week of the new term went smoothly, but Snape did note that the Headmaster seemed to be pointedly avoiding him the obligatory staff meeting at the end of the week. That was normal enough, but then Dumbledore had held back Snape, Minerva, Pomona Sprout, and Hagrid at the end of the meeting. Himself, and the others, Snape noted, had been the contributors of the ridiculous obstacle course the Headmaster had them create to confound anyone seeking after the stone. This meeting was short, and was simply a notification from Dumbledore that he had dismantled their puzzles. The Headmaster had then dismissed everyone but Snape.
"Do you think that Quirrell might have acquired the Philosopher's Stone, Headmaster?" asked Snape, finding himself suppressing a yawn. Staff meetings were notoriously boring, and these further, little meetings only put Snape's nerves on edge especially since the Headmaster had been avoiding his presence.
"I believe that if he were in possession of the Stone we would know of it." Dumbledore ran his fingers through the length of his beard. "I have been wondering if perhaps Miss Granger..."
The Headmaster was interrupted by a smooth correction from Snape, "Miss Malfoy."
"Yes, yes," Dumbledore said with an irritated wave of his hand. Snape scowled softly. He was not aware that the Headmaster had any problem with the adoption. "Miss Malfoy's unfortunate encounter with the Mirror of Erised may have given the child the Philosopher's Stone, Severus. I would like for you to search for it, and also to watch her carefully."
Snape erased his scowl, and listened since there was not much that he knew about the Stone. "I can have her trunk and dorm searched as part of my monthly inspections. What, precisely, though, am I looking for?"
"When the Stone is in its quiescent state, it is rather unremarkable looking. A bit like a chunk of granite," explained Dumbledore.
"Quiescent?" inquired Snape.
Dumbledore smiled gently. "The Philosopher's Stone has a curious property in that it turns crimson, becomes like a fiery stone as it comes near someone who desires it for its intended use. Perenelle used to tell myself and Nicolas that she could hear it sing," the older wizard chuckled. "Neither of us ever heard it sing, so we both attributed that possibility to one of Perenelle's fancies." Dumbledore raised himself from his chair. "One thing you must be wary of, Severus, if Miss Granger does have the Stone. She may become very reluctant to let go of it."
"Miss Malfoy," Snape again corrected, and this time he caught the brief flash of annoyance in the Headmaster's features.
"Just be careful, Severus. Good day." With that terse farewell, Snape knew he was dismissed to teach his classes.
13 Jan 1992, Monday
Snape looked down at a discoloured alabaster box that Lucius had left in his care after they had met that afternoon before Little League Quidditch practice. On its lid, and sides, were drawings of the Egyptian Jackal Headed God, Anubis and figures in white robes. The drawing on the lid was more striking with Anubis in a semi-circle of the white robed figures. Two white robed figures were escorting a naked man to where Anubis stood. Before Anubis was an artefact that looked like nothing more than an hourglass with sand suspended in the top half of the glass.
Within the box was the Hourglass of Anubis. An ancient artefact created by a wizard. Legend told that the hourglass was a tool used to determine if a criminal's soul was Dark or Light. If the soul was Light, there were no consequences, but if the soul were Dark, supposedly Anubis himself would appear and devour the soul. Snape and Lucius both thought that the consequences sounded very much like the soul devouring Kiss of the Dementors; those mysterious, dark creatures that surrounded the wizarding prison, Azkaban. The Dementors were not discriminating as the hourglass was; they would take innocent or guilty soul alike.
"Good evening, Professor Snape!" Hermione Malfoy walked through his office door, a smile on her lips. Filing in behind her were Harry, Draco, Neville Longbottom, and then the twins.
"Good evening, Miss Malfoy." Snape's greeting was slightly absent-minded as he eyed the twins. Fred and George Weasley smiled affably, but then their smiles faltered at the grim smile that appeared on the Potions Master's lips. "Misters Weasley, a moment before you begin your study, please?"
Snape could not immediately speak to the twins as it took a few minutes to ensconce the other four students into their study niche, and then for the professor to erect a Silencing Spell that would keep their meeting private. He then motioned for the two identical Weasleys to sit and he pushed the alabaster box forward. He gave them a nod.
Both students were puzzled by the odd, decorative box, but George, the more curious, grasped the box, and ran his fingers over it nimbly. Anyone else would think that the boy was probably feeling the indentations of the ancient carvings. Snape knew that George Weasley was getting a Sense from the box and its contents. George, who was able to feel the aura of Dark magic, was using that talent to discover if the box, and the hourglass within, was a dark artefact. Frowning, he handed the box to his brother.
Just as George had lightly explored the box with his touch, so did Fred. Fred's Sense was to discover if the box and its artefact were magic of the Light. Finally, he frowned as well.
"Light," said Fred thoughtfully to his twin.
"Dark," countered George.
Both boys looked up at their teacher for an explanation. "Within the box is an ancient artefact known as the Hourglass of Anubis. It was created to detect a good soul from a bad soul. If a bad soul were encountered," Snape paused, giving each Weasley boy a knowing glare, "the Hourglass, or the spirit of Anubis within, would devour it."
George gulped and very carefully put the box down. For extra measure he then pushed it back at Snape. The Potions Master smirked.
Fred asked, "What will you do with something awful like that, sir?" There was a sarcastic joke on the tip of Fred's tongue, but the look on George's face that he had touched something disgusting, made him swallow his amusement.
"Meet me in my office at curfew, if you are still interested." Snape stood and lifted his wand, prepared to end the Silencing Spell over the door of the studying Silver Trio and Neville. His look centered darkly upon the twins, "I warn you both, though, what I reveal, if you are unable to assist me, will be Obliviated from your mind."
Fred suddenly wanted some chocolate, and he glanced over at his twin. George pierced his teacher with his own, blue-eyed gaze. He stretched out his hand, "Sir?"
With silent understanding, Snape nodded curtly, held out his hand, his right hand, and grasped the younger wizard's swift grip only for as long as it took George to breathe a sigh of relief.
George nodded, and smiled, "If whatever this is for could involve an Obliviation, well... we just had to be sure, sir."
Snape lifted his wand, then paused. He regarded George. With a short shake of his head, he lifted the spell, and indicated that the twins join their students.
The students were deep into their study when they were pleasantly interrupted by six mugs of hot chocolate. Snape appeared completely absorbed in his grading, and unaware of the treat floating towards the students.
George, nearest the doorway, grabbed each mug of coco and handed it to one of his friends. With the last mug he winked knowingly at his twin. Fred chuckled softly.
Update 5/2015
