Typical Disclaimers Apply

A/N: This little sign-thing: -+-+-+- means that the focus has changed but the scene hasn't. I'm doing a lot with Snape this story, but I'm still generally focused on Esme.

Also, I haven't forgotten about dedications! This next block is dedicated to Meena!

--

The start-of-term feast couldn't have been bleaker if Umbridge had been there. Nearly half of the students were missing due to the new restrictions on Muggle-borns, and those who were there kept looking around longingly for their old friends. The new students looked scared; the atmosphere was anything but friendly and welcoming. Even the Slytherins seemed unhappy. Draco Malfoy stared about longingly whilst Crabbe and Goyle watched him intently. They weren't used to their new, introverted leader.

The teachers were an even sadder bunch. Flitwick was uncharacteristically grim-faced and Slughorn seemed almost ethereally pale, looking as though he'd lost quite a bit of weight over the summer. Alecto, who had been seated next to Snape, was attempting to flirt with him. Snape, on the other hand, just kept staring at Esme.

After Snape and the Carrows had left the classroom, McGonagall had gathered all of the remaining teachers together. She'd told them that, though they may disagree strongly with Snape's policies, it was safest to follow them. She said that when a war is raging and the soldiers are oppressed, the only thing they could do was take down their enemy from the inside. Then she'd turned to Esme and said very specifically that that did not mean seducing and then murdering Snape. Fortunately, after the meeting, she'd taken Esme aside and told her to do what she had to do.

Unfortunately, Esme had no desire to "do" anything with Snape. At all. Ever.

-+-+-+-

Snape's dinner was going about as well as everyone else's. He picked at the turkey on his plate, looking around morosely. Unhappy children, a creepy girl who kept running her hands through his hair, and the one woman he wanted was just out of reach. "It's just like school!" he muttered rather loudly, dropping his head into his palms. McGonagall looked at him, concerned.

"Severus? Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

He sighed, "I have to go. Inform them of the new rules, Minerva." He got up and left, passing Esme. She felt the swish of his robes but didn't look back.

Once he got out of the Great Hall, Snape rested his pounding forehead on the cool stone walls.

"Bastard," one of the portraits snarled. He looked up to see a portrait of Esme, in her bridal gown, glaring down at him. The oddest thing was that she was completely alone.

"Where's your husband?" he mumbled. It wasn't uncommon for portraits to go out and visit, but it was still rather odd to see a bride without groom (wedded bliss and all that good stuff should've kept them together).

"He's….visiting. Another painting. But that's not important!" Snape had never seen a portrait blush, but when her cheeks turned pink it became quite clear that it was possible. "You know, Dumbledore told me about you. About how you feel about her. About me," she growled. For some reason she seemed incredibly livid. Women. "You've had a million chances to tell her how you feel and still you haven't."

"Why don't you tell her?" He felt like he'd said something incredibly clever, but the portrait placed her hands at her waist and narrowed her eyes vehemently.

"Why should I?" she pouted.

"You are, um, her." This was definitely not the right answer. Her cheeks flared up once more and she folded her arms over her chest in true angry-Esme style.

"So? What difference does it make if she's tells it to herself? What do you think matters more, Snape? If she knows it, or who she hears it from?"

"It doesn't matter either way," he said dejectedly.

"Or maybe you're not so bright."

"You know, the real you isn't so cruel."

"You don't know that."

--

"Okay, we need to get one thing straight: it's been sixteen years since I transfigured anything," Sirius said, placing his hands on his hips and staring down his class of first-years. "But I didn't know anything about the Dark Arts either, and I taught that class for three years. I wasn't really a good teacher, but I can teach you what I taught them. Now, I'm sure all of you are quite curious about Azkaban—" McGonagall yanked him away by his ear.

"Is there nothing else you can do?" she hissed.

"I was never trained to be a teacher! Dumbledore just chose me because I seemed stable!"

"Fine," she sighed, her shoulders sagging. "Why don't I handle the teaching aspect of the class, and you can, um, sort things."

"I can do that."

--

Esme quietly sidestepped into the dim, windowless room in which Muggle Studies was being held. A few of the sixth years turned to look at her, but they were wise enough not to say a word. However, Alecto turned around sharply once she heard the door close and barked, "Professor Black, just what are you doing here?"

She smiled warmly and said, "Well Professor Carrow, I was never able to take a Muggle Studies class because it wasn't one of the requirements to be a teacher." Her voice tensed over the word "requirements." "I wasn't raised by Muggles so I don't know anything about them. I've no class this hour and I'm interested in what you have to say about them."

"Hmph. Alright." She directed her attention toward the sixth years. "None of you have been raised by Muggles, so I can assume that you don't know their true nature. They are despicable creatures, barely even human. They have no culture whatsoever and they live like the wizards and witches of tens of thousands of years ago. Their technology is primitive. Their government is useless. They are the source of the problems in today's wizarding world." She flashed that creepy smile of hers and asked, "Any questions?"

"I have a question!" Ginny practically punched her hand into the air. "I've been taking Professor Burbage's classes for three years, and she always told us that Muggles had brilliant ways to deal with their lack of magic. She told us about their clever inventions like electricity, mobile phones, and the internet!" Color was slowly creeping up Alecto's face and a muscle jumped in her jaw. "And she said that throughout the world there are Muggle governments that run even smoother than the Ministry of Magic, like the monarchy of Monaco!"

"Miss Weasley I am ashamed that any daughter of a pure-blooded family would think to regurgitate the lies that Professor Charity Burbage dared to tell her. I realize that all of you have been taught shameful falsehoods, but that does not give you the right to contradict your Ministry appointed teacher. Do I make myself clear?"

"Well," Ginny snarled, "looking at what the last 'Ministry appointed' person did to us," she clenched her fist, showing the words "I must not disrespect," carved into her left hand, "I'm beginning to wonder whether or not they're able to be trusted."

"Miss Weasley! Are you challenging the discipline skills of the wonderful Dolores Umbridge?" Alecto's large, square face was slowly turning deep purple.

"She lied to us too, you know. But at least she didn't hide behind the title of 'professor.'"

"Detention, Miss Weasley." She smiled again, her teeth glinting like razors. "Please report to my brother's classroom this evening."

Esme, who had been taking notes this whole time, suddenly looked up, her brow furrowed. There was something in that smile that she definitely did not like.

--

"….but I guess she doesn't want the younger students to know about Azkaban right yet, so for now I'm in charge of sorting things," Sirius finished proudly.

"What does she have that you need to sort?"

"I dunno. How was your day?" Sirius stretched out on the bed next to his wife.

"It was alright. The upper-level Potions classes are tiny this year, what with so many Muggle borns gone. And I sat in on the sixth-year Muggle Studies class during one of my free periods."

"What was it like?"

"It's really bad, Siri. The Alecto woman is telling them all this crap about how Muggles are barely a step up from animals and how they're the cause of all of the wizarding world's problems."

"God. Really?"

"Yeah, and it doesn't so much bother me that she's telling it to the upper years; they already know better and have dozens of reasons not to trust anyone who's been appointed by the Ministry. What really bothers me is that most of the younger kids have never been around Muggles in their entire lives. They're going to hear all of the lies Alecto's feeding them and grow up believing that Muggles should be treated like slaves, and there's nothing we can do about it."

"You know, that's not true. What if we were to start our own underground Muggle Studies class?"

"Are you out of your mind?!" Esme hissed, sitting up straight. "That's so ridiculously dangerous! We could get fired! We could get sent to Azkaban! Do you want that? Hell, they might just kill us the moment they find out!" Suddenly she smiled. "Let's do it. But who's going to teach?" Sirius stared at her pointedly. "Me? Are you kidding? I was raised by the Malfoys, Siri. I don't know the first thing about Muggles."

He sighed, "You're right. And most of the professors here were raised in wizarding families."

"Except for him." Esme snarled. She was still unwilling to say Snape's name. It would not happen.

"True, but I doubt Snape would be willing to teach an illegal, underground Muggle Studies class. Hell, I doubt anyone who knows enough about the subject would be stupid enough to teach it." Esme smiled again, this time even wider. "What?"

"Didn't you take an OWL in Muggle Studies?"

He gasped, and then smiled back at her. "You're right! That was my highest mark!" He leapt off of the bed, "I can finally be useful!" he cheered. Esme smirked at him, but it melted away into a pout.

"We still don't know what to do about Snape," she said sadly. "There's got to be someway to take our revenge."

"Esmeralda I am surprised at you!" Sirius admonished, placing his hands on his hips out of mock anger. "You are the daughter of a Marauder, the wife of a Marauder, and Fred and George Weasley are your brothers. If anyone knows how to take revenge, it should be you."

"That's it!" she shrieked, jumping into the air, her face flushed with anticipation.

"What's it?"

"I'm going to pull a Weasley!"

--

A/N: Originally I was going to go with "Do a Weasley" which is the actual line in OotP, but somehow that just felt like too much of a double-entendre.

Sirius: Oh this will not go well…

Esme: Excuse me? When have my plans not gone awesomely?

Snape: That is true. However, may I discourage you from—?

Esme: Ah! You are not welcome here, mister. From here on out, you are banished from the mini-dialogues!

Snape: Fine. I'll just…spend my time with the giant squid!