Chapter Five - Judgement
Alana spun on her heels as the dungeon door opened a Professor Snape walked in. Monday had come and no amount of wishing could have stopped that. And here he was, set face, ready with a book and a quill, and no doubt a mind eager to pick out all her faults and failings as a professor. She'd vowed to be more confident, and she was on the surface but he still had that irritating knack of making her insides feel like a washer dryer. He could potentially paint a black mark against her name if he saw fit to, and truth be told, she couldn't deduce which way he was going to go. He had always been unpredictable.
"Professor," she said cheerfully, straightening the cuffs of her robes. "Good morning."
"Good morning," he said blankly, glancing around the room - which she had already prepared for the lesson. He cleared his throat. "Let me explain how this will work. I will observe your lesson from the back with very little imput, though I may take a random sample of opinions from students. You're not permitted to acknowledge me, or draw me into a discussion, apart from to make the students aware as to why I'm here - do you understand?"
"Perfectly," she replied, a little stunned.
"Very well," he sniffed, storming to the back of the room, producing a chair for him to sit on. "Your first years should be here any moment if I'm not mistaken."
Alana blinked and stared at him as he opened his journal and began to write. Merlin, she thought with some exasperation, he's writing something already. "Professor?" she said folding her arms. He glanced up looking a little disgruntled that she'd spoken.
"What is it Professor Cross?"
"This report...you will be -"
Her sentence was disturbed by her students filtering into the room noisily. It didn't take long for them to notice another presence besides their usual teacher and the animated chatters descended into a curious silence as they sat down. "Morning class," Alana began with a smile, having recovered from the frosty interaction with Snape. "You've probably noticed we have a visitor today. Professor Snape's just here to make sure I'm doing my job properly, so don't feel nervous - he may ask some of you some questions, but they're nothing to worry about."
Severus watched the shoulders of most of the students relax as she spoke; her voice appeared to have a soothing effect on them. But as she smiled, he had to wonder whether she was reassuring them, or herself.
"Last week we talked about classifying potions and testing them," she began. "Of course it's important to test each potion, even if you've made it a hundred times before, but how? What are we looking for?" She threw the question out to the class and immediately, hands shot up across the room.
"Jenson?"
"Viscosity, Professor."
"Meaning?" Alana queried further.
The petit blonde girl paused. "Meaning how thick it is - like not too runny?"
"Good - five points - you don't want your Sleeping Draught to be like treacle. Anybody else?" She pointed at someone.
"Um, colour?" offered a Hufflepuff who had red hair to match a Weasley. Perhaps it was a Weasley, Snape thought, considering the expanse of the family.
"Yes...another five points. Colour is very important," she explained with a slight smirk." Snape's mind cast back to a particular potion she'd made under his tutorage that was completely the wrong colour, because she'd not followed the instructions, mostly because of her temper. Was she thinking about that too, he had to wonder as he watched the smile cross her face. "What about you Ollie?" she asked a pudgy boy who was just listening while everyone else was taking notes.
"I don't know Professor," he shrugged.
"Oh come on," Alana smiled, leaning against her desk. "You got full marks on your essay so I know you know it."
The boy's cheeks flushed with pride. "Consistency? Maybe?"
"Excellent - five points to you as well. Viscosity, storage temperature, opacity, colour, consistency, taste, smell and toxicity," she said, pacing and ticking them off on her fingers as she reeled them off. "These are the eight categories when testing and classifying potions and you need to remember them. Today each of you is going to brew a potion, and use those categories to classify...and identify...what I've given you. Kind of like a potion's whodunit," she said wryly, earning a laugh from the class. "But here's the hitch - you've all got something different...so you can't cheat Porthos," she added, cocking an eyebrow at the Malfoy boy who had been looking fairly smug until she said that. "You have to work these out for yourselves and present your findings to each other in small groups. Of course there are points galore for whoever manages to complete the task successfully," she shrugged as if it were no skin off her nose should they get it right or not, "but I'm not going to give out points for anything less than one hundred percent accurate, so really think it through."
The class murmured amongst themselves and started to prepare themselves for making; Snape watched as the girls tied their hair back and the boys passed oak handled knives around. The whole picture was distinctly Alana Cross, he noted, scribbling down some of his thoughts as he had been the whole time she was talking.
She was moving around each table now, swiftly checking they each had what they needed. "Everything's set out for you – if you need help, raise your hand...Edmund, what's the rule about eating in here...thank you...your hour starts now." She flicked her wand and an egg timer at the front of the room turned upon her desk.
Alana took a deep breath as she continued to walk around watching over them; she felt as if she was doing well, but of course that was no indication. She'd resolved not to make any sort of unusual fuss for Snape – just to simply teach her class as she would if he were not in the room. She'd been planning this exercise anyway, and in her limited experience it was something students enjoyed – the chance to think for themselves and have a little independence. Plus, all children liked a bit of healthy competition and praise and points were a big incentive to do well. She'd seen Snape write something out of the corner of her eye as she'd given Ollie five points and it had made her swallow hard. Surely he couldn't pick her up for something like that?
She watched him hovering beside a girl called Fiona – a Slytherin who seemed to be sailing quite nicely as she prepared her potion – asking her questions in a low voice. This was Severus Snape – of course he would, she realised with a sigh.
XXXXXX
"Well," Alana breathed as the last of the cauldrons were magically cleaned away and the students sat on the stools with their books in their arms ready to leave. "I guess its homework time..." Even she couldn't contain the groan from the students. "Write up a detailed essay on your particular potion, focusing on the eight classification categories. One and a half scrolls, minimum," she said, as their faces fell. "For next Monday. I think that's pretty fair. You're dismissed."
The sound of scraping chairs filled the room and they all began to giggle and chatter before they were out of the door, most of them saying goodbye as they passed. Alana smiled at them all gratefully – after all, none of them had toed out of line for the whole two hours. "Great work today Ollie," she said quietly as the chubby boy walked by. He was really quick good at Potions but his confidence stopped him from being as bold as he could be during class. "You figured out your task pretty quick."
"As soon as I smelt it, I knew it had to be the Sneezing Potion," he replied awkwardly, as if he were embarrassed for doing so well.
"See you next lesson," she said, waving him on.
She exhaled a deep breath as the door shut and glanced over, hands on hips, to see Severus still writing in his book. He was frowning, but she couldn't read his expression at all.
"So...how'd I do?" she asked carefully, treading the water.
"I'm not at liberty to discuss it with you at this time," he replied without looking up.
"Ah, right. Of course," Alana said nodding. "Regulations. Well, just let me know...when you can..."
"Of course," Snape interrupted, rising and for the first time she saw that he was wearing an amused smirk – one that didn't at all make her comfortable about the outcome of her report. "I wouldn't keep you waiting any longer than necessary." And with that, he swept out of her classroom, leaving her stunned and with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
XXXXXX
"Urgh – it was awful, just awful," Chester cried after dinner that evening, as he, Alana, Jenea and the Charms teacher (who Alana now knew was called Ruth) all left the Great Hall. "It was all going so well, until one of the little twerps decided to transfigure his teapot into something that could bite for Pete's sake. How he managed it when he usually can't tell which up a wand goes, I'll never know. A wasted lesson, and an actual trip to the hospital wing," he groaned, yanking off his spectacles. "And I got marked down further for swearing at them. McGonagall said she couldn't justify it, even in the circumstances."
"Mine went well," Jenea sighed contentedly. "Surprisingly so, considering I had Gryffindors and Slytherins. I figured we couldn't go wrong with a lesson on healing plants; if anyone decided to skewer someone else with the shears, we'd have everything we needed right there." She grinned. "Sprout was pleased anyway."
"I had a bit of trouble controlling the class," Ruth admitted. "But the students were nice when Flitwick interviewed them. He said I just needed to toughen up a bit."
"Hang on, just a tick," Alana said, laughing slightly but halting in her tracks with a frown. They all turned to look at her. "How do you guys know how you did?"
"Our supervisors gave us a break down after the lesson. They were supposed to." Ruth said, matching her frown. "How do you not know how you did?"
"He didn't tell me! Professor Snape told me that he wasn't at liberty to discuss it with me at..." Alana trailed off and closed her eyes, muttering a cuss word under her breath. "That man!"
Jenea let out a low whistle and pushed her round glasses up her nose. "What are you gonna do?"
"March over there and give him a piece of my mind," Alana hissed as she pushed past them and stormed to the dungeons. It wasn't the first time she'd wanted to kill Snape, and she doubted it'd be the last.