A/N. Here's an all Snape chapter for you all! I must say, I love writing about Severus. Next chapter holds a visit from our beloved Chosen One! Thank you to those whom have put my story on alert, and reviewed. Enjoy!
I don't own the characters, J.K. Rowling does.
Snape was in the corridor waiting for his classroom to fill up. Yesterday he had Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first years, and today the other two houses would be in his class. He had his usual entrance prepared for today, he saw no point in deviating from tradition. He stepped from the shadow of the corridor when the last student walked into the classroom and shut the door. Making sure his robes were just right, he opened the door and swept in, the voices of the students inside quickly quieting. Most likely they had been warned by older students of his lack of tolerance.
"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class," he said fluidly as he walked towards his desk, robes swishing in an intimidating manner.. "As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potions making."
He turned briskly towards the students, a bored look on his face. "However," he said, his deep, mellifluous voice reaching the back of the classroom with no trouble, "for those select few who possess the correct...talents, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind, and ensnare the senses, I can tell you how to bottle, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death," he said the last word in a quiet voice, looking across the rows of enraptured young faces. If he hadn't been in front of students who needed to be intimidated, he would have smirked to himself. It never got old, watching his speech have the desired effect on new students.
"Now, I don't expect any of you to know anything about most of the things I will mention," he drawled, disgust etched on his face. "Lets hope you learn quickly."
He turned to the black board behind him. With a silent spell, words appeared on the board. Turning back towards the students, he looked down disdainfully. "On the board you will find instructions to make a Sleeping Draught. Can any of you tell me what this particular potion does to the drinker?"
A confident looking Gryffindor raised his hand. "Yes, Mr. Fintley?" he said curtly.
"Professor, the Sleeping Draught is used to put the drinker in a deep sleep almost instantaneously, sir" he said eagerly, expecting to get praised, no doubt.
"It's comforting to know at least some students take the time to read their books beforehand," Severus said in a snide tone. "But in essentials, yes. The Sleeping Draught is less powerful than other elixirs to induce sleep, namely the Draught of Living Death."
He looked across the students. "Today you will attempt to brew the Sleeping Draught, all though most, if not all, of you will not succeed. The ingredients are in the storeroom, and time starts now. You may begin."
Severus watched the students rush to jot down the ingredients on spare scraps of parchment, and then dash off to the class storeroom. He checked quickly to make sure he had the antidote, a simple potion designed to wake the drinker up immediately. The students returned to their seats, arms full of ingredients as the room was filled with the clamor of cauldrons being pulled out. Once the students had started on their potions, he stood up and started to walk around the classroom. Most the students made a passable start, and he was relieved. Maybe there wouldn't be any exploding cauldrons today. He walked towards the Gryffindors, he noticed a timid looking girl trying to crush her herbs in the mortar, but managing only to get her robes covered in half crushed lavender sprigs.
"Miss Jordan!" he barked. "What do you call that?" he asked sharply, pointing at the empty mortar and her covered robes.
"I...uh, sir I'm t-trying to crush the herbs and lavender?" she said hesitantly, looking up at him.
"Are you asking me, or telling me?" he sneered. He waved his wand, and vanished the mess she made. "Five points from Gryffindor, and next time you try to crush herbs you would be advised to used the pestle in a firm circular motion, and not slam it up and down like a child," he looked across the rows of students who paused to watch the exchange.
"If everyone is quite done eavesdropping, you may all get back to your cauldrons," he said with condescending air. Severus sighed inwardly, wishing at least one student would get the draught correct on the first try. He went back to his desk and sat down. "You have five more minutes to complete your potion," he spoke in a bored tone, and looked around with an expression of severe disinterest.
There was a rush as a few students tried to add a few last minute touches to their potions.
He stood up "Your time is up. Stop adding to your cauldrons. Your potion should have reached a pleasantly thick consistency by now," he said as he swept through the rows, looking at the contents of the cauldrons.
One Slytherin, by name of Addison Grendal, had succeeded in creating an almost perfect potion, but Severus could tell she had added a drop too much of flobberworm mucus. He gave her a nod, and the girl flushed, looking pleased. He moved on towards the Gryffindors, a distasteful expression on his face as he looked inside the cauldrons. All were merely passable, and none had the desired color. The last cauldron he looked in belong to the Jordan girl, and her potion was a thin purple, and emitted the distinct smell of wet dog.
"Miss Jordan," he said snidely. "Is this your idea of the Sleeping Draught?"
The girl was trying her best to sink in her seat. "Uh..y-yes sir," she said in a quaking voice.
"Did you read the words I posted on the board in front of you?" he asked, voice dripping with disgust.
"I b-believe I did, sir. I followed the instructions," she said.
"Did you now?" he said, lips curling into a sneer. "Please repeat step 12 for the class, Miss Jordan."
Miss Jordan strained to look around him and at the board. "Uh, it says to add four...valerian sprigs...sir," her face paled as she realized her mistake.
"Pray tell, Miss Jordan. How many sprigs did you add?"
She cowered even further, trying to melt into her chair. In a small voice she replied "I only added two, sir."
The Slytherins didn't even bother trying to hide their snickers.
Severus's look of contempt deepened. "Only two. I see. Another five points from Gryffindor, I think," he said softly. He vanished her potion, and added "and zero marks. For homework I expect two feet on the properties of valerian sprigs and their use in the Sleeping Draught," he turned and swept towards his desk, waving his wand and opening the classroom doors. "Class dismissed."
He watched as the students hastily packed up and rushed to exit the room. After they left he sat down in his chair wearily, and waited for the next class to arrive. He didn't expect the first years to do any better than they did, but it was still tiring to have to repeat the same motions every class. He knew that most of the students didn't pay any attention to Potions, they viewed it as one of those subjects that wasn't needed for life. How wrong they were, Snape sneered to himself. It was a vital skill to have, to be able to brew a quick healing potion could mean the matter of life or death. He stood up as he heard the sounds of approaching students. Here it goes again, he thought wearily to himself.
~o0o0o~
Severus hovered in a shadowy corner on the third floor, as he observed Granger cleaning up her classroom. He had decided to come and watch her teach, and see if she were any good. He arrived too late, though, as the last of her students were streaming out into the halls. He remained though, and watched the short, bushy haired witch busy herself with cleaning. He found himself oddly captivated by the way her hair bounced with each step, as though it had a life of its own. He scoffed, she was hailed as one of the most brilliant witches of her age, but couldn't be bothered to learn a simple hair-taming spell?
His black eyes glittered as he continued to watch, noting how she did many things she could have accomplished quite easily with magic by hand. He wondered at that, but chalked it up to her muggle heritage. Some things were hard to let go of, he knew. He often enjoyed doing something without magic for the nostalgic reasons. He frowned as he briefly recalled his childhood, filled with angry shouts from his muggle father, the constant stream of liquor that Tobias Snape ingested. He remembered when his mother ran off, and how he wanted to go with her, but she told him to stay. That she would be back soon. She never came home, and Tobias had taken out his rage on Severus.
He shook himself. That was decades ago, there was no point in reliving the horrors of his past now. He shrank back into the shadows as Granger walked out, and headed down the hall. Watching her round the corner, he emerged and started off for the dungeons. He had the newest edition of Potions Weekly to read. He hid when he saw the headmistress walking towards the Great Hall. He had no desire to be forced to partake in dinner at the staff table, he was in an irate mood and the company of others would only serve to worsen it. After Minerva had passed, he continued on his way. His mood improved slightly when he entered his quarters, and found he still had half a decanter full of Odgen's Old Firewhiskey. That would certainly help him fall asleep, he mused. He filled a glass, and summoned his potions magazine. Settling down on the couch, he started to read.