Stolen Moments
As the students walked into the Advanced Potions class he was covering for Slughorn, they giggled. In all his years of teachings, he could honestly say this was new; not that they did not have cause to laugh. Against the ebony colour of his hair, his skin looked rather akin to a leathery tomato; with blotchy white spots over his nose.
Chamomile lotion.
"Something funny?" he drawled, looming over the familiar seventh year with a menacing scowl.
"No, Professor." Cho Chang replied, her accent crisp and riddled with repressed giggles.
"Professor?" Ginny Weasley raised her hand, which was not surprising.
"Miss Weasley," Snape growled, moving his chin marginally to indicate she could speak. "What happened to Professor Slughorn, he was supposed to be back by now."
"Perhaps your energy might be better spent preparing for your examination," he enunciated, narrowing his eyes at her, listening to the snickering around him. "Something amuses you, does it, Mr, Creevy. Please enlighten us."
"I was just wondering what happened to your eyebrows," Dennis said easily, realizing his mistake too late. "Professor."
Growling, he turned swiftly to the front of the classroom. "Mr. Creevy, might I suggest you leave such keen observations to your spelling." Some chuckles, but mostly fell silence once more.
Starting his lesson, the old rhythm came so easily, it was as if he had never stopped teaching potions. The same bumbling blockheads who had managed to get into the class with little to no talent. Slughorn must be softer than we think, he thought, brain addled with time.
Hearing giggles when they should have been brewing, he turned sharply to see the bright eyes glancing at him before turning back to her potion making with Weasley. No doubt the red haired witch knew all about the incident.
It had happened about a week previous when he had agreed to travel with Hermione to Romania. In hindsight not the smartest of choices, but aside from the missing eyebrows and third degree burn on his face, he couldn't really complain.
Much.
"Try to pay attention Ms. Weasley," he drawled, striding over with his robe billing out behind him. "It is never to late to fail a project, is it Ms. Granger?"
"Will you hold still." Hermione growled, avoiding the nasty glare he gave her as she added more lotion to the cloth; watching as he grimaced and groaned. "I am trying to help you."
"May I remind you, Ms Granger, that this whole episode began because you wanted to help." He snarled, touching his head, which was completely bald – and burnt. "Merlin preserve me."
"Oh it isn't that bad," she countered, dabbing his back gently. She had been so proud of him, suffering through teaching like nothing had happened. "Poppy said that the worst of it healed after you drank the potions, this." she tried to find the words. "Well, this is nothing more than a bad sunburn now. Peeling and itchy. I will soon have you put to right, I have to – since NEWT's are coming up soon." He raked in air, gripping the back of the chair firmly as she touched more of the liquid to his skin. "And I would like it known for the record, that this was in no way my fault. Charlie warned you not to get close to the mother when picking out the egg-"
"If the dragon had been properly spelled," he drawled fiercely, "-it would not have been a problem."
"You are just lucky that the only thing you lost was your hair." she chided, cracking a smile; knowing he couldn't see it. He said nothing more as she dabbed his skin. "At least you've kept your figure."
"What?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.
"I mean," she started, blushing now as she took a step back to look at the bald red skinned man who was now turning to stare at her; no eyebrows and all. Even the wig was sitting upon its stand. "You don't look half bad without hair."
He rolled his eyes, reaching out his hand to her with an uncharacteristic grin. "To think," he drawled, "They haven't seen the best of us yet."