Staffing Issues
0o0o0o
On Monday morning there was panic in the staff room.
"What do you mean, you can't cover Potions?" Professor McGonagall berated Professor Flitwick.
"This student needs extra tutoring and I don't have any other period free," Flitwick replied defensively. "I'm sorry Minerva, but I simply can't do it–"
"The fifth years can't go without their lesson!" McGonagall interrupted. "Oh, what will we do? Severus will have a fit!"
Professor Sprout was quietly marking in the corner, but now she spoke up: "Perhaps Albus can take the fifth year class? What is his schedule this morning, Neasa?"
"He's in a meeting with parents," Neasa said.
McGonagall sighed deeply. "Well someone needs to take this double period. Poppy?"
"She's with an injured Quidditch player," Neasa said.
"Dolores?"
"Severus would never let her within a mile of his class," Flitwick said.
McGonagall shuffled some papers in her hands, and then looked carefully at Neasa and said quietly, "I wonder if you could…?"
"Me?" Neasa asked. "I don't know the first thing about teaching Potions."
"Look, it's all in Severus's class notes," McGonagall said, bustling over. "He was planning on having them brew a Strengthening Solution today – clearly that'll have to wait until next week."
She pushed the notes into Neasa's hands and began leading her to the door.
"It'll be easy – just get them to read a few pages from their books and write an essay or something…"
It was five minutes to the hour and McGonagall hurried Neasa to the Potions classroom, all the while giving her a crash course in basic teaching methods, and then abandoned her in the empty room for a Transfiguration lesson. Neasa could already hear the fifth years lining up in the corridor outside, and when she stepped out the door a hushed, apprehensive silence fell over all of them. They were Gryffindors and Slytherins – no one had even bothered to mention that to her.
Neasa cleared her throat and said, "Inside, if you would."
She waited by Snape's desk as the students filed in, reading the class notes he'd prepared.
When everyone was seated, a Slytherin asked, "Where's Professor Snape?"
Neasa glanced up; Draco Malfoy had spoken.
"Professor Snape is unable to teach today and no other teacher was available to take you," she said. As she spoke she felt a chill in the room, and noticed that most of the class wore their black outdoor cloaks because of the cold in the dungeons.
She pointed her wand at the fireplace and a fire sprang to life. A read-haired boy in the front row remarked, "I've never seen that fire being lit."
Then she put down the class notes, folded her arms and said: "I have not asked you to prepare your cauldrons and weighing scales because–"
She was interrupted by a bushy-haired Gryffindor raising her hand.
"Miss Casey, Professor Snape always begins by taking our homework and calling the register," the girl said.
"Thank you, Miss…?"
"Hermione Granger, Miss."
"Alright, then – please hand up your homework to the person in front and I'll collect them from the front row," Neasa said. As she waited she called out the register, and when she finished the homework was piled up on the front row desks for her collection.
One of the students at the last Gryffindor desk she recognised as Harry Potter – and as he handed her a pile of parchment she remarked, "The Professor gives you rather a lot of homework, doesn't he?"
"Hermione might say it isn't enough," Harry said quietly.
"I'll tell the Professor that."
Harry looked briefly alarmed, but Neasa smiled and said, "I'm joking, Potter."
She left the homework on Snape's desk; the moment she turned back a knock came from the door, and Professor Umbridge opened it. As usual she took the pink too far.
"Professor – how may I help you?" Neasa asked politely.
In her hands Umbridge held a clipboard and quill, and she cast a searching look over the class and asked, "Where is Professor Snape?"
"He's unable to teach this morning."
"I see – I had said to him I would be inspecting his class today – what an unfortunate time to be unwell," Umbridge replied. "Nevermind – I'll reschedule."
She paused, and then frowned and asked, "Are you a qualified Professor, Miss Casey?"
"I'm only standing in for Professor Snape – there was no other teacher available."
"So Hogwarts has put an unqualified secretary in charge of a fifth year Potions class?"
Neasa bit her tongue. "I will be teaching them exactly what Professor Snape planned for this lesson," she said. My apologies that he didn't choose a more suitable time to fall ill, she thought.
Umbridge raised an eyebrow and asked, "Has the Professor said this is okay?"
"He's not to be disturbed," Neasa said.
"Very well," Umbridge replied, and made a note on her clipboard. She tore off the parchment and gave it to Neasa. "Ask the matron to give this to him," she said, "and wish him well."
"I will," Neasa replied, knowing she would only do one of those things.
The other woman left, and Neasa pocketed the note, then turned back to the class.
"Professor Snape had planned to have you all brew a Strengthening Solution this morning, but I'd rather leave the practical lesson to him to supervise – so please turn to the relevant chapter and begin reading it," she said. "Once you've finished, write four inches to summarise. Once that is done, you may leave early."
The class worked quietly, and Neasa took a seat at Snape's desk, deciding to read through the collected homework to pass the time. She was only interrupted when a student needed a spare quill or had a question – the class began to empty after about half an hour, and the homework pile grew with the extra essays.
At last only five students remained – Draco, two of his Slytherin friends who accompanied him everywhere – predictably, Hermione – and Harry. When the three Slytherins left, giving Neasa their parchment on the way out, only Harry and Hermione were left behind.
Harry approached the desk first, taking his time, and left the parchment on the top of the pile. Instead of leaving he said, "Miss Casey, I wanted to ask… Where is Professor Dumbledore?"
"Do you want to speak with him?" Neasa replied.
Harry glanced at Hermione, who gave him a significant look, as if egging him on, and then shook his head. "No, I only wondered where he is."
"He's very busy," Neasa said, trying to sound sincere. "He's mostly in the office – but he does travel occasionally."
"You don't know where?"
"I don't," she said truthfully.
"What about Hagrid? – Professor Hagrid, I mean – he used to teach Care of Magical Creatures."
"I can't answer that, Potter," she said.
Harry and Hermione shared a look of disappointment.
"I am sorry I can't be of more help," Neasa added. "But don't hesitate to reach out to me if you need anything."
0o0o0o
On Wednesday evening Neasa knocked on the door of Snape's room and walked in to wish him goodnight. He was asleep already, his hand still holding a book open on the pillow, with an empty plate of dinner on the cabinet. He had improved somewhat since his fainting spell, but he wasn't in a state to leave his rooms just yet; standing up for too long still made him feel very dizzy.
Neasa vanished the plate and took the book out of his hands – The Hound of the Baskervilles. She reached for the bookmark in the front cover, and spotted an inscription next to it. She tilted the book towards the candlelight and read,
For Neasa,
I wanted you to have my copy of this, my favourite Holmes story, as a thank you for being so kind to me and caring for me when I was unwell.
Severus
With a smile on her lips she sat on the edge of the bed, reading Snape's words over and over again until they were committed to memory. She glanced at him, watching his steady breathing.
His right arm lay over his stomach, his hand limp on the duvet. Neasa stared at it for a long minute, before slowly reaching out and holding it, gently so as not to waken him.
His skin was cold, which was unsurprising – his fingers were quite slender and his knuckles pronounced, and Neasa traced her thumb over them now, still smiling to herself over the book.
In that moment a soft cough came from the door and Neasa jumped a little, looking up. Dumbledore stood in the open doorway, a smile on his face – and he said quietly, "I just wanted to check on Severus."
"He's asleep," Neasa replied. "I came to say goodnight."
Dumbledore's eyes fell on Neasa's hand, still holding Snape's, and he said, "I'll leave you two alone, then."
"We're not– I'm not–"
"It's alright, Neasa," he held up his palm, and now he was smiling again, "it's fine. Goodnight."
Neasa cast her eyes back to Snape, afraid that he had woken up, but he remained steadfastly asleep.
How could one person captivate Neasa's attention so? At the end of the day, Snape was just a man – but that was wrong – he was more than that. He was entrancing. Fascinating. At first, cold and aloof – perhaps a bit rude, even – but oh, how satisfying it was to peel back the layers of his personality and discover a true connection underneath. Neasa loved deconstructing people, understanding what made them tick.
Neasa was falling in love with Snape. This much was now clear to herself – and probably to Dumbledore, let alone the other staff members. But she struggled with it – she was not here to find romance: she had done all she could to keep romantic attachments at bay her entire adult life, but she did not have the strength to keep Snape away. She was a painfully logical, rational thinker – perhaps to a fault – and she had never found a man who truly appreciated the way she viewed the world. Snape, on the other hand, was different. Snape understood her. Ultimately, isn't that what everyone wants?
0o0o0o
Neasa joined Snape for dinner on Thursday night.
Now Neasa sat facing the window at the dinner table, Snape to her left – they were both eating potato pie and drinking tea. Neasa was reading from The Hound of the Baskervilles, which Snape had gifted to her that morning, while Snape peered over a newspaper.
"How's the book?" he asked.
"Just as I remember – thanks again for giving it to me–"
"Don't mention it," he said, with a smile. Neasa returned it, and held his gaze for a moment longer before he looked away.
She continued to watch him: the way his brow furrowed at what he was reading, and a moment later his mouth turned up and he gave a tiny shake of his head. His hair fell easily on his shoulders, brushing the white collar of his shirt, the tips flicking upwards. A tuft fell in front of his eyes; he tucked it behind his ear.
Yes, Snape was a cold man, but up close he was so human. He chewed his lip, ran his fingers through his hair, fiddled with his cuffs, twiddled his thumbs just like everyone else – he had dropped his facade around her.
"Miss Casey," he said then, not looking up, "I can't focus if you're still looking at me."
"I– I wasn't–"
"It's alright," he said, and a smirk tugged on his lips. Neasa looked out the window.
Snape's gaze followed hers outside, where the sun was setting; the skies were bright red and yellow, and a large flock of birds flew past in that moment, silhouetted against the vibrant colours.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Neasa asked lightly.
"Beautiful," Snape said, and smiled at her. Neasa closed her book, leaving her hand resting on the cover and returning to her food.
She and Snape sat in silence for a minute, the only sounds to be heard coming from the rustling of newspaper, the crackling of the fire, and the birdsong from outside.
As Neasa took a sip of hot tea she felt Snape brushing his fingers against the back of her hand. She looked over, and he was still reading; he even nonchalantly turned a page, then he wrapped his hand around hers, holding it gently on the book. His thumb traced over her knuckles.
Neasa's heart was racing, and she gave his hand a squeeze, quite at loss for anything else to do. It felt wildly different from holding his hand the previous night, when he'd been asleep and completely unaware – now he was so warm, and she savoured the feeling, not knowing when he would pull away.
"Professor–" she began, and he looked at her. She had no words left after that.
"It's alright to call me Severus," he said, with a soft smile.