Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
"Albus," an irate Minerva McGonagall said in the special tone of voice she reserved for when he was being 'particularly knuckle headed' as she so delicately put it. As the years passed, she seemed to use it more and more; he sincerely doubted it had anything to do with the increasing amount of eccentric solutions he came up with.
However, she sounded particularly irate this time, and he didn't know whether to keep going (no, it was not running away) or to stop and see what she wanted.
Like any sensible Wizard with Minerva McGonagall out for their blood, he kept going.
That was a mistake.
"Albess!"
He came to a stop, feigning a surprised expression as he turned to face her, only to flinch at just how angry she looked.
He quickly schooled his features into a pleasant smile, in an attempt to placate the inevitable tempest that would slam into him for ignoring her. Minerva was a formidable Witch - she need only to look down at you over her glasses to instill the fear of Morgan Le Fay into you.
Good thing Albus was taller than her.
"Minerva, how can I help you?" He asked, folding his hands in front of him, ignoring the tickling of his silver-auburn beard on his hands. He was growing it out. It wasn't quite long enough to tuck in his belt, but it would get there.
"Dinnae tell me ye gave Potter th' Heid Boy badge," she fired off, coming to a halt before him, eyes blazing, hands on her hips.
Oh dear, he mused, her accent is flaring.
Albus's smile widened marginally at the thought; Horace and Poppy had an ongoing bet to see how long he could go without causing Minerva to yell at him in Scots – nine days this time. I suppose Poppy wins again, Horace will have a fit. That's thrice in a row she's won!
"I was just on my way to send it to him, in fact."
Her eyes fluttered shut, seeming to be praying for strength – probably to refrain from strangling him – before they snapped open, blazing.
"He'd abuse th' power 'n' ye know it! Lupin or Snape wid be better suited fur th' part 'n' ye know that tae! Snape - bless him - is th' top o' his year 'n' ye wouldnae be able tae find a kinder soul than Lupin! Potter is neither! He 'n' Black hae bin in 'n' oot o' detentions sin thay got 'ere, tormenting one student or another - usually Severus! 'n' that's whit ye want tae set an example fur th' whole school?!"
If it were anyone else, a patronizing smile would have wormed its way on to his face, and he would've reached out to give them a pat on the shoulder. But he rather liked having all of his body parts where they belonged, thank you very much, so he kept his hands where they were. "I believe this will help him grow—"
"Och shut up ye auld goat!" Minerva shouted sharply, rather satisfied with the click of Albus's teeth as he snapped his mouth shut. "Potter is in mah Hoose, Ah hae bin teaching him his best subject fur th' bygane six years 'n' ah kin tell ye richt noo that kind o' power wid go tae his bloody heid! As Deputy Headmistress, Ah kin revoke his title o' Heid Boy 'n' gie it tae someone obviously mair deserving!" She leveled him with one of her more terrifying glares and growled, "Dinnae test me awn thi' Albus."
Godric's foot, she was serious!
The amusement draining out of him, he licked his lips and started, "Minerva, see reason – do not interrupt! – Mr. Snape is not eligible for the position, as he has been in detention just the same if not more than Mr. Potter has. And as for Mr. Lupin, I do not wish to add more to his already overflowing plate."
What little he said apparently did not satisfy her. She was evidently too angry to even speak, for it was a glare that persuaded him to further explain his reasoning.
He cleared his throat. "To be a Head student, one must have top grades and be a good and kind person. Mr. Snape undoubtedly meets the first requirement, but alas, not the second. I fear he would bite the First Year's heads off at their knees if they so much as looked at him. And as I said before, I believe that making Mr. Lupin Head Boy would be asking too much of him – being a Prefect is all I have the heart to ask of him to do on top of his school work and his condition." He looked down at his Deputy Headmistress over his glasses and said solemnly, "Mr. Potter is the best choice here."
"Gie Snape a chance," Minerva countered. "I dinnae think that there is hope for Potter being responsible, but Snape could dae it, especially if I were tae sit him doon and tell him a few things. You know he would dae better than Prankster Potter."
Albus did know that Mr. Snape was a better fit than Mr. Potter, and Mr. Lupin better than the both of them.
However, he really didn't want to put more pressure on the young werewolf, and Mr. Snape… he feared Mr. Snape was falling for darker tendencies. That was not the role model he wanted for his students.
He let out a weary sigh, shoulders stooping with it and his eyes falling flat. "Minerva, my dear, I shall be frank with you. Mr. Snape is not who I wish our younger students to be looking up to. I would give a Slytherin Head Student status if I did not feel that they all belong to Tom – and I am afraid I do. This has happened because of my meddling, after all."
He let out another weary sigh, completely unable to meet Minerva's piercing and accusatory gaze. The heat of her raging magic pushing against him spoke volumes as to how angry the Scotswoman was. She hardly ever lost her iron hold on her composure enough for her magic to flare.
"Tom is looking for the extraordinary to join him, especially those from his former house. In an attempt to lessen the number of extraordinary students from Slytherin, I have foolishly denied them the opportunities readily available to the rest of the school.
"But they are unlike Gryffindors, who would not have even noticed they were being suppressed, Hufflepuffs, who would have taken it in stride and would have congratulated those who got their rightful positions, or Ravenclaws, who would have undoubtedly petitioned until I lifted the restrictions.
"I had forgotten that they are the House of Ambition and Cunning, and therein lies my failings. They found other ways to shine, and became more extraordinary than they would have if I had given them their due recognition. I inadvertently aided Tom while I was trying to hinder his progress.
"Since realizing this, I've been keeping close tabs on the Slytherin students, looking for an opening I might be able to take to… persuade them to the Light, but I could see none that wouldn't end up placing them in perilous situations. The first years would be unable to defend themselves against the older years, the vast majority of which are already firmly enthralled by the Dark. If I were to interfere now, I may cause the death of a student, Minerva, or end up pushing several who are on the fence over it to Tom forever – Mr. Snape being one of the latter. I know he is a bitter, angry boy, but I… I hope that there is still some good within him. I dread what the future may hold for him. He is the brightest student Hogwarts has nurtured in many years, and I truly believe that making him Head Boy would only cement his place in Tom's ranks, if it hasn't already been." He closed his eyes in pain, not seeing Minerva deflate. He hardly noticed her hostile magic receding.
"In my crusade to save them from a life of servitude under Tom, I have made what was a noble and proud house into one filled with bitter and resentful students, all of whom hate me and the rest of the school. They are eager for the attention they are worthy of, and Tom is only too happy to give it… I am playing a dangerous game, Minerva, and wounding my students in the process."
"I… I understand, Albus." The Headmaster's eyes flew open in shock, meeting her hard green ones. "I cannae say tha' I agree wi' yer methods," she said sternly before softening one more. "But, I understand. I won't revoke Potter's badge should ye give it tae him. I will sit him doon and have a talk wi' him. Tell him what's expected."
Albus's eyes were twinkling again, "I would expect nothing less of you, Minerva."
{Furius Draconis}
Things were quiet in the days leading up to the arrival of Severus's Hogwarts letter. Narcissa had sent him a request to accompany her to Diagon Alley the moment their letters arrived to get their things, as Malfoy was tied up at the Ministry.
He had, of course, agreed; he would have suggested it himself, but she beat him to it. So now he was waiting for the ruddy owl to come fluttering up to his window. They were usually delivered about now, en masse he assumed. He and Lily would always rush to the park as soon as they got their letter without planning it beforehand. They hadn't since Fifth year, though, and Severus was fine with that.
He was lying in bed, reading The Hobbit while his beat-up record player softly played a compilation of his favorite songs by Johnny Cash – he made that record for himself, with the assistance of magic of course. Severus had little patience for Wizarding music; it was too loud for his taste, and was almost always focused on frivolous matters such as how one might convince a hinkypunk to do an Irish jig. Muggles had many more genres of music, and were quite frankly better at composing pieces that had the ability to speak directly to the soul.
Music was its own kind of magic, in Severus's opinion, with its ability to elicit a wide range of emotions – lift one's spirits or send one crashing down deep into depression, embolden the heart or leave one utterly terrified. Most other wizards failed to grasp that, but he suspected that the Merpeople were of the same opinion as him. He often heard their haunting melodies from the Slytherin Common Room, and knew others had as well, if the mildly distraught looks on their faces were anything to go by.
Severus was forced to pull himself from Bilbo's adventures when he heard a tapping on his window. His eyes snapped up to see that it was an owl with a letter tied to its foot; undoubtedly his Hogwarts letter. Even though its arrival meant he could now spend the day with Narcissa, he was still annoyed at being interrupted in the middle of a particularly good part of his book, never mind his low tolerance for owls, the little demons. He wished the Wizarding World would figure out a better way to send letters; maybe he could create a spell for that? He stored the thought away for later as he rose to let the owl in.
It hopped in and would hardly sit still long enough for Severus to get his letter from it, much to his exasperation. When he finally did get his letter from it, another ruddy owl flew in. He glared at it as it settled in next to the overexcited Hogwarts owl, and it glared back. He moved to snatch the letter from its beak, which led to his finger being nipped – rather hard too – and with a snarled wind charm both birds were thrown squawking from his room. He hated owls.
Severus sat down heavily at his desk, nursing his bleeding finger as he tore into the first letter, which was indeed from Hogwarts. It was the usual supply list of items he'd need for the approaching year, as well as his Prefects badge that he didn't pay much attention to. He knew the second paper would be the standard congratulatory letter on making Slytherin Prefect from his Head of House as well as expectations, so he set it aside to look at the other letter he had been delivered.
It was an expensive and heavy cut of parchment that made up the envelope. Turning it over, Severus read the neatly printed return address: E. M. L. Potions Company! Curiously, he tore into the thick parchment and read its contents, growing more excited with each sentence.
Severus T. F. D. V. Snape
Number 6, Spinner's End
Cokeworth, Northamptonshire
Mr. Snape,
On behalf of E. M. L. Potions Company, I am pleased to extend you this offer of apprenticeship, reporting to the Research Department. If you accept this offer, you will begin your apprenticeship with E. M. L. when Fall Term begins at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I understand your schedule will be extremely heavy this year, as you prepare for your Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, and we are willing to create a schedule to fit you and your studies – perhaps once a month?
As an apprentice you will not receive any of the employee benefits that employees receive, including, but not limited to, health insurance, vacation or sick pay, paid holidays, or participation in the retirement plan offered by E. M. L.
Your apprenticeship is expected to end upon the Head Potion-Brewers agreement that you have met E. M. L.'s expectations of Potioneers. However, the apprenticeship is "at-will," which means that either you or the company may terminate your apprenticeship at any time, with or without cause and with or without notice.
During your apprenticeship, you may have access to trade secrets and confidential business information belonging to E. M. L. By accepting this offer of employment, you acknowledge that you must keep all of this information strictly confidential, and refrain from using it for your own purposes or from disclosing it to anyone outside the E. M. L. In addition, you agree that, upon conclusion of your employment, you will immediately return to the E. M. L. all of its property, equipment, and documents, including pensive stored information.
Please send your reply post haste. We eagerly await your decision.
Potioneer Zeus E. Derby
Hogwarts, Hufflepuff Alumni
Head Potion-Brewer; Research Department: E. M. L. Potions Co.
Recipient of the Merlin's Potioneers Award 1958, 1960, 1961
He couldn't believe it. The most prestigious potions company in Europe wanted to apprentice him? Poor Sniveling Severus too-many-bloody-names Snape? He hadn't even taken his N.E.W.T.'s yet! And they willing to work around his schedule?! Salazar's Tongue, this was a big opportunity, the likes of which would surely never fall into his lap again for as long as he lived. He felt as if his very bones were vibrating with excitement – something that he hadn't experienced in years. He shot up from his chair, intending to go meet Narcissa to share this brilliant news with her when it hit him.
He was no longer his own man.
He would need to speak to the Dark Lord and ask for his approval before responding to the offer. He had also promised every one of his Hogsmeade weekends to the Dark Lord, which were once (sometimes twice) a month starting in October. Would he be able to meet with the representative one weekend of each month? Did he need Dumbledore's approval to start an apprenticeship as a student?
Sinking back into his chair he let out a groan and dropped his head into his hands. He had forgotten about Dumbledore. He would bet his Moontrimmer that the moment he stepped foot on Hogwarts Grounds the Headmaster would know that he was in league with the Dark Lord. He would further bet his best pair of boots and wand holster that the Headmaster would be fully aware of how he would be spending all of his Hogsmeade weekends.
Despite the slightly barmy grandfather persona the headmaster projected, he knew him to be far from ignorant – the old codger was aware of everything that went on in his castle. Severus wouldn't be surprised if he was called up to the Headmaster's office as soon as term started for a conversation that would be pure doublespeak. He couldn't wait.
He let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose – this had been such a lovely day up until now. He probably wouldn't be able to be apprenticed to E. M. L. Potions Co. seeing as how the Dark Lord undoubtedly came first. Truthfully, he was deeply flattered that the Dark Lord had taken such an interest in him, but he didn't want the attention and the expectations that came with it. This was his N.E.W.T.s year, and being Prefect on top of the workload that was sure to rival Mt. Everest in height would only be made harder by giving up his Hogsmeade weekends to the Dark Lord – he couldn't reasonably give up yet another weekend and maintain his status as top student academically.
However, there was no way of knowing what the Dark Lord would do to him if he acted either way on this proposal without first consulting him. If he had to venture a guess, it would be that the Dark Lord would have him accept the apprenticeship – he would undoubtedly learn so much just being around the Potioneers of E. M. L. which he could in turn apply to potions that the Dark Lord wanted.
Merlin, the team is going to kill me, he thought with a sigh, but they really were the least of his worries now.
He stood from his desk, pushing the situation from his mind, and grabbed the letters he received; Narcissa was probably already waiting for him.
{Furius Draconis}
Narcissa was indeed waiting on Severus, in The White Wyvern. Not many frequented the pub given its location in Knockturn Alley, but that small fact never bothered her. It was a cozy little place done simply but exquisitely. In other words, it was… perfect.
She was tucked away in a corner with a cup of jasmine tea and a small but thick book that covered the topic of Animagus forms and what they might tell you about a person. Severus, for some reason, was hell bent on becoming one despite it being a difficult and extremely dangerous feat that few Magicians bothered with. She wondered what he might end up being – she had no doubt that he would accomplish it, he was too bloody stubborn not to.
Perhaps a large cat of some kind?
The fireplace whooshed green and her ridiculously tall and skinny friend stepped out of the flames with a ramrod straight back. She watched as his hand ghosted down the front of his robes, erasing all traces of soot. Wandless and silent casting?! She hardly registered that he had spotted her and was walking towards her with that fluid gait of his; she was far too flabbergasted at his nonchalant display of superior magic. No wonder he was one of the Dark Lord's Chosen – the Dominus of his Knights of Walpurgis.
It wasn't until he was seated in front of her that she snapped out of her thoughts. She closed her book and placed it on the table before her. She noticed the slightly puckered look he had on his face, and asked in a voice laden with amusement, "My dear Severus, is that leaf still in your mouth? How long must you keep it in?"
He fixed her with a droll look before answering with a curled lip, "Of course. It has been but a week, and I must hold it in until the next full moon. Naturally, I shall obliterate the very next Mandrake I see."
Narcissa only just managed to withhold her laughter. Her eyes were twinkling with mirth as she said, "You don't have to become an Animagus, you know."
He scoffed. "Of course I do, don't be ridiculous."
She let the topic go. "You were made Prefect again, I hope? I have been in constant fear that I would have to put up with one of Lestrange twins on patrol for weeks now – put my fears to rest and tell me you were made Prefect, Severus."
"I was," he answered shortly, an amused light dancing in his eyes at the dramatic release of the tension in her shoulders at the news.
"Thank Nimue! I'm certain I would have hexed one of those buffoons into oblivion if I had to suffer the company every night."
Severus's amusement spread across his face, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "I also received another letter. One that presents both an opportunity and dilemma…."
"Oh?" A delicate eyebrow was raised.
He took great delight in slowly removing the letter from the folds of his robes only to have it snatched from his hands by his impatient friend. He merely raised an eyebrow at her rare lack of decorum as she practically devoured the contents of the letter.
She flicked her eyes up to his face. "This… is unheard of, Severus."
A smug smirk was planted firmly on his face, and he simply said: "I know."
Narcissa rolled her eyes and handed the letter back. "I see the opportunity – one I firmly believe you should take – but I do not see the dilemma."
The smirk faded. He cast a surreptitious look around the small pub before turning his hard eyes back to her. He lowered his voice to near a whisper and said, "I have already promised my Hogsmeade weekends away, something that I doubt will escape the notice of the headmaster for long. I do not believe I will be able to give up another weekend and be able to maintain all of my duties and studies. There is also the matter of getting… his approval for this."
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes that let him know she was thinking furiously. "I cannot see him denying you this opportunity, Severus. It is one thing to be apprenticed while still in Hogwarts, and entirely another to have the most prestigious Potioneer company owling you and practically begging you to work with them." She paused a moment, a faraway look in her eyes, "We will consult Lucius on this matter later today – he wishes to meet us for lunch."
Severus gave a curt nod, "What time are we meeting him, and where?"
"12 of the clock at The Hopping Pot," at her friend's confused looked she elaborated, "On Carkitt Market dear, it's next to Concordia Plunkett Musical Instruments."
"I know where it is, Narcissa," he said with a touch of annoyance. "Why did he choose that desolate pub of all places? I never would have thought Lucius would have set foot in there unless it was dire."
She merely shrugged her slim shoulders before picking up her cup of jasmine tea for a sip. "How long is your book list this year? I can't recall all of the mundane classes you're taking but I'm certain you will require at least four books to go with each of them."
"They aren't mundane, Narcissa, they're vital. I am to be a Potioneer, I need all of these lessons-"
"Yes, yes, spare me the lecture, Professor Snape," Narcissa interrupted with a wave of her hand, tactfully ignoring the flash of annoyance in his eyes. "I asked to better judge how long the bookstore might take – you know how Lucius is about tardiness. It would not do for us to still be caught up with our books and him sitting and waiting on us. So, is your list shorter than my arm this time, or do we need to put the bookstore off until after lunch?"
He sniffed, "It is as long as my arm. We will go following lunch with your fiancé."
This time Narcissa let her laughter loose, a light lilting noise.
He rolled his eyes at her, albeit with a measure of fondness. "We should proceed with this most painful of days then, Narcissa – and don't you dare try to fob yet another familiar onto me!"
The twinkle in her eyes suggested that she was planning on doing just that.
He shook his head at her. The moment she had learned in Fifth Year that he had gone his whole life without a familiar, she had made it a quest of hers to get him one. She rarely, if ever, failed in completing her quests, but he was determined to make it through this day without gaining a pet he had no need for.
He stood and, without thinking about it, pulled out her chair for her, "You are insufferable, you know."
"So I've been told," she replied, grinning mischievously at him, looping her arm through his.
"Whatever am I going to do with you?" He deadpanned, digging a few Knuts from his pouch of coins (courtesy of Heir Malfoy) to give to the bartender for her tea.
"Tolerate my 'insufferable' presence for the rest of your life?" She asked innocently.
He snorted. "Unlikely." The wry smile on his face said otherwise. He held the door open for her, "After you, Miss Black."
Edited by Chrysanthemum247!
