Severus has office hours, and chaperones a field trip
Severus Snape was not an easy man, and he had not had an easy life. He had found he was often equally likely to be the victim of an unfair twist of fate as he was to suffer for his own poor decisions. There was always something for him to endure, never to savor or cherish. He was tired, and he felt decades older than his thirty two years.
That being said, in the last eight months his life had taken a dramatic turn for the better. His brief correspondence with the young Lady Black had been a balm on a wound that had festered and threatened to kill him. He could see now just how close to the surface his constant rage and pain had been, how it had turned him into a weapon against the people around him, and he tried to do better and be better in small ways.
Though her words had helped him start to heal, it was her money that had helped him really start to live. And what a lot of money it was. Having such a sizable nest egg in the bank, he'd finally sold the wretched childhood home he'd been living in. It had been full of little more than a messy tangle of horrid reminders of poverty and abuse, but stepping away from it had been harder than he could have ever expected. All of his worst memories of his father were a relief to be free of, but the realization that the place also held his only good memories of his mother had been like a knife in his gut. As much as he resented her for the choices she'd made, the violent man she'd saddled them with and the way she'd abandoned her magic, she had loved him in her own way and he had loved her in spite of her choices.
So it was with a heavy and conflicted heart that Severus sold the place and bought a modest cottage in Hogsmeade. If he were the type to casually joke with others he'd say that the commute to work was great. But he wasn't, so he just thought it and almost chuckled.
The only possessions of any real substance he'd brought with him were his books and brewing equipment, and oh how the extra money had supplemented those. He hadn't exactly switched to golden cauldrons, but needless to say the quality of his materials had risen astronomically. He no longer had to scrimp and save to buy microscopic amounts of the expensive reagents he needed to make some of his more exotic concoctions. The first time he'd bought an entire scoop full of boom berries rather than just a few individual ones he had felt lightheaded from the price the cashier at the apothecary had quoted him, and it had felt like he might as well be paying his own blood to hand over nearly a week's wages.
So Severus' life improved in many ways.
His new home was a clean slate, and his new financial status was a fresh start. He had heard tell of muggles winning their lottery and making utter fools of themselves, buying everything they'd ever wanted and then ending up on the streets only a short while later. He would not put himself in the poor house by living beyond his means. He was determined to live simply and not ever meet that humiliating fate.
He had lived an incredibly austere life, one wouldn't have been strictly incorrect in calling it miserly, and so it was not hard to feel a significant difference from just a few small changes. His robes and clothing were finer and better made than anything else he'd worn before, but they were still plain black and simple in style. There was ample food in his pantry and an abundance of potions ingredients in his cabinet, but not more than he needed. Rare books he'd been desperate to read for years now filled the empty spaces on his shelves, but no more than he could actually reasonably read in the near future.
He had been more than a bit disappointed that his patroness had not ended up being one of his new crop of little snakes, but he supposed it took a certain undeniable boldness of character to reach out to him the way she had. It was noble of her to do what she had, in a way that Gryffindors often purported to be but rarely actually showed. The reveal at the sorting ceremony that the brother she had told him about was none other than Harry Potter had tasted like piss in his pumpkin juice. What was it about Potter men that they always seemed to manage to inextricably tie themselves to females who showed Severus the slightest hint of human kindness?
He had been prepared to hate the boy, despite how good his sister had been to him. He had not been expecting the boy to show up to his class deferring to her every verbal and nonverbal command, looking at her like she was his major general and taking her orders like a good little soldier, and doing a quietly adequate job all being told. That had given him quite a lot to ponder, in addition to the revelation that a great deal of his store of student ingredients were either tampered with, contaminated, or not what they had been labeled as. He'd been apoplectic as he reported to the headmaster what the two little werewolves and their uncanny noses had discovered.
He hadn't exaggerated when he'd told her in his classroom that it could have killed any number of her peers if any of them had caused an explosion with such wildly inconsistent materials. It hadn't escaped his notice how reliant on her organization and preparedness Longbottom had been. The boy had shaken like a leaf when he'd confronted him outside the storage room, and Severus had actually been on the verge of trying to find a way to backpedal when he realized how terrified the lad was, but she had beaten him to the punch with her vociferous defense.
It had been like a blast from the past, and he'd needed to sit down and have a stiff drink later that evening in his quarters. In the moment with her eyes burning so intensely and her hand on Longbottom's arm, he could practically see Lilly standing in front of him like an avenging angel telling Black and Potter to bugger off and leave him alone. His nose had stung, and he'd had to cast a discrete eye-drying charm.
In the weeks since he'd seen her again only in his classroom and in passing, but the entire rest of the staff had all been made aware of an educational contract their father's lawyer had somehow strong-armed the board of governors into signing that the children couldn't be discriminated against for being werewolves, and now none of them would shut up about it. Every other conversation he'd had with Minerva Filius or Pomona had been about how well behaved they were or about how talented they were or about how if other werewolf children were like the two of them then they should all be allowed to attend the school. That last talking point had given him pause, but he didn't really want to think more deeply about it or he'd have to truly confront the personal biases he'd held for decades.
It was one thing to be able to see past a terrifying condition that a child who had been very generous to him happened to have. The story she'd shared with him in correspondence had been compelling, and had melted away some of his worst fears. That didn't mean they were all washed away, though. It was another thing entirely to consider that there were possibly a great deal of other children with that same terrifying condition who it seemed very much wanted to come to the school he worked at, and that really wasn't such an unreasonable request but it made his skin crawl in a way that simultaneously made him feel guilty and ashamed. They were just children. But then again didn't all monsters start off as little ones? Hagrid had certainly made it his life's mission to prove that very fact.
The real test of his mettle had come the night before when he was doing rounds and he saw what he at first thought was a dog in the castle. After a moment of surprised confusion, he had followed it for a while, and began to become suspicious when it had a very clear path it was following and didn't get distracted at all like a normal animal would have. He'd frozen to the spot when it turned to face in in the entrance hall and he caught sight of glowing silver eyes and a short snout, and suddenly realized he was mere feet away from a transformed werewolf.
It looked nothing like he remembered of Lupin's appearance on that terrible night. It was the size of a German shepherd dog or perhaps a golden retriever, and though it was a bit difficult to tell in the dark he thought it must have had brown fur. It looked nearly identical to a true wolf. The creature he had seen in the shrieking shack had foamed at the mouth ravenously to get at him, scratching and tearing at everything in its path. It had stood hunched over on its hind legs with an upright spine, as if caught mid-transformation somewhere horrifically between man and beast. There had been nothing behind its eyes but rage and hunger.
The animal-… the child before him now couldn't be more different if she tried. She looked up with intelligent eyes and placidly wagged her tail in greeting. For all the fear he had felt a moment ago, he suddenly felt a fond tug at his heartstrings. He had always liked dogs more than cats. She had been pacing and turning around in circles in front of the front doors, and he realized with a breathless laugh that she probably wanted outside but didn't currently have the hands to get them open. He looked down at her and her mouth opened in a doggy smile with her tongue lolling out.
Scarcely believing what he was doing, he pushed the front doors open a crack and let her out, warning her not to be too long. He stood stock still as she came closer and licked him before running off almost too fast for his eyes to follow. He saw her barrel straight for the tree line, and sighed heavily. He should have known she would go straight to the one place where she wasn't supposed to be, she was a Gryffindor after all. Fucking hell.
He waited there by the doors for five minutes, then fifteen, then half an hour. As the time pushed closer to an hour he started to feel increasingly more foolish. He had let a first year wander off at night into the forbidden forest alone, what in the blazes was wrong with him? He considered summoning his broom and taking off to look for her when a glowing light at the tree line caught his attention. He had to rub his eyes, and even after he did he could scarcely believe what he was seeing.
The wolf was in the company of a silver unicorn, and before his eyes she changed back into a human girl in nothing more than her night gown. She was clearly having a conversation with the creature, and then hugged its neck and transformed back as quick as a flash. At roughly the same time he registered that she was moving he also realized she was coming back much faster than she left, and she had left very fast. He had thought it was a trick of his night vision that she had looked so large from far away, but as she approached he nearly stumbled backwards. She really had been the same size as the unicorn. How was she the same size as the unicorn????
Double checking her features he recognized the same brown fur and silvery eyes, and confirmed it wasn't a different wolf. He commanded her to explain herself, and as she shifted back into her human form she spouted some nonsense about moon blessings and centaurs. Briefly he wondered how much of what she'd said was true and how much was childish imagination, but he definitely wasn't awake enough to give it any real deeper thought.
He escorted her back to her common room and in the silence and dark of the night he contemplated the wild night she had just had. Was it a Gryffindor thing or a Black thing, or perhaps even a Potter thing by association, he wondered. To just go off and have midnight adventures in the forest without a care in the world. He'd certainly caught the Weasley twins trying to sneak out enough times to have a suspicion. His snakes often snuck around, but they at least had enough self-preservation to not run towards places that promised danger and certain death.
At her portrait hole he looked down and saw that her feet were dirty and bare, and that she had leaves and moss and a wriggling worm stuck to her. Although he sincerely hoped she would be taking a bath before going to bed and not getting in her covers like that, that wasn't any concern of his. She thanked him and crawled inside, and properly satisfied that he'd done his duty as a professor he promptly marched back down the stairs to the dungeons and into his own bed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The next morning Severus woke up in a terribly foul mood, not having gotten enough sleep in the slightest. He drained three cups of black coffee with his breakfast, and Poppy had the unmitigated gall to comment that he looked paler than usual and ask if he needed a vial of pepperup potion. She had simply laughed at the venomous scowl he had sent her way, and had the nerve to say his bite and bark were starting to diminish.
He noticed his little patroness come into the hall earlier than had been her habit the last few weeks, conspicuously alone. She settled at the Slytherin table with two of his youngest and most intriguing snakes, her cousins apparently. Of course the first Weasley to ever be sorted into Slytherin would come to school while he had the dubious honor of being the glorified nursemaid of said house. The school just loved to throw fun surprises and challenges his way.
He had of course heard an abridged version of events from Lucius, but it was still a surprise all the same to see his previously puffed up and self-important little godson relaxed and friendly with a Weasley and a werewolf. This was a boy whom he had once heard claim that friendships and alliances were the tools of the weak, and that the truly powerful knew better to cultivate followers and minions. Now here he he was laughing and whispering conspiratorially with his friends. After only a little over nine months of being around other children who weren't also raised by death eaters - what a stark difference the influence of the people you surrounded yourself with made. He found himself feeling reluctantly proud of the boy.
Maybe people really could change.
Severus noticed with bored disinterest that there was some sort of drama when her brother and the Longbottom boy entered the hall, and was glad he was far enough away not to be able to hear it. Those irrepressible paranoid spy instincts told him he ought to try and lipread their conversation in case it might prove important, but he firmly pushed the urge aside. He didn't need or want to know whatever was going on with them. He finished his meal quickly, and hurried back down to the dungeons. He had fourth years on Wednesdays and he needed to put up extra warding around their work stations before they got there. For some unknowable reason they always generated the greatest overall destruction to his classroom out of the entire student body.
The morning passed relatively peacefully, with only minor scorching to one of his tables that came up easily enough after the little reprobates had left and he had a free moment to fix it. Luckily the student hadn't actually harmed themself in the small blast, only his bench. Lunch brought yet more intrigue on the Potter Greyback front, yet he remained determined not to give two figs about whatever ridiculous childish drama they were dealing with. He regrettably did notice that she was writing something throughout nearly the entire meal, and that her brother was quite attentively feeding her while she worked. It was a bit sweet, and someone who wasn't chronically exhausted by devious children all day every day might even say it was adorable. He certainly wouldn't, but someone might.
Trudging back to his dungeon, he cast his wards again and noticed to his dismay that he had missed a spill of something acidic earlier. Whatever it was had over the course of his short repast managed to dissolve all the way through an entire tabletop, leaving a hole you could see through to the floor below. Perfect. Wonderful. If he'd gotten it up sooner before it had started to eat through the table he could have transfigured the surface in such a way that it might at least be salvageable later, but there was no fixing the enormous gaping hole without something more potent. He sent his patronus off to Minerva asking her if she could come advise, as the reigning master of the subject her abilities on her worst day outpaced his on his best.
Her silvery cat streaked into his classroom and informed him she'd be there momentarily, rubbing up against his legs before fading away into glimmering mist. True to her word she arrived within ten minutes and confirmed his belief that there was little that could be done for it except replace it. She could of course have fixed it and made it look exactly as perfect as the day it had been made, but it would have been vulnerable to switching back and might have unusual properties that could interact poorly with potent magical ingredients. She apologized for his trouble, and told him she'd talk to Filch about bringing a replacement out of storage.
For the time being, as he had a class about to start within mere moments, she transfigured one of the stools into a solid workbench, citing some advanced transcendental transfigurational theory about how something made entirely new from another object was more stable than something that was a fixed or repaired version of the same object. It went sailing well over his head and he promptly tuned her out, nodding and humming when appropriate. Giving the occasional "Ah yes, I see."
He had just enough time before the next round of little hellions swarmed in to push the broken work table to the side of the room where no one would trip over it. They entered as he was making his way back to his desk at the front of the room, buzzing excitedly about a fight that had broken out between two seventh years who were apparently after the same witch. The ones who had actually been in the courtyard where it took place were recounting the story to the awe of the rest of them who were unlucky enough to only hear about it second hand. Bloodthirsty little locusts.
Deciding he'd had more than enough of their nonsense, he made a loud bang with his wand. He'd only intended to get their attention and quiet them all down, but they were already so worked up from hearing about a fight that one of them screamed at the noise and another passed out cold. Stunned that he had a medical emergency in his classroom before any of them had even gotten their materials out to start brewing, he unthinkingly swore loudly. Realizing he had cursed in front of students he swore again, then closed his eyes in mortification. The foul words he would have taken a dozen or more points from any of them for saying within his earshot rang out in the silence of the room, bouncing off the echoey stone walls and causing the fourth years to erupt into uncontrollable laughter.
Already he could hear one of them crowing "Professor Snape just said shite… and then he said fuck!" This was an absolute catastrophe. He caught himself before he made the mistake of trying yet again to use a loud noise to make them settle down and instead just barked out "Silence! All of you, I want silence!"
The room hushed, and he strode over to the child on the ground. He snapped his fingers in front of their face, and when that did nothing he cast a mild rennervate on them. They jolted awake with a gasp, which frightened some of the closest children huddled nearby. He glared up at them and they immediately backed away to a more appropriate distance. Casting a diagnostic charm on the child, he noticed that something was off. It was probably only a minor concussion from falling over, but to be on the safe side he sent them to the hospital wing to be checked over just in case.
Feeling exhausted and not a little embarrassed, he looked at his students and saw their eyes were alert and curious. Though he hated lecturing almost as much as he hated the droning sound of his own voice, there was ultimately a lesson to be learned in all of this. He sighed, and heaved himself back up to his feet and to the front of the room. With a wave of his wand, the word DISTRACTIONS wrote itself in chalk on the blackboard.
"Funny as it may seem to see someone fall down or to hear a professor swear, imagine how much worse it all may have been if we'd had ten fires burning in this room when it had happened. If there had been piles of loose ingredients being prepared all over the room, and cauldrons filled with boiling liquids. A student is injured, but if we had been brewing already they might be dead if they had fallen while holding a knife or into someone's unfinished or incorrectly brewed potion. Come look at what happened just an hour ago in this very room," he said, walking over to the corner where he had shoved the destroyed table out of the way.
Following him curiously, his fourth years gathered around the table and some of them gasped at the holes in it "What happened to it, sir?" One of them asked.
He drew his wand along the edges of the hole and siphoned away few drops of the acid that still clung to the wood fibers "This is armadillo bile, it's used in the potion you are supposed to be brewing today. The other fourth years who had their class in the morning also had a distraction in class today. Someone's cauldron exploded and their table was burnt. That table I was able to fix relatively easily. You won't be able to tell which one it was by looking at them. But this table wasn't properly cleaned, and because I was fixing the other table I didn't notice in time."
"By the time I came back from lunch the armadillo bile residue that the students had left behind had done the damage you see before you. In barely forty minutes those drops of bile dissolved an industrial grade potions worktable. These things are built and charmed to be nearly indestructible. I could cast a bombarda on one and put it back together ten times over before ever having to worry about its structural integrity. But three drops of acid and it's destroyed beyond fixing."
"Think about that when you're using armadillo bile today in your potions, and when you're drawing it out of the flask that contains nearly a gallon of the stuff. Though there is a cost, a table is replaceable - we have more in storage somewhere, and mister Filch will I'm sure be able to find an identical one to match the one we've lost. There is no replacing you or your friends or classmates if this acid or any of our other more dangerous ingredients spill on one of you. Our ability to magically heal our injuries sometimes lets us forget how much destruction and pain can be caused by a terrible injury. Madame Pomfrey has a salve that will remove acid burns in a single afternoon, but if we were forced to heal like muggles it would take weeks or even longer for the skin to begin to naturally repair itself. Think about that" he said, feeling as if he'd gone on endlessly, but seeing thoughtful consideration on many of their faces. Maybe he had gotten through to some of them. He could only hope.
The rest of the class passed by with an almost zen Buddhist sense of focus in the very air of the room. His students it seemed had been appropriately scared straight by his little speech and demonstration of the table, and were almost overly cautious as they brewed, moving about like little turtles. There wasn't a single incident for the entire afternoon, and when they handed in their potions he could tell just by color and texture alone that they were all at the very least passing. Cleaning up took three times longer than normal, but when they were done the lab was spotless. Surfaces shone that hadn't been cleaned in years. One of them had scrubbed the utility sink until it gleamed. He was genuinely impressed.
Overall it was the best bad situation he'd ever had in the lab. He couldn't believe it had come around after such a terrible start to the afternoon.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He didn't stick around long once afternoon classes were over. A better educator might have stayed and answered whatever questions his students had for a while in an attempt to debrief the children from what they'd seen of a very real medical emergency or the evidence of the damage their ingredients could cause. He felt quite certain however that he'd said as much as there was to meaningfully say, and he didn't have anything else left to give for the time being.
Hurrying to his office, Severus had a stack of essays half his height he was eager to avoid marking. Settling in at his desk, a Hogwarts elf quietly popped in and brought him a stiff cup of tea, and he thanked it gratefully. The fourth years had turned in their essays at the beginning of class in preparation for brewing, and as he started reading through them he realized why there had been so many accidents throughout the day. None of them really understood the subtle interaction between ingredients, and enough of them had misclassified the acidity of the armadillo bile that he realized there must have been a print error in their textbooks somewhere.
They still should have known better and cleaned their mess up properly, but they couldn't necessarily be blamed for underestimating how dangerous it was if their books had the wrong information. He'd need to speak with Albus about getting a misprint grievance filed with the publisher and having the master copy changed. What a monumental fucking pain in his arse.
As he wrote out a correction disclaimer that he planned to simply duplicate on each essay that had the wrong information, he heard a knock at his door. His disguised and warded door. Only his snakes knew where his office was, and they were all well aware that the office hours he was required to post to his syllabus were a bad joke. He narrowed his eyes and stormed over, throwing the door open and getting ready to have a proper snit at whoever was bothering him. Of course it was her, her nose was twitching and she looked incredibly proud of herself for having found him. Little bloodhound.
He reluctantly allowed her in and she broke into a long and rambling story about how she simply needed to go back into the forbidden forest yet again and take more students with her this time like a little pied piper. He felt a headache mounting. The girl continued on and on about her brother and his werewolf spirit needing fixing somehow, and the unicorn from the forest being a moon priestess. What in the buggering hells?
Entirely without giving it a second thought, in the next moment that they made eye contact Severus reached out mentally and brushed against her mind. Students often complained that he seemed to know when they were lying or planning pranks or not paying attention, and it was because he regularly skimmed their surface thoughts to get an overview of what was going on within. It was a self defense mechanism as much as it was the greatest tool he had in his disciplinary arsenal. Students that believed he had a strange sixth-sense for naughtiness tended to be on their best behavior in his presence, and more importantly his classroom.
Unexpectedly, he found himself sinking deeper and deeper into a thoughtscape that had absolutely no defenses whatsoever. What he had meant only to be a typical glance into the general makeup of what she was thinking in the moment turned into a deep dive through years of her memories. He felt nauseous and overwhelmed as he saw nearly everything she had done and experienced for the last five years of her life.
He realized belatedly that she had not been exaggerating in the slightest about the unicorn centaur woman, and had in fact been telling the truth nearly verbatim. He sensed her start to panic as he saw her memories of discovering and then discussing joining a burgeoning goblin rebellion, and he pushed that to the very back of his mind to be dealt with at a much later date if ever.
He saw her meeting and making friends with her cousins, after having reinstated them into their family as the head of their house. He'd thought the way she had treated him had been the height of kindness and compassion - she had claimed lordship over her house just to help people she'd never even met before. No wonder the Weasley/Malfoy blood feud seemed to finally have been put to rest, she had smashed it like a hammer.
He saw years of her running and playing in the woods around what must be the rural compound in the wilderness she had grown up on. She really was a very active child, no wonder she'd been feeling cooped up. Her father was an enormous presence in her world, larger than life and she was clearly the center of his universe. She must be missing him terribly.
He saw her meeting Harry Potter, not the spoiled and pampered brat he'd always envisioned but a terribly abused child who was quiet and polite and scared of his own shadow. He saw her latch onto him almost immediately, somehow knowing he was a person who would be important to her for the rest of her natural life. He saw her and her father essentially kidnap and adopt the child into their little family. He saw her bite the boy and turn him into a werewolf.
He couldn't fully comprehend exactly what he was feeling from these memories, but he understood that she was sensationally happy to the point of reminding him of the time he'd accidentally imbibed an elixir to induce euphoria. It seemed incongruous and unreal, the idea of becoming a werewolf being something that she had celebrated. The edges around this particular memory had the characteristic of being strangely worn smooth as if from constant revisiting. He tried to understand but couldn't wrap his head around it. Conceptually it should have been a horrifying and gruesome scene seeing a child turned into a monster out of his nightmares, but everything in the memory radiated joy and peace.
Pulling back out of her mind felt like getting ice water splashed over him, as he realized the severity of his breach of ethics. The legilimency he had performed on this child, his first year student, had been more thorough than ministry interrogators usually reserved for the most hardened violent criminals. Gods be good, he may have done irreparable harm to her mind - he glanced back up and to his utter confusion and growing horror she was smiling. What in Salazar's name could such a response indicate?
He apologized profusely, practically groveling in a manner befitting just how heinous his actions were. To his shame she tried to tell him it was fine, and he had to explain how reprehensible it was to invade another's mind the way he had just done to her. Still she insisted that she was actually glad he had seen her memories and knew she was telling the truth. Those words nearly made him choke they were so innocent and unassuming.
Like an idiot the only thing he could bring himself to say in response was an offer to escort her and her whole posse of friends into the woods to meet with this unicorn priestess. He nearly slammed his head on his desk as the words left his mouth. What was he bloody thinking!? Certainly not about how he had just committed an Azkaban worthy crime. All he could think about was giving this sweet and precious child who was too good and too kind whatever she wanted. Was this what actually enjoying a child's presence felt like? It was a startling new feeling and he wasn't sure he liked it. It made him act rather like a fool.
She left his office happily shortly after, and his thoughts continued to spiral as he revisited everything he had seen and learned.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The following two days rushed by entirely too fast for his liking. His Thursday classes were sixth years followed by seventh years, as his NEWTs level classes were small enough that there was only a single year block for each. They were almost competent enough to be allowed to brew unsupervised, if any student could ever truly be described thusly. Word had spread about the disasters the fourth years had caused the day before, and the student body was on tenterhooks around him. The day passed without incident.
Friday were his first years, first the Gryffindor and Slytherin block in the morning and then the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff block in the afternoon. He briefly considered how badly the lion-snake rivalry could have been if the Malfoy/Weasley feud hadn't been settled and the redheaded boy had been sorted differently, and shuddered at the thought of the sheer destruction that could have been wrought on his classroom. Thankfully the two worked together like old chums, putting out decent work that surpassed his general expectations.
Though he couldn't praise them quite so openly, it was his little Greyback patroness and the Longbottom boy that really impressed him. They worked diligently and shared tasks equally, read the materials together before even starting, kept their workspace tidy and organized, followed all the instructions to the letter, produced quality finished potions, and cleaned up like a drill sergeant was coming to inspect their work and make them eat off the table when they were finished. He wasn't sure what it was exactly that made them perform so well as a team, but he got the impression that they were quite good friends. Sometimes that helped in the classroom, and sometimes it made students perform significantly worse. It was always a gamble.
Whatever it was he was glad it kept her from working with her brother, as he wouldn't have been able to be nearly as polite to her in his classroom if she was paired with the Potter boy. There were politics involved, and the optics would have been bad. One could never be certain which students reported everything they saw back to their parents, and there were still plenty of former death eaters out there who would be distinctly unhappy to hear that he was being publicly friendly with the boy who had defeated their lord. As it was he figured he was on thin ice for not being harsher on the boy's sister, but he at least had the excuses that she was the head of the Black family and performed so well in his class.
The morning class passed without incident, they all brewed a simple wiggenweld solution to various degrees of success. Even Crabbe and Goyle hadn't done too poorly, their potion was at least a liquid this time. Then again with only horklump juice and a single dittany leaf he was hard pressed to think of how they could have possibly gotten a solid result.
Once again she and Longbottom had produced the clear overall best potion, with Weasley and Malfoy not far behind. She had also discretely pointed out to him that his dittany leaves smelled less pungent to her nose than the ones the apothecary her dad shopped at usually had, and she wasn't sure if that meant they were a bit stale or had been harvested at the wrong time. He was appreciative of the information, but not the extra work it made for him or the troubling picture it painted about the general state of his storage room.
He wondered just how many of his ingredients were off in ways he never would have had the slightest inkling about. Though the beak-like shape and size of his nose had been the butt of many sophomoric jokes over the years, he had always been proud of his own discerning sense of smell. It was quite disappointing how drastically it paled in comparison to a werewolf child's. Giving his jar of dittany a deep whiff, he frustratedly noted that the difference in freshness was virtually indistinguishable to his nose.
As the class packed up their things and broke into groups to head out, she and her little posse of friends and relatives hung back. He fought not to roll his eyes at their overall lack of subtlety "Did you need something, Miss Greyback?" He asked her, and after a moment of hesitation she replied "I was just wondering what time we should meet you, sir, and where. For our… field trip," she might as well have been holding a giant sign that said they were up to something. He rubbed his temples, desperately trying to stave off a headache he felt building.
"You will wait until half an hour after dinner has ended, and then you will meet me in the entrance hall by the front doors. You will tell any friends or house mates who ask that you are serving detention. You will all dress warmly, you will each bring your wand and nothing else. You will tell no one of the true purpose of this excursion. Am I understood?" They all nodded at him, the boys fearfully and the girl eagerly.
"Professor, when I met with the centaurs the other night they said they hate the spiders because they eat all the deer that they used to hunt for food. Bane said even their strongest toxins barely do a thing to slow the spiders down! Do you have any poison we could bring them to use on their arrows that would work better? I think they might really appreciate that," she asked innocently, and he was sent reeling. Of course she would want him to bring biological weaponry to a population the ministry declared 'hostile creatures'. Her little friends all looked appropriately horrified, but he just nodded and said he'd think of something.
A terrible thought occurred to him at the very last second before he was about to dismiss them "I can't believe I'm saying this, and I will deny it if ever asked, but do recall that there are no toilets in the forest. For Salazar's sake, use the loo before we leave. We're not coming back just because someone has to go. If you don't do it here you're going to have to do it on the ground where Merlin's ghost and everybody can see," he urged them, and the little beasts had the audacity to giggle at him. He scowled harshly and waved them away dismissively.
As the little group of them wandered off he casually wondered just how much he would end up regretting this. Obviously it was a huge mistake and he had clearly fallen victim to a powerful bout of insanity, but all things being equal he'd certainly see something interesting no matter how the night shook out. There was always the possibility that he might be killed on the spot for entering the centaurs territory, but Albus had successfully treated and negotiated with the herd in the past. If that barmy old codger could do it why couldn't he?
Feeling much more confident and having a good idea of how to at least endear himself to them, he took off for his private labs, set to brewing, and didn't come up again for air until dinner was nearly over. Calling an elf he asked it to bring a plate of food to his office, and he ate there in front of his toasty fireplace rather than going all the way up to the hall. Finishing up and and stretching, he threw a handful of floo powder into the flames and called out for the headmaster's office. He was invited to come through, and he did so.
Severus stepped out into a busy office that buzzed with a million little animated tchotchkes and knickknacks, and his teeth instantly set on edge with the sheer noise and clutter and ambient motion of it. Ignoring his discomfort he sat in the chair across from his employer "Good evening, my boy. I was sorry not to see you at dinner" the old man said with a small smile and that ever-present twinkle in his clear blue eyes.
He hummed dismissively, crossing his arms in front of himself and avoiding eye contact "I was working on something in the lab. I need to go into the forest to pick some rare ingredients and I don't want to cause trouble with the centaurs. I've made something to give them as a gift in exchange for passage, and I was hoping you might be able to help me… beef it up a bit. Tell me, Albus, have you still got an ever pouring flask I could have by any chance?" He asked casually, picking nonexistent lint off of his robes.
He heard a chuckle and couldn't help but let his eyes roam over the old man, swearing when he was caught in his gaze "Oh Severus, you are a tender heart. I'm glad you're trying new things. Keeping yourself open to new experiences. Do tell me how it goes," Dumbledore said mirthfully, reaching into his desk and pulling out and handing him an unassuming little brown jug that looked like it may well have held moonshine hooch at one point.
Feeling altogether too transparent and seen through, Severus snatched it from him with a curt and ungracious thanks, and rushed back through the fireplace to his own office. It took him a few minutes to remember the correct spells to prime and load the flask, and he was tremendously glad he didn't have to submit to the humiliation that would be going back through and asking Albus how to do so after having flounced off. He briefly considered if a better gift might be something restorative or nourishing, but she had said this was something they needed. Gathering himself his warmest summer weight cloak, he made for the entrance hall.
They were already waiting there when he arrived, bundled up like he'd instructed. He noticed she and the Longbottom boy both had large baskets, and he rolled his eyes but ignored it "Alright, are all of you ready? And you've all… used the facilities?" He asked brusquely, and when they nodded eagerly and chorused quiet "yes"es he lead them out the doors and across the lawn to the tree line.
Turning to them all he raised his wand and cast a powerful lumos, then walked them all through how to do the same and modulate the amount of light their wands put out. He drew their attention and gave them his most serious lecture yet "This is an official school diplomatic trip to visit a neighboring population. I'm assuming that's food from the kitchens in your baskets, and I made the poison Miss Greyback suggested, so we have gifts to offer. You will stick together and no one will wander away for any reason. I will be placing temporary tracking charms on you before we enter the forest, and doing regular checks that you are all still with the group of us," he said, doing so on each of them in turn. He gritted his teeth to get through the next part, and he could feel heat rising to his cheeks.
"When and if we interact with the centaurs, you will speak to them only when spoken to, and you will be on your absolute best behavior. No jokes about horses or hay or apples. And I shouldn't even have to say this but you're eleven year old boys, so don't mention or stare at their genitalia. I don't care what it looks like, laugh about it when we get back to the castle if you must, but if I hear a single one of you whispering or giggling about them I'll cast the mother of all stinging hexes on you before you can even blink twice. Do I make myself clear?" He demanded, and although the girl looked embarrassed the boys were fighting to hold in laughter "get it out now if you must, but I don't want you saying a bloody word about their willies in front of them!" he hissed.
"Do they really have horse todgers, uncle Sev?" Draco asked impishly and the girl nodded miserably, her face beet red "I wasn't going to say anything, but they definitely do. They dangle right at eye level, practically as big as your forearm. Don't walk right behind them if you can help it," she said with a grimace, cringing at her own words and covering her face with her hands. He had to close his eyes not to bark out a laugh at that. He was not an eleven year old boy and it wasn't funny. It wasn't.
"Does anyone else have any questions before we depart?" He asked, forcing his voice steady. They shook their heads, and he turned to the girl "Please transform yourself now, and we will follow where you lead, my Lady. We'll try not to slow you down too much, but please don't go too far ahead of us either," he said softly in her direction, and she beamed at him and nodded.
Handing her basket off to her brother, she grinned at him "You thought it was cool before? Just wait until you see this," she crowed smugly, taunting like a pro wrestler. With a shimmering wave of green sparkles her body shifted seamlessly into that of a wolf. An absolutely enormous wolf, just as big as it had been when she came back from the forest the other night. It seemed her change in size had been permanent after all. Her fur was still the same soft brown as her hair and her eyes glowed silver rather than their normal grey, but her size was now by far the most impressive thing about her transformation.
All of her little circle of lads gasped and oohed and ahhed "When-what-how!? You're as big as a horse!" The Potter boy said eloquently, and he heard the Longbottom boy mumble something about how majestic she looked. When he glanced over at him the lad was blushing to the very tips of his ears and had a dreamy look on his chubby face. He should probably eventually learn that child's name.
She rushed over to her brother and nuzzled her snout onto the top of his head, leaning her neck down to lick his forehead. The boy made to hug her tightly around the top of her chest and seemed distressed when his arms wouldn't go around her all the way. She looked at Severus pleadingly and he sighed "She left the castle the other night the size you are familiar with, similar to a large dog. When she came back there was a unicorn with her and they were the same size. I have no idea what happened to cause this change," he informed them.
To the boys great amusement, she took that as her cue to kneel like a dressage horse and look up at the Potter boy expectantly. He seemed flabbergasted, and had a rather serious expression on his little face "Right now? You're not just having a laugh?" He asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. She shook her head and yipped "You really mean it?" He asked quietly but with excitement building in his voice. She nodded her head up and down exaggeratedly, and yowled loudly.
He had an enormous grin on his face "Alright, I'm taking that as good as if it were in writing. You heard it too right, Ron?" He asked his cousin for confirmation and the boy just shook his head in utter bewilderment "Mate, you might as well be having a conversation with a Labrador retriever for all I understood of that," Weasley retorted smartly "all I can reasonably testify is that I heard her make some very canine sounds at your person," he added, and Potter waved him off dismissively. Rolling his eyes Severus took that as his cue to cut in "It's very clear what she wants Mr Greyback. You might as well give it a go, and then let's get a move on shall we?" He urged a bit desperately, his patience wearing thin.
If he were still an eleven year old boy he supposed he might have been able to see the absolute wonder in it that the rest of them clearly did from the start as he watched the lad climb up onto his sister's enormous back and settle himself between her shoulder blades. He looked like a small child on a pony until she rose back up to her feet, and suddenly it was less funny and more a spectacular and legitimately jaw dropping sight. The two of them looked like something out of mythology or folk legend. A young boy sat boldly and fearlessly astride a tremendously large wolf. In the back of his mind a long forgotten prey instinct told him to kneel before these fey creatures as they passed and to never look them in the eye.
Completely oblivious to his spiraling thoughts, the children laughed and cheered. As she took off at a trot into the trees they followed behind her, the little lights from the wands they held aloft danced and trailed behind her like a formal procession of fireflies.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
By the time her brother fell off for the second time and blamed her for banking too unexpectedly, she was less willing to let him climb back up for a third attempt. Instead she kneeled in front of Longbottom, offering him her back as regally as a knight's steed. The boy stammered and blushed but hauled himself up onto her back nonetheless, and yelped when she rose up to her feet "W-whoooah… Mother of Merlin, this is high up," he said, nervous and excited at the same time. She pranced in slow circles around the rest of them as they kept walking, letting him get used to the motion. Soon he was grinning and riding as competently as a jockey, and he sat as if he'd been in the saddle from birth like a child of the steppes.
The other boys hadn't made a single peep of complaint, but his two little snakes were clearly seething with jealousy as Longbottom enjoyed himself. Their eyes followed the two as she picked up speed, galloping around and jumping over fallen logs. That neither of them had resorted to openly begging for a ride yet was an impressive feat of restraint that he was sure had more to do with their pride than anything else.
After about twenty minutes of walking placidly through the woods following in the direction she was leading them, the girl started rushing ahead and then back to them and whining. It only took a few minutes of this for Severus to snap and tell her she could run if she needed to but that she'd better not get them turned around in circles. Her tongue lolled happily out of her head when he said that, and she barked once quite loudly before letting Longbottom clamber down and taking off away from them into the dark of the night like a flash.
"Is that really… wise, sir?" His godson asked him quietly, his voice shaking. He patted the boy's shoulder lightly "Not to worry, she'll be a rug in front of my fireplace if she abandons us out here," he said raising his voice for her to hear him from a distance. "A cruel thing for an adult to say about a child, but not unexpected from a human," a deep voice rang out from the direction they were headed in, and Severus swore under his breath at the poor timing of his thoughtless comment.
He heard the girl immediately jump to his defense "Oh come on, you know he was joking. Like I'd ever sit still long enough to be skinned in one piece!" Her little voice rang out cheerfully. It was an extremely grisly thing for her to make light of but the centaur laughed with good humor, and it was a distinctly horse-like noise. He gritted his teeth in his effort not to chuckle. It wasn't funny.
As they came within range of his wand light he saw that the child had brought three centaurs out to meet them, and that she was sitting on the back of the largest and meanest looking one. It had a black coat and long black hair much like his own that hung to its shoulders. Over its back a bow and quiver full of arrows were slung. He held up a hand behind him for the boys to stop, and he drew himself up straight to his full height before bowing low at the waist.
He felt a jolt of discomfort as he put his wand away in its holster up his sleeve, but swallowed and pushed past it as best as he could. With his prize cradled in upward facing palms he held it out for them to inspect "I am Severus Snape, the school's Master of Potions," he enunciated crisply and with emphasis on his title "and I have studied for years to learn the secrets of my craft. I was told by your young friend that you have a spider problem. This ever pouring flask is filled with a potent toxin that is deadly to acromantulae, I offer it as a gift to you and your herd to coat your arrows, and I give it with no conditions or requests. I am here only to safely escort my student through the woods to visit you," he said, remaining bent and refusing to look up even as he heard hoof beats get nearer.
"Well met Severus Snape, Master of Potions," said a much friendlier voice, and he glanced up to see a blonde palomino stallion nearly nose to nose with him "I am Firenze, and the stars shine brightly on this night that we meet," he said with a lilting voice and a wide grin. One of the other centaurs let a noise out much like a whinny, and he steadfastly ignored it "You bring us gifts of poison? The irony could not be richer than if you asked us to drink it and toast your own good health," it said furiously, stomping one of its front hooves. He and the four boys all froze at those dangerous words, but the girl scoffed and *tsk*ed loudly.
To his horror she yanked on a hank of the stallion's long hair "Really now Bane, you told me yourself that you needed a better poison! If you're going to be cross with anybody it might as well be me. I was the one who told him that it would be a helpful gift. I also brought them here without consulting you, which I am sorry for seeing as I know how you feel about humans. Amalthea said I could bring my brother and the rest of them just sort of tagged along. The boys brought a gift as well, if you're interested," she said sheepishly, and the redheaded roan centaur did look intrigued. The black stallion shook his head and huffed "That may be true, but you strain our hospitality bringing so many humans here, young one, even for a friend of the herd," he said a bit… mulishly. It wasn't funny.
The blonde stallion that had introduced himself rolled his eyes "We could no sooner turn away one invited here by Our Lady herself than we could ask young Hermione not to howl at the moon or our own foals not to run through the trees," he chided with a laugh "now let's see what you've brought us, hmm?" He prompted with raised brows.
Taking that as their cue, Potter and Weasley hefted their baskets forward and set them in front of the centaur "I am Harry Potter Greyback, twin brother of Hermione. These are our cousins by the blood of her mother's clan, Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy, and this is our good friend Neville Longbottom. We bring your herd these gifts of food from our kitchens and warm blankets for the approaching winter," the boy said reverently, his voice low and respectful. Severus was actually rather impressed.
The largest stallion, the roan, twitched his long pointed ear "We thank you for the gifts you have brought us, your generosity speaks volumes. You are here for another reason though, young one. The stars told us we would meet, but not why. Please elucidate," he said, and there was a hint of fondness in his voice. Severus realized this one was their leader, and he cursed internally that he hadn't thought to ask the girl their names before coming out.
Meanwhile Potter looked up at the centaur in surprise, then questioningly made eye contact with his sister. She nodded subtly and her face softened into a warm smile at him, and that was all the encouragement the boy needed "I've come seeking your Lady's help connecting to the moon. From the moment my sister gave me her gift, her heart has been broken. I don't have her ability to shift freely, and though I disagree wholeheartedly I know she feels as if she's failed me somehow. If there's something wrong with my wolf's connection with the moon, we figure your Lady is the best person to help us try and untangle it," he said with the innocent earnestness only a child was capable of.
The roan centaur nodded, and even the hostile black stallion seemed appeased by the boy's answer. Firenze spoke up again "You are wise to seek her out, young one. If it is indeed a question of the moon, then there is none other more qualified to give you counsel," he said sagely. The roan clopped forward and leaned down to pick up the baskets, holding one and handing the other to the black to carry "You may follow us back to our village, it is not much further from here," he said brusquely "but know that if you do not respect our home you will never be invited back," he added with no room for argument, turning and trotting away without a second glance backwards.
From one disciplinarian to another, Severus had to respect his sense of dramatic timing.
As the other two made to leave the clearing as well, the girl gracefully leapt down from the black stallion's back. She shifted in a burst of green sparkles and shook out her fur, catching up and keeping pace with them easily. The rest of them lagged behind for a moment, still somewhat shell shocked over the entire interaction. She came back into the radius of their light charms and barked once, getting their attention and quite clearly urging them to hurry it up. The boys all laughed, and jogged behind her.
It really wasn't much more of a walk further before the tops of sturdy wooden huts came into view above a tall and solid looking perimeter fence. Two centaur stallions in light leather armor holding spears stood guard outside the open gate, and they visibly tensed as the group of humans approached. He saw the leader speaking with them and they relaxed somewhat, but remained on guard. Passing through the simple wooden gate, Severus was reminded of an image from so long ago in his childhood that it was almost like a dream to him now. It was a muggle film he had watched with his mother one of the few times they had gone to a cinema, and in it the adventurers had encountered a peaceful tribe of indigenous people in the Amazon rainforest. They had lived in a village remarkably similar to the one he was now standing in.
Each hut had its own little garden patch growing vegetables and herbs. Here and there a few of the huts had small enclosures that held pet porlocks or diricawls. It took him a moment to identify some of the tools he saw, but he realized quickly that the long stretched frames were for tanning animal hides. There were small cooking fires and hearths visible through the doorways into the huts, and in the distance he saw the glow and rising smoke of a larger central bonfire. Everything was interesting to look at, it was a veritable feast for the eyes, and his curiosity was more stimulated than it had been in years.
What drew his attention though, were the villagers. Tensions had been so high between their races for so long, and the centaurs were so very isolationist, that he was somehow certain he was the first wizard to lay eyes on a female centaur or one of their children in generations. It was the size of a little newborn fawn, and as it toddled on wobbly legs to its mother his heart thumped wildly in his chest. His nose burned and he felt his eyes water traitorously as he was reminded of Lilly and her patronus and the child she should have been allowed to raise. Fuck, now was really not the time for that.
Everything the literature said about them indicated a stoic and grim people, uncivilized barbarians who vehemently hated humans. What he saw could not have been further from that. The centaurs they passed as they made their way through the village did initially balk at seeing him, but for the most part waved and smiled once they realized he had brought children with him. Some even called out polite greetings. A farmer tending to her little vegetable garden asked him if he'd had an evening meal, and proudly offered him a huge carrot she'd just pulled from the dirt, stem and all. He took it gratefully and thanked her, casting a brief aguamenti to rub it clean and snapping off pieces to share with the children.
Biting into it like a rabbit, his godson remarked that it was the freshest and best tasting carrot he'd ever had. The other children laughed at him, and it drew over a small group of centaur foals that were looked like they might be close to them in age. Two girls and a boy trotted over fearlessly on their tiny hooves and introduced themselves as Berry, Bunny, and Trout. They talked over each other excitedly, wanting to know what it was like living inside the castle they'd only ever seen from a distance. The human children took turns describing the different areas they lived in, the Gryffindors boasting about the incredible view from their high tower and his snakes bragging about being able to see the squid and merfolk in the lake from their dungeon windows.
It was the most joyous and relaxed he'd ever seen a mixed-house group of students, and he wondered if it would even be possible if they weren't family. Suddenly the centaur foals all gasped and pointed behind him, kneeling down awkwardly on their front legs and bowing their heads low. He turned to see what they'd reacted to and froze in his tracks, scarcely believing his eyes. Approaching them from one one of the nicer looking huts close to the central fire was a centaur woman almost beyond his comprehension.
She was clearly the unicorn he had seen the girl running with at the edge of the forest. Her coat was silver and shone like daylight, her skin was much paler than the others of her race, and the hair that hung down to her waist was as white as milk. The horn protruding from her head had a twist in it like an antelope, and it radiated a glimmering shimmering aura of pure magic. He staunchly avoided her eyes, not wanting to know what dwelled within, and not wanting to be tempted to dive in like he had with the girl. He still regretted his actions terribly, even if she had been bafflingly understanding.
As his gaze widened to take in more around him he realized the adults were kneeling and bowing in the same way as she drew closer, and he dropped to his knees like a rag doll, hissing at his charges to do the same. Draco grumbled about getting dirt on his trousers, but cut off with a grunt as if someone had elbowed him sharply. The girl was the only one who stayed standing, and though he wanted to urge her to show some respect she was really the only reason they were welcome in the first place. He might as well let her take the lead if she had the slightest clue where all of this was going.
As the woman approached them the girl drifted slowly towards her like an asteroid caught in her orbit, her arms raised and reaching upwards. Some of the centaurs seemed surprised by this, but if they were then none of them said anything about it, keeping their heads down as she passed them. When they were within arms reach of each other the woman's face finally turned down towards the girl and the voice that came from her mouth was many-layered and resonant "Hello again little sister," she whispered sweetly, and it carried clearly enough for him to hear it from far away. She reached down with a long pale arm and brushed a curl behind the child's ear, and she leaned into her touch like a cat.
"Hello Amalthea," the girl responded shyly, reaching up to touch the hand that cupped her cheek "I know you said I'd see you again, but I hope you don't mind that I came back with friends," she said a bit sheepishly. The woman's eyes, which he was still staunchly avoiding, softened and she smiled warmly "Everyone who stands in these woods with us is here because they are supposed to be," she said comfortingly, and the girl relaxed visibly. She continued "It is you, little moonling, who I did not expect to see again so soon. What brings you back to me?" She asked, running her hands over the girl's shoulders affectionately and looking more than anything like she wanted to pick her up and hold her.
The child looked back towards her brother and called his name, beckoning him towards them. He rose uncertainly, and took hesitant steps over to them. When he reached her side the girl took her hand in his, and the centaur woman ran her other hand over his head and through his hair assessingly. The girl was tentative and quiet when she finally spoke up "Can you help us? Can you tell what's wrong?" She asked with desperation thick in her little voice.
After a few moments of anxious silence, the woman finally nodded "You were right to bring him to me, my dear one, I can help you finish what you started," she said definitively, and both children exclaimed joyously and beamed with delight. She scooped them both up one under each arm with an unexpected strength, and trotted back into her hut without a word or glance back at any of the rest of them.
"Is that- should we go with them?" Weasley asked him a moment later, and the large and particularly mean black stallion turned angry eyes on the boy "Were you invited to join them? As we speak they wield potent magic, and distractions could render their efforts fruitless. Play with the other children if you must amuse yourself while they work their spells," he huffed rudely, before flicking his tail and trotting away. The boy blushed and looked down at the ground, and Severus itched to defend his student. Not wanting to risk them being expelled from the village while two of his young charges were still occupied there, he could only grimace and pat Weasley's shoulder as comfortingly as he could. Which wasn't much, and felt rather awkward.
As the rest of the centaurs went back to their evening business, he encouraged the boys to help out in what ways they could. The centaur children had simple tasks, cleaning out the carved wooden dishes they had used for their dinner and sweeping up around the cooking fires. Weasley helped out happily enough, and the Longbottom boy looked like he wanted to help but wasn't sure exactly how to. His godson however, though he knew better than to act like a brat out here and risk their welcome, clearly had no desire to dirty his perfectly manicured princely little hands. He grumbled under his breath for the boy to get over himself or he'd become intimately familiar with scouring cauldrons by hand for the next month straight when they returned to the castle. That certainly got him moving.
Time passed and the evening grew late. A half hour, then an hour, then finally an hour and a half, and Severus began to become worried that they might be in for a significantly longer excursion than he had planned for. There were altogether too many things to discuss and learn about from their new friends for him to possibly become bored, but the school's curfew was approaching and he had five first year students out of bed. It wouldn't be a good look for him if he didn't have them back soon.
Just as he was really starting to become concerned the girl exited the hut in her wolf form, fur brown, eyes silver, and enormous. Tipping her head back she let out a howl that rumbled through his very bones. He wasn't sure how, but he knew for certain that it conveyed a sense of celebration. Whatever they had spent all that time doing had been successful apparently, because following her out of the hut was the centaur woman and behind her came another huge wolf with black fur and green eyes.