Chapter 9: Be Careful, It's My Heart
Clancy had never seen Severus Snape in action. The Dueling Club was a revelation. When Snape used the Disarming Spell to knock Lockhart flat on his backside, he disarmed Clancy's heart at the same time.
She did not understand most of what happened that evening -- the evil black snake menacing the Potter boy or Potter's speech in a foreign, hissing language or why everyone else was so shocked. One thing stood out in her mind: Severus Snape was supremely competent.
Confident in his abilities, masterfully controlling the situation, Snape showed a side of himself that astonished her. Snape became, in Clancy's mind, positively Cyranoesque. He possessed the intellect, the courage, and the wit. The most striking similarity however, was as plain as the nose on Snape's face. She even imagined him composing poetry, though she did not relish hearing him recite it in his irritating voice.
Her relationship with Snape improved, somewhat. They exchanged brief nods when they happened to pass in the corridor, yet neither made an attempt to find a seat next to the other at meals. Still, Clancy began entertaining romantic notions about him. She concluded that only a miracle could correct his faults, but this had been a most unusual year, so perhaps, miracles were not out of the question.
Over the term break, Professor Dumbledore summoned Snape to his office. "I have an assignment for you, Severus," Dumbledore began.
"Yes, Headmaster. What is it you wish for me to do?"
"I am deeply concerned, as we all are, about the Chamber of Secrets, specifically, the recent instances of violence."
"Has there been another incident?" Snape asked, alarmed.
"No, not since the attack on Justin Finch-Fletchley. It is my responsibility, however, to keep Hogwarts safe for students and faculty alike, which brings me to the subject of Miss Norgard."
"Her -- again? What now? I've done as you requested."
"The heir of Slytherin has been targeting Muggle-born students. Miss Norgard is also a Muggle. As a precaution, I would like to ensure that she is protected. I've selected you to look after her."
"Haven't I enough to do watching out for Potter?" Snape asked, annoyed.
"We've all been watching out for Harry. Each of us, in his own way, has a duty to perform," Dumbledore reproved.
"Couldn't you assign someone else to look out for her?"
Dumbledore heaved a sigh of resignation. "Very well, Severus. I can see that you're more than a little reluctant. I do appreciate all the sacrifices you've made for Hogwarts over the years. Perhaps I am asking too much. I'll assign Gilderoy, then."
"LOCKHART!" Snape bellowed. "You're joking!"
"I assure you, I am not. The rest of the staff is preoccupied with other tasks. Gilderoy is the only one available."
"And who, might I ask, will protect Lockhart while he is supposedly protecting the choir teacher?" Snape probed. "Never mind. I've reconsidered. What will my duties entail?"
"I would like you to escort Miss Norgard to her room each night and ward her door. Then, each morning, remove the ward and escort her to breakfast. That's all. I have warned her to stay near her classroom, only leaving to visit the classes she regularly observes."
"I was not aware that she was observing classes," Snape said, mildly surprised.
"She has been doing so for some time. She's trying very hard to adjust to our ways," Dumbledore explained.
Snape repeated the directive to be sure he understood. "You expect nothing more of me than warding her door and escorting her to and from her room?"
"Correct, unless something else should occur to you."
"I can't imagine that it would."
"Neither can I, Severus," Dumbledore said, slowly shaking his head. "To a large extent, that is the core of your problem."
Snape began his duties that very evening. After dinner, he followed Clancy out of the Great Hall, catching up with her at the foot of the main staircase.
"Miss Norgard?" Snape mumbled, in what he hoped would pass for a gracious tone.
"Yes, Professor Snape?"
"I was wondering how much you've heard regarding the Chamber of Secrets."
"Only that two students have been attacked -- petrified, or something. That news has been all over the school. Students are gossiping that Harry Potter is involved," Clancy told him. "Ever since I came here, no one has seemed eager to tell me much of anything. I still don't know why the Potter boy is famous."
"Frankly, neither do I," Snape sneered, before saying, "The headmaster has asked me to escort you to and from your rooms for the time being, to keep you safe."
"Professor Dumbledore advised me not to wander around the castle alone, but he was rather vague about why. Am I in danger?"
"We don't know for certain," Snape answered, as they started to climb the stairs, "but both attacks were on Muggle-borns."
"I see. I appreciate your interest in my safety, Professor Snape. It's very kind of you," Clancy said, encouraged by his sudden concern.
"I understand that you've been informally observing classes. Why is it that you've never visited mine?"
"Would I have been welcome?"
"Must you always answer a question with a question?"
"You mean, as you just did?"
Snape frowned. "To address your initial question, no, you wouldn't have been welcome."
"Then, why ask a question to which you already know the answer?"
They continued on, in silence. When they arrived at Clancy's door, she said flatly, "Good night, Professor Snape."
"Good night, Miss Norgard," Snape replied, with an equally dull intonation.
She closed the door. Snape warded it, and skulked down to the dungeons like a great, brooding bat.
Just when Clancy thought Snape's attitude toward her might be changing, he had demeaned her again! She paced the room, barely able to control her rage. The curse of PMS was upon her once more, and Snape had been just the catalyst to set it off.
Her eyes fell upon the picture that hung above her bed. Inside the frame, two elderly witches were seated at a small table. They generally gossiped, sipped tea, or took long naps. Clancy's restless stomping had awakened them, and they glared at her disapprovingly.
As February approached, the weather began to thaw the remains of winter's ice. The sun managed to peep through the heavy clouds, but not enough to remove the chill that existed between the Potions master and the Choir Director. Their daily discourse was confined to morning and evening salutations.
The 14th of February began as an average day. Snape escorted Clancy in stony silence down to the Great Hall. Before they could go their separate ways, Gilderoy Lockhart pounced on them, bursting with good cheer. He was adorned in flowing robes of bright pink.
"Good morning! Good morning! Happy Valentine's Day! How do you like my little surprise?" Lockhart asked, pointing to the heart-shaped confetti falling from the ceiling.
Clancy looked around the room. The walls were decorated with garish pink flowers that perfectly matched Lockhart's robes.
"Well, it's certainly different," she had to admit.
Snape, looking as though he'd just swallowed a host of glumbumbles, brushed past them and proceeded to the High Table.
A short time later, Lockhart's second surprise appeared: a band of sour-faced dwarves dressed as cherubs. Sporting tiny golden wings and carrying harps, they trudged about the castle throughout the day delivering musical valentines to students and staff.
Clancy found half a dozen valentine greetings on her desk, all in the form of four-lined poems. Fortunately, none had been delivered by a grouchy, singing Cupid. Reading through them, she had to smile. A few people at Hogwarts were thinking of her, even if the one she was thinking about was not among them.
She still found herself strangely attracted to Snape. There was so much mystery to the man, the biggest mystery of all being what she saw in him. His manners were deplorable, his looks, frightening. He either insulted her or refused to speak to her altogether. Yet, something made her want to break through that icy façade to see what lay beneath -- and, those tiny black buttons down the length of his frock coat were driving her absolutely mad!
In spite of Lockhart's foolishness, Clancy had a very pleasant day. When it was time to retire for the evening, she awaited Snape at the foot of the main staircase, as was their custom.
"Did you enjoy your Valentine's Day, Professor Snape?" Clancy asked, half expecting him to ignore her question.
"No more or less than any other day. Why do you ask?"
"I was curious to know if you'd received any valentines, or if you'd sent any of your own."
"Who would send me a valentine? None of the staff sends them, with the exception of that idiot, Lockhart. As for my students, they loathe me as much as I loathe them."
"That's very sad, really. Most people derive pleasure from making others happy."
"The premise of Valentine's Day was conceived only to make confectioners and flower peddlers happy -- by lining their pockets."
"How cynical you are, Professor Snape," Clancy observed.
"Did you receive any valentines?" Snape inquired idly.
"Yes. Two from faculty and a few from students."
"Really? Two from faculty, did you say? Do share them with me, won't you?" Snape said with vitriol.
"Very well," she agreed, reaching into her bag. "Here's one."
"She walks in beauty like the night
This songbird fair and tragic
She needs a smile to light her way
From an expert, in all things magic"
"Lockhart, of course," Snape said with disgust. "The first line isn't too bad, but the rest is rubbish."
"He stole the first line from Byron."
"I suppose even Muggle poets display talent, occasionally."
"Here's another."
"Years and metres so divide
That she cannot respond
But, sweetest magic often sparks
From the oldest wand"
"Flitwick?"
Clancy nodded.
"Well, it seems that even you are capable of making a small conquest."
"What do you mean by, 'even you'?" Clancy demanded.
"Nothing, really. I imagine a few plainer women exist."
Clancy glared at Snape. Snape responded to her ire with a wry smile. "If I were of an inclination to wax poetic, I could do so at will, without the need of quill or parchment," he boasted.
"You're prepared to prove this?"
"Of course. Still, I never accept a challenge without presenting one of my own: You, witless girl, must respond in kind."
"You set yourself up for defeat," Clancy replied confidently.
"Do you prefer your poetry flattering or truthful?" Snape asked.
"I'll make this easy for you -- truthful. I suspect you're incapable of flattery."
"I am capable of a great many things, Miss Norgard, of which you are unaware. And, I will rhyme both couplets of my quatrain, instead of merely two. I will begin with the truth."
"A minx, devoid of intellect
She should give up her struggle
It falls to me to thus protect
This helpless, wretched Muggle"
"Conceited," Clancy disparaged. "Now, here's one for you."
"A kindness or a courtesy
Will never pass his lips
This sourpuss, the face that launched
A thousand cutting quips"
"You only rhymed two lines."
"I never agreed to that part of the challenge!" Clancy responded angrily. "And, I'm still waiting for your flattering poem."
Snape began:
"Shrillness rings from her refrains
She'd look quite well beheaded
Yet, this one truth fast remains:
She needs to be well bedded"
Clancy sputtered, blushing the same shade of pink as Lockhart's robes. "If ... if that's your idea of flattery, I clearly win the challenge!" she told Snape.
"Not until I evaluate your offering. You will need to produce a better example."
"Easily done. But remember, this is only an illustration," she told him, attempting to convince them both of the lie. "Here it is."
"His wit and style bewitches me
Yet, I dare not confess it
My heart is his for all to see
If he could only guess it"
Snape stood for a long while in silence, his eyes narrowed. Clancy could not read his mood. Was he angry, bewildered, or merely lost in thought? At last, he said, "I concede the challenge. Good night, Miss Norgard."
"Have you nothing further to say?" she asked softly.
He cleared his throat, then added, "It ... scanned quite well."
"Good NIGHT, Professor Snape!" Clancy shouted, slamming her door. The impact jostled the portrait of the old maid witches, causing them to spill their tea.