The walls had darkened completely, night was upon him like a rubber band. Snape was sulking in his classroom, lining words as if he was creating a work of art.
He hesitated for a flash, delaying senses of his tired desk, his work, and faced the wall opposite him. It grew colder and more rugged under his attention, yet the reflected light of two fires scorched his face over the distance. The elements bounced about him and the cold and the heat were in battle, it seemed. Sometimes the one reached him, sometimes the other. In the hour passing he carried on with his doodling, afraid.
He turned in at dawn. On his way up the staircase he detected a cold unrest, something he would ascribe a ghost were it not so spread out over the castle, reaching all the way to the Entrance Hall, which he had passed on the way. The fires were steady in their brackets, he tossed aside a piece of parchment and a bundle of feathers.
Up in his room there was silence. His blankets were cold, the table uncluttered. The pressing sunlight of early dawn gave no warmth and despite settling towards sleep with plenty on his mind, Severus lingered in the waking world thinking only of the sun, and its qualities.
The morning beat him heavily in the chest, as it forced him out of the fraction of sleep he required. The alarm bell was tinkling and the wind was audible now. He might even have heard students, he always listened after them. Reaching with his hand as he got up he managed the ungraceful transition to his table, used for a multitude of purposes and never failing him. There he sat in hunch for four hours, scribbling pre-described things, his mind's work for the entire week, quoting himself.
He had business all over the castle and he jerked on clothes without magic, adding muggle trousers to his robes, allowing himself to be worn by gloves and a short jacket.
Students were everywhere- in classrooms, hallways, corners and windows. He noted some louts clotting around a main character of theirs, performing tricks, jesting for them. He strode through some narrow archways leaking into the third floor corridor, avoiding the center of the castle, followed by great windows all the way.
“Alivestra!” He sealed up a whole in the wall with a flick but then pocketed the wand into his back pocket, deciding to let it settle there for the day. He never hardly used his wands on Sundays, it was the aftermath of Saturdays after all and they always, unfailingly, produced a bold distaste for magic in him. In light of this he worried whether anyone was keeping track of him, of his movements, and had long ago discovered that he was mostly absent on Saturdays. He always popped back at odd times to throw people off the burning scent, that ought to be enough for the slow mind.
Who would make inquiries about him? Would anyone, who was not already so engrossed in the power struggle between the Dark Lord and the honorable wizards that they already knew where he journeyed to?
____
“Severus, ah, I see you have surfaced! Did you by any chance happen upon that great cluster of guinea pigs scuttling about the forth floor?”
“No, Headmaster. “
“Well, then, I won't keep you away from your duties, I will see you this afternoon.”
Severus nodded in reply and resumed his step, reaching his target that was Flitwick's office in only a few strides. He knocked on the door with calm and stepped in after he was welcomed. The office was bathing in mint, some of Flitwick's home cooking. The professor was watering his songbirds, traipsing around the room in a brilliant dressing robe, thick like a carpet. Severus settled himself on a tiny stool and crossed his legs, remembering to remove his wand before it was crushed.
The old man turned suddenly with incredible haste to stare at him, peering through green, watery eyes.
“Have you come with the Emala potion you pledged me some week ago?”
Severus moved his feet.
“No, I have not. It is not ready.”
At his words Filius softened and resumed his usual posture. He clambered up to his highest shelf to finish of the watering, rocking his nose at a handsome peackock of modest size and green coat. Then he turned round a second time.
“How is the progress?” he said in hushed tones.
“It is well, I have finished up the greenhouses. The castle has never been more well-protected.”
Filius stepped down and slouched into his armchair. He wore his head on his shoulders like a man preparing to crawl.
“Never would I dream that plants could bring such magic to be. I take this very seriously, as I have told you, this is unchartered territory.” He prepared himself for some serious reflection and Severus did not stop him, he leaned back on the stool and drew his first deep breath of the day.
Rustling as thought to get up, Severus made Filius politely aware of the present and tried to secure eye contact.
“You know I came to inform you of a suspicious hole by the tapestry of Don Weir, the way it was carved left me uncertain as to which spell might have caused it, I thought you might want to have a look.” Filius lifted one of his heavy eye-lids.
“Ooh, I shall, you never know!”
The door was swung open without the need of wands and Severus carried on to secure his missions of the day, collecting ingredients in the Forbidden Forests and picking up a clock for Dumbledore in Hogsmeade.
_____
The meeting was in full bloom, all the Professors along with some intimidated and cautious prefects were seated around a table in the staff room, the former gesturing and expressing emotions to rich to be uttered in anything other than yelps, shouts and booming half-sentences. They were debating emergencies, silent, creeping emergencies as professor Flitwick had during the day discovered a connection of unsettling attempts at penetrating the castle of Hogwarts, the confides of which they all depended on, some of them with their lives.
Albus Dumbledore settled the matter by rising, and sweeping over them all with an embracing hand.
“There, there, we are all safe for tonight, as I know you understand. Tomorrow we shall work together to stitch up the final pieces of our understanding and protection of beloved Hogwarts. I suggest we give the students a much needed day of for revision.” He blinked and lowered his head.
“Now, we must get some sleep. Goodnight to you all!”
Severus stayed on as the others lined out of the room, slightly comforted. Dumbledore waited for him by the window, his pale hands clasping each other almost as in prayer.
“Here is your clock, Headmaster.” Severus waited as Dumbledore had.
“I am greatly disturbed by your dealings with the ministry. I must beg you to take a respite from interfering on those levels. I mean this Severus... however, if you wish to study the archives or any of the rooms in the Department of Mysteries you have my permission to do so.. undetected, of course.”
Severus did not flinch.
“Yes, headmaster.”
Now lit by starlight, as he had edged ever closer to the window, Dumbledore put his hands on Severus's shoulder and amended with strength:
“You will not postpone your meeting with Remus Lupin. Have you seen him at all this month?
“No.”
“I would think not. There is nothing you can say to make me change my mind, Severus. He will be invited to come here to teach. He will be safe here, and we will make sure he leaves us according to our influence, we will beat the curse to the punch, as we do each year!”
Severus counted himself as defeated and headed for the door, shuffling with heavy steps.
“Oh, and Severus! Please remind him that his favorite nephew will be joining us next year. You know how he has been suffering from not being able to visit Harry Potter. Goodnight, Severus.”
Winning a Professor by ejoemily
Story Notes:
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