Monday 9 January 1984
Severus Snape was late for breakfast because of an owl from the parents of one of his first year charges. He walked quickly into the Great Hall, his black robes billowing behind him.
Albus Dumbledore was tucking into a bowl of corn flakes; white grains of sugar were falling from his spoon onto his long white beard.
Minerva McGonagall was drinking a steaming cup of what he assumed was tea. He’d learned last winter, when he’d accidently picked up the wrong cup, that the witch drank hot toddies in the colder months. He’d been slightly shocked at his discovery. She’d always seemed too much a prude to drink”much less at breakfast.
The witch acknowledged him with a crisp nod of the head.
The Potions master looked out over his Slytherins before filling a bowl with oatmeal. He had a twinge behind his eyes.
Oh joy, a headache brewing.
He was relieved that Dumbledore hadn’t turned to speak with him during breakfast; it was a relief to eat in peace for once.
The bell rang to indicate the beginning of the school day. Students rushed past him in a cacophony of noise. A student barreled into him as he walked around a corner. The twinge became a full-blown headache.
“Five points from Ravenclaw for running into a teacher,” Severus snapped. He instantly regretted his too loud voice. This was definitely going to be a day that tested him. His first two classes were first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, to be followed by seventh year Slytherins and Gryffindors.
The first years now had several months’ brewing experience. He’d had half a dozen cauldrons explode in this class over the past week. The young witches and wizards didn’t realize how often their professor had kept them from a major disaster. They needed a firm hand and hawk-eyed supervision, even if they mistook these for chastisement and unnecessary strictness. The need for his constant vigilance was getting old very fast.
The next class started with Snape’s headache causing him to feel nauseous. As the students lighted the fires under their cauldrons, the bright flare nearly caused him to wince. Only his self discipline and years of self-preservation kept him from dropping to his chair. He’d never suffered these excruciating headaches as a student.
Never let the bastards see that something is wrong.
With a wave of his wand, the Potions master put the instructions for the Amortentia potion the students would be attempting to brew on the blackboard. Another wave of his wand opened the supply cabinet.
“The ingredients are in the cupboard.”
How many times over the past two and a half years have I said that? he wondered wearily.
The class stared mutely at him.
“Well?” he asked sharply. “You only have two hours.”
The witches and wizards scrambled to the cupboard. Most of his pupils quickly returned to their places and spread their ingredients out, leaving his cupboard in a jumble. He wanted to hex them for their carelessness.
Snape was pleased that his Slytherins began to work immediately. He knew what to expect from his students by now”both the good and the bad. Some, like McNair's younger sister Cordelia, watched him closely”too closely. He wished he was free to use his Legilimency on them, because he was certain they were questioned by his former companions in the Death Eaters about just what he was doing at Hogwarts.
He watched two Gryffindor boys huddle together and whisper furtively. Instinct kicked in, and Snape’s keen ears caught the barely audible words, “Let’s keep some and slip it in Cornelia’s pumpkin juice at lunch.”
The boys glanced back at the buxom Gryffindor girl two tables behind them and laughed rudely.
Oh, I don't think so, the Potions master thought.
Snape periodically prowled the classroom and corrected some students, but did not place particular attention on the two boys. In his opinion, those two illustrated everything that was wrong with Gryffindors. They consistently challenged him in class, caused enmity between Houses, and bitterly complained about “the bat of the dungeons” to anyone who would listen.
He noticed the beguiling scent of lilies rise from Brown and Gimbel's cauldron”her scent, Lily's scent, rose from four of the cauldrons in his classroom. The odor pulled at his broken heart.
“You have five minutes to bottle your potion and clean up,” he said in a bored drawl.
Each of his students bottled a vial and took it to his desk. Snape watched as the students emptied their cauldrons and cleaned their work areas. All, that was, but Brown and Gimbel; they waited until Snape’s view was blocked. With untoward speed, Brown ladled some of their remaining potion into a small bottle and slipped the container into Gimbel’s robes. Nigel Brown had taken a second vial from his pocket when their professor pounced.
“Brown and Gimbel, turn out your pockets,” Snape hissed.
They hadn’t reckoned with a man whose survival had depended on not missing clues, no matter how subtle. The entire class heard the Potions master’s tone and fell silent. They turned as one to stare at Brown and Gimbel. Startled, the two students tried to look innocent.
“S-sir?” Gimbel asked, gulping deeply.
“Turn...out...your...pockets,” Snape ordered quietly. His head felt like it would explode from the pain at any moment.
“You can’t ask us to do that,” Brown argued.
The remainder of the class stood mutely; none of them wanted to have Snape’s ire, much less his tongue, fall on them.
“You will turn out your pockets or face the consequences,” he said, more calmly than he felt. Arrogant little bastards. “Perhaps you like the idea of spending the remainder of your final year in detention? Keep up this attitude, and that is what the two of you are getting.”
“Professor Dumble”” Brown began, only to be interrupted by his teacher.
“Why don’t the three of us visit the headmaster’s office?” he suggested dangerously.
Brown’s face turned a livid red, while Gimbel paled considerably”he was easily led astray by his friend.
“Nigel, just turn out your pockets,” one of the other Gryffindors cried out.
“Silence!” the Potions master snapped menacingly. One oily strand of hair caught on his hooked nose.
Gryffindor as well as Slytherin students all froze upon hearing Snape’s deathly quiet voice.
Nigel stormed to the classroom door and flung it open with an echoing bang. A terrified Gimbel meekly left the room ahead of his professor.
As the trio neared Dumbledore’s office, Professor McGonagall stepped off the moving stairway. Snape could see by the expression on her face that she was surprised to see two members of Gryffindor being lead by the head of Slytherin.
“Professor Snape, is there a problem?” she asked, casting a disgruntled glance at Brown and Gimbel.
“These two have flaunted the rules and hidden vials of the Amortentia potion in their robe pockets. They are well aware of the rules concerning the removal of potions without permission. They were going to place it in another student’s pumpkin juice at lunch. Furthermore, they have refused to turn out their pockets.”
“Is this true?” the witch demanded of the two teenagers.
Gimbel meekly handed the illicit vial to Professor McGonagall. He squirmed nervously while Brown wore a steely countenance of defiance and strong dislike for his Potions professor. Severus didn’t give a rat’s spleen if they liked him or not. Their opinion of him did not matter in the least.
“Anyone who thinks they can slip a bit of the Amortentia potion into the glass of a classmate will find themselves in detention for the remainder of the time they have at Hogwarts,” Snape said with a dangerously quiet voice. Severus found a perverse pleasure in the fact that that Gimbel was close to wetting his robes.
McGonagall’s eyes flashed angrily. “What have you two to say for yourselves?”
“We didn’t think,” Gimbel said meekly, “taking one tiny vial would be a problem.”
“You didn’t think it would be a problem? I am ashamed that two Gryffindors would act so irresponsibly.”
With a snarl Snape said, “Don’t you think such irresponsibly requires detention every day for the remainder of the year?”
“We’ll miss Quidditch practice!” Gimbel appealed to their Head of House.
“The next game is against Slytherin!” Brown added as his cockiness collapsed like a deflating balloon.
“You’ll be missing the game! You should have thought of that when you decided to take a potion out of the dungeons,” Snape said viciously.
“The two of you will be disappointing the remainder of Gryffindor because of your reckless actions,” Professor McGonagall said tersely. "Professor Snape warned you about removing potions from his classroom, and you will pay the price for your folly!"
The two teenagers glanced resentfully at the Potions master.
“Shouldn’t you two be in Charms? Away with you,” his fellow Head of House said as she shooed them away.
The two professors watched the two young wizards turn the corner.
“Don’t look so smug, Severus. It’s only because it’s your birthday that I’m agreeing that they should have detention”but five months is too much,” she said, tilting her head to look up at Snape.
She opened the vial and smelled. "Oh, whisky!"
Snape frowned as the delicate fragrance of stargazer lilies overwhelmed him again.
His throat was thick when he said, “I’ll not accept less than two months, ma’am.”
"Done," the Transfigurations professor agreed. Minerva gave him a thin smile. “You’re my colleague, Severus. It really is about time for you to call me Minerva.”
The Potions master walked back to the dungeons with a feeling he couldn’t place. A grain of pleasure had managed to burrow its way through the thick tar that coated his heart.
Damnable Words by talloakslady
Chapter Endnotes: Many thanks to Cecelle for her beta work.