christmasspirit (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
christmasspirit) wrote2021-11-14 04:26 am
christmasspirit) wrote2021-11-14 04:26 am
Entry tags:
- beginnings,
- blaise zabini,
- carnivorous calendula,
- carol carmichael,
- christmas spirit au,
- draco malfoy,
- edgar martins,
- ella wilkins,
- fanfic,
- flora carrow,
- harper hutchinson,
- harry potter,
- head girl drama,
- healing glamour,
- hermione granger,
- hogwarts,
- hogwarts eighth year,
- lavender brown,
- muscle mender,
- padma patil,
- pain relieving salve,
- post-war,
- potions,
- potions class,
- prefecthood,
- ron weasley,
- second term,
- severus snape,
- sheldon shafiq,
- slight angst,
- slytherins,
- the effects of lycanthrope attacks,
- theo nott,
- torsten touchstone,
- tracey davis,
- winter
"interconnected part 5" by gingerbred
Severus Snape, Slytherins: Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, Theo Nott, Torsten Touchstone, Harper Hutchinson, Ella Wilkins, Gryffindors: Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, Lavender Brown, Ravenclaws: Padma Patil, Edgar Martins, Carol Carmichael
Mentioned briefly: Staff: Hermione Granger, Slytherins: Tracey Davis, Flora Carrow, Sheldon Shafiq
04 January, 1999. Double Potions with the seventh and eighth years. Severus' joy knows no bounds. Tor and Ron are doing little better.
Originally Published: 2021-11-14 on LJ / DW
Words: 7 k
Rating: Mature
Characters: Severus Snape (Deputy Headmaster, Head of Slytherin, Potions Master, and a great deal happier of late),
Slytherins: Blaise Zabini (8S, highly intrigued by the duality of Lavender's nature), Draco Malfoy (8S, Prefect, Captain, Seeker, Potter's), Theo Nott (8S, Hestia's), Torsten 'Tor' Touchstone (7S, heir to the Touchstone potions fortune), Harper Hutchinson (7S, Prefect, Chaser), Ella Wilkins (7S, Prefect),
Gryffindors: Ron Weasley Ron Weasley (8G, Prefect, Lavender's ex, ex-Keeper, presently seeing Demelza), Harry Potter (8G, Captain, Seeker, Draco's), Lavender Brown (8G, Prefect, no longer Ron's bit on the side (or anywhere else), she's begun seeing a certain Slytherin instead),
Ravenclaws: Padma Patil (8R, Head Girl), Edgar Martins (7R, Prefect), Carol Carmichael (7R, Prefect)
Mentioned briefly: Staff: Hermione Granger (recent Hogwarts graduate and Transfiguration apprentice), Slytherins: Tracey Davis (8S), Flora Carrow (7S, studious but sadly guilt-ridden twin), Sheldon Shafiq (7S, Beater, flirt)
The previouslies are very robust. If you've recently read the Christmas Spirit stories, skip them, if not, no worries, I've got you covered. You can find a links to the individual stories / chapters in the "christmas spirit index" (LJ / DW / AO3).
While fooling around with Hestia a couple of weeks ago, Theo forgets himself - and more crucially the Trace on his wand - and casts a Restraining Spell, the Aurors appear and try to arrest him. Adding insult to injury, the don't allow him to get dressed first, electing to parade him in the altogether past his Housemates instead. Mentioned in ACoCE 4b
Growing restless with the restrictions being a student entails, a situation exacerbated by her (at the time) unreciprocated infatuation with a certain member of staff, Hermione sits her N.E.W.T.s early and accepts a Transfiguration apprenticeship at the school. Over the holidays, with some initial help from the Bloody Baron, Peeves, some Whiz-bangs and a bunch of magical mistletoe, she rather unexpectedly embarks on a relationship with Severus. CS
Blaise decides that there might be some fun to be had in showing Weasel up in front of Lavender. Interconnected 3 He then promptly forgets all about his cunning plan and spends most of double Charms... otherwise occupied. Interconnected 4
Thinking Blaise has sent Theo and Flora to fetch the library books she has on the topic of the Healing Glamour, and crushed by his lack of faith in her skills, Lavender turns the books over to the two Slytherins when they ask her for them. She then proceeds to give Blaise a piece of her mind about it, but he's able to clear things up to her... satisfaction and promises to have them return the books. Interconnected 4
Stifling a wistful sigh, Lavender watches Blaise's buttocks shift beneath his robe as he exits the Charms classroom before her. It's a glorious sight; such a pity his cloak obscures as much as it does from view... Personally she's always felt the boys' uniforms were a good deal more flattering than the girls' skirts. If she should ever need to debate the point, she'll submit Blaise's arse in evidence.
She has the next period free, her favourite Slytherin does not, meaning she won't see him until lunch. It's a bit of a surprise to realise she'll miss him. That realisation at least prepares her slightly for the reduction in productivity she experiences the next hour as she somewhat listlessly attempts to do some homework, as well as the preponderance of little hearts with his initials that will adorn her notebook by lunch. Hmm.
Well that's what Notice-Me-Nots were for.
"Theo, hold on a moment, would you?" Blaise calls after his roommate. "I need a word," he adds, hopeful to get the small matter of Lavender's books sorted before they arrive in Potions. Worst case, he's confident he'll have managed it by lunch. There's an exceptionally attractive witch he means not to disappoint.
Potions Classroom
Monday morning illustrates rather neatly much of what Severus has long hated about his job. In his first class, double Potions, the students had caused a mess that had proven highly resistant to removal, so resistant, in fact, that it was still dripping from the ceiling onto the Protego he'd only just managed to get into place before a number of his pupils would have otherwise received serious burns. Splendid. Accordingly, four of the little blighters will be seeing to his cauldrons this afternoon, cheers. The double hour, reserved exclusively for practical applications and actual brewing, was always the worst after a break. Ordinarily he'd have given them something comparatively harmless to ease them back into the subject, for his sake nearly as much as theirs; thanks to Minerva's new curriculum, that was no longer possible. They'll have trouble enough covering everything she's asking them to, wasting a lesson warming them up simply wasn't an option anymore. No, if he's honest, he has no idea how they can be expected to complete the material as is. Improving the situation not in the slightest, there were more than enough people just waiting for him to fail, and to make matters worse yet, he had nowhere else to go. Hogwarts was his home. The only one he's known for the better portion of his life.
Of course now that Hermione had committed to spending the next three years - at least - at the school, to be fair there was nowhere else he wanted to go. Which means the pressure to succeed has just intensified. Bugger. There's some irony that he feels it more acutely now than he had when serving in his role as a double agent and fifth columnist. Presumably the sheer volume of potentially life-threatening distractions at the time had kept his attention focused elsewhere, though.
Well, if swish came to flick, Minerva would probably still see her way clear to trying to fight to keep him - he should bloody well hope so as the issues were largely down to her changes - but even he's noticed he's her deputy in name only, and that's despite being unable to claim he'd taken much of an active interest. No, there was no denying that she doesn't generally consult him when making her decisions. As a matter of fact, she was far more likely to seek Filius' counsel... Of course there are advantages to that, no question, to not having to take action, make decisions or even give running the school much thought - he'd just as soon never think about that ever again - but it doesn't change Severus' present lack of real significance. That could give rise to difficulties under inopportune circumstances... Hmm.
Obviously a fair portion of the overall problem also lay in public perception. That had been only too evident. The people that had expected him to change radically at the end of the war - idiocy abounds - had been thoroughly mistaken, and the Order of Merlin (first class) had incongruously only served to exacerbate the issue. Bizarrely, quite, there were too many who'd romanticised him in the wake of the publicity from the trials. Just as his often surly and exceedingly sarcastic nature didn't diminish his accomplishments, neither did those accomplishments help make him substantially more pleasant. How perfectly ludicrous the notion. His nature remained largely unchanged. Naturally.
That was received about as well as could be expected.
Had Severus been comatose for a shorter time after the war or not occupied with battling for his continued freedom - both of which had proven inordinately time consuming - he'd have managed those expectations better, he is sure, but as was... It was patently absurd to think he'd suddenly enjoy teaching more, but as his options had been severely curtailed by the Wisengamot's investigations and the Daily Prophet's ridiculous coverage of the same, he simply hadn't any other options. And so here he was.
Teaching. Again.
Potions.
Again.
He's merely under less stress. Or would be, were it not for Minerva's modified curriculum and the fact he's stuck compensating for Horace's assorted failings. After two straight years of his colleague's tutelage, Severus has often found the students' skills... wanting.
The seventh and eighth year class, specifically, is especially trying. The seventh years once again count students amongst their number whom Severus would never have admitted to N.E.W.T.s Potions to begin with - so frightfully considerate of Horace - and then they hadn't even completed the sixth year course before advancing to the seventh. Combining their class with the eighth years'... Singly they had each already been oversubscribed for the material - his was by no means a particularly safe course of study, supervision was crucial - and by individuals often underqualified at that, together... Merlin's beard. He's never had so many students in a class before - no Potions Instructor had - and certainly never in a N.E.W.T.s class. Idiocy. Evidently without sparing a single thought for advisability, the Board of Governors had proceeded to mix a group who hadn't covered a substantial portion of the foreyear's material with students who (despite also including Potter and Weasley, neither of whom had met his prerequisites for the course, either) were now covering much of the material for the second time. Subsequently a fair portion had a tendency to be bored and inattentive, all too often distracting others in the process, and much of the rest were clearly out of their depth. Anyone who thought that was a good idea was a dunderhead of the first water. But then that's the Board in a nutshell, cheers. It was a bit of glaring stupidity, and expanding the curriculum concomitantly only compounded the problems, guaranteeing the worst N.E.W.T.s results ever, Severus is sure. At this point, further obstacles hardly come as a surprise, however, and he can always brew Snape's Stomach Soother as required for the knot in his belly; a man of his skill hardly need resort to any of that Touchstone's Tummy Toughening Tonic rot...
To be fair, all of that's still - marginally - less stressful than managing Albus and Voldemort simultaneously, so there's that. Small mercies. But without the need to maintain a cover, to be seen to favour the purebloods... Coupled with the demands of the more challenging course material, it meant instead of mellowing, if anything Severus has become stricter with all of his students. From time to time, the fact that leaves absolutely no one in his Slytherins' camp occurs to him, but after the ordeals of the last years, and the bitterness they'd given rise to, even that rarely succeeds in moderating his behaviour.
Case in point, Zabini is proving exceptionally annoying today, exceedingly eager to answer questions - asked and not - apparently endeavouring to be nearly as much of an insufferable Know-It-All as Hermione ever was now the position is vacant. And that without any of the witch's highly redeeming charms, it should go without saying. Although presumably for the best - that would be odd - it certainly makes the Slytherin no easier to stomach. If the boy persists, Severus is seriously considering taking points from his own House. But then it won't be the first time this class alone.
On the plus side, however, this is the first lesson with Hermione's erstwhile classmates since Severus has begun seeing the witch. He'd have to allow to being pleasantly surprised by the absence of snide remarks, particularly from Weasley's and Potter's quarter. Primarily, he suspects, because one requires an audience for said snark, and the two boys don't seem to be on speaking terms at present... It appears Weasley still hasn't managed to worm his way back into Potter's good graces after his... unfortunate... declarations when he'd first learnt of the relationship between Draco and Potter. Although to be completely fair, Severus is reasonably certain Potter is stayed from further aggravating the Potions Master in part by his relationship with Draco, small favours. Most of the rest of the class are Slytherins and Ravenclaws for obvious reasons. The Slytherins have come out in favour of Severus' relationship, evidently deeming it advantageous, and the Ravenclaws are generally smart enough to bite their tongues, although a few of the seventh years seem bound and determined to test that assertion...
Severus is prowling between the rows, watching his students prepare their ingredients with a gimlet eye. Looking at their mauled fingers - and of course this is precisely why of his own accord he'd never have them prepare the base for the Muscle Mender potion themselves - he can't help thinking how fortunate it is that the Carnivorous Calendula has healing properties as well. The question, of course, is if those will be adequate to the task. Looking at Touchstone's fingers, he suspects rather not.
Miss Wilkins keeps having to restrain herself from doing the chopping for the blundering boy. While Severus fully understands the impulse - Touchstone is exceedingly hard to watch - he wouldn't have hesitated to deduct points for that as well, but she's a good witch and gives him no cause. It strikes him, however, that she seems somewhat subdued overall today...
And there! Brilliant! Touchstone succeeds in allowing the Calendula to bite him so severely that Severus is required see to the wound.
Merlin's bloody beard.
Or hand, as the case may be.
This, this is precisely why he doesn't normally allow students who hadn't achieved an Outstanding on their O.W.L.s to take his N.E.W.T. Potions classes. In fact he's long held a suspicion that Horace had even encouraged the poor lad to take the class in view of the Touchstone family's excellent potions connections. The seventh year himself was generally sensible enough to know he hadn't the least talent for the subject...
His Muffliato assures that no one hears Severus singing the Vulnera Sanentur that soon has the wounds knitting closed - he still has some dignity, cheers - and that would ordinarily have been the end of it, except while he's preoccupied sorting the hapless potions heir, Ravenclaw Edgar Martins leaps to take advantage of the opportunity the distraction affords. Severus turns just in time to see little rotter send his Carnivorous Calendula winging after one of the seventh year girls, Miss Carmichael, the other Ravenclaw Prefect in Martins' year, presently being chased about the room by the intractable botanical and shrieking, joy of joys. One would think Touchstone's blood should have been clue enough that this isn't an ingredient to be trifled with, but no, and naturally the rest of the worthless tosspot's cronies are sat there laughing.
How perfectly droll.
One of these days someone will have to explain to him how he could ever have thought - even fleetingly - that teaching was anything like a remotely tolerable idea.
Martins... The boy had been noticeably more of a muppet since the beginning of the school year, coinciding rather neatly with his Uncle's assumption of the role of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It had been one of Shacklebolt's concessions to not being elected to his office of Minister, that he'd appointed someone to the key position who hadn't been a member of the Order, not unwise in itself, and Arthur and Doge certainly hadn't made good candidates for the job either. Unsurprisingly the Ravenclaw had gone with someone from his House, someone he knew from school days. What could be said with certainty is that the man hadn't been a Death Eater, and with equal certainty that there'd been not the least sign of him when it became necessary to fight them either. To Severus' thinking, Martins is a man with designs on the Minister's position, using the DMLE as a stepping stone, much like Thicknesse had, only Thicknesse had actually been qualified, at least for the DMLE role. Severus is convinced it was a tactical error on Shacklebolt's part, but that's neither here nor there at the moment. The question here was if the younger Martins had his uncle's backing, or if he was simply trying to suggest he did.
After the shameful deployment of the Aurors in the Slytherin dungeons shortly before Christmas - poor Nott; an example of gross overreach if Severus has ever seen it - he'd been waiting to see how things would play out once the session resumed.
Martins is clearly more emboldened than ever.
Severus had feared that would be the case. He means to shut this down immediately, experience shows it's practically an imperative, although the safety considerations alone were reason enough - discipline in his classroom has always been a vital concern - but just as he puts an end to his Privacy Charm in order to intervene, Miss Patil pips him to the post.
Perfect.
"Edgar, stop that immediately," comes her less than stellar opening volley, achieving bugger all.
Naturally, very, she repeats it, only louder.
That merely succeeds in provoking Martins to mouth off, "Shut it, Padma," assuming, most likely rightly, that she wouldn't take points from her own House even if she could take them from a fellow Prefect - so there's little cause for worry that she'll recommend for a teacher to do so - and of course she can hardly assign him detention... There's no indication whatsoever he means to stop and on top of Miss Carmichael's shrieks all it's done is succeeded in adding to the collective din. Cheers.
As Miss Patil rather predictably increases the volume yet again for her next gambit, brilliant, she taps the badge on her chest somewhat officiously for emphasis...
Which is point Severus finally registers the Head Girl badge that's replaced the Prefect's.
Words.
Fail.
He's slow. Slow and unobservant. Unforgivable, and there's little point denying it. He's been too distracted by far, no question, but this, this would seem to be yet another instance Minerva hadn't seen fit to consult him in the decision making process, and of course it explains Miss Wilkins' withdrawn demeanour as well. The seventh year Slytherin outperformed Patil by every metric imaginable, it was her N.E.W.T. year as well, and if not now, then when was she to reap the benefits of her achievements? It had been one thing when Hermione had received the title, she'd earned it, but Patil... Severus can just see Filius' diminutive little fingerprints all over this decision. He doubts they even once stopped to consider his studious little Snakelet.
He stuns Martins' Calendula and Banishes it back to the boy's table, giving him a look that could Avada in the process. Evidently not entirely gormless and able to read the room, Martins has the good sense to quiet immediately, his mates soon follow suit, and Severus shifts his attention to the young women.
"Thank you, Miss Patil. I believe I can manage from here." He's proud that it sounds remotely neutral. All those years of Occlumency served some purpose, it would seem. Well, beyond keeping him alive.
Patil, however, clearly less gifted at assessing the situation than her Housemates, seems to feel the appropriate response is to show him her new badge of office, tapping it once again, as if that justified her interference.
Undoubtably the best possible response.
Clearly.
Had the interference been useful, he'd likely feel differently, but it had done nothing at all to see to Miss Carmichael's safety - it's as if these people had never heard of a Protego - and Patil's absurd little gesture only manages to annoy him further.
That may be understating things.
"Congratulations are in order, I'm sure," he drawls in a tone most recognise as warning. The rest are fools. "Regardless, this remains my classroom, or would you care to instruct as well?" Patil blinks a little stupidly in reply. "Then kindly retake your seat. If I require further assistance, I'll be certain to let you know." That finally gets the girl moving and she darts towards her chair. It's about bloody time.
"Miss Carmichael, you are unharmed?" He asks, turning to the subject of the chase. That witch has wits enough about her that she'd regained her seat even before Patil, and arguably she'd suffered the greater shock; in Patil's defence, an angry Snape presumably still counts for something. Miss Carmichael has a few scrapes to show for the misadventure - that's apparently what passes for flirting amongst the Ravenclaws these days - and taking her hand in his left, Severus avails himself of her knife with his right and in a very nearly fluid motion swiftly chops off a piece of her Calendula, flicking it clear of the gnashing teeth with a practised twist of his wrist before smashing it with the side of the blade and then wiping a bit of the residue it yields across the back of her scratched hand with his thumb, gently working it in. "It should be healed by evening, if not please see Madam Pomfrey."
It's Carol's turn to blink a little dumbly, but then it's hard to know quite what to say. Afterwards she'll kick herself for not managing to stutter out at least some word of thanks.
Somewhat typically Severus fails to notice either her reaction or that the exchange leaves a few of the other young women staring in his wake. Paradoxically his relationship with Hermione seems to have rendered him a possibility in their eyes in a way that completely ignores that he most definitely isn't available now - if anything, he'd been more of a 'possibility' before - plus the fact of Hermione's no longer being a student having made a substantial difference to his attraction. But then student infatuations don't always make sense; Lockhart's year at the school was evidence enough on that front.
A number of the boys don't fail to register the girls' response, however.
Reaching the front of the classroom, Severus whips about, sending his cloak swirling around him a touch dramatically, and leans against his desk, crossing his arms. One or two of the girls may have sighed. "Twenty points from Ravenclaw for the unsafe handling of ingredients and abuse of a fellow student," he informs Martins, who has the decency to look slightly chagrined. Severus isn't giving him detention - although he should - simply because he hasn't the time for it. Far too many students only learn when the punishment impacts them more directly, but he can't just send the lot to poor Argus, and he himself has too much to do as is... He'll have to hope that the point deduction is severe enough to make itself felt. Chances are fairly good it wasn't five points more than he'd have taken in any event even had he not just discovered Patil had stolen the Head Girl's position from a member of his House...
Weasley, trailing slightly behind the rest of the eighth years, has progressed to the stage of adding the Carnivorous Calendula to his potion. This hiss it emits is wrong, Severus can hear it even above the rest of the noise in the overcrowded room, and he stalks closer for a look, already knowing what he'll most likely see. Zabini beats him to it.
It seems to be the day for it.
"You've chopped the Calendula all wrong, Weasel. It won't do for the base, obviously; the result will be inferior. And of course it'll make it more difficult to tell the difference between Muscle Mender and Pain Relieving Salve, too. It's silly, of course, that they're so similar to begin with, but that doesn't change the facts..." Blaise is feeling inordinately pleased with himself that he's able to work Lavender's observation on the Salves into his tweaking of the ginger. It seems poetic, even more so as he can just picture her reaction when she hears what he'd done. Oo er. "Cut wrong and brewed just a little too short, and there you go, indistinguishable."
"Where, oh where, would the class be without your words of wisdom, Zabini? Have you never heard of labels? Five points from Slytherin for the interruption." Severus has finally had enough of the boy, who seems utterly unperturbed at the point loss as luck would have it. Hmm. Zabini's been sniping at Weasley all morning for some reason. Not that Severus can't understand the impulse... He's hardly a fan, but then Weasley has given him reason.
Severus had kept Hermione out of the public eye for the most part over the holidays, giving them time to adjust to one another before the added pressure of having to deal with others' responses. Having decided to give a relationship between them a try, he'd also decided to make it work. In an unflattering light it might be seen as manipulative, but as the relationship was what she had wanted - long before he'd ever considered it, in fact - he prefers to view it as a tactical move in their mutual interests. Trips to the library had seemed safe enough, but as luck would have it, they'd encountered Weasley with the witch he was seeing on one of them and he'd been his usual charming self. Severus had missed the first half of the encounter and Hermione refused to tell him what transpired, but her reaction was clear enough.
So, yes, he can understand the appeal to aggravating the boy perfectly...
But on the other hand, none of the issues with Weasley were precisely new or unexpected, Zabini's constant interjections are proving quite aggravating as well - at present improbably more so than Weasley - and Severus knows he'd soon come to regret it if he let such behaviour go unchecked, particularly in a class such as theirs. He's coming to the conclusion that he prefers the boy when he's disinterested. Somewhat ironically, Severus is also a little irrationally annoyed at the pointless attack on a perfectly functional Muscle Mending Salve recipe. That's particularly rich as Zabini is correct, obviously, and Severus has no issues whatsoever when the grousing as to traditional brewing approaches originates with himself. Cauldron meet kettle. But then he generally tends to find less fault with a potion when its perceived failing lies in the incompetent potentially using it incorrectly. Heavens, why would he? He's always had a bit of a soft spot for Darwin. If Zabini truly feels the need to criticise, Severus has an entire list of inferior potions he can assail... And of course alterations to the Muscle Mender weren't to be undertaken lightly; the Salve was notoriously finicky, further reason it wasn't included in the usual syllabus, cheers...
He doesn't take still more points, because the House is beleaguered enough, and it only draws attention to the boy's impudence; he also rejects the idea of waiting for the next - surely inevitable - interruption. Instead he alights on a solution which - if he's any judge, and he is - will surely irk Zabini more.
He pitches Weasley the easiest imaginable question in response.
"Weasley, illuminate us, why wouldn't you simply add colour to the Salve?"
It's practically a gift.
Leave it to Weasley to disappoint.
"It might stain?" Ron offers rather lamely, as if no salve, including three the class brewed in the weeks just prior to the hols, were tinted, or there weren't a perfectly functional Impervius on all of Madam Malkin's school robes, or just as serviceable charms for removing such stains should they occur... But then that's all part and parcel of the reasons why Severus wouldn't normally permit students who hadn't managed an O on their O.W.L.s to take this class. He thinks the usual kind thoughts about Horace, damn his eyebrows.
Despite the rebuke only a moment ago, Zabini's hand is in the air and he's positively eager to supply the answer.
"Anyone?" Severus asks the class ignoring Zabini, whose handwaving is disturbingly familiar. Knowing the Slytherin, there's a good chance that's deliberate, too, and he's relying on pleasant associations to curry favour. He has another think coming.
Naturally no one else replies, Sod's law.
It's more than passing odd, most of his good students are quiet today. Draco won't wish to antagonise Potter, so he's not answering. Nott and Miss Flora Carrow are distracted reading what Severus must assume are some of the texts they'd fetched from the library this morning. Once he'd ascertained it wasn't for another class and their Potions work was perfect - particularly as he's aware of the reasons for their research - he'd cut them some slack, letting them work undisturbed. Otherwise occupied, however, neither of them seem eager to correct the Gryffindor either. Miss Davis is cleaving to an 'attract no attention' approach to her education, once near and dear to his own heart, keeping her head down and profile low; her mind seems focused solely on graduating with the least amount of fuss. Bonne chance. Sadly she's not wrong that the House's reputation may adversely affect her chances for an apprenticeship abroad next year. Miss Wilkins has been silently fuming all morning, undoubtably about Patil's promotion. At the moment, however, Miss Wilkins' attention seems equally torn between that non-trivial slight and Touchstones' now perfectly healed hand. Her services will most certainly not be required there, cheers. Severus has no idea why they still doubt him. Then again the corrosive sludge dripping from the ceiling doesn't exactly inspire confidence... Touchstone, obviously, wouldn't know the answer to begin with; presumably Potter neither and for precisely the same reasons, in fact, blast Horace and his lowered standards. Hutchinson had been distracted the whole lesson. He'd had an owl from Miss Wilkins' mother this morning; if she was owling Hutchinson directly instead of her daughter, Severus imagines it wasn't good news. Elizabeth Wilkins has kindly made a habit of checking in on the Hutchinson household regularly. Severus has the feeling that the home situation is little better than his own had been. Perhaps less violent, but certainly neither more wealthy nor sober, the boy's wandless Mobilicorpus is suspiciously too practised... And of course Shafiq rarely engages, not unlike the Ravenclaw contingent, with the notable exception of Patil, who is presently making Severus fume as well, and after his rebuke is now rendered seemingly mute. Small flavours, then.
Which leaves the single hand waving in front of him. "Zabini," he calls on him reluctantly. If the boy bungles this Severus will really take points.
"The colourings can cause interactions. Muscle Mender is tried and tested, and has been for centuries. It isn't considered worth the work to determine additives are safe in that constellation; the improvement would need to be deemed significant to make the effort worthwhile."
Severus nods, "Well at least someone has been paying attention." At this point he feels almost a little guilty for not supporting the lad.
Almost.
Not quite, however.
"Weasley, pray, tell us why that might be well worth addressing regardless." If the last question had been a gift, this one comes wrapped in Filius' gaudiest bows. Off the Gryffindor's inane expression, however, it's obvious the complete and utter lackwit hasn't a clue, which is unadulterated stupidity. Truly. What an irredeemable plank. Without attending a single Potions class, logic alone would dictate restating the answer would do.
Even Potter has the decency to roll his eyes.
Again Zabini's hand shoots into the air. At least he's waiting instead of just volunteering the answers. Small favours. As luck would have it, once again it's also the only hand raised. That wouldn't stop Severus from calling on someone else - their schooling isn't equipped with an opt-out function - but for the first time all class he carefully considers the boy instead. There's something... imploring about him, practically beseeching, which is more than a little odd in as much as Zabinis weren't given to such things. When they wanted something, they generally put their Galleons to work for them, and that with precious few qualms.
Severus doesn't use Legilimency. Not any more. After all the horrible thoughts about himself he'd been forced to confront last year, it had rather decisively cured him of the habit. It was one thing when one's life or the outcome of the war potentially hung in the balance, but to torture oneself needlessly... He hardly sees the point. It wasn't cowardice. Well, not precisely. One could hardly blame him for not wanting more of the same now that the stakes were so greatly changed. And in some ways it's a measure to differentiate himself, Severus now contrasted with Severus then, the spy. It's a mental construct of little consequence, he doubts many are even aware of the distinction - how many had realised how often he'd resorted to Legilimency before? - but he feels it helps. And, yes, the reduced exposure to negativity admittedly hasn't hurt either. Somewhat unexpectedly, however, it's been like losing one of his senses. That, too, leaves him feeling somewhat slow on the whole.
But taking stock of Zabini's behaviour this morning, he finally recognises that all of his muppeting has been aimed at Weasley, either directly or in a more subtle, roundabout fashion. The Slytherin is not simply eager to answer, he seems to feel he needs to. As Severus regards Zabini more closely, he begins to see the importance irking Weasley holds for the boy, how much he wants to get under the Moggie's skin, if not the reasons for it, and yet somehow Severus is sure: this is every bit as personal as it is important.
Well.
Briefly he considers what to do. As Slytherins navigating the post-war political climate, their interests are more likely aligned than Severus' with Weasley's at this point, regardless of the side he'd fought on, his role in the war or membership in the Order. Knowing nothing else, sadly House affiliation was almost sufficient information to decide how to proceed this year. He's also pitched Weasley two incredibly easy questions, any more and people are going to think he's trying to give Hermione's friends - 'friends' - an unfair advantage. People are idiots, but that doesn't diminish the truth of it: that's how it will be seen and it won't be in his (or her) best interests. Tweaking Zabini for speaking out of turn was one thing, but anymore consideration shown to the ginger at this point... And of course it would be particularly foolish for him and Hermione to suffer the consequences of actions he hadn't even taken and to which there was no benefit to giving the impression he had. Further, Weasley clearly hasn't prepared for the lesson, and Zabini has. Frankly, that in itself deserved addressing.
He's willing to leave it to fate.
"Zabini," Severus calls on him once more. "Why might it be worthwhile to pursue the question of adding colourings to the potions?"
"Because the improvement to Muscle Mender would be significant if only for not potentially confusing it with a Pain Relieving Salve. The side effects alone as they stand could make that a problem."
"Do they now?" Severus has a predatory grin, but Zabini is no longer his prey. The eighth year sits there smirking as the Professor turns to the Weasel once more. "Are there potentially serious side effects to the Mender, Weasley?" By and large the class now views it as having given the Weasel yet another chance to prove how poorly equipped he is for the course. Given they all have their texts open to the page on the Salve... But Weasley is an unparalleled knob; things go as they must. He shrugs and Professor Snape nods for Blaise to answer again.
"The way it can act upon damaged tissues, certainly. The uncontrolled tissue..."
Weasley, registering some of the dismissive glances in his direction, finally thinks of a reply. It isn't a particularly good one, and the delivery is even worse, cutting Zabini off as he puts his pennyworth in. "Well then just don't put it on a cut," he retorts rather snidely.
"Weasley, if you're going to interrupt, do see to it that the interruptions are substantive. Ten points from Gryffindor. Class, why is that unadulterated tripe?"
"Because not all damage is visible," Theo rejoins quietly, his thoughts still obviously elsewhere, but finally lifting his nose from his book. The lack of venom to his reply takes some of the wind out of the discussion's sails.
"Quite," Severus agrees with some sympathy. "Five points to Slytherin," he acknowledges the brunet. Theo smiles a little wanly at the implied praise before returning to his text. Miss Carrow leans in to congratulate him before redoubling her study of her own book. Whatever else, they're driven.
"If you knew nothing else about colourings, how would you know they aren't inert in potions? Weasley?" Weasley shrugs, and Zabini's hand is in the air again. "Zabini?"
"We'd be using them as stirrers for one. Much cheaper and easier to come by than silver or platinum stirring rods."
"Generally," Severus acknowledges. There were a few botanicals in possession of colourative properties that were quite dear, but the answer is fundamentally correct.
The seventh years have caught up, it's time to bottle and check the results and put their things away. "Bring your phials of the Muscle Mender base to me when you're ready and prepare to test your Salves. Zabini, do think to label your work, would you?" He needles, not ungently, to the general amusement; even the boy himself cracks a sheepish smile. "You'll require it for tomorrow's lesson when you'll be brewing the Mender Salve itself."
It's a surprisingly orderly process for all their increased numbers, precisely because those numbers necessitate just that level of order. Each student in turn brings their work to his desk, extends an arm, pulling up a sleeve, and - some more confidently than others - applies the base to the sensitive skin on the inside of their forearms. When Weasley's turn comes, Severus informs him, "Your potion isn't correctly brewed. You'll need to organise some base by tomorrow's class..." But there's a mulish set to the boy's jaw has Severus offering him a choice instead of simply withholding credit for the lesson. "I'd advise against testing it, and suggest taking the 'T'."
The response is so predictable, Severus almost has to wonder if he should see this as setting the boy up. Weasley rolls up his sleeve defiantly and smears a ridiculously generous amount of the salve down his arm. The reaction is also predictable. Everywhere the Salve touched, his skin sprouts aggressive green growths. Painful green growths. The Moggie drops to his knees holding his arm outstretched from his body - as though that could limit the spread - and wailing piteously with the pain.
"'T'," Severus informs him, perhaps a little callously, but this had been avoidable, and he doesn't suffer fools gladly. Taking Zabini's potion from the boy as a small gesture to make up for his earlier rebuffs, bygones, Severus holds it up for all to see and announces, "This is how it's done." Gesturing to Weasley's sad creation, he adds, "This is not." Zabini is practically beaming - reparations made, cheers - but the difference should be patently obvious even to an evident troglodyte like the momentarily miserable Moggie. With a bit of luck, perhaps he'll learn from it... Severus won't be holding his breath, however.
"You'll need to see about getting some base by tomorrow's class," he repeats. "Speak to Touchstone about it should that be an issue for you. He'll be requiring some as well." Touchstone nods readily, not pleased with the result, naturally, but equally having no desire to suffer like Weasley. He's content to take Severus' word on the matter. In as much as he was assigning them their grades either way, he can't imagine how Weasley thought his piss poor attempt at proving him wrong would end well. He could have failed him at any point along the line had that been the goal. Obviously it was not.
Ironically, for entirely personal reasons, just at present he's possibly more concerned with the class' success than he's ever been before. The Board and the Ministry were very real threats. Leave it to a Moggie to fail to recognise it.
On the other hand they had a demoralising way of landing on their feet no matter the height of the fall, so perhaps their assessment of the potential threat was duly learnt... Hmm.
"Potter, may I prevail upon you to take Weasley to Infirmary?" He addresses the only other Gryffindor in the course. Potter doesn't seem exactly pleased at the idea, but the request was polite enough and evidently unsure who else would help Weasley, he soon agrees.
Severus' Tempus chimes and the class begins to leave, Potter supporting his roommate and leading the way.
Once they've made the exit, Zabini calls out to Touchstone surreptitiously as he packs his things together. "Psst, Tor, when you think about it, Weasel didn't actually order any base from you, did he?" Touchstone allows that the Moggie had not. "You might want to order some on spec and charge him double if he needs it." Severus smirks, his Snakes are still true to form. Ostensibly busying himself with the phials on his desk, he observes them covertly through the drape of his hair.
"I could always just not order some for him," Touchstone considers as he slings his satchel of books over his shoulder. Hmm.
"Don't be daft, Tor," Miss Wilkins chides, taking his free arm. "Professor Snape practically told you to." And that would be why Severus likes the young woman, cheers.
"Technically he didn't," Draco points out, technically correct, and of course the only one of them who would risk disobeying him on such tenuous grounds, the little nit. Draco had always dared more and taken more liberties, but fewer by far since Voldemort's encampment at the Manor. The last two years had seen him greatly diminished; as annoying as he can occasionally be, it's still good to see his godson resembling his old self more of late. With some ambivalence, Severus acknowledges some of that must be down to Potter of all people...
Zabini scoffs at Draco's observation, shaking his head, "Definitely order them. That way you're in the clear. Why wouldn't you? Given your family would be sending it to you, returns shouldn't be an issue anyway. And did you see the way Weasel's arm looked? There's no way he's going to be able to get an order out on his own in time to have the Mender potion base by tomorrow morning. He'll be lucky if we see him for dinner..." Blaise is most likely underestimating Madam Pomfrey's skill, but he's rather pleased with himself at the moment, convinced as he is that his constant needling had contributed to the Weasel's poor performance. Result!
"Those lot have their Order of Merlin stipends now," Hutchinson, one of the seventh year Chasers, adds his objection to Zabini's plan, finally joining in, practical and observant as always. "Double the price won't make any difference to him, not like it used to anyway..." As the only one of them who actually has to watch his Knuts, and very carefully at that, it makes a sad sort of sense that he's the one that occurs to.
"In that case, you might even be able to charge him triple," Zabini, warming to his idea, remains enterprising. "It's either pay what you ask or take another 'T'. In fact, never mind, just do it, Tor. I'll foot the bill." Grinning wolfishly, he settles the issue once and for all, taking the decision out of Touchstone's healed hands.
Severus chuckles as he watches them file out of his classroom. He hasn't the foggiest notion what's going on between Zabini and Weasley, but yes, it's clearly personal.
Mentioned briefly: Staff: Hermione Granger, Slytherins: Tracey Davis, Flora Carrow, Sheldon Shafiq
04 January, 1999. Double Potions with the seventh and eighth years. Severus' joy knows no bounds. Tor and Ron are doing little better.
Originally Published: 2021-11-14 on LJ / DW
Words: 7 k
Rating: Mature
Characters: Severus Snape (Deputy Headmaster, Head of Slytherin, Potions Master, and a great deal happier of late),
Slytherins: Blaise Zabini (8S, highly intrigued by the duality of Lavender's nature), Draco Malfoy (8S, Prefect, Captain, Seeker, Potter's), Theo Nott (8S, Hestia's), Torsten 'Tor' Touchstone (7S, heir to the Touchstone potions fortune), Harper Hutchinson (7S, Prefect, Chaser), Ella Wilkins (7S, Prefect),
Gryffindors: Ron Weasley Ron Weasley (8G, Prefect, Lavender's ex, ex-Keeper, presently seeing Demelza), Harry Potter (8G, Captain, Seeker, Draco's), Lavender Brown (8G, Prefect, no longer Ron's bit on the side (or anywhere else), she's begun seeing a certain Slytherin instead),
Ravenclaws: Padma Patil (8R, Head Girl), Edgar Martins (7R, Prefect), Carol Carmichael (7R, Prefect)
Mentioned briefly: Staff: Hermione Granger (recent Hogwarts graduate and Transfiguration apprentice), Slytherins: Tracey Davis (8S), Flora Carrow (7S, studious but sadly guilt-ridden twin), Sheldon Shafiq (7S, Beater, flirt)
Previously:
The previouslies are very robust. If you've recently read the Christmas Spirit stories, skip them, if not, no worries, I've got you covered. You can find a links to the individual stories / chapters in the "christmas spirit index" (LJ / DW / AO3).
While fooling around with Hestia a couple of weeks ago, Theo forgets himself - and more crucially the Trace on his wand - and casts a Restraining Spell, the Aurors appear and try to arrest him. Adding insult to injury, the don't allow him to get dressed first, electing to parade him in the altogether past his Housemates instead. Mentioned in ACoCE 4b
Growing restless with the restrictions being a student entails, a situation exacerbated by her (at the time) unreciprocated infatuation with a certain member of staff, Hermione sits her N.E.W.T.s early and accepts a Transfiguration apprenticeship at the school. Over the holidays, with some initial help from the Bloody Baron, Peeves, some Whiz-bangs and a bunch of magical mistletoe, she rather unexpectedly embarks on a relationship with Severus. CS
Blaise decides that there might be some fun to be had in showing Weasel up in front of Lavender. Interconnected 3 He then promptly forgets all about his cunning plan and spends most of double Charms... otherwise occupied. Interconnected 4
Thinking Blaise has sent Theo and Flora to fetch the library books she has on the topic of the Healing Glamour, and crushed by his lack of faith in her skills, Lavender turns the books over to the two Slytherins when they ask her for them. She then proceeds to give Blaise a piece of her mind about it, but he's able to clear things up to her... satisfaction and promises to have them return the books. Interconnected 4
Monday, 04 January, 1999 - the beginning of the second term
Charms ClassroomStifling a wistful sigh, Lavender watches Blaise's buttocks shift beneath his robe as he exits the Charms classroom before her. It's a glorious sight; such a pity his cloak obscures as much as it does from view... Personally she's always felt the boys' uniforms were a good deal more flattering than the girls' skirts. If she should ever need to debate the point, she'll submit Blaise's arse in evidence.
She has the next period free, her favourite Slytherin does not, meaning she won't see him until lunch. It's a bit of a surprise to realise she'll miss him. That realisation at least prepares her slightly for the reduction in productivity she experiences the next hour as she somewhat listlessly attempts to do some homework, as well as the preponderance of little hearts with his initials that will adorn her notebook by lunch. Hmm.
Well that's what Notice-Me-Nots were for.
"Theo, hold on a moment, would you?" Blaise calls after his roommate. "I need a word," he adds, hopeful to get the small matter of Lavender's books sorted before they arrive in Potions. Worst case, he's confident he'll have managed it by lunch. There's an exceptionally attractive witch he means not to disappoint.
Potions Classroom
Monday morning illustrates rather neatly much of what Severus has long hated about his job. In his first class, double Potions, the students had caused a mess that had proven highly resistant to removal, so resistant, in fact, that it was still dripping from the ceiling onto the Protego he'd only just managed to get into place before a number of his pupils would have otherwise received serious burns. Splendid. Accordingly, four of the little blighters will be seeing to his cauldrons this afternoon, cheers. The double hour, reserved exclusively for practical applications and actual brewing, was always the worst after a break. Ordinarily he'd have given them something comparatively harmless to ease them back into the subject, for his sake nearly as much as theirs; thanks to Minerva's new curriculum, that was no longer possible. They'll have trouble enough covering everything she's asking them to, wasting a lesson warming them up simply wasn't an option anymore. No, if he's honest, he has no idea how they can be expected to complete the material as is. Improving the situation not in the slightest, there were more than enough people just waiting for him to fail, and to make matters worse yet, he had nowhere else to go. Hogwarts was his home. The only one he's known for the better portion of his life.
Of course now that Hermione had committed to spending the next three years - at least - at the school, to be fair there was nowhere else he wanted to go. Which means the pressure to succeed has just intensified. Bugger. There's some irony that he feels it more acutely now than he had when serving in his role as a double agent and fifth columnist. Presumably the sheer volume of potentially life-threatening distractions at the time had kept his attention focused elsewhere, though.
Well, if swish came to flick, Minerva would probably still see her way clear to trying to fight to keep him - he should bloody well hope so as the issues were largely down to her changes - but even he's noticed he's her deputy in name only, and that's despite being unable to claim he'd taken much of an active interest. No, there was no denying that she doesn't generally consult him when making her decisions. As a matter of fact, she was far more likely to seek Filius' counsel... Of course there are advantages to that, no question, to not having to take action, make decisions or even give running the school much thought - he'd just as soon never think about that ever again - but it doesn't change Severus' present lack of real significance. That could give rise to difficulties under inopportune circumstances... Hmm.
Obviously a fair portion of the overall problem also lay in public perception. That had been only too evident. The people that had expected him to change radically at the end of the war - idiocy abounds - had been thoroughly mistaken, and the Order of Merlin (first class) had incongruously only served to exacerbate the issue. Bizarrely, quite, there were too many who'd romanticised him in the wake of the publicity from the trials. Just as his often surly and exceedingly sarcastic nature didn't diminish his accomplishments, neither did those accomplishments help make him substantially more pleasant. How perfectly ludicrous the notion. His nature remained largely unchanged. Naturally.
That was received about as well as could be expected.
Had Severus been comatose for a shorter time after the war or not occupied with battling for his continued freedom - both of which had proven inordinately time consuming - he'd have managed those expectations better, he is sure, but as was... It was patently absurd to think he'd suddenly enjoy teaching more, but as his options had been severely curtailed by the Wisengamot's investigations and the Daily Prophet's ridiculous coverage of the same, he simply hadn't any other options. And so here he was.
Teaching. Again.
Potions.
Again.
He's merely under less stress. Or would be, were it not for Minerva's modified curriculum and the fact he's stuck compensating for Horace's assorted failings. After two straight years of his colleague's tutelage, Severus has often found the students' skills... wanting.
The seventh and eighth year class, specifically, is especially trying. The seventh years once again count students amongst their number whom Severus would never have admitted to N.E.W.T.s Potions to begin with - so frightfully considerate of Horace - and then they hadn't even completed the sixth year course before advancing to the seventh. Combining their class with the eighth years'... Singly they had each already been oversubscribed for the material - his was by no means a particularly safe course of study, supervision was crucial - and by individuals often underqualified at that, together... Merlin's beard. He's never had so many students in a class before - no Potions Instructor had - and certainly never in a N.E.W.T.s class. Idiocy. Evidently without sparing a single thought for advisability, the Board of Governors had proceeded to mix a group who hadn't covered a substantial portion of the foreyear's material with students who (despite also including Potter and Weasley, neither of whom had met his prerequisites for the course, either) were now covering much of the material for the second time. Subsequently a fair portion had a tendency to be bored and inattentive, all too often distracting others in the process, and much of the rest were clearly out of their depth. Anyone who thought that was a good idea was a dunderhead of the first water. But then that's the Board in a nutshell, cheers. It was a bit of glaring stupidity, and expanding the curriculum concomitantly only compounded the problems, guaranteeing the worst N.E.W.T.s results ever, Severus is sure. At this point, further obstacles hardly come as a surprise, however, and he can always brew Snape's Stomach Soother as required for the knot in his belly; a man of his skill hardly need resort to any of that Touchstone's Tummy Toughening Tonic rot...
To be fair, all of that's still - marginally - less stressful than managing Albus and Voldemort simultaneously, so there's that. Small mercies. But without the need to maintain a cover, to be seen to favour the purebloods... Coupled with the demands of the more challenging course material, it meant instead of mellowing, if anything Severus has become stricter with all of his students. From time to time, the fact that leaves absolutely no one in his Slytherins' camp occurs to him, but after the ordeals of the last years, and the bitterness they'd given rise to, even that rarely succeeds in moderating his behaviour.
Case in point, Zabini is proving exceptionally annoying today, exceedingly eager to answer questions - asked and not - apparently endeavouring to be nearly as much of an insufferable Know-It-All as Hermione ever was now the position is vacant. And that without any of the witch's highly redeeming charms, it should go without saying. Although presumably for the best - that would be odd - it certainly makes the Slytherin no easier to stomach. If the boy persists, Severus is seriously considering taking points from his own House. But then it won't be the first time this class alone.
On the plus side, however, this is the first lesson with Hermione's erstwhile classmates since Severus has begun seeing the witch. He'd have to allow to being pleasantly surprised by the absence of snide remarks, particularly from Weasley's and Potter's quarter. Primarily, he suspects, because one requires an audience for said snark, and the two boys don't seem to be on speaking terms at present... It appears Weasley still hasn't managed to worm his way back into Potter's good graces after his... unfortunate... declarations when he'd first learnt of the relationship between Draco and Potter. Although to be completely fair, Severus is reasonably certain Potter is stayed from further aggravating the Potions Master in part by his relationship with Draco, small favours. Most of the rest of the class are Slytherins and Ravenclaws for obvious reasons. The Slytherins have come out in favour of Severus' relationship, evidently deeming it advantageous, and the Ravenclaws are generally smart enough to bite their tongues, although a few of the seventh years seem bound and determined to test that assertion...
Severus is prowling between the rows, watching his students prepare their ingredients with a gimlet eye. Looking at their mauled fingers - and of course this is precisely why of his own accord he'd never have them prepare the base for the Muscle Mender potion themselves - he can't help thinking how fortunate it is that the Carnivorous Calendula has healing properties as well. The question, of course, is if those will be adequate to the task. Looking at Touchstone's fingers, he suspects rather not.
Miss Wilkins keeps having to restrain herself from doing the chopping for the blundering boy. While Severus fully understands the impulse - Touchstone is exceedingly hard to watch - he wouldn't have hesitated to deduct points for that as well, but she's a good witch and gives him no cause. It strikes him, however, that she seems somewhat subdued overall today...
And there! Brilliant! Touchstone succeeds in allowing the Calendula to bite him so severely that Severus is required see to the wound.
Merlin's bloody beard.
Or hand, as the case may be.
This, this is precisely why he doesn't normally allow students who hadn't achieved an Outstanding on their O.W.L.s to take his N.E.W.T. Potions classes. In fact he's long held a suspicion that Horace had even encouraged the poor lad to take the class in view of the Touchstone family's excellent potions connections. The seventh year himself was generally sensible enough to know he hadn't the least talent for the subject...
His Muffliato assures that no one hears Severus singing the Vulnera Sanentur that soon has the wounds knitting closed - he still has some dignity, cheers - and that would ordinarily have been the end of it, except while he's preoccupied sorting the hapless potions heir, Ravenclaw Edgar Martins leaps to take advantage of the opportunity the distraction affords. Severus turns just in time to see little rotter send his Carnivorous Calendula winging after one of the seventh year girls, Miss Carmichael, the other Ravenclaw Prefect in Martins' year, presently being chased about the room by the intractable botanical and shrieking, joy of joys. One would think Touchstone's blood should have been clue enough that this isn't an ingredient to be trifled with, but no, and naturally the rest of the worthless tosspot's cronies are sat there laughing.
How perfectly droll.
One of these days someone will have to explain to him how he could ever have thought - even fleetingly - that teaching was anything like a remotely tolerable idea.
Martins... The boy had been noticeably more of a muppet since the beginning of the school year, coinciding rather neatly with his Uncle's assumption of the role of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It had been one of Shacklebolt's concessions to not being elected to his office of Minister, that he'd appointed someone to the key position who hadn't been a member of the Order, not unwise in itself, and Arthur and Doge certainly hadn't made good candidates for the job either. Unsurprisingly the Ravenclaw had gone with someone from his House, someone he knew from school days. What could be said with certainty is that the man hadn't been a Death Eater, and with equal certainty that there'd been not the least sign of him when it became necessary to fight them either. To Severus' thinking, Martins is a man with designs on the Minister's position, using the DMLE as a stepping stone, much like Thicknesse had, only Thicknesse had actually been qualified, at least for the DMLE role. Severus is convinced it was a tactical error on Shacklebolt's part, but that's neither here nor there at the moment. The question here was if the younger Martins had his uncle's backing, or if he was simply trying to suggest he did.
After the shameful deployment of the Aurors in the Slytherin dungeons shortly before Christmas - poor Nott; an example of gross overreach if Severus has ever seen it - he'd been waiting to see how things would play out once the session resumed.
Martins is clearly more emboldened than ever.
Severus had feared that would be the case. He means to shut this down immediately, experience shows it's practically an imperative, although the safety considerations alone were reason enough - discipline in his classroom has always been a vital concern - but just as he puts an end to his Privacy Charm in order to intervene, Miss Patil pips him to the post.
Perfect.
"Edgar, stop that immediately," comes her less than stellar opening volley, achieving bugger all.
Naturally, very, she repeats it, only louder.
That merely succeeds in provoking Martins to mouth off, "Shut it, Padma," assuming, most likely rightly, that she wouldn't take points from her own House even if she could take them from a fellow Prefect - so there's little cause for worry that she'll recommend for a teacher to do so - and of course she can hardly assign him detention... There's no indication whatsoever he means to stop and on top of Miss Carmichael's shrieks all it's done is succeeded in adding to the collective din. Cheers.
As Miss Patil rather predictably increases the volume yet again for her next gambit, brilliant, she taps the badge on her chest somewhat officiously for emphasis...
Which is point Severus finally registers the Head Girl badge that's replaced the Prefect's.
Words.
Fail.
He's slow. Slow and unobservant. Unforgivable, and there's little point denying it. He's been too distracted by far, no question, but this, this would seem to be yet another instance Minerva hadn't seen fit to consult him in the decision making process, and of course it explains Miss Wilkins' withdrawn demeanour as well. The seventh year Slytherin outperformed Patil by every metric imaginable, it was her N.E.W.T. year as well, and if not now, then when was she to reap the benefits of her achievements? It had been one thing when Hermione had received the title, she'd earned it, but Patil... Severus can just see Filius' diminutive little fingerprints all over this decision. He doubts they even once stopped to consider his studious little Snakelet.
He stuns Martins' Calendula and Banishes it back to the boy's table, giving him a look that could Avada in the process. Evidently not entirely gormless and able to read the room, Martins has the good sense to quiet immediately, his mates soon follow suit, and Severus shifts his attention to the young women.
"Thank you, Miss Patil. I believe I can manage from here." He's proud that it sounds remotely neutral. All those years of Occlumency served some purpose, it would seem. Well, beyond keeping him alive.
Patil, however, clearly less gifted at assessing the situation than her Housemates, seems to feel the appropriate response is to show him her new badge of office, tapping it once again, as if that justified her interference.
Undoubtably the best possible response.
Clearly.
Had the interference been useful, he'd likely feel differently, but it had done nothing at all to see to Miss Carmichael's safety - it's as if these people had never heard of a Protego - and Patil's absurd little gesture only manages to annoy him further.
That may be understating things.
"Congratulations are in order, I'm sure," he drawls in a tone most recognise as warning. The rest are fools. "Regardless, this remains my classroom, or would you care to instruct as well?" Patil blinks a little stupidly in reply. "Then kindly retake your seat. If I require further assistance, I'll be certain to let you know." That finally gets the girl moving and she darts towards her chair. It's about bloody time.
"Miss Carmichael, you are unharmed?" He asks, turning to the subject of the chase. That witch has wits enough about her that she'd regained her seat even before Patil, and arguably she'd suffered the greater shock; in Patil's defence, an angry Snape presumably still counts for something. Miss Carmichael has a few scrapes to show for the misadventure - that's apparently what passes for flirting amongst the Ravenclaws these days - and taking her hand in his left, Severus avails himself of her knife with his right and in a very nearly fluid motion swiftly chops off a piece of her Calendula, flicking it clear of the gnashing teeth with a practised twist of his wrist before smashing it with the side of the blade and then wiping a bit of the residue it yields across the back of her scratched hand with his thumb, gently working it in. "It should be healed by evening, if not please see Madam Pomfrey."
It's Carol's turn to blink a little dumbly, but then it's hard to know quite what to say. Afterwards she'll kick herself for not managing to stutter out at least some word of thanks.
Somewhat typically Severus fails to notice either her reaction or that the exchange leaves a few of the other young women staring in his wake. Paradoxically his relationship with Hermione seems to have rendered him a possibility in their eyes in a way that completely ignores that he most definitely isn't available now - if anything, he'd been more of a 'possibility' before - plus the fact of Hermione's no longer being a student having made a substantial difference to his attraction. But then student infatuations don't always make sense; Lockhart's year at the school was evidence enough on that front.
A number of the boys don't fail to register the girls' response, however.
Reaching the front of the classroom, Severus whips about, sending his cloak swirling around him a touch dramatically, and leans against his desk, crossing his arms. One or two of the girls may have sighed. "Twenty points from Ravenclaw for the unsafe handling of ingredients and abuse of a fellow student," he informs Martins, who has the decency to look slightly chagrined. Severus isn't giving him detention - although he should - simply because he hasn't the time for it. Far too many students only learn when the punishment impacts them more directly, but he can't just send the lot to poor Argus, and he himself has too much to do as is... He'll have to hope that the point deduction is severe enough to make itself felt. Chances are fairly good it wasn't five points more than he'd have taken in any event even had he not just discovered Patil had stolen the Head Girl's position from a member of his House...
Weasley, trailing slightly behind the rest of the eighth years, has progressed to the stage of adding the Carnivorous Calendula to his potion. This hiss it emits is wrong, Severus can hear it even above the rest of the noise in the overcrowded room, and he stalks closer for a look, already knowing what he'll most likely see. Zabini beats him to it.
It seems to be the day for it.
"You've chopped the Calendula all wrong, Weasel. It won't do for the base, obviously; the result will be inferior. And of course it'll make it more difficult to tell the difference between Muscle Mender and Pain Relieving Salve, too. It's silly, of course, that they're so similar to begin with, but that doesn't change the facts..." Blaise is feeling inordinately pleased with himself that he's able to work Lavender's observation on the Salves into his tweaking of the ginger. It seems poetic, even more so as he can just picture her reaction when she hears what he'd done. Oo er. "Cut wrong and brewed just a little too short, and there you go, indistinguishable."
"Where, oh where, would the class be without your words of wisdom, Zabini? Have you never heard of labels? Five points from Slytherin for the interruption." Severus has finally had enough of the boy, who seems utterly unperturbed at the point loss as luck would have it. Hmm. Zabini's been sniping at Weasley all morning for some reason. Not that Severus can't understand the impulse... He's hardly a fan, but then Weasley has given him reason.
Severus had kept Hermione out of the public eye for the most part over the holidays, giving them time to adjust to one another before the added pressure of having to deal with others' responses. Having decided to give a relationship between them a try, he'd also decided to make it work. In an unflattering light it might be seen as manipulative, but as the relationship was what she had wanted - long before he'd ever considered it, in fact - he prefers to view it as a tactical move in their mutual interests. Trips to the library had seemed safe enough, but as luck would have it, they'd encountered Weasley with the witch he was seeing on one of them and he'd been his usual charming self. Severus had missed the first half of the encounter and Hermione refused to tell him what transpired, but her reaction was clear enough.
So, yes, he can understand the appeal to aggravating the boy perfectly...
But on the other hand, none of the issues with Weasley were precisely new or unexpected, Zabini's constant interjections are proving quite aggravating as well - at present improbably more so than Weasley - and Severus knows he'd soon come to regret it if he let such behaviour go unchecked, particularly in a class such as theirs. He's coming to the conclusion that he prefers the boy when he's disinterested. Somewhat ironically, Severus is also a little irrationally annoyed at the pointless attack on a perfectly functional Muscle Mending Salve recipe. That's particularly rich as Zabini is correct, obviously, and Severus has no issues whatsoever when the grousing as to traditional brewing approaches originates with himself. Cauldron meet kettle. But then he generally tends to find less fault with a potion when its perceived failing lies in the incompetent potentially using it incorrectly. Heavens, why would he? He's always had a bit of a soft spot for Darwin. If Zabini truly feels the need to criticise, Severus has an entire list of inferior potions he can assail... And of course alterations to the Muscle Mender weren't to be undertaken lightly; the Salve was notoriously finicky, further reason it wasn't included in the usual syllabus, cheers...
He doesn't take still more points, because the House is beleaguered enough, and it only draws attention to the boy's impudence; he also rejects the idea of waiting for the next - surely inevitable - interruption. Instead he alights on a solution which - if he's any judge, and he is - will surely irk Zabini more.
He pitches Weasley the easiest imaginable question in response.
"Weasley, illuminate us, why wouldn't you simply add colour to the Salve?"
It's practically a gift.
Leave it to Weasley to disappoint.
"It might stain?" Ron offers rather lamely, as if no salve, including three the class brewed in the weeks just prior to the hols, were tinted, or there weren't a perfectly functional Impervius on all of Madam Malkin's school robes, or just as serviceable charms for removing such stains should they occur... But then that's all part and parcel of the reasons why Severus wouldn't normally permit students who hadn't managed an O on their O.W.L.s to take this class. He thinks the usual kind thoughts about Horace, damn his eyebrows.
Despite the rebuke only a moment ago, Zabini's hand is in the air and he's positively eager to supply the answer.
"Anyone?" Severus asks the class ignoring Zabini, whose handwaving is disturbingly familiar. Knowing the Slytherin, there's a good chance that's deliberate, too, and he's relying on pleasant associations to curry favour. He has another think coming.
Naturally no one else replies, Sod's law.
It's more than passing odd, most of his good students are quiet today. Draco won't wish to antagonise Potter, so he's not answering. Nott and Miss Flora Carrow are distracted reading what Severus must assume are some of the texts they'd fetched from the library this morning. Once he'd ascertained it wasn't for another class and their Potions work was perfect - particularly as he's aware of the reasons for their research - he'd cut them some slack, letting them work undisturbed. Otherwise occupied, however, neither of them seem eager to correct the Gryffindor either. Miss Davis is cleaving to an 'attract no attention' approach to her education, once near and dear to his own heart, keeping her head down and profile low; her mind seems focused solely on graduating with the least amount of fuss. Bonne chance. Sadly she's not wrong that the House's reputation may adversely affect her chances for an apprenticeship abroad next year. Miss Wilkins has been silently fuming all morning, undoubtably about Patil's promotion. At the moment, however, Miss Wilkins' attention seems equally torn between that non-trivial slight and Touchstones' now perfectly healed hand. Her services will most certainly not be required there, cheers. Severus has no idea why they still doubt him. Then again the corrosive sludge dripping from the ceiling doesn't exactly inspire confidence... Touchstone, obviously, wouldn't know the answer to begin with; presumably Potter neither and for precisely the same reasons, in fact, blast Horace and his lowered standards. Hutchinson had been distracted the whole lesson. He'd had an owl from Miss Wilkins' mother this morning; if she was owling Hutchinson directly instead of her daughter, Severus imagines it wasn't good news. Elizabeth Wilkins has kindly made a habit of checking in on the Hutchinson household regularly. Severus has the feeling that the home situation is little better than his own had been. Perhaps less violent, but certainly neither more wealthy nor sober, the boy's wandless Mobilicorpus is suspiciously too practised... And of course Shafiq rarely engages, not unlike the Ravenclaw contingent, with the notable exception of Patil, who is presently making Severus fume as well, and after his rebuke is now rendered seemingly mute. Small flavours, then.
Which leaves the single hand waving in front of him. "Zabini," he calls on him reluctantly. If the boy bungles this Severus will really take points.
"The colourings can cause interactions. Muscle Mender is tried and tested, and has been for centuries. It isn't considered worth the work to determine additives are safe in that constellation; the improvement would need to be deemed significant to make the effort worthwhile."
Severus nods, "Well at least someone has been paying attention." At this point he feels almost a little guilty for not supporting the lad.
Almost.
Not quite, however.
"Weasley, pray, tell us why that might be well worth addressing regardless." If the last question had been a gift, this one comes wrapped in Filius' gaudiest bows. Off the Gryffindor's inane expression, however, it's obvious the complete and utter lackwit hasn't a clue, which is unadulterated stupidity. Truly. What an irredeemable plank. Without attending a single Potions class, logic alone would dictate restating the answer would do.
Even Potter has the decency to roll his eyes.
Again Zabini's hand shoots into the air. At least he's waiting instead of just volunteering the answers. Small favours. As luck would have it, once again it's also the only hand raised. That wouldn't stop Severus from calling on someone else - their schooling isn't equipped with an opt-out function - but for the first time all class he carefully considers the boy instead. There's something... imploring about him, practically beseeching, which is more than a little odd in as much as Zabinis weren't given to such things. When they wanted something, they generally put their Galleons to work for them, and that with precious few qualms.
Severus doesn't use Legilimency. Not any more. After all the horrible thoughts about himself he'd been forced to confront last year, it had rather decisively cured him of the habit. It was one thing when one's life or the outcome of the war potentially hung in the balance, but to torture oneself needlessly... He hardly sees the point. It wasn't cowardice. Well, not precisely. One could hardly blame him for not wanting more of the same now that the stakes were so greatly changed. And in some ways it's a measure to differentiate himself, Severus now contrasted with Severus then, the spy. It's a mental construct of little consequence, he doubts many are even aware of the distinction - how many had realised how often he'd resorted to Legilimency before? - but he feels it helps. And, yes, the reduced exposure to negativity admittedly hasn't hurt either. Somewhat unexpectedly, however, it's been like losing one of his senses. That, too, leaves him feeling somewhat slow on the whole.
But taking stock of Zabini's behaviour this morning, he finally recognises that all of his muppeting has been aimed at Weasley, either directly or in a more subtle, roundabout fashion. The Slytherin is not simply eager to answer, he seems to feel he needs to. As Severus regards Zabini more closely, he begins to see the importance irking Weasley holds for the boy, how much he wants to get under the Moggie's skin, if not the reasons for it, and yet somehow Severus is sure: this is every bit as personal as it is important.
Well.
Briefly he considers what to do. As Slytherins navigating the post-war political climate, their interests are more likely aligned than Severus' with Weasley's at this point, regardless of the side he'd fought on, his role in the war or membership in the Order. Knowing nothing else, sadly House affiliation was almost sufficient information to decide how to proceed this year. He's also pitched Weasley two incredibly easy questions, any more and people are going to think he's trying to give Hermione's friends - 'friends' - an unfair advantage. People are idiots, but that doesn't diminish the truth of it: that's how it will be seen and it won't be in his (or her) best interests. Tweaking Zabini for speaking out of turn was one thing, but anymore consideration shown to the ginger at this point... And of course it would be particularly foolish for him and Hermione to suffer the consequences of actions he hadn't even taken and to which there was no benefit to giving the impression he had. Further, Weasley clearly hasn't prepared for the lesson, and Zabini has. Frankly, that in itself deserved addressing.
He's willing to leave it to fate.
"Zabini," Severus calls on him once more. "Why might it be worthwhile to pursue the question of adding colourings to the potions?"
"Because the improvement to Muscle Mender would be significant if only for not potentially confusing it with a Pain Relieving Salve. The side effects alone as they stand could make that a problem."
"Do they now?" Severus has a predatory grin, but Zabini is no longer his prey. The eighth year sits there smirking as the Professor turns to the Weasel once more. "Are there potentially serious side effects to the Mender, Weasley?" By and large the class now views it as having given the Weasel yet another chance to prove how poorly equipped he is for the course. Given they all have their texts open to the page on the Salve... But Weasley is an unparalleled knob; things go as they must. He shrugs and Professor Snape nods for Blaise to answer again.
"The way it can act upon damaged tissues, certainly. The uncontrolled tissue..."
Weasley, registering some of the dismissive glances in his direction, finally thinks of a reply. It isn't a particularly good one, and the delivery is even worse, cutting Zabini off as he puts his pennyworth in. "Well then just don't put it on a cut," he retorts rather snidely.
"Weasley, if you're going to interrupt, do see to it that the interruptions are substantive. Ten points from Gryffindor. Class, why is that unadulterated tripe?"
"Because not all damage is visible," Theo rejoins quietly, his thoughts still obviously elsewhere, but finally lifting his nose from his book. The lack of venom to his reply takes some of the wind out of the discussion's sails.
"Quite," Severus agrees with some sympathy. "Five points to Slytherin," he acknowledges the brunet. Theo smiles a little wanly at the implied praise before returning to his text. Miss Carrow leans in to congratulate him before redoubling her study of her own book. Whatever else, they're driven.
"If you knew nothing else about colourings, how would you know they aren't inert in potions? Weasley?" Weasley shrugs, and Zabini's hand is in the air again. "Zabini?"
"We'd be using them as stirrers for one. Much cheaper and easier to come by than silver or platinum stirring rods."
"Generally," Severus acknowledges. There were a few botanicals in possession of colourative properties that were quite dear, but the answer is fundamentally correct.
The seventh years have caught up, it's time to bottle and check the results and put their things away. "Bring your phials of the Muscle Mender base to me when you're ready and prepare to test your Salves. Zabini, do think to label your work, would you?" He needles, not ungently, to the general amusement; even the boy himself cracks a sheepish smile. "You'll require it for tomorrow's lesson when you'll be brewing the Mender Salve itself."
It's a surprisingly orderly process for all their increased numbers, precisely because those numbers necessitate just that level of order. Each student in turn brings their work to his desk, extends an arm, pulling up a sleeve, and - some more confidently than others - applies the base to the sensitive skin on the inside of their forearms. When Weasley's turn comes, Severus informs him, "Your potion isn't correctly brewed. You'll need to organise some base by tomorrow's class..." But there's a mulish set to the boy's jaw has Severus offering him a choice instead of simply withholding credit for the lesson. "I'd advise against testing it, and suggest taking the 'T'."
The response is so predictable, Severus almost has to wonder if he should see this as setting the boy up. Weasley rolls up his sleeve defiantly and smears a ridiculously generous amount of the salve down his arm. The reaction is also predictable. Everywhere the Salve touched, his skin sprouts aggressive green growths. Painful green growths. The Moggie drops to his knees holding his arm outstretched from his body - as though that could limit the spread - and wailing piteously with the pain.
"'T'," Severus informs him, perhaps a little callously, but this had been avoidable, and he doesn't suffer fools gladly. Taking Zabini's potion from the boy as a small gesture to make up for his earlier rebuffs, bygones, Severus holds it up for all to see and announces, "This is how it's done." Gesturing to Weasley's sad creation, he adds, "This is not." Zabini is practically beaming - reparations made, cheers - but the difference should be patently obvious even to an evident troglodyte like the momentarily miserable Moggie. With a bit of luck, perhaps he'll learn from it... Severus won't be holding his breath, however.
"You'll need to see about getting some base by tomorrow's class," he repeats. "Speak to Touchstone about it should that be an issue for you. He'll be requiring some as well." Touchstone nods readily, not pleased with the result, naturally, but equally having no desire to suffer like Weasley. He's content to take Severus' word on the matter. In as much as he was assigning them their grades either way, he can't imagine how Weasley thought his piss poor attempt at proving him wrong would end well. He could have failed him at any point along the line had that been the goal. Obviously it was not.
Ironically, for entirely personal reasons, just at present he's possibly more concerned with the class' success than he's ever been before. The Board and the Ministry were very real threats. Leave it to a Moggie to fail to recognise it.
On the other hand they had a demoralising way of landing on their feet no matter the height of the fall, so perhaps their assessment of the potential threat was duly learnt... Hmm.
"Potter, may I prevail upon you to take Weasley to Infirmary?" He addresses the only other Gryffindor in the course. Potter doesn't seem exactly pleased at the idea, but the request was polite enough and evidently unsure who else would help Weasley, he soon agrees.
Severus' Tempus chimes and the class begins to leave, Potter supporting his roommate and leading the way.
Once they've made the exit, Zabini calls out to Touchstone surreptitiously as he packs his things together. "Psst, Tor, when you think about it, Weasel didn't actually order any base from you, did he?" Touchstone allows that the Moggie had not. "You might want to order some on spec and charge him double if he needs it." Severus smirks, his Snakes are still true to form. Ostensibly busying himself with the phials on his desk, he observes them covertly through the drape of his hair.
"I could always just not order some for him," Touchstone considers as he slings his satchel of books over his shoulder. Hmm.
"Don't be daft, Tor," Miss Wilkins chides, taking his free arm. "Professor Snape practically told you to." And that would be why Severus likes the young woman, cheers.
"Technically he didn't," Draco points out, technically correct, and of course the only one of them who would risk disobeying him on such tenuous grounds, the little nit. Draco had always dared more and taken more liberties, but fewer by far since Voldemort's encampment at the Manor. The last two years had seen him greatly diminished; as annoying as he can occasionally be, it's still good to see his godson resembling his old self more of late. With some ambivalence, Severus acknowledges some of that must be down to Potter of all people...
Zabini scoffs at Draco's observation, shaking his head, "Definitely order them. That way you're in the clear. Why wouldn't you? Given your family would be sending it to you, returns shouldn't be an issue anyway. And did you see the way Weasel's arm looked? There's no way he's going to be able to get an order out on his own in time to have the Mender potion base by tomorrow morning. He'll be lucky if we see him for dinner..." Blaise is most likely underestimating Madam Pomfrey's skill, but he's rather pleased with himself at the moment, convinced as he is that his constant needling had contributed to the Weasel's poor performance. Result!
"Those lot have their Order of Merlin stipends now," Hutchinson, one of the seventh year Chasers, adds his objection to Zabini's plan, finally joining in, practical and observant as always. "Double the price won't make any difference to him, not like it used to anyway..." As the only one of them who actually has to watch his Knuts, and very carefully at that, it makes a sad sort of sense that he's the one that occurs to.
"In that case, you might even be able to charge him triple," Zabini, warming to his idea, remains enterprising. "It's either pay what you ask or take another 'T'. In fact, never mind, just do it, Tor. I'll foot the bill." Grinning wolfishly, he settles the issue once and for all, taking the decision out of Touchstone's healed hands.
Severus chuckles as he watches them file out of his classroom. He hasn't the foggiest notion what's going on between Zabini and Weasley, but yes, it's clearly personal.
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