Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Severus, please?" Minerva pleaded, "I know how much you hate teaching. Believe me; I've endured your grouching about it for nearly twenty years, after all! I wouldn't ask if I had another candidate."

Severus let out a non-comitial grunt. It was the last week in August, and he'd spent his summer wisely. He'd sold the dump going for a home in Spinner's End. Because of some insane idea from a Muggle man in a very ugly grey suit, he'd even got a nice sum for it, something about 'development'. Severus had, true to his role as a 'loyal' Death Eater, not kept up to date on Muggle society. He knew nothing of the way things worked. But he didn't complain about earning enough on the sale to buy a small cottage with extensive grounds in a very remote area of Wales. It didn't matter to him where it was. What mattered was that it was far enough away from everything to leave him in peace. In fact, Minerva was his first visitor in three weeks.

"School starts Monday, Severus. I simply can't have the Potions position unfilled. Please? I've already secured Mrs Rosewood for next year, but she can't start before then."

He grunted again. "And why, pray, can't she start before? No employer would demand that much of a warning."

"She's pregnant," Minerva replied heavily, "Even you can't expect her to teach with an infant strapped to her back."

This time Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't, indeed, and that annoyed him. He already felt his resolve of Not Teaching Ever Again dissolving. It wasn't like he had found another job that he liked. He had toyed with the idea of starting up a potions company, but he lacked funding. His only choice would be to start up by taking orders and producing the potions one by one in his small lab, a tedious way to do it.

"And no one else, I bet, was stupid enough to agree to teaching Potions to dunderheads," he drawled, just to have it said. This was just like in his dream.

"You can put it like that, if it makes you happier." She sounded exasperated. "The fact is that no one is competent for the job."

He sipped his tea in silence. Minerva helped herself to a slice of the cake she had brought herself and then sliced and conjured a plate for it. She knew him well enough to know Severus Snape didn't have cake in case someone stopped by for tea.

"So, how's your idea for a potions business coming along?" she asked at last.

"Oh, fine," he snapped, "I'll do it, but just for one year, mind you! One year!"

She tried to hide a smile. She'd never been very good at hiding anything, and so she failed dismally. "Thank you." The warmth in her voice, if he was honest, made him feel good, not that he would ever have admitted that to her.

"As long as I can continue with my projects in my private time," he demanded. He could use the school lab to brew his potions. That way he need only worry about ingredients, and it would be a nice side-income.

"Of course," she enthused. Severus felt sure the woman would have said the same if he'd asked to bring his pet dragon along.

"Who will I be teaching? Who's in sixth- and seventh-years' Potions?" Better to start out prepared; there were plenty of idiots in those classes.

Minerva poured herself a second cup of tea, rattling off the names of students in sixth-year Potions while Severus filed them away in his usual two folders for students, 'Dunderheads' and 'Tolerable'. As usual there were few in the 'Tolerable' group, just two, and one of them under doubt.

"Horrible, as usual," he drawled. "Seventh year, then?"

Minerva cast him a cross look. She never liked to hear him speak the truth about her precious students.

"If I wasn't desperate –" she replied, her grouchiness not reaching past the surface, "–Ah, well. I didn't expect you to become sociable any more than I expected you to grow a second head, Severus." She looked at him rather fondly, though.

"Seventh year now ... those I trust you can remember. Plus, some of the older students are coming back. Mr Longbottom decided to come back. Mr Potter–"

"Hold it!" Severus snapped, putting his cup down with a bang. "Longbottom?" Not in Potions. That boy was a health hazard. He'd nearly blown up himself and, more importantly, Severus, on several occasions. The boy was competent enough, certainly more so than Ron Bloody Weasley, but not near a cauldron.

"Not to Potions, of course. Miss Granger and Mr Potter, however, took that class."

He swallowed. "Miss Granger is returning?" he asked, trying to sound casual, "And Mr Potter?" Why, if he'd be forced back to teach Potions, just like in his dream, didn't the ... better parts of his dream come true? While he was used to being alone, Severus wouldn't have objected to the company of an intelligent, pretty, young woman, especially one so fond of spending time in bed as his Hermione. Seeing a hope, after all, he processed the information. Miss Granger and Mr Potter would be coming back to Hogwarts. Did that mean he was free of the Weasley Idiot? And, even more important, that Miss Granger would be away from her idiotic boyfriend.

"Yes, and Mr Weasley, but he's dropping Potions, so you don't have to worry about him." Minerva seemed to know he would loathe teaching the Weasley Idiot.

"At least that means one less imbecile," he drawled, "Are the four of them still jumping each other like rabid teenagers and shagging at every available opportunity?"

"Severus!" Minerva actually jumped in her chair. "How can you say things like that?"

He smirked. Did his accurate description of her precious little Gryffindors shock her Victorian morals? "If I'm going back to teaching, that means I'll be responsible for the hormone-crazed little devils. I prefer to be forewarned."

"Well, if you're referring to Mr Potter and Miss Weasley, then they are indeed a couple,' she replied, her voice a stern tone of disapproval.

"They better be, the way those two were sneaking off to rut. Let's hope she manages to leave school before they start sprouting little Potters." He shuddered at the mere idea. The only bright side was that he'd not be forced to teach those Potters. Hah!

"Honestly, Severus!" Minerva berated. "I'd almost think you've become worse over the summer!"

"Thank you,' he replied, inclining his head. "And Miss Granger and the youngest Weasley boy?"

"I believe they are dating, yes." Ever the diplomat. Severus narrowed his eyes; she was still with the idiot, then.

To be entirely honest – and Severus rarely was entirely honest, even to himself – he couldn't just let his hope of a happy future go, not that he hadn't tried. He had spent most of his summer trying to remind himself that Miss Granger was not and would never become his Hermione. She hadn't read the right books, she didn't argue with him, and worst of all – she had lowered herself to dating Ron Bloody Weasley, The Idiot. The Freckle-Faced Rubbish Disposal. The Boy Who Could Swallow Half an Ox Without Chewing. It had been a long summer. Severus had wanked to many glorious memories of his Hermione. He had invented roughly a thousand snide, rude or plain nasty nicknames for Ron Weasley.

If he had been the type to play darts, he would have obtained a full body picture of the boy, bull's-eye conveniently placed just below the belt. Alas, Severus Snape didn't play darts. He had contemplated using the boy for spell-practice instead; five points for hexing off his knee, ten for taking out an eye, twenty for making him an eunuch. Just the idea of Weasley made him nauseous, the actual sight would put him off his lunch. Tempting as the idea of hexing him was, Severus refrained, telling himself that he was an adult. He would behave maturely. Or, if Weasley ever touched Herm – Miss Granger – in front of him again, he'd hex the boy's buttocks so badly that he couldn't sit again until he was a grandfather, if ever. He had been a Death Eater, for crying out loud. There had to be permanent hexes out there, something nasty that Poppy couldn't mend.

–––

It was the first of September. Severus had fortified himself with a tumbler of Firewhisky for breakfast. Not a thing he normally indulged in, but a castle soon to be filled with dunderheads required a drink. Especially a castle soon to be filled with dunderheads and Miss Granger.

Over the last week, he had mulled it over. He could try to be nice to her. Woo her. He had no illusions about his own appearances, but he still didn't think Ron Bloody Weasley could have something to offer a woman that Severus couldn't. What would that be? Looks? The red-haired boy was freckled beyond belief. He had red hair! Red hair was, in Severus' opinion, far worse than oily hair prone to looking greasy. Intelligence? Hah! Magical abilities? Unlikely. Few could beat Severus there. As any young man, Weasley would hardly be able to grant a woman true pleasure. Fumbling, he was sure, was Weasley's best in bed. The only thing, in fact, that Ron Weasley had and Severus Snape didn't have was youth. And Miss Granger, of course. For now.

Severus was back in the game. He would not sit around and watch Hermione – Miss Granger – ruin her life with The Idiot, nor would he sit around and be tortured by the sight of her kissing him. While she was in the castle, he was determined to behave nicely to her. The rest of the dunderheads could rot for all he cared.

Walking up from his old quarters in the dungeons, he made sure his robes billowed behind him. Students ought to be intimidated; it kept them from making trouble in his classes. After a summer of not billowing, he needed the practice. Striding across the Entrance Hall and into the Great Hall well before the carriages would arrive, he settled into his old chair and focused on looking intimidating. He schooled his expression into a neutral one, lifted one eyebrow in mocking question, and then sneered disdainfully. Satisfied that his repertoire wasn't rusty, he folded his arms across his chest and waited for the dunderheads to pour in and start scrambling for their seats, bringing with them meowing familiars and bad table manners.

When the first students entered the Great Hall, they were stunned at how normal it all looked. There were the four House tables and the High table. The teachers were much the same as before the war. To their great disappointment, even Professor Snape was back, sneering like always. He might be a war hero to their parents, but to the students of Hogwarts he was still a mean, point-deducting bat.

The evening progressed as normal. The first-years were sorted into their houses; the meal was eaten among loud talking. Severus spent his time categorising them all out in his head: 'dunderhead', 'likely catastrophe near a cauldron'. He only made notes to the negative. Any students passed over without comment fell into his 'tolerable' category. Since he started with the Slytherins, he didn't reach Her – Miss Granger – until dessert had been served. Her face was prettily blushed from the wind outside followed by the warmth inside; Potter next to her, then Miss Weasley, sitting so close she was nearly on his lap. Across the table sat Ron Weasley, stuffing his mouth with pudding like a pig.

Severus sneered and looked away. At least he didn't have Weasley in his Potions class. While the opportunity would have been perfect to 'accidentally' poison him, Severus didn't fancy spending time in Azkaban.

Nobody looked at Snape for too long a time at once. If he caught someone staring, he was rumoured to turn nasty. Points would go flying even before they'd had their first classes, or detentions earned and spent sorting out disgusting, slimy things down in the draughty dungeons. If anyone had looked at him they might have noticed that one corner of his mouth twitched slightly as Hermione Granger rose to leave. It wasn't a smile – Severus Snape never smiled – but it was definitely a positive expression. If they had kept on looking, they might have noticed the narrowing of his eyes that followed, the sneer on his lips, even the way he flexed his hands as if he wanted to strangle someone. If said observer had followed his gaze, they would have seen Ron Weasley casually drape his arm over Hermione Granger's shoulders.

Still the happy couple, then. Severus would have to plan this very thoroughly.

Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I feel sort of nervous about posting this, as I know just where it's going, and fear it might not live up to your expectations. However, tell me what you think; I love reviews! Right now I'm writing away on chapter seven, so there's plenty of story left to post! :)

Also, thanks to Annie who makes this readable!