The Ways of Slytherin by rdholmantx

The Ways of Slytherin by rdholmantx

This chapter is dedicated to Avi, whose favorite word is, “Ewwwwww.” Yes. With all the W’s. Mmmmm… W... where’s my W action figure with Word-Invention-Action… Oh. There he is. “Strategery!” Wait, what was I saying? Oh. Right. Avi. Yes, this is dedicated to him. Special thanks as always to my betas: ladyinthecloak and sunny33.

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Catherine looked at her card with a sense of dread. While she enjoyed the camaraderie that she had with the other girls, she was not a fan of a game that purposely tried to annoy Professor Snape. Truth be told, she was rather fond of Professor Snape. Not like that, but people from other houses just didn’t understand. They didn’t understand his dry wit and acerbic humor. What they saw as favoritism of his own house was really his fierce protection of those under his care. They’d never seen him comfort a homesick first-year crying their eyes out. She sighed. The words on the card glowed yellow, taunting her.

“Go on, then. Tell us.” Bernise nudged her.

“Tell Snape that a Death Eater wants to have a threesome with him and You-Know-Who.” Well, that wasn’t so bad. No, not far from the truth, actually. Not that she could tell the others any specifics.

A chorus of, “EWWWWWWWW,” went around the Room of Requirement. Catherine inwardly smirked. To the others, she said, “Bugger. All the Death Eaters are supposed to be locked up. He’s never going to believe me, and he’s going to put me in detention for the rest of the year.”

“How hard could his detentions be? He likes you Slytherins,” this from Vera.

“He’ll put me in detention with Filch. Creepy little Squib…”

Another chorus of, “EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.”

“Well, I guess I’ll give it a go. Maybe I’ll tell him it was McNair. Everyone knows he was a Death Eater. I don’t want to find out what Fred and George Weasley have planned for those who don’t complete their tasks.”

***** ******

After breakfast the next morning, Catherine put her plan into action. As a seventh-year Slytherin, she could set an appointment with Professor Snape to discuss her post-Hogwarts career options. He would think it was odd since they’d already done that and he’d agreed to write a recommendation on her behalf for a Charms fellowship at Oxford, but she’d just tell him she was having second thoughts.

She wrote a quick note and threw it into the Floo, then began rummaging around in what she affectionately called her Box o’ treasure. Finding what she thought would be needed (besides a bottle of Ogden’s), she caught the Floo reply.

Fifteen minutes. My office. Do not be late.

She chuckled, reading the note. As if he had to tell Slytherins not to be late. It was ingrained in them since first year to always arrive one minute prior to the appointed time.

Arriving at the appointed time (well, one minute before), she heard him shout, “Enter,” before she even knocked. Not for the first time did she consider how much it must suck not to be a Slytherin.

“Good morning, Professor Snape.”

“Good morning, Miss Smith. I must tell you that I’m disturbed that you are having second thoughts about the Charms fellowship at Oxford. You are quite talented in Charms, and Oxford is a fine program.”

“Actually, sir, that’s not why I wanted to talk to you,” she said. She blushed a bit, hating to deceive her head of house.

“This had better not be a school-girl-crush confession.”

“What? Oh, no, sir! I mean, I respect you, and I appreciate how you always stick up for us, but it’s not like that at all! It’s just… something I heard when I was home last. I thought you might like to know. Aunt Bella came by for a visit.”

Snape went still instantly.

“I… see…”

“She and Father were drinking in the parlor. You know how Aunt Bella gets when she’s been drinking. After she curses all the Muggle-borns and comes up with a scheme to kill all the Weasleys, when she starts waxing poetic about the Dark Lord? A bit mad, I think, ever since Azkaban.”

“She was always a bit mad, yes. But she’s definitely worse now.”

“Well, she’d got to the point where she was talking about how he was her only lord and master and how much she enjoyed pleasing him…”

She noticed Professor Snape was starting to look green.

“And she saw me walk past the parlor. She asked me if you were still as sexually repressed as you always were. I didn’t know what to say, sir. Then she said, ‘What I wouldn’t give to get both the Dark Lord and Severus in a room and have my way with both of them at the same time.’ At that point my father chastised her for being so forward with me, since you’re my professor and head of house, and sent me from the room.” Professor Snape was definitely green. And sweating. Profusely.

He made a sound that sounded a bit like, “Mibble.”

“Professor Snape, sir, I’m sorry. I just thought you should know. In case the situation came up where you were in a room with the both of them. I mean, she’s kind of creepy anyway, and then I hear the Dark Lord has gone all serpentine lately…”

Professor Snape shuddered and gagged. It seemed the more he thought of the prospect, the more disturbed he became.

“Accio Firewhiskey,” he croaked out. Catherine caught the bottle and conjured a glass. Pouring him three fingers, she also handed him a bar of chocolate.

“I brought you some chocolate from America. I thought you might need it, after hearing that. It’s called Godiva. I think it’s much better than Cadbury’s Dairy Milk.”

Professor Snape downed the whiskey and shuddered again.

“Ew.”

“Yes, sir. I know.”

“Ew, ew, ew. You’re absolutely sure she said that?”

“Yes, sir. You can look into my mind, if you wish to verify. Perhaps I misunderstood, but I don’t think so.”

“Nooooo… then I’d have to see her. Ew.” Catherine poured another whiskey and pushed the chocolate towards him.

“Well, sir. I’ll just be going. Sorry to burden you with that. I just wanted you to be prepared.”

“And it’s appreciated, Miss Smith. Ew. Tell the prefects not to bother me this afternoon. I’m going to try to figure out a way to Obliviate myself without causing permanent brain damage. On second thought, perhaps permanent brain damage is preferable. Maybe I could find a Pensieve…”

Professor Snape, still talking to himself, drank the whiskey, took the bar of chocolate and disappeared into his chambers. As she left, Catherine slipped the card out of her pocket. The letters now glowed green.

Mission accomplished. And all before lunch.

As she passed the Gryffindor table on her way to eat with her fellow Slytherins, she winked at Bernise, flashed her card so she could see the green glowing letters, and whispered, “Good luck.”

Not that she thought Snape would go easy on Bernise. Not at all.

It must suck not to be a Slytherin.

And the fun continues…