Chapter 2

These characters belong to JKR, bless her

Master of Enchantment

Chapter 2

Severus Snape sat motionless in the leather wingchair before the fireplace in the staff lounge. The windows were open to the soft breezes of the summer night; in deference to the season, his goblet held a dry Riesling, rather than the brandy he favored in cooler weather.

Dinner in Minerva's quarters had been tedious. Her cooking was passable, at best. The Headmaster joined them, and Severus was aware that Dumbledore was at his interfering best. Dumbledore and Minerva were shamelessly attempting to make a match between Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin. In Snape's opinion, not even a loud-mouthed, clumsy Metamorphmagus with all the feminine charm of a Bowtruckle would want to marry a werewolf – even a werewolf with a new steady job as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. As for the werewolf, he would be lucky to get any woman to marry his defective arse.

Severus glowered as he thought about Lupin. For the second time, Lupin had been selected, over his own application for the job, to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. In the glow of cooperation and tolerance following the war, even a werewolf could become a respectable professional. The improvements to the Wolfsbane Potion meant that he need only spend the nights of the full moon cycle as a werewolf; his days could be spent in the classroom.

It was not as if Severus wished any ill for Lupin. He had never been a friend during their school years, but neither had he been one of Severus' chief tormentors, as James Potter and Sirius Black were. In their time serving in the Order during the war, Severus and Lupin had developed an easy working relationship. Not a friendship – never a friendship; Severus neither had, nor desired, friends.

Severus sat forward and poured another goblet of wine, then drained half of it. He did not enjoy reminiscing. There were very few fond memories from his past that he would voluntarily recall. However, a crisis was upon him now, and he was brooding.

Hermione Granger. The insufferable, buck-toothed, bushy-haired, know-it-all little pain-in-the-arse of a Gryffindor student with that preposterous name had become an alluring, educated, enticing woman with a head of soft brown curls, perfectly proportioned teeth – hell, perfectly proportioned everything, as far as one could discern in those damn robes – and eyes the color of amber in firelight. She was a threat and he was giving her hell for it, but he needed a plan.

It wasn't until this morning at breakfast that Albus and Minerva had dropped on him the bombshell that the 157th Annual Wizarding Education Symposium would be held at Hogwarts on August 22, and that Severus had the happy chore of organizing the event. To assist him with the added burden of this onerous task, they were hiring an assistant to whom he could delegate much of the work.

Never at his best before ingesting a judicious quantity of caffeine, it did not occur to Severus until after his fourth cup, in his study, while idly perusing an alchemy journal, that Dumbledore had been entirely too blasé about the whole assistant question. Undoubtedly, he was to be saddled with some nitwit who would drive him insane with ineptitude.

Immediately, he stood and threw Floo powder into the fireplace.

"Headmaster Albus Dumbledore."

Dumbledore's head appeared as if suspended in air above the grate.

"Yes, Severus?"

Severus sat on the low stool by the hearth and asked, "May I inquire as to the identity of the assistant I am to have?"

"Certainly. A former student, who has completed the University coursework and has not yet accepted a position, is currently free and has agreed to help out for the summer."

Severus found himself with a curiously tight grip on the container of Floo powder, but did not react when it shattered in his grasp and dusted his clothing with glittering flecks. She had outfoxed him. Ignoring her owls and party invitations was not enough of a snub. He would be saddled with Hermione Granger, working daily, in close approximation, for the longest summer of his life.

"You mean, Headmaster, Hermione Granger."

"Well, yes, Severus. How ever did you guess?"

After lunch, Severus requested a meeting with Dumbledore, who graciously agreed to see him at two o'clock.

At the appointed time, Severus approached the gargoyles guarding the Headmaster's office and said, "Pepper Imp," gaining entrance to the revolving staircase. In the office, Dumbledore greeted him and sat regarding Severus gravely.

"Headmaster, when I was injured in the battle at the Riddle estate, I was unconscious for three days. You told me you used Legilimency to ascertain what I had discovered of the Death Eaters' plans and their whereabouts."

Severus stopped, at an uncharacteristic loss for words. Of all the people in the world, only in the presence of this man could he let down his guard. It did not, however, make it any easier for him to expose the least particle of vulnerability.

Dumbledore spoke into the silence. "You wonder if perhaps I became aware of information that did not pertain to the Dark Lord's movements."

Severus nodded and made eye contact with Dumbledore, who stated, "There were many thoughts very close to the surface, no doubt due to your belief that you were about to die, Severus. Images of your parents, of your childhood, moments with Lord Voldemort, and with other Order members, were at the forefront of your mind when you were injured."

There was a certain desperation in Severus's expression as he opened his mouth to speak but was forestalled by Dumbledore, who held up his hand in a halting gesture.

"Yes, Severus, I witnessed your moment with Hermione Granger when she was in fear of her parents' lives. No, she has not been invited to Hogwarts to assist with the Education Symposium as a matchmaking attempt. I am fully aware of your sentiments on the subject, in spite of the – let us say, Special Circumstances – that exist between you. I do not, however, see why Miss Granger should be penalized when she wishes to accept the temporary position of Assistant Symposium Coordinator."

Severus sat for a moment, staring at his hands in his lap. Special Circumstances? Dumbledore was right on top of the game, per usual. Abruptly, Severus stood, his eyes still averted, and said, "Thank you, Headmaster. I appreciate your frankness. I will not take any more of your time."

Severus left as quickly as possible, unaware of Dumbledore's indulgent smile or of the carefully crossed fingers hidden beneath the Headmaster's desk.

Severus moved to the window in the staff lounge; the air was turning cool, and it was time to close it. The sight of Hermione, strolling the grounds in the starlight, caused him to close his eyes and press his forehead to the cool windowpane.

How he despised weakness! His father was so weak, such a drunkard, and a bully, dealing with his wife and son with his fists and with cruel hexes and curses. His mother was so weak, cowering before his father, submitting to his tyranny, making such feeble attempts to shield her only child from the brutality of Sedgwick Snape. Severus burned with anger as he recalled how his father had destroyed her wand and forced her to do her own housework without magic, like a Muggle. He raged inside as he recalled the penury of their home, the hand-me-down, shabby clothes he was forced to wear, relics of the Snape cousins he was seldom allowed to see. And all the while, his bastard of a father wore fine clothes, had expensive liquor, expensive tobacco, and expensive women, all of which he was not above flaunting in the faces of his long-suffering wife and his furious son.

Severus' only solace was the dusty boxes of magic books in the cellar. His mother once told him that the books had been his grandfather Snape's library. From the time he began to read, at the age of five, he would sit, poring over the books. He was convinced that somewhere in these manuals was the answer to his father's violence. If he learned the proper spell, his father wouldn't be so angry all of the time and would love Severus and his mother. He began with the illustrated texts, demonstrating how to use one's wand, transfiguration exercises, and elementary potion-making. As his comprehension grew, he delved into the volumes with no pictures, books full of ever-darker magic. As he read his way through his grandfather's collection, his eager brain stored the tantalizing information. When he opened the last box and saw the aged spell books, some written in English so old he could barely decipher it, he felt a thrill of power.

He had just turned eleven and would be starting at Hogwarts in the fall. He had not found the magic to make his father love him, but he could acquire the capacity to make his father cower and quail before him.

The ancient tomes were the first things he packed in his Hogwarts trunk, and he proudly displayed them in his Slytherin dormitory. Among his peers, the Dark Arts texts were equally attracting and repelling. His knowledge made him a useful ally; it also made him a dangerous enemy.

Severus forced himself to walk away from the window, from which he could see Hermione. Taking the bottle of wine, he upended it, pouring the remaining liquid into his goblet and tossed off the lot. He placed the goblet back on the table and squared his shoulders. Fortitude came from recognizing and capitalizing on your assets. He had identified his strengths early in his school career. He was a sneaky little bastard, as Lucius Malfoy, who was a seventh year when Severus began at Hogwarts, so aptly phrased it. Severus was loyal to his House, Slytherin, and had no scruples about screwing over anyone outside of it. He caught on quickly and was an ambitious student who excelled in all of his classes, except for flying lessons. He mortified himself the first day of flying class by falling from his broom like a Muggle child on a bicycle, while the girl next to him laughed at him and the boys hooted and jeered. Severus did not suffer humiliation well. It scalded him like acid and reminded him of being in the presence of his father.

Sedgwick Snape did not fancy the notion of his clever, tyrannized, and incensed son with a wand in his hand. For that reason, Severus spent his holidays and his summers at Hogwarts from age eleven on. His mother was permitted to communicate with him by owl, and his father would grudgingly supply the minimum amount of gold necessary to buy robes and books each year – second-hand, of course – but other than that, Severus was like a foundling without a home.

He spent those summers at Hogwarts, enjoying an autonomy he had never known before. He studied the subjects that appealed to him (the Dark Arts), practiced his wand work (hexes, the better to attack Potter and Black), and experimented with potions, for which he had an unusual flair. For relaxation, he took one of the school brooms to the Quidditch pitch and taught himself to fly through trial and error, without the mocking eyes of his classmates to scorn him to shame. His activities were casually directed by the teachers who were in and out, involved in their own summer pursuits. It was not surprising that he got excellent marks in each subject he attempted in his O.W.L. year, nor that he did the same on his N.E.W.T.s.

Sedgwick Snape was wise to eschew the company of the son who abhorred him, for Severus grew into a powerful wizard, an authority to be reckoned with, whose calling was potion-making, but whose passion was the Dark Arts.

Oddly enough, by the time Severus left Hogwarts, he no longer cared to revenge himself upon his father or to rescue his mother from her chosen slavery. He went on to University, and in his first year there, his parents died in a house fire, no doubt caused by his father's pathetic habit of smoking in his bed. In attending to their obsequies, Severus discovered that years before, his mother had inherited a small family estate with a house and grounds, including a monthly stipend of gold. It had been his father's practice to take all of the gold each month and spend it on himself. The estate had been neglected; Severus knew that Sedgwick Snape would never have permitted his wife to move to a place where she would have any natural allies against his brutality. They had died in the shabby house where Severus had lived his childhood years. Now, at the age of 19, Severus was finally free of his parents. At last, he had gold and property of his own, with no more family ties, however tenuous. It was an independence he had never known before.

But by then, he had already come to the attention of Lord Voldemort, whose many interesting projects for Severus constituted slavery of a different sort.

His unfortunate manner and personal habits continued with him until he returned to Hogwarts as a teacher. In spite of his dalliance with the Dark Lord, Albus Dumbledore believed him, trusted him, and accepted him. Dumbledore also began to quietly instruct Severus in matters of personal hygiene as well as demeanor. Severus accepted this subtle tutoring with a gratitude he was incapable of expressing. He would never win Witch Weekly's Congeniality Award, but he learned how to conduct himself in polite company, how to groom himself appropriately, and even, at the behest of Minerva McGonagall, the niceties of ballroom dancing.

For the last ten years, Dumbledore and McGonagall had been encouraging him to marry. Privately, he could not imagine the woman he could endure for longer than a good weekend of shagging.

Severus had a well-ordered, controlled life. He had meaningful employment, facilities for his personal research, contact with other professional people among the Hogwarts staff, and time for his infrequent recreational pursuits. When he wanted a woman, he bought one. He had never had an ongoing sexual relationship, much less a romance, with a female. He had no use for love. He had seen love first-hand. His mother's "love" for him, her "love" for his father – love made him ill.

But these people, the staff at Hogwarts, were his family. His unspoken devotion to Dumbledore was the closest approach to affection that he permitted himself. His cold demeanor might not provide much in the way of reciprocation for the other teachers' inclusion of him in their lives at Hogwarts, but he served them in other ways, such as brewing potions, and undertaking administrative tasks. This place was his home. He was respected and accepted here. For all the healing, learning, and growing he had experienced in his adult life, Severus still could not abide vulnerability on any front. He would never, ever voluntarily place himself in a position, which could result in ridicule. His rigid control over every aspect of his life was his security.

There, then, was the answer to the riddle of what to do about Miss Hermione Granger. Nothing. He would continue to repel her personally, in every way, at every opportunity, while maintaining a civil (by his standards) working relationship. Above all, he must have no physical contact with her, Special Circumstances be damned. It was only one summer, after all.

Some forms of comfort were forever beyond him, so he had to take his pleasures where he found them – usually cowering in his Potions classes.

Before he knew it, there would be a whole new class of first year Gryffindors for him to torment.