Chapter 6 - Quidditch & Qualms

Instructing the Professor

Chapter 6 – Quidditch & Qualms

The following day proved to be a remarkably fine day for November. The gossips and speculations du jour were all directed towards the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Severus was quite ready for breakfast as soon as he was up; and when he had swallowed his coffee and consumed a sandwich, he was eager to head for the pitch. Noticing his unusual agitation, his friends sought to entertain away his edgy get-up-and-go with morsels of anecdotal stories. Lucius Malfoy was chatty and convivial, and was no friend to the notion of early preparation for Quidditch matches. Nott and Avery sought to amuse him with stories of the latest occurrences outside the school. Severus, therefore, had little reason to feel poorly. From the amusement afforded to his mind that Potions Mistress had condescended to attend a Quidditch match, he was willing to overlook his friends' impositions and improprieties. His good humour was further heightened by the fact that he had received no taunt from the Gryffindor Quartet that morning. Perhaps he should rephrase that to Gryffindor Trio now that Peter Pettigrew had moved to the side of power. Severus smirked in self-satisfaction with the knowledge that even Potter and Black's friend could not tolerate their blatant arrogance.

The Gryffindor table broke into a loud peal of laughter as Potter said something; Severus scowled in disdain. Evidently, the sweet tempered Lily Evans did not improve that useless excuse of a human being. Her grace and talents were completely wasted on Potter. She was certainly not forceful and proudly insouciant like Professor Herigone Grenarm. He turned his attention to the High Table to see if he could catch her eyes. To his immense surprise, she was conspicuously absent. He sighed inwardly, he should have known better than to think a greasy git like him could inspire anything but annoyance in anyone.

Whatever Severus's sentiments before the Quidditch match, he was greatly heartened to see her looking as indifferent as she was to everything when she appeared in the Teacher's Box. His Potions Mistress made no attempt to catch his eye, nor did she dress to indicate her support of any team. She was still in one of her severe grey dresses and billowing grey robe. He smirked to himself when he noted her curling her lips scornfully to some students offering her Gryffindor and Slytherin scarves. She appeared to be mouthing something to the effect of 'allez-vous en'.

"She came just as she had promised," he whispered to himself. His constant furtive glances at her direction did not succeed in catching her attention. He noted with slight disappointment that she was too engrossed in her book to bother about the Quidditch match. He curled his upper lip into a smirk when he approvingly noticed her pointed disregard to Professor Flitwick's attempts at conversation. Besides, it was a most distressing game thus far. Potter and Black were the darlings of the Quidditch crazed student populace and though the Slytherins were playing a good game, they found themselves trailing behind the Gryffindors. He neatly spiralled out of a Bludger's way when Lucius shouted at him as he passed him the Quaffle.

"Good Lucius," he thought with a sardonic grin. He was vainer than Potter, if that was possible, and it was clear that most of the girls fancied him even if they were too frightened to run after a Slytherin.

Severus dodged again as he heard a whistling sound past his ear followed by Sirius's laughter and James yelling, "Snape, get out of the way!"

"Why?" he retorted above the roar of the wind, careering out of James' way. "So that you can win? You already have your prize, Potter, leave me to my own devices."

"Snape, you fool!" shouted the bespectacled Potter looking quite exasperated. "Sirius has done something..."

The Bludger zigzagged past him as he simultaneously dodged it while hitting the Quaffle to Nott.

"Snape, listen!" insisted James, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge and twisting upside down his broom alongside Severus. "Snape! Watch for the Bludger!"

But the warning came too late; as soon as those words passed James Potter's lips, the heavy object hit Severus in the nose just as he rolled upside down to avoid it. Sirius laughed mischievously, its ringing tones resounding in Severus's ears as the Bludger renewed its attack and smashed into his nose again, effectively pelting him off his broom. The stunned spectators were left speechless as Severus hit the ground with a dull thud. He tried sitting up and found that he was unable to do so and everything faded to black. He soon came around to find himself lying on the Quidditch pitch weakly rolling to avoid the Bludger that had started to bludgeon his arm. While rolling for his life, he heard a distinctively feminine voice shout, "Finite Incantatem!"

There was a sound of a small explosion following it and he strained his neck to determine the scene about him. The owner of that voice then rushed towards him. He heard the rustling of a skirt. "Not again!" he heard her mutter.

Though riddled with pain, he smirked triumphantly at her and declared quietly so that only she could hear, "Your accent's slipping, Professor Grenarm."

A thicket of legs soon gathered around him as Sirius's characteristic snigger was heard above the gasps and half muted whispers of horror.

"Potter!" commanded Hermione in her thick French accent, her face completely pale but emotionless. "Fetch Madame Pomfrey. Now!" She clapped her hands sharply to emphasise the urgency. "And you dunderheads! Let him have some air! Monsieur Snape, do not fidget."

She pressed a white handkerchief to his nose and she turned brusquely to Sirius. As she did so, her impassive mask fell. Severus inhaled her scent from the handkerchief and fingered the embroidered H and G on it. Damn Black and his so-called 'jocular antics'! He would not be surprised if that miscreant one day betrayed his friends.

Severus heard his Potions Mistress's slightly trembling shriek, "What were you trying to do, Monsieur Black! Do you want to kill him!"

"Oh, Professor Grenarm," he laughed mirthfully, clutching his stomach. "It was only a joke!"

"A JOKE! A JOKE!" Hermione screamed, struggling to maintain her accent. "I have seen something like..." She paused to calm herself when she saw that Lucius had helped Severus to sit up. "Je l'ai déjà vue. Imbécile! I know what damage it can do! Detention with Monsieur Filch for a fortnight!"

Having dismissed the unapologetic Sirius, she flew back to Severus's side. She was not surprised to find him staring at her with that intelligible look she knew so well. "Non, Monsieur Snape," she said in his brain when she felt him probing her mind. "Do not try your legilimency on me! I've studied with the best."

It was now Severus's turn to be taken aback. How did she now he was about to probe her mind? She must be a formidable witch from one of the aristocratic French wizarding families. He smirked weakly at her when she revealed to his mind the truth of her parentage. "No," he thought as Madam Pomfrey examined him and chased everyone but Lucius and the teachers away. "She is not who she says she is and she's a mudblood! No! She's muggle-born. Damn my eyes! Would I never had set eyes on her!"

His eyes followed her movement when she rose to speak to Dumbledore. Her eyes shone brilliantly; she had one arm on her hip and another angry hand sternly pointed in his direction. She was so agitated that a stray lock had fallen from her chignon. To everybody but Severus, she almost resembled a shrieking madwoman. He sighed inwardly and thought on the beauty of her character. Her temperament was like her lovely hairy legs – unfettered and wild. The true stature of her moral fibre spoke for itself. And she was a mudblood, his brain reminded him. "What was it with me and these muggle-borns?" he mused with some distaste as Madam Pomfrey moved to help him to the infirmary. First, Lily Evans and now Herigone Grenarm! He laughed bitterly, alarming Lucius who tried to shush him.

"He's delirious," muttered Madam Pomfrey to a dishevelled and anxious looking Lucius, who nodded in concurrence.

Severus groaned as they got him to his feet. His Potions Mistress was an amalgamation of Minerva McGonagall and something else that was distinctly cold and shrewd. She had been concerned for his welfare! He was somewhat pleased. But that pleasure soon faded when he noticed the object of his observations accepting the Headmaster's arm. He felt a pang of an uncomfortable stirring above his stomach when he saw them stroll towards the Forbidden Forest. He shut his eyes at the pain coursing through his body and his breathing quickened – she did not bother to stay with him. She preferred an old man like Dumbledore to him! It was not fair!

Such thoughts occupied his stay in the infirmary; nothing would lift his despondent frame of mind. Avery had coerced the house elves into giving him a cup of his favourite Turkish coffee but he was in no mood to drink it. Not even Lucius's gift of a book of dark potions restored his cool logic. He scowled at his friends and snapped at anybody who came near.

"Severus, old boy," said Lucius as he flicked his long blonde hair away from his face, "We'll teach Black a lesson tomorrow!"

He coldly regarded his friend. "Have you no finesse or sense, Malfoy?" he spat, "Dumbledore would know it was you! You leave your marks around too perceptibly, even Filch would know it was your effrontery!"

Avery laughed at the invalid's ill humour. "Didn't you once say 'nothing ventured, nothing gained'? Or do you think the Potions Bitch will rescue you again? I guess after today, anything is possible!"

Severus turned to him with a hateful glare and a twitch of a nerve by the lips that Lucius knew meant trouble. However, he chose to do nothing, for he liked nothing better than watching mayhem unfold.

"Do not call her that in my presence again!" snarled Severus through his teeth in a quietly judicious manner. Lucius cocked an eyebrow; he had expected Severus to explode with rage instead of moderating himself. As Severus had fallen silent and was staring intently at something past Avery, he followed his friend's black eyes and found that they rested on Professor Grenarm. She was leaning casually at the doorway, waiting for an opportune time to speak to him.

"Ha! Ha! Severus's preserver has arrived. Come, Avery, we know when we're not wanted," said Lucius with a disapproving look at his friend. "Let us leave him to the lady."

Severus stared at her as she made her way to the chair next to his bed.

"How is the patient?" she asked carelessly, her face emotionless as she gestured him to keep the proffered bloodied handkerchief.

He scowled, unconsciously folding and refolding her handkerchief. "Why the pretence? You can drop your accent with me, Professor," he drawled in a dangerously low tone, tracing his lips.

"Very clever, Monsieur Snape," she replied, thickening her French inflection. "Walls have ears, n'est ce pas?"

"Who are you?" he asked when she bent to inspect his nose. His stomach warmed considerably when she took his chin in her hand to better examine his features.

"You look all right, almost as handsome as ever. You should fix your teeth – it spoils your smirk," she rambled, ignoring his question.

He paled at her compliment and told himself that she did not mean it. "Why did you come back?"

"WHAT?" she hissed, sounding herself again.

Severus smirked. "My dear Professor Grenarm, am I to believe that my charms are as great if not better than Professor Dumbledore's?" he purred lowly, narrowing his eyes and curling his upper lip exultantly. "I know my features are – striking."

"Insufferable! Can you put your analytical mind to better use?" she retorted crossly in her French drawl.

Both of them then sullenly folded their arms and glowered at each other.

"He is sprightly and cheerful, is he not?" he asked in a mock French accent.

She hotly rose from her seat and stormed to the door. It would not do to leave the conversation on this unpleasant note. Placing her hand at the archway, she sighed and steadied her temper.

"You are delusional, Monsieur Snape. You must realise by now that there are some things beyond your comprehension. There are necessary secrets that we all bear; these secrets we either keep close to our hearts or share with those whom we trust. There are times when information must be exchanged away from everyone else. You understand this, no? I am a woman who prides myself on my ability to keep secrets. A trait that you share, mon petit. You of all people should be aware of the importance of one's privacy," she responded still sustaining her lilting drawl. "You'll be graduating next June, Severus, try to grow up a little," she added seriously. "You have greatness within you and it will manifest itself at your darkest moment only if you learn to deal with the chips on your shoulder," she quietly said as she stood at the doorway with her back towards him.

Severus leaned back into his pillow, suddenly tired. She was an enigma. What did she mean by her cryptic words? So perturbed was he by these thoughts that he fell asleep still preoccupied with them.

Footnotes:

"Allez-vous en" means "Go away."

"Je l'ai déjà vue. Imbécile!" can be understood as, "I've seen it before. Imbecile!"

"Non, Monsieur Snape" is "No, Mr Snape."

"Mon petit" can be loosely translated as "my dear". It should be noted that "petit/petite" is a form of affection address which can mean "dearie" or "sweetheart". Depending on context, terms of endearment can also be used condescendingly in French.