Accio Firebolt!

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or the Harry Potter universe, but I love them. Your reviews are the only reward I crave.

It's been ages since I posted, so let me remind you of the school system at Salazar's Academy: lacking permanently engaged elves, they can't keep school up all the week through. There are only four days of lessons a week. Everyone leaves school after breakfast for three days with two nights in between. Severus and Ginny sometimes leave the night before. Students and teachers return for the night before the next set of four days schooling, called a period.

During N.E.W.T.s exams (previous chapter) and O.W.L.s exams (coming...), the school is vacated except for the year that's examined and staff. This break is a day longer, and the period shifts for a day. This fact isn't really important, but it might confuse you (and it should confuse the Order).

This generally allows five nights and the weekends full of D.E. activity for the parents, which is as much a goal of the school as is teaching. Saturday and Sunday, when the parents would not work, are among the school days.

The system comes with school days packed with lessons and a lot of homework over the free days.

Accio Firebolt!

They started the fifth period on Thursday, and after the chore-free break at the Malfoys', Severus felt new energy in his system. Despite the sunshine, Ginny dragged herself to the Apparition point in a grim and listless manner.

"We have to harvest crocuses next break," he noted lightly, but received a far too forceful reply.

"I hardly have anything else to do!"

Severus stopped and took her bag from her shoulder, efficiently braking her stomp. He tilted her face towards him with gentle pressure. He didn't need Legilimency to know what troubled his young charge.

"You have not had time to stomach the meeting with Fleur. Despite her assurances, you still don't know enough about your family, and you could not even afford dwelling on the thought because you've constantly been under observation."

Ginny blanched, her lower lip shaking.

"Ginevra, another four days and we'll be in our own place again. You will not give in now. You can hold out for these four days because you must. Breathe deep: in... and out."

Colour returned to her face.

"Others can count the days as well as we can, and they know how hard the last days have been on you. So there is no knowing who might try and break into your mind. Did Narcissa pry in?"

Now the young witch snorted, and her chin went up.

"She did. Several times in fact, and she showed the sensitivity of a troll ordered to tap dance."

With an effort, Severus kept his face straight. "Yes, her technique is lacking. But she tried. The mental dances of our headmistress can compete with Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake."

With his hand on the small of her back, Severus led her further, and she set her feet more gracefully now. He enforced her determination, saying, "I don't think we could have arranged anything differently, Ginevra. Next break will be different. We should also make time for Miss Taylor.

"For now, I suggest that we take the longer walk around the allotments."

As they walked briskly, a fresh breeze came up.

Severus sighed inwardly. Within a month the stink from the murky water in its concrete-regulated, Muggle-made stream bed and steep banks would fill the air, and by June it would become unbearable. He had never missed Spinner's End during the summer.

At Hogwarts, up in Scotland, the winds would still be harsh, but their school was considerably further in the south...although the pupils didn't know exactly where...and the weather would be much more agreeable.

With the sunshine and higher temperatures, serious outbursts of hormones would incapacitate the elder pupils while the younger ones would hardly rein in their urges to move long enough to brew a three-ingredient ointment. He would work them out hard in Defence in this period and encourage Slash to do the same in Duelling. This was the strategy that had helped at Hogwarts, provided that the Defence teacher was up to his task, which had been rare enough. Remus Lupin, Severus had to grant him that, had understood the problem and planned his lessons accordingly hard for the spring weeks.

Upon second thought, Severus concluded Lupin may have had easy access to the problem, thanks to his years as a Marauder haunting the grounds of the castle.

Severus growled. Lupin, McGonagall, the Order... annoying as they were, Severus had to ensure they reached their common goal. His letter to Minerva had been a dare, but with Fleur Weasley as a personal messenger, he had considered it worth the risk.

:*:*:*:

Even with the seventh-years gone, the students sat with their elbows touching in their Not-So-Great Hall.

Severus finished his supper with record speed. A note in his hands, he strode towards Ginny before she stood from the dinner table. The first- and second-years around her fled in such panic that he raised his brows, wondering aloud, "And what prank have I missed here?"

Ginny smirked and shook her head.

Severus held himself in a relaxed pose...for those who could read him. "Come down to our rooms," he requested evenly.

A giggle erupted, and Severus glared at the perpetrators.

A stout, balding man, clad in black with red accents and the emblem of the carpenters' guild on his chest, and a young, gangling youth in simple, working robes, pimples decorating his forehead, stood at their door. Several tall packages were propped against the wall. Severus led the men in and addressed his wife with a serious voice. "You ordered this lot, I recall. Now you need to pay."

Never had Ginny paid a greater sum! From her husband's vault, no less! Hesitantly, she accepted the embossed, parchment sheets that formed the receipts for bed, bedside table, and desk. She stared at the crest of the company, but she could not concentrate on what was written there.

She observed the carpenters levitating their old, worn parts out of their tight space. The young one earned himself a reprimand when he allowed one to bang on the walls. "Generations back, our elders took great care in producing these fine pieces. You do well honouring them."

The cabinetmaker levitated the longest parcel and unwrapped solid, wooden boards and four plain, gradually narrowing columns with swirly wand movements, banishing the cardboard, padding and yarn right away. Whipping his wand, he conducted the parts in mid-air and assembled them to a four-poster. He steered it to its place according to her directives. It was gently lowered to the ground where its foot-long feet shortened or elongated just a little bit until the frame stood perfectly even.

The widest packet contained the rectangular tester in one piece. It was levitated on top with ease.

As the cabinetmaker took a critical look at every joint, a squashy parcel jumped into the bed and burst like an egg with an impatient chicken inside. Their new mattress unfurled. It stretched and bent like a cat, reaching for all corners to gauge the available space until it smoothed and lay still and inviting.

Ginny's new working desk was put together in an equally thorough way and placed where Severus had cleared the room. It, too, beckoned for a touch and for being used. The drawers glided softly, and their scent of cedar wood, the best material against pests on six or more legs, filled the air together with wax and finish. But a desk remained a desk, and Ginny already dreaded the many hours she would sit behind it, brooding over assigned texts. She turned back to the bedroom.

Cautiously and slowly, the apprentice assembled the small, simply built bedside table under his master's watchful eyes. The pieces touched the mattress, and his master's grunt sent shivers through the boy's body.

Ginny took in the new appearance of their bedroom. She inhaled the wonderful smell of new wood deeply and let her hand glide along the smooth, freshly waxed surface of the bedside table. Severus placed his book on Dark Detectors and Quidditch through the Ages...courtesy of Draco...side by side, and the room felt a lot less arbitrary.

"Vastly improved," Ginny acknowledged with honesty. "We can easily get us some matching bric-a-brac to brighten up the room." If Severus was surprised, he didn't show it.

An impatient tapping interrupted her. Expectantly, the carpenter pointed at the stapled receipts on the shelf. Nervously, Ginny read the whole parchment twice, including all the small print. "Three months warranty on the spells. Is this normal, Severus?"

"This is a standard delivery receipt," the younger man commented. He was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eyeing the Potions Master anxiously. Receiving a frown, he jumped so severely, Ginny felt pity for him.

She quickly closed the distance to Severus and made him scan the parchment. He nodded. Relieved, she flattened the document carefully, signed it and prodded the sum with her wand, clearing her throat before speaking the incantation. A strong sensation seared from her shoulder into her arm and index, as if something lumpy and unwilling had been pulled out of her arm. With a gasp, she looked up. Her fearful face relaxed when Severus tried hard to keep his features neutral.

They quickly accompanied both men outside. Severus Obliviated the information of the school before sending them off with a Portkey.

Back inside, Severus kept himself a few yards behind Ginny as she joined her age-group for studies.

"Well I say, that was a quick one," Mandy commented with a sneer when Ginny entered.

"Imagine yourself in his place: would you stall?" her neighbour sniggered. Noticing their teacher at the entrance, Mandy dropped her quill. The two most rapidly refocused on their parchments.

"I received a decent desk, wandcrafted, beech and cedar, and I had to supervise the craftsmen and pay for it. It's been well over ten years since I had trouble producing a smooth signature," Ginny commented dryly and proceeded towards Heather and Florence.

They began to prepare for Herbology the next morning. Out of the corner of her eye, she observed Severus approaching Mandy but quickly concentrated on how to harvest the syrup of Virulent Veronica. "I read we tap only on the west, but why was that?"

Clearly nervous about what might just have happened in the teachers' quarters, Heather shyly replied, "It is best explained here in the 1875 Almanac of the Crazy Cropper. Remember that the bucket must be emptied around sunrise. See what happens to the harvester approaching from the east, covering the sun?"

"Yack, virulent indeed!" The plant of maybe four feet height was spraying the poor witch with its syrup, which contracted unyieldingly. Her face gradually turned shades of red and purple as she struggled and wriggled in the hopeless attempt to shrug off the sticky mass. Her eyes protruded from their sockets, her movement stilled, and she became all limp and lifeless. With a crack, the suddenly brittle mass popped off and sank into the soil. The painter must have immensely enjoyed the thought of pain and agony.

"Couldn't we then harvest in the late afternoon from the east as well? Or approach it from the north at noon?"

"Ginny, think of the plant!" Heather shook her head at so much ignorance. "It needs the sunlight to close the wounds and regenerate. This is also why we must set the Virulent Veronica isolated, on a hill or into a high crate. It was the Voracious Verbena from last week that regenerates over night."

"Oh, no! I will have to add an inch to my essay for tomorrow. Thanks a lot, Heather."

Ginny checked the topics of the following week and found Vile Vanilla and Vesicatory Vine...wasn't it just great? How could Heather tell all these plants apart?

Done for the day, Ginny passed by the girls' toilet outside the Great Hall, from where she heard a familiar voice wailing, "He said there was no need for protective gloves. He is so creepy!"

With a smirk she continued on her way to their quarters. "Severus, did you have... err... a little chat with dear Mandy Sands?" she wondered.

"Yes, and I'm afraid I will have to endure her for an hour more, but I scheduled it for tomorrow night. We've still work to do in here."

"Let me just append the Herbology essay for tomorrow."

"Who am I to oppose academic enthusiasm?" Severus retorted but was interrupted by a knock at the door. He stroked her cheek lightly before he had to endure a set of questions from a sixth-year. The insolent brat was clearly more interested in the quarters of his teacher than the answers he received.

Ginny stroked over the smooth fabric of their new bedcloth. They had opted for a budget, cotton cover, but it was new, thick, and appealing to the touch. Except for his dislike of burgundy-red, Severus had not been very enthusiastic about the details, and Ginny had selected crème with accents in a warm gold-orange tone. With a swish and flick, she floated the duvet and had it slide neatly into its new cover. After enveloping the pillows in their pillowcases, she attached the short valances to the bed's testers. Even without thick curtains all around, it looked perfect.

:*:*:*:

Ginny's voice was muffled through their protection charm as she noted, "Funny, this bed. Can you feel it?"

Severus threw away the duvet, shouting, "Get out! Quick!" He was about to jump up, but Ginny held his arm, laughing.

"Keep your hair on, Severus! No curse. Yet, a tingling is running through me from toe to scalp, and it is rather nice. Very nice, to be honest." At his doubtful noise, Ginny explained, "We bought a wider bed to have more space, but you are as close as you were before."

Severus pushed himself to his side, but an arm sneaked around his stiffened waist, effectively preventing it.

"Why is that so?" Ginny rested her upper head gently on his arm, adding firmly, "and why do I like it?"

Severus relaxed just a bit, but his words came out pressed. "I don't want you to ever say endearments that you do not mean, Ginevra."

"All right then. I enjoy it!"

Ginny sensed the smile crossing his face when he answered, "Well, if you truly like the sensation, be my guest."

:*:*:*:

Flying lessons didn't change their character at all. Stunt hadn't softened up a bit and certainly not towards Ginny. This afternoon, he commanded three frightened twelve-year-olds to levitate her between them during a flight over open land. They had to be Obfuscated, which was a first. Stunt followed them, keeping Ginny under a tickling curse to cause her twitching.

This was not only humiliating and painful, it was downright dangerous, even if they flew only a few yards high.

On a deft, curse-induced kick, Ginny's foot connected with Hugh Martin's broom, and the little boy gripped it with both hands, dropping his wand with a shriek. His fellows became distracted, and Ginny plummeted. Crashing through bushes, she rolled further and splashed into the stream underneath. The three second-years landed in shock, unable to help her out of the water.

With the searing pain from a gashing flesh wound on her thigh and an oddly hanging arm, Ginny re-emerged. It was enough! A furious, "Accio Firebolt!" left their teacher broomless.

:*:*:*:

Meanwhile, inside, Severus stood in front of the sixth-years' Potions class. It was the most tiresome and taxing he had endured in decades. As a young Hogwarts teacher, he had right from the start declared 'Outstanding' O.W.L.s to be the entry criterion...and a wise decision it had been! Every year, the lethargic majority had surrendered in defeat.

A few, ambitious fifth-years at Hogwarts had asked for remedial lessons to achieve this high score, and they had worked hard in the small N.E.W.T.s classes. Then, thinly sprinkled between those so obviously only enduring the subject, there had been one or two genuinely curious candidates that were capable and ready to devote their time to the subject. Such perks had made his life as a Hogwarts teacher just bearable.

This year, though, conditions were utterly different. The sixth-year students had entered the Academy based on the average of their O.W.L.s grade, and every single one of them had to study Potions. In sight of their alternative, Severus had accepted as many as possible...even if they barely knew to wash their hands before entering his classroom and smashed and smeared expensive and potent ingredients around as carelessly as the mustard at lunch.

This class held four Durmstrang transfers. None of them could understand English well enough to differentiate between simmering and boiling, between grinding and smashing, or slicing and cutting. Severus had accommodated for them the best he could.

Mrs Sands and others who had mocked the newcomers had spent hours labelling the ingredients in Greek, German and Russian in addition to the Latin and English names. Barnes had helped set up charmed, multilingual reference lists, enthusing in the similarities of wizards prodding with a wand and Muggles with a mouse...whatever that could mean. Draco...brought up bilingually himself...showed sympathy and always worked close to these students.

And yet, with the technical terms and the name of ingredients regularly traded over the workbenches in four or five languages, the noise level grated on Severus' nerves.

Inwardly furious, Severus kept reminding himself that he could not fail in his task to protect the brats and to carefully guide their minds into some sense of responsibility...and if it was by Vanishing hundreds of Galleons of mutilated rare species a week, a value that his ridiculous compensation could not afford him in a lifetime, then so be it. Every headache he suffered, every twitch he felt to ban the clumsy fingers and recalcitrant minds forever from his classroom, was preferred to delivering them early to the war-machinery their master had built up.

And so he endured the four dunderheads clustered in the back row together, fathoming cluelessly about the directives he had given, guessing more than understanding what they were supposed to do.

"Exactly why, Mr Smith, do you gather pestle and morsel when the directive is slicing your porcupine quill?"

The arrogant boy had no answer to this, and Severus thanked the fates that for once, he didn't try, but silently transferred the pieces to a chopping board and, after checking the instructions, took up the flint-blade knife.

Theodore Nott, while rarely holding his fingers steady enough for the task at hand, at least tried to memorise the steps. The boy truly dreaded the prospect of fighting and gradually caught up with what he had lost last year at Hogwarts. He was still a loner, trying to keep a low profile, but he showed the same respect towards his teacher that his pure-blood father had usually shown Severus...long before he had been propelled to the top of the hierarchy of the Death Eaters. Severus felt compelled to honour such a rare attitude.

When the porridge-like substance in the cauldron behind him boiled up violently, Draco reacted promptly, casting an Aguamenti, which bathed burner, cauldron and brewer in lukewarm water. The goo collapsed into a sticky, creamy mass that would take hours to clean.

"Mr Smith, I pointed your attention to one fault to avoid clouding the air, but this can hardly be an excuse for not soaking the cockroach-legs as indicated very clearly in your texts. What a waste of time that you'll have to clean this cauldron, but maybe it will be educational. Ten points to Green, Mr Malfoy, and thank you for saving the first row from agonising pain and the rest of us from the sight of their mutilated faces. It should have been fifty, but Mr Smith swallowed forty with his hazardous attitude."

Don't be overdramatic, Draco indicated silently.

"Yeuch, the legs are still moving," Parkinson exclaimed and jerked her arms up, sprinkling her brew and the next one with drops of the concentrated marinade for her cockroach-legs. The hiss that emerged ended two more brewing sessions.

"Parkinson, dismissed," Severus barked. "You will join Mr Smith in tonight's attempt to render our utensils usable. Eight o'clock sharp. Now get out of my sight!"

She packed her bag with a stony face and brushed against the German girl next to her, who was close to tears. Her brew had been successful before the accident had rendered it unrecognisable.

Severus knew exactly how to take advantage of the occasion.

"Miss Schröpfler," Severus addressed her, trying his best to get the name out. He gestured towards Draco. "Take over from Mr Malfoy here, why don't you? Malfoy, you will start a new brew tonight; meet me right after dinner."

Draco nodded silently and cleared his place, leaving only his finely diced rhubarb-stalk for her to use since hers were strewn all over the floor. Then he lingered around the foreigners' benches, gesturing artfully as he demonstrated the stirring techniques to them.

When the ridiculous signal ended the lesson, Severus had four less potions to assess than students in the class. He had long learned to be thankful for small favours.

:*:*:*:

The entrance was more smudged than normal when Severus passed by. A walking pattern with a left foot turned sideways and drips of blood every other step accompanied him all the way to their rooms. Severus' heartbeat raced, his steps quickened, and the air sizzled when his wand sliced it with jagged movements to tear down the wards from afar.

"Ginevra, are you in here? Are you all right?"

She was not, and she could not hide it, even though she apparently tried. Without another word, Severus investigated her injuries, spelled the flesh wound temporarily closed and levitated her to the little medic room, holding her hand.

The nurse on duty unceremoniously yanked Ginny's displaced arm back in place, causing her to shriek. Severus alternated between speaking comfortingly to her and berating the nurse for her lack of consideration. The thigh was cleaned with rough movements, and as the wound re-closed, she was expected to leave. "Can't she lie down for a moment?!" Severus shouted.

"Certainly not. If she cannot help bringing herself into such a state all of the time, she'd better learn to cope with the consequences."

Severus glared at the recalcitrant young nurse and supported his witch under her armpits. He would have lifted her up if she had not protested so vehemently. Slowly he helped her back and forced her onto the first available chair, Transfigured into a chaise longue.

Ginny obliged, glad to be off her feet. Severus turned away from her and prepared a pot of tea, clattering loudly with the dishes.

"Drink," he ordered. "Now explain. What did she mean by all of the time, Ginevra?"

His rage grew with every detail she provided; he alternately paced and stood still; he clenched his fists or fingered his wand. He swore under his breath, and Ginny didn't know him.

After an unstructured monologue of half an hour, Severus called the Bloody Baron and told him...in a tone that lost the ectoplasm of the aloof ghost two shades of brightness...that he was to stay with Ginny until Severus' return. Then he stormed out to set the headmistress straight, as he put it.

Sipping her tea with shaky hands, careful to keep her shoulder straight, Ginny recalled the outburst to figure out what Severus had meant.

His being mad with the flying instructors was easy to grasp. "Irresponsible!" he had growled, his fingers trembling.

"All the times, I had lessons to give and Draco had always some to attend." Was Severus merely blaming the circumstances in their small institution? Or did he suspect a well calculated scheduling, a scheming? Now that she thought about it, it was odd that the Flying lessons had never, ever matched with Severus' free afternoon times...always with his supervising the first-years or lessons to the oldest years.

However, from some of his outbursts..."never understood the hints", "paraphernalia", "the worthy ones", "setting an example"...she got the impression he was furious with himself.

Who had possibly been given carte blanche was totally lost on her.

:*:*:*:

The battle of words was unmatched by earlier disputes between the teachers. "I will not allow my wife to become the victim of treachery."

"Treachery?" repeated Mulciber. "You suspect me of treachery, when you've spent a decade in the realm of Dumbledore, sucking up to him and doing his bidding but failing in furthering our Lord's case?"

"I do not see the relation to how you treated Ginevra...who is a pupil in your school and my wife."

"So you admit your laziness. Thank you, Severus Snape, for your honesty."

"I have done no such thing, and I will never discuss with you what is a matter between me and our master!"

"Well, let's see then how our master will handle it. He is going to visit the Academy tonight to discuss promoting the most worthy of our sheep, and we can easily spend a minute on the black sheep among them."

She addressed the staff, gesturing with her arm towards the door. "Our Lord will arrive at half past eight."

The hours until the staff meeting were busy ones. Severus rescheduled the detentions in the classroom, and he arranged for Draco to brew in the private lab behind it. Instead of the brew from the lesson, they swiftly set up the first stages of Wolfsbane and several medical brews. They had been hoping for such a chance for weeks!

Severus alternated between the two places. He sliced, ground and stirred together with Draco to get him through the most critical stages of the complex brews. As Parkinson and Smith worked their way through the cauldrons, he graded yet another stack of illegible and superficially researched essays. He could only shortly check on Ginevra. Her wounds were healing well, and she had taken up revising Transfiguration; she would be fine for the evening with the Bloody Baron visiting regularly.

On a detour to the Great Hall, Severus hastily gulped down a few bites and changed for the meeting.

When their master had forcefully repeated the special plans he had in mind for Ginevra Snape, the headmistress lost a lot of her earlier arrogance.

All of a sudden, she found nice words for the poor young woman. "You informed me personally that she was not to partake in any...what did you call it...frivolities, Severus. I merely advised my staff according to your guidance. As you noted yourself, she has had rough lessons before this one. Are you telling me that you have not noticed anything for weeks?"

Cold sweat drenched Severus' back as she continued accusing him of not knowing how his wife passed her time.

The Dark Lord sat there in silence, which was not reassuring at all.

Stunt wormed himself out of the concrete accusation, spreading the blame over his colleagues and the headmistress. He was to report the following day how he intended to render his training methods safer. "Yes, my Lord," he managed to answer, feeling beads of sweat form on his forehead.

Ginny was sorted into a Colour; the Silver one, on Severus' request. A bed was to be added to one dormitory for such nights when Severus was not at school. Professor Flank hastily agreed with this arrangement, although she could not be pleased.

The Dark Lord finished the subject and asked about the academic progress, reiterating the purpose of the Academy as a haven for the knowledge-hungry and inspired youth. He inspected the lists of pupils to advance into the next year. His eyes rested longer on some names and jumped over others. Rolling the parchment from L to P, he commented, "Considering their fathers and mothers, I am surprised at some suggestions. However, I will not doubt your evaluations, expecting you have based them on performance alone. We need to bring out the best in every single pupil."

Severus had prepared the summary list of the Green Colour himself and suspected that there were indeed a few unjust evaluations. However, the decisions would be revised in the autumn. Then a stab ran through him: did he really believe Salazar's Academy would go into a second school year?

Their master finished the scroll and looked up. "Where is the evaluation for Ginevra Snape? In which classes is she to advance?" Obscuranta Mulciber was taken by surprise and missed setting up her false smile from before. "I... we..."

"I assume she has not even been assessed," Severus noted with a huff.

"She certainly got a plus in Duelling, that girl. I marked her accordingly," Simon Slash exclaimed hurriedly.

Their master glared at the headmistress. Quickly the other teachers gave their statements, one by one, no minus among them although Professor Flank debated with herself a long time before granting the zero.

"Very well," the Dark Lord concluded. "You will figure out a timetable so that our capable students can advance in one, two or even three courses. We cannot risk the eager minds being bored and losing interest. How do you plan the exams?"

The headmistress replied eagerly, "Pupils take O.W.L.s according to their regular year but end of term exams for all courses they have participated in."

The Dark Lord nodded and closed the conference. "Severus, a word," he added tersely, and they left together.

Severus suggested the Defence classroom and put up his Muffliato. "I assume they will not penetrate our spell," he said casually.

His master's right eye opened, and above it, his usually smooth forehead contracted with a hint of folds. "They? Who does?" he enquired with false, fatherly sympathy. Now Severus recognised the face for what it was: the Dark Lord would have raised his eyebrow, had he been in the possession of one. Disgust washed over Severus, and he surreptitiously Occluded his mind.

"It is no matter, my lord," Severus replied. "You wanted to speak with me?"

The discussion was unnerving, and Severus was most concerned when they parted. He was glad he had been alone with his master for this topic.

:*:*:*:

Down in their rooms, Ginny tried to read Severus' stance already as he built up their wards. He said no word. When he sat down opposite her with merely a sigh and picked up his book, she exploded.

"Care to enlighten me about whatever was going on all evening?"

"Our master has been visiting."

"Tell me about things I do not know already! He was, after all, eating with us in the Great Hall, while you were not. Nor was Draco, and a few took notice of that. Then you had a three-hour staff meeting. From the looks I got when your dear colleagues left, I was a topic."

"You are now in the Silver Colour, and you are granted two advances in either Duelling, Defence, Charms or Potions."

Ginny's mood brightened up. "I truly may advance?"

She felt her smile freeze on her face at Severus' indifferent stare. Not even a nod of recognition? If she hadn't been aching all over, she'd be pacing the room in agitation. As it was, her undamaged leg drummed on the floor.

"Well, I'm certainly not asking for much, but you know, Severus Snape, a small, verbal acknowledgement from your side would not be misplaced!"

"Leave it for later, Ginevra."

"Right then, ignore my achievements." When Severus still just stared at the far wall, she went right for the jugular, huffing, "Who cares, really, as long as I'm fertile as a rabbit?"

Severus twitched, but then snarled with a dangerous undertone, "I'm not willing to discuss that, Ginevra." He looked around meaningfully, adding, "Or in fact anything else. Although I will say that I am very relieved and... impressed how well you're doing."

He was right in parts, but Ginny was too angry to relent completely. "Six hours ago, you burst out of here with clear intentions. You hardly chatted with the Headmistress about nothing. Then a meeting with our master. What else was there, and how do I behave tomorrow? I will face these teachers, Severus, I cannot be the one not knowing."

Clearly unwilling, Severus reported in staccato-style, "The Dark Lord reminded all staff that the pupils ensure our future. He has no use of dead students or untrained ones. We teachers are entrusted with the task of teaching all of you and not for following our own agenda." Here he paused. "I don't see imminent trouble for you."

When nothing more was forthcoming, she stood and glared at him. "That summary of a three-hour meeting is what dad would call being economical with the truth! But I clearly see that I won't hear any time soon what exactly is going on."

Silently she made her way to bed, which tonight felt three yards wide for all the warmth it provided.

Severus was already dressed when she woke up the next morning and shortly informed her that she was to move to her new dormitory for the following night because he would be in their master's service.

With a nod Ginny slipped her toothbrush and pyjamas into her shapeless, grease-stained bag and left, her head as high as every day. No one would notice any difference!

:*:*:*:

For several days, three groups of Death Eater novices had been investigating a division of the Royal Army.

Tonight they were to observe tank movements. Thanks to the average Pure-blood's ignorance and instinctive fear of Muggle weapons, Severus had a hard time keeping his group of poor-witted minions concentrated. His two colleagues did not fare any better. One overweight bully literally wet himself at the sight of three tanks approaching him – as if they could follow him even through Apparition. If it weren't so beneficial to Severus' personal goals, he would have berated the cowards to no end.

Hours later, with truly lousy reports in their hands, they went to check in with their master. The Dark Lord's viper-like face showed no emotion as he ordered the three officers in charge to pour out their anger over the body of men.

"Thick as pigshit, the whole lot of you," Severus' neighbour roared, and the room flickered from blue, sizzling spells before a stench of sulphur and burnt skin wafted towards Severus.

Severus fought his nausea down. With the reputation he had built up, he was expected to chose punishment of an appropriate level and deliver it with cool blood, grace, and exact wand movements. Refraining from hurling Unforgivables, he judged the horrified, disordered witches and wizards from the events of the evening as well as their general attitude. Some of his men were known to be unthinkingly brutal against captives, their less talented mates, or their family and charges, and Severus selected such curses for them that would deprive them of just the advantage they liked to explore. He left anyone's attitude towards elves or Muggles out of the question to not raise suspicion with his master, but he generously assigned menial tasks to the biggest bullies while withdrawing their rations of stamina potions. They should build up muscles the Muggle way!

Severus also shortened the disgusting lust potions for those boasting most with it. To himself, Severus acknowledged the very egoistic motivation for this step: less potions to brew.

Lacking this leverage for the witches in his group, Severus made sure that they were left without an elf for a month and redirected the servants to the pregnant women or to families with small children.

Delivering pain to the few he suspected unwilling more than unable felt worse than the prospect of his own pain to come. Severus made sure not to inflict permanent damage and delivered flesh wounds, bleeding more horribly than dangerously, to some who knew the spells to close them.

The gathering ended predictably: their master left the moaning, bleeding half-dead creatures in the hands of those still able to keep upright and retreated to a separate room. There, he dealt with the three group leaders.

Stoically, Severus endured his own humiliation and the pain searing through muscles and bones. He would have access to an equipped lab that promised relief within two days. In the end, Severus dragged his body forward to his master, thanked him and kissed the dusty hem of his robe, nearly choking on it. Waved to move aside, he chose a high window with a wide sill, where he could support his shaking body with one arm at a time.

Their master punished one of Severus' peers with pain and humiliation for not being hard enough on his charges. "Maybe you should join the lower ranks to remind you what can discipline the unthinking hordes? For this time, let me show you new ideas. Nemniscus Tremulus!"

The other officer had to suffer burning spells, itching and boils on inner tissues because he had risked the lives of his men with his overly harsh administrations.

Both of them lay in a puddle of urine, puke and blood, unmoving, when their master was finished. With disgust, the Dark Lord remarked to them both, "You're exempt from honouring your master until such time that you can do so with a minimum if dignity. Get out of my sight, you unworthy creatures."

With a dragging gait, Severus walked along the corridor of the Academy, which this night appeared longer than ever. Was it honourable to have found the right measure of punishments according to their Lord's scale? He stopped to catch his breath. Another five yards, first to the bathroom, then quickly over to their quarters. He applied the mouth protection while he still had his wits and looked forward to his bed, pre-warmed and cosy.

It was not! Ginevra had spent her night in the dormitory rather than down here all alone. His bed felt huge, cold and empty, void of all comfort. How he missed his little witch! Her hair tickling his cheek. Her sweet bum pushing into his side and cheekily reminding him not to take more space than his share. Her arm reaching over, sometimes unconsciously, but at times also quite purposefully. Mostly, however, it was his left arm holding her tight. Not last night, though, and not tonight either.

In his misery, Severus recuperated only marginally in the three hours until dawn.

Half an hour before his alarm would wake him, he felt a cold shiver and then soft, cool skin pressing into his side. She was back, and she was unharmed!

Severus relaxed and closed his eyes for just another moment.

The alarm roused him an hour later than he had set it, less than thirty minutes before class began. He swore as he grabbed his clothes. How dare she reset the alarm?

A smell of coffee and bacon wafted to his nostrils, and his stomach welcomed it with a rumble, clearly not caring about his anger. He also found oatmeal under a warming charm, pumpkin juice, a slice of dark bread and a crumpet with honey waiting for him.

Revitalised, Severus stormed into his classroom just in time to dock twenty points from Silver before he announced the brew of the day.

The commotion at the far end didn't resolve, though, and Severus glared at the assembled. "Haven't you mastered simple arithmetic yet? Five students can't arrange themselves in pairs around two cauldrons, no matter how hard you try."

Severus gestured with his arm towards Ginny. "And for your information, Urquhart, the only other Silver student without a partner resides on the window desk."

He paid his wife no attention, other than ensuring that Urquhart's and her brew would not spray into her face. As the boy delivered their phial for grading, Severus demanded, "Meet me before lunch, Mr Urquhart."

When he looked up, Ginny had already left the room.

A/N:

Can't thank my betas, Coshie and Jingjingchiquita, enough for the great help and support they offered. They gave me great ideas, asked just the right questions, and imposed a strict discipline on my commas and prepositions. Hugs, cauldron cake and mulled wine for both!

However, real life is very demanding on them these days, and I am struggling to find a replacement and also a new Britpicker.

Some more notes:

1. Tester: the four vertical columns of a four poster bed support the so-called tester or upper panel.

2. Draco is fluent in French. Draco has been pronouncing wine-related terms in French earlier in this story, but I didn't work this fact in as well as I should have before I needed it here. Why French? French is the old lingua franca in Europe. The name Malfoy is French, and the family keeps this language up to distinguish themselves from lesser people. They have orchards there and other estates that Narcissa visited in the prequel.

3. With "Nemniscus Tremulus!" the Dark Lord applies a curse that makes the nerves rattle and shake.