Part VII

Disclaimer: This is a non-profit tribute to the works of JK Rowling, who created and, together with her publishers and licensees, owns the characters and settings elaborated herein.

All my gratitude to my betas and previewers DementedLeaf, Xoxphoenix and Morgaine_Dulac.

Many thanks to all my kind readers and reviewers.

Part VII

Embarrassed, curious or awed, each student bowed respectfully to Snape, while Zabini declared names and Houses.

"Frederick Abbott, Hufflepuff… Jennifer Avery, Slytherin… Margaret Finch-Fletchley, Ravenclaw…

Snape felt an unexpected emotion; there were so many very well known names amongst the children, and memories started unlocking in his mind. Nineteen years had passed, yet it seemed that past had suddenly revived. Mechanically, the wizard took a quick glance at the painted register on his desk, without seeing it. In the meantime, directed by Minerva, one by one the students reached their place near the cauldrons, lifting their faces expectantly while the presentation continued.

"Arthur Macmillan, Gryffindor… Jasmine Montgomery, Hufflepuff… James Potter, Gryffindor…"

That name! That hateful name still had the power to hurt him like a stab! Frowning, Snape looked at James Potter, and James Potter looked back at him with a mixture of shyness and cheek. Snape deepened his frown, but the boy didn't lower his gaze: instead, his brows and lips seemed to curl down into a scowl. Feeling anger bubble in his chest for such unacceptable behaviour, Snape kept his eyes fixed on the boy until he succeeded in making James turn his head in uneasiness.

"I see," the dark wizard murmured menacingly, with a last threatening glance. Then, back to himself again after that silent exchange of gazes, the painted professor turned to his living colleague.

"Thank you, Professor Zabini. I presume that the students have been informed about the very special characteristics of this course, including… me?"

Zabini nodded rigidly, and Snape seemed to forget the world around him: with a smooth movement, he raised himself and walked in front of his desk to address the children. What had his introductory speech sounded like, so many years ago? He smiled darkly, and sentences began to flow.

"I won't waste words in describing what you should know very well by now. Potions is an outstandingly difficult subject, and only those of you who are particularly gifted may aspire to stay in this class. So, I trust you are not going to disappoint Professor Zabini, who offered you this opportunity, but, even more important, I hope you are not going to disappoint me. You will see that it's not easy to achieve the standards I've set… However, I reward generously those who are willing to try and that meet with my approval. And now, let's begin!"

The children, who had exchanged worried glances during the speech, took an even more horrified expression when Snape announced, "We will test your preparation with the Draught of Relaxation. This potion is included in the first year's program, so everyone here should be able to favourably impress me."

A menacing pause followed. "But beware: only those passing the test will be allowed to remain in this class."

As he expected, the looks of horror gradually transformed, some changing into eagerness, some into panic, some into the instinctive relaxation of those who hoped to fail and consequently be spared the new upcoming battles. In an impressive silence, boys and girls opened their books, checked the requested items and then went to the cupboards to collect tools and ingredients, intersecting their paths in a disordered dance.

Snape immediately noticed that, as always, girls were the most determined. Then he caught a look of uncertainty upon James Potter's face, and his heart had a joyful twist. The test was the last trick he had planned to avoid teaching that insufferable boy without openly disobeying Minerva and, above all, without disappointing Albus Severus. He had carefully kept his plan secret, knowing that, the moment he had announced his decision, Minerva wouldn't contradict a professor in front of his students.

And in fact, though irritated for his ruse, the Headmistress crossed her arms and sighed in exasperation, looking up at Snape with an indignant frown. But he refused to lower his eyes. If this was his class, he had to be the one in command there, and he had to be free to decide.

Blaise Zabini was watching the ordered confusion as well, but there was a mix of expectation and controlled anger on his features. His eyes, lost in contemplation, were revealing his feelings: he was hoping for a failure… and Snape smiled sardonically. Being a portrait had its advantages: there was only one supreme authority he would bow to, even if reluctantly, and that was Minerva. All the other possible opponents should be prepared to fight, included his so unenthusiastic former student.

Ah! Finally James Potter was reacting! Taking a ladle with an exaggerated gesture, the boy winked at young Arthur Macmillan, who was working next to him, and who smiled back in complicity. Looking at little Arthur, Snape wondered if the child could be Ernie Macmillan's son. Probable, but the lad wasn't similar to his extremely ceremonious parent; Arthur had a mischievous smile that matched James', while his eyes were brightened in excitement. And, underlining even more the difference with his father, who had been a respectful Hufflepuff, the child had been sorted into Gryffindor, one of the annoying surprises that the Sorting Hat sometimes dispensed. So, it seemed that also "this" James Potter had got a toady, and probably a troublesome one: a situation that Snape immediately found detestable.

Well, let's see how this new dangerous pair was going to perform the test…

Pride for his House made Snape finally watch the Slytherins. Feeling his gaze on their back, the children raised their eyes and smiled shyly, hoping in his partiality. The Avery girl was particularly committed in her work. She had already opened the cupboards at least ten times, choosing her ingredients with great care and dividing them in little piles. She was obviously trying to impress him… but she deserved his appreciation, so Snape raised his brows in silent encouragement.

Slowly, the class took form before his eyes. The students appeared to be trained, but their preparation lacked consistency. It seemed that each one had developed individual and original approaches of work, instead of following a method. The result was a creative mess of techniques that the dark wizard contemplated with disdainfully pressed lips. Trying to catch the many different inconsistencies, Snape's attention shifted relentlessly from child to child… but returned constantly to James. The boy seemed to enjoy the curiosity of his new teacher. After that very first moment of well simulated panic -- which had been clearly a fake -- James was now working deftly, chopping his ingredients, adding them to the mixture, bending to check the fire under the cauldron, and finally wiping his forehead with a smile of sincere joy to his friend.

Snape's heart tightened. That was exactly the way Lily used to smile to him, when they were competing in a class… a smile in which friendship, pleasure, mischief and affection were mixed in such a lovely combination! Snape closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The emotion had been too strong. Both the Potter boys had something in their features that reminded him too painfully of their grandmother… But this last tremulous impression was cancelled by the smirk that had unexpectedly substituted the smile. Intolerable in his smugness, that smirk filled Snape with a dark satisfaction, persuading him that, skilled or incompetent, James Potter was an insufferable, presumptuous brat, like his grandfather before him. But this time, Severus Snape was on a different side of the barricade…

Jennifer Avery gave a surprised little cry, when Snape appeared in the frame suspended over her cauldron. However, the girl instantly recovered her composure and smiled -- a true Slytherin smile -- waiting for his judgement.

"Very well done, Miss Avery," Snape answered to her mute question. She blushed in pride, and he left to enter the next frames. The children weren't expecting such closeness. One of the little Hufflepuffs dropped his herbal extracts in panic as soon as his teacher appeared next to him. Snape scolded him briefly, and the boy bent to clean the floor while tears flew from his eyes. Minerva watched Zabini. The man had clenched his fists and was looking at the scene with repressed anger. The Headmistress sighed.

Finally, the test was over. The children nervously held their breaths, while Snape made a last tour of the frames to check the final results. In an expectant silence, the wizard announced his verdict, being very careful in choosing his words.

"I'd say that you all have passed the test, a result that honours the many hours Professor Zabini dedicated to you. In particular, both Miss Avery and Mr. Potter have brewed a perfect mixture."

Snape stopped, savouring the satisfaction that was slowly diffusing upon Potter's features… then he hit mercilessly.

"However, five points go to Slytherin, as Miss Avery was the first one to complete the assignment."

James Potter had a sudden uncontrolled movement, and Snape was ready to notice it.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Potter? We are not on a Quidditch field now, so please watch your manners."

The boy crossed his arms with a dark frown, but kept silent. It was Zabini who immediately replied, venting his exasperation.

"It was my understanding that the test wasn't supposed to be awarded with points, Professor Snape."

"Well, then you misunderstood, Professor Zabini," Snape growled back. The two men looked at each other in challenge, and Minerva intervened, talking to the students.

"Very well, children, the class is over. I'm glad to see that the test has been a success. Now, please leave and reach your next lesson. I'll let you know the schedule of the new course as soon as possible."

The children went away, half relieved, half baffled, Jennifer Avery shining in joy, James Potter shrugging sullenly at the words that Arthur Macmillan was whispering. As soon as they had left, the Headmistress turned to both professors.

"I won't, I repeat, I won't tolerate such behaviour in front of the students anymore. Have I made myself clear?"

The two men exchanged a rapid glance and didn't reply, so Minerva insisted angrily, "Professor Zabini? Professor Snape?"

Slytherin in his strategy, Zabini was the first one to surrender. With an apologising smile, he bowed to the old witch and said, "I'm sorry, Headmistress, but I was speaking on behalf of my students."

"Thank you, Professor Zabini," Minerva replied. "I'm sure that Professor Snape understands and appreciates your concern as I do. However, I'm also sure that Professor Snape knows how to deal with his students, given his long practice."

Called into question in such way, Snape couldn't refuse to mutter an ironic, "Thank you for the acknowledgment, Minerva."

"Enough," she replied severely, cutting off any other comment. "The test has been passed. I think we can begin a regular course. Now, may I ask you to leave us, Professor Zabini? I would like to exchange some words with Professor Snape and define better the details."

A storm was ready to burst, and the man couldn't hide a meaningful smile; he bowed again to Minerva, and replied, "As you wish, Headmistress."

"Professor Snape," he then greeted, and Snape nodded coldly. Zabini walked out, shooting a last triumphant glance to the portrait. Then the door closed, and the old witch released her frustration, exclaiming angrily, "I expected better from you, Severus!"

Snape looked down at her with folded arms. "Why did you hire him, Minerva?"

"This is none of your business!" she answered, even angrier. "Instead, why did you reply to him in that way, and in front of the children, furthermore?"

"You don't know him as I do," Snape retorted.

"Of course!" she declared indignantly, "And are you sure that young James Potter didn't play a part in this childish reaction? Really, Severus, why did you have to humiliate him and to assign points to Miss Avery? This was supposed to be a test!"

"I have my reasons, Minerva!" he reacted with unexpected violence. Then, looking suddenly and oddly vulnerable, the wizard lowered his voice, "But I'll understand if you ask me to renounce teaching, now."

The Headmistress watched him with anguished eyes. Snape was staring sullenly at the wall, his fingers tormenting the pages of his new register.

"No, Severus," she finally sighed, shaking her head. "I still want you to teach. But please, control your temper."

She turned her back and went towards the door. But after just a few steps, she stopped in hesitation and turned again to him, only to discover that the portrait was now desolately empty. Minerva bit her lips in dismay, then rubbed the bridge of her nose under the spectacles with a discomforted gesture.

"And this should have been a day of joy…" she murmured bitterly.

A well-known voice called her.

"Minerva? Please don't be too harsh with the boy. He has suffered so much… He needs to learn to live again."

"Albus!" the old witch reacted, realising that Albus Dumbledore was staring at her from the wall. The old wizard was comfortably seated in a beautiful picture that showed Hogwarts' garden in all its splendour.

"Albus…" Minerva repeated, shaking her head in disbelief, yet smiling in evident affection. "As always, you've managed to meddle?"

"Ah, come on, Minerva! I just wanted to see how the boy was doing, and I knew I couldn't count on you for an invitation. However, you chose well the place. I had the hell of a time finding it! Next time, please, be so kind as to inform me, will you?"

Minerva didn't answer, her hands clasping and unclasping in anguish. Then she murmured blankly, "Did I do the wrong thing? Did I make a mistake, allowing Severus to teach again?"

"Minerva!" Albus gently reproached her. "Now don't be too harsh with yourself! You made him the best present you could ever imagine. But you need to learn how to handle him, now. It will take time. Please be patient."

"Thank you, Albus," the old witch murmured, looking suddenly exhausted. Quietly, as if lost in a dream, she began to walk towards the door.

"And, Minerva? Severus is a loyal friend. Do listen to him," Dumbledore added with a concerned expression.

Again, she nodded wearily, without stopping her walk. Then she went out, closing the door after her. Albus stood still for a while, looking at the empty room with meditative eyes. Then he sighed deeply and left the picture.