During breakfast on Sunday I received a note telling me to report to Snape’s office at five p.m. Part of me wished that I’d been assigned anywhere else. I’d scrub the whole Great Hall if I had to. However the rational part of my brain said this was better. I’d have to face Snape for the first time since I’d yelled at him and walked out, slamming the door behind me last year. Sometimes I really didn’t like the rational part of my brain. At ten to five I headed to the dungeons unable to stop the feeling of foreboding that had been building all day. I paused before knocking twice on the door.
I turned the handle and pushed opened the door. One deep breath before entering. Before I even looked at Snape, I turned to close the door. And so my misfortune begins, I thought while turning around.
“Awfully dramatic of you,” Snape commented in a bored voice. I looked at him, startled, and threw more strength into my mental barriers. “That’s not nearly as efficient as you think.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Sit.” Before a sarcastic remark had even fully formed, Snape spoke again. “Just sit,” he ordered. I didn’t like how he’d already taken control of the conversation. “Are you really in that bad of a mood that you’re going to fight about sitting?” he asked incredulously.
I slumped down on the chair he had set up at the corner of his desk. Next he took out a quill, ink, and parchment and set them in front of me. I stared at them suspiciously. “What’s this for?”
“Lines,” he said as though that should be obvious.
“Lines,” I repeated. This was not a typical Snape detention.
“Write,” he ordered.
“Write what?” There was a slight attitude in my tone.
“I don’t care. Anything that makes you look busy.”
“You expecting company?” Well that just sounded snarky.
“This seems less suspicious if Moody is watching.” I looked up at him, surprised. “Write,” he repeated.
Not exactly sure what I should be writing, I took a moment to plan it out. Eventually I settled on ‘I will not call Professor Snape a greasy, bitter, old bastard because this detention is a waste of time.’
“How very Gryffindor of you,” Snape said after I’d written it out for the first time.
“I was going to say it hurts your feelings.”
“Until you decided I didn’t have any feelings?”
“Until I figured I didn’t particularly care about your feelings.”
“Well that is a very Slytherin point of view.”
“Not everything’s a Gryffindor or Slytherin way of thinking,” I said annoyed. I shouldn’t have been picking a fight with him but for some reason I just couldn’t stop myself from feeling so irritated.
“I agree, there are also Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. You however, have never been much of a Hufflepuff and with the state of mind you’ve been in for the past week, I am rather certain your logical and rational Ravenclaw brain has had quite the vacation.” I looked up to glare at him. “Keep writing.” I scoffed and continued. “Ah, no fighting or attitude, perhaps it’s coming back.”
“You know I can leave,” I said, angered.
“You’ll come back.”
“You really think so?” I asked mockingly.
“Honestly? Yes, because if you don’t you know what will happen. And as much as you hate me, you don’t want to spend your life in St. Mungo’s. Also a very small sentimental part of you doesn’t want me sent to Azkaban.” I made a derisive noise. “I assure you, I am just as disturbed by that as you are.”
“Why are you doing this?” I sounded pathetic to my own ears, I waited for Snape to insult me about it. He didn’t though, he just looked thoughtful.
“I made a choice. It’s been over nine years, hardly seems like the time to throw it all away. I suppose it is possible I’m just selfish and don’t wish to spend the rest of my life in Azkaban.”
His sincerity caught me off guard. “You’re not selfish,” I muttered.
“Not the Gryffindor attitude again,” he said, acting disgusted.
“Rather rich coming from you. You might as well be a Gryffindor.”
“Now you’re the one insulting me.”
I rolled my eyes, there was still a heavy weight inside of me though. I opened my mouth to speak. “I…I’m sor–”
“Really don’t. Keep writing.” I frowned and dipped the quill into the ink. “I believe perhaps, it would be better to…move past previous…disagreements.”
“You sound like McGonagall.”
“Bloody Gryffindors,” he muttered, sounding insulted again. After a few minutes of silently copying lines, Snape spoke up again. “There are other things we should discuss.”
“Right.” Death Eaters, Karkaroff, and Moody all came to mind.
“I feel that we should discuss the most, er…personal issue first. To get it out of the way.”
This was the first time I’d ever heard Snape sound so…awkward. Confused and surprised I looked up. He wasn’t looking in my direction. “Er…ok?” I wasn’t sure where this was going.
“There have been a few…issues lately. Your emotions are slipping through. Rather…personal emotions.”
“I –” What exactly did Snape know?
“It would be prudent for you to take care of this issue immediately. For my sake at least.” Ok, now Snape sounded disturbed.
“I’m confused,” I said bluntly. Snape looked at me with a deep look of disgust.
“I don’t enjoy lusting after Fred Weasley,” he spit out.
I’m not sure if it’s possible to have all the color drain from your face and feel this red and embarrassed at the same time, but that was precisely how I felt now. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I muttered, feeling as awkward as Snape had sounded.
It was Snape’s turn to scoff. “I spent five minutes ogling him yesterday at breakfast before I realized what I was doing.”
“That sounds like a personal problem to me,” I blurted out without thinking.
“Fix it,” Snape said firmly. I can’t. “Yes you can. Bloody well just tell him.”
“It’s not that simple,” I responded. Merlin, was I really having this conversation with Snape? Hermione was one thing, but Snape? I should stop talking before I make a complete fool of myself.
“Because…” What was the real issue here? “It will all be a lie.” Snape stared disbelievingly at me. “It will!”
“I don’t suppose it ever occurred to you to tell him the truth.”
“I can’t…I just can’t.”
“He already knows you’re related to the Malfoys.”
“This is diff –wait, how do you know that?”
“Don’t look so surprised. I also know about you charming the Bulgarian Ministry and helping a rather useless Weasley safely back to his family, after several spells cast on said useless Weasley. Also about meeting your long lost cousin and your favorite Auror.” Snape sounded a bit smug about knowing my eventful World Cup.
“Dumbledore,” I guessed with narrowed eyes.
“Funny how helping a family so loyal to Dumbledore gets passed along through the grapevine, isn’t it?”
“Figures,” I muttered bitterly.
“Take care of your Weasley problem,” Snape told me again.
I cringed and voiced a very private concern. “I don’t want him to see me…see me as some Death Eater’s kid." As much as I hated it, I was used to it from adults, seeing it from Fred? I don’t think I could handle that.
“Bloody hell,” Snape said sighing. I felt a shock from a spell hitting my leg.
“What the hell?!”
“Stop acting like an idiot. Take care of it or I will.” I felt a bit skeptical about what Snape could do to handle it himself. “Do you really want to test me with this situation?” he threatened.
“Fine,” I said dejectedly.
“Before I start dreaming about him.” I couldn’t help but snort at the thought. “Well at least one of us finds this amusing,” he said darkly. “Keep writing.”
A bit of the comfortableness I’d always felt around Snape returned. I think maybe, in the long run it would be better to avoid any and all mentioning of Lupin’s name. I didn’t really want to get into a fight about who was right and who was wrong especially when odds were, I would never even see Lupin again. Things between Snape and I were going ok at the moment, I didn't want to risk ruining that.
I began writing my detention lines in different languages in an attempt to make it less boring. Snape had already pulled a stack of essays over and was grading them. “Show off,” he muttered while writing what looked like a two on the top of an essay. I frowned wondering why he could still see so easily through my barriers. “I can make out what you’re writing with my own eyes you know.”
“How’d you know what I was thinking then?”
“It’s the same thing you always think when you believe I am seeing from you.”
“Oh,” I said lamely.
“Are you mocking me?”
“I’m a teacher, it’s allowed.” I rolled my eyes. “Stop rolling your eyes.”
There were several more silent minutes of writing until I couldn’t help but blurt out what I’d felt since my first Defense class.
“I don’t like Moody.”
“Join the club.”
“There’s something…off about him.”
“He’s a paranoid old wizard.”
“Do you know what happened during my first class?” I asked after a pause.
“Yes. You were headed down here. When you changed direction I tired to…assume control, it was obviously a failed effort. I was rather impressed by your ability to control yourself. Though very disturbed with the memory it took.”
Oh, come on. Really? Was he seeing all of my embarrassing moments with Fred now?
“Oh!” Snape’s comment on trying to assume control had reminded me of something else. “The Imperius Curse.”
“What about it?”
“Moody cast it on us during class.”
“He cast an illegal curse on all of you?” Snape sounded suspicious.
“Well, sort of. Potter got it four times.”
“Of course he did,” Snape responded sarcastically.
“He tried it on me.”
“What happened?” he asked sounding worried now.
“Nothing. Moody was annoyed by it. Tried three more times. Nothing changed though.”
“Is it because you sort of…already have control?”
“Two Imperios won’t affect a person," he muttered thoughtfully. "It is a possibility that your mind already recognizes me as in control. I had not planned on that.”
“Convenient though,” I pointed out.
“Perhaps. For now it just seems suspicious to Moody I’m sure.”
“Surely he wouldn’t guess the real reason.”
“Unlikely. I believe Dumbledore has him too busy to investigate into it too far. I would be a bit hesitant if he mentioned it to Dumbledore though.”
“So Moody is here for Dumbledore’s benefit?” I had guessed this already, but knowing for sure was nice.
“Unfortunately.” Snape was probably as annoyed by Moody’s appointment as I was. “Dumbledore believes he is the right man to keep an eye on things.”
“Yeah,” I replied sarcastically. “How’s that working out for him? Potter’s already in the Tournament.”
“I quite agree. Did I mention how impressed I am that you haven’t already cursed Karkaroff?”
“It’s been very tempting,” I said glaring at Snape as he smirked. “McGonagall was very assertive in her warning.”
“Is that so?”
“I am willing to bet it was a reminder from Dumbledore.”
“Head feeling better?”
“Huh?” I was caught off guard by his quick change of the subject.
“Your head, less chaotic?”
“Yes, actually.” I did feel remarkably less burdened now and able to think more clearly.
“Good. You’ve been looking horrible for days,” he said candidly.
“I do find my days more tolerable when you are not so unbalanced.”
“Glad I could make your day sunnier,” I muttered sarcastically.
“My N.E.W.T. class would certainly approve. Five detentions and sixty house points taken off in one hour. A personal record.”
“What, you keep a score sheet?”
“We can’t all remember what we had for breakfast seven years ago.”
“Bacon and eggs with some toast. Orange marmalade. And some pumpkin juice.”
“Rather ordinary breakfast.”
“It was a rather ordinary day,” I said shrugging.
“I find it hard to believe that any day with you could be ordinary.”
“That’s very nice of you.”
“That was not my intent.”
“Doesn’t matter, I’m taking it as a compliment.”
“Can I write in troll?”
“Trolls don’t write.”
“Here I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that.”
“A valiant effort.”
I flipped the parchment over and continued writing. It was fifteen minutes before I spoke again. “Who do you think sent up the Dark Mark?”
“That, I do not have a guess for.”
“Nobody has any leads?”
“There are leads, they tend to raise more questions than answers. For one, Potter’s wand was used.”
“Seriously? How is that not in the Prophet?”
“I imagine no one wants to ruin the wonder boy’s character.”
“Any other leads?”
“Crouch’s elf was found holding the wand.”
“Barty Crouch?” That certainly was shocking.
“The very same.”
“That’s definitely suspicious…and really weird.” I clearly remembered who Barty Crouch was, especially his deceased son. “There have been weird things in the paper too. That Ministry witch who disappeared.”
“Yes, Dumbledore is also very concerned about things.”
“What happened to Crouch’s elf?”
“He fired her.”
“That’s a bit odd, doesn’t he depend on her?” Mr. Crouch wasn’t exactly young, I imagine a house elf would take care of quite a few things around the house for him. Snape’s eyes narrowed suspiciously for the slightest moment, before I could ask what was wrong he started speaking again.
“She and an old friend have found employment.” Something about Snape's tone made me raise an eyebrow.
“Are you hinting at something?”
“One of your old friends joined the Hogwarts employee list along with Moody.”
I frowned. “Old friend?”
“One of your oldest,” Snape stated vaguely. I tried to think of who he meant, it wasn’t like I had many friends. How had we’d gone from discussing house elves to this? Wait a minute.
“One in the same.”
“He’s here at Hogwarts?”
“He is. I would suggest using him to communicate, however Moody would become suspicious seeing the same house elf visit both of us. For now, when you need me send a message through and do something worthy of detention. We should keep the number low or someone will notice though.”
“You’re going to have to give better detentions than this. Writing lines isn’t really your style,” I pointed out.
“I assure you, I can find plenty of work for you to do. And make sure you control your temper around Karkaroff.”
I let out a low growl. “Anything else?” I asked sarcastically.
“Handle the Weasley situation. Soon.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I was still embarrassed about that.
“The parchment’s full.”
“Go disembowel something.”
“Oh look, there’s a bit of room left at the bottom.”
A/N: Yes, I realize Dobby didn’t start until later but it just fits in better here. Dobby is fairly important to Snape and Jade, that’s why Snape is staying up to date with Dobby’s employment.
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