Loose ends chapter 32 - Outmanoevred
Snape is refusing to bathe and Lupin gives him the job of teaching Draco Malfoy’s cousin. Slight angst. PG.
This is a work of fan fiction. The world and all recognisable characters belong to J.K. Rowling (apart from references to Dr Seuss) and I make no claim or profit etc
Outmanoeuvred
In the end, it took very little effort to convince Snape to move to the Institute. Sevvy had been exhausted, and it had taken only a few minutes of Fox in Socks for him to fall asleep against Lupin’s shoulder. When Snape had awoken, he’d been distraught that he’d caused so much trouble, and clearly wanted to accept the offer - couched as a firm recommendation by Andromeda - of accommodation at the Institute.
His one question was whether Mephistopheles, with his taste for fire flovs, would be welcome. He made it quite clear that he was going nowhere without his cat. He paced anxiously until they had sent Athene with a note to check, and retreated to Lupin’s room with Mephistopheles - slamming the door in Lupin’s face - to await the response.
Mandragora’s reply was, in Lupin’s opinion, remarkably polite. He simply reminded Snape that the Institute’s entire existence revolved around caring for magical creatures of every kind, and that he was quite certain that there would be a way to ensure the safety of both the fire flovs and Mephistopheles. He very charitably didn’t find it necessary to mention that he and the Insitute staff had managed to keep, among other things, more than sixty dragons, eight hippogriffs, three cockatrices, a breeding pair of manticores and a Mongolian death worm, not to mention the thirty werewolves which transformed there every month, from killing eachother and their keepers for many years, and were unlikely to be troubled by a cat.
Mephistopheles settled in to the Institute rather more quickly than Snape. He was given the run of the wolf garden when Snape was in the lab, and was soon convincing the werewolf children to bring him treats. After a few brief attempts to get to the fire flovs, he discovered that there were better pickings in the kitchens and staff dining hall.
Snape, on the other hand, refused to go anywhere except the potions lab and his room. Since his room was just down the corridor from the lab, he never left the basement, and most of the Institute staff doubted his existence. Concerned at his apparent reluctance to either eat or wash, Blossom appointed herself as Snape’s personal house elf, and stood in his room making sarcastic comments until he ate his meals and handed over his dirty clothes for the laundry. She filled the bath in his small bathroom, but learned Snape’s limits quickly enough and realised another strategy was required.
“Sir is needing to talk to Mr Professor.”
“What about, Blossom?” Lupin replied distractedly, as he continued to try and get Ethelred Malfoy to hold his wand correctly. While he’d inherited his name and appearance from his pureblooded father - Lucius Malfoy’s younger brother - he’d grown up mostly as a muggle like his mother and had never held a wand before Lupin began teaching him.
Blossom cleared her throat slightly.
“Mr Professor is starting to smell. Mr Professor is not taking a bath even if Blossom is getting it ready.”
“He doesn’t like baths much, Blossom, he usually just uses cleaning spells.”
“Well, Mr Professor is not using spells either. Mr Remus needs to be talking to him.”
Lupin sighed.
“It might be better if Andromeda talks to him. I don’t think he will listen to me.”
“Of course he will. Mr Professor always listens to Mr Remus.”
Lupin looked across at the determined elf. Her hands were on her hips and her lips were pressed together tightly.
“Mr Professor is pretending he is not listening to Mr Remus. But Mr Professor would be wearing a dress and a vulture-topped hat and carrying a red handbag if Mr Remus asked him nicely.”
The elf’s beady eyes looked innocently at Lupin, as if she’d just commented on the weather. The little elf had an alarming thirst for knowledge and had clearly made the surly potions master her latest research project. He continued watching her, seeing something in her expression that he couldn’t quite place.
“Alright Blossom. I’ll have a word. Red, would you like to come with me? You know Severus, Mr Snape, is your cousin’s godfather?”
Red sneered a very Malfoy sneer and replied angrily.
“Would this be a cousin from the family that had my parents and sisters killed and was content to see my brother and me… and let Greyback…“
The boy’s voice faltered and he continued in a weak tone.
“The family who left us to Greyback?”
Lupin put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. He had perhaps been unwise to mention the boy’s family. Red’s brother hadn’t survived the brutality of the pack and, thanks to his pureblood relatives and Greyback, he was alone in the world at fourteen.
“Yes, those relatives. But Severus is a good man. He was on the right side, Red.”
Red followed Lupin somewhat unwillingly to Snape’s basement room.
“Severus, are you there?”
“No, go away.”
Lupin unlocked the door and let himself in, wrinkling his nose. Blossom had been correct. The room smelled like a man who hadn’t washed in some time. He asked Red to stand outside and pointed his wand at the window, opening it to let in some fresh air.
“Severus, if you won’t take a bath, at least use cleaning spells.”
Snape looked down and mumbled, something in his face triggering Lupin’s concern.
“Severus?”
Lupin moved across and put a hand gently on his shoulder.
“Severus? What’s the matter?”
“I can’t remember how. I thought I’d learned them but…”
Snape’s voice faded away and a blush crept up his neck.
“Oh, Severus. If you need help, you just need to ask.”
Lupin quickly cast a few spells.
“I’ll show them to you again a bit later, but right now there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
He called the boy in before Snape could object.
“Severus, this is Ethelred Malfoy - he’s-.”
“Red,” the boy interrupted.
“Red,” Lupin repeated. “He’s usually known as Red. A name like Ethelred doesn’t go down well in Milton Keynes. He’s Claudius Malfoy’s boy.”
Snape looked curiously at the boy. He remembered Claudius Malfoy of course, even if was best to pretend to Lucius that he’d never existed. It had been shock to the family when their younger boy been sorted into Hufflepuff, but that was nothing to the horrible scandal when he’d married the non-magical sister of a muggleborn classmate.
The boy looked just like Draco at that age. His face was softer and less pointy, almost pretty, but he had the same hair, the same pale eyes, the same haughty expression. In Draco, though, the expression had revealed the boy’s inflated sense of entitlement. In this child, this werewolf, Snape reminded himself, it surely masked something quite different. He’d lost his entire family, and Snape knew enough about life in Greyback’s pack to know the boy would not have been treated well.
“Hello, Red.”
He put out his hand and Red just glared at him. Somehow, it made him warm to the boy.
“Red, this is Mr Snape. He’s a friend of mine. We were at school together, and we were even teachers together for a year.”
The werewolf appeared oblivious to the fact that he was being scowled at by both man and boy, and continued in a cheery tone.
“Red and I have been working on some basic wand skills, haven’t we? Red’s found it rather a challenge, he grew up doing everything the muggle way. Do you want to show Mr Snape, Red? He’s a far more experienced teacher than me.”
Red looked cross, but dutifully took the old wand that Lupin handed him. He picked it up as if it would bite him.
“Just show him Lumos. He will get the general idea.”
Red gripped the wand as if he wanted to crush it, gave it a sharp flick and muttered Lumos between clenched teeth. A ball of light formed at the tip of his wand, then shot away, burning a black spot on Snape’s wall.
“Whoops, sorry, Severus. You see, power’s not the issue, it’s more about control.”
“Yes, I see the problem,” Snape said slowly, thinking about the younger werewolf’s wandwork and not paying enough attention to the older werewolf.
“Oh, yes, I did think you would, Severus,” Lupin replied, sounding so pleased with himself that Snape was suddenly suspicious. “I’ve been giving Red lessons when I can, but he really needs more regular practice. It would be marvellous if you could spend some time helping.”
Snape felt a constriction in his chest as he realised Lupin’s intention.
“What do you think, Severus? You aren’t helping Wormwood in the afternoons, are you? How about Red drops by here about one thirty tomorrow, after lunch, and you help him with his practice?”
“Lupin, that’s… I…”
He gaped at Lupin for a moment, struggling for an excuse, and then he saw an escape route. His eyes flicked pointedly to the blonde boy beside him.
“Red, please give us a moment,” Lupin said, and the boy slipped out of the room.
“Lupin,” Snape hissed. “That’s extremely inappropriate. Having a boy visit a man in his bedroom, especially one who… who’s…”
Lupin looked wide-eyed, as if it hadn’t crossed his mind that Snape was a former death eater and crooked, something Snape considered Not Bloody Likely. The werewolf then gave a smile that was far to bright to bring good news for Snape.
“Of course, Severus, you’re quite right. The children generally spend the afternoon in the wolf garden if it’s fine. You can meet him there. If it’s raining, they use the changing room - that’s the large room off the wolf garden. It’s got plenty of space and not too much furniture to trip over. So if the weather’s no good, you can meet there instead.”
Lupin called Red back into the room and announced his plan before Snape could conjure any further objections.
It wasn’t until Snape reluctantly met Red for his lesson the next day that he realised just how thoroughly outmanouevred he had been, yet again, by Remus bloody Lupin. The six werewolf children that Lupin specifically hadn’t asked him to teach had surrounded him and Red as they practiced. The eldest girl held back, not much impressed with the novelty. She was familiar, and her age suggested she could have attended Hogwarts before the war reached its peak. The other children, however, were fascinated to watch someone teach magic. They all wanted to hold the wand, even the three muggle children, for whom it was simply a pretty stick.
One of the other children, a girl a bit younger than Red who introduced herself as Lucy, decided to show off her basic wand skills, which were indeed very basic. Between Lucy and Red, they knew no more than Lumos, Nox, Spongify and a very wobbly Wingardium Leviosa.
“I thought Lupin has been teaching you? What in Merlin’s name has he been doing?”
“He did teach them quite a bit more than that.”
The older girl finally spoke, standing back from the others, with her arms folded.
“He taught them most of the first year charms and spells, some basic herbology, and some decent defence stuff. He was teaching me duelling, even. But he only ever came once or twice a week, and he kept getting tired out. And he’s been here much less since last September.”
Her tone was accusing, as if she knew the reason that Lupin had stopped coming to teach them.
“If you think he’s done such a crap job, you could teach us. You used to be a teacher. You taught me at Hogwarts.”
So he had taught her. But no name came to him. She just stood there, lips thin, eyes defiant. Then she spoke again, in that sharp tone that encouraged no contradiction.
“We help with the creatures in the morning and again in the late afternoon. But we are free with nothing much to do from nine thirty until three, apart from lunch at noon. If you don’t have any textbooks to work from, I can ask my Uncle Hubert. He might have some old ones, he gave us the wand. We can start tomorrow at ten. The dining hall would be best, it has tables and chairs. We will see you then, Mr Snape.”
“I… I help Wormwood with potions preparation. I’m usually busy until at least ten or eleven.”
“Fine, then, eleven it is. And we would love to learn about potion making. Mr Fox is so brilliant, but he never has any time.”
The girl gave him a triumphant smile, and Snape sighed, finally realising that he’d been consummately trapped.
This is a work of fan fiction. The world and all recognisable characters belong to J.K. Rowling (apart from references to Dr Seuss) and I make no claim or profit etc
Outmanoeuvred
In the end, it took very little effort to convince Snape to move to the Institute. Sevvy had been exhausted, and it had taken only a few minutes of Fox in Socks for him to fall asleep against Lupin’s shoulder. When Snape had awoken, he’d been distraught that he’d caused so much trouble, and clearly wanted to accept the offer - couched as a firm recommendation by Andromeda - of accommodation at the Institute.
His one question was whether Mephistopheles, with his taste for fire flovs, would be welcome. He made it quite clear that he was going nowhere without his cat. He paced anxiously until they had sent Athene with a note to check, and retreated to Lupin’s room with Mephistopheles - slamming the door in Lupin’s face - to await the response.
Mandragora’s reply was, in Lupin’s opinion, remarkably polite. He simply reminded Snape that the Institute’s entire existence revolved around caring for magical creatures of every kind, and that he was quite certain that there would be a way to ensure the safety of both the fire flovs and Mephistopheles. He very charitably didn’t find it necessary to mention that he and the Insitute staff had managed to keep, among other things, more than sixty dragons, eight hippogriffs, three cockatrices, a breeding pair of manticores and a Mongolian death worm, not to mention the thirty werewolves which transformed there every month, from killing eachother and their keepers for many years, and were unlikely to be troubled by a cat.
Mephistopheles settled in to the Institute rather more quickly than Snape. He was given the run of the wolf garden when Snape was in the lab, and was soon convincing the werewolf children to bring him treats. After a few brief attempts to get to the fire flovs, he discovered that there were better pickings in the kitchens and staff dining hall.
Snape, on the other hand, refused to go anywhere except the potions lab and his room. Since his room was just down the corridor from the lab, he never left the basement, and most of the Institute staff doubted his existence. Concerned at his apparent reluctance to either eat or wash, Blossom appointed herself as Snape’s personal house elf, and stood in his room making sarcastic comments until he ate his meals and handed over his dirty clothes for the laundry. She filled the bath in his small bathroom, but learned Snape’s limits quickly enough and realised another strategy was required.
“Sir is needing to talk to Mr Professor.”
“What about, Blossom?” Lupin replied distractedly, as he continued to try and get Ethelred Malfoy to hold his wand correctly. While he’d inherited his name and appearance from his pureblooded father - Lucius Malfoy’s younger brother - he’d grown up mostly as a muggle like his mother and had never held a wand before Lupin began teaching him.
Blossom cleared her throat slightly.
“Mr Professor is starting to smell. Mr Professor is not taking a bath even if Blossom is getting it ready.”
“He doesn’t like baths much, Blossom, he usually just uses cleaning spells.”
“Well, Mr Professor is not using spells either. Mr Remus needs to be talking to him.”
Lupin sighed.
“It might be better if Andromeda talks to him. I don’t think he will listen to me.”
“Of course he will. Mr Professor always listens to Mr Remus.”
Lupin looked across at the determined elf. Her hands were on her hips and her lips were pressed together tightly.
“Mr Professor is pretending he is not listening to Mr Remus. But Mr Professor would be wearing a dress and a vulture-topped hat and carrying a red handbag if Mr Remus asked him nicely.”
The elf’s beady eyes looked innocently at Lupin, as if she’d just commented on the weather. The little elf had an alarming thirst for knowledge and had clearly made the surly potions master her latest research project. He continued watching her, seeing something in her expression that he couldn’t quite place.
“Alright Blossom. I’ll have a word. Red, would you like to come with me? You know Severus, Mr Snape, is your cousin’s godfather?”
Red sneered a very Malfoy sneer and replied angrily.
“Would this be a cousin from the family that had my parents and sisters killed and was content to see my brother and me… and let Greyback…“
The boy’s voice faltered and he continued in a weak tone.
“The family who left us to Greyback?”
Lupin put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. He had perhaps been unwise to mention the boy’s family. Red’s brother hadn’t survived the brutality of the pack and, thanks to his pureblood relatives and Greyback, he was alone in the world at fourteen.
“Yes, those relatives. But Severus is a good man. He was on the right side, Red.”
Red followed Lupin somewhat unwillingly to Snape’s basement room.
“Severus, are you there?”
“No, go away.”
Lupin unlocked the door and let himself in, wrinkling his nose. Blossom had been correct. The room smelled like a man who hadn’t washed in some time. He asked Red to stand outside and pointed his wand at the window, opening it to let in some fresh air.
“Severus, if you won’t take a bath, at least use cleaning spells.”
Snape looked down and mumbled, something in his face triggering Lupin’s concern.
“Severus?”
Lupin moved across and put a hand gently on his shoulder.
“Severus? What’s the matter?”
“I can’t remember how. I thought I’d learned them but…”
Snape’s voice faded away and a blush crept up his neck.
“Oh, Severus. If you need help, you just need to ask.”
Lupin quickly cast a few spells.
“I’ll show them to you again a bit later, but right now there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
He called the boy in before Snape could object.
“Severus, this is Ethelred Malfoy - he’s-.”
“Red,” the boy interrupted.
“Red,” Lupin repeated. “He’s usually known as Red. A name like Ethelred doesn’t go down well in Milton Keynes. He’s Claudius Malfoy’s boy.”
Snape looked curiously at the boy. He remembered Claudius Malfoy of course, even if was best to pretend to Lucius that he’d never existed. It had been shock to the family when their younger boy been sorted into Hufflepuff, but that was nothing to the horrible scandal when he’d married the non-magical sister of a muggleborn classmate.
The boy looked just like Draco at that age. His face was softer and less pointy, almost pretty, but he had the same hair, the same pale eyes, the same haughty expression. In Draco, though, the expression had revealed the boy’s inflated sense of entitlement. In this child, this werewolf, Snape reminded himself, it surely masked something quite different. He’d lost his entire family, and Snape knew enough about life in Greyback’s pack to know the boy would not have been treated well.
“Hello, Red.”
He put out his hand and Red just glared at him. Somehow, it made him warm to the boy.
“Red, this is Mr Snape. He’s a friend of mine. We were at school together, and we were even teachers together for a year.”
The werewolf appeared oblivious to the fact that he was being scowled at by both man and boy, and continued in a cheery tone.
“Red and I have been working on some basic wand skills, haven’t we? Red’s found it rather a challenge, he grew up doing everything the muggle way. Do you want to show Mr Snape, Red? He’s a far more experienced teacher than me.”
Red looked cross, but dutifully took the old wand that Lupin handed him. He picked it up as if it would bite him.
“Just show him Lumos. He will get the general idea.”
Red gripped the wand as if he wanted to crush it, gave it a sharp flick and muttered Lumos between clenched teeth. A ball of light formed at the tip of his wand, then shot away, burning a black spot on Snape’s wall.
“Whoops, sorry, Severus. You see, power’s not the issue, it’s more about control.”
“Yes, I see the problem,” Snape said slowly, thinking about the younger werewolf’s wandwork and not paying enough attention to the older werewolf.
“Oh, yes, I did think you would, Severus,” Lupin replied, sounding so pleased with himself that Snape was suddenly suspicious. “I’ve been giving Red lessons when I can, but he really needs more regular practice. It would be marvellous if you could spend some time helping.”
Snape felt a constriction in his chest as he realised Lupin’s intention.
“What do you think, Severus? You aren’t helping Wormwood in the afternoons, are you? How about Red drops by here about one thirty tomorrow, after lunch, and you help him with his practice?”
“Lupin, that’s… I…”
He gaped at Lupin for a moment, struggling for an excuse, and then he saw an escape route. His eyes flicked pointedly to the blonde boy beside him.
“Red, please give us a moment,” Lupin said, and the boy slipped out of the room.
“Lupin,” Snape hissed. “That’s extremely inappropriate. Having a boy visit a man in his bedroom, especially one who… who’s…”
Lupin looked wide-eyed, as if it hadn’t crossed his mind that Snape was a former death eater and crooked, something Snape considered Not Bloody Likely. The werewolf then gave a smile that was far to bright to bring good news for Snape.
“Of course, Severus, you’re quite right. The children generally spend the afternoon in the wolf garden if it’s fine. You can meet him there. If it’s raining, they use the changing room - that’s the large room off the wolf garden. It’s got plenty of space and not too much furniture to trip over. So if the weather’s no good, you can meet there instead.”
Lupin called Red back into the room and announced his plan before Snape could conjure any further objections.
It wasn’t until Snape reluctantly met Red for his lesson the next day that he realised just how thoroughly outmanouevred he had been, yet again, by Remus bloody Lupin. The six werewolf children that Lupin specifically hadn’t asked him to teach had surrounded him and Red as they practiced. The eldest girl held back, not much impressed with the novelty. She was familiar, and her age suggested she could have attended Hogwarts before the war reached its peak. The other children, however, were fascinated to watch someone teach magic. They all wanted to hold the wand, even the three muggle children, for whom it was simply a pretty stick.
One of the other children, a girl a bit younger than Red who introduced herself as Lucy, decided to show off her basic wand skills, which were indeed very basic. Between Lucy and Red, they knew no more than Lumos, Nox, Spongify and a very wobbly Wingardium Leviosa.
“I thought Lupin has been teaching you? What in Merlin’s name has he been doing?”
“He did teach them quite a bit more than that.”
The older girl finally spoke, standing back from the others, with her arms folded.
“He taught them most of the first year charms and spells, some basic herbology, and some decent defence stuff. He was teaching me duelling, even. But he only ever came once or twice a week, and he kept getting tired out. And he’s been here much less since last September.”
Her tone was accusing, as if she knew the reason that Lupin had stopped coming to teach them.
“If you think he’s done such a crap job, you could teach us. You used to be a teacher. You taught me at Hogwarts.”
So he had taught her. But no name came to him. She just stood there, lips thin, eyes defiant. Then she spoke again, in that sharp tone that encouraged no contradiction.
“We help with the creatures in the morning and again in the late afternoon. But we are free with nothing much to do from nine thirty until three, apart from lunch at noon. If you don’t have any textbooks to work from, I can ask my Uncle Hubert. He might have some old ones, he gave us the wand. We can start tomorrow at ten. The dining hall would be best, it has tables and chairs. We will see you then, Mr Snape.”
“I… I help Wormwood with potions preparation. I’m usually busy until at least ten or eleven.”
“Fine, then, eleven it is. And we would love to learn about potion making. Mr Fox is so brilliant, but he never has any time.”
The girl gave him a triumphant smile, and Snape sighed, finally realising that he’d been consummately trapped.