Potions Revision with Ginevra
Date: Sunday, 26 March, 2000
Time: Mid-afternoon
Place: Spinner's End
Characters Involved: Ginevra Weasley, Theo Nott, Severus Snape
Rating: G, though watch for the scattered made-up Potions Bull-S*** so as not to get any on your shoes.
The morning had not started well. Not that he had expected anything in his life to go 'well' at this point, all things considered, but it had started out even more 'not-well' than usual. He had succeeded in offending Lupin so much at the Gala, that the man was now calling him 'Snape'. In fact, doing so frequently, using his name far oftener than was even normal, just so everyone around could look at them askance as Lupin called him 'Snape' as though the word was an insult.
Severus knew he was a very unpleasant and generally impersonable person. This was not news. The surprising thing about this present situation was that he was clearly far more deficient than he had realised--it took a very unsatisfactory individual, indeed, who could piss off Remus Lupin enough that the man was still in a snit the next day. Severus had expected to feel 'proud' of his accomplishment. Instead, he only felt bothered by it, which added to his current level of irritation.
Then, of course, there had been the gossip rag. To say Severus was furious would have been like saying dragons are not the best house-pets. 'The Next Dark Lord'? Bloody hell, wasn't one each century enough? How did someone who only wanted to be left alone possibly display enough ambition to give the idea that was even one of his goals?
Being used to such slights against his own person, he could have ignored it, or else used it to foster a nice sulk--though he didn't really need help in that department--and gone on about his business without much bother. However, it was not just himself whose name and reputation was dragged through the muck. It was every single individual who lived in his house, most of whom he did not loathe, even a little (the jury was still out on Lupin at present). Something must be done in the way of damage control, but what?
He scarcely had time to brood on this particular dilemma, when an Owl arrived from none other than Harry effing Potter, carrying two dozen white roses, and a card.
Twenty points for sheer cheek, Potter, but minus ten for bad timing. Had you read the newspapers today, you would have known I'd already be too angry over their content to kill you properly.
The roses were nothing, really, in the face of his present irritation, though he supposed his housemates would enjoy additional laughter at his expense. He transfigured an ordinary goblet into a decent sized vase, not having any at-hand, put the roses in it and filled it with water, leaving the bouquet and the card on the table for everyone to see and get their jollies.
Ha ha ha ha. Let's all laugh at Snape.
Merlin, he hated being Laughed at.
He had tried to do the 'right thing' by keeping Miss Weasley away from the house, but with typical Gryffindor bollocks, she had refused. He was not surprised, but he had to make the attempt. The child was reminding him more and more of Lily Evans all the time, and he found himself grudgingly almost liking her more and more. Grudgingly. Almost.
At least he had the prospect of total sensory immersion into his Potions for a few hours today. Teaching the finer-points of the art was something which would require all his concentration and intense focus. Shutting off his building 'fit of the sullens' until it could be properly indulged and wallowed in, Severus made certain of his supplies and ingredients down in the cellar while he waited for Miss Weasley--ah! Ginevra! That was still going to take some getting used to--waited for Ginevra to arrive.
He rather expected Theo to pop his head in at some point as well. The boy was bright and seemed more than a bit too isolated, so Severus had invited him to 'listen in' as it were. Besides, when on a roll, Theo could discuss theory with the best of them--though Severus was still hesitant to allow anyone near his cauldrons for actual 'put the theory to use' sort of work.
So, he hid in his cellar and waited for her arrival.
Time: Mid-afternoon
Place: Spinner's End
Characters Involved: Ginevra Weasley, Theo Nott, Severus Snape
Rating: G, though watch for the scattered made-up Potions Bull-S*** so as not to get any on your shoes.
The morning had not started well. Not that he had expected anything in his life to go 'well' at this point, all things considered, but it had started out even more 'not-well' than usual. He had succeeded in offending Lupin so much at the Gala, that the man was now calling him 'Snape'. In fact, doing so frequently, using his name far oftener than was even normal, just so everyone around could look at them askance as Lupin called him 'Snape' as though the word was an insult.
Severus knew he was a very unpleasant and generally impersonable person. This was not news. The surprising thing about this present situation was that he was clearly far more deficient than he had realised--it took a very unsatisfactory individual, indeed, who could piss off Remus Lupin enough that the man was still in a snit the next day. Severus had expected to feel 'proud' of his accomplishment. Instead, he only felt bothered by it, which added to his current level of irritation.
Then, of course, there had been the gossip rag. To say Severus was furious would have been like saying dragons are not the best house-pets. 'The Next Dark Lord'? Bloody hell, wasn't one each century enough? How did someone who only wanted to be left alone possibly display enough ambition to give the idea that was even one of his goals?
Being used to such slights against his own person, he could have ignored it, or else used it to foster a nice sulk--though he didn't really need help in that department--and gone on about his business without much bother. However, it was not just himself whose name and reputation was dragged through the muck. It was every single individual who lived in his house, most of whom he did not loathe, even a little (the jury was still out on Lupin at present). Something must be done in the way of damage control, but what?
He scarcely had time to brood on this particular dilemma, when an Owl arrived from none other than Harry effing Potter, carrying two dozen white roses, and a card.
Twenty points for sheer cheek, Potter, but minus ten for bad timing. Had you read the newspapers today, you would have known I'd already be too angry over their content to kill you properly.
The roses were nothing, really, in the face of his present irritation, though he supposed his housemates would enjoy additional laughter at his expense. He transfigured an ordinary goblet into a decent sized vase, not having any at-hand, put the roses in it and filled it with water, leaving the bouquet and the card on the table for everyone to see and get their jollies.
Ha ha ha ha. Let's all laugh at Snape.
Merlin, he hated being Laughed at.
He had tried to do the 'right thing' by keeping Miss Weasley away from the house, but with typical Gryffindor bollocks, she had refused. He was not surprised, but he had to make the attempt. The child was reminding him more and more of Lily Evans all the time, and he found himself grudgingly almost liking her more and more. Grudgingly. Almost.
At least he had the prospect of total sensory immersion into his Potions for a few hours today. Teaching the finer-points of the art was something which would require all his concentration and intense focus. Shutting off his building 'fit of the sullens' until it could be properly indulged and wallowed in, Severus made certain of his supplies and ingredients down in the cellar while he waited for Miss Weasley--ah! Ginevra! That was still going to take some getting used to--waited for Ginevra to arrive.
He rather expected Theo to pop his head in at some point as well. The boy was bright and seemed more than a bit too isolated, so Severus had invited him to 'listen in' as it were. Besides, when on a roll, Theo could discuss theory with the best of them--though Severus was still hesitant to allow anyone near his cauldrons for actual 'put the theory to use' sort of work.
So, he hid in his cellar and waited for her arrival.