"Secretly" Parts 1&2
Hello! *salutes* First post, here. This is a revamping of an old story I started four years ago. I would love a beta for future parts, so if there are any takers, please let me know. Sorry, I'm really terrible at summaries.
Title: "Secretly"
Author: kismetologist
Chapter(s): 1 & 2
Category: Drama/Romance
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Summary: Set post-war, Ginny has returned to finish her education at Hogwarts. Severus Snape has resumed his post as Potions Master, but can his students (one in particular) accept that he is not a cold blooded murderer?
1.
It had not been a good day. It was a Monday, and Ginny had woken up clinging to the hope that maybe--just maybe--it was Sunday. She had crossed her fingers, hoping that somehow, time had been turned and the weekend wasn't over. But when she opened her bed's heavy drapes, the muggle clock her father had charmed and given her for Christmas years before gleefully blinked the day, date and time. It was Monday, and it was too early.
Breakfast in the Great Hall was winding down by the time Ginny dragged herself down, and the elves had stopped sending up fresh food. The pickings were pitifully slim, and the Hall was practically empty. The emptiness did nothing for her mood. These days, meal times at Hogwarts were sparsely attended due to the low enrollment rate. After the war, there had been no one, simply no one at all, enrolling for the new school year. For the first time in Hogwarts history, there was no incoming class of first years. Not only that, half the students in years 2-5 were being held at home by their parents. Those in upper years were working to tie up the loose ends of the war. Ginny didn't like to think of the hundreds upon hundreds of students who were dead, or just missing, during those months after Voldemort's death. Even now, two years later, many were missing. Even now, many were being schooled by their parents, witches and wizards still too jumpy to send their young off on the train at the end of the summer.
Ginny, as a rule, hated meals. The reminder that things would never be the same around Hogwarts was the last thing one needed in the morning. So on this Monday morning, she grabbed a muffin and a glass of pumpkin juice, and took them with her on her way to class. On her way out the door, she spotted Remus Lupin walking towards the Hall. He nodded at her and she waved back. He sent her a wink, and headed into the Great Hall.
Reason number three to hate this day: Monday mornings were Potions with the Slytherins and Ravenclaws. She finished her muffin just as she reached the steps leading down to the dungeon. Committing cardinal sin right behind the back of a prefect, Ginny littered and left the empty goblet of juice on the floor behind a small sculpture. Cheering silently at her good fortune, she moved to sidestep around the prefect and towards the classroom. It was the feeling of the prefect's hand on her elbow that sealed the fate of the day: the whole thing was shot to hell.
**
Severus Snape hated his job. The Potions Master surveyed his class from his station behind the large stone desk at the front of the classroom. Seventh Years. Most of them were arrogant little brats, having just come off two years of fighting a war thinking they now carried all the knowledge in the world. His eyes scanned the rows. Slytherins. Ravenclaws. Gryffindors, all seated among the back rows. All smug little...
Weasley. Obviously not paying attention, her hands lazily slicing ingredients while her eyes stared off into space. Snape tapped the point of his quill against the desk, leaving tiny black dots on the surface. The desk magically cleaned itself, the dots appearing and disappearing. Over the years previous, Severus had worked closely with a handful of these students. After his name was cleared, a mere month before Voldemort fell, and he resumed his work as a double agent, he had been placed in living quarters with other doubles. Two of these double agents had been sixth year students, one a seventh year. All three were Slytherins, and one of them sat in his classroom at present. The other two were dead. Kurtis, the survivor of the three, had returned to Hogwarts a subdued and introverted boy. He had crossed paths with Ravenclaw students lending a hand to their professors, doing research and formulating new spells and charms. But it was the Gryffindors. They had wormed their way into the effort, too young and impetuous for the battles they would face, but of course they were all so full of themselves. Especially those in Potter's inner circle. He could little deny that many of them had acted impressively. It was the way they had swaggered back into Hogwarts, a year after the defeat. It was the way they patted themselves on the back for being such brave lionhearted soldiers. It was the superiority. He loathed it.
Minerva had rolled her eyes in his direction more than once since the beginning of the school year. "Severus," she had sighed at the first faculty meeting "Please, I beg you, leave off with this childish behavior."
Childish. Childish? Swaggering aside, it had been the Gryffindor wunderkinds who had been the most venomous just after Severus returned. Presently, his eyes fell on Ginny Weasley, who had had the gall to confront him in his holding cell, delivering a self-righteous speech Potter had probably written for her. That bratty, ginger little twa--
Oh Lord was she about to mix the fairy wings before stirring? The damn cauldron will--
**
Covered in orange slime, Ginny mopped futilely at her desk. She kept her eyes trained on the gooey surface, rather than looking up at Snape. He stood over her, fuming silently. The rest of her classmates were slowly filing out of the room, each covered to some extent with her mess.
"Fifty points for inattention." Snape said, his voice slippery and low. "Perhaps in the future, Miss Weasley, it would be wiser to pay attention to your cauldron, and not to silly daydreams."
Ginny bit her tongue and continued to mop.
"In addition to my deduction, I would like you to attempt this potion again during lunch hour today."
Ginny looked up sharply at this, rag poised in mid air. A glob of orange dripped off of it and plopped onto the desk. "During lunch? But--"
"Perhaps you would rather detention."
"Detention? It was a simple mistake!" Ginny felt her face heat up. Her resolve to remain quiet, to keep herself from glaring at Snape, from talking back, was quickly fading. Especially now that that trademark nasty smirk of his had settled onto his lips.
"A mistake a first year would make. You and I are well aware, Miss Weasley of the stupidity in your actions."
"Sna-- Professor. I apologize, but I really don't think--"
"What you think is irrelevant here, Weasley. Or do you fancy yourself above the rest? Insubordination will not be tolerated--"
Ginny couldn't hold back. Her mother was forever bemoaning the Weasley temper her children had inherited, and Snape was about to see it (not for the first time, either). "I fancy myself no different from anyone else!" she found her voice coming out slightly shrill "Had a Slytherin made the same mistake--!"
"Enough!" Snape barked.
"No! I've had it."
With this entire bloody day. Ginny thought, And it's not even lunch yet.
"The percentage of Gryffindor points deducted in this class alone is abominable." Ginny said, standing and dropping the rag with a wet plop. She began to gather her things. "You have never been fair. Not once in eight years. But lately it is disgustingly obvious how much you just hate us. It's unprofessional--" She threw her bag over her shoulder "It's immature--" Snape looked faintly purple "It's pathetic. We deserve some credit, you know. We aren't children for--"
"I said, ENOUGH!"
Snape stood rigid, his fists at his sides. He didn't move, did not show the rage on his face. But it radiated from him, roiled through the room and made her feel much smaller. It angered her to know that he could still intimidate her, even after all she had seen.
Ginny turned to leave.
"You will finish cleaning up." Snape hissed.
"No." Ginny said, "You will."
"Lunch today. You are to complete this potion. And you will serve detention for your insolence, unless you clean this up."
Ginny looked from the puddle to her professor's face. "I'll take detention, thanks."
**
"You didn't!" Galina Drevkin was aghast that night at dinner. "Oh Ginny, I don't believe you."
"Believe it." Ginny said without enthusiasm as she poked her potatoes with her fork. "I had to spend all of lunch in that dank dungeon."
"Oh, no, what was he like then?"
"He wasn't there, he just left the instructions."
Galina let out a whoosh of breathe and shook her head. "That is very lucky for you."
A pretty girl of 15, Galina was a transfer from a Russian wizarding school. She was petite and blond with a regal face and sharp grey eyes. She came from a rough area of the country, called Kamatchka. She was a fourth year, rather behind for her age because of the war. Over the first week that year, Ginny and Galina had struck quite a bond and took most of their meals together.
"This day was absolute bollocks. This morning alone, I lost 60 points for the house. Ten points for leaving a bloody goblet in the hall!" Ginny muttered, "And now I've got tomorrow night with that utter prick to look forward to."
"That is very unlucky." Her companion agreed. "I do not understand how you explozed your cauldron, you are very good at potions are you not?"
Ginny giggled, "It's exploded. And I was just distracted, thinking about...things."
"Exploded." Galina repeated the word quietly. For a moment, Ginny was sure she had escaped further questioning on the subject. But then those snow cap eyes fixed on her and Galina grinned. "You were thinking about Harry Potter."
"No." Ginny flushed, "That's all over with."
"Not in that heart." Galina pointed to Ginny's chest. "It's okay, I know what you go through."
Ginny was quiet. She had been thinking about Harry, but not the way Galina assumed. She was, for the most part, over their short romance. Of course in the beginning it was hard. Seeing him every day at Hogwarts, and then after the evacuation in the camps, had been difficult. As a result, she spent much of the war working in different areas. She spent as much time in the field, helping in search after search for missing wizards, powerful artifacts. Ginny had little to do with any of the horcrux business, as the triumvirate of Harry, Hermione and Ron were at the center of those quests. She had ached for their company, but knew that being close to Harry would only be worse. But after time, it faded. She was busy doing her part, offering her skills in potions and charms and becoming quite the assistant to Remus Lupin. The war reached a fever pitch around what would have been the beginning of summer holidays after her sixth year, and Harry had come to her and asked her to help him with a protective potion. Working with Harry forced Ginny to get over it. She hadn't been there when Harry defeated Voldemort, but when he and her brother had stumbled into a mediwizard tent she was waiting. She had always assumed, when picturing the moment in her mind, that they would embrace and she would cry and he would kiss her. But at that moment, almost a year after they had ended their relationship, she could only laugh and cry, and laugh. She had hugged him tightly, but the romance and lust had ebbed away. For the first time, she felt whole, as thought she just didn't need Harry to make everything all right. In fact, *he* had needed her!
No, she had only wondered what he was up to, and that had distracted her from her potion. It wasn't just Harry, she wondered about Hermione and Ron. What was happening in the ministry? What had changed? Owl post wasn't secure enough for them to tell her in any detail. She felt excluded; she had become so accustomed to being "in the know" and now here she was, back in school and all she could be was a student. At times it was infuriating to be a child again. But mostly, Ginny was just lonely.
**
"I've had my fill of these children, Minerva." Severus said. He had been pacing the length of the headmistress' office for the past several minutes, and McGonnagal feared for her carpet.
"Severus."
"And spare me the lecture. They are not adults, however much they may fancy themselves grown. The level of magic they have yet to master! They have lost all respect for authority, and I blame the lax attitude you have taken--"
"You'll forgive me for interupting!" Minerva's face was tight with annoyance, "My position has been in no way a loose one. I agree with you, Professor Snape, that these students have much to learn. But they are children no more. You know this. They have all, each and every one, left the blissful ignorance of childhood. They have demonstrated poise, and courage. I am sorry, but it remains my opinion that we must keep in mind what their lives have been."
"You are saying we should let them disobey the orders of their teachers? Get away with insubordination and flagrant ignorance to the rules?"
"I am saying no such thing. Tea?" Minerva, now seated at her sidetable, offered the pot. Severus made a noise under his breath and waved it away. "Severus," she poured him a cup anyway "I know what you are facing, here. Many of them have yet to make peace with Dumbledore's death. They have yet to accept that you did not murder him in cold blood. Even if they could, they have seen many of their fellow students betray them, and as much as I hate to say it--most of those students who now reside in Azkaban were members of your house. Now, I do not condone any prejudice between houses. I will stamp out any conflicts that should arise. But the fact is, these are frightened and distrustful students and one can not expect things to be as they were before the blasted bloody war."
Severus took the tea, finally seated himself in one of the gold brocade wing chairs and sipped. He sighed, "I'll not be treated like a traitor any longer. I don't care what they have been through."
"Severus," Minerva's voice was soft when she said his name, and he knew he was in for one of her rare grandmotherly moments usually only bestowed on tearful students who were about to learn a lesson. "Just let Virginia Weasley serve her detention. If it is necessary, and I mean if it is deserved, send her to me for any further discipline. I know you have had past confrontations with her, and I am well aware of how vengeful you feel. Do not exact revenge on an eighteen year old girl, Severus. Are we clear?"
He nodded, drank his tea, and cursed under his breath.
2.
On the night of her detention, Ginny Weasley had about twenty feet of homework to do. Every single class has assigned a nice long essay, to be turned in by Thursday. Not only that, she had Quidditch practice up until the hour of her detention. Not only that, but the entire night before had been spent up late in the common room with Galina, playing exploding snap, then in the dormitory writing letters to her family, Harry and Hermione. She had hardly any sleep, a full day of classes, and since she knew she would have to catch up on homework she had missed lunch all together. Not only that, but there had been no reply to any of her letters. She had kept her eyes trained on the owls swooping into the Hall during breakfast, looking for one she recognized as Hedwig or Pig. Nothing but the Daily Prophet had been delivered to her lap that morning. Not receiving even the shortest of note from Harry did nothing for her mood.
She walked from the dormitory with Galina, going as slowly as possible and stopping to talk to students she barely knew, just to prolong the trudge down to the dungeons.
**
Severus checked the clock on his desk. It was not unlike an old fashioned muggle alarm clock: brass, round, two bells on top. It was also not unlike the clock in the Weasley home, with several hands, except his clock could have appointments assigned to the hands, and these appointments could be changed at his will. Two hands pointed to "Completed", one labeled "Drinks, Hogsmeade" pointed to "Saturday". The one labeled "Weasley Detention" was teetering towards "Late". He was grading parchments, tapping his foot, and growing more irritated the more the hand inched clockwise.
On his desk, by his right hand, a purple envelope rested. He glanced at it, wondered if he had time to open it before Weasley showed up. Severus wondered if he would ever open the cursed thing. Cursed, he thought. What an appropriate word. Murmurers were not cursed, however, they were charmed. Delivered in purple envelopes, murmurers were similar to howlers--made by the same company, in fact. Murmurers were spoken quietly, and were used for telling secrets, though of course not true secrets. They were used, mostly by teenage girls giggling through purple paper in hushed tones about their latest loves. He had seen, and forced back disgust over, first year students carrying these purple envelopes. He knew many mothers must send them, soothing messages for their children who were away from home for the first time.
Murmurers only came to Severus from his own mother, though these were not soothing notes. His mother resided at St. Mungo's, and had done since Severus was fourteen years old. She was mad, simply put, gone insane after being hit by Imperio one time too many. She sent murmurers to her son, ranting in a low and ragged voice, sometimes sobbing, other times begging. They were torturous, and he recieved one at least once a month. He picked up the murmurer, glancing at the clock. "Weasley Detention" was firmly resting at "Late"
He thought better of opening the murmurer just then, and luckily so because it was at that moment that Ginny Weasley came rushing through the door.
"You're late."
**
Ginny sighed, bit her tongue, and moved further into the room. "I apologize." She sounded forced even to her own ears.
"Tardiness to a detention deserves another, don't you think?" Snape tapped his fingers against his desk. Ginny opened her mouth to protest, but he was quick to cut her off. "Never mind, Weasley. I have no intention of subjecting myself to another evening spent in your company. Let's get down to business, shall we?"
"Yes." She said, then added "Sir."
It was as thought she simply couldn't help testing him. He stared her down but said nothing. Ginny counted her lucky stars and reminded herself to try and keep her tongue in check. Her eyes fell on the purple envelope beneath the fingers of Snape's hand. He noticed and quickly shoved it under some parchments. Clearing her throat, Ginny gestured to a table full of vials, beakers, jars, small cauldrons, and other potions tools. All were encrusted with old ingredients and discarded potions. "Am I to clean these?"
"Yes, Miss Weasley, you will spend your detention making certain that each and every piece is spic and span. These are my own private potions accessories and I have very high standards. You will stay until you are finished."
Ginny couldn't believe her good fortune. She approached the table, taking out her wand.
"No wand, Weasley." Snape called. The nasty tone in his voice made her teeth clench. Ginny turned to look back at him, but Snape was bent over the parchments, a red-inked quill making several marks.
She sighed and put away her wand. She saw a bucket of purple-tinted soapy water, a wash rag and a pipe cleaner. Muggle cleaning? Ginny new very well that Snape would never stoop to such levels (quite low in his opinion, she was sure) to clean the implements himself. She hated him just a bit more as she looked into a cualdron crusty with something that smelled like vomit and looked like mucus.
**
Weasley had been cleaning for about twenty minutes when Severus finished grading his parchments. He picked up the murmurer and tapped it against his palm for a moment.
"Weasley, continue working." He called over, "I'll be in my office. I will know if you have moved from that spot."
"Wouldn't dream of it." She said sarcastically, but without much bite.
"Five points for insolence."
Severus rose from his chair and turned to leave. "I am aware that you are making an obscene gesture, Weasley. Please spare me from wasting energy on deduction more points from your house."
The sound of something metal being fumbled and dropped made him smirk as he used his wand to unlock the wards which kept his office protected.
Once inside, he seated himself in a leather club chair--his favorite, with a mahogany table beside it. On the table a bottle of muggle brandy and one crystal tumbler rested, and Severus poured himself a drink. He sipped it, letting the warmth of the liquor spread through his chest. He flipped open the envelope, and a low female voice trickled into the air. His mother must have hunched over the royal purple paper, twitching madly, her hands shaking and lending the sound of moving paper to the message. She was a very, very elderly woman, reaching the age of eighty-seven this winter, and her voice was as dry as parchment.
"I know what you've done. I know, my boy. Traitor. Child ripped from my putrid loins, the pain I still feel the regret eating my intestines. My liver is rotting, Severus, and they won't give me my medicine."
Severus glanced at the glass held loosely in his fingers. An alcoholic, his mother was never the picture of sanity and composure even before Imperio. Deprived of the drink for over twenty years now, she still bitterly blamed him for the loss of her "medicine". Bottoms up, he thought and drained his glass.
"Forgiveness? Forgiveness? The bloody disgusting god damn cursed filthy...they took over our world! my world! And you, my traitorous offspring you spawn of useless man and broken woman. You let it happen you help the cockroaches to infest...the day I call you son is the day I cut off my withered left tit..."
Severus did not close the envelope. Howlers, when closed or left unread, would explode. Murmurers varied, depending on the content and the sender. Many young girls charmed them to fold into useless paper flowers. Murmurers for Roerva Snape festered and rotted. He would much rather listen to his mother's quiet, reedy rantings than smell the stink of rotting sewage overlaid with the antiseptic smell of her hospital room.
**
Of course Ginny stationed herself outside the door. He'll catch me at any minute, she thought. She strained to hear through the door. She could detect a woman's voice, certainly belonging to an old woman. The murmurer had thrown her off when she'd spotted it, and while cleaning test tubes and vials she had laughed to herself over the notion of Snape recieving the kind of murmurer Lavender Brown had once sent to Ginny, whispering "Well he says he likes you, but I don't know if he likes, likes you and oh, my god don't tell anyone but Dean said that Seamus told him that Neville's lab partner in Herbology heard from..." and so on.
When Snape had swept into her office she had ignored his warning, which she was sure had been an empty threat, she had sprung to his office door. She pressed her ear more firmly to the door. She could hear snippets of the voice. "bloody disgusting...my world!...infest...the day i call you son is the day i cut off my withered left tit." Startled, Ginny pulled away, looking at the wood grain of the door incredulously. Could that possibly be Snape's mother? But she sounded so very elderly. Snape was a few years younger than Ginny's own parents, making him no older than forty. His mother sounded at least ninety.
"You imprison...pathetic little...NO!"
The voice stopped. Ginny stood at the door, trying to hear more. She leaned against it a bit more and...
Fell inside when the door was open, landing directly at the feet of Severus Snape. He glowered down at her unspeaking and Ginny knew she had never seen him so furious.
"Get. Up." He commanded.
Ginny scrambled to her feet, feeling the blood drain from her face. "Professor, I--"
"Silence!" He growled. "Get out of my classroom."
"But my detention!"
"You shall serve another tomorrow evening when I have decided an appropriate punishment for eavesdropping on my..."
Ginny knew he was trying to decide what to say. Conversation? He knew she was well aware that he had been listening to a murmurer. She had never seen Snape scramble for words. She said, "Professor Snape I didn't hear anything. I mean I don't think I-- I apologize I..."
"Your apology means nothing." Snape said, his voice cold, his body rigid. "You are an arrogant, presumptuous, disobedient little girl and you have invaded my privacy after I explicitly instructed you to continue the task I assigned. I will speak to the Headmistress in order to determine your penalties for the last several days of violations."
Ginny felt the color return to her face, her cheeks reddening. The anger in her chest threatened to explode in a scream. She was truly sorry for listening in, she felt guilt over hearing something so personal. She was furious that she had been forced to feel sorry for Snape. She was furious at the prospect of serving yet more detention in this cursed dungeon.
"If you are wise you will bite your tongue." Snape said. He walked towards his office and spoke without turning around. "Get out. Expect to spend tomorrow evening serving detention."
Ginny hesitated for only a moment before fleeing the dungeon, letting the heavy door slam behind her.
Title: "Secretly"
Author: kismetologist
Chapter(s): 1 & 2
Category: Drama/Romance
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Summary: Set post-war, Ginny has returned to finish her education at Hogwarts. Severus Snape has resumed his post as Potions Master, but can his students (one in particular) accept that he is not a cold blooded murderer?
1.
It had not been a good day. It was a Monday, and Ginny had woken up clinging to the hope that maybe--just maybe--it was Sunday. She had crossed her fingers, hoping that somehow, time had been turned and the weekend wasn't over. But when she opened her bed's heavy drapes, the muggle clock her father had charmed and given her for Christmas years before gleefully blinked the day, date and time. It was Monday, and it was too early.
Breakfast in the Great Hall was winding down by the time Ginny dragged herself down, and the elves had stopped sending up fresh food. The pickings were pitifully slim, and the Hall was practically empty. The emptiness did nothing for her mood. These days, meal times at Hogwarts were sparsely attended due to the low enrollment rate. After the war, there had been no one, simply no one at all, enrolling for the new school year. For the first time in Hogwarts history, there was no incoming class of first years. Not only that, half the students in years 2-5 were being held at home by their parents. Those in upper years were working to tie up the loose ends of the war. Ginny didn't like to think of the hundreds upon hundreds of students who were dead, or just missing, during those months after Voldemort's death. Even now, two years later, many were missing. Even now, many were being schooled by their parents, witches and wizards still too jumpy to send their young off on the train at the end of the summer.
Ginny, as a rule, hated meals. The reminder that things would never be the same around Hogwarts was the last thing one needed in the morning. So on this Monday morning, she grabbed a muffin and a glass of pumpkin juice, and took them with her on her way to class. On her way out the door, she spotted Remus Lupin walking towards the Hall. He nodded at her and she waved back. He sent her a wink, and headed into the Great Hall.
Reason number three to hate this day: Monday mornings were Potions with the Slytherins and Ravenclaws. She finished her muffin just as she reached the steps leading down to the dungeon. Committing cardinal sin right behind the back of a prefect, Ginny littered and left the empty goblet of juice on the floor behind a small sculpture. Cheering silently at her good fortune, she moved to sidestep around the prefect and towards the classroom. It was the feeling of the prefect's hand on her elbow that sealed the fate of the day: the whole thing was shot to hell.
**
Severus Snape hated his job. The Potions Master surveyed his class from his station behind the large stone desk at the front of the classroom. Seventh Years. Most of them were arrogant little brats, having just come off two years of fighting a war thinking they now carried all the knowledge in the world. His eyes scanned the rows. Slytherins. Ravenclaws. Gryffindors, all seated among the back rows. All smug little...
Weasley. Obviously not paying attention, her hands lazily slicing ingredients while her eyes stared off into space. Snape tapped the point of his quill against the desk, leaving tiny black dots on the surface. The desk magically cleaned itself, the dots appearing and disappearing. Over the years previous, Severus had worked closely with a handful of these students. After his name was cleared, a mere month before Voldemort fell, and he resumed his work as a double agent, he had been placed in living quarters with other doubles. Two of these double agents had been sixth year students, one a seventh year. All three were Slytherins, and one of them sat in his classroom at present. The other two were dead. Kurtis, the survivor of the three, had returned to Hogwarts a subdued and introverted boy. He had crossed paths with Ravenclaw students lending a hand to their professors, doing research and formulating new spells and charms. But it was the Gryffindors. They had wormed their way into the effort, too young and impetuous for the battles they would face, but of course they were all so full of themselves. Especially those in Potter's inner circle. He could little deny that many of them had acted impressively. It was the way they had swaggered back into Hogwarts, a year after the defeat. It was the way they patted themselves on the back for being such brave lionhearted soldiers. It was the superiority. He loathed it.
Minerva had rolled her eyes in his direction more than once since the beginning of the school year. "Severus," she had sighed at the first faculty meeting "Please, I beg you, leave off with this childish behavior."
Childish. Childish? Swaggering aside, it had been the Gryffindor wunderkinds who had been the most venomous just after Severus returned. Presently, his eyes fell on Ginny Weasley, who had had the gall to confront him in his holding cell, delivering a self-righteous speech Potter had probably written for her. That bratty, ginger little twa--
Oh Lord was she about to mix the fairy wings before stirring? The damn cauldron will--
**
Covered in orange slime, Ginny mopped futilely at her desk. She kept her eyes trained on the gooey surface, rather than looking up at Snape. He stood over her, fuming silently. The rest of her classmates were slowly filing out of the room, each covered to some extent with her mess.
"Fifty points for inattention." Snape said, his voice slippery and low. "Perhaps in the future, Miss Weasley, it would be wiser to pay attention to your cauldron, and not to silly daydreams."
Ginny bit her tongue and continued to mop.
"In addition to my deduction, I would like you to attempt this potion again during lunch hour today."
Ginny looked up sharply at this, rag poised in mid air. A glob of orange dripped off of it and plopped onto the desk. "During lunch? But--"
"Perhaps you would rather detention."
"Detention? It was a simple mistake!" Ginny felt her face heat up. Her resolve to remain quiet, to keep herself from glaring at Snape, from talking back, was quickly fading. Especially now that that trademark nasty smirk of his had settled onto his lips.
"A mistake a first year would make. You and I are well aware, Miss Weasley of the stupidity in your actions."
"Sna-- Professor. I apologize, but I really don't think--"
"What you think is irrelevant here, Weasley. Or do you fancy yourself above the rest? Insubordination will not be tolerated--"
Ginny couldn't hold back. Her mother was forever bemoaning the Weasley temper her children had inherited, and Snape was about to see it (not for the first time, either). "I fancy myself no different from anyone else!" she found her voice coming out slightly shrill "Had a Slytherin made the same mistake--!"
"Enough!" Snape barked.
"No! I've had it."
With this entire bloody day. Ginny thought, And it's not even lunch yet.
"The percentage of Gryffindor points deducted in this class alone is abominable." Ginny said, standing and dropping the rag with a wet plop. She began to gather her things. "You have never been fair. Not once in eight years. But lately it is disgustingly obvious how much you just hate us. It's unprofessional--" She threw her bag over her shoulder "It's immature--" Snape looked faintly purple "It's pathetic. We deserve some credit, you know. We aren't children for--"
"I said, ENOUGH!"
Snape stood rigid, his fists at his sides. He didn't move, did not show the rage on his face. But it radiated from him, roiled through the room and made her feel much smaller. It angered her to know that he could still intimidate her, even after all she had seen.
Ginny turned to leave.
"You will finish cleaning up." Snape hissed.
"No." Ginny said, "You will."
"Lunch today. You are to complete this potion. And you will serve detention for your insolence, unless you clean this up."
Ginny looked from the puddle to her professor's face. "I'll take detention, thanks."
**
"You didn't!" Galina Drevkin was aghast that night at dinner. "Oh Ginny, I don't believe you."
"Believe it." Ginny said without enthusiasm as she poked her potatoes with her fork. "I had to spend all of lunch in that dank dungeon."
"Oh, no, what was he like then?"
"He wasn't there, he just left the instructions."
Galina let out a whoosh of breathe and shook her head. "That is very lucky for you."
A pretty girl of 15, Galina was a transfer from a Russian wizarding school. She was petite and blond with a regal face and sharp grey eyes. She came from a rough area of the country, called Kamatchka. She was a fourth year, rather behind for her age because of the war. Over the first week that year, Ginny and Galina had struck quite a bond and took most of their meals together.
"This day was absolute bollocks. This morning alone, I lost 60 points for the house. Ten points for leaving a bloody goblet in the hall!" Ginny muttered, "And now I've got tomorrow night with that utter prick to look forward to."
"That is very unlucky." Her companion agreed. "I do not understand how you explozed your cauldron, you are very good at potions are you not?"
Ginny giggled, "It's exploded. And I was just distracted, thinking about...things."
"Exploded." Galina repeated the word quietly. For a moment, Ginny was sure she had escaped further questioning on the subject. But then those snow cap eyes fixed on her and Galina grinned. "You were thinking about Harry Potter."
"No." Ginny flushed, "That's all over with."
"Not in that heart." Galina pointed to Ginny's chest. "It's okay, I know what you go through."
Ginny was quiet. She had been thinking about Harry, but not the way Galina assumed. She was, for the most part, over their short romance. Of course in the beginning it was hard. Seeing him every day at Hogwarts, and then after the evacuation in the camps, had been difficult. As a result, she spent much of the war working in different areas. She spent as much time in the field, helping in search after search for missing wizards, powerful artifacts. Ginny had little to do with any of the horcrux business, as the triumvirate of Harry, Hermione and Ron were at the center of those quests. She had ached for their company, but knew that being close to Harry would only be worse. But after time, it faded. She was busy doing her part, offering her skills in potions and charms and becoming quite the assistant to Remus Lupin. The war reached a fever pitch around what would have been the beginning of summer holidays after her sixth year, and Harry had come to her and asked her to help him with a protective potion. Working with Harry forced Ginny to get over it. She hadn't been there when Harry defeated Voldemort, but when he and her brother had stumbled into a mediwizard tent she was waiting. She had always assumed, when picturing the moment in her mind, that they would embrace and she would cry and he would kiss her. But at that moment, almost a year after they had ended their relationship, she could only laugh and cry, and laugh. She had hugged him tightly, but the romance and lust had ebbed away. For the first time, she felt whole, as thought she just didn't need Harry to make everything all right. In fact, *he* had needed her!
No, she had only wondered what he was up to, and that had distracted her from her potion. It wasn't just Harry, she wondered about Hermione and Ron. What was happening in the ministry? What had changed? Owl post wasn't secure enough for them to tell her in any detail. She felt excluded; she had become so accustomed to being "in the know" and now here she was, back in school and all she could be was a student. At times it was infuriating to be a child again. But mostly, Ginny was just lonely.
**
"I've had my fill of these children, Minerva." Severus said. He had been pacing the length of the headmistress' office for the past several minutes, and McGonnagal feared for her carpet.
"Severus."
"And spare me the lecture. They are not adults, however much they may fancy themselves grown. The level of magic they have yet to master! They have lost all respect for authority, and I blame the lax attitude you have taken--"
"You'll forgive me for interupting!" Minerva's face was tight with annoyance, "My position has been in no way a loose one. I agree with you, Professor Snape, that these students have much to learn. But they are children no more. You know this. They have all, each and every one, left the blissful ignorance of childhood. They have demonstrated poise, and courage. I am sorry, but it remains my opinion that we must keep in mind what their lives have been."
"You are saying we should let them disobey the orders of their teachers? Get away with insubordination and flagrant ignorance to the rules?"
"I am saying no such thing. Tea?" Minerva, now seated at her sidetable, offered the pot. Severus made a noise under his breath and waved it away. "Severus," she poured him a cup anyway "I know what you are facing, here. Many of them have yet to make peace with Dumbledore's death. They have yet to accept that you did not murder him in cold blood. Even if they could, they have seen many of their fellow students betray them, and as much as I hate to say it--most of those students who now reside in Azkaban were members of your house. Now, I do not condone any prejudice between houses. I will stamp out any conflicts that should arise. But the fact is, these are frightened and distrustful students and one can not expect things to be as they were before the blasted bloody war."
Severus took the tea, finally seated himself in one of the gold brocade wing chairs and sipped. He sighed, "I'll not be treated like a traitor any longer. I don't care what they have been through."
"Severus," Minerva's voice was soft when she said his name, and he knew he was in for one of her rare grandmotherly moments usually only bestowed on tearful students who were about to learn a lesson. "Just let Virginia Weasley serve her detention. If it is necessary, and I mean if it is deserved, send her to me for any further discipline. I know you have had past confrontations with her, and I am well aware of how vengeful you feel. Do not exact revenge on an eighteen year old girl, Severus. Are we clear?"
He nodded, drank his tea, and cursed under his breath.
2.
On the night of her detention, Ginny Weasley had about twenty feet of homework to do. Every single class has assigned a nice long essay, to be turned in by Thursday. Not only that, she had Quidditch practice up until the hour of her detention. Not only that, but the entire night before had been spent up late in the common room with Galina, playing exploding snap, then in the dormitory writing letters to her family, Harry and Hermione. She had hardly any sleep, a full day of classes, and since she knew she would have to catch up on homework she had missed lunch all together. Not only that, but there had been no reply to any of her letters. She had kept her eyes trained on the owls swooping into the Hall during breakfast, looking for one she recognized as Hedwig or Pig. Nothing but the Daily Prophet had been delivered to her lap that morning. Not receiving even the shortest of note from Harry did nothing for her mood.
She walked from the dormitory with Galina, going as slowly as possible and stopping to talk to students she barely knew, just to prolong the trudge down to the dungeons.
**
Severus checked the clock on his desk. It was not unlike an old fashioned muggle alarm clock: brass, round, two bells on top. It was also not unlike the clock in the Weasley home, with several hands, except his clock could have appointments assigned to the hands, and these appointments could be changed at his will. Two hands pointed to "Completed", one labeled "Drinks, Hogsmeade" pointed to "Saturday". The one labeled "Weasley Detention" was teetering towards "Late". He was grading parchments, tapping his foot, and growing more irritated the more the hand inched clockwise.
On his desk, by his right hand, a purple envelope rested. He glanced at it, wondered if he had time to open it before Weasley showed up. Severus wondered if he would ever open the cursed thing. Cursed, he thought. What an appropriate word. Murmurers were not cursed, however, they were charmed. Delivered in purple envelopes, murmurers were similar to howlers--made by the same company, in fact. Murmurers were spoken quietly, and were used for telling secrets, though of course not true secrets. They were used, mostly by teenage girls giggling through purple paper in hushed tones about their latest loves. He had seen, and forced back disgust over, first year students carrying these purple envelopes. He knew many mothers must send them, soothing messages for their children who were away from home for the first time.
Murmurers only came to Severus from his own mother, though these were not soothing notes. His mother resided at St. Mungo's, and had done since Severus was fourteen years old. She was mad, simply put, gone insane after being hit by Imperio one time too many. She sent murmurers to her son, ranting in a low and ragged voice, sometimes sobbing, other times begging. They were torturous, and he recieved one at least once a month. He picked up the murmurer, glancing at the clock. "Weasley Detention" was firmly resting at "Late"
He thought better of opening the murmurer just then, and luckily so because it was at that moment that Ginny Weasley came rushing through the door.
"You're late."
**
Ginny sighed, bit her tongue, and moved further into the room. "I apologize." She sounded forced even to her own ears.
"Tardiness to a detention deserves another, don't you think?" Snape tapped his fingers against his desk. Ginny opened her mouth to protest, but he was quick to cut her off. "Never mind, Weasley. I have no intention of subjecting myself to another evening spent in your company. Let's get down to business, shall we?"
"Yes." She said, then added "Sir."
It was as thought she simply couldn't help testing him. He stared her down but said nothing. Ginny counted her lucky stars and reminded herself to try and keep her tongue in check. Her eyes fell on the purple envelope beneath the fingers of Snape's hand. He noticed and quickly shoved it under some parchments. Clearing her throat, Ginny gestured to a table full of vials, beakers, jars, small cauldrons, and other potions tools. All were encrusted with old ingredients and discarded potions. "Am I to clean these?"
"Yes, Miss Weasley, you will spend your detention making certain that each and every piece is spic and span. These are my own private potions accessories and I have very high standards. You will stay until you are finished."
Ginny couldn't believe her good fortune. She approached the table, taking out her wand.
"No wand, Weasley." Snape called. The nasty tone in his voice made her teeth clench. Ginny turned to look back at him, but Snape was bent over the parchments, a red-inked quill making several marks.
She sighed and put away her wand. She saw a bucket of purple-tinted soapy water, a wash rag and a pipe cleaner. Muggle cleaning? Ginny new very well that Snape would never stoop to such levels (quite low in his opinion, she was sure) to clean the implements himself. She hated him just a bit more as she looked into a cualdron crusty with something that smelled like vomit and looked like mucus.
**
Weasley had been cleaning for about twenty minutes when Severus finished grading his parchments. He picked up the murmurer and tapped it against his palm for a moment.
"Weasley, continue working." He called over, "I'll be in my office. I will know if you have moved from that spot."
"Wouldn't dream of it." She said sarcastically, but without much bite.
"Five points for insolence."
Severus rose from his chair and turned to leave. "I am aware that you are making an obscene gesture, Weasley. Please spare me from wasting energy on deduction more points from your house."
The sound of something metal being fumbled and dropped made him smirk as he used his wand to unlock the wards which kept his office protected.
Once inside, he seated himself in a leather club chair--his favorite, with a mahogany table beside it. On the table a bottle of muggle brandy and one crystal tumbler rested, and Severus poured himself a drink. He sipped it, letting the warmth of the liquor spread through his chest. He flipped open the envelope, and a low female voice trickled into the air. His mother must have hunched over the royal purple paper, twitching madly, her hands shaking and lending the sound of moving paper to the message. She was a very, very elderly woman, reaching the age of eighty-seven this winter, and her voice was as dry as parchment.
"I know what you've done. I know, my boy. Traitor. Child ripped from my putrid loins, the pain I still feel the regret eating my intestines. My liver is rotting, Severus, and they won't give me my medicine."
Severus glanced at the glass held loosely in his fingers. An alcoholic, his mother was never the picture of sanity and composure even before Imperio. Deprived of the drink for over twenty years now, she still bitterly blamed him for the loss of her "medicine". Bottoms up, he thought and drained his glass.
"Forgiveness? Forgiveness? The bloody disgusting god damn cursed filthy...they took over our world! my world! And you, my traitorous offspring you spawn of useless man and broken woman. You let it happen you help the cockroaches to infest...the day I call you son is the day I cut off my withered left tit..."
Severus did not close the envelope. Howlers, when closed or left unread, would explode. Murmurers varied, depending on the content and the sender. Many young girls charmed them to fold into useless paper flowers. Murmurers for Roerva Snape festered and rotted. He would much rather listen to his mother's quiet, reedy rantings than smell the stink of rotting sewage overlaid with the antiseptic smell of her hospital room.
**
Of course Ginny stationed herself outside the door. He'll catch me at any minute, she thought. She strained to hear through the door. She could detect a woman's voice, certainly belonging to an old woman. The murmurer had thrown her off when she'd spotted it, and while cleaning test tubes and vials she had laughed to herself over the notion of Snape recieving the kind of murmurer Lavender Brown had once sent to Ginny, whispering "Well he says he likes you, but I don't know if he likes, likes you and oh, my god don't tell anyone but Dean said that Seamus told him that Neville's lab partner in Herbology heard from..." and so on.
When Snape had swept into her office she had ignored his warning, which she was sure had been an empty threat, she had sprung to his office door. She pressed her ear more firmly to the door. She could hear snippets of the voice. "bloody disgusting...my world!...infest...the day i call you son is the day i cut off my withered left tit." Startled, Ginny pulled away, looking at the wood grain of the door incredulously. Could that possibly be Snape's mother? But she sounded so very elderly. Snape was a few years younger than Ginny's own parents, making him no older than forty. His mother sounded at least ninety.
"You imprison...pathetic little...NO!"
The voice stopped. Ginny stood at the door, trying to hear more. She leaned against it a bit more and...
Fell inside when the door was open, landing directly at the feet of Severus Snape. He glowered down at her unspeaking and Ginny knew she had never seen him so furious.
"Get. Up." He commanded.
Ginny scrambled to her feet, feeling the blood drain from her face. "Professor, I--"
"Silence!" He growled. "Get out of my classroom."
"But my detention!"
"You shall serve another tomorrow evening when I have decided an appropriate punishment for eavesdropping on my..."
Ginny knew he was trying to decide what to say. Conversation? He knew she was well aware that he had been listening to a murmurer. She had never seen Snape scramble for words. She said, "Professor Snape I didn't hear anything. I mean I don't think I-- I apologize I..."
"Your apology means nothing." Snape said, his voice cold, his body rigid. "You are an arrogant, presumptuous, disobedient little girl and you have invaded my privacy after I explicitly instructed you to continue the task I assigned. I will speak to the Headmistress in order to determine your penalties for the last several days of violations."
Ginny felt the color return to her face, her cheeks reddening. The anger in her chest threatened to explode in a scream. She was truly sorry for listening in, she felt guilt over hearing something so personal. She was furious that she had been forced to feel sorry for Snape. She was furious at the prospect of serving yet more detention in this cursed dungeon.
"If you are wise you will bite your tongue." Snape said. He walked towards his office and spoke without turning around. "Get out. Expect to spend tomorrow evening serving detention."
Ginny hesitated for only a moment before fleeing the dungeon, letting the heavy door slam behind her.