Happy New Year!
That Boy. Doing his job. It was unthinkable.
Horace was brimming with emotion on his first day back at Hogwarts. Delight at the chance to relive so many happy memories from days gone by, in the hallowed halls of the old school. Pride that Albus still needed him after all these years. Trepidation that the children of today were not how they used to be, with all these new-fangled ideas, values and slang terminology he had no idea how to interpret. He had been ready for all of these before his arrival, and was pleased to discover that he was coping well with the actual situation.
One thing he had not reckoned with was the thought of That Boy, grown up now and taller than his former professor, but still stalking, swooping, sneering and scowling like the gangly teenager he had been, in charge of Slytherin house. Horace’s house.
He popped a sweet chunk of pineapple into his mouth and frowned in the privacy of his office. He would have to have a little talk with That Boy. Soon.
…….
That Man. Doing his job. It was unthinkable.
Severus had been dumbstruck when Albus cheerfully revealed the identity of his replacement. He had initially been pleased to have another Slytherin teacher on the staff, then alarming memories had surfaced about the old working methods. Big wheels were turning outside the protective walls of the castle and Severus was too busy trying to stay alive long enough to make some lesson plans for his new job to worry about him.
Then came September, and the Slug was back in all his jovial, prejudiced, hero-worshipping glory, rolling around the school as though he had never left, pinching Minerva’s bottom and wondering loudly why the ‘kiddies’ seemed so scared as they sat silently in the potions lab before lessons. Gryffindor-Slytherin hostility was at an all-time high and Severus dreaded the results of the tension exploding in the vicinity of so many volatile substances. The wretched Boy-Who-Lived lived at Hogwarts now, sharing classes and meals with the offspring of some of the most lethal Death Eaters in the country. There were grave responsibilities shared by all members of staff, whether one liked it or not. Teaching was no longer the jolly old game it had been in Slughorn’s day.
He meticulously straightened his many layers of clothing and narrowed his eyes at his reflection in the looking-glass. He would have to have a little talk with That Man. Soon.
…….
Part Two
Horace was brimming with emotion on his first day back at Hogwarts. Delight at the chance to relive so many happy memories from days gone by, in the hallowed halls of the old school. Pride that Albus still needed him after all these years. Trepidation that the children of today were not how they used to be, with all these new-fangled ideas, values and slang terminology he had no idea how to interpret. He had been ready for all of these before his arrival, and was pleased to discover that he was coping well with the actual situation.
One thing he had not reckoned with was the thought of That Boy, grown up now and taller than his former professor, but still stalking, swooping, sneering and scowling like the gangly teenager he had been, in charge of Slytherin house. Horace’s house.
He popped a sweet chunk of pineapple into his mouth and frowned in the privacy of his office. He would have to have a little talk with That Boy. Soon.
…….
That Man. Doing his job. It was unthinkable.
Severus had been dumbstruck when Albus cheerfully revealed the identity of his replacement. He had initially been pleased to have another Slytherin teacher on the staff, then alarming memories had surfaced about the old working methods. Big wheels were turning outside the protective walls of the castle and Severus was too busy trying to stay alive long enough to make some lesson plans for his new job to worry about him.
Then came September, and the Slug was back in all his jovial, prejudiced, hero-worshipping glory, rolling around the school as though he had never left, pinching Minerva’s bottom and wondering loudly why the ‘kiddies’ seemed so scared as they sat silently in the potions lab before lessons. Gryffindor-Slytherin hostility was at an all-time high and Severus dreaded the results of the tension exploding in the vicinity of so many volatile substances. The wretched Boy-Who-Lived lived at Hogwarts now, sharing classes and meals with the offspring of some of the most lethal Death Eaters in the country. There were grave responsibilities shared by all members of staff, whether one liked it or not. Teaching was no longer the jolly old game it had been in Slughorn’s day.
He meticulously straightened his many layers of clothing and narrowed his eyes at his reflection in the looking-glass. He would have to have a little talk with That Man. Soon.
…….
Part Two