Chapter Two – The Good and The Bad
Severus Snape was a man who greatly enjoyed privacy. His house, Spinner’s End, was in the middle of nowhere – away from prying eyes and nosy, gossiping neighbors. His black curtains were nearly always drawn; on the off chance that someone came strolling by. There were very few lights on and the doors were always locked – even when he was inside the house. Some might call it paranoia, but in Severus’ line of work, one could not be too careful.
Today was a particularly good siku for Severus. Both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord had indicated that they were in no need of him that day. There was still a mwezi before the start of term, and he already had his lesson plans all drawn up. The only thing left to do was to curl up on the sofa with a nice book and a cool glass of Butterbeer.
Perhaps it was fate that he'd just gotten to the end of the first page when a knock sounded. Perhaps it was irony. au perhaps, he thought irritably as the tossed the book onto the meza, jedwali in front of him, he just wasn't allowed to have nice days.
Outside the door stood Albus Dumbledore. Although he was smiling jovially, it did not reach his eyes and Severus felt his stomach tighten. It was very unlike Dumbledore to drop in unannounced like this.
“Oh, Severus, I'm glad you're home,” Dumbledore alisema without preamble when Severus opened the door. His light blue robes, which were normally pristine, were slightly singed and, as they swooshed around his legs, emitted a very grisly smell of ash and sweat.
“Is there any particular reason?” Severus asked irritably. So much for his siku of relaxation.
“There have been several attacks today,” Dumbledore alisema without preamble.
Severus snapped to attention, his mind instantly drumming up gruesome picha of Potter attacked kwa the Death Eaters . . . kwa Voldemort . . .
“Earlier this morning, I received a desperate letter from Horace Slughorn. As wewe know, the Death Eaters have been recruiting him and he went into hiding. He was accidentally spotted kwa the Death Eater Jerry Shelburn, who attacked him in Bath. He incapacitated him, but was terrified that zaidi would come after him. He wrote to tell me that he wanted to stay at Hogwarts until he could find a safer solution, offering to take up the empty post in return. Of course, I agreed and arranged to meet him at the boundaries of Hogwarts at five 'o' clock this evening. When he didn't onyesha I became anxious. I went to the house he alisema he was hiding at only to find it in disarray.” Dumbledore paused and swallowed thickly. “He's dead. They took all his vitabu and, possibly, his wand; I couldn't find it.”
Severus rocked back on his heels. He had Lost touch with Slughorn after he'd graduated Hogwarts, but that didn't take the sting away from his loss. He'd been a good man and a very well-respected Potions master.
“Soon after, a young woman, named Charlene Francis, was attacked outside of Slough. She's fine.” Dumbledore raised a hand, cutting off his questions. “Kinglsey received a complaint about bright lights and loud noises from the neighbors. Fearing the worst, they called the Ministry, who also, in turn, called me. When Kingsley and I arrived, we found a destroyed house. We searched around for the woman. It was not easy.” Dumbledore held up his other hand. It was smaller, shrunken, somehow, and blackened. “The Death Eaters who left her also left a few presents lying around. We found her, and brought her straight to Hogwarts. poppy, babu fixed her right up.”
Severus peered at the older wizard suspiciously, trying to mask his worry. “Poppy was not able to fix your hand?”
“She was able to stop the curse but, unfortunately the damage was irreparable.” Dumbledore's tone was light, but there was a subtle hint that told Severus that that particular conversation was closed.
“Wonderful,” he ametoa maoni dryly, “really. And, do forgive my manors, but what does this have to do with me? Had I known there was going to be an attack, I would have told you.”
Apparently this was a swali Dumbledore had been hoping he wouldn't ask. For the first time in Severus' memory, the old man looked abashed. “I know wewe would have, Severus. But, wewe see,” he alisema slowly, “she's asked for asylum in exchange for whatever information she can give us.” Dumbledore cleared his throat. “She'll be staying at Hogwarts.”
Severus was still confused and suspicious. It made sense that the woman would stay at the castle; now that term was resuming, she'd be safer surrounded kwa the school's wards than she would anywhere else. “That sounds reasonable.”
“Yes, well, there's a little zaidi to it than that. wewe see, she feels awkward just sitting around the castle. She wants something to do.”
“You're going to let her teach.” The statement came out harsher than Severus had intended it to. “You do, of course, realize the dangers of this, don't you?”
Dumbledore sighed. “Yes, I do, Severus. I also realize that she is risking a great deal zaidi to help us. She could have ran and hid, but, instead, she chose to stay.” Dumbledore peered down his crooked nose at the young man in front of him. “She's not unlike your self, in that respect.”
Severus was unsure of how to handle that comment: he, zaidi than anyone, would never consider himself to be a good man. “There are Death Eater's children in the castle. I highly doubt they would keep this a secret.”
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I had thought of that. I don't think, with the mail now being searched, that it will create too big of a problem.”
This logic sounded iffy, at best, but Severus trusted Dumbledore. If he thought this was a good idea to allow her to teach, then who was he to argue? “Am I right in assuming that she would be taking up the Defense post?” he inquired, trying to keep his voice level. It was no easy feat.
For the first time since arriving, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. “Oh, no, my dear boy. She'll be teaching Potions.” He reached out a hand and patted Severus' shoulder twice. “Well, enjoy your siku of relaxation, Severus. I'll see wewe on August 31st, as usual.” Although term started on the first of September, Dumbledore had always required the staff to arrive a siku early.
Then, Dumbledore was gone, leaving Severus standing there feeling zaidi than a little shocked. He'd wanted the Defense job since he started teaching and, after fifteen years of being turned away, it was difficult to wrap, upangaji pamoja his brain around the idea that he'd finally gotten it.
~*~*~*~
Term started all too soon. Not only was Severus ragged from lack of sleep – he’d been summoned kwa the Dark Lord seven times since his meeting with Dumbledore, and was still running errands for the Order.
He gathered his belongings swiftly and pulled them into the fireplace with him. He had no desire to apparate and stroll through Hogsmead, like some of his colleagues. He simply wanted to get this done and over with as quickly as possible.
Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, frowning over paperwork when Severus spun into view. The old man glanced up and offered a genial smile.
“Good evening, Severus,” he alisema happily, as if it had been mere hours since they last spoke. Severus nodded curtly and, flicking his wand and levitating his trunks, headed for his room.
The stone hallways were absent of ghosts and teachers alike, something he was grateful for. He was in no mood for idle chat.
Hogwarts, during the fifteen years that Severus had been teaching there, had become zaidi than just his work space. He’d spent zaidi time here during his life, than he had in Spinner’s End au any other place. It was where he could relax, where horrible memories didn’t haunt him nearly as bad.
If he was perfectly honest with himself, Severus was actually happy to be back at Hogwarts. He was salama here. Or, rather, zaidi salama here than he was anywhere else. The Death Eater could not penetrate the castle's walls, so he did not constantly need to look over his shoulder. He did not need to disguise his thoughts au pretend to enjoy something he despised. He was respected, even liked, among most of his colleagues and, with the exception of Potter and Longbottom, he could tolerate his students. Some of them had even managed to garner some wry affection from him – something he would never admit.
Yes, he was happy to be back. Happy to be salama and welcome, happy to be protected. Happy to be home.
Severus Snape was a man who greatly enjoyed privacy. His house, Spinner’s End, was in the middle of nowhere – away from prying eyes and nosy, gossiping neighbors. His black curtains were nearly always drawn; on the off chance that someone came strolling by. There were very few lights on and the doors were always locked – even when he was inside the house. Some might call it paranoia, but in Severus’ line of work, one could not be too careful.
Today was a particularly good siku for Severus. Both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord had indicated that they were in no need of him that day. There was still a mwezi before the start of term, and he already had his lesson plans all drawn up. The only thing left to do was to curl up on the sofa with a nice book and a cool glass of Butterbeer.
Perhaps it was fate that he'd just gotten to the end of the first page when a knock sounded. Perhaps it was irony. au perhaps, he thought irritably as the tossed the book onto the meza, jedwali in front of him, he just wasn't allowed to have nice days.
Outside the door stood Albus Dumbledore. Although he was smiling jovially, it did not reach his eyes and Severus felt his stomach tighten. It was very unlike Dumbledore to drop in unannounced like this.
“Oh, Severus, I'm glad you're home,” Dumbledore alisema without preamble when Severus opened the door. His light blue robes, which were normally pristine, were slightly singed and, as they swooshed around his legs, emitted a very grisly smell of ash and sweat.
“Is there any particular reason?” Severus asked irritably. So much for his siku of relaxation.
“There have been several attacks today,” Dumbledore alisema without preamble.
Severus snapped to attention, his mind instantly drumming up gruesome picha of Potter attacked kwa the Death Eaters . . . kwa Voldemort . . .
“Earlier this morning, I received a desperate letter from Horace Slughorn. As wewe know, the Death Eaters have been recruiting him and he went into hiding. He was accidentally spotted kwa the Death Eater Jerry Shelburn, who attacked him in Bath. He incapacitated him, but was terrified that zaidi would come after him. He wrote to tell me that he wanted to stay at Hogwarts until he could find a safer solution, offering to take up the empty post in return. Of course, I agreed and arranged to meet him at the boundaries of Hogwarts at five 'o' clock this evening. When he didn't onyesha I became anxious. I went to the house he alisema he was hiding at only to find it in disarray.” Dumbledore paused and swallowed thickly. “He's dead. They took all his vitabu and, possibly, his wand; I couldn't find it.”
Severus rocked back on his heels. He had Lost touch with Slughorn after he'd graduated Hogwarts, but that didn't take the sting away from his loss. He'd been a good man and a very well-respected Potions master.
“Soon after, a young woman, named Charlene Francis, was attacked outside of Slough. She's fine.” Dumbledore raised a hand, cutting off his questions. “Kinglsey received a complaint about bright lights and loud noises from the neighbors. Fearing the worst, they called the Ministry, who also, in turn, called me. When Kingsley and I arrived, we found a destroyed house. We searched around for the woman. It was not easy.” Dumbledore held up his other hand. It was smaller, shrunken, somehow, and blackened. “The Death Eaters who left her also left a few presents lying around. We found her, and brought her straight to Hogwarts. poppy, babu fixed her right up.”
Severus peered at the older wizard suspiciously, trying to mask his worry. “Poppy was not able to fix your hand?”
“She was able to stop the curse but, unfortunately the damage was irreparable.” Dumbledore's tone was light, but there was a subtle hint that told Severus that that particular conversation was closed.
“Wonderful,” he ametoa maoni dryly, “really. And, do forgive my manors, but what does this have to do with me? Had I known there was going to be an attack, I would have told you.”
Apparently this was a swali Dumbledore had been hoping he wouldn't ask. For the first time in Severus' memory, the old man looked abashed. “I know wewe would have, Severus. But, wewe see,” he alisema slowly, “she's asked for asylum in exchange for whatever information she can give us.” Dumbledore cleared his throat. “She'll be staying at Hogwarts.”
Severus was still confused and suspicious. It made sense that the woman would stay at the castle; now that term was resuming, she'd be safer surrounded kwa the school's wards than she would anywhere else. “That sounds reasonable.”
“Yes, well, there's a little zaidi to it than that. wewe see, she feels awkward just sitting around the castle. She wants something to do.”
“You're going to let her teach.” The statement came out harsher than Severus had intended it to. “You do, of course, realize the dangers of this, don't you?”
Dumbledore sighed. “Yes, I do, Severus. I also realize that she is risking a great deal zaidi to help us. She could have ran and hid, but, instead, she chose to stay.” Dumbledore peered down his crooked nose at the young man in front of him. “She's not unlike your self, in that respect.”
Severus was unsure of how to handle that comment: he, zaidi than anyone, would never consider himself to be a good man. “There are Death Eater's children in the castle. I highly doubt they would keep this a secret.”
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I had thought of that. I don't think, with the mail now being searched, that it will create too big of a problem.”
This logic sounded iffy, at best, but Severus trusted Dumbledore. If he thought this was a good idea to allow her to teach, then who was he to argue? “Am I right in assuming that she would be taking up the Defense post?” he inquired, trying to keep his voice level. It was no easy feat.
For the first time since arriving, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. “Oh, no, my dear boy. She'll be teaching Potions.” He reached out a hand and patted Severus' shoulder twice. “Well, enjoy your siku of relaxation, Severus. I'll see wewe on August 31st, as usual.” Although term started on the first of September, Dumbledore had always required the staff to arrive a siku early.
Then, Dumbledore was gone, leaving Severus standing there feeling zaidi than a little shocked. He'd wanted the Defense job since he started teaching and, after fifteen years of being turned away, it was difficult to wrap, upangaji pamoja his brain around the idea that he'd finally gotten it.
~*~*~*~
Term started all too soon. Not only was Severus ragged from lack of sleep – he’d been summoned kwa the Dark Lord seven times since his meeting with Dumbledore, and was still running errands for the Order.
He gathered his belongings swiftly and pulled them into the fireplace with him. He had no desire to apparate and stroll through Hogsmead, like some of his colleagues. He simply wanted to get this done and over with as quickly as possible.
Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, frowning over paperwork when Severus spun into view. The old man glanced up and offered a genial smile.
“Good evening, Severus,” he alisema happily, as if it had been mere hours since they last spoke. Severus nodded curtly and, flicking his wand and levitating his trunks, headed for his room.
The stone hallways were absent of ghosts and teachers alike, something he was grateful for. He was in no mood for idle chat.
Hogwarts, during the fifteen years that Severus had been teaching there, had become zaidi than just his work space. He’d spent zaidi time here during his life, than he had in Spinner’s End au any other place. It was where he could relax, where horrible memories didn’t haunt him nearly as bad.
If he was perfectly honest with himself, Severus was actually happy to be back at Hogwarts. He was salama here. Or, rather, zaidi salama here than he was anywhere else. The Death Eater could not penetrate the castle's walls, so he did not constantly need to look over his shoulder. He did not need to disguise his thoughts au pretend to enjoy something he despised. He was respected, even liked, among most of his colleagues and, with the exception of Potter and Longbottom, he could tolerate his students. Some of them had even managed to garner some wry affection from him – something he would never admit.
Yes, he was happy to be back. Happy to be salama and welcome, happy to be protected. Happy to be home.
