Some Days I Wish I Were in Slytherin

Chapter 2: Swaying Over Snape

Severus Snape closed his mouth and peered at the slim redhead through his spread fingers, which were currently digging holes into his forehead just above his eyebrows. He had suddenly developed an extremely painful headache, and it felt as if that oaf Hagrid was hammering a gardening trowel into his skull without the benefit of a numbing potion.

He cleared his throat. "You can not be serious, Miss Weasley. Even if you were ..." His voice stuck on the word for a moment before it finally came out, "...capable of bringing off such a preposterous plan, there is absolutely no way that I, or your parents, or Headmaster Dumbledore would ever allow you to execute it. A young, innocent child such as you has no place -"

"But Professor," she interrupted, leaning forward in her chair, "that is exactly why I would be perfect for the job. No one would ever suspect the poor, innocent daughter of Arthur Weasley to be deceitful enough to pull off such a scheme. They would see me as someone to be controlled, who can be easily led, and not at all a threat to them or any of their plans."

"It is out of the question, Miss Weasley," Snape snapped. "You have the transparency of a water goblet and not an ounce of devious blood in your body. You would be discovered at once. Now, if you are through filling my head with this rubbish, would you kindly leave so your poor classmates will receive their marks sometime before the next school year?"

He looked down at the papers and began furiously marking Longbottom's pink exam paper with copious amounts of red ink; more than usual if that was possible. Eventually he reached the bottom of the pile, and as he turned over Crabbe's exam and circled the great red F at the bottom of the page, he looked up at the clock and gave a start upon seeing Ginny sitting patiently in the chair across from him. He sighed and rubbed his head again. Damn that girl.

"I thought I asked you to leave," he growled, narrowing his eyes and letting his voice drip with menace in the manner that normally sent students scrambling for safety. "Do I have to call your head of house and tell her of your clever scheme?"

She sat still for a moment, and then a small smile crossed her lips. "No professor, I'll leave you alone." She gave him a saucy look and practically skipped out of the room. He sent an incredulous look in the direction of the now empty doorway. What was wrong with these students? First, this morning a Slytherin seventh year had sent him an anonymous love letter, stupidly not realizing her professor for the past seven years would recognize her writing, and now this. Up until today he had always given the youngest Weasley a certain amount of credit for having more of a brain than those twins and Potter's shadow; now he knew she was as foolish and arrogant as the rest of them. He growled at the paper in front of him as he missed a wrong answer and had to recheck the paragraph. Why did these things always happen to him? He pushed the incident out of his mind and focused on the dull monotony of marking.

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Ginny rushed through breakfast the next morning and was headed out the door of the Great Hall when she ran into Ron and Hermione. Hermione still looked a little pale, but Ron was lifting his head to sniff the bacon wafting from giant platters on the table.

"I'm so happy to see you," said Ginny, giving them both gentle hugs, so as not to hurt the barely walking wounded. She sent them a mischievous glance and asked, "So, did you two have fun together all alone in the hospital wing?" She turned to Hermione. "Ron loved to play med wizard when he was a little boy. Didn't you Ronnikins?" She smiled at her brother and batted her eyelashes innocently.

Ron turned a curious shade of vermillion and choked for a moment. A tiny smile turned up the corners of Hermione's lips and Ginny widened her eyes. She looked between her brother and his friend and was about to speak when Ron interrupted her.

"So, Gin, did you already eat? Where are you headed off to so early in the morning?" He shot her a pleading glance.

"Oh, just off to hand an extra credit potions essay to Snape before he finishes grading exams," Ginny said. She winked at Hermione and stuck her tongue out at her brother when the older girl turned away, then waved cheerfully and headed for the dungeons.

Behind her, she could hear Hermione complaining in a loud voice to Ron. "How come I didn't know about the extra credit? My grade's only 233% and I really could have used some extra points. This is what I get for being in the hospital wing." The bushy haired girl's strident voice faded into the distance as Ginny padded down the stone steps to the potions lab.

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When Severus Snape entered his potions laboratory shortly before noon, he stopped short, turned around, and walked back out again. He regained his bearings in the corridor and shook his head. Impossible, it must have been the wrong room. He checked the sign over the door just to be sure, but no, clearly stated in large black letters were the words - POTIONS CLASSROOM ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK - surrounded by cute little butterflies, daisies, and the nicest little French curve worked in pink.

"What the ...?" The words exploded from his mouth, and he drew his lips into a tight line as he stormed through the door. Whoever was responsible for this would pay dearly. He looked furiously around him, and his shoulders sank as all the fight went out of him. "Oh, bloody hell ..." he whispered, taking in the damage.

Warm sunlight bathed the room through large, airy skylight charms on the ceiling. The flagstones gleamed white and shone, not a speck of dirt on them. The scarred and aged wooden benches in front of the work tables had been polished to their original rich lustrous sheen and were fitted with soft, deep, red padded seats and multicolored pillows. And worst of all, the floating heads in jars behind his desk; gone, all gone, replaced with flowers in vases and ... antique teapots! His felt horror struck as he took in every polished, scrubbed, neat as a pin corner of his ... He swallowed a lump in his throat, he couldn't even say dungeon anymore. He looked up as the sight of a moving wand penetrated his vision and pounced.

"Miss Weasley, I suppose you are responsible for this?" He wanted to choke her. Wrap his hands around her skinny white neck and strangle her as he beat her head into the flagstones. How dare she invade is private space and alter it with these ... perversions.

He scowled, his mouth twisted in rage, but she only smiled sweetly at him from the blackboard, on which she had just placed a tricky little charm that constantly scrolled different quotes from Gilderoy Lockhart's collected works. It was currently reading 'There's nothing as wonderful as me.' Is the daily affirmation I always employ before taking on difficult tasks - such as my morning Pilates!' He dug his fingernails into his hands and resisted the urge to hurt her.

"You don't like it Professor?" she asked. Her brown eyes were wide and innocent, but there was a nasty little gleam deep within them that seemed to show pleasure at having provoked him. He felt a similar pleasurable feeling at the thought of her punishment.

"Miss Weasley, you are a nasty, underhanded, evil little witch. I assure you that you will be severely punished for this." He closed his eyes to shut out the sight and stopped speaking at the thought of his dungeon in this state. Not even Lord Voldemort could have done something this low, this despicable. He opened his eyes and smiled viciously at the girl. "I'll go to Dumbledore for this," he said. "I'll see you expelled."

"Oh yes." She smiled at him, her words dripping honey. "He stopped by earlier looking for you and seemed exceedingly pleased that you were redecorating. He was the one who suggested the rejoicing doves." She snapped her fingers, and a pair of pink doves in a silver cage he hadn't noticed before immediately broke into a chorus of 'Let a little sunshine in'.

The world seemed to spin for a moment after that, and he had the strange sensation that this must be some kind of nightmare. What was wrong with the girl? He sank down disbelievingly onto his teacher's stool, which had been transformed into a purple velvet recliner. She gave him a radiant look and sat down across from him.

"Now, what were you saying last night about me not being devious enough?"

That evening after dinner, the potions dungeon having been restored to its prior gloom and grime earlier in the day, Snape went up to the owlery, a note clenched tightly in one hand. As he passed a group of Slytherin fourth years he heard one of them asking another in a horrified voice.

"Has the plaque on the door of Snape's classroom always had flowers on it?"

"Ten points from Slytherin," he said. He scowled at them and simultaneously transfigured one of their familiars into a pocket watch. "Maybe you can use this to try to be in bed by curfew!" he roared. They squeaked and ran past him out of sight.

Suits of armor backed out of his way as he fumed up the steps. He couldn't believe what he was about to do, but somehow he had the strangest feeling about the Weasley girl; there was something almost ... Slytherin about what she had done today. The sheer genius of knowing exactly what would disturb him the most, not to mention braving his wrath to follow it through had taken cunning and a lot of nerve. No matter how disturbing the visual images which were still burned on his retinas, he had to give grudging credit to a truly evil plot when he saw one.

He thought back on their conversation. He had agreed to provide her with training and training only. First he had to see if she had the skills, not to mention the will to endure. For it was preposterous, of course, to think she could actually survive at the level where she was now. She was a bright enough student, not a Granger perhaps, or even a Malfoy for that matter. However, she was usually above adequate in his class, along with most of her others, and she had constantly received O grades in Charms. There was a lot you could do with charms; he could teach her the more ... unusual uses. A brief wolf-like smile of anticipation crossed his lips at the thought of some of them. She would also need extensive tutelage in occulumency, the dark arts, and other not so pleasant things if she even wanted to stand a chance against ... He shuddered and closed his eyes. No, he would think about that later.

He'd had to go to Dumbledore to get permission. Of course he hadn't told him the whole truth, but somehow he thought the old man knew anyway. He had just smiled a little sadly and given his consent. And of course there was the issue of Arthur and Molly. They would kill him if they thought he was putting their little girl in danger. This was why he had agreed to train her only. If she was successful, he would speak to Dumbledore about whether or not to tell her parents before going any further. That had been their agreement. That, and also that she could tell no one. Trust no one from now on.

The musty odor of owl reached his sensitive nose, and he ducked his head to get into the owlery, treading without wincing on the skeletons of the inhabitant's previous meals. His eagle owl, Hemlock, came swooping down and landed on his arm. "Take this to the Burrow," he said, tying a letter bearing the Hogwarts seal to the bird's leg. He gently stroked the soft feathers on the owl's keel. The owl cocked its head, hooted reassuringly, and took off in a flurry of brown and gray wings, swooping out the window and into the night.

Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley

The Kitchen Table

The Burrow

Ottery St. Catchpole, England

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,

As you may know, there is an International Wizard's Consortium this summer from July 14th-August 25th in Beijing, China. The consortium has kindly allowed the selection of one student intern from Hogwarts to accompany me for the duration of the trip. Although there were many applicants, the essay contest had one clear winner, and it is with great pleasure that I and Professor Dumbledore inform you that your daughter Virginia has been selected for this honor. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to travel to a foreign land, to make contacts with other wizards in the international community, and attend classes which will further her wizarding education. I certainly hope you will allow Virginia to attend. A full scholarship has been provided by the Madame Skower's All Purpose Magical Mess Remover Corporation. Congratulations once again on this great honor.

Sincerely,

Severus Snape, Potions Master

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry