A Certain Amount of Sense

Chapter 18

September 16, 1996

Dear Diary,

Probably the most bizarre thing ever happened to me to me today. Severus Snape, of all people, sought me out to talk to me. Severus, who has never once, in the fifteen years he has taught here, spoken to me unless he absolutely had to. I use to think it was because of the subject I taught, since he, being the Head of Slytherin, would be expected to scorn Muggle Studies. But after speaking with some of my other colleagues, I realized that there was no one else he ever talked to if he could help it. Muggles would not doubt call him anti-social.

But I digress. This is what happened: after the staff meeting this morning, Severus approached me and asked if he could speak to me. In my bewilderment, I looked to the other teachers in to see if any of them had a clue as to why he was suddenly talking to me. All I saw were the same looks of surprise and a few shrugs. I managed to stutter a reply in the affirmative and he suggested that we go to my office. I didn’t think he knew I even had an office.

Once there, he did not immediately take the seat I offered him, but roamed around the room, inspecting all the Muggle paraphernalia I had collected over the years. Usually, I happily offer to explain what the more puzzling objects are to any of the other professors that come by, but I must confess, I was too intimidated by him to volunteer any information. Not that he would have asked.

Of course, it turns out that I was wrong on that account, for when he finally did sit down and after I had offered him tea and we had dispensed with the usual small talk, this is what he said (it was so shocking, I have remembered it word for word, and need to write it down for fear I will wake up tomorrow and think it all a dream):

“It has come to my attention that I am somewhat...lacking in my knowledge of Muggle vocabulary, and I wondering if you would be so kind as to tell me, what exactly is a ‘movie’?”

I’m sure you can understand why I almost spat my tea out in surprise. Why would he want to know about movies? As curious as I was, he did not offer the information, and I felt that if I had asked him, I would have lost whatever degree of respect the man might have had for me (although I probably already lost that when the tea went up my nose, and I was reduced to coughing uncontrollably for a few moments until I could breath properly again).

So I tried to explain to him as best I could what a movie was. The best description I could come up with was a full-length play that was captured on film like one of our magical photographs. Except that the images would be projected onto a much larger screen so that a large audience could pay to sit down and watch the play. He started muttering something about Pensieves while I was speaking. I swear, that man must have inhaled too many fumes while brewing his potions. And then, as if the situation could get any stranger, when I mentioned that many Muggles liked to go to the cinemas on “dates”, all of a sudden he was the one choking on his tea. I cannot for the life of me imagine why. As if anyone would ever ask that old bat out on a date.

Finally, I lent him my copy of The Wizard’s Guide to Movies, just to get him out of my office. He was really beginning to creep me out. Next thing you know, Gilderoy will be back from St. Mungo’s with his memory fully restored and declare his undying love for me.