Summer School

Chapter 2 Simple Questions

A few days later, Snape had had more time to digest the idea of his going as a spy into the Muggle world. Alone in his dungeon quarters, he felt an unaccustomed sense of anxiety when he had begun thinking of what the assignment would entail. He had never spent any longer than necessary in non-magical surroundings.

Usually, he was in the guise of Death Eater, and part of one of Voldemort's Muggle torture parties. Behind his mask, he could be detached from what was happening as he carefully shielded his feelings of disgust and revulsion from Voldemort and his followers. As a Potions Master, he had managed to convince Voldemort that his hands must remain free of Muggle contamination of any kind. This enabled him to avoid active participation in the despicable acts of the Death Eaters, but he had to maintain a presence, and an attitude of disappointment that he was unable to take part in the atrocities.

His abilities at Occlumency were honed to the highest level, the better to deceive Voldemort concerning his true feelings. Now, despite his abilities in acting this role, he found himself in a state of near panic. It would be completely different than anything he had ever encountered. It would require him to be an active participant in Muggle ways of life. The feelings of panic caused him even greater anger, as he dealt with what he considered to be personal weakness. To even consider that he would be weak in the Muggle world made him want to lash out and roar his furious denial of such a ridiculous concept. He was never weak. He was an excellent strategist and he was without exception a cold and heartless man. His roles demanded it. This was a foolish and worthless endeavour. He strode back up to Dumbledore's office to confront him and force him to forget that Snape should even be considered for this job.

Snape glared at Albus. "You are insane if you think I will do this. The attempt will only cause unmitigated problems. It's...it's unnecessary. We can learn what we need from books..."

Albus held up a hand. "Severus, books alone cannot teach what we must learn. You, more than any other, must realize that theory without practical application is a job half done." He stopped then, waiting to see if the Potions Master would argue the point.

Snape turned away, the tension in his shoulders evident, his hands clenched into fists. He fought for a calm voice. He knew that if he hoped to win this argument he would have to outwit a master. Where the devil was his strategist's mind now? Even as he thought it, he knew he had lost.

"Albus, I do believe you have managed to outmanoeuvre me ... but be advised- I do not plan to do this docilely. As much as the Muggle-born students may need an orientation to our world, I cannot yet agree that this is the way to go about it." His head was beginning to pound. With one hand, he rubbed at an aching temple. "Surely, if we apply ourselves to the problem, we might find a better solution ... or think of someone else who could do this better."

The Headmaster still had a twinkle in his eye when Snape turned to face him again. "If I were you, Severus, I would consider speaking with Mr. Potter and Miss Granger. They could provide valuable insight."

Snape's eyes widened. "That's it! We can simply talk to the Muggle-borns themselves and put together the curriculum. No need to place ourselves in jeopardy by going into full spy mode." He grasped at the chance to escape the Headmasters plan.

"Severus, my boy," Albus was gently shaking his head, "I do urge you to think more on this. I believe that you will reach the same conclusion I have, if you are honest with yourself. The Muggle-borns are in such a shock at the differences we impose upon them here that they would not be able to give us any truly useful information. We need to have a wizard explore their world with a more objective eye. That wizard must have an excellent sense of detail. That wizard must be able to think quickly on their feet and adjust to changing circumstances in an instant. He should be able to see past the obvious and discern things that may be unspoken."

Sighing heavily, Snape nodded. Dumbledore had neatly worded a job description that only Snape could wholly fill. Without another word, he turned and walked out the door. This time, his steps were not so hurried. This time, his mind was not on his incompetent students, but on the possibility of an assignment that was so far out of his own experience, he could not yet fathom it. His gut churned and he thought that he might rather be back attending Death Eater meetings than planning to enter a world he had never set foot in, except in passing. He found himself back in his dungeon quarters without realizing how he had even gotten there.[Author ID0: at ]

[Author ID1: at Sun Sep 24 08:11:00 2006 ]

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Monday morning (double potions) was worse than the usual gruelling session. Snape was, if possible, more alarmingly overbearing and intolerant of the slightest infraction. Even the Slytherins became subdued when his wrath extended to them in equal share with the Gryffindors. By the end of the class, students were fighting to control their trembling enough to finish cleaning up without attracting further attention from Snape. Five minutes before the proper dismissal, he suddenly roared at them all, "Get out! And see that when you do return you are adequately prepared to brew this potion again, without hesitation, without flaw, without mishap, or your houses will suffer point losses the likes of which you have never seen!"

Students scurried to obey. Before they could actually walk (most just ran) out the door, Snape's voice growled, "Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, you will stay."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and at Ron. Hermione looked like she was desperately trying to think of what she could have done to earn a detention. Harry and Ron just looked resigned. When the other students had gone, Snape purred, "Mr. Weasley, I do not recall asking you to stay, but if you must join your little band in every miscalculated misadventure, you may." Ron quickly made his way to the door, but was stopped when Snape continued, "Never mind, Mr. [Author ID1: at Sun Sep 24 08:02:00 2006 ]Weasley. You might as well remain. There is nothing I will say that you will not know within minutes after these two leave the room anyway."

The three looked questioningly at each other again. Snape had never acknowledged that the three of them shared any and all information they had with each other. Of course, it wasn't any secret either. As they started to sit down, Snape beckoned them with a crooked finger. "My office, if you will."

Now Hermione looked positively alarmed, never having been in enough trouble to be called into the actual office of the Potions Master. Harry and Ron just shrugged as they followed Snape into the smaller room. Once inside, Snape pointed his wand at the door, murmuring. Hermione whimpered. "Cease your snivelling, Miss Granger." He looked at Harry as he said this, silently challenging him to ignore the word 'snivelling', knowing he had heard it before during one of their more disastrous Occlumency lessons. When Harry just gave him a slight nod, Snape continued. "I have no reprimands for you ... this time. I am merely casting a Silencing Charm . I am certain there are those who would love to know exactly what the three of you are in trouble for. I choose to deny them that opportunity. Sit. We have much to discuss."

"But Professor, we have Charms in a few minutes..." Hermione spoke quickly.

"Professor Flitwick is aware that you will be detained, Miss Granger. Your performance in his class allows him to be persuaded that you will not fall behind easily." He sat down behind his desk and rested his tightly clenched hands atop it as he stared at them for a long moment.

Not daring to look at each other, the three sat down in chairs positioned in front of Snape's desk. He continued to look at them thoughtfully for another few minutes. When they began to fidget nervously, he broke the silence again. "Do you consider yourselves to be representative of the typical teenager?"

Three mouths dropped open. If there was anything they might have expected Snape to ask them, this was certainly not it.

When there was no response to his question, Snape rolled his eyes and leaned towards them. "Do I need to rephrase the question? Or is the question that difficult? Are you or are you not typical teenagers?" He could feel a vein throbbing in his temple ... the beginning of yet another headache. He was searching their faces intently, as if the answer to his question would appear if he just looked hard enough.

Hermione swallowed and said, "Perhaps if we knew why you are asking, Professor ... I mean, 'typical' in what way?"

"In any way, Miss Granger. For example, do all teenagers have this need to belabour or argue simple questions?" Snape was peering at her closely.

Hermione looked at Harry and Ron for help. They were still sitting with their mouths open. Snape finally sighed loudly in exasperation. "Miss Granger, I have never known you to be so utterly at a loss for words. Any other time you would feel compelled to spew twice as much information than necessary when asked such a simple question."

Hermione's mouth snapped shut. "I do not spew..."

Harry interrupted, "But that's just it, Professor. It's not a simple question. We think we are normal, but every day you say we're stupid-"

"I have never called you stupid, Potter," Snape sneered.

"Oh, right. Just brainless, incapable, deficient in grey matter, dismal, inept-" Harry began naming off adjectives that Snape commonly used when correcting their Potions essays, as well as occasionally out loud during particularly difficult classes.

"Potter, that is hardly the same as calling you stupid." Snape stood up and his robes billowed as he crossed the room to walk behind them. They swivelled their heads to keep him in sight as he paced.

Hermione tried again, her voice hesitant and low, "Actually, sir, when you say those things, it does make us feel like you think we're stupid."

Snape growled deep in his throat. The three friends looked at each other, desperately wondering what the right answer was. Their silence was broken when Ron cleared his throat. Snape stopped his pacing and looked at him expectantly. Ron stuttered, "W-well, sir, my mum is always saying we're typical. D-d-does that count?"

Snape looked at him. He opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again. Turning away from them, he said quietly, "Just go on to your class."

They slowly got to their feet. Hermione stepped towards him. "We are trying to answer your question, sir. It's just that the answer depends on the context in which you are asking it. What is typical for one of us is not typical for another. You know how different Gryffindors and Slytherins are..."

"I understand, Miss Granger. I have asked a seemingly simple question, when there is no such thing." He glanced over his shoulder at them and motioned with his head. "Just go."

They left quietly, and the office door shut of its own accord once they were through it. They had walked a few steps away when they heard a loud 'thump', and the door shook on its hinges, as if something very angry and heavy had slammed into it on the other side. Without a word, they walked even faster and fled the classroom.