Hogwarts Online

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DISCLAIMER: i own nothing; standard disclaimers apply.

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With his usual hallway scowl and robes billowing behind him, Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and decorated war hero (Order of Merlin First Class), stalked his way up from the dungeons. It was the final days of the term and students were jubilant in their gaits and grating in their screeching as they celebrated the finishing of final exams. Severus Snape may be more patient in class and he may be fairer to the students of other houses, but he was still respected and feared on general principle by the student body. He was, after all, the great bat of the dungeons, and, during the colder months, the vampire rumors still persisted. As he made his way up to his destination, students that found themselves in his path immediately stood up straighter, talked more quietly, and made to move themselves from his path as swiftly as possible.

It was three years ago when the war had ended. Harry Potter fulfilled the prophecy, doing away with the Dark Lord. Harry was able to accomplish this with the help of the members of the Order of the Phoenix; most notable was Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, who stood by his side and kept the Death Eaters at bay, and of course, Severus Snape, without whom, none of it would have been possible. During the last months before the final battle, Snape was able to work his way back into the Inner-Circle of the Dark Lord, which brought the most important piece of intelligence to the Order, which, consequently, brought about Voldemort’s downfall; that and a little potion that Snape, with Hermione Granger’s assistance, brewed up. After all of the reports were in, the Daily Prophet ran a story on Snape, outlining his exploits as a spy.

Snape was pleased for the respect it brought him, but it was bittersweet. He may admit to himself that he was lonely at times, and would love to have real friends, but everyone, save a few in the Order who knew of his life before, either approached him because of the novelty of talking to a “war celebrity” or looked on at him in pity for the life he had to lead for so long. It’s during moments like these as he’s waxing maudlin that he can allow himself a moment of empathy for The-Boy-Who-Keeps-On-Living. Although the moment rarely lasts that long, for as boring as he may have found Weasley, or annoying as he had found the know-it-all Granger, Potter had two real friends who were friends with him just because he was Harry. He would give a tooth for just one friend liket; jt; just one that he could talk to about something of more substance than the weather, or current politics.

Passing through the Great Hall, he turned the corner and stopped in front of his destination. “Sherbet Fountains,” he said with a look of distaste on his face, and the gargoyle moved aside. As Snape stepped on to the moving staircase, he began to wonder in earnest what was so important that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and general pain in Snape’s arse, wanted with him so early in the morning. Snape may consider Albus Dumbledore a friend, but he was such a meddling busy-body at times and often asked for the most asinine favors; favors that were either embarrassing or potentially life threatening. Truth be told, he considered Albus more a mentor or father figure, and a batty, sugar loving one at that.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Snape knocked on the headmaster’s door before entering.

“Ah, good morning Severus. Lemon Drop?” Dumbledore held out a tin to Snape.

“No thank you, Headmaster,” Snape said, settling into one of the chairs in front of the Headmaster’s desk.

“How are you doing, Severus? Finished with all of your finals?”

“Everything is graded and logged, Headmaster, though I doubt this is why you summoned me to your office this morning.” Snape was impatient with getting down to business. He had lists to make and notes to pour over before heading to The Apothecary in Diagon Alley. This is to be the summer he would get back to his researching. He had many theories he had wanted to test for years, but between the Dark Lord and Dumbledore, he hadn’t had the time.

“Very good, Severus, I’ll get to the point. I need a favor.” Snape gave the Headmaster a look that one usually only sees on an incredulous teenager.

“I do hope this is something that I can complete quickly, Headmaster. You know that I have been planning on finally returning to my own studies this summer.”

“Indeed I do remembeat, at, Severus. The favor I ask of you will take a few weeks, but,” the Headmaster held up his hand, staying the forthcoming retort from Snape, “it will only require a few hours per day. You will be provided space in a fully operational and, dare I say, state of the art potions’ laboratory.”

“I take it, that this task,” Snape spat, “will take me from Hogwarts? What, pray tell, is it that you will be having me do?”

“Quite simple, really,” Dumbledore began. “You will be learning how to make a web site.”

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