Behind the Looking Glass

A Book By Its Cover


“Well, well, well! That smarmy - little - bastard!” Snape snarled to no one in particular, for he now felt thoroughly justified for his suspicions after all. Hollingsworth had a shaded and dodgy past after all.

Shortly after barely having grades good enough to graduate from Hogwarts, August Hollingsworth had had his share of legal run-ins with the ministry, ranging from petty theft, larceny, to allegedly gaining the confidence of several widows in order to steal their valuables. Each time being caught and released into his long-suffering twin sister’s custody to await the many hearings that followed. There were no records of any marriages, though there were numerous suspected liaisons with those of the same gender, and there was virtually no circle of friends or acquaintances on record as well.

Reading further, Snape’s brows furrowed even deeper. The DADA instructor had virtually escaped unscathed during time served in the conflict, while his parents and twin sister had not been so fortunate. Early in the war, they had been viciously killed while defending St. Mungo’s. Hollingsworth had been assigned the light, somewhat cushy and safe duty of attendant to one of the field commanders, who happened to be a Medi-Wizard. Since then, apparently out of guilt and remorse, Hollingsworth had not been involved in anything licentious, becoming quite the model citizen.

“Model citizen indeed!” Snape sneered at the monitor with utter disgust and quickly cleared the screen of his search, for he refused to continue to read the rubbish he believed to be displayed there. He sat back resting his elbows upon the wooden arms of the chair, tented his fingers, and started to scheme of the most efficient way to make life thoroughly and perpetually miserable for one August Hollingsworth.

Classes did not go very well for the new DADA instructor that day. Every thing that could go wrong did, which was evident from the shrill screams of terror that issued forth from the classroom from time to time, causing the professor a great deal of effort to control the near panic and histrionics that threatened to erupt en masse. As the day ended, being quite fatigued and with nerves stretched tightly and very near to the breaking point, Holly fled down the corridor to seek the peace and sanctuary of private chambers.

Stepping swiftly from around the corner, Snape barred the path with an out-stretched arm bringing the frustrated professor to a skidding halt as he said, “Retiring so soon Hollingsworth? The evening is still young.”

“Er – y – yes, of course,” Taken by surprise, Holly stammered in reply, heart beating wildly against the constraints of the teacher's ribs like a caged, frightened bird.

“Too bad. I thought perhaps we might enjoy a drink at The Three Broomsticks,” Snape folded his arms and leaned against the wall; his ebony eyes stared piercingly causing the professor to wilt slightly.

“I think not,” the words were mumbled and barely audible.

“Oh?”

“It is just – that I’m quite tired is all…” Holly looked down at the flagstones, voice trailing off, realizing how lame the excuse actually sounded, wishing that Snape was anywhere but at the present location.

With arms still crossed, Severus Snape walked slowly and deliberately forward, forcing August Hollingsworth, now wide-eyed and quite alarmed; to step back until the cold stony wall prevented any further retreat.

“Well! Perhaps another – time then, eh Hollingsworth?” He said suddenly, causing his quarry to flinch. He leaned close as he used his height to full advantage while he towered over the now frightened professor, and noticed for the first time how smooth his nemesis’s cheeks were.

“Er – yes, perhaps,” Holly moved sideways along the wall, slipped around Snape and rapidly walked, desperately trying not to run, toward the safety that waited behind closed doors.

Snape laughed low in his throat, and watched in completely satisfied amusement. This was certainly going to make time pass much more quickly until the end of the semester as he waited for his long-deserved freedom from the prison of teaching dunderheads. He smirked and started to turn away when his nostrils caught a slight odour. He had smelled the sharp tang of fear that emanated from those in that state before, and it was present now as it still lingered in the air, but something different was mingled within it. It was something that seemed oddly familiar, yet remained tantalizingly elusive as it teased the recesses of his brain for its name.

Arriving at The Three Broomsticks, Snape immediately confiscated the only available corner table. The corner was dimly lit and that was how he preferred it. His drink soon apparated onto the table and he leaned back to have another good brood. Loosening his coat, he went over in his mind and analysed each one of August Hollingsworth’s reactions for some sort of clue.

Even though he had seen and thoroughly read Hollingsworth’s profile, suspicion kept rearing its head. There was something not quite right, and he was determined to find out what that ‘not quite right’ was. Firstly, he wondered why Minerva McGonagal would hire someone with such a past, and that was something that dearly needed looking into. Secondly, how someone who barely had the wits to graduate from Hogwarts could attain the position of DADA was completely beyond him. Thirdly, Hollingsworth was hiding something and Snape knew it.

The evening had turned sharply chill and the Potions Master’s battle wounds, though healed, began to complain in earnest. Tossing a few Knuts onto the scarred table, he carefully rose – it would not do to annoy his joints further than what they already were. His brow deeply furrowed, and limping slightly, he quietly took his leave.

The pain had risen to nearly unbearable proportions, but no one would have been able to tell for he hid his pain well. The only telltale sign, his limp had become more pronounced, as it was usually barely noticeable, and his stride had slowed as he walked through the darkened corridors of the only place he knew of as home.

“You should take better care of yourself Professor,” the ancient portrait of a Medi-Wizard spoke in clucking sympathy from its gilded frame on the wall.

“Ah, shut – up!” Snape growled as he moved past causing the other portraits to awaken, leaving the Medi-Wizard’s portrait with a very shocked look upon its face.

“Well, I never!” The Medi-Wizard’s portrait retorted in a huff.

“I doubt very much that you have,” he shot back, thoroughly shocking the portrait into silence as its peers snickered behind painted hands.

Moving painfully down the hall, he stopped at the foot of the stairs that led to his chambers; as he spied Hollingsworth exit the kitchens. He remained in the darkness where he was, for there was no need as the current bane of Snape’s existence was swiftly headed in his direction. Apparently, sensing someone else was up and about at this hour, the slight figure slowed its pace and eventually came to a halt as recognition set in.

“Hollingsworth,” Snape acknowledged curtly with a nod.

“Professor,” the voice that replied sounded quite unsure as to how to respond.

“Up and about for a midnight snack?” Snape inquired, thinking it to be a good opportunity to quickly accomplish another act of intimidation.

“Er – yes. I – uh – seemed to have forgotten dinner this evening.”

“Perhaps, I should warn you. It is not very wise to roam about the castle at night,” Snape hoped to instil another dose of fear, but instead, received a quite unexpected reaction.

Despite endeavouring to retain a semblance of calm regardless if how much Snape had rattled the instructor’s nerves, anger began to flare up and shone in two spots of colour on those smooth cheeks, “Just what is that supposed to mean?”

“No need to become upset – I simply meant there are ‘things’ that wander about at night that perhaps you may not be aware of,” Snape replied testily, knowing the timbre of his voice betrayed his apparently otherwise normal demeanour.

“Like you?”

The silence that followed was quite profound until Snape finally and abruptly broke it. “I’ve no patience for this sort of tête-à-tête at this hour Professor. I was merely warning you for your own good,” Snape quickly turned to ascend the stairs when his leg finally gave away from the throbbing pain and he fell heavily on the knee that plagued him.

Seeing him grimace in distress, Holly’s temper quickly cooled with compassion and the offer to alert Madam Pomfrey.

“I for-bid it! I will not have that woman touch me! Just, give me a moment.” He pulled himself up to the bottom step, and sat protectively holding his knee with one hand and resting his head in the other, soundly infuriated with himself for not taking a pain-relieving potion with him when he had left the castle.

After a few minutes, he reached up to the banister and attempted to stand, but quickly sat back down – his face had blanched quite pale, more so than usual. He heard footsteps come near and he looked up. A small, but sturdy looking hand was out stretched. Narrowing his black eyes, he considered the offer for help then quickly grasped it in his own, and was greatly surprised by the strength behind that hand as it heaved him to his feet.

“I can walk!”

“Sure you can,” this time it was Holly’s turn to smirk in Snape’s face as the small hand guided the other’s arm around slender shoulders, and the two, albeit odd looking pair, slowly made their way up the stairs.

A pair of watery, pale blue, and very shrewd eyes took in the scene as they peeked from behind the Gryffindore tapestry and watched until the two professors were out of sight. Quietly emerging from his hiding place, Argus Filch, wearing a look of suspicion – which was his usual look, stood absently scratching his rather scruffy looking cat, Mrs. Norris, under the chin.