Rom To My Private Dungeon

*** Once out of earshot of his new arrival, Snape walked briskly back to his office and slammed himself into his desk chair, clearly annoyed with himself. His heart was still pounding. But it was definitely not due to any workout, as the walk back from Hogsmeade was by no means uphill. "This is ridiculous." he thought to himself, and poured a glass of brandy. "I am not a hormonal teenager. I am in control." Closing his eyes, he sank back in his chair for a moment and steadied his breath. Finding all efforts to clear his mind futile, he decided it was probably best to simply make himself useful. At any rate, even the dungeons couldn't drown out the sound of the children. He was bound to be distracted one way or the other. "Three hours until lunch. That will give me enough time to send off the last of my letters and start work on the potion for the staff party tonight." And so he did. He vented his feelings into a particularly descriptive letter to Neville Longbottom's grandmother: It is with considerable restraint that I write to you concerning your grandson Neville Longbottom. It is my duty to report that by stint of miracle he shall receive passing marks in Potions at 67/100. However, I must include that this may only be possible due to the assistance of his 'little friend' Hermione Granger. (muttering "insufferable know-it-all" under his breath). I only allow them to continue as Potions partners because failure to do so may result in even more harm to my dungeon classroom and equipment than the school may afford. If it weren't potentially lethal, I'd make additional summer assignments. If you can afford it, I recommend a private tutor. And, Mrs. Longbottom, with due due respect, I feel your pain. Thank you for the 6 times you replaced young Master Longbottom's cauldron this year. As per the request in your last owl, I will make the very rare and, in fact unheard of exception, by allowing you to purchase a non- standard thick-bottomed ultra-sturdy cauldron for next year. Against my better judgment, I have written to a few of the less-compassionate parents requesting they not seek damages for ruined shoes, robes and potions lab equipment, etc. Although, I should warn you that in some cases the costs are so high that my entreaties may go ignored. After all, some families can ill afford to pay for their own children's mistakes, let alone be yoked with the burden of a student such as your grandson. Merlin help us all. E you your summer. I am certain we shall be in touch next year. God speed Professor S. Snape, Potions Master Mrs. Weasley would get an earful about the twins. ...Dungbombs...filibusters fireworks...wasted talent on childish pranks... you might consider recanting your signature for their trips to Hogsmeade... if I catch them in my store room one more time... Mrs. Crabbe and Goyle would receive recommendations for private tutors for their sons (suspecting full and well that they would not be followed up on). ...fine boys...true Slytherins...might benefit from some extra attention... just a thought...did pass with grade of 67/100 mind... Mrs. Chang would be apprised of Cho's greater interest in the boys than in the classes. ...might one day deem herself worthy to pay more attention to lessons and less attention to the Quidditch players...compulsively brushes hair in class...winds up in her cauldron, ruining all her recipes... Marcus Flint would receive a very nice letter about his contributions to the Slytherin Quidditch team. ...a fine, fine boy...can fully appreciate the art of subversive tactics on the playing field...made a good show for the name of Slytherin...took positive advantage of his slightly lightened homework load...but doing well in Potions...75/100... Lucius and Narcissa would, of course, have nothing to worry about with their darling little progeny. My dear friend Lucius, I hope this letter finds you and your lovely wife well. It was an extreme privilege to watch over your boy this year...exceptional talent in Potions...truly exemplified all that Slytherin stands for...sorting hat did not even need to pause to consider another house...kept that Potter boy in line...marks of 98/100...only one student did better...insufferable Granger girl....must've been a fluke...one small favour if you please...no charges to the Longbottoms for his ruined shoes and bookbag...bit of a headache for me, if you don't mind... Letters now posted, Severus turned his attention to the party potion. Stiff and unpleasant as many found him to be, none could deny his skills with a cauldron. All things being equal, a friendship with Severus was not needed to enjoy imbibing his libations every year. Snape usually made two versions of "punch" - a fruity variety for the majority, and a more astringent one for those who preferred the taste of liquor. But regardless of the flavour, the secret ingredient was a pinch of ashwinder eggshell powder. The yolk of an Ashwinder egg was well known as the main ingredient in love potions. But he was not using the yolk. Few knew that the right amount of eggshell powder served as a social stimulant. It had the right properties to diminish the unpleasant effects of alcohol (for those who were "bad drunks") and mentally relaxed people to feel less inhibited. Attendees generally preferred using Severus' punch as an alcohol mixer (or drunk on its own), because he also added a touch of bezoar resin, which worked as an anti-hangover agent. Since it was his own private recipe, the end of term party was also the only time those privileged attendees could enjoy it. Severus went to his private stores and picked up the majority of ingredients. A rumbling in his stomach reminded him that lunchtime was approaching, which was just as well, since he needed items from the kitchen. So he set off to the great hall for a quick meal before acquiring his final supplies. Engrossed as his mind was with the task ahead of him, he had completely forgotten to retrieve his new intern (or did that happen on purpose?). He had meant to show her the way to the great hall, and introduce her to everyone. He'd meant to give her a tour of the castle, knowing how easily one could get lost in it. And though his intentions were all well and good, they were, alas, not fulfilled. He was painfully reminded of this as he waltzed into the great hall and found himself torn from his reverie. His skin turned ashen and his pulse raised a few beats at the sight of Maracuja amiably chatting with Dumbledore. "Ah, Severus!" Dumbledore jovially announced his arrival. "Ms. Feuer was just telling me the most fascinating story about the magical properties of apples." "Fascinating, I'm sure." He responded dryly. "Next you'll be telling me not to eat any offered from a snake. Muggle superstition, no?" "How very droll." Maracuja injected with a sly smile. "No one told me you were funny." Of all the possible reactions Snape might have anticipated, this one was not on the list. ***