Barbarism to Decadence.

Summary: Vancelot Price, the new Potions professor enjoys teasing the irresistable Professor Snape, much to the man's dismay. Snape finds the younger man entirely too irreverant and foolish to be teaching students, especially since he hasn't been in wizard society since he exiled himself to the Muggle world at thirteen. Now he has come back at the request of Albus Dumbledore, and he has a whole slew of progressive ideas that are likely to anger a lot of people.

((This is my first story on this site, so I hope you will all review and let me know what you think. I'm not entirely happy with this first chapter, but I can't seem to find a way to fix it any more, and if I tried, I'd probably mess it up worse than it already is. I hope everyone enjoys! P.S. The title is from a quote by Oscar Wilde.))


The soft chatter of students filled the Great Hall on the first night of the new school year, friends reuniting to discuss their summer escapades and enemies glaring across aisles at one another. The laughter and shouts were like a sweet, exciting music that was familiar in a way and yet melancholy. Every new year was met with anticipation and a bittersweet sorrow, for one never knew anymore who would survive to return home. Ever since the TriWizard Tournament and Cedric Diggory's death, students greeted one another with more enthusiasm, and said farewell with an undercurrent of foreboding. Voldemort was back, everyone knew it now and it made life so much less secure.

The noise drew to silence when the tall, blue-robed wizard with his long grey beard rose and held up his hand. Dumbledore strode calmly around the table and stood at the podium to look out over the familiar faces and the timid gazes of the newcomers. He lingered there a moment with an inward sigh, for they looked ever so young and they were being unwittingly drawn into a fight they knew nothing about only a year ago. He finally looked away and cleared his throat before addressing the room, feeling the sure beat of his heart, yet knowing in the deepest well of his soul that he would not outlast the end of the school year.

"I would first like to welcome back the returning students, we are most pleased to have you all back once more within the walls of Hogwarts. And, to the fresh, young faces of our new first years, there is no safer or happier place to be in these trying times, and we assure you that we will do everything in our power to make your first year in our school as fun and educational as possible."

He paused to allow for the cheers that rose from the house tables, his smile growing as he saw the trusting eyes of his students turned upon him. Death was not so frightening when one knows they will live on in the hearts of a great many students, both young and old.

"I have a few announcements to make before we begin the Sorting. First, the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor has been given to our esteemed Professor Severus Snape."

He fell silent once more, looking toward the dark-haired, dour looking man who merely glanced over the room and tilted his head at the jeers from the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables and the polite clapping from the Slytherin table. Then, he motioned to the tall gentleman standing in the shadows off to the side of the room, beckoning him forward. He moved with an innate grace, pausing to bow to Dumbledore before facing the students with an easy smile curling his lips.

Dumbledore glanced around, noting the interest piquing in the eyes of most of the female students and a few of the male ones, telling himself he owed himself a knut for winning the bet that the new professor would be a hit.

"This is Professor Vancelot Price. He will be taking over for Professor Snape in Potions, and also has volunteered to teach a special class on the weekend. However, I will allow him to explain that class to you personally. Professor?"

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Vance listened with half an ear as Dumbledore introduced him, his sparkling golden eyes wandering over the faces turned in his direction. He tried to calculate intelligence in the eyes, and the way the students held themselves, but found himself foiled by the sheer number. Never before had he been required to teach so many, and certainly not at different levels. Teaching Muggle high school didn't prepare one for this experience whatsoever.

He turned as Dumbledore came to the end of his speech and bowed once more, flashing the kind, cunning old wizard a smile. "Thank you, Headmaster." His deep, rich voice rumbled around the room, carrying despite his habit of speaking softly.

He turned to move around the podium, sliding his hands into the pockets of his robe and taking his time glancing to each table, picking out one face at each to focus on for a moment before moving on. He noted the Malfoy child, on whom he'd been briefed, not surprised by the hostility he read in the boy's silver gaze.

Then he moved on, gaze pausing on a small, black-haired Hufflepuff with oddly-colored violet eyes, then to a rather insipid-looking blond Ravenclaw boy. Finally he reached Gryffindor, and found his gaze captured by the curious, whiskey-hued eyes of a curly-haired girl. He glanced briefly to her companions and nodded to himself.

Of course, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter himself. He had not heard of Harry Potter until he first arrived at the school, having removed himself from wizarding society when he was 13, a few months before the incident in which He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was destroyed.

He shook off his thoughts and smiled easily, reaching up to run a hand through the shoulder-length, dark chocolate hair that always seemed to be in his eyes. "As the Headmaster has noted, I will be holding classes on a very special subject on Saturday afternoons between two and six o'clock. These will not be on any O.W.Ls or N.E.W.Ts, and are entirely optional."

He slid his dark oak wand from his pocket and flicked it, making parchments appear before each sixth and seventh year student. He chuckled at their gasps and the soft groans from the other students.

"The class is only being offered to the older students, because I feel the subject matter is too adult for any student not yet sixteen or older. I am willing to make exceptions for fifth years who have already turned sixteen, and if any would like to be a part of the class, please see me tomorrow afternoon. The parchments have all the information you shall need on the class, and there will be a sign-up sheet outside of my Potions classroom."

He turned then and took his seat at the professor's table, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes to enjoy the quiet murmurs that rose as the students discussed his class.

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"Obviously he's from across the pond, did you hear his accent?"

Harry, Hermione and Ron were lounging in the Gryffindor common room, peering at the information sheets they'd received on the new professor's class. A note of excitement trilled through Hermione's voice as she stared at the paper and thought of sitting in the handsome new Potion's professor's presence for four hours.

"Listen, isn't it interesting? Understanding Muggles through Muggle Literature. Oh! And it says that if he gets more than thirty students signed up, there will be tests that will help him to determine who would most benefit from his instruction!"

Harry and Ron glanced at one another, then looked over at Hermione, Ron's brow furrowing. "'Mione...It sounds boring and it's being held on a weekend. I think he'll be lucky to get one student, besides you, of course."

Hermione glanced up and grinned at them, shaking her head. "Boys are so clueless. The class sounds interesting, but I doubt that's what will draw most of the students."

Harry blinked and arched a brow, leaning forward to peer at her. "Well, then what will?"

She giggled and tucked the sheet of parchment into her Potions textbook, standing and heading for the staircase up to the girl's dormitory. "The man teaching it, of course."

She grinned to herself as she breezed from the room, hearing the boy's confused grunts behind her. If she was entirely honest with herself, the subject intrigued her but the man drew her like a magnet.