The Assistant || Severus Snape x Reader ||

Chapter 2: Expectations

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"Have a seat."

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It was a bit of a shock when you were told that Headmaster Dumbledore had assigned you to be Professor Snape's assistant. It was even more odd that it was more of a demand than a request. Your concerns with how it would play out with your busy schedule were made known. After all, you still had classes, Quidditch practice, and a personal desired social time. 

But Dumbledore assured you that everything would work out perfectly in a way that wouldn't cause any unnecessary stress or strain. This was considered a part-time job of sorts. Nothing you couldn't handle.

Just like mostly everyone else, you were intimidated by the infamous Professor Snape. He was just so...mean. The sudden thought of spending time with him on a regular (if not daily) basis was chilling. He was a cold, unforgiving man with no room for error. 

When it came to Potions, you often thanked your lucky stars that you were naturally gifted when it came to brewing. You sympathized for the students who weren't as lucky because Potions was the worst class to struggle in.

While your Potions skills were immaculate, you weren't sure how you'd do as an assistant. As nervous as you were to get started, you were going to give Professor Snape your absolute best, so if things didn't work out, he couldn't say it was because you didn't put in the effort.

The next morning came quickly, and even though it was a Saturday, you had been told to arrive at Snape's classroom early. It was quiet as you walked, the only sound being your footfalls echoing off the walls. This hallway looked so different on a weekend, and you wondered just how much more time you'd be spending around there.

The Potions classroom door was slightly ajar, which was a sign to you that you weren't supposed to just barge in. The upper half of your head poked into the Potions classroom to give you a subtle vantage point to see if Professor Snape was even around.

Sure enough, he was standing with his back towards the door as he rifled through cabinets in the storage closet. Still outside of the room, you spoke gently to get his attention.

"Professor Snape?" You called.

He turned at the sound of his name being called. His posture stood as rigid and serious as ever. The thumping of your heart increase when you realized that there was no turning back now. 

"Ah. Miss [L/N]," He acknowledged emotionlessly. "You may come in."

Your knees were wobbly underneath you as you entered -- whether it was from the cold of the dungeons or your battered nerves, you weren't totally sure. Shivering in ones shoes was a common symptom of the Professor Snape Effect.

He was silent as he sat behind his desk, his hands folded together. While he always had a hint of favoritism towards you, he didn't treat you much differently than other students. 

"Have a seat." He ordered.

Your usual class time seat was on the right side, front row on the right aisle. That way you weren't totally front and center, but close enough to where you could adequately pay attention. It was your safe spot in class, so this time was no different. 

In an attempt to calm down, you exhaled deeply and nonchalantly as you lowered into your seat. Appearing skittish would only make his intimidation worse.

"It has come to my attention that I am now required to have an assistant for a while," He explained, getting right down to it. "Between myself and Headmaster Dumbledore, we found that you were most fitting for the position."

You couldn't help the light, genuine smile that came to your face. You didn't realize that you were a calculated choice. You had assumed that your name had been drawn out of a hat or no one else had been nice enough to accept. 

The wonder of what sort of things were taken into account slipped into your mind, and your wondrous questions were almost immediately answered.

"You have tremendous work ethic in Potions, and you understand the material. You should have learned how my classes work by now, especially since you took my second year Potions class twice." He spoke deeply, a hint of distaste in his voice.

A bubble of defensiveness popped in your gut. They way he phrased it irritated you, but you didn't dare say a word about it. The last thing you wanted was for this to get off on the wrong foot. However, you did allow yourself to change the subject by asking a question.

"Professor, what sort of things will I be assisting you with?"

He nodded briefly. That was a fair question in his mind.

"For the most part, you will be grading tests and tutoring failing students. If necessary, you may have to deal with younger students, mainly Slytherins, who get caught breaking Hogwarts' rules," He answered. "You won't do anything punishment wise. Just bring them to me."

That last part didn't sound appealing at all. Grading assignments and tutoring students seemed easy, but you weren't sure if you were cut out for rounding up mischievous Slytherin students. That was a bridge you would have to cross when you came to it.

"I expect you to be on time if I ask you to be somewhere. I also expect you to do your tasks without complaining. And since I am actively still your professor, don't expect any leeway in your Advanced Potions grade," He spoke. "I won't ever ask you to do anything too difficult. I plan out my schedules weekly, and you'll be notified as well so you will know when to do what and where. I hope you won't disappoint in your duties."

He was the last person you wanted to disappoint. At least if you let Dumbledore down, he wouldn't hold it against you for the rest of your life.

"I'm aware you are on [Y/H]'s Quidditch team. How often do you practice?" He questioned.

He hadn't moved a single inch since this conversation had started. Had he even blinked?

"Tuesdays and Thursdays. 5:00-7:00 PM." You rattled off.

"I will make a note of that and be sure to remember. I don't expect you to interrupt your previous commitments for me." He said, finally averting his gaze to the stack of tests from the night before.

He thumbed through them and divided the stack in half. He rose from his desk, his long legs bringing him to a towering position. He approached your desk, smacking one half of the stack in front of you. He set a quill with a container of red ink next to you, and he returned to his desk with his respective half.

"These are the recent tests of third year students. You are not to repeat or discuss the grades of any students to anyone other than me, understood?"

Professor Snape took student-teacher confidentiality very seriously. This assistant gig would be null and void if you even merely mentioned a student's grade and overall performance to someone.

"Yes sir. I understand." You replied.

"You should know this by now, but I give no partial credit. If you have a question about an answer, ask me," He said, tapping his quill before turning his attention to one of the tests in front of him. "You can begin grading."

You were starting now? You assumed today would just be a quick "here's what I expect" lesson and you would really be starting Monday. There was no sense in arguing with Snape. Thankfully, you had no prior obligations that day. You began grading, peeking at the name at the top of the paper. 

Neville Longbottom. 

It became clear just by the first page of the test that Neville would likely be your first customer of Professor Snape's Assistant's Tutoring. The poor boy barely got anything right.

The silence was painfully awkward. Professor Snape's attention never diverted from the task at hand. This was not a preferred way to spend your Saturday. There was hope that not all of your weekends would be succumbed to this.

And you really hoped that this assistant job would pay off.