A Room With a View

A Long Day's Journey into Knight

August 16, 2005 - Hogwarts

Severus woke with a groan to the chiming of the alarum charm he'd cast the night before. He'd never been much of a morning person, and years away from the rhythm and routines of Hogwarts had left him ill-disposed to rise before nine. Sadly, his body was slower to wake now than it had been before the battle, and the lingering effects of multiple snake bites, years of torture, and middle-age had left his muscles tight at the start of each day. With a sigh, he rolled out of bed and padded his way to the sitting room to begin his stretches and strengthening exercises for the day.

The medical staff at St. Mungo's had recommended a daily course of pain-potions and relaxers to keep his body working as it ought, but Severus had loathed the idea of relying on magical medicine to keep himself in good working order. In the months post-recovery, he had sought help in the muggle world and had discovered that an exercise regimen of regular walks and something called Pilates kept him feeling fit and fairly pain free. Now that he was back in the castle with all its bloody stairs, he could likely get away with a few brisk walks a week. However, the limbering and strengthening exercises would remain a necessity. Not that he enjoyed them. And he'd cheerfully murder anyone who caught sight of the blue foam mat and inflatable ball he'd placed on the floor. He checked the wards on the door of his quarters before bending down to begin his morning routine.

An hour later--and considerably damper--Severus made his way into the luxurious bath. He'd been too tired and frustrated the night before to take advantage of the sunken corner bath and there was certainly no time for it this morning. He moved toward the glass-walled shower stall opposite and completed his morning ablutions, pausing to stretch his back and neck under the hot spray. Bathing rituals complete, he quickly finger combed his hair and dabbed a bit of pomade into it to tame any flyaways. He still felt faintly ridiculous using any kind of hair product, but the reactions he'd gotten to his new 'look' the night before--even from the decidedly taciturn Transfiguration professor--assured him that the choice to cut his formerly lank locks had been the right one.

Moving into the bedroom, he selected another simple black button up and dark jeans from his wardrobe, deciding to take advantage of the less formal atmosphere of the student-less castle for the next two weeks before consigning himself to the formal teaching robes of a Hogwarts professor. He'd be moving boxes and preparing his classroom all afternoon anyway, so the dark, casual clothing would both hide dirt and allow him to move more freely. 

At a quarter to eight, Severus set off toward the staff room, work satchel in tow. He grimaced at the slight grumble in his stomach; he'd not eaten anything after his early supper last night and his morning exercises had left him ravenous. He jogged a bit through the corridors (no one to stop him!) to arrive at the staff room a few minutes before the start of the meeting. He quickly snagged a plate from the small buffet set up for the faculty breakfast and served himself some eggs, toast, ham, and blessedly hot tea before sliding into a seat between Luna and Sybill and tucking into his breakfast.

He was halfway through his second piece of toast before he looked up and noticed that he was seated directly across from Hermione. She caught his eye and regarded him without expression, and Severus found himself recalling their interaction from the night before. He schooled his own face to reveal none of the confusion he had experienced at her obvious animosity and regarded her as balefully as she did he. Why on earth is she so upset with me? I'm not sure of what I could have done in the twelve hours that I've been here that would inspire such enmity. She was almost friendly just after the war. What changed?

His thoughts were broken by the chiming of the hour and the sudden disappearance of his plate. He grunted at that--he'd still had the better part of his ham slice left--and polished off his piece of toast. At least the tea had remained behind. He wasn't sure how anyone could be expected to survive a faculty meeting without a steady stream of caffeine on hand.