Saving Iris

To Teach Potions

Iris sat at her desk nervously looking through the parchments covered in almost indecipherable writing.

Dumbledore had assured her she would have no issues settling into teaching as Professor Snape would leave her detained lesson plans that she only had to follow.

He'd left her the equivalent to 30 bloody novels that she had been frantically poring over since she arrived, hoping to make sense of it, but failing miserably. It was beyond her how he had the time to leave such detailed notes. She sighed and sat back in her chair, running her hands through her blonde hair.

"Bloody hell," she murmured, sitting up and rifling through the parchments again, trying to locate the potion textbook. "Dumbledore said it would be easy."

Of course, she should have known better than to expect that anything involving Snape would be easy. Her first class was in a few hours, just before lunch, and she was still a bit unsure of how to go about it.

"Well, I suppose the only thing to do is to just dig in," she said to herself.

Straightening her back with a somewhat renewed determination, Iris looked in the direction of a radio that someone had left in the room - she wasn't sure who but assumed it was not Snape. It began to play an old big band song, with trumpets blaring and a smooth male voice crooning. Iris began to tap her foot in time with the music. She started dividing the parchments into years. A smile graced her face as she felt a sense of accomplishment.

"I do hope you're not planning on polluting these chambers with that horrid noise continuously," a snide voice said from the doorway.

Iris looked up to see Snape standing there with his arms crossed. Her eyes narrowed as she put aside the parchments for a moment.

"Can I help you, Professor Snape?" she asked coolly as she grabbed her wand and waved it in the player's direction, silencing the music.

"I mentioned I would be stopping by frequently to check on you. Consider this my first inspection," he said blandly.

"I'm doing quite fine," Iris said quickly. "I assure you that your potion classes are in capable hands."

By God, she was determined to fake it until she made it, even if she was currently lacking in confidence. Snape closely inspected the walls as he walked into the office.

"I see that you've wasted no time in decorating," he said. "It seems... bright."

Iris could sense the not-so-hidden disgust in his voice. She wanted so much to see what was going on inside his head, but knew it would only infuriate her. So instead, she decided to be cordial.

"Yes, it was a little dark for my taste, so I brightened it up a bit," she said as she glanced around the still somewhat dank office.

She had pulled down the heavy curtains that had hidden the windows along the wall to the right of the desk. Sunlight poured in and played across her chemistry set, which was on a large table in front of it.

Behind the large oak desk where she sat was a long, low bookcase full of old potion books that until that morning had an inch of dust on them. On the wall above the bookshelf was a framed large print that had seen better days. It depicted a young girl, a maid, from the 15th century staring out a bright window while holding a gold water pitcher. Snape's eyes locked onto it as he walked closer.

"Vemeer," he murmured as he thoughtfully studied the domestic scene.

Iris' eyes widened as she followed his view to the old print that had followed her throughout her teen years. It had been a favorite of hers since she saw it in an art book at the used bookstore. She was surprised that Snape was familiar with muggle artists.