A Sponsor & A Gentleman

Part X

"Professor Snape." A strawberry blonde witch raised her hand.

The professor paused the writing on the chalkboard behind him. The smudges of white powder against his fingertips. He looked away to stare, wide eyed, at the student who dared interrupt his class. Mid-sentence, no less.

When the hand did not go away, he was forced to address it.

"What, Miss Brown, is so imperative that you must speak during the instructions of a very unstable potion?"

The witch did not show shame nor hesitation in answer. "I have a note from Professor McGonagall that dismisses me from the brewing of potions, seeing as fumes could be harmful for the wee wain. I don't know if you've been told, sir, but I am in the family way."

The note fluttered from her palm into his hand. He refused to expand his grip. The paper crinkled. It fought to enter his fist.

His deathly stare did not diminish the Gryffindor witch expectation to be acknowledged. He sighed heavily.

The professor scanned through the written note within his hand.

"I've been made aware of the fact," he grumbled as it was tucked away. It was becoming a great inconvenience for the aged professor to withstand the underage pregnant witches in his class. "Very well. You are excused from this brewing day."

There was pride in Lavender's eye as she packed her supplies. Her brand-new cauldron, meant to be a fixture rather than a tool for the rest of the year.

Ron grimaced as she slid her things toward him. He tucked them underneath his rested arm.

There was a distinct look of envy through her peers as she strolled toward the back of the class.

A sharp edge came to the professor's dark eyes.

"However," his throat suddenly purred. "In lieu of brewing, seeing as the risk to your child's development is under concern, an essay of two full parchment rolls will be due on my desk by the end of each day that is missed."

Her pace froze. The cheer drained from her face.

Two black flowy sleeves joined together when his hands met in their satisfaction at the pure devastation in his student's face.

She thought she got off free of work. A pathetic note from another professor.

Hermione smirked from her seat alongside Draco. Had Lavender took a minute to consider what kind of man she dealt with, she might have saw the error of trying to undermine a professor's authority in his own classroom.

"Today's topic shall be genetics," Professor Snape drawled. "Particularly how a parent's intellect effects their offspring's. The passage of traits from one generation to the next. A keen focus should be placed upon intellect, personality and disorders that may be inherited. A wise topic for any witch intent to become a mother, especially before the choice of father is made."

Lavender stifled a groan as she grabbed her satchel from Ron. It must have had her inkwells and parchment rolls. She clearly missed the insult hidden within the professor's assignment.

A stick of white chalk was displayed against a darkened board. It pressed against, ready to begin writing, in wait of Lavender's departure.

"A parting word, Miss Brown."

Though she frowned, she turned around. "Sir?"

"Miss Granger completed all of her classes while expecting herself. Including potions. It stands to reason that a witch as bright and intelligent as Miss Granger would know what risks the production of a healthy fetus. A young witch like yourself would do well to follow in her steps if you wish to succeed in this castle."