An Unrequited Love (S. Snape)

Chapter Seven: The Final Verdict and the Snake

For the next couple of days, Professor Snape was constantly at the head table before me, and because of it, he always successfully got his seat back. This didn’t aggravate me, though it did amuse me that he went to such lengths just to ensure his spot at the table.

Regardless, I would feel content to sit beside him, simply because my very presence seemed to be the source of his recent vindictive nature. Simply by watching him I knew that he wasn’t one to put up with poor behavior, so I suppose my very childish arguments with him never helped.

The bed of my room is comfy and warm, but I know I have to get up. Today is the last of my tests, and it will be the only way to confirm whether or not I will be able to stay. Sighing, I sit up slowly and push the dark comforter off me, yawning and stretching languidly.

The room is a solid mahogany color, the curtains hanging before the window and blocking the sunlight from filtering in a brilliant shade of white. The floor — a rich cherry wood — is covered only in a single red rug, sitting before the fireplace and beneath a coffee table and a couple of pieces of dark furniture. A small room branches off to the left, leading to a small bathroom that is comfortable but holds all necessities. A vanity occupies a corner, holding all of my current clothing options, but other than that, my room is quite plain. Not as large as it was back with the Death Eaters, but much more comfortable than the one at the Leaky Cauldron.

I flex my toes before slipping out of the bed, and landing on the cold hardwood. A small shudder races through me, but I let it pass before sorting out my clothes for the day, and sauntering into the bathroom.

The hot water feels wonderful against my still sleepy form, and I can’t help but spend a near half-hour beneath the water, allowing it to wake me up and warm up my cool body. Stepping out, I wrap a towel around my body and hair, and trek calmly into my living space, removing the towel from my hair first.

With a tender flick of my wand, my hair is both dried and styled, hanging loosely in curls around my shoulders, and prepared for the day. I slip on the rest if my clothes, namely a turquoise sundress, and tossing my traveling cloak on, I pocket my wand and leave my room, heading towards the Great Hall.

As usual, the sun shines down through the ceiling, once more proving to be another promising day. Occupying the staff table is now McGonagall, Dumbledore, Snape, and a new face.

The woman appears short, even in her seated position. Her hair, a mousy brown, is curled perfectly and placed atop it, a velvet black bow. With a pale, toad-like face, her bulging eyes turn towards me, and an almost sickening sweet smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. Wearing a pink cardigan over a green tweed suit, it further increases her appearance of an amphibian, and almost impatiently her ugly-ringed fingers tap the tabletop.

“Well,” she begins, in a simpering tone. “You must be Audrey Potter. I hope you don’t take after your brother.”

“Doubtful,” I whisper, already not liking her attitude. Smoothly I march towards the table, ignoring her condescending gaze as she watches me. “I would assume you are Dolores Umbridge?”

She bristles at my words, her nostrils flaring indignantly.

“That’s Professor Umbridge to you, dear,” she chides, voice remaining even, though it’s clear that she struggles to keep her emotions in check. “I will be giving you your Defence Against the Dark Arts test, and how convenient that you came down early. We can start now.”

“What, here?” I ask, snorting in amusement.

“Is that so unfortunate?” she inquires. “If you really are as great as everyone compliments you as, then I am sure it will do no harm for you to show them — right — here.”