A one time thing {Severus Snape}

Chapter 19: It's nothing to do with trust

"It would appear that our Divination teacher, Professor Rider, knows a thing or two about the Dark Arts," drawled Snape, his voice lazy with sarcasm. He glared around at his most disliked class; Seventh year Gryffindors.

"He has very kindly agreed to sit in on this class and indeed, offer a few pearls of wisdom." Snape looked across at where Dean was standing; his hands were clasped together and a huge false smile was plastered across his face. Snape sneered and looked back out at the class. They were all well aware of the exchange in the hall; it had spread like wildfire.

Snape stood up from his desk and folding his arms turned to look back at Dean.

"Everyone on their feet, push all the desks to the back of the classroom. With the least possible noise," he snapped, his hard eyes not leaving Dean's face. Snape had briefly wondered how much Dean actually knew about the Dark Arts. He was certain that underneath all the exterior show and friendliness that Dean wasn't as stupid as Lockhart had been. He could still see that idiot go flying off the stage, with half the girls anxiously looking to see if he was alright. His eyes flickered to Hermione Granger, but she was whispering to Harry, not looking adoringly at Dean. He was relieved about that; he might just remove every single house point from her if he had to face that as well.

"Granger, ten points from Gryffindor for whispering."

She looked indignant but kept her mouth shut; at least after seven years she'd finally realised when to keep quiet.

"Well, Professor Snape, it looks like we're ready, how would you like to proceed?" Dean inquired politely.

Snape heard someone whisper for Dean to use the killing curse on Snape; but he ignored it and instead turned to face Dean.

"Come now, Professor Rider, no need to be shy, we're so honoured to have someone of your knowledge. Please, inform us how you want to proceed," his voice dripped with sarcasm, his black eyes hard as stone as they bored into Dean.

"Well, why don't we ask the students; any of you want to see a particular curse or spell? And please, don't say the Killing Curse," he laughed and smoothed his hand over his hair.

Several hands shot up and Snape felt almost cornered, he knew that every single one of them would just love to see Dean wipe the floors with him. But he just sneered and kept his eyes open; he didn't trust Dean one bit.

"Hermione?" Dean beamed at her, she went slightly pink.

"I've been reading about a curse called "Frigidtus" and I wondered what the effects in relation to Stupify were?"

Snape snorted, trust her to come up with a curse that probably hadn't been used for fifty years. His eyes swept back to Dean who had seemed to pale. Interesting, Snape thought, he watched Dean closely through narrowed eyes. Perhaps he didn't know as much as he claimed. Or had he been a victim of that particular spell?

"Which...er.... Where did you read about that? It's a very old, seldom used curse."

"One Hundred and One Curses," she replied.

"A little light reading, Granger?" Snape sneered nastily and stepped forward ready to take his class back now. "Well, Professor, surely with your level of expertise that's a perfect one to start on. Perhaps someone, other than Miss Granger, can tell us what they know about the curse?" he looked around and saw a few hands; Longbottom's seemed to be quivering half up and half down as he always did when he knew the answer but didn't really want to speak out loud.

"Mr. Longbottom, regale us with your knowledge do," he drawled and arched an eyebrow as Neville's legs gave out and he plopped down into a spare seat.