Severus Snape And The Marauders

Chapter 49

If I Wanted You to Chop Your Fingers Off I'd Show You How to Do It Properly

Severus leaned against the stone wall of the Entrance Hall just to the left of the double doors. He listened to the sounds emerging from the Great Hall: the low hum of conversation, the click of spoons against cereal bowls, the hooting of owls. Ted and Aristarchus Moody stood beside him-Ted praising the virtues of Quintaped puke, Moody frowning in polite skepticism-as they waited to make their entrance. Ted smiled at Severus, his hands still darting about in excited gestures; Severus tried to smile back, but inside he felt as incredulous as Moody.

Me? A teacher? Severus held few illusions about himself; and frankly, he didn't know what Dumbledore was thinking. I'm excellent at Potions, yes. I can Apparate illegally, yes. I hold up under the Cruciatus and I can force myself to kill people, yes. However, I have the people skills of a rock-half the student population's still terrified I'll eat them-and I'm weeks behind in homework, failing History of Magic, and can't do a Vanishing Spell to save my life-how exactly does this make me qualified to teach?

"Your attention, please."

The noise trickled down to a level approaching silence. Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued: "You know, of course, of the most fortunate recovery of Professor Tonks' daughter. In light of these circumstances, our Potions Professor has decided to take a holiday to spend more time with his family. He will no longer be teaching."

Severus heard the murmurs of astonishment even through the double doors. He looked down at his feet, fingering the freshly-pressed green robes he'd summoned from Gryffindor tower.

"Fortunately, we were able to secure a replacement on such short notice-"

Anticipation swelled in Severus' chest; he closed his eyes for a moment, and realized between breaths that he'd just been given the opportunity of a lifetime-who cares if I'm qualified? I'm undoubtedly better than Umbridge. So why worry? When his eyes opened to Ted's ever-present smile, Severus was ready with a smirk of his own.

"-so without further ado, I would like to introduce you to your new Potions master: Professor Snape."

Severus pushed open the double doors and entered the Great Hall.

He marched confidently through the table-long lines of astonished faces. Ted and Moody-still chatting-were at his side; Severus' eyes drifted past them to Gryffindor table. Remus gave him a thumbs-up, James gaped, and Sirius and Lily mimed some sort of victory dance. Severus arched an eyebrow and continued towards the High Table, where Nymphadora waved from Andromeda's lap and the professors gawked like first years at the Sorting.

Umbridge, who had frozen with wide eyes and oatmeal dribbling out of her mouth, was the first to recover. "Headmaster!" she screeched. "He is expelled from this school! I will not have him-"

"Ah, Dolores, I am afraid that your opinion on Professor Snape's presence, however much it may mean to me personally," Dumbledore said, spreading his toast with enough butter to make Severus feel sick, "is not particularly relevant. He is qualified for the post. As the Ministry of Magic states-"

"He's only fifteen!" Umbridge stood up, shouting at Dumbledore over Professor Flitwick's head. "He hasn't taken his O.W.L.S.! He's a danger to everyone here! I demand he be removed from the school immediately!"