Frustratingly Impressed
So classes began. With classes came all the damned clubs. Quiddich, choir, astronomy, chess, you name it. Severus hated that students preferred to waste their time on trivial things outside of their studies. Professor Smith however, seemed to have no such issues. Severus saw on the signup sheet for this year’s choir group that she would be conducting it! He rolled his eyes. If she expected to get her grading completed, conduct choir rehearsals, and brew potions, she was in for a rude awakening. When she seated herself in what was becoming her usual spot next to him at breakfast on the second morning, he said “I think you have lost your mind.” She looked at him cheerfully and chuckled. “Why is that professor?” Severus just shook his head. “You’re daft if you think you can juggle all of your chosen commitments. Choir?” He said judgingly. “What do you have against music professor?” she said calmly. “And as I said before. I can handle my own schedule, thank you.” She turned to her plate and opened her notebook, conferring her notes for the day. Thus ending the conversation.
After breakfast, Severus was faced with first year potions. As the class progressed, he discovered that he would have his hands full this year. He not only had another Weasley in his school, he had identical twins. Not only were they twins, but the mischievous kind. By the end of their first potions class, they had already managed to explode a cauldron, and set a young slytherin girl’s hair on fire. He noted that he could never allow for them to be seated together in future unless he wanted full-blown chaos to ensue daily. They had already been assigned detention by professor Mcgonnagal for the entire first week of classes, so Severus had reserved their second week for scrubbing cauldrons and mincing murtlap tentacles.
The classes with the Weasley twins got no better, and Severus was ready to pull his hair out by the end of his second week of classes. During his free period, he decided to take a walk to the professors’ lounge to make himself a proper cup of tea when he had to stop himself. He had just walked past professor Smith’s room and heard her discussion with the twins. She seemed too calm and collected most days. Too easy going. He had assumed that her classes would be unruly and overrun by boisterous and disrespectful students, however, this was not the case. In this class, she was introducing the uses of defensive spells. Having had older siblings, it made sense that the twins would know a few spells before entering Hogwarts, and she had them in front of the class demonstrating the efficacy of their protego casting. She had done it! Managed to make their unruliness work for her. She gave them their desired limelight while providing insightful critique. She had managed what other teachers had not. And he could see in how they listened and adjusted their wand movements to her critiques, that they respected her. How frustrating! He marched on to grab his much needed tea.
Later that day, he watched as she led her first choir rehearsal. He didn’t care really, the rehearsal just happened to be in the great hall, and he just happened to take the long route to his lab after a trip to the loo. She had conjured a piano in the hall and shifted the house tables to the far walls. The students were lined up in rows and she was working through vocal warm-up exercises. She would sing first, and then they would repeat as they worked up and down scales, using different consonants and vowels. He couldn’t help but note her voice. It was beautiful and clear. No wonder she wanted to take the choir on this year.
As the weeks wore on, they established a schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, she would have a choir rehearsal before supper. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, she would meet Severus after Supper in the dungeons and brew in his lab until it was time for bed. Generally they would work in silence. Severus was always surprised at her preparedness. He tested her here and there to see what she knew. He learned that she knew most basic potions by memory and if given advance notice on a more robust potion, she would have that one memorized in time to brew it with him. If he thrust an advanced potion at her without notice, she could work from a text, and make her own creative adjustments to enhance the potion. Her potions were without fail, perfect every time. She never faltered, never failed, never wasted an ingredient. She was always on time, and she never seemed overwhelmed with her workload. He didn’t understand it.
There were more aspects about her that peaked his interest too. Her accent didn’t align with growing up in the US. There was a lilt to it on occasion that caused him to wonder. He wouldn’t ask though. That would make it look like he cared. She had a strong confidence that was never shaken. While Severus was a legilimens, and he knew it rude to explore an innocent’s mind, occasionally he would try and skim the surface of the people around him. When he skimmed the surface of her mind, it was always focused on the task at hand, oozing calm contentedness. He couldn’t understand how she got all her work done. She was teaching or conducting or brewing during all waking hours of the day. He frequently saw her engaging with students, and he knew she had established herself as a safe adult to approach for students who were struggling with school, homesickness, or with their home lives. But when did she do her lesson plans? When did she do her correcting? All he could think was that she mustn’t sleep. But she always seemed well-rested. He didn’t understand. Finally, one day his curiosity got the best of him.
They were working on making a batch of murtlap essence one evening when Severus finally broke the silence. “Where are you from?” he began. Smith looked at him incredulously and smirked. “Two months in, and you’ve just decided to ask?” Severus rolled his eyes. This was exactly why he never did ask people things. She went on however, “I’m actually Canadian. I grew up on the east coast.” Severus glanced up. So that was why she didn’t sound American. It suddenly made sense. Eastern Canada was known for its Irish, Scottish, and English descendants. That explained the lilt to her speech. “How old were you when you left Canada?” Severus asked. Her eyes darkened slightly at that. “Just before I turned ten” she said and then “Where did you grow up?” A quick handoff with no expansion. He didn’t understand. Most people loved to talk about themselves. “Cokeworth,” Severus responded. She nodded and continued stirring her potion. They continued in silence until their time had run out. Severus would have to be creative to get more information out of her.