Rough Times

"Miss Smith! Mr Elburn! Drop your wands immediately!" Severus shouted, throwing himself in between the two students. A crowd had already gathered at the entrance of the Potions classroom, each student attempting to get a full view of what was happening inside.

"With all due respect, Snivellus, we are rather busy right now", Elburn said, his wand still pointed at his classmate. The Slytherin girl was ready to attack, and Severus knew that look in her eyes too well.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?" he shouted again, feeling his heart beat faster.

It could not happen again, not so soon, not when he was supposed to finally be in control. He would not let them.

With a quick move of his wand, he disarmed both students.

"Forty points from Gryffindor and thirty from Slytherin. Miss Smith, you'll come to see me tomorrow evening in my office. Class dismissed."

As the students went out, he heard some more laughter and insults directed his way. That alone threatened to send him into hysterics. It was only his second class of the day; he thought about pouring himself a drink, then decided against it. Too early. Instead he settled on a calming draught, though he knew he had already abused the substance lately.

He just did not know how to do it. It did not matter what he did, what strategy he picked, what conduct he engaged in: disaster always ensued. If he tried to be nice, they took advantage of him and the class quickly transformed into utter chaos. If he shouted, they laughed; if he remained calm, they ignored him.

He had no control over anything, and he craved it - it made him physically sick.

The bell rang. That, thankfully, provided him with some relief, considering he had a double period with his second-year Slytherins and Ravenclaws. They were easier to manage - they seemed to quite enjoy his class, and he took great care to make things as interesting as he could. Deep down, he wanted them to like him, but he was aware that was his greatest weakness. It was too much to ask. So he tried to be here if they needed him, that was all. It did not feel natural at all, especially to him; but his recent conversation with Slughorn, who was supposed to help him take over the role of Head of House over the next year, had made him furious. He had asked the older man about each student, about those he should keep a closer eye on especially; but Slughorn, clueless, had simply told him to go through the students' files, and then proceeded to make him a list of the children with "interesting connections". Watching him list those names on a piece of paper, Severus had experienced a kind of rage he had not felt since his school years; not so long ago, which certainly was part of the problem.

Though he disliked teaching, he would not become another Slughorn.

Minerva had overslept the past weekend, and, as a result, found herself wide awake well past midnight. She enjoyed taking a stroll around the castle at night, so she did, heading toward the staff room to retrieve a book she had left there.

However, as she stepped in, she was surprised to see that someone had lit the fireplace. She stopped in the middle of the room, staring at the man sitting right next to it.

"Professor Snape", she greeted politely. She was quite surprised to find the man here. After the first few weeks of the year, he seemed to have made a point to avoid the room altogether and, as a result, had reduced his interactions with the rest of them to the bare minimum.

She wondered if she could just retrieve her book and walk away, or if that would seem too impolite. As if reading in her mind, Severus took the book on the table next to him and handed it to her.

"I enjoyed it", he remarked, glancing at the title. Minerva studied him. He looked sick and exhausted, though less thin than he had been before, perhaps thanks to Albus who had decreed his presence at dinner to be mandatory. Still he had big, dark circles under his eyes, and that alone, with such a pale complexion, brought about a most disagreeable contrast.

"Insomnia?" she asked, lowering her gaze.

There was something in his posture and eyes that reminded her of herself when she had started teaching; not the exhaustion, but the overwhelming doubt, the feeling of inadequacy. He looked depressed as well.

She sat in the armchair opposite to his, turning her gaze to the fireplace to avoid giving the impression that she was examining him.

"Did you have a hard time with your students?" she asked with a casual tone.

Severus frowned. "You know I have," he said awkwardly.

"I know how hard the first year of teaching can be. And for someone as young as you are, I cannot even begin to imagine what it must be like."

He remained silent.

"I gave a month of detention to Mr Elburn", she said. "What he did and said was unacceptable."

Severus was astonished. He thought that she would, on the contrary, be yet again furious with him for removing points from her house. "He lost ten more points than Miss Smith", he said, as if wishing she would finally react in what he considered to be the coherent way.

Minerva nodded approvingly. "It is important to treat students equally. However, he went too far. I apologise on his behalf."

Severus had to prevent himself from rolling his eyes. 'Students being treated equally' was so far from the reality at Hogwarts that he would have laughed had he not been in the presence of the stern witch.

He simply continued to stare at her until she rose to make herself a cup of tea, and shook his head when she offered him one as well.

"My students were surprised. They had the incongruous idea that I would be more merciful, given the fact the fight involved a Slytherin."

Severus couldn't hold back.

"My students, on the other hand, always expect to be treated more harshly."

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "Did they tell you that?"

"Yes. But only the younger students talk to me. The others still view Horace Slughorn as their Head of House, though we share the responsibility."

"Well", the older woman said, "at least you have achieved something. It is good that some of your students feel comfortable enough to confide in you. When Horace will have left, I am sure more of them will come to you."

"Professor Slughorn never told any of us that we could come to him if we needed it. Those who do not speak to me speak to no one."

Severus had stopped looking away and was now staring at her intensely. Minerva felt a little uncomfortable. Though she always had a cordial relationship with the former Head of Slytherin, she knew he was not suited for the job. He was a rather passive man who failed to show interest when he did not get anything in return.

"He liked you. You were his best student", she replied awkwardly.

"Indeed. But I was a working-class half-blood, so I never stood a chance, did I?"

Ill at ease, Minerva took a sip of her tea. Looking at the man in front of her, she was reminded of the conversation she had with Albus a few weeks ago. The feeling of uneasiness she was experiencing at this moment was but the foundations of her cognitive dissonance shaking slightly, but like the headmaster, she had a ready-made answer to appease herself.

"Times are changing. That is why Albus hired you: you know the school's flaws."

Severus laughed bitterly. "I seem to remember I was a student here only five years ago. And, as I am sure you know, that is not why the headmaster hired me."

He stopped talking abruptly. He should not be criticizing the headmaster, the one man who had given him a second chance, who had saved him from Azkaban. That would not do. That he now was the older man's pawn, that the man had lied to him and held him in his power was something he was too intelligent to overlook - but those were things the deputy headmistress was not aware of, of course.

"I apologize", he said quickly. "I did not mean to sound ungrateful".

But Minerva remained perfectly calm, merely shifting position in her seat.

"Albus told me he knows he has been partial."

Severus looked surprised.

The old man says many things, but does little.

"Albus thinks you are good at the job."

The Potions Master merely blinked. He did not know whether to laugh or simply start shouting. It took him a great deal of self-control to remain calm, but there was, still, a slight tremor in his voice when he spoke.

"How? How am I supposed to be good at this? The majority of my students have no respect for me as they still remember me from my school days. The others are used to having no one who cares for them and see any attempt at reaching out to them as some sort of manipulation, always with malicious intent. Many are blood supremacists. I have half-blood students that are bullied by other Slytherins. I have students who clearly come from abusive homes and Professor Slughorn never looked into it. What, exactly, does the headmaster think I can do? The issue is systematic."

It felt good to finally get it out of his chest, no matter what McGonagall thought of it.

But Minerva was astounded. She was shocked to discover that the young man in front of her, who had been teaching for less than a year, cared so much for his students, especially students he had had difficulties handling. In many ways, he was more lucid than many teachers with years of experience, and she felt she was starting to understand what Albus had told her – perhaps she was even understanding more than he had.

"I know I did not always act as I should have. I am sorry for that", she said.

Despite himself, Severus glanced at her angrily. She was like Dumbledore – they apologized without understanding or meaning it, they apologized for themselves so they could soothe their aching egos. And thus they would remain good people; good people who could look down on him, and judge him, pity him, save him if need be.

Minerva remembered him as a student. He had never really talked to her, merely answering her questions in class in his first years. Gradually, though he was brilliant, he had seemed to lose interest in her subject, handing in perfect assignments without a word. In his fifth year, she had completely lost him. It had frustrated her – of this particular year, she remembered the incident by the lake. She was told he had used the term mudblood. And that was it; of course he had. From this moment he had been a lost cause, like many others. It was all natural. She had to focus on her own students, protect them from the black sheep, the ones born with a congenital defect.

It was all hard to stomach. But just as she could see in his eyes that there was no forgiveness, he certainly could see in hers how she would never forgive a death eater.

Now was not the time for forgiveness. But help, that she could provide.

"Come to my office tomorrow evening. Bring some essays. I'll give you some teaching advice and show you how I plan my one-on-one meetings with students. And we will have tea with biscuits", she added, smiling slightly.

Severus looked at her curiously. She was not looking at him pitifully; she did not seem to be offering help out of commiseration, but simply, it that even was possible, out of... friendliness. He found it puzzling. Unnatural.

"Well?"

He pulled himself together.

"What time would suit you best?" he finally replied.

"Come by at 5:30." She rose. "And get some rest in the meantime, you won't survive on two hours of sleep a night."

He had been lost, but perhaps, just perhaps, she could help, however late it was.