Lies
By the time Severus arrived at Hogsmeade, he was soaking wet. He immediately took off the Death Eater mask that covered his face, cast a spell to dry his clothes and rushed to a porch to protect himself from the rain, which was falling thick and cold on this November night. He swore, he'd missed his Apparition by arriving further from Hogwarts than he'd intended and would have to walk longer in the rain to get back to the castle. He glanced at Tempus and saw that it was almost four in the morning. The gathering with Voldemort had lasted very late, with almost all the remaining active Death Eaters present. Severus had felt the rage in his heart as his gaze fell on the wretched Pettigrew. He himself was sitting not far from Voldemort and forced himself to stay focused on the meeting in order to memorise as much information as possible that would be useful to the Order. It was the first time since the Dark Lord's return that all the members had been called together, but there was no shortage of space in Malfoy Manor. Voldemort told them of his new plan to break out of Azkaban the Death Eaters who had been locked up in the prison for so many years. Severus saw that Narcissa could hardly hide her enthusiasm at such a proposal, although the thought of her terrible sister was enough to make him nauseous. Most of the meeting focused on ideas for achieving such a goal. Risky, but feasible. Severus forced himself to remain neutral and to give his opinion on the various proposals without making any himself. His heart pounded in the centre of his ribs at the thought of Azkaban being opened and he secretly thought of Sirius before forcibly pushing him out of his mind.
Then Severus had requested a private audience and had the dreaded discussion about the prophecy. To his surprise, the Dark Lord had been pleased with him, with his deduction about the prophecy and with the information he had provided about the safeguards the Order was planning to put in place. Voldemort had looked thoughtful for a moment before declaring that he already had solutions for trying to get past the Order's guard. He asked Severus for details of the members who would be guarding the entrance to the Department of Mysteries and their exact times. The Slytherin had nodded and was about to leave when Voldemort stopped him with his voice, just as Dumbledore had done a few days before.
"You're not telling me everything, Severus."
"My Lord?" he asked, trying to control his voice.
"What are you not telling me?" his master said in his high, cold voice.
Severus concentrated on his Occlumency shields.
"I have given you all the information I have, my Lord."
"You are lying, and Lord Voldemort hates lying."
The spy's insides turned to ice as his master approached him like a snake stalking its prey.
"What is it you refuse to tell me, Severus? You know I will have this information eventually, you can choose to give it to me freely or suffer before you give it to me."
Severus knew he was trapped. What had betrayed him?
"My Lord, I... I have no further definite information to give you. I don't know what you mean. I'll only tell you what I think is worthy of interest and trust."
"What strikes you as worthy of interest? You are a loyal servant, Severus, but it is not for you to decide what is interesting and what is not, it seems to me."
"Yes, my Lord," he murmured, lowering his head.
“Well? This is the last time I'll ask you," Voldemort's cold voice hissed.
“I... Dumbledore thinks Potter is having some sort of... visions, and he's told Black about it. He's asked me to try and find out what it is," Severus murmured hastily, trying not to tell Voldemort the whole truth.
“And you don't think that's interesting information?" the Dark Lord asked, moving even closer to Severus.
“I think it's nonsense, we shouldn't be wasting our time with this sort of...”
“Well, Lord Voldemort finds it very interesting indeed. Harry Potter has visions? About what?”
“I don't know, he wants me to find out," Severus said breathlessly.
“Well, find out and tell me. Then I'll decide if it's worth finding out, it's not for you to judge.”
“Very well, my Lord," Severus said, bowing.
“I won't punish you this time, but don't you dare try to hide anything from me again. I want to know everything.”
Severus kept his head down, not believing his chances of getting away with half a lie and escaping the Cruciatus Curse. Voldemort moved away from him, leaving the room adjacent to the Malfoy drawing room where the meeting had taken place. The air slowly returned to Severus' lungs, and he quickly calmed down. He adjusted his mask and walked out after the Dark Lord, ignoring the stares. He managed to slip away quickly, apparating himself into Hogsmeade on his way back to Hogwarts. His mind distracted by his mistake, he apparated further away from his usual point and found himself drenched in rain before he knew it.
Reflecting on the evening and night he had just spent, Severus hurried to his personal quarters after casting a spell of disillusionment upon himself. He could not bear the thought of being discovered in Death Eater robes in the middle of the night and having to explain himself. Not even Dumbledore could get him out of such a situation. He decided to ask Dumbledore to help him find a way to go unnoticed when the Dark Lord called. Then he remembered that the Headmaster could practically fly around Hogwarts with his bloody bird. He certainly hadn't thought about Severus and the lengths he'd have to go to hide. He would need Potter's Invisibility Cloak more than the boy he was trying so hard to protect.
Fortunately, no one crossed his path and it was well past four in the morning when Severus collapsed on his bed, throwing off his Death Eater robes without bothering to fold them and put them in the wardrobe. Exceptionally, he threw it on the floor, along with his mask, and huddled under the covers, hoping to get a few hours sleep before he had to give his day's lessons. The last before Umbridge's inspection. With his legs drawn up towards him, his slender arms wrapped around his bony knees, Severus cursed himself for delivering the information about Potter's supposed 'visions' anyway. He buried his head in his cold pillow and cursed himself too for uttering Sirius Black's name. Why hadn't he just said that Potter had visions and that Dumbledore had asked him to find out what they were about? Severus had hoped with all his heart not to draw attention to Black, and now he had said his name in front of the Dark Lord. As he tucked himself under the covers, hugging himself to escape the difficult night he had just spent, Severus could not help but think of Black's embrace. The furtive image of the man's handsome face coming towards him and planting a kiss on his cheek flashed through his mind again and Severus fell asleep after a while, reluctantly imagining Black's muscular arms around him and his breath caressing his cheek.
The next day was extremely difficult. Severus awoke with no sense of rest. The looks he received from his colleagues assured him that he did not need to look in a mirror to know that the dark circles that had formed under his eyes were as black as his clothes. Nevertheless, he managed to give all his lessons, the tension in his stomach growing as the day wore on. What was Umbridge going to do in his class? Would she ask him questions? Intervene? Really exhausted, Severus went to bed early, thinking that he should ask Dumbledore for a meeting to tell him about the evening with the Death Eaters.
As the Fifth Years entered his classroom the next afternoon, they were followed by the person who had stolen his memories. Severus controlled his expression, determined not to be fooled by the pink toad-like woman.
“Professor Snape,” she simpered - and Severus had to suppress a gag – “did you receive my note informing you of the time and day of my inspection?”
The Potions Master merely nodded in the affirmative. Then he decided to follow McGonagall's advice and ignore her. She was sitting in a corner at the back of the classroom, and he could see her taking notes on a notepad, also pink. His students must have sensed the magical tension in the air because, unlike usual, they were relatively quiet, including the boisterous Gryffindors. The lesson went on almost as normal, and Severus was relieved to find that Umbridge's presence did not bother him as much as he had expected. Despite himself, Severus glanced at Potter and noticed that he was staring at him. The boy looked away as soon as Severus' eyes fell on him. Gritting his teeth, the Slytherin walked over to his table, ready to make some sarcastic comment about Potter's undoubtedly botched cauldron contents. He was just approaching when Umbridge's cough almost startled him. Without unclenching his teeth, Severus said in a low voice:
“Yes?”
“I was wondering, Professor Snape, how long you've been teaching at Hogwarts?”
Still without turning around, Severus replied:
“14 years.”
“You were appointed Professor at a very young age," the little girl's voice said from behind him.
Severus shrugged and continued towards Potter's cauldron, too late to turn back. He realised the whole class was listening.
“Have you always wanted to be a professor?" asked Umbridge.
Severus had now arrived at Potter's table. The boy was watching the exchange with interest, you could see it in his eyes.
“No," Severus replied in a low voice, still without loosening his teeth.
He leaned towards the Gryffindor cauldron, hoping to get Umbridge to leave, but to no avail.
“Why did you become a professor at such a young age?”
“Because the Headmaster asked me to," Severus replied resignedly.
“Did he have any particular reason?”
“The old Potions Master had retired, and I suppose the Headmaster remembered my... talents.”
He hoped that would be enough. It wasn't all a lie.
“Professor Snape, would you be so nice to look at me when I'm talking to you?" came the high voice behind him.
Severus turned abruptly, his black robes flying around him. He tried to control his anger.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“Well, I think it's more polite to look at the person you're talking to," Umbridge said, giving him an ugly smile.
Severus knew she could see the disgust in his face.
“Very well, that's better," she continued. “What did you do after you left Hogwarts? Before you became a professor, I mean.”
“I don't think that's any of your business or has anything to do with this class," he replied in a low voice, feeling a certain heat in his cheeks.
“Look at this! It's important for my evaluation, Professor Snape, after all, it's my duty to study your teaching abilities.”
The Slytherin could feel the anger bubbling up inside him. As if she was capable of understanding anything about the art of making potions!
“Well, in that case, ask me about my lessons instead of prying into my private life.”
For a moment, he was tempted to regret his words, but the look of shock on Umbridge's face gave him such satisfaction that he allowed himself to savour his small victory for a few moments. However, he had to be more careful and not lose his temper. He saw the horrible woman scribble something in her notebook and look at him again, her ugly smile back on her face. The whole class was now focused on the exchange rather than the cauldrons.
“It seems to me that you've always wanted to be Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, haven't you?”
“Yes," he said, almost in a whisper.
“But Dumbledore always turned you down?”
“Obviously.”
“And do you know why?”
“Why don't you go and ask him yourself, if you're so interested?”
“I wouldn't miss it," she smiled, a satisfied look on her face.
Severus knew he had blushed at that last exchange. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Potter and Weasley exchanging a look of satisfaction. He abandoned his idea of ridiculing Potter and felt an urgent need to be among his Slytherins, on friendly ground. But Umbridge wasn't done with him yet.
“Why do you insist on teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts?”
“It's obvious, isn't it?" replied Severus, his teeth still clenched so tightly they were beginning to hurt.
“I'd like to hear it," Umbridge purred.
“It seems to me that we want to teach what we're most interested in and what we're best at.”
“Oh, so you're more interested in Defence Against the Dark Arts than Potions, Professor?”
Severus looked her straight in the eye and gave her a murderous glare. He growled and saw Umbridge smiling at him like a toad about to swallow a juicy insect. He didn't answer.
“Perhaps you are more interested in the dark arts than in defending people against them?”
"Yes sometimes," Severus thought, "and you cannot imagine the things I would like to do to you.”
“And you, Professor Umbridge,” he replied instead. “Are you interested in the dark arts?”
Umbridge lost her composure for a moment. Severus felt his heart quicken, the exchange becoming personal, and as the dreadful woman looked into Severus' eyes, it was clear she knew that he knew.
“The forces of evil have long ceased to exist in Britain," she exclaimed. “But it's still important to learn the theories, to know what to do in case of danger.”
"That's not true!" shouted Potter's voice behind them.
Severus turned and glared at the idiot, telling him without words to stay quiet. The boy looked as angry as Severus.
"Potter," Umbridge said in his small, delicate voice, "you're going to have another detention!"
"I don't think I gave you permission to give detentions in my class," Severus couldn't contain himself. "And Potter, shut up or I'll have to give you one, and I have no desire to spend any more time in your company than necessary."
The boy glared at him but said nothing.
“Snape," Umbridge said, omitting her title, "I give detentions to whomever I want, whenever I want.”
She tapped the High Inquisitor badge pinned to her chest.
“Come to my office on Friday evening and continue the work you've already started," she said to Potter.
Severus almost felt sorry for the boy. He was right and he was being tortured for daring to speak the truth. But at the same time, he could have just kept his mouth shut and been patient instead of trying to be the hero all the time. Severus made a mental note to check the state of the boy's hand after the detention, if the wound was open, he could remind Black of his advice to heal it.
Severus abruptly turned on his heels and headed towards the Slytherins.
“What would you have liked to have done if you hadn't been Potions Master, Snape?," the girlish voice behind him continued.
“I suppose I'd have researched the art of Potions," he grumbled. “I've never had to think about it since I've always been at this school.”
“For now," she smiled. “Perhaps you should start thinking about it!”
This was too much for Severus. He controlled the anger in his tone, but all his blood seemed to boil with rage. He had sworn he would not allow himself to be humiliated.
“Do you really think you're in a position to tell me what to do? This inspection is over. Get out of here.”
He had not raised his voice. Severus could feel his magic pulsing through him and his wand flashed a few sparks. Umbridge jumped and began writing furiously in her pink notebook.
“It's not up to you...”
“Leave immediately, this lesson is over," Severus cut her off.
“You should see Madam Pomfrey, Snape, your temper needs controlling! Did you get those ugly scars in a rage too? Did someone hurt you to control you?”
How dare she! Severus reached into his pocket for his wand, his vision slightly blurred by the overflow of oxygen coursing through his body. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he was sure he wanted to hurt Umbridge, to get revenge. The bell rang at the exact moment his thoughts were forming in his head. The woman gave him the smile of a toad satiated after a succulent meal.
“You'll have the results of my inspection within two weeks, Snape. Perhaps it's time to start considering giving your failed potion-making career another try.”
With that, she turned and left the classroom. Severus found himself standing in front of his students, who seemed petrified.
“What are you waiting for to put your things away?" he barked. “I want two rolls of parchment on the rules and customs of time in preparing potions for next Monday!”
There was a hubbub, and everyone started to put their things away at once.
“Sir," Draco Malfoy's drawling voice rose above the clatter of chairs and incantations to empty cauldrons. “She can't sack you, can she? You're the Head of our House.”
“Rest assured, Mr Malfoy, I don't believe this intruder from the Ministry is in a position to do anything to me.”
The Slytherins, shocked by the exchange that had just taken place, seemed reassured for a moment. Severus was not at all sure what he was saying, but he did not want to lose face in front of his students. As the class cleared, he reluctantly admitted that he needed to see Dumbledore as soon as possible.