Chapter 1
Professor Severus Snape, Potions and senior Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, strode into his first class of the new school year in a cloud of billowing black robes, silently cursing whichever dunderhead had scheduled a first year Slytherin/Gryffindor Potions lesson first thing on a Monday morning.
"Wands away! Textbook open to page 76!" he barked, somewhat satisfied by the alacrity with which they followed his instructions.
"Your first potion in this class will be a cure for boils - a simple, but useful, medicinal concoction. Instructions are on the board, and you have one hour to complete the potion and place a vial on my desk. Refer to your textbook in the first instance should you have any difficulties with these instructions."
The boils cure was a simple potion which should be relatively fool-proof, or so he had thought until Longbottom had melted his cauldron during this lesson some 12 years earlier. Nevertheless, Severus relaxed slightly when he realised that this lot of dunderheads actually seemed to be able to follow simple instructions. Although...
"Mr Digby, would you care to explain exactly why you felt the need to bring a walking contaminant into a Potions classroom?" The boy, a young Gryffindor, looked nervously at the Kneazle kitten perched on his shoulder.
"Erm..."
"As I thought." Severus scowled at the student - honestly, they get tinier every year - and snapped. "10 points from Gryffindor and a detention, Mr Digby, and should you wish to bring your pet into my class in future I would remind you that Kneazles yield several valuable potions ingredients." The threat was implicit in his tone, and the young student gulped audibly.
"Yes, Professor."
The class lost some of its tension, and the students quietly – no, silently – went back to their potion preparations. Satisfied, Severus returned to his desk at the front of the class, surreptitiously rubbing his throat.
Whilst he had recovered remarkably well from Nagini's bite - saved initially by the tolerance his body had built up towards toxins through his Potions work, and then by the quick actions of Poppy Pomfrey - his throat still troubled him from time to time, especially when he became aggravated. Five years on from the end of the war, he had learned to live with the slight discomfort and the huskiness in his voice when he was especially tired.
The years since the war had been kind to Severus Snape. Fully expecting to die at some point in the final confrontation with Voldemort, he had given himself over to Nagini's bite with a relatively light heart, especially once he’d realised that Potter had his memories and would act on them accordingly. Waking up in the hospital wing with Poppy hovering over him had been something of a shock, to say the least. Reeling at the sudden freedom from his double life, he spent several weeks recovering in seclusion in his old quarters at Hogwarts, slowly rekindling his tentative friendships with the other staff and considering what to do with his unexpected future.
Within two minutes of seeing Minerva for the first time, he had officially resigned as Headmaster. Minerva's promotion to Headmistress was announced by the Board of Governors a few days later, and she had offered him the position of Deputy Headmaster and asked him to resume his Potions position, as well as teaching senior Defence Against the Dark Arts. He had agreed, but turned down the other part of her offer - he felt no need to return as Head of Slytherin House, given the animosity that would surely be directed at him from members of that House after his perceived betrayal of many of their principles.
The Headmistress had continued to teach Transfiguration on top of her other duties, and, in light of the staff shortage, several of the other teachers had each taken on one level of the DADA curriculum. Thankfully, after two years of that chaos Minerva had hired Hermione Granger, deeming her to be well qualified to take on both Transfiguration and DADA up to OWL level.
Honestly, Severus couldn't disagree with Minerva's choice. Granger was well qualified for the Transfiguration position, having completed her mastery within 2 years of the end of the war, and no-one was going to suggest that she was unqualified to teach DADA. The girl - no, woman now, he corrected himself - had experienced more in the real world of Defence than many of her predecessors in the position, and Severus had found that the students who had progressed to sixth year DADA since she had started teaching had been more than adequately instructed. He could even grudgingly admit to himself that she was not particularly onerous to deal with as a member of the staff, always unfailingly courteous when they interacted. He had thought she was mocking him to begin with, until he realised that she behaved that way towards all of their colleagues. After that, they had settled into a comfortable, if still formal, working relationship.
Not that they were friends. Nor was he exactly close with many of the other staff, even five years on from the end of the war. It was habit more than anything that had seen him resume his solitary ways, although he made a point of attending most meals and engaging the other staff in conversation. Regardless, even though he was not happy exactly, he was more content than he had been in many, many years.
Yes, the years since the war had been kind.
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Professor Hermione Granger, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sat placidly in front of her first class for the new year - first year Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw Transfiguration. She would never admit it to Ron and Harry, who were still both fiercely proud of their House, but Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were always a pleasure to teach, and she always particularly enjoyed the first-year classes as the students opened their eyes to the wonderful things they could accomplish with magic.
"Good morning, and welcome to Transfiguration. I am Professor Granger, and I will be teaching you in this subject and Defence Against the Dark Arts.
"Now, what can you tell me about Transfiguration?"
She led the students through some basic questions in order to determine their understanding so far, then set them to their first task - transfiguring a needle from a matchstick. Not that she necessarily expected much from them on their first attempt.
She smiled thinking back to her first classes, some twelve years ago - years that had gone by far too quickly. Six years at Hogwarts, one on the run with Harry and Ron. She'd always planned to go back to Hogwarts after the war to finish her seventh year of schooling, but amongst the countless letters of gratitude and support from the public in the weeks after the Final Battle had been a note from one of Minerva's contacts in France, offering her a Transfiguration apprenticeship in Paris. Hermione had jumped at the opportunity, both to get a head start on her post-school training and to escape the constant publicity.
Ron - Ron had understood. And with surprising maturity, he had realised that life was pulling them in different directions and that their fledgling relationship would not survive. They had taken the step back to friendship, and both he and Hermione knew that he had made the right call. A week later she was in Paris, and not long after that he was touring the US with the Chudley Cannons. He was now happily married to Angelina Johnson, now a Chaser for the Harpies. In a move that surprised no-one, Harry had proposed to Ginny a few weeks after the Final Battle, and they were expecting their second child.
Hermione had finished her apprenticeship in two years rather than the usual three, both completing a research project and obtaining her Animagus form - a wolf, surprisingly. Before the ink was dry on her mastery certificate Minerva had owled her, practically begging her to accept a teaching position.
She had accepted readily. Whilst teaching wasn't necessarily what she had planned as a career, it was a good position, and allowed her enough time to continue some research independently. Not to mention that the Hogwarts library was without peer. She had settled in quickly, and teaching two subjects to OWL level had provided more of an intellectual challenge than she had anticipated. The three years since then had passed swiftly, and Hermione realised that she was content there. Not happy necessarily - she was still haunted by her memories of the war, and she wasn't as close to Ron and Harry as she would have liked. But she enjoyed her job, and she certainly wasn't lacking for friends at Hogwarts.
Most of her old professors were still teaching, although Pomona Sprout had gone into semi-retirement, leaving Neville Longbottom to teach Herbology to all but the NEWT students. He was, from all accounts, a wonderful teacher, and Hermione was glad to have company her own age.
She was also grateful for her friendship with Minerva. They shared the Transfiguration teaching duties and a love of good tea, and they had become quite close. As for the other subject she co-taught - well, she got along well enough with Severus, although she doubted they would ever be friends. When she had returned from France he had always addressed her with biting sarcasm, and she had thought he disliked her until she realised he spoke to all of their peers like that. Which, of course, didn't necessarily mean that he didn't dislike her, but at least he disliked all of the staff equally. Hermione smirked a little at the thought.
Looking briefly at her pocket watch, she realised that class had less than two minutes remaining. Wandering around the class, she saw that – as expected – most of the students had made little progress, although some of the matchsticks had developed sharp points or a slight silver sheen.
“Thank you, students; this was an excellent first attempt. For homework, please complete an eight-inch essay on the theory of transfiguration of metals.” The students all stood quietly – no, silently – and left the classroom. Hermione frowned slightly. She rarely encountered bad behaviour in her classes, but even for first years on their first day, silence was a little strange. She made a mental note to ask the other teachers if they had noticed anything odd and put it from her mind as she made her way to the DADA classroom for her next class.
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Hermione’s worries deepened during the rest of the day, as she taught class after class of silent students. The other staff confirmed that they had also had unusually quiet classes, with students only answering direct questions and otherwise not speaking at all. Yet lunch and dinner in the Great Hall had been typically boisterous. Weird.
After dinner, she made her way to Severus’s office to discuss the DADA curriculum. They had changed several topics around during the summer holidays and were putting the final touches on the lesson schedule for the year. She noticed as she walked in that there was a student sitting to one side of the desk, working studiously on an essay.
“Bit early for detention isn’t it, Professor Snape?”
Severus smirked slightly. “This young housemate of yours deemed fit to bring a Kneazle into my classroom. I thought it… prudent… to educate the boy in the use of Kneazle ingredients in potion-making.” He looked at her thoughtfully.
“In fact, Professor Granger, I seem to remember you being quite adequate at potions during your schooling – perhaps you could instruct young Mr Digby in this area?”
“Well,” she started, taking a seat across from the other professor and trying not to get flustered by his hint of implied praise, “the main uses of Kneazles in potions usually involve fur, blood or saliva. However, I’ve read about at least two potions that include Kneazle teeth, and there is some experimental work on the use of Kneazle eyes in stasis potions.”
Severus nodded, and looked at the young student menacingly. “Have you learnt your lesson about pets in my classroom?” The boy nodded quickly.
“Good. Now, back to your dormitory.”
The boy stood up to leave and started to walk towards the door.
“Wait.”
He turned back to Hermione, who was looking at him thoughtfully.
“Perhaps, before you go, you could answer a question for me?”
The boy nodded, still silent.
“Do you know why everyone has been so quiet today?”
Digby froze, then looked between the two professors in a slight panic.
Severus scowled at the boy. “I believe Professor Granger asked you a question, Mr Digby.”
The boy swallowed, then put his hand in his pocket, pulling out a small device that looked somewhat similar to a miniature Muggle mobile phone.
“It’s the Conversator, a Weasley Wizarding Wizards invention. Lets us all talk with each other without teachers noticing.”
Severus held out his hand for the Conversator, grimacing as he realised that the device was slightly slimy. Probably bloody Kneazle saliva. Turning it over in his hands, he frowned.
“How does it work? I can’t hear any other conversations going on.”
Digby shook his head. “It has to be customised to the owner, so you can’t listen to conversations you aren’t invited to. And you don’t really hear them, it’s more like they happen in your head.”
Hermione looked at the device in awe. “Got to hand it to George, his products are a nuisance, but they’re amazing.” As she spoke, she reached over and touched the Conversator, accidentally touching Severus’ hand at the same time.
The resulting explosion threw both professors across the room in opposite directions. The last thing Severus saw as the world faded to black was himself, slumped against the far wall.