The Wrong Side Of The Bed
February 15th, 08:33
Snape’s POV:
Severus woke up later than usual, as evidenced by the sounds of students walking in the corridor. As he tried to rise, a pounding headache made itself known. He fumbled through the Potions in his drawer, locating a Headache Reliever. He managed to rise from his bed after downing the Potion. Finding a cup nearby, he cast Aguamenti and swallowed the water, relieving his parched throat.
Stumbling over to the mirror, he was appalled at his unkempt appearance. Someone could be forgiven for thinking he hadn’t changed his clothes in a week, he thought. His hair was still sticking straight up from his head and hadn’t been flattened from sleep.
Remembering the items that made it through his wards, he stumbled over to the door. A quick Revelio revealed the wards weren’t up. In fact, they hadn’t been up since yesterday morning. He hadn’t taken them down, none of the other Professors visited him yesterday, and he doubted any of the students knew how to remove the wards. Dismissing it as an act of drunken stupidity, he put the wards back.
Severus rushed out the door with ten spare minutes to get to the Great Hall after failing to locate a new set of robes. He cast charms on yesterday’s clothes to get rid of as many wrinkles as possible. Slipping in through the Staff Entrance, he forgot to check around his seat for owls or for guests seated at the High Table (which was unnecessary this morning, he was happy to notice).
Pomona strolled past as he started tucking into the scrambled eggs (his hangover-curing food of choice).
“How are Ms Bones and Ms Abbott doing,” Severus enquired. She turned towards him, frowning.
“What are you talking about?” she pried. He also frowned, confused.
“In the Hospital Wing last night. You weren’t there, so I left them on a bed with a note.”
“When did this happen?” Poppy wondered.
“A few minutes before nine.”
“I wasn’t there because Ms Abbott came to me a little before quarter to nine. She told me someone had injured themselves in the Astronomy Tower. When I arrived, there was nobody there. I suspected she had pranked me, so I went to bed.”
Poppy walked to her seat, leaving him unsure whether he had brought the two females to the Hospital Wing at all or if it had been a dream. Since he had dismissed Ms Patil early due to Mr Weasley’s problem, it couldn’t have been a dream. Speaking of which, Severus had forgotten to send Mr Weasley the antidote in his haste to not be late for Breakfast.
Minerva sat beside him, drawing him from his thoughts.
“It seems there’s trouble in paradise already,” she commented. At his look of confusion, she motioned towards the students. It took him a few seconds to understand what she was talking about. Mr Potter and Draco, who just yesterday couldn’t keep their hands or lips off each other, were back to sitting at their previous spots. Mr Weasley also appeared to have gotten over his fight with Mr Potter: the two were talking normally, and Pansy was seated beside Draco.
Severus was confused. It was as if yesterday hadn’t happened, he contemplated.
“I’ve never seen the dynamics of a year group change so swiftly,” he commented. Minerva nodded.
“I agree. Highly unusua-,” she paused, then put her face in her hands and sighed, “Turn around”.
“What?” he asked, confused by the non sequitur.
“Severus. Turn around,” she repeated, head still in her hand. He turned and let out a string of curses so foul, Minerva lifted her head and several other Professors tutted in disapproval.
He didn’t care. He was more concerned about the owl beside him, a letter tied to its raised leg. It was a small consolation to him that it wasn’t pink and heart-shaped. He inched his hand towards the bird, who gazed nonplussed at him. When he untied the letter from the owl’s leg, it screeched at him and flew over to Draco, who petted it and offered it some food from his plate.
Turning his attention back to the innocuous-looking letter, although his tests showed nothing wrong with it, Severus still treated it like he would treat a Potion about to explode. He held it as far from himself as possible with his wand clenched in his other hand, ready to cast whatever spell necessary.
“Oh, give it here,” exclaimed Minerva when it became apparent he had no intention of opening the letter. She snatched the letter off him, ignoring his protests. After a quick scan of the letter, she handed it back.
“It’s safe,” Minerva assured him, “it’s from the 8th year students”.
“All of them?” he asked. She glanced at the letter again and nodded.
“Why are they writing to-?”
“I don’t know,” Minerva bit out, annoyed, “I didn’t read the whole thing. Just the top and bottom lines. Read it yourself if you want to know more”. She stood and left the High Table.
Turning his attention back to the open letter, Severus held it up.
Dear Sir,
We noticed you seemed to have had an eventful day yesterday. We hope that all your experiences were enjoyable and you were pleased to get all those love letters from witches and wizards who live across the country.
With our sincere hopes that you had a wonderful Valentine’s Day yesterday.
Regards,
DM, PP, BZ, TB, SB, HA, PP, PP, LB, HG, RW, HP.
He put down the letter, one question in his head. How did they know some of the letters he received were from wizards? After he had gotten over the shock of receiving so many letters that spouted abysmal poetry, he had cast a Silencio on all of them. It was only after reading them before burning them he had learned a few were written by wizards. Severus knew all the letters which had been talking before he shut them up had been from witches.
Bringing him back to the question of how they knew something they shouldn’t. It could have been a guess, but he doubted it. Which left him with one option.
“Albus, could I borrow your Pensieve for an hour or so?” he inquired, turning around.
“Certainly, but may I ask why you wish to use it?” pried Albus.
“No, you may not,” he responded, leaving the High Table.
Draco’s POV:
He watched Professor Snape walk in with minutes to spare. His distraction was evident because he didn’t perform his usual (or usual since after Breakfast yesterday) mealtime routine of checking for owls. Therefore, he missed Draco’s owl, which was on the opposite side. He knew that Professor Snape was recovering from a hangover due to his meal of scrambled eggs.
He tried to overhear Madam Pomfrey’s conversation with Professor Snape, but he was seated too far away. The only thing he gathered was that the conversation hadn’t helped Professor Snape clear up whatever he had been confused about. He watched McGonagall sit and make a remark which Professor Snape glanced out over the Hall in response to. Based on his gaze at the 8th year students, Draco guessed the comment may have been about how everyone had reverted to their usual seating places.
Although he wasn’t McGonagall’s biggest fan, he would have been quite happy to kiss her at the moment. He saw her glance over Professor Snape’s shoulder and spot the owl. After a few sentences between the two of them, Professor Snape turned around. Draco had to laugh at the curses Professor Snape uttered at the sight of his owl. After taking too long, McGonagall snatched it from Professor Snape’s hand.
He frowned. This wasn’t part of the plan, he thought. He sighed, relieved when she gave it back to Professor Snape after a few seconds, who must have said something to annoy her as McGonagall left the High Table shortly after.
They had debated earlier this morning about whether to send the letter. Some were in favour. Others thought Professor Snape would be more likely to work out what they had done to him by sending the letter. In the end, more people voted in favour of sending the letter. As Draco watched Professor Snape talk to the Headmaster before leaving the High Table, he regretted voting in favour of sending the letter.
How could he have forgotten Professor Snape’s anger, once roused, could rage for days, and his punishments made a whipping look like a pleasant afternoon in comparison?
Snape’s POV:
Standing in the Headmaster’s office, looking down at the Pensieve, Severus raised his wand to his temples and removed a memory, placing it in the Pensieve. He repeated the manoeuvre a few more times, removing all of his memories of the previous day. He dipped his head in, allowing the memories to play out.
He saw a hysterical Pansy hugging him, her hand slipping around to the back of his head, removing a few hairs, exiting and falling against the door frame, placing her hand on the exact spot to remove his wards, whispering the correct phrase.
He watched as owls mobbed him at Breakfast with love letters, as the looks of surprise and amusement crossed the student’s faces, noting the lack of surprise on the 8th year student’s faces.
Severus gazed at himself, walking towards the arguing Slytherin Quidditch team, as the Seeker turned towards him, watched the look of surprise cross his face when the Seeker was revealed to be Ms Granger.
He noticed the lack of force used in the fight between Mr Weasley and Mr Potter, noted Mr Boots dropping the Boomslang Skin a second before Mr Weasley fell against him. He glimpsed Ms Granger, pointing her wand at Ms Patil at the point when he remembered noticing Ms Patil’s dilated eyes.
Severus watched as Lockhart entered the Great Hall through the Staff door; his features appeared to settle. He watched as, after the duel, Lockhart’s hair started turning black as he was exiting the Great Hall.
He realised as he watched himself rise from the House Tables, the numbers of himself matched the number of 8th-year students who usually sat at each table.
He noted the speed at which Ms Abbott and Ms Bones fainted when they saw him, watched how uncaring Mr Weasley appeared when he left without the antidote, remembered the owl that delivered the sex toys was a favourite of Pansy when she had to use a school owl.
As Severus rose from the Pensieve and placed his memories back in his head, he fumed.
Everything that happened to him yesterday wasn’t the result of a collection of bad things in one day. It was the cause of the 8th year students. They did this to him deliberately!!
Well, then, he fumed to himself, if they don’t mind doing things to make my day miserable, they won’t complain if I return the favour.
General POV:
As they were getting ready to leave the Great Hall for their first class, Parvati pointed to Snape, who was coming towards them. His face was blank, showing nothing. Draco reckoned he’d figured out they were behind all his problems yesterday. Hermione mused Snape would hide his emotions, no matter the reason for him walking over to them, so they should wait and see what happened.
No one was happy with her suggestion, but they went along with it since it was the best of a bad bunch. All of them turned towards Snape, who had reached them.
“Hello, Professor Snape,” they chorused.
“Did you have an enjoyable Valentine’s yesterday?” he responded, making the students more confused as to his reasons for talking to them.
“Em… yes, Sir,” Blaise finally answered. There was a long pause. Snape continued to stare at them.
“... How was yours, Professor?” Harry enquired. Snape turned towards him.
“Abysmal. But, you all know that having seen everything happen to me,” he responded. Ron turned to Hannah. If he knows why is he so calm?, he mouthed. She shrugged.
“However, I know today is going to be much better than yesterday,” he continued, ignoring Lavender turning to Susan in confusion, “would you like to know why?”
There was a chorus of “Yes”, Yes Sir”, and “Sure”.
“I know it will be better because I’m going to give you all detention for the rest of the year for making a fool out of a Professor. Every night, three hours, cleaning the Castle, without magic. How does that sound?” he smirked, obviously pleased with himself.
A week later, fed up with cleaning the dirtiest corners of the Castle, when younger students asked if they would do it all again, knowing they would get caught, their responses were immediate and precisely the same.
Yes!
Críochnaithe