Springfic: "Atonement" for istalksnape
Title: Atonement
Author: Alexajohnson
Recipient: istalksnape
Characters: Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore (cameo)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,695
Warnings (highlight to view): none
Summary: September, 1980. Severus Snape comes to teach at Hogwarts. AU, since after DH we know that Snape starts teaching after the events at Godric's Hollow. But for the purposes of this story, that timeline has been ignored.
Notes: Snape's opening speech is taken pretty much taken verbatim from Sorcerer's Stone, though because it seemed to me like he used the same introduction for all his new classes, I figured it had to start somewhere! I'm not quite sure how many of your requests I was able to fit in here, but I hope you like it anyway, istalksnape!
Beta: Many, many thanks to my wonderful beta virginia_bell, who kindly looked it over at the last minute for me. You are the greatest!
Atonement
"Albus, please tell me you're joking."
"I am very serious, my dear Minerva."
"I was afraid of that."
Though Albus Dumbledore rarely joked about anything this important, Minerva McGonagall was having a really hard time believing what she was hearing. The man was known for seeing the best in people and she usually approved, but this time really was too much.
And she knew she wasn't the only one who thought that.
Peering over at her from the top of his half-moon spectacles, he said, "There is nothing to be afraid of, I assure you-I would trust Severus with my life. But, if it would help assuage your reservations, you may sit in on his first week of classes. Maybe you could even give him some pointers."
Minerva stared at him.
What in Merlin's name was Albus thinking, letting a suspected Death Eater teach children?
And did he really just ask her for pointers, of all things?
Please try not to kill anyone.
"I can think of a few," she muttered, irritation growing as Albus merely twinkled infuriatingly at her.
"Really, Minerva, I do think you're overreacting. Severus Snape is no more of a Death Eater than I am," he said, though if he were trying to reassure her he'd just failed miserably.
She snorted. "Right. Well, we'll see about that."
Severus Snape knew he was being ridiculous, but that only made him angrier.
Here he was, nervous for his first day of teaching, when he faced the Dark Lord on a regular basis. These children were hardly threatening, and he'd made thorough lesson plans. But he remembered from his own days as a student-how far away that all seemed now-that few around him had any respect for the art of potion making, and he did not expect that to change.
As if on cue, raised voices alerted him to some sort of commotion in the classroom, and he groaned, wondering again what in Merlin's name he was thinking when he agreed to this. Checking his schedule, he saw that these were second year Gryffindors and Slytherins.
He smiled humorlessly.
At least some things didn't change.
Standing up abruptly, he took a final breath and threw open the side door in his office, striding purposefully into the classroom. A tense silence descended upon the dungeon, leaving two guilty perpetrators standing in the aisle, wands raised.
Folding his arms in the sleeves of his robes, he said quietly but imperiously, "There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class."
The students reluctantly took their seats on opposite sides of the room, continuing to glare at each other. He was about to continue when the back door opened and Minerva McGonagall stepped in, moving to the shadows to lean against the wall. So someone had been sent to observe him after all, he thought, resisting the urge to leer at her. Well, he would just have to ignore her for now.
Waiting until he was sure he had everyone's complete attention, he continued, "As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the exact art and subtle science that is potion making. But for the select few that possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."
Everyone's eyes were on him now, though he was sure the disinterest would spread again when he announced the lesson, which was to brew a simple sleeping drought.
"Today you will be making sleeping droughts, a relatively uncomplicated potion with obvious benefits. The instructions are on the board, all of the ingredients you will need are in the cupboards, and you must have completed a successful potion by the end of class or you will have to serve detention to make one. If I so much as see a wand out, I will take off points without a warning. You can start now."
Finally the period was over, and when everyone filed out of the classroom, Minerva McGonagall finally came up to his desk. For a moment, they just stared at each other, eyes slightly narrowed as they assessed the other.
After a weighted silence, she said through a forced smile, "Your opening speech was impressive, very gripping."
He sneered at her. "Come now, Minerva, I know you didn't choose to observe my class just to comment on my lecture. I know how you feel about me, so just say what you came to say so you can leave."
Pursuing her lips, she said coldly, "Very well. I see you are an able teacher, but though Albus may trust you, I do not, and his word is usually enough for me. Just know that I will be watching you carefully."
Suddenly feeling very weary, he let her leave without a retort, wondering how much more of this he would be able to take.
Minerva sat in on his classes for the rest of the week, and though there were times she thought he was too harsh and maybe docked more points off of Gryffindor than any other house, she saw nothing that confirmed her suspicions.
Most of the staff shared her doubts, but as young Severus proved to be a competent teacher, they'd come to the conclusion that maybe the rumors were just that, and Minerva finally came to terms with the fact that she'd been wrong.
Wanting to make amends, she headed down to his office some time after dinner and knocked sharply. After a long moment, the door creaked slowly open and Severus appeared, a disgruntled expression on his face.
"What do you want, Minerva?"
Sighing, she clasped her hands in front of her and said, "Well, to get right to the point, I came to say that I'd like to start over. I should not have judged you so harshly without proof, and I am sorry."
An inscrutable look on his face, he was about to respond when his features suddenly twisted into a pained expression.
Her concern was instinctive. "Severus? Are you all right?"
"Fine," he bit out, "but I need to go."
And he shut the door, leaving her feeling as though she'd just missed something important.
The next day, Albus informed her that Severus was unwell and that he would be teaching his classes.
Frowning deeply, Minerva said, "I saw him last night and he seemed in good shape to me."
"It was quite unexpected." Giving her a knowing smile, he added, "There is no need to worry however, for I am sure he will be up and about in no time."
She was more confused than worried, but figuring that her questions would be put to rest more easily if she saw Severus herself, she went to Madam Pomfrey during her free period, but instead of clearing up the mystery, the visit only added to it.
Poppy told her he had not been in all day, her puzzled look matching Minerva's own.
Thinking this was now getting slightly ridiculous, she headed down to Severus's office and banged on the door, determined to get some answers.
"What?"
Even through the door she heard the hoarseness in his voice, so perhaps there was some truth in the story after all. She remembered he had immense pride as a student, so perhaps he had not wanted Poppy to see him so vulnerable.
"I heard you were ill. I was coming to see how you were doing."
The moment stretched on until she figured he was ignoring her, and she'd just turned to leave when the door opened.
Well, he certainly looked as ill as he sounded, she thought as she studied his face. The skin beneath his eyes was slightly bruised and he was far paler than usual.
"Satisfied?" he demanded, lips curling with a sneer.
Ignoring his irritation, she asked, "Why haven't you been in to see Poppy?"
Rolling his eyes, he said, "I am a potions master. I'm perfectly capable of tending to myself."
"You would be more comfortable."
"I don't need comfort."
She wasn't sure why she couldn't let this go. Maybe it was her motherly instincts, or maybe it was because he just looked so forlorn to her that she simply couldn't help herself. His attitude didn't fool her, and she sensed that underneath the snark he really was a very lonely and insecure young man.
"Well, if there's anything I can do-"
"There isn't."
He sounded as tired as she'd ever heard him, and it saddened her that someone as young as Severus felt as old as she looked.
"Very well," she said, giving him a tight smile. "Get some rest."
He nodded at her, closing the door.
As she walked away, she thought that even if they never really became friends, she felt as though she understood him a little better. And maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to understand what it was that Albus saw in him.
He had been so certain that she'd figured out his secret, and though he was relieved, he wasn't exactly sure why.
Had a part of him actually wanted her to know?
And if so, why?
Was it because he'd wanted to hear her accusations and disgust instead of her concern, because that was what he deserved?
Dumbledore had offered him sanctuary, and in a fit of weakness he'd taken it. What was done could not be undone, and as much as he wished for things to be different, there was nothing he could do now except punish himself for the sins he had committed. Even spying on the Dark Lord was not going to be enough, and he rubbed at his left forearm, the Mark that was a constant reminder of his choices.
He snorted.
As if he needed one.
He did not need comfort because he did not deserve it, and he could not accept her concern because if she knew what he was, she would not be giving it.
Sleep did not come easily to him that night.
But then again, it never did.
FIN
Author: Alexajohnson
Recipient: istalksnape
Characters: Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore (cameo)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,695
Warnings (highlight to view): none
Summary: September, 1980. Severus Snape comes to teach at Hogwarts. AU, since after DH we know that Snape starts teaching after the events at Godric's Hollow. But for the purposes of this story, that timeline has been ignored.
Notes: Snape's opening speech is taken pretty much taken verbatim from Sorcerer's Stone, though because it seemed to me like he used the same introduction for all his new classes, I figured it had to start somewhere! I'm not quite sure how many of your requests I was able to fit in here, but I hope you like it anyway, istalksnape!
Beta: Many, many thanks to my wonderful beta virginia_bell, who kindly looked it over at the last minute for me. You are the greatest!
Atonement
"Albus, please tell me you're joking."
"I am very serious, my dear Minerva."
"I was afraid of that."
Though Albus Dumbledore rarely joked about anything this important, Minerva McGonagall was having a really hard time believing what she was hearing. The man was known for seeing the best in people and she usually approved, but this time really was too much.
And she knew she wasn't the only one who thought that.
Peering over at her from the top of his half-moon spectacles, he said, "There is nothing to be afraid of, I assure you-I would trust Severus with my life. But, if it would help assuage your reservations, you may sit in on his first week of classes. Maybe you could even give him some pointers."
Minerva stared at him.
What in Merlin's name was Albus thinking, letting a suspected Death Eater teach children?
And did he really just ask her for pointers, of all things?
Please try not to kill anyone.
"I can think of a few," she muttered, irritation growing as Albus merely twinkled infuriatingly at her.
"Really, Minerva, I do think you're overreacting. Severus Snape is no more of a Death Eater than I am," he said, though if he were trying to reassure her he'd just failed miserably.
She snorted. "Right. Well, we'll see about that."
Severus Snape knew he was being ridiculous, but that only made him angrier.
Here he was, nervous for his first day of teaching, when he faced the Dark Lord on a regular basis. These children were hardly threatening, and he'd made thorough lesson plans. But he remembered from his own days as a student-how far away that all seemed now-that few around him had any respect for the art of potion making, and he did not expect that to change.
As if on cue, raised voices alerted him to some sort of commotion in the classroom, and he groaned, wondering again what in Merlin's name he was thinking when he agreed to this. Checking his schedule, he saw that these were second year Gryffindors and Slytherins.
He smiled humorlessly.
At least some things didn't change.
Standing up abruptly, he took a final breath and threw open the side door in his office, striding purposefully into the classroom. A tense silence descended upon the dungeon, leaving two guilty perpetrators standing in the aisle, wands raised.
Folding his arms in the sleeves of his robes, he said quietly but imperiously, "There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class."
The students reluctantly took their seats on opposite sides of the room, continuing to glare at each other. He was about to continue when the back door opened and Minerva McGonagall stepped in, moving to the shadows to lean against the wall. So someone had been sent to observe him after all, he thought, resisting the urge to leer at her. Well, he would just have to ignore her for now.
Waiting until he was sure he had everyone's complete attention, he continued, "As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the exact art and subtle science that is potion making. But for the select few that possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."
Everyone's eyes were on him now, though he was sure the disinterest would spread again when he announced the lesson, which was to brew a simple sleeping drought.
"Today you will be making sleeping droughts, a relatively uncomplicated potion with obvious benefits. The instructions are on the board, all of the ingredients you will need are in the cupboards, and you must have completed a successful potion by the end of class or you will have to serve detention to make one. If I so much as see a wand out, I will take off points without a warning. You can start now."
Finally the period was over, and when everyone filed out of the classroom, Minerva McGonagall finally came up to his desk. For a moment, they just stared at each other, eyes slightly narrowed as they assessed the other.
After a weighted silence, she said through a forced smile, "Your opening speech was impressive, very gripping."
He sneered at her. "Come now, Minerva, I know you didn't choose to observe my class just to comment on my lecture. I know how you feel about me, so just say what you came to say so you can leave."
Pursuing her lips, she said coldly, "Very well. I see you are an able teacher, but though Albus may trust you, I do not, and his word is usually enough for me. Just know that I will be watching you carefully."
Suddenly feeling very weary, he let her leave without a retort, wondering how much more of this he would be able to take.
Minerva sat in on his classes for the rest of the week, and though there were times she thought he was too harsh and maybe docked more points off of Gryffindor than any other house, she saw nothing that confirmed her suspicions.
Most of the staff shared her doubts, but as young Severus proved to be a competent teacher, they'd come to the conclusion that maybe the rumors were just that, and Minerva finally came to terms with the fact that she'd been wrong.
Wanting to make amends, she headed down to his office some time after dinner and knocked sharply. After a long moment, the door creaked slowly open and Severus appeared, a disgruntled expression on his face.
"What do you want, Minerva?"
Sighing, she clasped her hands in front of her and said, "Well, to get right to the point, I came to say that I'd like to start over. I should not have judged you so harshly without proof, and I am sorry."
An inscrutable look on his face, he was about to respond when his features suddenly twisted into a pained expression.
Her concern was instinctive. "Severus? Are you all right?"
"Fine," he bit out, "but I need to go."
And he shut the door, leaving her feeling as though she'd just missed something important.
The next day, Albus informed her that Severus was unwell and that he would be teaching his classes.
Frowning deeply, Minerva said, "I saw him last night and he seemed in good shape to me."
"It was quite unexpected." Giving her a knowing smile, he added, "There is no need to worry however, for I am sure he will be up and about in no time."
She was more confused than worried, but figuring that her questions would be put to rest more easily if she saw Severus herself, she went to Madam Pomfrey during her free period, but instead of clearing up the mystery, the visit only added to it.
Poppy told her he had not been in all day, her puzzled look matching Minerva's own.
Thinking this was now getting slightly ridiculous, she headed down to Severus's office and banged on the door, determined to get some answers.
"What?"
Even through the door she heard the hoarseness in his voice, so perhaps there was some truth in the story after all. She remembered he had immense pride as a student, so perhaps he had not wanted Poppy to see him so vulnerable.
"I heard you were ill. I was coming to see how you were doing."
The moment stretched on until she figured he was ignoring her, and she'd just turned to leave when the door opened.
Well, he certainly looked as ill as he sounded, she thought as she studied his face. The skin beneath his eyes was slightly bruised and he was far paler than usual.
"Satisfied?" he demanded, lips curling with a sneer.
Ignoring his irritation, she asked, "Why haven't you been in to see Poppy?"
Rolling his eyes, he said, "I am a potions master. I'm perfectly capable of tending to myself."
"You would be more comfortable."
"I don't need comfort."
She wasn't sure why she couldn't let this go. Maybe it was her motherly instincts, or maybe it was because he just looked so forlorn to her that she simply couldn't help herself. His attitude didn't fool her, and she sensed that underneath the snark he really was a very lonely and insecure young man.
"Well, if there's anything I can do-"
"There isn't."
He sounded as tired as she'd ever heard him, and it saddened her that someone as young as Severus felt as old as she looked.
"Very well," she said, giving him a tight smile. "Get some rest."
He nodded at her, closing the door.
As she walked away, she thought that even if they never really became friends, she felt as though she understood him a little better. And maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to understand what it was that Albus saw in him.
He had been so certain that she'd figured out his secret, and though he was relieved, he wasn't exactly sure why.
Had a part of him actually wanted her to know?
And if so, why?
Was it because he'd wanted to hear her accusations and disgust instead of her concern, because that was what he deserved?
Dumbledore had offered him sanctuary, and in a fit of weakness he'd taken it. What was done could not be undone, and as much as he wished for things to be different, there was nothing he could do now except punish himself for the sins he had committed. Even spying on the Dark Lord was not going to be enough, and he rubbed at his left forearm, the Mark that was a constant reminder of his choices.
He snorted.
As if he needed one.
He did not need comfort because he did not deserve it, and he could not accept her concern because if she knew what he was, she would not be giving it.
Sleep did not come easily to him that night.
But then again, it never did.
FIN