A one time thing {Severus Snape}

Chapter 4: Sinking Soufflé

Dean Rider sat quietly; his hands folded in his lap. He was sitting at the other end of the table to Snape and Meg. Well, where Meg should have been sitting, except it was half way through breakfast and there was still no sign of her.

Snape watched Rider closely but he seemed content with just a goblet of juice and a slice of toast, which was half eaten. Madam Hooch was talking animatedly to him; Dumbledore was listening and nodding along to her conversation.

Snape picked up his goblet of juice and raised it to his lips, never taking his eyes of the new professor.

He heard the swish of wings and knew that mail had arrived, he took his eyes of Rider as he watched the students receiving their mail; half of him was hoping that Neville had received another 'howler'. His eyes went to Potter and Weasley, who were pouring over a copy of the Daily Prophet. His lips curved into a sneer.

How he longed for the end of this year; he could finally see the back of that little trio.

A plop broke his thoughts as Meg's owl dropped a letter onto her empty plate.

He narrowed his eyes and picked it up, slipping it inside his robes. His eyes going back to Rider who was now watching him; Snape kept his face cold and unreadable and stood up.

He would take Professor Kincaid's letter to her; it would give him a chance to snoop a bit. See what the great mystery was. He'd also show her who the adult between them was. He would make no mention of what had gone before. Besides, his curiosity was up. Rider seemed normal enough; although Snape found the continual smoothing back of his hair annoying. But he figured it could be a sign of nerves. Goodness knows the thought of a class full of dunderheads was enough to make any man nervous. Any man except him, of course.

He left the great hall and made his way up to the staff quarters till he was outside the door that led to her rooms. He drew his robes around him tightly and knocked firmly.

There was no answer.

He knocked again and tried the door handle. It was locked still, from the outside.

His eyebrows went up, this wasn't right. Meg never missed the chance of food.

For an instant he wondered if perhaps her cordial had been too sweet, perhaps she was too ill for food. It would serve her right! He'd never met anyone who could eat the way she could.

He turned and went down to the dungeons; he didn't have a class till after lunch today, he would just make sure she was okay. No, not okay, he didn't mean okay; he would just make sure she was... about.

He stopped outside her classroom and stared. It was full of first year students who were enjoying the finer points of paper dart making. He slammed the door back on its hinges and glared at them. They hastily made it back to their seats and sat there.

He snorted; the ability of children to be able to look as if they had never even thought of playing up never ceased to amaze him.

"Where is, Professor Kincaid?" he demanded coldly.

No one moved, not one word was uttered as they all stared at the most feared Professor in the school. Fear evident on their faces.

"Well, come on, you there, Devlin, isn't it? Where is she?" he asked a lad from his own house.

"Er, she hasn't shown up yet," he stumbled on his words.

"Stay exactly as you are. One movement, one sound and points will be lost," he ordered and swept out of the room.

Stupid woman what was she doing now!

He crossed to her study door and knocked hard, trying the handle, but this time it was locked from the inside.