When Iris Finch is invited back to Hogwarts to take part in the new apprenticeship program, she never anticipated being paired with The Dungeon Bat.
A young and naive Hufflepuff, she is at the mercy of Severus Snape's temper, and eventually his des...
I trudged up the stairs to the headmaster's office, nervous energy coursing through me. The moment of truth was upon us. Though I had full confidence in my peers and students appreciated my efforts, I could not guarantee what Snape would have reported, especially given our new development to our soap opera-like story. Dramatics at every turn.
That Monday morning when I had come down to the dungeons Snape had treated me no different than he always did, though he seemed less harsh, a little more thoughtful before he began his tirade of insults. I'd look up and see him observing me, eyes searching like he was trying to piece together a complex puzzle. He'd quickly avert his inky gaze like it never happened and we'd continue our tasks.
It was no secret that the potion master and I had a rocky relationship. I knew from the beginning he despised my presence and had no wish to have me as his apprentice. I had worked hard and had seemed to win some sort of favor, but every time I took a step forward, I would take two steps back. I was exceptional at potions, skilled in running his classroom, prompt with my duties, and had successfully been tutoring students who had struggled in the subject. But nothing seemed good enough, and that drove me to the brink of madness. I could never please him.
We had so many unsavory moments together, and I feared the most recent one had been the one to finally put an end to our partnership. Maybe he decided he had enough and was ready to be rid of me. I wouldn't be surprised if he was looking for a way to unload his responsibilities of training me.
With a deep breath, I uttered the words to enter Dumbledore's office.
"Lemon drop." The words sounded so comical given the circumstances. Most people did not need entrance to the headmaster's office unless it was something serious. Maybe Dumbledore used it as a way to break the tension.
The door slowly slid open, revealing the cozy and scholarly room, the past headmasters having a hushed conversation in their portraits, a steaming cup of tea resting on the large oak desk among trinkets and intriguing paperweights. Dumbledore was such an inviting wizard to be around and his office reflected that.
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"Ms.Finch, thank you for joining me tonight." The elderly wizard stood, eyes twinkling behind his spectacles, his gray locks streaming almost to his elbow along with his beard.
"Yes thank you, headmaster," I said, sitting down in the chair across from his as he waved his wand, several files and pieces of parchment floating to sit in front of him.
"Now rest assured Ms.Finch, we have all been very impressed with your progress. Your start was a little rough, but considering your the only witch we have in our program, we anticipated the potential issues you could run into with the other gentlemen. Do you feel comfortable around them?"
Blushing at the thought of Dumbledore hearing about the issues that had ensued with the other apprentices, I tried to answer confidently, feeling vulnerable under his scrutiny. There was nothing negative in his countenance, but being the sole receiver of anyone's attention had always flustered me.
