Hell's Last Lantern | A Severus Snape x OC Romance

Chapter Four

"Yeah, well, I needed the experience. I just got my certification for Master Potioneer a few months ago but I wanted to get some practical experience under my belt. I heard you were still here at Hogwarts after all these years and thought it would be a great opportunity to reconnect with an old friend in the meantime." His face burst into an amiable smile that made Snape's jaw tighten in annoyance. He couldn't let on the full extent of his and Dumbledore's suspicions though, so he bit his tongue.

"I see. Well, I suppose we ought to take the afternoon to familiarize you with the classroom and the course load." He pulled out his class schedule and began to go through the upcoming weeks.

Griggor had not arrived until a couple of days after the Start-of-Term feast, citing "unexpected delays". This irritated Snape further because not only did he have to train him last minute, but he would have to do so with what little spare time he had between and after classes. If Dumbledore didn't have some ulterior interest in Sharpp's employment, Snape wondered if he'd have been so lenient.

'Probably. Merlin knows he's been lenient with Hagrid.'  His brow furrowed a little when remembering that while Dumbledore said he had sent Hagrid to recruit some fellow giants to the order, Snape suspected another of his intentions was to keep Hagrid away for the term due to the new High Inquisitor's prejudice against non-pureblood beings. They knew that Hagrid had been expelled from Hogwarts as a student and was known for engaging in shady dealings in Knockturn Alley and public drunkenness. Dumbledore must also have realized that having Hagrid around was unwise because of his lack of tact and control of his tongue. He was a loose cannon, and having him around Ministry officials was trouble waiting to happen.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Snape swept across the classroom to a little supply closet on the left side of the room. "This houses basic potions for minor incidents, like when an idiotic Hufflepuff finds it judicious to try a sip of the aging solution they've brewed and turns ninety-seven in the middle of class." His brows raised in an irritated, lazy sort of way. "You'd find a cure for that here, along with other antidotes and anti-venoms, ointments, bandages and the like."

Snape struggled to fight the prickling of irritation surging to the surface of his skin at having to pretend a literal Death Eater would ever have any need for potions that could cure a child that wasn't a pureblood, like half the students in this school. He abruptly turned to the cauldrons and beakers and gave Griggor a quick review of classroom supplies. After a half hour of explaining the course load, which students were insufferable little shits to be on guard with, and what Griggor's duties would be as an aide, they parted ways and Snape retired to his office for the remainder of the evening.

He slumped into the creaky chair behind his desk and leaning his head back, he exhaled a loaded sigh and closed his eyes. He needed a new desk chair. His mind's eye fixated on her again, the way her hair looked in the evening rays, the way her smile made his heart leap, and his chest tightened in longing.

Had she...noticed the way he looked at her at the pub? He felt a surge of humiliation mingled with desire promptly fill his chest at the thought.

He became painfully aware that he would need to put considerable distance between himself and Miss Clemens. He sat up and opened his eyes, forcing his mind elsewhere. He wouldn't think about the girl for the rest of the evening. He was determined not to.

He reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and withdrew a flask of a 50-year Glenfiddich that was a Christmas gift from Lucius. It was no doubt a degradation of the expensive whisky to remove it from its intricate glass bottle and rehouse it to the cheap aluminum flask he bought off a vendor in Diagon Alley when he was sixteen. But the flask made it possible to keep it on hand for after exceedingly brain-numbing interactions with his annoying students.