A little fluffy sort of story where Snape gets a chance to meet his potential?
NOT ANGST. I deserve a medal. Or something.
At every meal, Albus Dumbledore looked out into the sea of
faces, gently prodding his way into each and every child’s memories. He didn’t like doing it; didn’t particularly
want to do it – but he recognised that had he taken more care with Tom Riddle,
then Myrtle Warren wouldn’t have died, and Rubeus Hagrid wouldn’t have been
unfairly maligned for such a long period.
He couldn’t do much about Myrtle, the poor soul, but at
least Hagrid had finally been allowed to resume his magical education. For most teenage boys it would’ve been
mortifying to be several years older than their classmates, towering high above
them with plenty of facial hair and a far deeper voice… But then, Hagrid did all of those things when
he was in the right year, so it was of no real importance. Hagrid was so pleased to have been
exonerated, nothing could dampen his spirit.
And Tom? Well, Albus
Dumbledore had no tears left to shed for Tom.
It was a pity that one with such rare and powerful talent was extinguished
at such a young age – but Dumbledore and Fudge and Crouch had seen it all
before; had witnessed the rise of Grindelwald on the continent, and they weren’t
about to stand aside idly and watch as it happened in Britain.
Not by that slip of a boy.
Still, it hadn’t felt right to be part of the mission to
hunt him down. It hadn’t felt right to
be the one to hold him whilst the aurors executed him. It hadn’t felt right, but Dumbledore knew it
was. He’d promised himself never to let
another dark wizard dominate the wizarding world again, and young Tom had come
So now, every day, Dumbledore watched each child much more
closely than he’d ever done before.
It wasn’t the only change at Hogwarts. There were six tables, and not four – and the
tables were mixed, forcing the houses to sit together for meals. McGonagall had wisely suggested the removal
of the house points completely and Flitwick was responsible for the intra-year
competition, with each age group competing instead. The lower years took it more seriously than
those studying for OWLs and NEWTs, who were much more preoccupied with the
attainment of Os and Es instead of rubies and diamonds.
For the most part, the school was gentler – kinder. There were still divisions, but they weren’t
drawn down house or blood lines. The
Black sisters, brothers and cousins had all been sorted across the houses. Slughorn was certain that if the old regime
had been in place, he’d have gained all of the talented youngsters into
Slytherin, and after a drink or two in the staffroom, he’d spout as much – but then,
he couldn’t deny his pride at seeing Muggleborns finally happily seated in the
dungeons. That Lily Evans really was
something special, after all.
“Is it true?” Lily
cornered him breathlessly in the Ministry canteen. “Really true?
“Who told you?”
Severus brushed his long hair from his eyes. “I wanted to tell you myself.”
“You know the rumour mill in this place, Sev,” she
said. “So it’s true? Why?”
He nodded. “I’m…”
“I thought you’d just bought a house?” she asked,
curiously. “I thought you wanted to find
someone special and get married?”
“…I have, and I do,” he said, blushing slightly. “But there’s years yet. We’ll probably live to 150, and I’m only 22.” He caught the flinty look in her
expression. “That’s not a criticism,” he
said, hastily. “I know you and Potter
are,” he almost choked on the word, “happy.”
“You’re not still broken hearted about Narcissa Black
marrying Lucius Malfoy, are you? You’re
aiming too high, that’s your problem,” Lily said, snaking her arm into
his. “What about Marlene in the Magical
Transportation Department? Or, oh, I
know! How ab-”
“Lil,” he said, softly.
“I’ve made up my mind. I’m not really
that bothered about a wife, or a family.
All I know is that I don’t want to push papers around the Ministry. I want to travel. I want to collect potions ingredients from
exotic places, and explode cauldrons in countries that I’ve never been to. I want to be the name on the academic papers that we file, not the bloke with the nametag
putting them into binders.”
He opened the door and grinned when he saw his old
schoolfriend. “Hello you.”
“Hello you back,” she laughed, prodding him in the chest and
making her way in. “Has Harry behaved?”
“I thought Potter was coming for him?”
She smiled. “I
figured he could do the dishes, and I could visit you instead.”
barrelled down the tight hallway, and Lily hugged her teenage son tightly. After a moment Harry wriggled
uncomfortably. “All right, Mum, that’s
“Sorry love,” she said, kissing his brow and fiddling with
his messy hair. “Did you get what you
“Professor Slughorn is going to be so impressed with my
paper,” Harry enthused, pulling his notes out.
“And I can’t wait to show Hermione.
She’s going to be ridiculously jealous!”
“Hmm,” she said, looking at his bundle of notes. “And you’ve been behaving for Severus?”
“Yes Mum,” Harry whined, pulling his trainers on.
She shot Severus a sceptical look. “And you’ve been behaving with Harry? No teaching him dark curses once you’d
finished with his Potions essay?”
“Just one or two,” Severus drawled, a smirk covering his
face. “No hexing in the corridors
“He’s joking,” Harry said, hastily, seeing his mother’s
“He always is,” Lily replied. “Off outside for a minute, Harry. I just want a word with Sev.”
Harry quietly complied, picking his bag and broom up, and
stepping out into the warm sunshine.
“Are you definitely sticking around? No urge to go flying off to the other side of the world again?”
“I’ve got the urge,” he said, smiling, “but not the body. My hip’s not been right since I had that encounter on the beach in Rio. I’m getting old.”
“You’re mid 30s, Severus.”
“Practically dead. …ouch, speak of the devil.” He twisted his hip, grimacing in pain.
“If it’s bothering you, you should go to St Mungo’s.”
“It’ll be fine. It’s just a twinge. I’ve got potions for a twinge.”
“…so if you’re definitely staying, did you give any more thought to McGonagall’s offer?”
He scoffed. “I’m not
a teacher, Lil.”
“Could’ve fooled me.
Harry’s come on leaps and bounds since he’s been visiting.”
“That’s different. He’s
different…” Severus wrung his
hands. “Come into the lab,” he said,
softly. He pushed the door open, where
the dining room would ordinarily be, and Lily saw the splendid array of
ingredients and instruments. “I can’t
leave this. It’s my life’s work.”
“You could take it with you. You need to share it.”
“Not by standing in front of a classroom of dunderheads,” he
said. “They wouldn’t appreciate it. A bunch of spotty first years who don’t
appreciate the beauty of a simmering cauldron, and the power of its shimmering
“We did,” Lily said. “Harry
does. Think about it, Sev.”
“I am sure that our guest speaker needs no introduction to
all of those who have done your required reading,” Slughorn intoned.
Granger’s hand shot into the air. “Please,
sir? Is it Severus Snape, sir?”
Slughorn looked pleased at the excited chattering that erupted
when he nodded. “Yes. We are honoured that he has found time in his
schedule to be here today.”
On the other side of the door, Snape gave a slight smile at
the excitement he’d caused in the classroom.
He wiped his slightly sweaty palms against his robes, and took a deep
breath before pushing the door open.
“Professor Slughorn,” he greeted, shaking his old teacher’s
hand warmly. “Good afternoon, class.”
“Good afternoon, sir,” the class obediently chanted back.
“We shall begin this lesson with a practical demonstration,”
he said, rolling up his sleeves and beckoning for a student to come to the
front. “You shall assist…?”
“Hermione,” the young woman answered, looking pleased that
he’d chosen her.
“I can’t believe he chose me to demonstrate!” Hermione
exclaimed as she, Ron and Draco walked back up to the Great Hall.
“I thought he’d have chosen Harry,” Ron mused.
Draco looked surprised.
“Harry? Harry Potter?”
“Yeah,” Hermione said.
“Harry has private lessons with him.
Harry’s mum is his best friend – they go way back.”
“I thought his potions had got better this year,” Draco
said. “Lucky beast. Father’s been trying to get an appointment
with Snape for weeks – I think they were passing acquaintances at school, but
they lost touch years ago.”
“Do you think there’s anything in the rumour that he’ll
Draco shook his head.
“Not at all. Hogwarts couldn’t
“He wants to retire, Severus. Soon.” McGonagall said, not looking up from
her paperwork. “Maybe this year, maybe
next year. I might be able to convince
him to stay a little while longer – for the right candidate to take the vacant
Severus nodded. “I am
aware of the rumours.”
“I am curious,” she said, finishing her letter with a
flourish and putting the quill down. “I was
disappointed when you did not respond to my letter, and I rather assumed that
you had no interest in the position.”
“Lily Potter keeps suggesting that I speak to you. So here I am.”
McGonagall gave a tight smile. “Ah. …are
you also aware that it was Lily Potter who suggested to me that I should write
“…no.” He bit back a
laugh. “What I now fear, Professor, is
that my friend has some hidden agenda which I have not yet determined.”
“Horace tells me that your guest spot over these past few
months has been extremely successful.”
“Yes… If we are to do
this, I think I need to make three things clear,” he said. “Firstly, you cannot afford me-”
He held up his hand. “It
is a fact that Hogwarts could not be expected to pay my going rate. But also, I do not have the patience to teach
the lower years.” He picked up the quill
from the Headmistress’ desk and scribbled a figure on the parchment. “I will accept this salary, on the
understanding that you need to find another teacher for the lower years, and I
will take the OWL and NEWT classes – fourth and fifth, sixth and seventh.”
McGonagall nodded. “And
the third thing?”
“The textbooks Slughorn uses are atrocious. They need replacing.”
“Horace has lamented as such himself, but unfortunately,
Severus, there’s no alternative.”
She chewed on the end of her quill as she looked down the
instructions. “Yes,” she said, ticking
it off and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. She smiled.
“It’s always silly mistakes with things like this,” he said,
pacing behind her sofa. “I know what my
own notes mean, but transcribing them, and making sure that someone else doesn’t
misinterpret them… I know the potions
inside out, so even if the instructions were wrong, I’d just amend it on the
fly without realising.” He sighed
again. “It’s one thing putting your name
to research, but if you get a first year potion wrong and send the kids to the
infirmary with boils…”
“You’re worrying about nothing,” Lily said, turning the
parchment over and inspecting the next page.
“But if it puts your mind at rest, I’ll ask Molly to brew.”
“Very proficient witch,” Lily said, “and whilst I am certain
she can brew, I think it’s been a while since she has. She’s very methodical, and if I ask her not
to, she won’t deviate from the recipe.”
Ginny walked into the Advanced NEWT class, flanked by Harry
on one side, and Ron on the other. “It’s
weird being with your year,” she whispered.
“We thought it was strange last year,” Ron said, waving to
Hermione who was engaged in an animated discussion with Draco at the back of
the room. “But it’s so he doesn’t have
to do the same demonstration twice. Uses
up twice the ingredients, which costs Hogwarts money. Makes sense, really.”
“And you can sit with us,” Harry said. “This’ll do here – we don’t want to be too
far back from the action.” He pulled
three chairs out for them all to sit on.
Ginny reached into her bag and pulled out her
brand new textbook, smiling as she saw the printed dedication in the first page.
Pioneering Potions by
To my students – you will
find that this book is far thicker than previous textbooks you may have
used. Each printed page is followed by a
blank sheet. This is not an error, but
space for you to make your own notes. I
encourage you to experiment, to innovate, and to invent – for that is how we
discover pioneering potions.
My deepest thanks to
Molly Weasley, for her sound advice, and willingness to dedicate her kitchen to
And my eternal
gratitude to my proofreader, editor, cheerleader, and friend – always – Lily
basically, thesis statement, any “how do muggleborn students from poor families afford to send their kids to hogwarts” question can be resolved by repurposing the answer to “how do poor muggle families afford to send their muggle kids to public school,” except it’s honestly probably easier for muggle parents of young witches and wizards to afford school supplies for hogwarts because their child is guaranteed a free warm bed and three fresh-cooked all-you-can-eat free meals a day nine months out of the year for seven years
Got a good mix here: hogwarts AU where you and woozi are in different houses and you guys have some classes together and start to crush on each other and then one night after a quidditch match, you're invited into his dorm and there's drinking and you end up in his bed and yeah basically can you make this smutty and hogwarts themed? That's my aesthetic
of firewhisky and silencing charms.
pairing: reader x jihoon
i do apologize for the long wait and also for the crappy quality of this one. i’ve been so out of practice with my smut omg ;;
Title: it’s a kind of magic Pairing:Root / Shaw (Person of Interest) Word count: 2654 (Chapter 1 of 6)
Summary: Sameen Shaw just wanted to finish her time at Hogwarts in peace so she could move on with her life. She really didn’t need a secretive, annoying and annoyingly attractive girl interfering with her plans.
Root, however, welcomes the distraction.
Prologue: the one with the slightly melodramatic introductions (that prove they’re perfect for each
Groves was not raised to believe in magic.
grown up an only child in a small town, daughter to a sick mother abandoned by
her father. When reality was so harsh, there was no time for such frivolities
as dreams and magic.
Groves did not believe in magical solutions and had no time for naive hopes. She
believed in herself, in her body’s ability to perform tasks and, above all
else, she believed in the power of her mind.
From a very
young age, Samantha focused on improving and achieving, always trying to outdo
herself in everything she did. She had no thoughts to spare to most people so
she mostly competed with herself. Even at home, despite being the child, she had
to be the responsible one; she was the caretaker of her little family unit of
two. Like a proper Cinderella, she would cook and tidy up the house, she would
tend to her mother’s every need and whim. She bought groceries and booked
doctors’ appointments. She was an ambitious adult trapped in the limitations of
a faux-innocent body.
didn’t mind. There weren’t many people she loved – in fact, there were only two
– but she loved her mother. It seemed fair to her that she would look after the
woman who had given her the gift of life. For the moment, at least.
content with her situation, with all the books she had to read and all the
afternoons spent exploring the computers in the library. Samantha enjoyed
machines. All of them. Computers, televisions, calculators. She appreciated the
cleanliness, the clarity of function and of design. She appreciated their
simplicity most of all.
Samantha didn’t have much to her external life, but her brain? Her brain would
never stop working, always with a plan or an idea, always with an improvement
to be added to her routine. She didn’t care for dreaming because she didn’t
have dreams; she had certainties. She would become someone with means and
possessions, she would move out of the middle of nowhere and get her mother the
best care, she would know the world and conquer it.
certainties were probably the reason why, in all the history of the Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she was the only person who wasn’t
exhilarated when she received her letter of acceptance.