Musical Chairs (Severus Snape)

one

"Good riddance. I will be keeping my eye on you and that pathetic Headmaster who's too blind to see his detrimental actions. Mark my words."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes at the pathetic excuse for a goodbye, although it was expected.

"It was nice working with you too, Lucius," I mumbled, continuing to sort through the piles of written works on my now-retired desk to see what I needed and what I did not. "If you even consider it working."

I hated seeing even a hint of platinum blonde hair trailing through every department and corridor at the Ministry of Magic. Money could buy you everything in this bloody world, even after you'd been proved a traitor and had been sacked. How did this man have a life, wealth, and wife? And a child at that?

"I'll have you know that I would be careful if I were you, Hathor," Lucius sneered, raising an eyebrow and lifting his chin up high, sizing me up and down. "That rather... careless mouth of yours would surely land you in situations no one would have the pleasure of partaking in. But that's right... it already did; teaching as shameful a subject as Muggle Studies."

"Oh, please. At least I don't have the heart of a coward," I rolled my eyes, looking back down to tend to my works.

A black cane quickly found itself on top of my stacks of parchment paper, ripping through some of them due to the force of its whip. I felt my blood boil as I looked up, glaring into his cold, grey eyes. He was a pale man that was not much larger than I, but he drove me absolutely mad. His posture reflected the way that he saw himself: that of high power, honor, pride, importance, and superiority, though I had trouble mirroring his beliefs.

Lucius merely looked at me, then forced his ever-so-familiar smile.

"I would be wary of who I entail that title to, Miss Iris," he said, smirking at me.

I swallowed hard, not-so-gently shoving his cane off my works and off my desk. I could have sent words down his spine that would keep him awake for nights at a time, laced with fire and spite. I chose to force a smile instead.

"Send Narcissa an owl with a few flowers before I do. You've been here all day, leaning over me after all," I said confidently, lifting my chin up in imitation. "And send my loveliest of farewell wishes to her, would you? I'll have Arthur assist me with the rest of my packing as I leave tomorrow. Surely you understand."

With this remark, a rather uncomfortable Lucius spit at the doorway, swiftly walking out, his scoff and clicking of his shoes echoing down the corridors.

With a flick of my wand, the door shut behind him. I tsked, shaking my head in disbelief. I was on alright terms with the rest of the Malfoy family; Narcissa was a fair woman who, in my opinion, was not fond of her husband but knew that she had married into a family of pride that forced her to uphold their image; if not, the consequences were unimaginable and could not even be uttered behind closed doors. As a woman of Slytherin house myself, I understood, but was fearful of her life behind her forced smiles and fast blinks.

Much of my post-Hogwarts expeditions had been that of a non-traditional member of Slytherin. I had taken a particular interest in Muggle Studies and Muggle music, believing that some aspects of the Muggle world would bring amazing advancement toward the Wizarding world. Of course, outcasted by many of my peers for doing so, it had been a bit of a lonely career, but I was honored that Dumbledore saw me as a good fit for the school. I always believed him to be a good man and one of the greatest wizards of our time.

"His behavior is always so unpleasant," Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, said, shaking his head from his desk and looking up at me through the clearing of our cubicles. "I'm so sorry, Hathor."