White Heather for Protection

Interlude: Through Onyx Eyes

Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, stared drolly at the line of miscreants waiting to be Sorted while his colleagues clapped excitedly for every brat who walked onstage. He wanted to sneer at them all. Honestly, there was nothing at all to cheer about. They were just another batch of incompetent children too self-absorbed to understand the art of his chosen calling.

His mental tally of first year Slytherins reached seven with the Sorting of Murdoc Mulciber. Looking over his new charges, he saw the apprehension and nervousness they hid behind veneers of haughtiness. Life would be difficult for them in the most abhorred house of Hogwarts.

Severus was snapped out of his introspection by a niggling sense of awareness. He turned to the source and caught sight of the girl he had met at Slug and Jiggers. There was another Slytherin candidate, though he didn't believe her bright openness was quite suited for a house as hated as his was. No matter the cunning she possessed, he hoped that she would be Sorted elsewhere. As a Slytherin muggleborn, she would be ostracised by both her housemates and the school at large.

The girl had the audacity to nod and smile at him. The reckless brat didn't seem very intimidated. Perhaps she would be a Gryffindor after all. He held back a shudder. Well, he couldn't have that. He gave her a look, one designed to fill feeble-minded fools with self-doubt and anxiety. The girl blushed in embarrassment and made a gallant attempt of casually shifting her attention to the Sorting.

"Potter, Heather!" Minerva announced.

For a moment, Severus lost his carefully sculpted neutral expression and gaped unbecomingly. Then he felt his fury building. Potter! The little chit was Potter's spawn! Lyra, she had introduced herself as. She was a lying, cheating wastrel like her useless scum of a father. (He stoutly ignored that Lyra was the girl's middle name.)

If the girl was Potter's elder brat, then the other boy Leo – no, Hadrian Potter – was the dratted Boy-Who-Lived! Such a pretentious moniker; as if the brat's head wasn't inflated enough already. How had he not recognised the Potter boy? His mug featured regularly in the Daily Prophet after all.

Severus tried to recall the boy's appearance to no avail. That was ridiculous; he had spent at least two hours with the brats. He reigned in a disgusted growl at the thought. It must have been a disillusionment charm. That blasted Minerva must have cast it before letting the beasts loose. However, a disillusionment would have masked his presence entirely, not just his physical appearance. A variation perhaps. He felt his rage escalate at the deception.

Then the girl had the sheer nerve to look at him. He gave her the most menacing glare he could muster, putting the full force of his loathing behind it. The girl froze like a statue. Excellent. Thought she could fool him, did she? Make old Snivellus the butt of her jokes, just like her cowardly father and his goons.

Well, he would see what a foolish little girl could do against a talented adult wizard.

~~~

Severus swooped down the aisle like the bat he knew his students called him. He scowled fiercely at a Gryffindor who managed to make her potion give off green fumes. "15 points from Gryffindor for utter idiocy and 10 points for ruining your assignment!" he barked out and banished the potion. That would be an immediate Troll for Bell, he noted with wicked glee.

Disgusted by the sheer stupidity of the Gryffindor first years, he turned to his Slytherins. They, at least, appeared to be at the correct brewing stage. He narrowed his eyes. Except for the girl. She was absolutely infuriating.

The girl's potion was finished already, in record time. The colour was perfect too, not a shade of difference to his reference one. And this happened in every. Single. Lesson. She was frustratingly competent in Potions. It took away his one reprieve of slapping her with a failing grade since he couldn't visibly target one of his own snakes, loathe as he was to have her in his house. She wouldn't make him break that tenet – tempted though he was.