Burn the Witch
By Tendo Rei
Chapter 1
Severus Snape wandered through the dungeons of Hogwarts, coffee cup in hand. There was never any decent coffee around at the school, and for the most part he had to make do with a makeshift drip system in his classroom with a paper towel as a filter. But the last time he had done that, a drop he spilled on the potted Weeping creeper in his room had turned it a brittle silver and made it give off an unpleasant smell, something like rotting tin cans. He knew that at any given time, any other member of the staff, Filch included, would have at least ¼ lb of tea on them, about three lemons, a box of sugar cubes, and a flask of what McGonagall called “teacher’s helper”. But never even a French Roast.
True, he wasn’t adverse to tea, but it just…lacked something. Living in a more muggle area during the off months of the year than the other teachers, it was relatively easy to get at least a cup of said mixture. But here? No, no no. When he had so much as mentioned the word java in a passing conversation, it had sent Flitwick scuttling in the opposite direction, squealing like a hamster. He had spent the rest of that long dark day in the headmaster’s office, and from that day on, he never mentioned coffee again, passing or otherwise. Still, sometimes he got jittery, and it would make him a little sad to see his mug, sitting there forlornly on his writing desk, empty as the new moon. He knew he would return to his room disappointed, but he had nothing else to do.
Walking down the stone corridors, thinking such self-possessed thoughts as that, the potions master almost didn’t see what seemed to be a very pregnant Harry Potter going in the opposite direction. He saw it, in his peripheral vision, and managed to take two steps before nearly falling down from turning so fast. What he saw would’ve meant a spit-take, had there been any coffee in his cup. But since there wasn’t any, he merely clung to the wall and gibbered for a few minutes.
Harry was waddling down the hall with that blissful glowing expression that most pregnant women have, both hands supporting his large belly. Severus followed Harry with his eyes all the way down the hall, and when he turned the corner he merely stood there for a few moments, his brain trying to process what he had just saw. After a long pause, he bolted for the headmaster in a less than dignified manner and a speed that tachyons would have trouble matching.
“AAAAAAAALLLBBBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUS!” he screamed, frightening the hell out of a first-year Ravenclaw, who had gotten up to go to the bathroom and now doubted she’d ever go again.
Managing to slow his velocity just enough so that he just barely crashed into the gargoyle outside the headmaster’s study, he gasped out the password, (Doxy Sticks), and raced up the stairs, stubbing his entire foot more than a few times. When the door burst open, Severus saw that the headmaster was currently preoccupied with making was a ship in a bottle. Fighting the overwhelming urge to smash it over his head, Severus managed to regroup enough in the five minutes he spent panting and holding the massive stitch in his side so that he was able to assume his calm, arrogant demeanor that some ladies found quite attractive.
“Sir,” he began in a haggard monotone. “there seems to be trouble among the students.”
“Trouble, Severus?” asked Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling. Snape felt another surge of irritation, but squashed it down.
“One in particular, headmaster.”
The headmaster “hmm”-ed absent-mindedly, balancing the mast with a small hook. After a few moments that felt like eternity, he asked, “Which one?”
“Harry Potter, sir.”
“Ah.”
A few more interminable seconds.
“He’s…he…appears to be…pregnant.”
“Ah.”
Now this time, Severus was sure that it was an eternity that he spent waiting for the headmaster to answer. After this session, he would look in the mirror in the hall outside and be very shocked that he hadn’t aged several years on the outside, to match the seven on the inside. The devices inside the suddenly unbearably hot office whirred and ticked away.
Tick…tick…tick…tick…tick…tick…tick…
“Sir, did you hear what I s-“
“Hm?”
“I said, did you hear what I sai-“
“Yes I heard, Severus. The Boy who Lived is Pregnant.”
Yet another long silence.
“Uh, sir-“
“I suppose you aren’t going to accept his lifestyle then?”
“He’s a boy! A bloody boy! He can’t get pregnant!” Severus exploded. The headmaster merely sighed and took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Severus, young Masers Potter and Malfoy have decided that-“
“D-Draco?” Severus blanched. “DRACO?! MY GODSON DRACO?!” He roared.
This was terrible, he considered Malfoy the younger to be the closest thing he had (or would ever have) to a son. Overlooking the fact that he was overly arrogant, and something of an idiot and a coward, and what good godfather couldn’t? he had his good qualities, of course. He was elitist, socially antagonistic, pompous, self-centered and sadistic. Everything a good Malfoy should be. And, the last time he had heard, he hated Harry Potter, the last time being Tuesday.
“WHAT IN GOD’S NAME WAS DRACO DOING WITH THAT-“
“Severus, do try to calm down. Speaking in all caps really takes up space. Space that could be used for an interesting scene change indicator.”
Severus took a convulsive swallow and continued, feeling very parched.
“Sir, I was always under the impression that Potter…you know…”
“Know what, Severus?”
“Was…in to…girls.”
The headmaster gave a small noise that could’ve been either a snort or a chuckle, he couldn’t tell which.
“As a matter of fact, I was under the impression that he was going with that (don’t say blood traitor) Weasley girl. I had seen them quite a few times, ah, around, as the say. What?” he asked helplessly, as the headmaster had been gently shaking his head since mid-sentence.
“Severus, even were that the truth, some time ago young mister Potter and Malfoy got together and decided how much they needed eachother-“
Severus gave a short, venomous laugh, a little like an accusation.
“The Potter I knew would never-"
The headmaster seemed to lose his patience.
“Well then, perhaps you didn’t really know Potter, did you Snape?”
Severus stared at him for a moment. Snape? He echoed with his mouth. Albus had never, ever called him that. Something has very wrong here, something he could almost but not quite grasp.
“But headmaster, they hated eachother!”
“They don’t seem to now!”
“Harry is pregnant!
“And?”
“He’s a boy!”
“So?”
“It’s biologically-bloody-impossible!”
“He can be whomever he WANTS to be, stupid!” The headmaster snarled back. Snape was a little afraid now. The headmaster never yelled, at least, not like this. And his startling lack of eloquence gave Severus the sudden urge to check the groundwater for lead.
“Sir, barring the fact that it’s…quite improbable, they’re minors…at least…I think they are…” as a matter of fact, Severus couldn’t place their exact age at the moment. Which was odd as he had just yesterday taught them…love potions? No, he had never taught that in class. Draught of Living death? He had taught that one to them so long ago. Polyjuice potion? Wait, he wasn’t even supposed to teach them that one! How did that get in his brain? He couldn’t even get a grasp on what month it was, it appeared to be both beautiful spring weather and snowing outside. Severus could feel blind panic rise in his chest. Something was wrong here, very wrong, and it seemed that Dumbledore would be no help. Still, he had to make one last attempt.
“Anyhow, Sir, what on earth is the boy going to do with a baby? It’s only half…three… a few months into the school year sir! How can he take care of it? Where will it sleep? What will he feed it? What will he feed it with?” that last question he couldn’t decide if he wanted answered or not. The headmaster merely chuckled and shook his head.
“Really, Severus, Harry has been looking forward to this for quite some time now.”
“He wasn’t pregnant when I taught him yesterday!” Severus whispered bewilderedly.
“Nevertheless, I think we should all congratulate Harry on his decision, after all, he also said his cousin could help raise it.”
Severus was completely at sea now, waving at lights on the shore that would be his salvation or his wreckage.
“Cous…the muggle boy?”
The headmaster looked disapprovingly down his nose at Severus over his tiny glasses, which just occurred to Severus to be of little actual purpose.
“Of course not Severus, his cousin, Julie Potter, just arrived.”
“Huh?”
“Yesterday, Severus, from the Salem witch academy in America, she’s his long-lost cousin and a parselmouth. You’ll be able to recognize her easily, she’s the one with a dragon as a familiar.”
Severus merely gazed at this mage among mages, his jaw hanging open. For what seemed like the first time in his entire life, he had nothing to say. Nothing he could say. It suddenly felt as if he were outside his body, looking down on his scruffy form, a human bundle of apathy with greater relation to a scarecrow than this wizard who appeared to have gone completely sixes and sevens. He realized no one had spoken for a while and licked his lips, which were far too dry.
“I…uh…I see sir. Well. Um.”
“Really Snape, with the influx of exchange students, I really expected you to at least keep up with it? What’s the matter, boy?”
Severus swallowed with a dry click. He had to get away from here. Now.
“Sir, I…I think I need to go to the great hall and get something to eat, I’m feeling a bit…under the weather.”
The statement felt like it had come from someone else’s mouth. Dumbledore swam in his vision, and truth be told, he was feeling very lightheaded all of the sudden.
“Very well, you may go.”
Severus rose from his chair, and nearly fell down as his head reeled. Planes and angles seemed to tilt and whirl and Severus wondered if he wasn’t very close to throwing up. Nodding goodbye, he made his way drunkenly back to the staircase and down, nearly falling in the process. Now, on any normal day, Albus wouldn’t even have let him get up. He would have bade him sit and summoned some hot tea, preferably with lemon. He had a downright grandfatherly attitude toward nearly everyone, and at least twice he had seen him check Hagrid’s temperature by feeling his forehead. But this whole situation right here was really screwing with his perception of reality.
Only an hour ago, he had been very sure of his place at Hogwarts, and he had been extremely sure that they had no exchange system. Now, he wasn’t sure if he was potions master, DADA teacher, or a plant. Come to think of it, he was almost sure he had been the last one. But now… how could he put it? It was like a whole new group of memories had been shoved violently into his head, and the bad thing was that some of them were conflicting. The only common thread some of them had were that there was gross of new students, all of them girls. Where they had once had near-equality of the sexes, now the school was just lousy with them. All of the memories fought for dominance, and for a brief moment Severus couldn’t shake the feeling that Voldemort was his father. It passed, thankfully and he managed to stumble his way through the hall and out the door.
Stopping for a moment, he tried to collect his thoughts and found he couldn’t. No matter what he did, what had previously been an orderly file cabinet was now a mass of spaghetti and hummus. He was quite sure he fell in love with some students, and then he was quite sure it was a student teacher, even though there had been none previously. It reminded him of the movie Scanners, only he hoped he was slightly less unattractive than Michael Ironside. The only course he could see taking was to go down to the great hall, and probably start drinking, because it was the only thing that could make this day bearable.
Wobbling slightly and feeling his way along the wall, Severus Snape made his way down the hall.
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review, tell me what you think, so I can disregard it quickly and get back to drinking!
