Dear Readers:

Ha! Just when you thought I would never update! Thanks to Tina and Donna for the boots to the head. :)

I hope you will enjoy.

Sincerely,

Chaos

Double, Double, Toil and Trouble

Chapter 4

~

Profesor Snape had been one of the youngest to ever be accorded his Master's credential, he was famous in the way only those who are accomplished are famous – not a household name, but given the sheer respect of one's peers. To all accounts the man was brilliant, innovative, inventive and was one of the few prodigies who came into the fullest fruit of potential as an adult.

He was also rude, sarcastic, snide and temperamental.

A pureblood with his bits in a twist was one thing; she'd butted heads with Lucius Malfoy enough.

This was a temper tantrum – adult variety, with excellent vocabulary and grammar.

It was not something that Molly tolerated from her children, or their friends – nor would the have it from their professors.

Molly's temper reached snapping strength and she let fly at the first pause - at a volume normally reserved for Howlers. "I may be a simple country mum, and not a famous potions master such as yourself, Professor, but I do know a few things about the raising of children. And one of the things I do know when I see it is a temper tantrum! The last time any of my children spoke to me like that, young man, I smacked their bot and send them to bed with no desert!"

~

Severus Snape felt his eyes pop and gave a mental replay to the previous exchange.

No one had spoken to him like that since he was a boy.

A very small boy.

A cutting response was ready to hand and he opened his mouth, only to have the woman become…

Well…

Ominous.

One would not think that a plump, 'simple country mum' in a flowered dress could look ominous, yet there she stood - hands on hips, one eyebrow drawn in and quirked in a frown, and glaring hard enough to blister dragon hide. She looked as if the was about to catch him by the ear and drag him across the desk.

He opened his mouth again, determined to have his say and – for a moment, he really could have sworn to it – the light dimmed.

'Simple country mum' his arse!

The hesitation was all that the redheaded witch needed. Somehow he was hustled out from behind his desk and toward the chairs by the cold fireplace.

"Now, have a seat and I'll make a pot of tea." Flames blew to life in the hearth and a kettle appeared on the stones. "Then we can discuss what to do with my scapegrace sons."

Severus supposed that in order to raise six boys, one must be rather firm of purpose. Certainly he had dealt with stroppy parents before, but this woman…!

She chained him in place with a cup – "Do you take lemon, dear?" – and secured him further with a ham sandwich accio'ed from Merlin knew where. There was no way to get a word in edgewise, and if he so much as thought of interrupting the chatter she would look at about to belabor him about the head with the teapot.

Shit, and Lucius was wary of Arthur? It was the distaff side he should be fretting about!

"Now, would you like some more mustard for your sandwich? Let me warm your cup a bit. Have another sandwich, you're far too thin." She conjured another – very tasty – sandwich onto his plate and picked up her own cup. "Now, about Fred and George, I agree with everything you said."

"Really, Madam, I… what?" If Minerva McGonagall popped stark naked and painted green out of a cake and sang the Slytherin Drinking Song, Severus could not have been more floored.

"I agree with everything you said. They are so bright that they are forever finding new and innovative ways to drop themselves in the soup. That said, we need to get them out of the soup." Eyeing him over the rim of her cup, she said, "I'm sure you know about all the kinds of trouble that bright and… undirected young men can find themselves in?"

Severus did a fast replay of his youth. What portions of it could this woman be reasonably expected to know?

Oh.

THAT.

He'd forgotten about THAT.

Purebloods could seldom manage more than a brilliant pink in the way of a blush, but that was excruciating. Severus felt as if his ears were going to burst into flame. Contrary to popular belief, Severus had not forgotten how to blush – he just very seldom had to. However THAT was enough to make even Lucius blush like a maiden fair!

The whole All-Britain Tournament weekend was mostly a blur right up until the point Severus had realized that he was wearing someone else's clothes. The details about THAT- supplied later by those who had not been so chemically divorced from their senses – were… sordid.

Not to mention plentiful.

Very detailed, too.

 There were even pictures – now destroyed along with the films, the negatives, and the cameras – just for good measure. Lucius had managed to talk him out of disposing of the witnesses as well for lack of places to hide all the bodies.

THAT had certainly come 'round to bite him on the arse.

And swallow his moral authority whole.

"Are you quite sure, Madam, that you were a Gryffindor?"

Molly Weasley just gave him that mother tiger smile and patted his knee.

~

In the end, Severus had been agreeable.

The details had been hammered out, then she and Severus – a nice man, if one with an unfortunate temper – went to Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall.

The plan was set into motion.

Severus very politely offered the use of his Floo to send Molly back home. Molly accepted. He had nice enough manners when he was put to them.

Though he was only twelve years her junior, she felt rather sorry for the poor dear. He needed to get out more – he was too pale from being immured in the dungeons, he also obviously kept odd hours and skipped meals when he was working.

It took him a few minutes to take down some very nasty warding spells on his fireplace, and next thing Molly was stepping into her own kitchen, dusting soot from her dress.

Arthur was sitting at the table, the guts of a Muggle fellytone spread before him. "There you are! I was thinking you'd become potions ingredients! I've made some sandwiches. The boys are still in their room and Ginny went to Diagon Alley with Sarah Bowman, they'll be back by dinner. How did your meeting with young Severus go?"

Kissing her husband, Mollie rumpled his thinning hair. Arthur kissed her soundly and pulled her into his lap – he could be a jealous old bear sometimes. There were times the silly man seemed convinced that she'd 'settled' for him.

"Well, he's got a temper like a hornet's nest on top of a pit viper's disposition. He is brilliant, even if he forgets his manners to an appalling degree. He expects everyone to be as smart as he is and is very cranky with them when they're not, poor thing."

Arthur snorted, "Poor thing? Molly…"

"Arthur, half the howling is just a fit of temper. Pay attention, maybe pet him a little, and he's actually fairly reasonable." She'd had to mightily resist the urge to box Severus' ears a few times, reminding herself that one caught more flies with honey than dragon gall. "We weren't that far apart on what we eventually agreed upon, and though it may seem a little harsh… Arthur, he said that Fred and George are easily among his most brilliant students if they worked out half the stuff in that book on their own. I've never imagined all the things our boys have dreamed up."

With a sigh, Arthur gave in. "All right. I'll conscience it. Just please assure me that they'll not be hung against a dungeon wall by their toes."

"Not a bit of it." Sleeping in the dungeons was not the same as being hung by one's toes.

She told Arthur all of it. Some things he agreed, some made him frown – requiring Molly to talk him 'round – and at some things he laughed outright.

"Our children with think that they've died and gone to hell," he added in a more sober tone, "Still, that's better than actually doing it. Severus has had enough of a rough ride that he might be able to steer our wayward pair right. As you think best, Molly dear."

Molly kissed her husband's bald spot. "Now put that fellytone away. I need you to help me make some chipped-chocolate cookies. We're going to have company tomorrow."

~

In the old Files Room at Hogwarts, a lone, cloaked figure braved the dust of decades.

Mary Brigid (Mollie) Mulvanerty

Born: May 10, 1950. Keshcarrigan, County Leitrim, Ireland.

Sorted: Gryffindor. September 1, 1961.

Graduated: June 30, 1967.

Severus snorted, "I want a word with that Hat," and leafed unscrolled the file.

Excellent student – her grade average was very high. The nominal amount of disciplinary record; but the 'country mum' was quite the little mischief-maker in her first three years at Hogwarts. Prefect from fifth year forward, and was Head Girl with Arthur Weasley as Head Boy in seventh year.

And a little precocious, as she married right out of school – with William Arthur arriving eight months after graduation.

A cursory glance at her grades by subject became a little more involved. Old Phillipus Thirlwall was a bloody bastard, but an excellent Potions Master, earning top marks in his class was a real achievement. Severus had been one of the few – and so had Molly Mulvanerty.

Who became Molly Weasley and had seven children – now mostly grown.

Severus felt a smile pull at his lips when he found her final Potions essay.

He read it sitting at the table, top to bottom – all five feet of it.

He also found a copy of her letter declining an appointment to university.

The smile lengthened.

Snatching up the file, he stalked to the Floo. Tossing a pinch of powder into the flames, he called, "Minerva, have you a moment?"

"Of course, Severus, come ahead."

With smile in place, eyes glittering, Severus stepped through.

~

TBC