Prologue: Enjoy Your Summer Hols

by Icarus

The Hogwarts Express had left two days before, and it seemed to Professor Snape that the entire castle breathed a sigh of relief. A warm breeze wandered in through Hogwarts' many open windows, smelling of sunshine and green summer. The hallways were empty and peaceful, and his steps echoed pleasantly, as he slowly made his way to the last staff meeting of the year.

There was only one student on those trains that he would miss. Which in itself was a first.

But there was scarcely any point in missing Harry now. He was going to see him at Snape Manor in just a few weeks. Not to seem eager, but Severus had already mapped out their route. They would leave from Hogsmeade, Apparate into London to pick up a few essentials out of storage, then continue on in two easy stages to the Manor. Provided, of course, Harry passed his Apparition test. He didn't have his license just yet.

Severus cringed inwardly at this uncomfortable reminder of Harry's youth.

But he skilfully shunted this fact aside, along with those many other little items he didn't think about. Unpleasant truths, such as the fact that he had been a murderer; that he'd wet the bed until age twelve; that he'd been caught masturbating as a teenager in the Arithmancy classroom, by a professor who was now his colleague (not that Minerva ever let him live it down). The list was too long to bother contemplating.

Severus arrived at the meeting exactly on time, as always. It spared him Flitwick's incessant small talk.

The staff room was long and panelled in old-fashioned mahogany on three walls. Tall, leaded-glass windows opened over a window seat on the north side, and mismatched chairs from all over the castle were scattered about the room, in a different configuration each time you walked in. It was disconcerting. At the moment they were arranged in a loose, lop-sided circle.

The room was unusually neat right now, scoured already for the summer. All the books and out-of-date periodicals were carefully put away, and there were none of the usual crumb-filled plates and dirty cups about, the ones no one would ever confess to leaving. The only person to never leave a mess was Binns.

Certainly the teachers were as ready for summer as their students had been. Hooch occupied the window seat, slumped inelegantly, her legs stretched out in front of her. McGonagall was perched on her stiff, high-backed chair by the unlit fireplace, looking prim, and rather tired. Other teachers wandered in a little late, gingerly sidling past Severus in the doorway. The last meeting of the year was always sloppy. Both Hagrid and Sprout were absent, though there was nothing unusual about that.

Dumbledore was there already, chatting with Sinistra. He gave Severus a clear, penetrating look, without pausing in his conversation.

So. Albus guessed Severus hadn't kept his word to not sleep with the boy again until he'd left school. How he always knew such things, Severus could never fathom. He paused, and tried to convince himself that it didn't matter as he silently entered the room.

As usual, they'd left Severus' chair by the door free. Hagrid had sat in it. Once. But only the once.

Severus curled his robes protectively about himself as he sat, and scanned the room over his fingertips. There were no furtive glances in his direction, no tense undercurrent of excited gossip. The room hadn't hushed when he'd entered, nor had conversations suddenly shifted topics — all sure signs you were the dubious entertainment.

It seemed Albus hadn't told them about Harry.

Is that the plan, Albus? Let everyone find out gently, if at all? Let rumour creep where I can't see it and therefore plan accordingly?

I think not.

"Well. Now that we are all here…" Albus began. Professors shifted and coughed and paid varying degrees of attention. The door burst open. It was Sprout, unfashionably late. Predictably.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. Squirrels managed to get into greenhouse number one! I've spent all morning cleaning up the mess. They were terribly frightened."

An excellent excuse. The squirrels were lucky it was greenhouse one, or they might never have survived. But the explanation was less impressive once you noticed there was a new disaster every week. Oh, Sprout was sincere. Her life was merely perpetual chaos. Minerva looked irritated.

"Alas, I foresaw disaster just this very morning…" Sibyll Trelawney said in a tremulous voice as Sprout continued her colourful explanation.

So did we all, Sibyll, Severus thought. Sit down, Sprout, and let us get this over with.

Hagrid came in meekly, with a cough and a mumbled apology. At least some people knew how to not make a production out of being late. Albus merely twinkled at them all, and began once again.

"Well, now that we are all actually here…" Albus said. He waved his wand, and the agenda scroll unwound from midair. They inwardly groaned as it unrolled onto the floor, across the room and into the hallway. The sadist.

Albus ignored their collective sigh and frozen smiles, and continued cheerfully. "We have a few little items to prepare for next term. Summers are short, as you all know…."

Severus began mentally composing a shopping list for himself and Harry while Albus nattered on. Most of these items would call for a sacrificial lamb, otherwise known as a 'volunteer.' He had learned in the Death Eaters to never, ever, volunteer. Though occasionally Albus cornered him. Thus, the location of his seat by the door, and his carefully planned escape route. It seemed his well-timed exit would be particularly important for this meeting.

It was all the usual nonsense. Filch had yet more items to add to the list of contraband. One could tell the Weasley twins were gone: the additions were half the length of previous years. He also made his annual hopeful request to reinstate the stocks for detention. Severus as usual voted for it, lost cause though this was. It was voted down. Hooch whined about the condition of the school brooms and made an impassioned plea for replacements — it was denied, as always. However, they all agreed to place a fence around Hagrid's, to keep his creatures from destroying the Quidditch pitch. A useless effort. The money was better spent on the brooms, but Severus said nothing. He had nothing to gain from school brooms.

Severus waited, held his peace until the very end of the meeting.

"Yes, well, if there are no other announcements, our holidays await." Dumbledore's eyes sparkled at his restless staff. "No doubt some of us are as eager as the students for our freedom."

The room stirred, clothing rustled and chairs scraped along the floor as the Hogwarts staff prepared to leave. It was that collective pause before the cheerful, post-staff meeting prattle began.

Now.

"Oh," Severus began softly, as if just remembering something.

All eyes turned in his direction in surprise. He rarely spoke in staff meetings.

"I have a last item. I apologise, it was not on the agenda," he said smoothly.

Anyone's agenda.

"You should be aware that Harry Potter will be staying with me for the summer." The surprise at this ran through the room with the speed of a Quicksilver solution. "He is helping me with some… minor repairs… on Snape Manor." Severus smiled slightly. Let them deal with it now, on his schedule.

"I thought you ought to hear it from me."

For many reasons. Not the least of which was the entertainment value.

The silence this announcement met was delicious. Only the breeze moved. Since everyone had heard about Harry Potter's brief liaison with Ron Weasley (Harry was such a popular topic), and they very well knew Severus' personal predilections, it didn't take them long to draw the appropriate conclusion.

Well. Most of them at any rate. There were a few confused or otherwise blank faces.

Severus scanned the room with amusement.

My, my. This is quite the scene.

Minerva, you look like a Weasley with your mouth hanging open like that. You are every ounce the Gryffindor fool it seems.

She shut her mouth with a snap, made a quick assessment of the room; then glared at the suspiciously unsurprised Professor Dumbledore. The headmaster remained impassive, his expression pleasant.

Flitwick's face dawned with sudden understanding. His little hand slapped his forehead.

Flitwick, are those recriminations? Self-blame? Whatever for -? Oh… yes. That drunken night you caught Harry and me in the hallway, how could I forget? Yes. You should have seen it then, shouldn't you?

Hooch snorted and gave Severus a disdainful glance. Sinistra seemed to biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Other teachers stared at him in dumbfounded shock.

Professor Sprout glanced around the room, bemused at everyone's sudden silence. Missing the subtext as usual.

Sprout, you innocent, stop blinking. You'll figure it out in a week or two.

Sibyll, behind her coke-bottle glasses, beamed, strangely enough. A brittle hand shoved her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

Now why does Sibyll look so pleased? Ah… the deadly Snape Manor. Probably 'envisioning' Harry's funeral procession. And mine. Two for one. The ecstasy must be overwhelming.

Hagrid simply sighed heavily, and shifted uncomfortably in his too-small chair, taking it far too well.

Harry must have told him already. All to the good — nice to not have to pry his hands off my throat. Though no doubt that can be remedied. I wonder how many details Harry provided? Not many, I'm sure.

Severus sighed inwardly. He supposed it was too much to hope then that Harry had neglected to tell Lupin. It would have been fun to mention it himself, just to see the mild werewolf shocked for once in his life.

Oh well. Can't have everything.

Dumbledore for his part simply gazed at Severus with a serene expression, his clear, blue eyes unperturbed over the half-moon glasses. He looked about his staff benignly.

Was the man completely unflappable? Severus had just ruined his summer, and he was about to be mobbed with questions and recriminations from the entire teaching staff of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry — particularly since Severus would be out of reach as fast as one could say 'Apparate.'

Severus glanced at his pocket-watch. "Four o'clock." He had timed it perfectly. "I believe our meeting is adjourned?"

"Indeed it is, Severus," Albus said mildly. "Thank you, everyone. Enjoy your summer hols."

~*~*~

Severus had almost made good his escape, leaving the room behind him abuzz with horror, anxiety and gleeful gossip — they were not above that, no — when he heard footsteps behind him. He knew who that was.

"Albus," he began with controlled irritation as he turned, "you know that if I hadn't told them…" He stopped. It wasn't Albus.

"Severus," Minerva McGonagall said sharply. Her witches' hat perched at a sharp angle, and the look on her face was stern.

He was tempted to keep walking. But that brought to mind an image from his school days; himself striding away from his Transfiguration Professor, and Professor McGonagall's voice behind him: 'Mr Snape, you come back here right now and apologize!' He had slammed open the door to the boys' bathroom, and kicked one of the stalls. In fact, he recalled with some satisfaction, he had broken the stall door — and not with magic either.

He folded his arms instead, and drew himself to his full height and even terms this time, avoiding even an unconscious echo of the past.

"What is it that you want?" he asked. "Minerva."

"Severus Snape. You have sunk to a new low. One that even I would never have expected of you. Are you —" Her voice broke as she took a deep breath. "— did you sleep with Harry Potter? Your student?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. He didn't deign to answer her, but neither would he damn himself with a lie. It was enough of an answer for her, however.

"But…" she asked plaintively, with all her facades, thresholds and dignity down. "Why, Severus?"

Why??

"That is none of your concern," Severus snapped, and instantly regretted even speaking to her. With that he had not only acknowledged her dubious right to question his personal affairs, he'd confirmed everything. Very un-Slytherin of him. Minerva put him off his feed.

"Perhaps you should ask Harry," Severus added in a vengeful hiss, "or has he not confided in you lately?"

He saw her eyes widen as the barb hit home, and he turned in a swirl of black robes… while he still had the upper hand. He should never have given her a chance to get under his skin.

Why, he puzzled. His robes snapped behind him as he strode to the Slytherin dungeon to pack for his summer hols.

Why, indeed.

Finis.