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Severus was mad.
No. That was not a strong enough word.
Severus was furious, seething and apoplectic.
It was unfair. Unjust. Gratuitous.
Black had not been expelled or arrested for attempted murder.
The werewolf was still in school.
And his friends did not seem to care that he was a monster. How could they remain friends with that thing?
Severus, a perfectly normal human being, had no close friends.
Lupin had close friends. Potter, Evans, Pettigrew were standing by his side. The only friend Lupin failed to have was Black, but he’d gained two other Blacks: Black Number Two and Regulus. He could not believe Regulus Black, a SLYTHERIN, was being seen with Lupin.
In PUBLIC.
And there was nothing Severus could say to warn the idiot off. Other than to scorn him for being seen with a Gryffindor, but this did not seem to bother Regulus. Since he ripped his patch off in a fit of childish anger, Regulus had adopted a care not attitude when dealing with Slytherins.
Severus was also pissed because his Potions partner had left him. She was seated at the table with Evans, Potter and Lupin. Black the Rejected was now seated at a table behind Severus, huddled in a corner refusing to look at anyone. Potter and Black Number Two spent weeks upon weeks shooting glares at Black, while Lupin gave the idiot looks of sadness.
Yes. Severus Tobias Snape had been pissed off, furious, and apoplectic for over a month.
The Marauders were at odds. They were no longer the Merry Band of Mischief Makers, but the fact of the matter was it did not help cheer Severus up at all. It was working against him for the first time in six year. He wanted to hex, jinx and curse all of them, yet no one was picking on him.
For the first time since he’d stepped into the magical world, Severus Snape was not being bullied.
And it annoyed him.
Which, disgusted him.
This led to being more pissed off.
The Marauders plus Black Number Two and Black Number Two’s Prince Puppy Dog all avoided Severus as if he were contaminated with the Black Plague.
A number of times, he attempted to provoke Black the Reject or Potter. Black the Reject had hearing problems and Potter glared and walked away.
The only time he’d been approached by anyone in the last month was when Black Number Two dropped his wand in his breakfast the morning after the Melee Under the Willow. She dropped it as if it was a disgusting object, right into his plate of food. Without a word, she turned and headed straight for the Gryffindor table, where an irate looking Potter sat, with a glum looking Pettigrew at his elbow. She threw herself in front of Potter and they began to have what looked like a heated conversation.
Evans, it was clear, had no idea what was going on. She appeared glad that Black Number Two was willing to fill the empty space Black the Reject left at the table. Suffering Potter and Pettigrew would cause anyone to go insane. Severus did not understand why Evans always sat near Potter. She claimed to hate Potter.
Severus let out a loud puff of air and went back to doing what he had been doing before he allowed his anger to distract him. He chopped his roots up and glared at the directions. The author of the book was a complete imbecile. The pillock had obviously never actually brewed any thing worth using before in his life. Each potion in the book was wrong. While Severus would never admit it, figuring out what exactly was wrong with each potion was harder without Black Number Two. She always seemed to just know where the problems were. She did not always know what the problem was, but she knew where it was and after prodding, she’d remember what they ought to do.
“It happens when a Potions Mistress lives with you. Even if you suck at Potions,” Black Number Two had groused. “Especially when you suck.”
And now, thanks to Black the Reject, she was gone.
Severus even missed her disastrous potions that didn’t come out right because even after telling him the changes to fix it, she’d follow the directions. Or something.
She was really dismal at potions.
“OH MY GOD.”
Severus jerked up and looked in the direction of the Gryffindors. Severus expected to be met with an exploded cauldron or something along those lines— as Lupin was over there and he couldn’t even boil water— but all he saw was a rather irate Black Number Two waving a silver knife around.
“This is the DUMBEST author in the whole world! Why can’t he write the directions correct?” she ranted, the knife in her left hand coming close to slashing through Potter and Evans. Potter and Evans ducked away from her.
What occurred next happened in slow motion. Black Number Two waved her hand forward to make her next outraged point and the knife suddenly flew out of her hand, sailing across the room at Severus. Thinking quickly, Severus ducked. Black the Reject, though, failed to take note of her outburst as the next noise in the room was a shocked yelp of pain from Sirius Black.
“Is there a knife in my chest?”
“Ohmigod,” Black Number Two gasped, putting her hands over her mouth.
The classroom was silent. A pin could have dropped on the stone floor and it would have been heard by each student.
Black stared at the silver knife that was poking out of his chest, right above where his heart was rumored to be. Severus doubted Black actually had a heart, especially after proving that at age seventeen he was more than willing to kill.
“I so did not mean to do that, Professor,” Black Number Two gasped. “I-I-I was just upset that this stupid guy who wrote this book is clearly a certifiable moron. I mean, look at this! I followed the directions! I’m a complete fail at potions, yet I even know these directions will yield crap!”
“You just knifed me.”
Black the Reject seemed to be in shock.
“I didn’t mean to!”
Where was the professor?
“You threw a knife and it is embedded in my chest.”
“I could have been aiming at Snape’s head!”
“But you didn’t hit him! And you would have missed his head! Look, his head, my chest. You would have stabbed him in the chest too!”
“Don’t you know anything about physics? The motion of an object, and the speed…the trajectory will change for an object flying through the air as gravity pulls it unless something reacts against the pull of gravity or something! I never took advanced physics! The point is, I might have been aiming at his head!”
“BUT YOU HIT ME!”
“Well, maybe the powers that be thought you deserved it?”
Black Number Two now had her hands on her hips. Everyone seemed to have forgotten the fact Black had a knife sticking out of his chest.
Severus was interested to know if it was indeed an accident. How had she managed to throw the knife with such force to lodge it in Black the Reject’s chest from all the way across the room? Even if she was trying on purpose, it’d be a feat. On accident, it was highly unlikely.
“Yeah, more than likely,” Black said, slumping suddenly.
“Miss Black! You will…you will…”
The room all startled when Professor Slughorn attempted to do something. He looked at a loss on what to do about the attempt at murder that had taken place in front of a classroom full of witnesses.
“Serve detention the rest of this year. That’s correct, Professor Slughorn. I will. Now, I think I’ll drag Black to the nurse. Come along, James.”
Potter jumped a few feet at being addressed, but hurried over to Black and pulled him off his stool. Black Number Two, for her part, tore the door open and waited for Potter to drag Black the No Longer Likely to be Rejected out. Black seemed to have lost the will to walk. The cause was either from blood loss or realizing he was a huge git.
After the classroom door slammed shut, Professor Slughorn attempted to get the rest of the class to get back to work, assuring everyone that Black the No Longer Likely to be Rejected would be all right. Evans pointed out it was an accident and Black Number Two shouldn’t serve detention for the rest of the year. Tragically, Slughorn agreed.
The world was…rotten.
As he went back to work, Severus grudgingly thought Evans was right in her assessment.
It was an accident. Black Number Two had been correct when she stated the knife would have hit Severus in the head had he not ducked. Since he doubted Black Number Two wished to murder him in the first place, it was likely an accident. There was no way she’d been aiming for Black.
Black Number Two had looked horrified after she realized she’d stabbed Black. Black Number Two wasn’t a great liar. While she could conceal her emotions behind a pureblood mask, when she forgot herself, her emotions shown brightly.
With the matter solved as much as possible in his head, Severus turned to his other problems. Problems that tragically concerned Blacks. And made worse by the actions of a different Black. However, he felt he had gathered enough information to make a decision.
The Dark Lord wanted Regulus Black. He was part of an old, ancient, pureblood family. Of course the Dark Lord wanted Regulus Black.
Why the Dark Lord wanted Atlanta Black was beyond Severus, but he knew his assignment. It’d was easier to do when she was speaking to him, but he had a very good feel for her and knew she would never come quietly. She was too…good. Black Number Two would not be swayed to the Dark Lord. She did not believe in what they were fighting for. She liked Muggles.
What Regulus Black saw in the girl was beyond Severus. (Okay, not that beyond. She was not an ugly girl.)
By the end of class, Severus concluded the best way to get Atlanta Black was through Regulus. And to get Regulus to come quietly, all Severus needed to do was write a letter to a Bellatrix Black.
Smirking, Severus gathered his things and left the classroom.