"Chapter 3: Roses are Red, Violets are Blue"


As the cowed and somewhat confused class of first year Hufflepuffs made for the exit to the Transfiguration classroom at a dead run, Snape dropped down into the chair behind his temporary desk and emitted a huge sigh of relief.

Thank whatever deity watches over the unlucky, that that was over! What a nightmare. He’d always suspected Hufflepuffs were hopeless no matter what subject you were trying to cram into their little brains. As usual, it appeared he was right. What a surprise.

He groaned, kicked off his shoes, and yanked the stockings from his legs, kneading his sore feet firmly to try to ease some of the painful, tense knots out of them. Minerva’s idea of what constituted sensible shoes and his were obviously incredibly far apart. How could women stand to wear those things anyway? Why put themselves through it?

With a sigh of relief, he stretched out his feet and wiggled his toes. Oh, that felt so good. Snape found himself wondering if it would be too out of character for him to just wander around barefoot for the rest of the day. He smiled nastily…so what if it was? Minerva would be the one having to live with people thinking she’d lost her mind.

Now, there was a thought. He could do all sorts of interesting things and Minerva would get the blame. Who’d ever believe that it wasn’t her? Albus had been right; no one suspected a thing. Even Polyjuice wouldn’t be any more convincing. He could start some nasty rumors, make advances to Flitwick, or remove some questionable books from the restricted section of the library just to fluster Madam Pince. He chuckled to himself. Why the possibilities were endless.

As reality settled in and his smile faded, he sighed regretfully and shook his head. No. Albus knew about the switch. He’d make him pay dearly if he got Minerva into any trouble with his actions. Damned Gryffindors always stuck together. Oh, well, it was amusing to think about at any rate.

He glanced idly around the Transfiguration classroom. It felt rather strange to be teaching anywhere other than down in his own dungeon. This room was far too light and airy and far too uncluttered, as well. The whole atmosphere was overly cheery and uplifting. Still, it was a bit more challenging to intimidate a class under these circumstances, a bit more rewarding, as well.

At the moment, he was actually rather proud of himself. He’d managed to deduct a total of thirty points from Hufflepuff, reduce two students to tears, and give five students detention for a week. Minerva was going to find her evenings rather full when she returned to her body.

And best of all, he managed it without giving himself away! In fact the little monsters hadn’t even seemed all that surprised. Apparently, Minerva was quite the martinet in the classroom, herself. Pulling off this little charade had been much easier than he’d have ever imagined.

Still, he had to be a little bit careful. Hufflepuffs could be such fragile creatures. If you pushed the little twits too far they tended to combust. Then you found yourself having to pick up the messy emotional pieces. Gryffindors and Ravenclaws tended to be made of sturdier stuff. They were ever so much more fun to torment than Hufflepuffs, more of a challenge, too. Oh, well, you do what you can with what you have.

He sat up straighter in his chair and idly opened McGonagall’s grade book. What would he find if he checked up on a few people, hmm? My, my, Potter might be the apple of McGonagall’s eye, but she was pushing the bounds of credulity to call him one of her better students. Apparently flitting around on a broomstick really was all the boy was good for. Oh, there was Granger…perfect across the board that one. How boring. Maybe he should alter one or two of these grades and see if Minerva noticed?

As Snape was picking up a quill and humming to himself, there came a knock at the door. When he glanced up, he found his current top contender for least favorite person in the world standing in the doorway looking repentant.

The beleaguered wizard scowled blackly. “What do you want, Lupin? Haven’t you caused enough mayhem for one day?”

Lupin entered the room and closed the door behind him. “I’m sorry, Severus. How did the class go? Did you manage to fool everyone?”

Snape snorted and sat back in his chair. “It was a bunch of foolish little Hufflepuff first years. Filch could’ve fooled them into thinking he was Minerva if the light was dimmer in here.”

Lupin moved over to the desk with a tight smile on his face, still a trifle wary. “Good. That’s great. Then there won’t be any problems. This’ll be over before you know it.”

Snape closed the grade book with a snap and leaned over the desk to glare at Lupin. “You’d better hope that is indeed the case, Lupin, or else you’ll be sorry you ever displayed your appalling lack of ability in Charms when other people were around.”

“Well, there aren’t any more classes for you to deal with are there?” Lupin asked hopefully.

Snape leaned back and crossed his arms. “No, Minerva has a disgustingly light class load on Friday afternoons. However, I do not. She’s currently dealing with double Potions with the Slytherin/Gryffindor third years. You’d better hope she was the star of the show in those amateur theatricals that Albus was on about or this whole house of cards could still come tumbling down on your sorry head.”

Lupin looked a little nervous as he considered the possibilities. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. After all, from what I’ve seen, your teaching style seems to consist solely of standard intimidation techniques. As long as she yells a bit and stomps around and takes house points off Gryffindor, no one will ever know anything’s amiss.”

Snape sneered, “You’re a fine one to talk about teaching methods. In case you’re wondering, I have indeed heard all about your little Boggart demonstration.”

Suddenly even more uneasy, Lupin forced a smile. “Oh, really?”

Snape purred darkly, “Oh, yes. I’m sure you found it very amusing.”

“Now, Severus…”

“I also heard that you’re apparently afraid of crystal balls…or was it cheese? The students seemed to be a bit confused over that point. Perhaps I should enlighten them, hmm?”

Lupin swallowed nervously. He’d been afraid of something like this happening.

Suddenly, Snape sighed, dropped his head into his hand and began to massage his temple wearily.

“Lupin, just get out of my sight. The very last thing I wish to think about right now is you and the monumental deception that you’re perpetrating on the students of this school. It’s been a trying day, and all I want is some peace and quiet and a chance to soak my aching feet.”

Lupin came around the desk still hoping to be helpful and alleviate some of the tension between them. If he wanted to survive the school year, he needed to keep Snape pacified, and today’s little error hadn’t helped matters.

“What’s wrong with your feet? Did you injure yourself?”

Snape dropped his hand and glared sideways at Lupin. “I’ve dusted the floor and twisted my ankle far too often today because I’ve been forced to navigate on stilts! The aches, pains, and bruises will become Minerva’s problem tomorrow, but until then I have to put up with the agony.”

Before Snape could stop him, Lupin bent down and grasped the Potions master’s left foot in his hand and began to massage it. “I’ll bet I could help you with that little problem, Severus. I used to do this for my mother all the time when she’d had a long day on her feet.”

Snape jumped in his chair and opened his mouth to yell as his colleague grabbed his foot and began to rub, but before he could get the words out he found himself actually enjoying the feeling. “Lupin! What do you think you…oh…OH…god…don’t stop…Oh, that feels wonderful.” He leaned his head back against the back of the chair and sighed with relief as the aches in his arches and ankles began to melt away.

Lupin grinned, apparently the way to Snape’s good graces was through his feet at the moment. Maybe this would work out all right after all. “Feel better?”

“God, yes! You’re in the wrong profession, Lupin. You may be a dismal failure as a teacher, but you’d make an excellent masseur.”

Lupin grinned and shook his head resignedly as he switched to the other foot. “I’ll keep that in mind if I ever feel the need to try yet another career.”

As the werewolf knelt on the floor and rubbed his feet, Snape closed his eyes in bliss and leaned back in his chair. Emitting small happy moans whenever Lupin hit a particularly painful spot, he found himself enjoying the first peaceful and comfortable moment he’d had since this appalling situation began.

Just as Snape was thinking that maybe he’d survive this ghastly experience after all, something wet suddenly hit him between the eyes. Startled, he opened his eyes and looked up to see Peeves hovering over his head with a glass of water, which the poltergeist was carefully dribbling onto the bridge of his nose.

Peeves squealed in delight. “Oh, looky, looky, what I’ve found. Is Professor Loopy proposing? How precious!” The mischievous spirit giggled with glee and dumped the entire glass of water onto Snape’s forehead.

The shock from the cold water hitting his face, added to the surge of anger he felt at the poltergeist’s latest outrage, drove Snape up out of his chair in an unthinking instant. He jumped up, tripped over the startled Lupin, who still had a rather firm grip on his foot and the two of them went for a tumble, ending up on top of each other on the floor while Peeves swooped around the room laughing and singing in a loud voice.

Roses are red, violets are blue;
Loony kissed Minnie, will she say I do?
Happily smiling while rubbing her feet,
A wedding at Hogwarts would be a rare treat.

The poltergeist giggled gleefully. “Such happy news must be shared, indeed it must!”

As Snape and Lupin untangled themselves and started to yell up at the airborne troublemaker, Peeves spat a wet raspberry in their general direction and soared off through the ceiling. Though the poltergeist usually appeared to show some grudging respect for the professors, finding Lupin rubbing Minerva’s feet was apparently too great a temptation to resist…unfortunately.

Furious once more, Snape gave Lupin an angry shove away from him and struggled to his feet. “Well, that’s just lovely. A fitting end to a most appalling day!”

Lupin sat up and rubbed the back of his head, which had hit the floor rather hard when he’d been shoved. “What are you complaining about, Severus? Minerva and I are the ones who’ll take the brunt of Peeves’s little joke.”

Snape stared at the disgruntled wizard for a moment as he considered Lupin’s words, then his face broke into a small satisfied grin. “How perceptive of you, Lupin, and I must say that it serves you right!” His smile faded slightly at the thought of Minerva’s reaction to Peeves’s little tune.

As Lupin climbed back to his feet, Snape bent over and retrieved his shoes and stockings from under the desk and then headed for the doorway. “Well, at least my obligations for the afternoon are over. If anyone wants me I’ll be in Minerva’s quarters removing the heels from all of her shoes. Don’t expect me for dinner.”

Before he could take more than a few steps though, Lupin interrupted him. “Ah, not quite, Severus. I didn’t come to see you simply for the joy of your company. Do you remember the ballroom dancing class that Hooch is offering to all the students?”

Snape turned slowly and glared at Lupin. “Yes. I do remember. I also remember that it was deemed optional for any and all houses. Since optional means not required, I polled my students and not surprisingly none of them were interested, so I opted out.”

Lupin smiled politely. “Well, Minerva didn’t. She felt it would be good for the Gryffindors to learn a useful social skill, and I’m afraid that I’m here to remind you that the first lesson for the first, second, and third years is this evening. You’re required to chaperone, I’m afraid.”

Snape sighed, “As much as I am forced to agree that the Gryffindors could use some social skills, I refuse to spend my evening chaperoning the little hellions while they step all over each other’s feet!”

Lupin shrugged, “I’m afraid you don’t have any choice, Severus. Albus was the one who sent me to remind you about this. I’m pretty sure that he wouldn’t be too happy if you just didn’t show up.”

Snape continued to skewer Lupin with his very best death stare. It looked quite effective coming from McGonagall’s eyes, too, but Lupin continued bravely, or foolishly, depending on your point of view. “It’s at eight o’clock tonight in the Great Hall.”

“Do you have any idea just how thin the ice beneath your feet is at the moment you sorry excuse for a wizard?” Snape snarled.

Lupin headed for the classroom door as fast as he could, realizing that he’d probably overstayed his welcome by more than a little. “Sorry, Severus. Do wear some comfortable shoes,” he couldn’t resist adding, ducking as two shoe shaped projectiles made a beeline for his head, narrowly missing him as he managed to scoot out the door and around the corner at the last second.