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Transposition by shadowycat [Reviews - 5]

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"Chapter 4: A Trying Afternoon"



McGonagall stalked around the Potions classroom and desperately tried to ignore the intense throbbing in her head. This little masquerade that she’d been forced into had just about done her in. Considering the state of her headache at the moment, keeping an unpleasant expression on her face wasn’t much of a challenge, but remembering where to direct it was.

Six times this afternoon she’d had to bite her tongue to keep from giving Mr. Malfoy and his cronies detention for their insolent behavior toward the other students. So far she’d managed to keep everyone fooled as to her identity, but class was only a little more than half over. How likely was it that she wouldn’t slip up and take 50 points from Slytherin before the afternoon was finished?

As she watched Malfoy lob a few newt eyes at the back of Ron Weasley’s head, she sighed. At the moment, she wouldn’t give herself any better odds of success than 50/50. Hoping that even Severus wouldn’t let him get away with something quite so blatant, she walked up next to Malfoy, leaned down and spoke in a menacing tone.

“I trust your potion is finished, Mr. Malfoy, and that you are ready to demonstrate its excellence to the class.”

Malfoy jumped and swallowed hard as he whirled around to face his professor. “Umm… No, Professor Snape, not yet. I’m almost done though.”

She straightened up and fastened one of Snape’s most intimidating glares on her face. “Then I would suggest you focus all of your attention on completing your work. You’ll have a much greater chance of success that way.”

Malfoy nodded quickly. “Yes, sir. Absolutely, sir.” He bent back to his potion and left tormenting his classmate for another time.

Satisfied that she’d avoided one unpleasant incident at least, she returned to prowling the classroom and somehow refrained from stopping to stare at the clock that hung on the wall near Snape’s desk, though she mentally willed it to move faster.

As class was finally nearing its end and she was beginning to think that pretending to be Snape wasn’t going to be so difficult after all, Neville Longbottom added one ingredient too many to an already off-color brew. Immediately, thick orange smoke began to pour from his cauldron, followed by its churning contents, which flowed quickly over the side and across the floor, managing to douse both Longbottom and his reluctant partner, Lavender Brown, in bright orange muck.

Everyone within arm’s reach of Longbottom and Brown screamed and scrambled out of the way as quickly as possible. While the class watched in horrified fascination, what should have been a fever reducing potion showed itself to be merely a reducing potion instead, as the unlucky duo, dripping orange liquid, found that their clothes were rapidly becoming far too tight to be allowed to remain on their bodies. Both students were forced to begin the process of stripping off all of their clothing while their flabbergasted classmates began to laugh and giggle in amusement and embarrassment.

McGonagall groaned and reluctantly waded into the fray. Briskly, she ordered Harry and Hermione to take off their school robes and give them to Neville and Lavender so they wouldn’t have to strip down to nothing in front of everyone.

Then she dismissed the rest of the class and told them to get out in a hurry, so that the hapless Gryffindors could remove the more intimate pieces of their wardrobe without a smirking audience. In the confusion, she finally remembered to loudly berate poor Neville and take 30 points from Gryffindor for his carelessness.

Unfortunately, in the process of shepherding the class out the door and trying to make sure that Neville and Lavender were decently covered, she neglected to watch where she was stepping, and her left foot ended up in a puddle of the troublesome potion along with the hem of her trousers and the edge of her robe as well.

Suddenly, McGonagall found herself in the same predicament as her students, and it didn’t seem quite so hard to yell at Neville Longbottom for his carelessness and stupidity anymore. In a voice drenched in annoyance, she ordered the two forlorn Gryffindors to clean up their mess before they could leave the classroom, then she wrenched the shrinking shoe off her foot and sprinted out of the room to get some new clothes before the ones she was wearing shrank down to an unmanageable size.

As her clothes became more and more constricting, McGonagall stood outside Snape’s rooms and tried to recall the counterspells for all the protective wards that he insisted on using to seal his door. My god, the man was absolutely paranoid! You’d think he had Ministry secrets hidden under his bed or something. Who’d want to break into his quarters anyway? The rest of the students and staff wanted to spend less time with him not more!

Finally, just as she thought she’d have to give up and was steeling herself for a run through Hogwarts half clothed, the final ward gave way, and she was able to open the door and escape into Snape’s private chambers. She threw herself inside and slammed the door in her wake. Then she wasted no time before stripping off the incredibly tight trousers and robe and sighing in blissful relief.

As much as she hated to admit it, Severus had a point. Neville Longbottom was a menace around anything volatile. Neville was a kind boy and he meant well, but spending time around him was extremely hazardous, particularly when he was trying to manipulate things with magic. She’d had a few incidents herself in Transfiguration class. She could only imagine the horrors of regular Potions sessions with the boy. Shaking her head, she realized that spending time in the body of her colleague could actually lead to better understanding between them; at least it might if she managed to survive the experience.

She glanced down at the trousers and robe that she’d removed from her body just moments before. They now looked as if even Flitwick might have difficulty wearing them. If Longbottom’s potion had been half as effective at reducing headaches as it was at reducing clothing, he could have looked forward to a lovely future as an apothecary.

Well, she’d better investigate Snape’s wardrobe. It wouldn’t do to appear in public clad in almost nothing but undergarments. She smiled to herself at the reaction she’d get if she paraded the Potions master’s body around the school half-naked. Her smile paled as she contemplated Snape’s reaction to that little daydream, and she shrugged philosophically. Oh well, no harm in merely thinking about it.

McGonagall crossed Snape’s sitting room without pausing to inspect anything. She’d been there before plenty of times and nothing was of particular interest to her, but the bedroom…ah, now that was a different story indeed. She’d certainly never had any reason to venture into the man’s private inner sanctum, so she had to admit to herself that she was a tiny bit curious.

Pushing open the door to the bedroom, she stepped inside and glanced around. A slight pang of disappointment flitted through her as she found herself faced with an ordinary, even rather boringly standard bedroom. A double bed with a green counterpane sat next to a small table topped with a couple of candles. Across the room was a fairly ordinary wardrobe, and in another corner sat a worn and comfortable looking reading chair with a stout table next to it that was piled high with books. There wasn’t so much as a picture or a tapestry to liven up the walls. She snorted to herself, well really, what had she been expecting? Dancing girls?

Shaking her head at her foolishness, she crossed over to the wardrobe and opened the door. Inside in meticulous order, hung Snape’s clothes. Four white shirts, three black jackets, four pairs of black trousers, three academic robes, also black, of course, and two black vests. How surprising. Severus was every bit as exciting a dresser as she’d always suspected. She poked her head inside to peek into the corners. No flashy outfits hidden away for that special occasion. The man could get dressed in total darkness and everything would match perfectly.

Another interesting thought struck her as she stared at the unrelieved blandness of a totally black and white wardrobe. Was it possible that he was colorblind? It would explain a lot. No, he couldn’t be colorblind and succeed at Potions; color often played a very important role in their success. Face it, Minerva. The man was simply boring…at least in his choice of attire.

With a shrug of her shoulders, she pulled out another pair of trousers and one of the flowing black robes. Then she bent down and pulled out one of the three identical pairs of black shoes as well. These she took over to the bed in preparation for putting them on.

As she was about to go hunting for socks, a familiar…yet slightly different sensation coursed through her. She turned her head and located the bathroom. Before she dressed, apparently it would be a good idea to make use of the facilities. She moved towards the door and froze in mid step. Her foot hit the floor painfully as her body came to an awkward halt. No…not her body…Severus’s body.

Her face flushed furiously as it suddenly dawned on her that in order to answer the call of nature, she was going to have to actually handle Severus’s body…intimately. Good lord! And he’d know that she’d done it! How could he help it?

The color drained from her face as the other shoe dropped. The same was true for Severus, wasn’t it? He was no doubt going to have the experience of seeing her body far more intimately than propriety should allow as well. Color shot straight back to her cheeks once more. How embarrassing. Could she ever look him in the face again?

Her sense of humor returned in a flash. Well, that would probably depend on what she saw when she took these clothes off now, wouldn’t it? They were both in the same boat after all.

So with a snort of laughter at her predicament, she continued on to the bathroom. There was no way she could hold it in for the remaining nineteen or so hours until this spell wore off, so she might as well make the best of it. Might prove to be more interesting than the bedroom anyway.

********************************************************


McGonagall swept into the Great Hall for dinner and glared around her in annoyance. It had been a very tiring and frustrating afternoon what with one thing and another. If she’d been herself, she’d have still been expected to walk sedately up to the table and nod pleasantly to anyone who spoke to her. Then once she’d sat down, she’d have been expected to make conversation with those around her no matter how she felt, and she’d have put on a nice face and done it, too.

Yet it dawned on her as she stalked up between the tables and watched the students cringe slightly and turn away from her, that none of that was expected of Snape. He could stalk around and glower at everyone. He could be as rude and uncommunicative as he chose and no one batted an eye. No one expected him to put on a happy face and be sweet and pleasant when his feet ached or his back hurt or he was simply exhausted or out of sorts. How come he could get away with it, and she couldn’t? Definitely something to think about.

As she reached the table and walked over to pull out her chair, Albus Dumbledore glanced up at her and smiled with a teasing twinkle in his eye.

“Ah, Severus, did you need to speak to me about something? Minerva hasn’t shown up for dinner yet, so I’m sure that she wouldn’t mind if you used her chair for a short time.”

McGonagall froze. Yes, damn it, the chair that she had her hand on was her chair, but it wasn’t Snape’s chair. Who’d have thought that habits were so deeply ingrained? Not at all happy with herself for making this mistake, she leaned over and hissed shortly in the Headmaster’s ear.

“This has been a very difficult day so far, Albus. Do not push me.”

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and leaned back so he could look his friend in the eye. “Of course not, Severus. In fact, please, feel free to stop by my rooms later if you wish. My door is always open to all of my staff, you know.”

She straightened up and glared down at the smiling wizard. “Thank you, but I plan to turn in early. Time moves more swiftly when one is asleep, and oblivion seems extremely attractive right about now.”

Then she turned and made her way back down the table to the correct chair this time. Unfortunately, the person who was sitting in the chair that was right next to it was Remus Lupin. Not exactly the person she most wanted to see at the moment. So giving the werewolf a sidelong glare, she must keep up appearances after all, she pulled out the correct seat and threw herself into it just as the food magically appeared on the table.

As she filled her plate and began to eat, Lupin smiled and addressed her quietly.

“How has your afternoon gone? I was told that you had a rather full class schedule. Any problems?”

“Problems? Why whatever makes you think that I might’ve had problems? Double potions with the Gryffindors and the Slytherins trying to subtly and sometimes not so subtly take pieces out of each other is such a relaxing class. I don’t know why in the world Severus ever complains,” she muttered in disgust.

Lupin smothered a smile. “No. I can imagine that it’s just one laugh after another. I’m rather grateful that most of my classes aren’t blended ones. I take it that no one suspected that anything might be wrong then?”

She sighed and shook her head. “No. No one seemed the least bit suspicious at all. I guess Albus was right. No one really looks past the face that’s staring at them, and as long as the actions and words come reasonably close to what one expects to see and hear, no one thinks twice about anything. Apparently, most of us are shockingly easy to fool. Frankly, I find that rather alarming, don’t you?”

Lupin’s face lost its smile as he considered her words. “Well, now that you mention it…yes. I suppose it is a bit disturbing at that.”

Silence reigned between them for awhile, then once she’d had a chance to assuage her hunger and rest her back for a bit, she turned her head and considered the chair next to the Headmaster which remained decidedly empty. Turning back to Lupin, she asked, “So where’s “Minerva” this evening? Did something nasty befall her this afternoon that I don’t know about?”

Thinking about the incident with Peeves, Lupin paused with his fork partway to his mouth. Should he tell her? He sighed and laid his fork down on his mostly empty plate. Probably it would be better if he did before she heard it from someone else. So he turned towards her and smiled uncomfortably. A feeling of alarm shot through her at his expression, and before he could speak, she got her words in first in a low, angry tone.

“Oh, no, tell me that man hasn’t done any more damage to my body. It’s bad enough that he can’t seem to stop himself from flinging it around the corridors. What’s he done now? Put me in the infirmary?”

Lupin shook his head. “No. No. Don’t worry. Minerva’s fine. I mean, you’re fine. I mean…oh, heck, don’t worry about that. It’s just…I mean…well, you see…” Before he could quite get the appropriate words out, Peeves came swooping down through the ceiling tossing flowers at everyone and singing at the top of his lungs.

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.

McGonagall’s mouth fell open along with everyone else’s, and then they all turned to stare at the now very red-faced Lupin whom Peeves was targeting with the last of his bouquet.

“What was going on in the Transfigurations classroom today once the students had gone? Shocking behavior, I think…” giggled the poltergeist.

By now, everyone in the hall was either laughing and pointing towards Lupin or talking loudly to each other about Peeves’s amusing performance. The little man looked quite proud of himself at the level of chaos that he was leaving in his wake until he caught sight of the outrage on the Headmaster’s face as he rose to his feet.

“Oops…got to go!” exclaimed Peeves, as he abruptly dropped the rest of his flowers on top of Lupin’s head and shot straight up through the ceiling. While Dumbledore calmed down the hall full of students, McGonagall fought an inner battle with herself. Never had she felt so angry, yet she couldn’t afford to show it.

If she were truly Severus Snape, she’d be smirking broadly at Lupin’s discomfort not wanting to tear the man limb from limb. So while inwardly seething, somehow she managed to stretch her lips into a smirk. Then she turned back to Lupin ready to quietly demand an explanation for this outrage only to find that his chair was now empty. Turning her head swiftly to see where he’d gone, she was just in time to catch a brief glimpse of him as he disappeared through the door in the wall behind the staff table. The coward.


Transposition by shadowycat [Reviews - 5]

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