Home | Members | Help | Submission Rules | Log In |
Recently Added | Categories | Titles | Completed Fics | Random Fic | Search | Top Fictions
SS-Centric

The Werewolf Prank by xenasquill [Reviews - 2]

<< >>

Would you like to submit a review?

Detention with Pomona (Severus)
------------------------------------------------------------

Severus Snape suppressed a yelp as the fanged geranium he had just pulled out of its pot sunk its fangs into his forearm. He reached for it with his gloved right hand, then realized the stiff material would not permit him to handle the blasted flower without damaging it. Pulling the glove off with his teeth, he gently detached the fanged flower from his left arm before placing its little root ball into a larger pot. As Severus poured some loose soil into the pot, careful to avoid the snapping fangs of the angry flower, he looked furtively at the far end of the table to see whether his companion had noticed his predicament. He would hate to have given Black that satisfaction.

No, of course not, Severus thought, his lip curling. Black somehow managed to slouch elegantly against the battered old worktable while regarding the flower in front of him with a look of aristocratic hauteur that would doubtless have set a roomful of Gryffindor girls to giggling. Too busy practicing the pose to do any actual work, not that this surprised Severus in the slightest. Perhaps he could do something about that, though, he thought with a smile. Dropping his glove, he coughed loudly.

"Stop dilly-dallying and get to work, Mr. Black," said Professor Sprout, frowning at him over the shrivelfig pots she'd been rearranging. "You'll want to finish these and get going on the chomping cabbages before it gets too dark outside."

As she turned back to her pots, Black shot him a dirty look. Severus smirked back ostentatiously and reached for the next flower.

Working methodically through his bunch of flowers, though a bit more carefully than before, Severus reflected that Professor Sprout was living up to her House’s reputation for fairness. Black had tried to talk his way out of this detention, but she had simply informed him that there was no spellcasting in the greenhouses, and that was that. Apparently, there was one female in the school immune to Black’s charms….

Severus’s face heated as he remembered the incident that had landed them both in detention. He thought he had timed the hex on Potter perfectly, only to have it fly wide and nearly break one of the glass panes of the ceiling as Black’s spell had hit him. Of all the moments pretty boy Black had to pick to glance over at him….

Severus almost wished this senseless detention would last past curfew. He was not going to get any sympathy back in the dormitory. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match was Saturday, and not only had he failed with the hex, he had not even managed to get Potter into trouble. Why had he let Quigley and the others talk him into trying? Quidditch players. Severus shook his head and reached for another flower. At least Lily — who frowned on unprovoked hexing of any sort — had already left the greenhouse when it happened… that was another conversation he was not looking forward to.

Lost in his thoughts, Severus reached for the next flower only to discover that he had finished repotting all of them. He stacked the now-empty smaller pots neatly and placed them near others of their size on one of the shelves lining the greenhouse. Then he swept past Black, eyeing his group of remaining flowers with a contemptuous sneer.

“Professor Sprout, what is it you need me to do with the chomping cabbages?” Severus asked as he stood in front of her table. Professor Sprout looked up from the shrivelfigs.

“Finished already, Mr. Snape?” she asked, tucking a flyaway gray hair behind her ear and smiling at Severus. “Good work! I am afraid the cabbages are definitely a two-man job, though. With your help I am sure we can get Mr. Black’s geraniums squared away quickly as well, and then you can both get to work on the cabbages.” Severus bit back an indignant retort.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he mumbled, and returned to the worktable.

As he took his place next to Black and reached for one of the remaining geraniums, Black jumped away from him

"Stand back!" he exclaimed indignantly. "Godric,” he muttered, eyeing Severus with distaste, “how can anyone stand being so foul?"

Breaking pretty boy’s nose with the geranium pot was, sadly, not a practical response. Instead, Severus reached further to get an empty pot for his flower, making sure he brushed Black as he did so.

“If you can’t stand it, leave,” he suggested quietly, baring his teeth in a horrible semblance of a smile. He installed himself near the end of the table, ensuring he and Black would have to work elbow to elbow.

“Watch it, Snivelly,” Black spat, as he hurried away to the other side of the table, across from Severus. “You don’t want to find out what happens to greasy gits who —” He trailed off, seemingly unable to find words for what it was, precisely, that he wished Severus not to do, though his face expressed his dislike eloquently.

Severus repotted a plant, and reached for another.

“You think you can do anything, you and Potter, but you don’t own the school,” he hissed at Black, as he lifted the flower gently out of its pot.

“Gentlemen, a bit less chit-chat, please,” Professor Sprout called impatiently from behind her desk. Severus had to content himself with a sneer in response to the angry look Black shot him across the table.

As the fanged geraniums remaining on Black’s end of the table dwindled to none, Professor Sprout told them to dress for outside. They would be spending the rest of detention planting her new winter-hardy Tibetan Chomping Cabbages.

Severus tucked the scarf his mother had knitted him in green and grey stripes around his neck before donning the old peacoat of his father’s. It was now more grey than black, and the sleeves needed to be folded back, but it kept out the cold, some. Pretty boy, he saw, had brought his fine, black cashmere cloak to wear. He knew from Slytherin common room chatter that it was one of a pair that had been hand-tailored for him and Regulus. Just the thing to wear for digging holes in the ground.

“What?” asked Black, a look of annoyance on his face as he noticed the eyebrow Severus had raised incredulously.

“Oh, nothing,” Severus replied quietly. He could guess what Black might have to say about his attire, were the subject to come under discussion.

Professor Sprout, her ears covered in furry earmuffs, threw on a cloak and led the boys outside. She showed them a row of stakes where they were to dig holes, and led them to another greenhouse where the cabbages were being kept.

“All right, boys, get to it,” she said briskly, hanging her cape up on a peg with her earmuffs. “I’ll be in here preparing some ingredients for Professor Slughorn, so I’ll have my eye on you. No slacking, and no magic.”

Severus looked at Black, who was gazing cluelessly around the room. Snorting quietly, Severus located the tool rack and walked over to pick out a spade. Black had also started to walk over, then stopped as he noticed Severus, looking at the cabbages, then at him, in turn. Professor Sprout rolled her eyes.

“Mr. Snape, get out there and start digging,” she snapped. “Mr. Black, grab that barrow, and start moving the cabbages outside. One at a time, mind, this species is cannibalistic. Once you have them all moved, grab a spade and join Mr. Snape.”

Severus stepped outside into the damp cold again, and walked over to start on his task. He was soon puffing and sweating with exertion, since the frozen ground was hard. Occasionally, Black would show up and place a head of cabbage near its intended resting place. Severus could see he was deliberately moving as slowly as he could. No Muggle digging in the ground for him, hah. Severus sincerely hoped the carnivorous cabbages had a taste for pure Wizarding blood.

However much Black might malinger though, moving cabbages took less time than digging holes in frozen earth, so the time came when Black, too, came out with a spade. He started digging at the far end of the row, naturally. With a curl of his lip, Severus straightened and walked over to start digging the adjacent hole to Black’s, with renewed energy.

They worked in silence for a while. Severus was beginning to regret his lack of gloves. As the shadows lengthened, a cold wind picked up. His face was raw, and his hands were becoming numb. He stabbed his spade into the hole he had been digging and brought his hands to his mouth to warm them. As he stood, he saw a pair of figures emerging from the castle and setting out across the grounds. It was the school’s matron, Madam Pomfrey, accompanying, of all people, Remus Lupin, Black’s crony and a Gryffindor prefect.

Black, he saw, had stopped digging as well, and was watching his friend with a smile.

"Well, well," Severus said in a soft voice. Black whirled around, fixing him with an angry glare.

"Well what?" he demanded. He seemed tense.

"The Perfect Prefect disappears mysteriously into the night, once again," Severus said with a curl of his lip.

"Mind your own business, Snivelly," snapped Black, quickly turning back to the cabbages. "And get back to work, I want to go inside."

He must want very much to get off the subject, Severus thought, if it inspired him to return to digging. The opportunity to, at the very least, annoy Black further was not to be missed.

"You know, so many people wonder where he goes all the time," he continued
quietly, staring off toward the distant Whomping Willow, where the figures appeared to be headed. "There are many theories, of course, but..."

Black didn't respond. Severus got the distinct impression though, as Black gave his shovel a few angry kicks into the frozen soil, that Black was working very hard to direct his anger elsewhere.

“Where do you suppose he goes?" Severus persisted, turning to watch Black’s response closely.

"Sorry, couldn't tell you," Black answered loudly, tossing aside a
shovelful of dirt.

"Oh, but I think you could," Severus whispered. Black kept digging without looking up, but Severus was certain he had heard.

It was time for a little bluff. He thought he has seen Black, Potter, and Pettigrew sneaking out one night before Christmas, though he had not been able to determine whether Lupin was absent with Madam Pomfrey, or for other reasons.

"Or is it just a coincidence that the rest of your little group always sneak out of the castle after him?" Severus added.

The shovel slipped from Black’s fingers and fell to the ground with a thud as he whirled around to face Severus. Severus smiled triumphantly. Black’s reaction, and the dropping of the shovel, announced more clearly than any spoken affirmation could that his bluff had hit the target squarely.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Black said through clenched teeth. It was a game attempt at denial, but Severus was not fooled. He leaned casually on his spade and fixed his dark eyes on Black.

"Is anything the matter, boys?" Sprout called, emerging from the nearest greenhouse with a pair of enormous hedge clippers. Black shook his head; Snape resumed his digging, keeping an eye on Sprout as she walked off to trim some dangerous-looking shrubbery.

So, what had he learned? There was definitely something about Lupin’s disappearances and the others’ nocturnal activities that was making Black nervous. But what?

Well, the way to find out seemed clear. The line of questioning that had been interrupted by the inopportune arrival of Professor Sprout had clearly gotten under Black’s skin. As she disappeared back into the greenhouse, Severus resolved to see if Black was still nervous.

Straightening for a moment and stretching his back, Severus yawned and then said lazily, “You’re not… afraid… I’ll find out what you get up to, are you?”

Black’s grey eyes flashed, his fists clenching as he regarded Severus with a cold fury. Severus recognized the signs from his years in Muggle elementary. His logical side was telling him he did not want to engage the taller and heavier Black in a Muggle duel, but at the same time he longed to land a punch or two. If he could hurt Black… it would be worth what might come after. But Black, apparently, managed to control himself.

“Actually, the possibility that you might drip grease on me is of far greater concern,” he said coolly, taking a step away and digging with renewed vigor.

Severus was not going to let Black off that easily. “Oh, you just wait, Black,” he said calmly. “I know you and Potter are up to something, and I will find proof of your illegal activities, I assure you.”

Black’s arms twitched on the handle of his shovel, as he stopped for a moment, staring at the ground in front of him. Severus’s eyes narrowed as he watched Black carefully, newly cognizant that his adversary was holding a dangerous weapon. Black’s face, turned away from the rapidly fading light of the setting sun, could not be made out, but Severus could almost feel the anger boiling off him. Then Black stiffened slightly, and Severus fought an urge to step back out of reach of the shovel. But Black only turned his head and gave Severus an appraising sort of look.

"You want proof we’re sneaking out?" he said in a low voice. “There's a big knot on the side of the tree, and if you just prod it the whole thing freezes. Anyone can get in.” He paused. “I recommend using a long stick.”

There was a moment of tense silence as Severus considered what had just happened. Had his persistent needling of Black actually roused in him such unreasoning anger that he had let something slip? More likely, this was just a stupid attempt to induce him to approach the tree and make a fool of himself. He snorted loudly.

"Oh, of course," Severus said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "On your word, I'm going to approach a dangerous Whomping Willow and start poking it. It won't mind in the least.” He gave a derisive little laugh. “If you think I'd believe such a story, you are even more boneheaded than I had thought."

Black shrugged and calmly reached for a cabbage, apparently having said all he was going to on this subject.

Throughout the remainder of the detention, Severus considered what Black had told him. He had seemed much calmer, after he blurted out the supposed secret. Surely he did not believe Severus stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trick?

It occurred to Severus that it would be a very clever way to hide the truth, presenting it in a context in which it was certain to be disbelieved. Perhaps it would be worth checking out, carefully of course. But not tonight, Severus told himself. Even if Black’s story were true, it seemed from his earlier reactions that he and the others had plans to join Lupin. If those plans somehow involved the Willow, as Black suggested, he could be walking straight into an ambush.

No, the thing to do was to inspect the Willow on some future night, a night when Black and Potter were busy with something else. If Black was simply lying to make a fool of him, he would find this out, carefully, and no one need ever know. And if there were some truth to his claims — then Severus would see the effect of poking the mysterious knot on the tree, and it might provide a clue to the information he was truly after.

The Werewolf Prank by xenasquill [Reviews - 2]

<< >>

Disclaimers
Terms of Use
Credits

Copyright © 2003-2007 Sycophant Hex
All rights reserved