Here's a little bonus fic for the Summer Fest. My "official" exchange fic is progressing nicely; meanwhile, this one's for the entire Underground. It was originally going to be just a short riff on the joke that inspired it, but it morphed into a larger and slightly satirical story of Escape from Hogwarts. ;-)
Title: Professor Grunge
Author:![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
bohemianspirit
Genre: AU, Satire, Gen
Main Character: Severus
Rating: PG-13, for language
Summary: Upon graduating from Hogwarts, Severus pursues an employment opportunity in the northwestern United States, with somewhat unexpected results.
Notes: Yet another variation on the Infinite Possibilities of the Life of Schroedinger's Snape. ;-) Crack, maybe. Definitely cracked. And cracking. Written for the Snapedom Summer Fest 2008 and dedicated to Sev's Underground. Rock on!
WARNING!!! WARNING!!! Severus Snape gets to have a HAPPY LIFE!!!
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Professor Grunge
1
On the eve of graduation from Hogwarts, Severus Snape sat nursing a butterbeer in Hogsmeade. He held in his other hand an official invitation to a small and exclusive party at Malfoy Manor next month, attendance at which, Severus knew, would represent formal presentation of himself for initiation into the ranks of the Death Eaters.
He sighed and put the invitation away, wondering if it were already too late to decline it. Then he sipped his beer and wondered why he was wondering any such thing.
"If it's opportunities you seek," said a stranger, suddenly at his side, "you might have a look at this." The stranger thrust a leaflet at Severus, who reflexively took it and had a look.
Cascade Creative Academy of Seattle.
"Where the hell is Seattle?" muttered Severus. But the stranger had left, leaving no answers, so, shrugging, Severus tucked the leaflet inside his robes.
Later, when he was getting ready to turn in for the night, he pulled out the leaflet and examined it. Cascade Creative Academy, an alternative high school for the wizarding community of the Greater Seattle Area, was recruiting teachers in all subjects. International applicants were not only welcome but encouraged to inquire.
Severus frowned. Seattle, Washington, on the far side of the American continent. Far away from England, from Scotland--
From Lily.
I'm never going to win her back.
Severus sat, staring into the darkened room.
He was never going to win her back. She had chosen Potter. She was engaged to be married to Potter.
All at once it was clear to him, the path he had been on these past few years. Magic had brought Lily to him when they were children. When Lily had begun to drift away from him, he had assumed that magic--better, stronger, more impressive magic--would win her back. He saw now what childish delusion that had been. Their last row at the end of fifth year had been merely the culmination of a break long in the making: a break born of Lily's choosing, no matter what path he chose.
Severus turned his attention back to the leaflet, to Seattle, and pondered.
Within forty-eight hours he was making arrangements to leave Great Britain and try his fortune in Seattle.
"I expect I'll be back within a few months," he told Lucius Malfoy, to whom he said only that he had personal business to attend to which had arisen suddenly and could not be delayed.
But the minute he set foot on American soil, Severus felt an overwhelming sense of liberation. For the first time in his life, he was wholly and completely free: free from expectations, free from longstanding prejudices, free from the influences and evaluations of all of the people who had known him all of his life. Enemies. Friends. Everyone.
And he knew that even if the opportunity in his hand amounted to nothing, he was never going back.
2
"Impressive." The interviewer, one "Oh-just-call-me-Mark" Bloomquist, nodded approvingly at Severus' transcript from Hogwarts. "Very impressive. We can always use good people in defense, no doubt about it, and I'd love to have you on board. But--" He leaned forward, clasping his hands before him on his desk. "Here's the deal: Cascade Creative Academy, like the vast majority of magical schools in the United States, is doubly certified. In other words, Severus, we need to meet the standards of not only the magical community but of the state boards of education, as well."
"Muggle education?"
Mark wrinkled his nose. "We prefer to say 'nonmagical.' The term 'Muggle' has fallen out of favor in recent years." He leaned back in his chair, contemplating the ceiling as he touched his fingertips together lightly. "American magical culture, Severus, may be somewhat different than what you are used to. From what I've heard." He looked again at Severus. "With the exception of a few isolationist groups, the American magical community works and lives within the context of the larger, nonmagical world, not in separation from it. We walk in both worlds, Severus. Many of us have family in both worlds. Of course there is always the need for discretion in the exercise of our magical gifts, but the regulation of that exercise is not, shall we say, repressive." He paused, gazing steadily at Severus.
"Go on," said Severus, keeping his eyes fixed on Mark's.
Mark nodded. Something relaxed in his face, and Severus had the sense of having passed a test he had not known he'd been taking.
"Well, then. In order to teach at a state-certified secondary educational institution, you need to be certified by the state to teach secondary education." He grinned, and Severus nodded. "I won't lie to you: It's a challenging curriculum. You'll be doing double duty, as it were, taking both magical and nonmagical classes to earn your degree. The former, of course, appear only on your magical transcript; only the nonmagical coursework appears on your official transcript for the state. Now," Mark glanced at Severus' application, "if you're looking to major, say, in defense against the dark arts, then you'll take your second major--the one the state sees--in a subject that will complement your DADA studies: language arts, drama, music, to name a few common choices."
Severus nodded.
"Of course, Severus, there's more to it than simply teaching the academic subjects. Here at Cascade Creative Academy, we strive to teach--and model--good character and sound ethics. Our goal is to prepare our students to be exemplary citizens in both the magical community and the greater, nonmagical world. Among other things, that means we teach methods of constructive conflict resolution and enforce a policy of zero tolerance for bullying."
Severus raised one eyebrow. "I can live with that," he said.
Mark Bloomquist arranged for Severus to prepare and test for a certificate demonstrating completion of secondary-level education. Then, with the guidance of Mark Bloomquist, and the cooperation of smiling university officials who acted as liaisons to magical students, Severus navigated the application process in time to enroll as a college freshman, under a full scholarship, for the fall semester of 1978.
"Welcome to the university within the university!"
Severus, along with about a dozen other freshmen, followed their orientation guide through large double doors that to nonmagical eyes would appear to be an expanse of unbroken brick wall. Through the entrance they stepped into a vast open foyer that led into a large hall filled with chairs and tables.
"Haley Hall, your magical home for the next four years. Study lounge, snack bar, classrooms and labs--everything but the dorms. It'd be kind of hard to keep those hidden," their guide grinned, "but it just sorta kinda happens that the only students who get assigned to Watterson Hall are magical students. University's got to know you have a place to live, but they don't need to know your, um, extracurricular activities." Everyone, even Severus, laughed. "There are plenty of wards and charms on Watterson Hall to give you a place to relax and be your magnificent, magical selves without freaking out the rest of campus. Just don't let it get out of hand, okay? We don't want to have to explain why we need money to rebuild a building that appears to be perfectly fine." She jerked her head to one side, motioning the group forward.
In his first month at the university, Severus heard, "Oh, God, I love your accent!" so many times, he began to wonder if his name had been changed to God. He supposed he'd get used to it, but meanwhile it was rather jarring to be singled out for admiration, especially for something as trite as the way he'd spoken all his life.
He chose to study music in addition to defense against the dark arts. Even while still at Hogwarts he had discovered the healing potential of music in countering dark spells; and here, at least, people understood that one had to study the dark arts in order to learn how to effectively counter them. His chosen university, unlike the school he had left behind, valued the same things Severus valued: brilliance, creativity, imagination, competency. They had little use for foolish acts of "bravery" and senseless risk-taking. Severus quickly distinguished himself in both his magical and his nonmagical coursework, and before long he found himself being admired for more than his manner of speech.
He definitely needed time to get used to that.
Another thing he discovered was that American witches and wizards didn't wear robes, except, rarely, for very formal or ceremonial occasions. Severus chafed, at first, but reluctantly conceded that wizarding robes were impractical when interacting on a daily basis with nonmagical people. So he allowed himself to be guided on an expedition to a thrift shop, where he assembled a wardrobe of shirts and jeans that were as good as a uniform on his campus.
One morning in the middle of autumn, Severus was awakened by a timid but persistent tapping on his window. He opened his eyes, and felt his heart stop.
An owl.
He pushed himself out of bed, walked over and opened the window, and let the owl in. It was all he could do to contain his trembling as he untied the scroll fastened to the owl's leg. Malfoy? Avery? Surely not Voldemort himself; he had other means of--
Severus froze.
Then, shaking himself, he seized the parchment and snapped it open.
Dear Severus,
I just wanted to let you know that I never really approved of some of the things that James and Sirius did to you in school. Even if you were kind of an oddball who hung out with future Death Eaters, I guess my friends still took the teasing a bit too far, sometimes.
And then you didn't even end up joining the Death Eaters, as we all thought you would. And one of my very own friends in Gryffindor did. At least, I'm pretty sure he must have, because he let slip what Avery and Mulciber and the others in your old crowd are saying about you. For all of your aspirations, it appears they consider you to be a small loss to their ranks, and do not expect you will ever come back.
No need to reply, Severus; if the owl returns to me empty, I will know you got my message, and that will be enough.
Good luck,
Remus Lupin
A thrill of relief surged through him so powerfully that Severus reached for a sheet of paper and a pen and hastily scrawled:
Apology accepted. Happy in America. No response required or desired.
He rolled it up tightly, fastened it securely, and sent the owl on its way back to Remus Lupin.
As soon as the day's classes were done, Severus invited a few of his new friends to go out with him to a bar, where they passed the evening downing multiple beers to the accompaniment of live music. Some girls joined their table, and soon they were all laughing and flirting and jostling one another. It was that night that Severus met his first real girlfriend.
He spent the rest of the semester, and the rest of the school year, fearing that it might be too good to be true. And, too, he feared that he might have been too hasty in revealing he lived now in the States. But by the time school let out for summer, Severus still had not been contacted by anyone, foul or fair, from the wizarding world of Britain, and he still had a girlfriend, though not the same one.
At the beginning of his sophomore year, Severus declared his major in secondary education for choral music, which was what would appear on his official transcript for the state. His magical major, in defense against the dark arts, had of course been settled within his first semester at university. In addition to his major studies, Severus developed a keen interest in classroom management and adolescent psychology, particularly in the subject of bullying.
He devoured texts about the psychology and prevention of bullying as avidly as he had always immersed himself in the defense against the dark arts. He found many connections between the two. His senior paper addressed correlations between the phenomenon of bullying and the abuse of magical power, the need to study defense against both kinds of abuses, and the necessity to apply a preventative, not only defensive, approach against the use of the dark arts.
Over the course of his education, in which he associated increasingly with the nonmagical world as well as the magical, Severus had gradually let go of the anti-Muggle prejudice he had learned in his youth. He still despised his father, and the neighborhood bullies who had made his childhood a torment, but he no longer blamed it on the fact that they had been Muggles. After all, Potter and Black had been pureblood wizards. By the time he graduated with honors in May of 1982, Severus had grown accustomed to blending the magical and the nonmagical worlds into one way of life.
3
"Welcome back, Severus!"
Severus, standing by the coffee pot in the teacher's lounge, gave a clipped nod to Principal Mark Bloomquist. "Thank you."
"All set to start teaching?"
No, I've spent the past four years lolling about the campus lawn smoking dope and Transfiguring my textbooks into bongs.
"Of course." He poured coffee into a paper cup and sipped carefully.
The first class of his first day was sophomore choir. Severus was standing at the podium at the front of the room, reviewing the score for the first song they were going to read that day, while the students filed into the choir room and onto the risers. Severus happened to glance up as a young man who utterly reeked of entitlement strutted into the room, his head high.
"Out of my way, Stevens," the young man said to a withdrawn-looking youth, in an undertone he apparently thought Severus would not hear. Stevens furrowed his brow, clearly not wanting to yield but afraid to say so.
"Ahem."
The arrogant young man jerked and turned towards Severus.
"What is your name?" asked Severus.
There was the slightest hesitation before he answered. "Jay Palmer."
"Mr. Palmer." Severus spoke softly, his eyes never leaving those of the boy. "There will be no bullying in my classroom."
Palmer blinked, once, then shrugged and worked his way down to a gap in the row of students.
With a snap of his wand Severus fetched and distributed a stack of sheet music amongst the rows of students. He surveyed the class, meeting the eyes of each student in turn. Then, waving his wand towards the piano, he arpeggiated the opening chord of the song. "I trust all of you have been trained in sight singing. If not, you will learn." He held his wand poised, like a baton, and with a snap of his wrist led his charges into the music.
"Ummm, Mr. Snape?"
Mr. Snape.
"Yes--Scott?" he asked Stevens, who was the last to leave.
Scott shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I, uh--thanks." He offered a flicker of a smile. "That's all."
Severus shrugged. "It is the policy."
Scott nodded, shifted some more. "Yeah. I know. But, it's like, you don't just do it, you really mean it." He glanced up once more. "Thanks," he said again, then quickly slipped away into the corridor.
Apparently the rest of his students had drawn the same conclusion as Scott Stevens, for Severus quickly found himself in control of his classroom, in all of his classes. Once students realized that no nonsense would be tolerated by Mr. Snape, it became blessedly easy for him to focus on the subjects at hand. Severus poured himself into discussing the dark arts and the defense against the same; he immersed himself in creating music and explaining the theory thereof; he waxed passionately about using music to counter the dark arts. He, who had always thought himself singularly unimpressive in presentation, seemed to have uncovered a gift for capturing and holding the attention of a roomful of students. At times he even glimpsed signs that his enthusiasm for the magic and the music was becoming their own.
One challenge he faced was getting through to some students that charming and popular were not the highest virtues to which one might aspire.
"Come on, Pamela!" With no effort at all he blocked the student's pitiful effort at a hex and sent a watered-down rejoinder which knocked her flat.
The young woman looked up at him, widening her eyes in appeal. She started to scramble to her feet, only to be knocked flat again.
"I'm not interested in how prettily you can flutter your eyelashes at me for a better grade," Severus snapped.
She pouted. "That was mean."
"Mean?" repeated Severus, fixing his eyes on her.
"Yeah, mean," she retorted. "I thought you hated bullying."
Severus stopped short and regarded her thoughtfully.
"I do," he finally answered. "But I also hate to think that you won't be alive to visit me in ten years because I failed to do my job in preparing you to protect yourself against bullying."
He was aware that the entire class was watching as the two of them held each other's gaze.
"All right." Pamela scrambled to her feet and looked at him defiantly. "I'm ready."
Severus raised one eyebrow. "Are you?" he softly inquired. And once again, the hexes were flying, though this time the girl did seem to be paying closer attention.
It took some practice, and more than a few blunders, for Severus to find the right balance between too sharp and too soft, but he was determined that his students would have a better experience of school than he had known. He was equally determined that they would leave his classroom fully empowered to stand on their own two feet.
Setting his jaw, he reviewed his lesson plans for the coming week, making last-minute additions and improvements.
In the middle of his first year of teaching, Severus noted that a few of his students began to show up to class with lank, stringy, greasy hair.
He felt the old anger rise up in him: Greasy git! Ever heard of shampoo? Wash your hair!
He did wash it, damn it. And damn them. Fuck them. Fuck them all.
Then he realized: They weren't mocking him. They were emulating him.
Americans.
He thought they'd get over it, once they got used to him, and once they discovered he wasn't really worth emulating. Not only did they not get over it, the fad caught on like wildfire. By the time summer vacation arrived, greasy, unkempt hair had become all the rage at Cascade Creative Academy. Severus, for the first time in his life, found himself in the peculiar position of having the neatest hair in his classroom.
In his second year of teaching, Severus found his stride. He learned how to challenge his students without forfeiting their respect, mastering the subtle art of pushing them to their limits without pushing them over the edge. As he grew comfortable in his role, he relaxed and let his sense of humor emerge. One-liners began to fly as fast and frequently as spells in his classrooms, and his students thrived on the challenge of trying to best Mr. Snape at his own game. They rarely did, but it amused Severus to watch them try.
As autumn cooled into winter, Severus started wearing a plaid flannel shirt over his clothes. The students began to imitate him. He felt very strangely unsettled.
A few years into his teaching career, some of his choir students joined with some of the band students to form garage bands. Thus began a music trend, a sound claimed as Seattle's own. They gave it a name: grunge. And his students began to call him Professor Grunge. And Severus found that he did not mind in the least.
The lyrics to the songs of the new sound did tend to be too despondent for his taste. And then, having thought that, Severus wondered what the hell had happened to him.
He could be proud, thought Severus, as he watched the latest graduating class ascend to the stage one by one to receive their diplomas from Principal Bloomquist. His students consistently demonstrated brilliance, creativity, and a superior level of competency in their magical as well as nonmagical disciplines. Increasing numbers of his young graduates were dedicating themselves to the dream Severus had harbored since his university days: combining a commitment against bullying with the use of music and magic to heal wounds, prevent further injuries, and constructively create a culture in which power was found within oneself rather than in dominating others. Dark lords were made, not born, and it pleased Severus to think that he himself was proactively defeating future wielders of the dark arts by preventing some of them from ever arising.
Ten years into his teaching career, when grunge had become a nationwide phenomenon, Severus was voted Cascade Creative Academy's Teacher of the Year.
He made it through the official ceremony with due composure, but the next Monday he found all of his music students, and more than a few alumni, gathered in the choir room to present him with their own award:
Here's to Mr. Snape, Professor of Grunge and Best Teacher EVER.
Damn him, he nearly cried.
4
Some years on, after the grunge fad had faded into commodification, Severus got an owl at the end of the school year.
It had to be from Britain. The American magical community had long ago taken to using telephones, and now e-mail, instead of medieval messenger-bird systems.
Severus methodically unlaced the scroll from the owl's leg and slowly unrolled it.
Godric's Hollow
24 May, 1998
Dearest Sev,
Hi! Surprise! Bet you didn't expect to hear from me after all these years! I have news which I am sure you will be very glad to receive, so I send this out trusting Puffkins will find you, wherever you are. I heard you had gone to the States. True? My goodness, I'll bet you sound like such an American by now!
Well. Here's the news: You-Know-Who is GONE. That's right! Gone, for good! The Order learned that he had used six Horcruxes--really Dark Magic, so I am sure you are familiar with it--to keep himself from ever being killed. Splitting his soul into seven pieces--can you imagine? So Dumbledore sent James on a mission with our Harry to find and destroy the six Horcruxes. It meant Harry would have to miss school, of course, but Dumbledore granted him leave, because Harry is just that bright and would have no problem making up the lost work in time to graduate at the top of his form.
But sad news: Dumbledore is dead. Yes, it is true. Early in the hunt for the Horcruxes, Dumbledore found one of them and was fatally wounded by a curse it bore. Fortunately he lived long enough to give his blessing to Harry, and to James, but we really could have used your skills in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and in Potions. A pity you weren't here to help him. Still, I am sure that you are serving bravely, wherever you are now.
James and I have three children in all: Harry James, whom I just told you about, Lily Sue, and Albus Sirius. I wanted to name him Albus Severus, in honor of the friendship of our dear childhood days, but when I suggested it to James he absolutely flipped. Can you believe it? Personally, I think he was being a bit of an arse, but don't tell him I said that. *wink*
Here's hoping this letter finds you well. I can't tell you how glad I am, Sev, that you never did join the Death Eaters. They're a rotten crowd, and I never could understand what you saw in them.
Affectionately,
Lily
Severus glanced up, thinking how his wife certainly would have "flipped" had he wanted to name their Missy after a former rival.
His wife looked at him inquiringly.
"A letter from an old friend," he said, setting it aside.
Title: Professor Grunge
Author:
bohemianspiritGenre: AU, Satire, Gen
Main Character: Severus
Rating: PG-13, for language
Summary: Upon graduating from Hogwarts, Severus pursues an employment opportunity in the northwestern United States, with somewhat unexpected results.
Notes: Yet another variation on the Infinite Possibilities of the Life of Schroedinger's Snape. ;-) Crack, maybe. Definitely cracked. And cracking. Written for the Snapedom Summer Fest 2008 and dedicated to Sev's Underground. Rock on!
WARNING!!! WARNING!!! Severus Snape gets to have a HAPPY LIFE!!!
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Professor Grunge
1
On the eve of graduation from Hogwarts, Severus Snape sat nursing a butterbeer in Hogsmeade. He held in his other hand an official invitation to a small and exclusive party at Malfoy Manor next month, attendance at which, Severus knew, would represent formal presentation of himself for initiation into the ranks of the Death Eaters.
He sighed and put the invitation away, wondering if it were already too late to decline it. Then he sipped his beer and wondered why he was wondering any such thing.
"If it's opportunities you seek," said a stranger, suddenly at his side, "you might have a look at this." The stranger thrust a leaflet at Severus, who reflexively took it and had a look.
Cascade Creative Academy of Seattle.
"Where the hell is Seattle?" muttered Severus. But the stranger had left, leaving no answers, so, shrugging, Severus tucked the leaflet inside his robes.
Later, when he was getting ready to turn in for the night, he pulled out the leaflet and examined it. Cascade Creative Academy, an alternative high school for the wizarding community of the Greater Seattle Area, was recruiting teachers in all subjects. International applicants were not only welcome but encouraged to inquire.
Severus frowned. Seattle, Washington, on the far side of the American continent. Far away from England, from Scotland--
From Lily.
I'm never going to win her back.
Severus sat, staring into the darkened room.
He was never going to win her back. She had chosen Potter. She was engaged to be married to Potter.
All at once it was clear to him, the path he had been on these past few years. Magic had brought Lily to him when they were children. When Lily had begun to drift away from him, he had assumed that magic--better, stronger, more impressive magic--would win her back. He saw now what childish delusion that had been. Their last row at the end of fifth year had been merely the culmination of a break long in the making: a break born of Lily's choosing, no matter what path he chose.
Severus turned his attention back to the leaflet, to Seattle, and pondered.
Within forty-eight hours he was making arrangements to leave Great Britain and try his fortune in Seattle.
"I expect I'll be back within a few months," he told Lucius Malfoy, to whom he said only that he had personal business to attend to which had arisen suddenly and could not be delayed.
But the minute he set foot on American soil, Severus felt an overwhelming sense of liberation. For the first time in his life, he was wholly and completely free: free from expectations, free from longstanding prejudices, free from the influences and evaluations of all of the people who had known him all of his life. Enemies. Friends. Everyone.
And he knew that even if the opportunity in his hand amounted to nothing, he was never going back.
2
"Impressive." The interviewer, one "Oh-just-call-me-Mark" Bloomquist, nodded approvingly at Severus' transcript from Hogwarts. "Very impressive. We can always use good people in defense, no doubt about it, and I'd love to have you on board. But--" He leaned forward, clasping his hands before him on his desk. "Here's the deal: Cascade Creative Academy, like the vast majority of magical schools in the United States, is doubly certified. In other words, Severus, we need to meet the standards of not only the magical community but of the state boards of education, as well."
"Muggle education?"
Mark wrinkled his nose. "We prefer to say 'nonmagical.' The term 'Muggle' has fallen out of favor in recent years." He leaned back in his chair, contemplating the ceiling as he touched his fingertips together lightly. "American magical culture, Severus, may be somewhat different than what you are used to. From what I've heard." He looked again at Severus. "With the exception of a few isolationist groups, the American magical community works and lives within the context of the larger, nonmagical world, not in separation from it. We walk in both worlds, Severus. Many of us have family in both worlds. Of course there is always the need for discretion in the exercise of our magical gifts, but the regulation of that exercise is not, shall we say, repressive." He paused, gazing steadily at Severus.
"Go on," said Severus, keeping his eyes fixed on Mark's.
Mark nodded. Something relaxed in his face, and Severus had the sense of having passed a test he had not known he'd been taking.
"Well, then. In order to teach at a state-certified secondary educational institution, you need to be certified by the state to teach secondary education." He grinned, and Severus nodded. "I won't lie to you: It's a challenging curriculum. You'll be doing double duty, as it were, taking both magical and nonmagical classes to earn your degree. The former, of course, appear only on your magical transcript; only the nonmagical coursework appears on your official transcript for the state. Now," Mark glanced at Severus' application, "if you're looking to major, say, in defense against the dark arts, then you'll take your second major--the one the state sees--in a subject that will complement your DADA studies: language arts, drama, music, to name a few common choices."
Severus nodded.
"Of course, Severus, there's more to it than simply teaching the academic subjects. Here at Cascade Creative Academy, we strive to teach--and model--good character and sound ethics. Our goal is to prepare our students to be exemplary citizens in both the magical community and the greater, nonmagical world. Among other things, that means we teach methods of constructive conflict resolution and enforce a policy of zero tolerance for bullying."
Severus raised one eyebrow. "I can live with that," he said.
Mark Bloomquist arranged for Severus to prepare and test for a certificate demonstrating completion of secondary-level education. Then, with the guidance of Mark Bloomquist, and the cooperation of smiling university officials who acted as liaisons to magical students, Severus navigated the application process in time to enroll as a college freshman, under a full scholarship, for the fall semester of 1978.
"Welcome to the university within the university!"
Severus, along with about a dozen other freshmen, followed their orientation guide through large double doors that to nonmagical eyes would appear to be an expanse of unbroken brick wall. Through the entrance they stepped into a vast open foyer that led into a large hall filled with chairs and tables.
"Haley Hall, your magical home for the next four years. Study lounge, snack bar, classrooms and labs--everything but the dorms. It'd be kind of hard to keep those hidden," their guide grinned, "but it just sorta kinda happens that the only students who get assigned to Watterson Hall are magical students. University's got to know you have a place to live, but they don't need to know your, um, extracurricular activities." Everyone, even Severus, laughed. "There are plenty of wards and charms on Watterson Hall to give you a place to relax and be your magnificent, magical selves without freaking out the rest of campus. Just don't let it get out of hand, okay? We don't want to have to explain why we need money to rebuild a building that appears to be perfectly fine." She jerked her head to one side, motioning the group forward.
In his first month at the university, Severus heard, "Oh, God, I love your accent!" so many times, he began to wonder if his name had been changed to God. He supposed he'd get used to it, but meanwhile it was rather jarring to be singled out for admiration, especially for something as trite as the way he'd spoken all his life.
He chose to study music in addition to defense against the dark arts. Even while still at Hogwarts he had discovered the healing potential of music in countering dark spells; and here, at least, people understood that one had to study the dark arts in order to learn how to effectively counter them. His chosen university, unlike the school he had left behind, valued the same things Severus valued: brilliance, creativity, imagination, competency. They had little use for foolish acts of "bravery" and senseless risk-taking. Severus quickly distinguished himself in both his magical and his nonmagical coursework, and before long he found himself being admired for more than his manner of speech.
He definitely needed time to get used to that.
Another thing he discovered was that American witches and wizards didn't wear robes, except, rarely, for very formal or ceremonial occasions. Severus chafed, at first, but reluctantly conceded that wizarding robes were impractical when interacting on a daily basis with nonmagical people. So he allowed himself to be guided on an expedition to a thrift shop, where he assembled a wardrobe of shirts and jeans that were as good as a uniform on his campus.
One morning in the middle of autumn, Severus was awakened by a timid but persistent tapping on his window. He opened his eyes, and felt his heart stop.
An owl.
He pushed himself out of bed, walked over and opened the window, and let the owl in. It was all he could do to contain his trembling as he untied the scroll fastened to the owl's leg. Malfoy? Avery? Surely not Voldemort himself; he had other means of--
Severus froze.
Then, shaking himself, he seized the parchment and snapped it open.
Dear Severus,
I just wanted to let you know that I never really approved of some of the things that James and Sirius did to you in school. Even if you were kind of an oddball who hung out with future Death Eaters, I guess my friends still took the teasing a bit too far, sometimes.
And then you didn't even end up joining the Death Eaters, as we all thought you would. And one of my very own friends in Gryffindor did. At least, I'm pretty sure he must have, because he let slip what Avery and Mulciber and the others in your old crowd are saying about you. For all of your aspirations, it appears they consider you to be a small loss to their ranks, and do not expect you will ever come back.
No need to reply, Severus; if the owl returns to me empty, I will know you got my message, and that will be enough.
Good luck,
Remus Lupin
A thrill of relief surged through him so powerfully that Severus reached for a sheet of paper and a pen and hastily scrawled:
Apology accepted. Happy in America. No response required or desired.
He rolled it up tightly, fastened it securely, and sent the owl on its way back to Remus Lupin.
As soon as the day's classes were done, Severus invited a few of his new friends to go out with him to a bar, where they passed the evening downing multiple beers to the accompaniment of live music. Some girls joined their table, and soon they were all laughing and flirting and jostling one another. It was that night that Severus met his first real girlfriend.
He spent the rest of the semester, and the rest of the school year, fearing that it might be too good to be true. And, too, he feared that he might have been too hasty in revealing he lived now in the States. But by the time school let out for summer, Severus still had not been contacted by anyone, foul or fair, from the wizarding world of Britain, and he still had a girlfriend, though not the same one.
At the beginning of his sophomore year, Severus declared his major in secondary education for choral music, which was what would appear on his official transcript for the state. His magical major, in defense against the dark arts, had of course been settled within his first semester at university. In addition to his major studies, Severus developed a keen interest in classroom management and adolescent psychology, particularly in the subject of bullying.
He devoured texts about the psychology and prevention of bullying as avidly as he had always immersed himself in the defense against the dark arts. He found many connections between the two. His senior paper addressed correlations between the phenomenon of bullying and the abuse of magical power, the need to study defense against both kinds of abuses, and the necessity to apply a preventative, not only defensive, approach against the use of the dark arts.
Over the course of his education, in which he associated increasingly with the nonmagical world as well as the magical, Severus had gradually let go of the anti-Muggle prejudice he had learned in his youth. He still despised his father, and the neighborhood bullies who had made his childhood a torment, but he no longer blamed it on the fact that they had been Muggles. After all, Potter and Black had been pureblood wizards. By the time he graduated with honors in May of 1982, Severus had grown accustomed to blending the magical and the nonmagical worlds into one way of life.
3
"Welcome back, Severus!"
Severus, standing by the coffee pot in the teacher's lounge, gave a clipped nod to Principal Mark Bloomquist. "Thank you."
"All set to start teaching?"
No, I've spent the past four years lolling about the campus lawn smoking dope and Transfiguring my textbooks into bongs.
"Of course." He poured coffee into a paper cup and sipped carefully.
The first class of his first day was sophomore choir. Severus was standing at the podium at the front of the room, reviewing the score for the first song they were going to read that day, while the students filed into the choir room and onto the risers. Severus happened to glance up as a young man who utterly reeked of entitlement strutted into the room, his head high.
"Out of my way, Stevens," the young man said to a withdrawn-looking youth, in an undertone he apparently thought Severus would not hear. Stevens furrowed his brow, clearly not wanting to yield but afraid to say so.
"Ahem."
The arrogant young man jerked and turned towards Severus.
"What is your name?" asked Severus.
There was the slightest hesitation before he answered. "Jay Palmer."
"Mr. Palmer." Severus spoke softly, his eyes never leaving those of the boy. "There will be no bullying in my classroom."
Palmer blinked, once, then shrugged and worked his way down to a gap in the row of students.
With a snap of his wand Severus fetched and distributed a stack of sheet music amongst the rows of students. He surveyed the class, meeting the eyes of each student in turn. Then, waving his wand towards the piano, he arpeggiated the opening chord of the song. "I trust all of you have been trained in sight singing. If not, you will learn." He held his wand poised, like a baton, and with a snap of his wrist led his charges into the music.
"Ummm, Mr. Snape?"
Mr. Snape.
"Yes--Scott?" he asked Stevens, who was the last to leave.
Scott shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I, uh--thanks." He offered a flicker of a smile. "That's all."
Severus shrugged. "It is the policy."
Scott nodded, shifted some more. "Yeah. I know. But, it's like, you don't just do it, you really mean it." He glanced up once more. "Thanks," he said again, then quickly slipped away into the corridor.
Apparently the rest of his students had drawn the same conclusion as Scott Stevens, for Severus quickly found himself in control of his classroom, in all of his classes. Once students realized that no nonsense would be tolerated by Mr. Snape, it became blessedly easy for him to focus on the subjects at hand. Severus poured himself into discussing the dark arts and the defense against the same; he immersed himself in creating music and explaining the theory thereof; he waxed passionately about using music to counter the dark arts. He, who had always thought himself singularly unimpressive in presentation, seemed to have uncovered a gift for capturing and holding the attention of a roomful of students. At times he even glimpsed signs that his enthusiasm for the magic and the music was becoming their own.
One challenge he faced was getting through to some students that charming and popular were not the highest virtues to which one might aspire.
"Come on, Pamela!" With no effort at all he blocked the student's pitiful effort at a hex and sent a watered-down rejoinder which knocked her flat.
The young woman looked up at him, widening her eyes in appeal. She started to scramble to her feet, only to be knocked flat again.
"I'm not interested in how prettily you can flutter your eyelashes at me for a better grade," Severus snapped.
She pouted. "That was mean."
"Mean?" repeated Severus, fixing his eyes on her.
"Yeah, mean," she retorted. "I thought you hated bullying."
Severus stopped short and regarded her thoughtfully.
"I do," he finally answered. "But I also hate to think that you won't be alive to visit me in ten years because I failed to do my job in preparing you to protect yourself against bullying."
He was aware that the entire class was watching as the two of them held each other's gaze.
"All right." Pamela scrambled to her feet and looked at him defiantly. "I'm ready."
Severus raised one eyebrow. "Are you?" he softly inquired. And once again, the hexes were flying, though this time the girl did seem to be paying closer attention.
It took some practice, and more than a few blunders, for Severus to find the right balance between too sharp and too soft, but he was determined that his students would have a better experience of school than he had known. He was equally determined that they would leave his classroom fully empowered to stand on their own two feet.
Setting his jaw, he reviewed his lesson plans for the coming week, making last-minute additions and improvements.
In the middle of his first year of teaching, Severus noted that a few of his students began to show up to class with lank, stringy, greasy hair.
He felt the old anger rise up in him: Greasy git! Ever heard of shampoo? Wash your hair!
He did wash it, damn it. And damn them. Fuck them. Fuck them all.
Then he realized: They weren't mocking him. They were emulating him.
Americans.
He thought they'd get over it, once they got used to him, and once they discovered he wasn't really worth emulating. Not only did they not get over it, the fad caught on like wildfire. By the time summer vacation arrived, greasy, unkempt hair had become all the rage at Cascade Creative Academy. Severus, for the first time in his life, found himself in the peculiar position of having the neatest hair in his classroom.
In his second year of teaching, Severus found his stride. He learned how to challenge his students without forfeiting their respect, mastering the subtle art of pushing them to their limits without pushing them over the edge. As he grew comfortable in his role, he relaxed and let his sense of humor emerge. One-liners began to fly as fast and frequently as spells in his classrooms, and his students thrived on the challenge of trying to best Mr. Snape at his own game. They rarely did, but it amused Severus to watch them try.
As autumn cooled into winter, Severus started wearing a plaid flannel shirt over his clothes. The students began to imitate him. He felt very strangely unsettled.
A few years into his teaching career, some of his choir students joined with some of the band students to form garage bands. Thus began a music trend, a sound claimed as Seattle's own. They gave it a name: grunge. And his students began to call him Professor Grunge. And Severus found that he did not mind in the least.
The lyrics to the songs of the new sound did tend to be too despondent for his taste. And then, having thought that, Severus wondered what the hell had happened to him.
He could be proud, thought Severus, as he watched the latest graduating class ascend to the stage one by one to receive their diplomas from Principal Bloomquist. His students consistently demonstrated brilliance, creativity, and a superior level of competency in their magical as well as nonmagical disciplines. Increasing numbers of his young graduates were dedicating themselves to the dream Severus had harbored since his university days: combining a commitment against bullying with the use of music and magic to heal wounds, prevent further injuries, and constructively create a culture in which power was found within oneself rather than in dominating others. Dark lords were made, not born, and it pleased Severus to think that he himself was proactively defeating future wielders of the dark arts by preventing some of them from ever arising.
Ten years into his teaching career, when grunge had become a nationwide phenomenon, Severus was voted Cascade Creative Academy's Teacher of the Year.
He made it through the official ceremony with due composure, but the next Monday he found all of his music students, and more than a few alumni, gathered in the choir room to present him with their own award:
Here's to Mr. Snape, Professor of Grunge and Best Teacher EVER.
Damn him, he nearly cried.
4
Some years on, after the grunge fad had faded into commodification, Severus got an owl at the end of the school year.
It had to be from Britain. The American magical community had long ago taken to using telephones, and now e-mail, instead of medieval messenger-bird systems.
Severus methodically unlaced the scroll from the owl's leg and slowly unrolled it.
Godric's Hollow
24 May, 1998
Dearest Sev,
Hi! Surprise! Bet you didn't expect to hear from me after all these years! I have news which I am sure you will be very glad to receive, so I send this out trusting Puffkins will find you, wherever you are. I heard you had gone to the States. True? My goodness, I'll bet you sound like such an American by now!
Well. Here's the news: You-Know-Who is GONE. That's right! Gone, for good! The Order learned that he had used six Horcruxes--really Dark Magic, so I am sure you are familiar with it--to keep himself from ever being killed. Splitting his soul into seven pieces--can you imagine? So Dumbledore sent James on a mission with our Harry to find and destroy the six Horcruxes. It meant Harry would have to miss school, of course, but Dumbledore granted him leave, because Harry is just that bright and would have no problem making up the lost work in time to graduate at the top of his form.
But sad news: Dumbledore is dead. Yes, it is true. Early in the hunt for the Horcruxes, Dumbledore found one of them and was fatally wounded by a curse it bore. Fortunately he lived long enough to give his blessing to Harry, and to James, but we really could have used your skills in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and in Potions. A pity you weren't here to help him. Still, I am sure that you are serving bravely, wherever you are now.
James and I have three children in all: Harry James, whom I just told you about, Lily Sue, and Albus Sirius. I wanted to name him Albus Severus, in honor of the friendship of our dear childhood days, but when I suggested it to James he absolutely flipped. Can you believe it? Personally, I think he was being a bit of an arse, but don't tell him I said that. *wink*
Here's hoping this letter finds you well. I can't tell you how glad I am, Sev, that you never did join the Death Eaters. They're a rotten crowd, and I never could understand what you saw in them.
Affectionately,
Lily
Severus glanced up, thinking how his wife certainly would have "flipped" had he wanted to name their Missy after a former rival.
His wife looked at him inquiringly.
"A letter from an old friend," he said, setting it aside.
Professor Grunge, indeed :-)
Love the connections you draw between bullying and misuse of the Dark Arts! And between magical healing and music. Although I must admit, grunge always struck me as being less like healing than the Dark Arts... possibly even an Unforgivable. Certainly nothing like magic. :D
But a Severus who can imagine lolling about the campus lawn smoking dope and Transfiguring my textbooks into bongs has definitely got the Seattle spirit!
Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun! I can just see skinny Snape in black grunge clothes - waving his baton. Er, wand. Er... Hmm.
Re: Professor Grunge, indeed :-)
Heh. "Good-bye, Mr. Chips" was the first thing that sprang to mind when I saw what direction this thing was going to take, but "Mr. Holland's Opus" is pretty much a modern version of the same thing. Can you tell I had fun writing this?
But then, Severus has a "Missy," OMG.
Generic nickname for a little girl, but her actual name probably is Melissa, which I think Severus would like well enough. He'd never name an owl "Puffkins," though, even if he still used owls. ;-)
Love the connections you draw between bullying and misuse of the Dark Arts! And between magical healing and music.
THANK YOU. That was the serious point in an otherwise silly story, and I am so glad you made a point of letting me know you appreciated it.
Although I must admit, grunge always struck me as being less like healing than the Dark Arts... possibly even an Unforgivable.
Awwww... I never was into grunge, myself, but I'm not gonna go that far. ;-) Anyway, I'm not saying Severus was literally teaching the grunge style in his music classes (for magic or otherwise), just that he inspired the look that the original youthful creators of grunge adopted. I figure he drew on a more classical tradition, and possibly old folk-music traditions, in teaching students to craft magical melodies.
But a Severus who can imagine lolling about the campus lawn smoking dope and Transfiguring my textbooks into bongs has definitely got the Seattle spirit!
Hee hee. I've only been in Seattle once, and not as a college student, but I can assure you that my first exposure to the existence of bongs was on a college campus. The real question is: was Severus able to Transfigure bongs into textbooks? "Shit. Forgot my 20th-century Music History text. Borrow your bong?"
Re: Professor Grunge, indeed :-)
"Shit. Forgot my 20th-century Music History text. Borrow your bong?"
ROFL!
Of course, think of the decades of puling wizard kids Snape managed to transform into adults at Hogwarts - adults who could even brew potions safely. excepting the Weasley twins of course :D No greater transformation can there be!
...Sure hope someone illustrates this story (with or without bongs) ... it's a jewel!
Re: Professor Grunge, indeed :-)
In your story, you have Snape using his wand as a baton, waving it at the piano to play the starting chord. Now, he learned music at college from Muggles (or mostly), but as soon as he started using his wand as a baton, there must have been a lot of magic flying around when he conducted, no? I'm trying to imagine all the kinds of cross-over spells there could be! Not just sung charms like the Sectumsempra healing, but charmed singing.
There's wonderful unmapped terrain here... JKR missed out on this one! (But she may be one of those people who are so common since the 60's - listening to bands, maybe even playing in one, but never actually studying music.) Tiranog's "Stitch in Time" stories come to mind, but I can't think of any other fics off-hand that play off the close similarities between magic charms and musical charm, spoken spells and sing-spiels.
Are there many other HP fics in which the magic/music interplay is really explored? (As in the similarity you point to, not simply Snape-is-in-a-band fics.)
Cool move. Very thought-provoking (in with the funneh) - and thus, very typically you.
Snape as the origin of grunge cracked me up, of course
As I said above, I had in mind that he simply inspired the look, and, perhaps, the creative enthusiasm that drove his students to invent the sound. Originally, what prompted this story was the thought that if only Severus had been teaching in Seattle instead of at Hogwarts in 1991, nobody would have made fun of his hair; he'd have fit right in! And the story sort of took off from there...
but the whole idea of his students emulating him is really kind of sweet
I like it. ;-) And perhaps in canon he had some positive influences on his Slytherins. I imagine he had a hell of a conflict of conscience watching Draco slide into Death Eaterdom, and feeling helpless to do anything to stop him without blowing his own cover.
Perhaps this really is what Snape could have been had he been given the right environment in which to flourish.
Deus ex machina bits aside ;-) ... yes. That's the idea. As I had him say here, Dark Lords are made, not born.
But seriously, these days I do like the idea of exploring what might/should have been if only.... Snape's especially fun for that, but I've also seen some nice fics on what would have happened if Harry had been less dismissive with Draco before the sorting ceremony or, even better, if Dumbledore hadn't left him stuck with the Dursleys. The possible repercussions for not only Harry but also many of the other kids in his year are pretty interesting to explore. Not as interesting as the many Snape scenarios, but pretty cool nonetheless. (Come to think of it, I like it best when Snape is the paternal figure to Harry, lol!
And yay for deus ex machina!
In his first month at the university, Severus heard, "Oh, God, I love your accent!" so many times, he began to wonder if his name had been changed to God. He supposed he'd get used to it, but meanwhile it was rather jarring to be singled out for admiration, especially for something as trite as the way he'd spoken all his life.
*writes this down as something not to say to him when I finally track him down*
Severus poured himself into discussing the dark arts and the defense against the same; he immersed himself in creating music and explaining the theory thereof; he waxed passionately about using music to counter the dark arts. He, who had always thought himself singularly unimpressive in presentation, seemed to have uncovered a gift for capturing and holding the attention of a roomful of students.
Yay for his gift for dramatic passion still coming out!
Then he realized: They weren't mocking him. They were emulating him.
Americans.
Ahahahahaha!!!!
*writes this down as something not to say to him when I finally track him down*
I'm sure Severus won't object if you call him "God." Or at least single him out for admiration... but do it gently. Canon!Severus may still be wallowing in crappy self-image, even ten years after the war.
Yay for his gift for dramatic passion still coming out!
Well, even a healthier, happier version of Severus is still Severus. ;-) "Snape hated teaching" trope notwithstanding, it appears to me that he actually enjoyed the work, itself. It was the circumstances in canon under which he taught that he hated.
Ahahahahaha!!!!
Heh. Yep. I know my fellow Americans well enough to know what trendoid sheep they can be. ;-) Though I must admit that what makes me laugh most is the paragraph preceding what you quoted: "He did wash it, damn it. And damn them. Fuck them. Fuck them all." An occasional relapse into Petulant!Severus is to be expected, after all.
lol. I meant gushing over his lovely accent. I'm prone to do that.
By the time I finished writing this, I found myself wishing I had gone to Cascade Creative Academy. ;-) Granted, it's a rather utopian scenario--my own high school was obsessed with athletics and the arts were always fighting to stay alive, and I think most people did not have the benefit of a school consciously committed to countering bullying. Maybe CCA was run by magical Quakers: Picture Severus sitting in staff meetings that take three hours while they all work to reach consensus. ;-)
I love writing "what might have been" scenarios, especially for characters who get screwed over in their canons. I'm glad you enjoyed this!
It was hilarious, and yet sweet at the same time, when Snape's students started emulating his greasy hair, and later his flannel shirts. Professor Grunge, indeed!
Oh, and the letter from Lily cracked me up, particularly the reference to "Lily Sue"!
I truly believe that there's a bit of magic in music--even the kind made by us Muggles, and yes, even grunge. ;-) Even the most angry and despondent songs of that genre at least have a sense of cathartic release in them, I think. And Pearl Jam in particular has a nice mixture of despondency and hope in their music, imho--and they get bonus points for doing a song about a neglected, bullied kid ("Jeremy").
As I read, I was thinking to myself, now this is how Snape could have turned out, with a bit of understanding and guidance from a caring mentor, instead of someone who just wanted a pawn to manipulate.
Yep. That was the serious storyline that emerged from my original crack idea of, "If only Severus had been teaching in Seattle in 1991, nobody would have made fun of his hair, he'd have fit right in!" I really think the idea of "Dark Lords are made, not born," is an important one; in real life, Severus might not have found so utopian an environment, but in real life, he also might not have been coming from so thoroughly dystopian an environment to begin with. I mean, jeez. Even people with really crappy backgrounds usually have some highlights along the way, not relentless misery and rejection.
On the subject of wanting a pawn to manipulate, well, my theory is that Dumbles would have manipulated Severus no matter what he did or what he chose or how hard he decided to reform himself (see Severus Evans), so it's probably best for him just to get the hell out of there altogether. Oh, which reminds me, I loved that story you recced in which he goes to the school in Arizona. ;-) Should we stage a "Get the Hell Out of Hogwarts" fest sometime this fall or winter? :-D
Oh, and the letter from Lily cracked me up
Heh. Good. It was meant to. ;-)
particularly the reference to "Lily Sue"!
Heh again. ;-) Subtle as a ton-o-bricks nod to the fandom usage.
I truly believe that there's a bit of magic in music
Oh, absolutely. The scene in which Severus heals Draco in HBP is one of the most moving things in the entire series, and one of the few places in which we get a glimpse that there is a Real Human Being behind the Snarling Nasty Bastard. (So sorry to those who expected Severus to be nothing more than Snidely Whiplash with a teaching post, but... nope.) As I've said to other commenters, it's his students that invented the music; Seveus merely provided the inspiration to create--and the inspiration for the look they adopted--as a teacher they respected and looked up to. And yes, I think he could have been respected, and of course was respected among at least some of his Slytherins. But we rarely get to see that in canon, because we are looking through Gryffindor Eyes.
Thanks for the heads-up about the Pearl Jam song! Grunge really isn't my genre, so it's always good to know what's out there on themes I write about and discuss.
I'm so glad that you liked "Banished"--I've just started reading it over again after reading your comment! ^_^ And yes, by all means, let's have a "Get the Hell Out of Hogwarts" fest!
Love the balance between the magical and muggle world in American wizarding culture and *sigh* your Teacher!Snape is so awesome. It's so easy to see canon Teacher!Snape being like this with the right foundation and support.
*saves to memories*
Thank you! It started out as a silly joke about Severus and his greasy hair fitting in with the grunge scene in the early 90s, but turned into something more substantial, and I am glad you found it moving. I am very partial to writing AU, exploring the other possibilties for a character that didn't get written in canon, and in the case of Severus Snape there are just so many areas in which his environment, rather than "who he was," played a crucial role in shaping his direction in life.
Love the balance between the magical and muggle world in American wizarding culture
Thank you! I'm sure it has flaws of its own, but American culture is far too laid-back and informal to allow the kind of rigid culture and separation of the British Wizarding World. I'm not sure even the British NON-wizarding world would be at home, in this day and age, in the British Wizarding World. The WW sure turned out to be more of a nightmare than a dream, didn't it?
It's so easy to see canon Teacher!Snape being like this with the right foundation and support.
Yeah, it is, if you look at the glimpses we get of him "behind the scenes" and not just the child's-eye view of a Snidely Whiplash villain that we get in the early books. As I said in the story, Dark Lords are made, not born.
Total agreement. Yes, he made his choices and that's his burden to bear. But I don't see how anyone can say that the treatment he received from the Marauders and Lily and especially Dumbledore didn't lead to his being disposed to making those decisions. But this will just lead me to ranting about how if Dumbledore is the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had, then that was one seriously fucked-up school for a millennium.
American culture is far too laid-back and informal to allow the kind of rigid culture and separation of the British Wizarding World.
I can't imagine American wizarding culture logically being able to sustain that level of separation. We're too nosy. :) As for the WW being a nightmare, well, that could also set me to ranting so I'll just say "hear, hear."
As for canon Teacher!Snape, his opening speech in SS/PS about Potions and his vigilance in the classroom is enough to convince me that Severus could have been a mighty fine teacher, personal past and current treatment by Dumbledore notwithstanding.
Finally, I forgot to mention Lily's letter. I love how she simultaneously manages to be oblivious to how insulting and condescending she's being and somehow rather endearing and childlike. It's like she never really grew up in her letter. Also, I like the implication that Harry would have had an appreciation for intellectual learning had his parents lived.
In any event, very good job.
Exactly! The good side effect of banging my head against such stupidity is that it's motivated me to start reading up on issues of bullying and abuse in schools. Number one reason kids cite for choosing who to bully: The target "didn't fit in."
Yep.
But this will just lead me to ranting about how if Dumbledore is the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had, then that was one seriously fucked-up school for a millennium.
LMAO! Ten points to the house of your choice, as long as it's not Gryffindor. :-P
I can't imagine American wizarding culture logically being able to sustain that level of separation. We're too nosy. :)
Heh. No lie.
I love how she simultaneously manages to be oblivious to how insulting and condescending she's being and somehow rather endearing and childlike.
Thanks. I was hoping people would appreciate that. ;-) But Harry's not really scholarly, just overrated by The Establishment and by his parents. ;-) I'm evil.
NO FAIR!!!!
I do agree, totally, that Severus would have been, ahm, opposed to bullying in all forms.
If he'd ever had the chance to articulate that.
Music and magic? I won't say, so canon, but so what was left out of JKR's impoverished canon.
Okay, I"ve calmed down now--thanks for the story. He would have fit in well here; it's why I came back, after all.
He'd currently be a poster on the bus: I think the socks and sandals guy, myself, but maybe one of the recumbent bikers.
Lily Sue, how great! But your withheld his own kids' names....
Serving bravely? How about living well? As in the saying: Living well is the best revenge....
Re: NO FAIR!!!!
If he'd ever had the chance to articulate that.
Ah, yes, that's the key. I think, in his own way, he was trying to counter the abuse and bullying he'd experienced in childhood. If you view the Gryffindors through Slytherin eyes, it makes sense: the Gryffindors are the bullies, and Slytherin can never do any right in their eyes. Slytherin is always the scapegoat in that school. Their virtues are overlooked, their vices magnified. And then people wonder why they circle their wagons and take refuge in the pureblood-superiority crapola. Which reminds me that I read, but have yet to comment on, your July 1st essay on that subject.
Music and magic?
I drew my inspiration from the scene where Severus heals Draco wiht the musical counter-curse to Harry's Sectumsempra. I've always found that a beautiful and moving scene--not to mention evidence that Severus' study of the Dark Arts was most likely motivated by wanting to understand how they worked so he could understand how to counter them and defend himself against them. But that requires using one's brain beyond a simplistic, "Oh, teh Dark Artz, they're eeeeevvvvuuullll, don't look, don't touch!"
Serving bravely? How about living well?
Heh. Well, yes. My point, exactly. I thought my irony was subtle as a ton of bricks, there. ;-)
As in the saying: Living well is the best revenge....
Oscar Wilde, if I recall correctly. Another master of snark. ;-)
Seattle is actually one of my favorite cities in the country, and I can just imagine how easily magical and Muggle worlds would intertwine there. It's that sort of place, where even "commonplace" things seem wondrous, skewed and defiantly creative. (Surely the Experience Music Project was made possible only through magical methods!) It's a great location for Severus to heal, find himself and make all the creative connections that he does here.
I love the connection between healing and music here, because that certainly does seem to be something we glimpse in canon Severus--he's the only wizard we've ever seen who combines music and healing together into a special kind of magic. It's great to see what he might have done with that knowledge, given the chance. I'm also pleased to see him finally relaxing into his own skin, away from the mockery and unfair expectations of his past. And of course, I'm terribly amused at the idea of Severus as the inadvertent epicenter of Grunge!
I also really like the letter at the end, because it makes perfectly clear how much Severus has changed over the course of the story--and how much Lily hasn't. Severus has grown beyond that world and beyond Lily herself. They weren't a good match, which has been made evident through time and distance.
Last but certainly not least... his daughter's name is "Missy"? :D I adore you for that; I'm sure you know why.
I am now inspired to take Severus "off the rails" so to speak and see how he thrives in different circumstances. As a Snape writer, I never seem to be able to pull him away from the strings that bound him after a certain age.
Well done, and thanks for the inspiration.