The Sound of Silence - Harry Potter (Snape)

[AdrianMarx]

Severus Snape can’t smell a thing which is unusual given his position. As Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he spends most of his day swamped by the smell of inadequate brews concocted by incompetent students. Today, however, he finds himself incapable of smelling anything and, though he is loath to admit it, the likelihood is that it has something to do with the fact that he has a rather miserable cold.

He had suspected something foreign in his system when he'd lost his appetite halfway through dinner last night and had spent much of the remainder of the evening trying to ignore the headache steadily building behind his eyes. His marking had become much more aggressive and his comments in the margins snarkier as the night wore on and he'd eventually decided that sleep was what he needed most by the time the clock struck 11pm.

Far from well-rested, he'd awoken that morning to clogged sinuses and an overwhelming desire to stand under a jet of cold water until he froze.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Longbottom," he sneers, spelling the boy's potion away with a lazy flick of his wand. He smirks to himself when he sees Longbottom's signature shudder out of the corner of his eye. Pathetic. How that cowering child ever ended up in Gryffindor, he'll never know.

The relentless tickle which plagues him tends to wax and wean without ever really coming to anything for which he supposes he should be thankful. Having worked tirelessly for years to instil this kind of fear in his students, he doesn't intend to lose their respect over a trifling cold. Snape is quite certain that this first lesson will be a disaster by the end; he'll be lucky if even half of them manage to produce something non-poisonous. The Gryffindors are fairly hopeless, with the exception of Granger whose desperate desire to prove herself, while somewhat pathetic, serves her well academically. That said,he doubts she has the mindset to truly excel in potion making - her heart lies with instructions. She has not the mental ability to disregard the rules and invent.

"Class dismissed," he drawls at last, already nursing the onset of a migraine. Someone less stubborn than he might have seen Poppy for a healthy dose of Pepper-Up to get them through the day but Snape is nothing if not a stubborn bastard. "One roll of parchment on the uses of lacewing flies in water-based potions due tomorrow morning. Any student whose essay falls a half inch short of the required length will find themselves in detention."

He notices Weasley roll his eyes and smirks, calling over the din, "Five points from Gryffindor for attitude, Mr Weasley."

Weasley opens his mouth as though to object but thinks better of it, much to Snape's dismay. A good excuse to deduct house points from Gryffindor is just the pick-me-up he needs.

Snape mentally skims his schedule and groans inwardly. The second year Gryffindor/Slytherin class are only slightly more tolerable than Potter's insolent group of friends. In the blissful five minutes peace between Potter’s class leaving and the next arriving, Snape extracts a plain white handkerchief from his robes and blows his nose harshly. He takes a moment to rest his head in his hands, resisting the urge to rub his eyes lest they become red and give him away. The last thing he needs is his students thinking he’ll be any more forgiving when he’s under the weather.

The second years prove to be just as irritating as expected. Colin Creevey manages to produce possibly his most successful potion yet but, far from being in the mood to offer any semblance of encouragement, Snape shakes his head minutely and stalks past to inspect the cauldron of a Slytherin for whom he has high hopes.

The tickle returns with more force than before and Snape resigns himself to it after merely a minute of struggling. Without a word, he sweeps into the store cupboard and darts behind a shelving unit, handkerchief at the ready. The fit is short lived and silent but it leaves him with a burning itch in his sinuses which only increases his irritability. He consoles himself with the knowledge that this class will draw to a close in little over half an hour and then he’ll have a whole hour and a half to himself before he’ll have to make an appearance at lunch in the Great Hall.

(Also, he thinks wryly to himself, he’s taking Potter’s class for Defence Against the Dark Arts after lunch since Lupin is…incapacitated. No doubt they’re used to Lupin’s gentle ways by now. Oh, this will be fun.)

Having dismissed his class, Snape plans to hole up in his chambers until absolutely necessary and he’s halfway there when he begins to consider the drawbacks. Sleeping now will likely only heighten his grogginess. Perhaps he should go to Poppy for a potion and be done with it. He decides against this too, operating under the self-deception that Pepper-Up slows his reaction time. It does no such thing, of course, but convincing himself otherwise makes his apparently pointless stubbornness seem justified.

The staffroom it is then. No doubt he’ll be hounded by Minerva McGonagall for neglecting his health or some such nonsense but he’s definitely in the mood for a fight with the Gryffindor head of house. He’s been holding back some particularly nasty comments from the students today and Minerva is about the only teacher in the whole school able to match him in a verbal war. Dumbledore just doesn’t engage and Flitwick, though surprisingly resilient, tends to lose track of his argument quite quickly. The others are simply useless.

Snape takes purposeful strides down the dungeon corridors, squinting when he emerges into corridors which sport brighter lights. The change in brightness only aggravates his headache and further darkens his mood. That infuriating itch has returned but this time it builds from behind his eyes. He feels it spread to his nose and settle just at the bridge where it makes his eyes threaten to water. With one long finger, Snape swipes firmly at his sternum in a way which plainly implies that he won't stand for any more of this nonsense and if this virus doesn't cease the war it's waging right now he shall almost certainly take drastic action.

Much to his dismay, it pays little attention and he has to duck into an empty classroom along the way to stifle a particularly strenuous fit which leaves him leaning against the wall for support, breathing heavily. A soft noise outside the door makes him hold his breath instinctively and for the briefest of moments he thinks he’s back at Spinner’s End and his father is arriving home. He scolds himself for his stupidity when Mrs Norris wanders into the room, eyeing him warily. He decides that it must be the fever. After all, he’s endured the Cruciatus Curse many times at the hands of the Dark Lord and his minions; he shouldn’t be filled with such terror at the thought of the father figure of his childhood attempting to “beat the illness out of him”.

“Filthy beast,” he mutters, catching Mrs Norris deliberately with his cloak as he passes and smirking at her hiss of anger. His heart isn’t really in it. All he wants is a hot cup of tea and the chance to vent some steam with Minerva.

He heads for the staffroom.

By the time lunch rolls around, Snape has used seven of his most inventive insults to date and Minerva has responded in kind. The rest of the staff has grown used to their constant sniping over the years and Minerva knows not to take him overly seriously. At first, it had been strange to be spouting sarcasm at his former professor without losing house points for his trouble but it had gradually become something of a tradition. Their house rivalry, though rife among their students, was friendlier and, though it pained him to admit it, Snape was beginning to think that some Gryffindors were not entirely intolerable.

Though, if Minerva’s intentions had been to dissuade him of this opinion, she’d been doing remarkably well.

“You never have been very good at lying to me, Severus,” she’d said absently over the rim of her teacup. Snape had raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

And Minerva had turned the page of a book she was clearly paying no attention in a way which Snape found endlessly irritating and said, “Poppy would be most upset if she found you were concealing illness from her.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, of course. My mistake. I’d forgotten about the new dress code stating that red noses were compulsory. I seem to have forgotten my own.”

Had Snape been one to blush, he was quite certain his cheeks would have turned scarlet to match.

Minerva says nothing more as they make their way to the Great Hall. She breaks her silence only to bless him when he sneezes silently into his shoulder. He does not respond.

He takes his seat at the top table with his trademark scowl etched firmly in place. The Slytherin table is unusually quiet and he wonders briefly what elaborate scheme they’re planning before he decides that he doesn’t really want to know. If it involves the majority of his house actually coming together, it’s probably in retaliation to some Gryffindor prank or other and Snape isn’t about to deny them the pleasure of making their enemies squirm with suspense.

His nose has actually taken to throbbing with the pulsing beat of his headache which does nothing for the tickle hovering on the periphery. Not to mention Minerva’s eyes are on him whenever he glances her way. He’s reminded of Mad-Eye and his “constant vigilance” and has to smother a smile.

Dumbledore appears behind him, apparently out of nowhere, and he finds his mood dampening. There’s little point in hiding things from the old man but Snape is too well-practiced in the art of deception to do anything other than try.

“Headmaster,” he greets, resisting the urge to tense when Dumbledore places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes like he’s some angst-riddled teenager.

“Severus, my dear boy,” Dumbledore mutters, eyes twinkling. “Are you quite well?”

“Perfectly so, Headmaster, I assure you,” Snape says with a slight bow of his head but the effect his lost when he has to quickly whip out his handkerchief to wipe at his dribbling nose. The depth on concern in Dumbledore’s eyes forces Snape to look away. “I’ve contracted a mild respiratory infehhction,” he admits by way of compromise.

Before Dumbledore can say another word, Snape turns away and sneezes and discreetly as he can into his handkerchief which is, by this point, well-used and probably in need of a clean. Dumbledore taps it gently with his wand and it’s as good as new. Snape shoots him a rare smile of gratitude, glad he has his back to the students who would no doubt have a field day if they caught their snarky Potions professor engaging in any kind of positive social interaction.

“I’m sorry to hear that, my boy,” Dumbledore says airily. “I’m quite sure Poppy could-“

“I have no interest in pandering to this virus, Headmaster,” Snape replies coolly. “I am quite capable of basic function.”

With that, he turns his back on Dumbledore and stares stonily out at the crowds of students who are beginning to filter in more steadily. He tries not to let the pain show on his face when his chest starts jerking with coughs which are difficult to contain. Still, his expression remains stoic until the fit tapers off at long last, leaving him with a horrid, tight feeling in his lungs.

He eats little.

~

Covering Lupin’s class isn’t nearly as interesting as he’d hoped. True, he took points from Gryffindor and laid the foundations for suspicion of Lupin’s “condition” but he took little enjoyment from the lesson. His head had thumped relentlessly throughout and the prickling in his nose and throat had made lecturing rather difficult and intimidation almost impossible. He’d spent much of the lesson observing from the back of the room where he could frequently retreat into the corridor if need be.

Unsurprisingly, he practically sags with relief when the class is dismissed. Thanking Merlin for such a light day in terms of actual workload, Snap thinks it would be best to miss dinner and sleep the rest of the evening away. Once he’s quite certain he looks acceptably intimidating, he sweeps from the room and strides purposefully down the corridors, internally praying he’ll reach his quarters uninterrupted.

This proves to be a fatal mistake. Though not a believer in fate, Snape considers hoping for such a thing tempting it unnecessarily. And who better to waylay him than the woman he’s been taking great pains to avoid all day.

“Severus,” Poppy Pomfrey greets quietly, coming to a halt directly in front of him so he has no choice but to either stop or physically push past her to continue on his way.

Snape nods his silent greeting.

“How went your Defence lesson?” She asks and Snape is aware of her critical gaze attempting to decipher his true state of health. It’s only now he wishes he’d taken the liberty of maintaining his glamour charm after leaving the classroom but he was just so tired…

“It was tolerable,” he retorts dryly, deliberately keeping his responses as short as possible so she’ll have less chance to note his audible congestion. In all honesty, his sinuses feel like they’ve been packed with cement and he’s almost tempted to ask her for something to help him sleep it off.

Poppy squeezes his upper arm gently before her hand slides down to hold his wrist and she’s taken his pulse before his sluggish mind even notices. Defiantly, and perhaps childishly, he takes hold of his cloak and folds his arms across his chest, assuming what has become widely known as his Dungeon Bat Pose. If only Poppy were put off so easily. Poppy is particularly difficult to dissuade, especially, Snape suspects, because she remembers him as a student.

“I know you’re not exactly fond of them, Severus,” Poppy smiles, pulling out her wand and flicking it lazily towards his chest. She examines it closely, a slight frown creasing between her eyebrows. “But you should at least attempt to be understanding of their struggles with the subject.”

Snape sneers. “Perhaps they would not be quite so helpless had their instruction in the subject not been a shambles from the outset.”

“Perhaps.”

Snape can feel the irritation making his fingertips twitch. He’s so tired. If she would just leave him alone, he’d be able to get some much-needed rest. But she will insist upon fussing and flitting around him like a restless kitten.

When Poppy finally places a hand across his forehead, he decides that enough is enough.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, woman!” He snaps, swatting her hands away. “Will you cease your infernahh…”

His breath catches and he falls forward in a silent stifle. To his dismay, Poppy is not put off by his tone. If anything, the distinct lack of strength behind it seems to only double her instinctual urge to fuss and she places the tip of her wand gently on his temple.

“Oh, dear,” she tuts, beginning to usher him along the corridor. Now, Snape is not an easy man to usher anywhere but he knows where she’s taking him and firmly stands his ground.

He clears his throat. “Well, if that’s all, Poppy, I have students to tolerate.”

Poppy shakes her head. “You’re not timetabled for classes at the moment, Severus,” she says mildly.

Snape growls. Minerva McGonagall won’t know what’s hit her when he gets his hands on her. There is absolutely no doubt in his mind that this is her doing. Meddlesome witch. She should know by now to leave well enough alone.

(Despite his irritation, he finds himself admiring her cunning. Why, it’s positively Slytherin, a fact he will delight in flaunting before her if Poppy ever lets him escape.)

“All the same,” he says, scowling at the hoarse edge to his voice. “I shan’t allow you to fuss over me like some petulant invalid.”

“Severus…” she begins quietly and, though his voice softens, he doesn’t let up when he tells her in no uncertain terms that he has absolutely no intention of going to the hospital wing. She smiles. “Regardless, I will insist upon bed rest.”

He frowns. There’s no reasoning with her once she has a potential patient in her sights. At this point, he’ll be lucky to escape without a notice for two weeks in bed. The boredom might just drive him mad.

“Very well,” he concedes and she smiles. He glares in response, intending to leave her with no illusions that she might have won him over. He was going to bed anyway. “But only for this evening.”

She’ll have to staple him to the bed before he misses class.

This seems to satisfy Poppy for the time being. No doubt she’d confident in her abilities to persuade him otherwise. He doesn’t contradict her; allow her to believe whatever she needs in order to get this entire ordeal over with as quickly as possible.

Snape tries to be indignant when she spells him straight into his pyjamas with neither warning nor consent but he finds the soft, loose fabric to be mollifying. He spends so much of his time in tight shirts and buttoned robes that the pyjamas are a welcome change. Perhaps it’s his imagination, but he thinks he can breathe easier and the tight feeling is loosening with every breath. He slips between the sheets and almost melts into the pillows. This is exactly what he needs.

“If you truly intend to be fit for work in the morning, Severus, you might consider drinking your potion before you fall asleep,” Poppy says amusedly as she presses a vial of Pepper-Up into his hand.

Snape eyes the potion sceptically. “Poppy-“ he begins but she cuts him off.

“Don’t give me that nonsense about reaction time,” she snaps. “Even if that were true, I doubt you’ll be duelling anyone in the next 48 hours.”

“Perhaps not,” he says smoothly. “But someone must prevent the Gryffindor cauldrons from exploding in their unsuspecting faces.”

Poppy smiles. “Why, Severus, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you had something against that house.”

“Nothing but their propensity to engage in acts of outright stupidity under the guise of being courageous,” he replies pleasantly but he knows Poppy won’t miss the bite in his words nor the congestion in his voice.

He swallows the potion anyway. But only to appease her.

“Good lad,” Poppy murmurs and he really does feel like a teenager again.

He’s just about to relax when he pitches forward to stifle a rather violent sneeze into a fresh handkerchief. Poppy tisks.

“There’s nobody here to hear you but me,” she tells him and he wonders briefly if she knows that the fear of being heard and smacked for his trouble is ingrained so deeply in his psyche that he can’t quite bring himself to stop stifling, no matter how much it hurts.

(But she can’t know that.)

So, Snape merely scowls as he often does when a biting remark doesn’t immediately spring to the tip of his tongue. He wants to blame the potion but he knows it would be a lie.

He wants to blame the potion too when he doesn’t object to her gentle stroking of his hair as he falls asleep but that would also be a lie.

---

I tried. Snape is very difficult to write. I have a whole new appreciation for people who manage to even vaguely capture his character because I've been writing this thing for weeks and it's exhausting and I'm not convinced this is even slightly accurate. Too complex for my skills. Oh dear. I hope you like it anyway.

[SneezyHolmes]

Loved this! You wrote Snape perfectly!

[AngelEyes]

I saw Snape in the topic and you as the author and Squeed out loud! And you did not disappoint! It's especially awesome because I'm currently introducing my niece to Harry Potter and we just finished book 3! You do a wonderful Snape!

As Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he spends most of his day swamped by the smell of inadequate brews concocted by incompetent students.

I love this line. It perfectly characterizes his point of view.

His marking had become much more aggressive and his comments in the margins snarkier as the night wore on and he'd eventually decided that sleep was what he needed most by the time the clock struck 11pm.

This is totally part of my head canon that when he doesn't feel good he gets snarkier!

(Also, he thinks wryly to himself, he’s taking Potter’s class for Defence Against the Dark Arts after lunch since Lupin is…incapacitated. No doubt they’re used to Lupin’s gentle ways by now. Oh, this will be fun.)

Indeed! He's so vindictive!

By the time lunch rolls around, Snape has used seven of his most inventive insults to date and Minerva has responded in kind. The rest of the staff has grown used to their constant sniping over the years and Minerva knows not to take him overly seriously. At first, it had been strange to be spouting sarcasm at his former professor without losing house points for his trouble but it had gradually become something of a tradition.

I love this idea/point of view. They very much seem this way.

She’ll have to staple him to the bed before he misses class.

Ha!

I love how overbearing Poppy is and how resistant Snape is and then finally sort of gives in even if he won't really admit it even to himself.

I love this so much!!!! You totally made my night!

[PetalsAndThorns]

Oh man! This is so funny. I just hit a huge Snape streak and had searched through the history on this forum and was disappointed when there was hardly any fic of him. And then this happened!

I want to say this: Dumbledore worrying over Snape makes my heart melt. He's the only one who can do it who has a chance of not being snarled at by Snape. I just- so many yes.

You hit my headcanon on the... head ( ^^; ). I've had a fic floating in my head with the same headcanon that Snape has a sever fear of sneezing where people can hear him. Reading this goodness is incentive to poke more at the idea. Thank you for sharing this!

[SterlingSilver]

AdrianMarx, this is AMAZING. Like, AMAZING. You write Snape's voice incredibly well. Like, this felt like I was reading Harry Potter from Snape's point of view-- it has that same whimsical, light-hearted, humorous language but with a touch of darkness. You used Snape's past to your advantage in very subtle ways, and even nailed his personality spot on. His internal monologue was incredibly believable and made me fall in love with him all over again. I adore Snape, so seeing him played here so perfectly just made my night. Thank you so much for sharing, and you did such a wonderful job <3

Some of my favorite parts!

Weasley opens his mouth as though to object but thinks better of it, much to Snape's dismay. A good excuse to deduct house points from Gryffindor is just the pick-me-up he needs.

He’s been holding back some particularly nasty comments from the students today and Minerva is about the only teacher in the whole school able to match him in a verbal war. Dumbledore just doesn’t engage and Flitwick, though surprisingly resilient, tends to lose track of his argument quite quickly. The others are simply useless.

Dumbledore appears behind him, apparently out of nowhere, and he finds his mood dampening. There’s little point in hiding things from the old man but Snape is too well-practiced in the art of deception to do anything other than try.

“Headmaster,” he greets, resisting the urge to tense when Dumbledore places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes like he’s some angst-riddled teenager.

“Severus, my dear boy,” Dumbledore mutters, eyes twinkling. “Are you quite well?”

This proves to be a fatal mistake. Though not a believer in fate, Snape considers hoping for such a thing tempting it unnecessarily. And who better to waylay him than the woman he’s been taking great pains to avoid all day.

(Despite his irritation, he finds himself admiring her cunning. Why, it’s positively Slytherin, a fact he will delight in flaunting before her if Poppy ever lets him escape.)

IT'S ALL SO VERY SNAPE AND I LOVE IT

[KickingUpTheDust]

More snape is always good, so in-character! Love it!

[Arty]

Hon!!!! HON THIS IS PERFECT!!!!!!!

Like this is Snape down to the T. You got his persona right on, he's fears from his horrible lack of a childhood with an abusive father. Hell the quips with minerva were awesome!! Seriously dont sell yourself short. When dumbledore came in i thought he was going to give snape a lemon drop...i would lmao if he did. That man has a stash of freaking lemon drops. XD

Edited February 11, 2015 by Artygirl22

[Sitruuna]

x_x

You've written him so well.

This is very nice.

Great.

Awesome.

[cally]

OMG this is perfect and spot on. You have Snape down perfectly. I really liked the backstory into his past, as well.

[snuffle-bunny]

I love this. You write everyone so very well.

[shingetsu]

This is wonderful and so very very Snape. I felt very nostalgic reading this~ It's been such a long time since I've read any Harry Potter fanfic. You write so very well and your characterizations are PERFECT~!!! I'll be waiting for this to continue with excitement...

[AdrianMarx]

Loved this! You wrote Snape perfectly!

Awh, thank you!

I saw Snape in the topic and you as the author and Squeed out loud! And you did not disappoint! It's especially awesome because I'm currently introducing my niece to Harry Potter and we just finished book 3! You do a wonderful Snape!

Wow, flattery indeed! Oh my goodness. PoA is my favourite book!

Oh man! This is so funny. I just hit a huge Snape streak and had searched through the history on this forum and was disappointed when there was hardly any fic of him. And then this happened!

I want to say this: Dumbledore worrying over Snape makes my heart melt. He's the only one who can do it who has a chance of not being snarled at by Snape. I just- so many yes.

You hit my headcanon on the... head ( ^^; ). I've had a fic floating in my head with the same headcanon that Snape has a sever fear of sneezing where people can hear him. Reading this goodness is incentive to poke more at the idea. Thank you for sharing this!

I did the same. Ah, the struggles. I do enjoy Snape and Dumbledore's relationship.

Please do let me know if/when you write it. I need more Snape fic in my life.

AdrianMarx, this is AMAZING. Like, AMAZING. You write Snape's voice incredibly well. Like, this felt like I was reading Harry Potter from Snape's point of view-- it has that same whimsical, light-hearted, humorous language but with a touch of darkness. You used Snape's past to your advantage in very subtle ways, and even nailed his personality spot on. His internal monologue was incredibly believable and made me fall in love with him all over again. I adore Snape, so seeing him played here so perfectly just made my night. Thank you so much for sharing, and you did such a wonderful job <3

I love him too. I mean, I want to slap him. Several times. But I feel a lot of things for him.

No, thank you. Your lovely comments have made me all mushy <3

More snape is always good, so in-character! Love it!

Thank you!!

Hon!!!! HON THIS IS PERFECT!!!!!!!

Like this is Snape down to the T. You got his persona right on, he's fears from his horrible lack of a childhood with an abusive father. Hell the quips with minerva were awesome!! Seriously dont sell yourself short. When dumbledore came in i thought he was going to give snape a lemon drop...i would lmao if he did. That man has a stash of freaking lemon drops. XD

I am yet to see Lemon Drops in any shop ever and I am greatly disappointed. Thank you. I'm really glad you liked it!

x_x

You've written him so well.

This is very nice.

Great.

Awesome.

Wow thank you zxcjkdfh c:

OMG this is perfect and spot on. You have Snape down perfectly. I really liked the backstory into his past, as well.

Snape makes me emotional, gosh. Thank you!

I love this. You write everyone so very well.

Ahhhh thank you!!

This is wonderful and so very very Snape. I felt very nostalgic reading this~ It's been such a long time since I've read any Harry Potter fanfic. You write so very well and your characterizations are PERFECT~!!!

I'd never delved into the Harry Potter fanfiction world until I started re-reading the books last month. Thank you!

[SpookyScarySkeleton]

I havnt read all of the books but quite a few of them. This is marvelous ! Ive always loved your writting

[WishUponAUnicorn]

This was great, snape is my favourite charector