Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Forty Days of Snape ❯ A Determined Man ( Chapter 3 )

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Forty Days of Snape

Chapter 3: A Determined Man

Telling Snape not to panic was quite possibly the equivalent of saying “pigs don't fly” to a Russian Swine Aerodynamicist. Each would have warranted a death glare and several hexes strong enough to maim you permanently. It is a well known fact that Swine Aerodynamicists take their jobs very seriously. After all, without them there would be no Pigports or Pigplanes for Wizards to laugh at. Russian Swine Aerodynamicists, especially, would no doubt defend against the giggles.

Snape, on the other hand, was at the moment seriously contemplating his resignation.

For an hour now, Dumbledore's office had proved more uncomfortable than enduring Slughorn's drip about those deplorable pineapple things.

Snape had spent the first ten minutes bathed in a thoroughly uninviting silence, arms folded and grim faced, looking blacker than usual. This was to prove he could beat the blue. Snape thought himself very clever indeed for not even bothering to shave, leaving black stubble in odd mismatched patches about his chin. The more black he wore, the better - reasoned that of a madman.

The last fifty minutes, however, were spent in silent terror, avoiding the very blue eyes of their newest hire-in who also happened to favor the dark color for her wardrobe. Admittedly she ignored him altogether, for at the moment he looked like a half-crazed unshaven Death Eater. But her eyes irritated him nonetheless. They were just so damn...blue. The SII crept back up and Snape suspected it had to do with her. But that actually worked to his benefit. In fact, had he the facial muscles to support such a strenuous endeavor, he would certainly have smiled at the thought. If she was behind his SII, the solution would be simple.

He'd just have to kill her.

Even after their meeting was over, and What's-her-name ventured off into the winding world of Hogwarts staircases, Snape inwardly grinned.

Business was settled; the matter had become a bizarrely laid-back thing. Incidentally, his inner struggle not to cackle scared a few first years in the hall. It made him tingle. Perhaps he'd stop shaving before class from now on.

In the several days thereafter, Snape took to stalking that woman and getting to know her daily routine.

It wasn't even that complex, really. She had taken over History of Magic for Professor Binns - a much needed change Snape had to admit - and shared a similar schedule to himself: One class in the morning, two in the afternoon, before and after lunch respectively, and three before dinner. Curiously though, the woman never attended meals. She preferred to eat alone, grading papers or reading in her study. Snape furtively noted this for later plotting.

It went without saying the woman had family somewhere, friends even...if she was peppy enough to make Severus sick, she was peppy enough to have at least one. What's-her-name might even have a pet that'd starve upon her `dismissal'. Frankly though, the man didn't care.

Oh, Snape was fully aware this would cripple his moral compass - not that it ever pointed due north anyway. But surely his soul was black enough to let one stab of mischief slip on by. It had been forever since he indulged his own desires, did something nice for himself. A harmless little murder - certainly that should be allowed.

After the third week, Snape was happy to note What's-her-face wasn't even a blip on the radar.

In fact she remained so unimportant, the Golden Trio hadn't even heard of her, which spoke volumes considering both Potter and that Weasley boy were in her class Tuesdays and Fridays. Most of the staff still didn't know her first name, or more correctly, didn't care enough to remember. It was only by mere coincidence Snape overheard Dumbledore addressing her by `Sally'. Sally...something-or-other. Oh, he wouldn't be bothered with knowing her last name. You don't need to know a person's last name if you're only going to kill them.

That tiresome Flitwick even called her `Diane' during a staff meeting, which if you think about it, is quite possibly the furthest distance from `Sally' one can get. So it was safe to assume no one would really miss the girl if she, say for example, fell from her seventh floor study during dinner next week, which also happened to coincide with Halloween and all the fun little disgusting activities children liked to do, guaranteeing no one would be around to save her.

Snape had hardly thought about this at all, really.