Chapter Text
It was the most obnoxious thing he’d ever heard, and Merlin knows that’s a high bar, considering his profession as a potions teacher to 11 year olds. Looking outside the narrow window of his chamber, he concluded that whatever reason Dumbledore had to wake him up at 6 in the morning on a Monday in October,- with his frankly, motive-for-murder-worthy alarm-clock spell,- better be a good one.
And, what’s even worse, the bloody spell of course doesn’t actually say what this thrice-cursed problem is, just that he’s been summoned to Dumbledore’s office.
Casting a Finite Incantatem and throwing a dark look at the protection runes on his door that have, in his opinion, failed him greatly this so-called morning, he cast a Featherlight charm on himself and started climbing the stairs to Dumbledore’s office.
The statue in front of the stairs opened up without a password (though everybody in the faculty but Lockheart and that oaf, Hagrid, knows it’s Sugar Snap), no doubt alerting Dumbledore that he has arrived.
Severus knocked on the door and entered without waiting. The first thing he noticed is that Dumbledore was not alone. Sitting across from the headmaster was a woman with long black hair, who was, from the looks of it, wearing some kind of tight muggle clothing he would find unbecoming of anyone their age, especially to a meeting with the headmaster of Hogwarts. They looked as if they’d been talking to each-other for at least a couple of hours, and Severus already felt left out of whatever conversation was held here.
But the annoyance got quickly washed away when she turned to look at him. She had brown eyes and a slightly crooked nose, nothing extraordinary or particularly mention-worthy, but yet, her appearance gnawed at the back of his mind like an old memory. Does he know her?
He would surely remember somebody who dressed in that fashion, but no name came to his mind. He searched her face, on the off chance that they’d actually met and he had simply forgotten her, but he spotted the same amount of recognition in her eyes, so to say, none at all.
”Good morning Severus, and thank you for coming on such short notice!”
The Headmaster's words snapped him out of his thoughts.
”And might I ask what prompted this… early request? I’m waging the thought it has something to do with your… visitor here.”
Dumbledore crinkled his eyes as if he was privy to a joke no one else in the room was.
“Oh, you must forgive me, miss Lala, these things do come with old age. So, first, introductions. Miss Lala, this is Severus Snape, the current Potions Master in Hogwarts, School of Witches and Wizardry.”
Current?
“And Severus, this is Miss Anila Lala, the new Potions teacher of Hogwarts.”
The new what? Had the old man finally lost his marbles or is he finally getting the role of Defense Against The Dark Arts Teacher he’d been asking the Headmaster for more than eight bloody years? But didn’t he just hire that charlatan, Lockhart, for that? What in Merlin's balls was going on here?
Thankfully, instead of spewing his whole inner monologue like a Gryffindor heathen, he managed to control his inner thoughts to form a cohesive sentence.
”I’m sorry, but I don’t seem to quite follow.”
Apparently the unknown woman, no, miss Lala took that as her cue to explain, because she stood up and faced him.
”I’ve just published a dissertation on the application of Muggle medicine to Wizard Potioneering. It was even published by the Prophet, maybe you’ve heard of it.”
Of course he’d heard of it. Everyone and their owl who had even the slightest interest in Potions had read or at least heard of the paper, which in general described several Muggle techniques that, hypothetically, could be used to enhance the potency of potions.
It had, as one might expect, been already denounced and ridiculed by numerous Pureblood families, and Dumbledore listing it as a class, especially in turbulent times such as these, would send a particularly strong message. However these were questions he would address to the headmaster at a later date and more …. privately.
“I’m familiar with it.”
The woman pursed her lips, as if she was trying to decode his words.
“And will this…class be added to the schedule or substituted from one of my classes?” - he asked, trying to appear collected and gain some footing in the conversation.
Do I need to rewrite my entire bloody program and syllabus to accommodate the whims of this geriatric madman, or can I simply pretend this situation doesn’t exist?
“Do not fret, there will be no need to change your lesson plans. An extra 2 hours a week will be added on Tuesdays and Fridays. However, since Miss Lala is joining so late into the school year and we are quite ill prepared, I was hoping you could share your office and pharmacy for the time being.”
So, that was the catch. Now he also would have to handle somebody else, not only teaching students information which is surely going to be unconventional, if not outright false on his subject, he was also going to have to allow her to use his documents and ingredients.
“I’ll try not to be too inconvenient…”- she interjected, with some kind of humorous undertone.
Well, how reassuring.
Feeling thus that this morning was quite unsalvageable, Severus turned to Dumbledore.
“Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave and prepare my class for the first period. Miss Lala, it’s been a pleasure.”
“Likewise, Professor Snape.”
“Very well then, I shall call on you if there’s another development you need to be informed on.”
Finally hearing the dismissal he’d been hoping for ever since he stepped into this office, Severus turned and left Dumbledore to continue his conversation with the woman.
It was only at the door of his own office that he realized that this conversation could very well have been done way later in the day. And that woman looked like she’d been there for hours. Just what in Merlin's beard was Dumbledore doing with a young woman before the crack of dawn?