![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
To Touch Pitch
If I ever get stuck and convinced everything I'm writing is utter crap? Remind me to go ding for a while. Yeah.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
acadine has declared a Mary Sue goodfic challenge. Hence, an excuse for an attempt at my American DaDA teacher who saves Hogwarts and boffs an OoC Professor Snape . .
June, 1994
Severus stopped short in the doorway to the laboratory. Among the familiar glass and black tables and bluebottle flames, a woman was working; in her rough skirt and tunic she looked as out of place as a Mudblood among Malfoys. Then she turned to hold a flack of muddy brown liquid to the sunlight, and with a surreal shock he recognized her. "Peggy?"
She gasped and dropped the flask, glancing up at him for a second before she stooped to retrieve it. She set it carefully on the table and turned back against it. "Severus? My word, what are you doing here? Fou're the last person I'd have expected to see here, of all places." She had kept her hair short; it didn't suit her at all..
He raised an eyebrow. "The potions laboratory in the Avery building is the last place you expected to find me?"
"Well, yes," she said. "You're still working at Hogwarts, aren't you? And I've sort of gotten the impression these people don't like Headmaster Dumbledore much, so I wouldn't think--"
"Don't like him much is something of an understatement," he replied. "They're open allies of the resurrected Dark Lord who is trying to kill him and violently overthrow everything he's been working for."
"Exactly. So I wouldn't think one of his most trusted allies would be welcome here." She paused, interrogative eyebrows raised.
"I work here part-time when I'm not at the school," he said shortly.
When he didn't elaborate she threw her hands in the air. "Fine then, don't tell me anything. I am never going to understand British wizarding politics. And I thought the American sort was complicated. At least we only obsess about our leaders' sex lives."
Severus winced. "Thank you, I needed that image."
She smothered a grin, and he turned away. "The important question," he said, "Is why you are here. I thought you were in America, doing research."
She shrugged. "I've been working as a freelance consultant. Don't usually leave the country, but they offered to pay me a great deal of money and I thought it might be fun to see England again. Catch up with old friends. And look," she added, "It worked! Here you are!"
He moved further into the room rather than answer that, and looked over her setup. "What did they hire you to do?"
"Building on what we found out last time I was in England, actually," she said, biting at her lip. "I'm trying to work out the way the protective spells on Hogwarts have interacted with the land over time; with my experience with the castle's magic during the storm, they thought I was best qualified for the job."
He froze, several pieces of information suddenly clicking together in his mind with the layout of her lab table. "It looks rather more to me as if you're trying to learn how to dismantle them."
"Yeah, well, that's the simplest way to do it, isn't? Figure out the steps to take something apart, and you learn how to rebuild it. I understand Mr. Avery is hoping to adapt some of the protections for his own land."
"I see," he said. "And you trust that's what it is for."
"It's what he told me," she said, turning away to stir a cauldron. "Mr. Avery's been very welcoming. He's putting real resources into this; I've only been here a week and I'm making real progress, I think. Of course, it would be a lot easier if I could actually walk the grounds like I did last time, but I don't see any way of getting permission, given all this silly political stuff." She paused suddenly. "Wait a minute. You still work there-- You could take me, couldn't you? Give me a tour for old times' sake? I wouldn't mind a chance to catch up with Sybill and Hagrid and all the rest of them, anyway."
"I do not think that would be wise."
"Nonsense!" drawled a voice from the doorway. Severus spun around. Avery was lounging in the doorway, a sardonic expression on his face. "I hadn't realized the two of you were such dear friends. That will do perfectly, Severus; surely you can arrange a visit next week?"
"I--" he said, then drew himself up. "Very well," he replied, and stalked off in a cloud of black robes.
Peggy watched him go. "What's up with him?" she asked.
"He's been under quite a bit of stress lately," Avery replied with a smirk.
***
And that, Severus thought over his evening tea, was the real problem.
`I hadn't realized the two of you were such dear friends--' Ten years it had been, with no more contact than seeing her name, every few years, on a research paper; ten years, and yet they'd been talking as if none of that time was passed. He'd felt like the young man starting his teaching career that she'd treated him as. She had always been perfectly willing to believe only good about him; ten years ago, he'd been able to justify letting her, but now?
And she had been shocked to see him working for Death Eaters-- shocked, but not disappointed. She was working for them herself, though she didn't seem to realize what that meant, still remaining blissfully ignorant of anything unpleasant unless she was forced to face up to it. And they had her working on dismantling the magical protections at Hogwarts.
He should have expected it; she was the logical choice, one of maybe a dozen geomancers in the world doing real research; and with her direct experience experience of the castle's magic, there was a real chance she could do it. And wouldn't that be a lovely thing to explain to Albus.
And speaking of Albus, he had to talk him into allowing her to tour the place, with her knowing only bits and pieces of the situation, and if she was anything like she had been before, no understanding of the concept of discretion.
He was not looking forward to this.
August, 1984
Severus Snape met Margaret Kapeller for the first time on one of those still, bright days that hit Scotland sometimes at the very end of summer, the kind of beautiful day that he had always found it necessary to be annoyed at. The dog days, his subconscious supplied automatically and derisively, when Sirius was high in the sky.
Except, of course, he wasn't. Sirius was rotting in Azkaban, with almost two years so far to try to charm the Dementors; Potter and Pettigrew and the Dark Lord were dead, and Snivellus had suddenly found himself free.
Well, as free as one could be when forced to spend three-quarters of every year locked in a castle attempting to control three hundred adolescent wizards. An errand to Hogsmeade to restock the student cupboard with more valuable ingredients he'd have to watch being destroyed was what had drawn him out of his nice safe dungeon into this horrible weather; but even so, with thought of Sirius in Azkaban to comfort him, he could almost find it in himself to forget to be angry.
That's why he didn't immediately snap off a cutting remark when he found the path in front of him blocked by a young woman and a bizarre mechanical contraption. The machine was all shiny metal and spindly wires, like an expanded version of one of the Headmaster's toy trinkets; the woman, crouched over it, wore muggle-style trousers that strapped up over her shoulders, her brown hair in a messy twist behind her head as she got her hand caught in something and shouted "Ow! That hurt! There's no need to be *mean* about it."
Severus cleared his throat. She jerked up, catching her head under one of the protuding bits of metal; rubbing it absently, she said, "Oh, gosh, I'm blocking the road, aren't I? I'm sorry-- I was afraid I'd lose pieces if I left it in the lawn-- I didn't think, I'll move--" she started gathering up the tools scattered around.
"I'm perfectly capable of walking around you," he said.
"Oh, yes, I guess you would be," she said. She had an accent Severus couldn't place right away, rounding her long vowels in a manner that reminded him vaguely of the way certian very old portraits spoke. "Sorry," she continued, "I'm nervous, first week in a new country." She held her hand out for him to shake. "Margaret Kapeller," she said, "Everyone calls me Peggy."
He looked down at her hand, and she followed his gaze. Her fingers were thickly smeared with some gummy black substance, and her eyes widened. "Oops, I forgot," she said. "Sorry, again." She wiped her hand off on the leg of her trousers, leaving a wide black smudge, then nervously put it in her pocket. She leaned back against the metal device, only to straighten up suddenly when it started to topple under her weight. "Bicycle grease," she said, and at his continuing unenlightenment, added "Sort of-- Muggle equivalent of dragon's blood? I'd thought I'd got the bike flying, but it gave out right under me, so I was trying to tinker with it here instead of pedalling all the way back up to the castle."
The thing was a flying bike? Well, now that he knew what it was, he could pick out two wheels and a set of steering handles, but some other parts seemed to be missing. "I knew someone once who had a flying bike," he said.
"Really? I don't suppose he could tell me how to get it working? Dad made me my old one last year after we saw ET, but the WPC people told me to limit how much I brought over, so I figured I'd just pick one up cheap at a thrift store once I got here and enchant it myself, only it's a little harder than I thought it would be, the aerodynamics are really odd."
She seemed to have a habit of babblingtalking nervously, and Severus didn't think he'd understood more than half of that, so he answered the part that he had. "I don't think he could be of much help, as he's currently in prison."
"Oh!" she said. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not," he replied, smiling just a little. "He wasn't exactly a friend."
"Oh," she said again. "Well. I hope you won't hold that against me? You must be one of my new coworkers."
"Coworker," he said blankly.
"Yeah, I'm going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts down at the school this year," she said. "You work there, don't yoo? This path only leads up to the school, and there's hardly anyone there now. Wait, let me guess," she said, holding a hand up. "McGonagall, Sprout, Trelawney, Sinistra, Vector, Hooch and Pomfrey are presumably females, I've already met Kettleburn and Dumbledore and Hagrid, Binns is supposedly a ghost, and you somehow don't look like a Flitwick. That leaves Filch or--"
"Severus Snape," he supplied, inclining his head. "May I inquire as to how gained your position?"
"Actually?" she said. "I'm not all that sure myself. I was assigned here as a volunteer for the WPC. Wizarding Peace Corps?" She clarified, "United States government organization that sends bright and enthusiastic young people out into the world to spread truth, justice, and the American way?" She shrugged. "My degree is in Geomancy, and the WPC usually goes to third world countries to aid in development. I have to admit I was rather expecting to spend my enlistment teaching some tribal shaman in Ethiopia the proper village configuration to protect against famine, not teaching Dark Arts in the most preten-- pre-eminent," she amended, "wizarding boarding school in Europe. The Headmaster must have sent them a request for a volunteer; the director is apparently an old friend of his; but I don't know why he'd have to. Professor Kettleburn said something about how the position's cursed and nobody lasts for more than a year in it, but as he's down to seven fingers and one foot, I don't know how he has any room to talk. Anyway, it's hard to believe there weren't any more qualified applicants."
She squatted back down and started tucking her tools away in her pockets. Severus could see from this angle that her hair was held in its twist by a polished wooden stick that he realized suddenly must be her wand. She looked up at him. "Maybe he wanted to work on the cross-cultural understanding? Give the students a view of the American outlook on magic? That is supposed to be one of the main purpose of the WPC." She stood up, and wiped her hands on her trousers again. "Severus Snape," she said. "You teach potions, right?"
"In fact," he said, with a hint of menace, "I applied for the Defense position. Professor Dumbledore put me in Potions instead."
"Great!" she said, her face lighting up. "Maybe you can help me out when I get totally lost this year. If you want to, that is," she added.
acadine has declared a Mary Sue goodfic challenge. Hence, an excuse for an attempt at my American DaDA teacher who saves Hogwarts and boffs an OoC Professor Snape . . June, 1994
Severus stopped short in the doorway to the laboratory. Among the familiar glass and black tables and bluebottle flames, a woman was working; in her rough skirt and tunic she looked as out of place as a Mudblood among Malfoys. Then she turned to hold a flack of muddy brown liquid to the sunlight, and with a surreal shock he recognized her. "Peggy?"
She gasped and dropped the flask, glancing up at him for a second before she stooped to retrieve it. She set it carefully on the table and turned back against it. "Severus? My word, what are you doing here? Fou're the last person I'd have expected to see here, of all places." She had kept her hair short; it didn't suit her at all..
He raised an eyebrow. "The potions laboratory in the Avery building is the last place you expected to find me?"
"Well, yes," she said. "You're still working at Hogwarts, aren't you? And I've sort of gotten the impression these people don't like Headmaster Dumbledore much, so I wouldn't think--"
"Don't like him much is something of an understatement," he replied. "They're open allies of the resurrected Dark Lord who is trying to kill him and violently overthrow everything he's been working for."
"Exactly. So I wouldn't think one of his most trusted allies would be welcome here." She paused, interrogative eyebrows raised.
"I work here part-time when I'm not at the school," he said shortly.
When he didn't elaborate she threw her hands in the air. "Fine then, don't tell me anything. I am never going to understand British wizarding politics. And I thought the American sort was complicated. At least we only obsess about our leaders' sex lives."
Severus winced. "Thank you, I needed that image."
She smothered a grin, and he turned away. "The important question," he said, "Is why you are here. I thought you were in America, doing research."
She shrugged. "I've been working as a freelance consultant. Don't usually leave the country, but they offered to pay me a great deal of money and I thought it might be fun to see England again. Catch up with old friends. And look," she added, "It worked! Here you are!"
He moved further into the room rather than answer that, and looked over her setup. "What did they hire you to do?"
"Building on what we found out last time I was in England, actually," she said, biting at her lip. "I'm trying to work out the way the protective spells on Hogwarts have interacted with the land over time; with my experience with the castle's magic during the storm, they thought I was best qualified for the job."
He froze, several pieces of information suddenly clicking together in his mind with the layout of her lab table. "It looks rather more to me as if you're trying to learn how to dismantle them."
"Yeah, well, that's the simplest way to do it, isn't? Figure out the steps to take something apart, and you learn how to rebuild it. I understand Mr. Avery is hoping to adapt some of the protections for his own land."
"I see," he said. "And you trust that's what it is for."
"It's what he told me," she said, turning away to stir a cauldron. "Mr. Avery's been very welcoming. He's putting real resources into this; I've only been here a week and I'm making real progress, I think. Of course, it would be a lot easier if I could actually walk the grounds like I did last time, but I don't see any way of getting permission, given all this silly political stuff." She paused suddenly. "Wait a minute. You still work there-- You could take me, couldn't you? Give me a tour for old times' sake? I wouldn't mind a chance to catch up with Sybill and Hagrid and all the rest of them, anyway."
"I do not think that would be wise."
"Nonsense!" drawled a voice from the doorway. Severus spun around. Avery was lounging in the doorway, a sardonic expression on his face. "I hadn't realized the two of you were such dear friends. That will do perfectly, Severus; surely you can arrange a visit next week?"
"I--" he said, then drew himself up. "Very well," he replied, and stalked off in a cloud of black robes.
Peggy watched him go. "What's up with him?" she asked.
"He's been under quite a bit of stress lately," Avery replied with a smirk.
***
And that, Severus thought over his evening tea, was the real problem.
`I hadn't realized the two of you were such dear friends--' Ten years it had been, with no more contact than seeing her name, every few years, on a research paper; ten years, and yet they'd been talking as if none of that time was passed. He'd felt like the young man starting his teaching career that she'd treated him as. She had always been perfectly willing to believe only good about him; ten years ago, he'd been able to justify letting her, but now?
And she had been shocked to see him working for Death Eaters-- shocked, but not disappointed. She was working for them herself, though she didn't seem to realize what that meant, still remaining blissfully ignorant of anything unpleasant unless she was forced to face up to it. And they had her working on dismantling the magical protections at Hogwarts.
He should have expected it; she was the logical choice, one of maybe a dozen geomancers in the world doing real research; and with her direct experience experience of the castle's magic, there was a real chance she could do it. And wouldn't that be a lovely thing to explain to Albus.
And speaking of Albus, he had to talk him into allowing her to tour the place, with her knowing only bits and pieces of the situation, and if she was anything like she had been before, no understanding of the concept of discretion.
He was not looking forward to this.
August, 1984
Severus Snape met Margaret Kapeller for the first time on one of those still, bright days that hit Scotland sometimes at the very end of summer, the kind of beautiful day that he had always found it necessary to be annoyed at. The dog days, his subconscious supplied automatically and derisively, when Sirius was high in the sky.
Except, of course, he wasn't. Sirius was rotting in Azkaban, with almost two years so far to try to charm the Dementors; Potter and Pettigrew and the Dark Lord were dead, and Snivellus had suddenly found himself free.
Well, as free as one could be when forced to spend three-quarters of every year locked in a castle attempting to control three hundred adolescent wizards. An errand to Hogsmeade to restock the student cupboard with more valuable ingredients he'd have to watch being destroyed was what had drawn him out of his nice safe dungeon into this horrible weather; but even so, with thought of Sirius in Azkaban to comfort him, he could almost find it in himself to forget to be angry.
That's why he didn't immediately snap off a cutting remark when he found the path in front of him blocked by a young woman and a bizarre mechanical contraption. The machine was all shiny metal and spindly wires, like an expanded version of one of the Headmaster's toy trinkets; the woman, crouched over it, wore muggle-style trousers that strapped up over her shoulders, her brown hair in a messy twist behind her head as she got her hand caught in something and shouted "Ow! That hurt! There's no need to be *mean* about it."
Severus cleared his throat. She jerked up, catching her head under one of the protuding bits of metal; rubbing it absently, she said, "Oh, gosh, I'm blocking the road, aren't I? I'm sorry-- I was afraid I'd lose pieces if I left it in the lawn-- I didn't think, I'll move--" she started gathering up the tools scattered around.
"I'm perfectly capable of walking around you," he said.
"Oh, yes, I guess you would be," she said. She had an accent Severus couldn't place right away, rounding her long vowels in a manner that reminded him vaguely of the way certian very old portraits spoke. "Sorry," she continued, "I'm nervous, first week in a new country." She held her hand out for him to shake. "Margaret Kapeller," she said, "Everyone calls me Peggy."
He looked down at her hand, and she followed his gaze. Her fingers were thickly smeared with some gummy black substance, and her eyes widened. "Oops, I forgot," she said. "Sorry, again." She wiped her hand off on the leg of her trousers, leaving a wide black smudge, then nervously put it in her pocket. She leaned back against the metal device, only to straighten up suddenly when it started to topple under her weight. "Bicycle grease," she said, and at his continuing unenlightenment, added "Sort of-- Muggle equivalent of dragon's blood? I'd thought I'd got the bike flying, but it gave out right under me, so I was trying to tinker with it here instead of pedalling all the way back up to the castle."
The thing was a flying bike? Well, now that he knew what it was, he could pick out two wheels and a set of steering handles, but some other parts seemed to be missing. "I knew someone once who had a flying bike," he said.
"Really? I don't suppose he could tell me how to get it working? Dad made me my old one last year after we saw ET, but the WPC people told me to limit how much I brought over, so I figured I'd just pick one up cheap at a thrift store once I got here and enchant it myself, only it's a little harder than I thought it would be, the aerodynamics are really odd."
She seemed to have a habit of babblingtalking nervously, and Severus didn't think he'd understood more than half of that, so he answered the part that he had. "I don't think he could be of much help, as he's currently in prison."
"Oh!" she said. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not," he replied, smiling just a little. "He wasn't exactly a friend."
"Oh," she said again. "Well. I hope you won't hold that against me? You must be one of my new coworkers."
"Coworker," he said blankly.
"Yeah, I'm going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts down at the school this year," she said. "You work there, don't yoo? This path only leads up to the school, and there's hardly anyone there now. Wait, let me guess," she said, holding a hand up. "McGonagall, Sprout, Trelawney, Sinistra, Vector, Hooch and Pomfrey are presumably females, I've already met Kettleburn and Dumbledore and Hagrid, Binns is supposedly a ghost, and you somehow don't look like a Flitwick. That leaves Filch or--"
"Severus Snape," he supplied, inclining his head. "May I inquire as to how gained your position?"
"Actually?" she said. "I'm not all that sure myself. I was assigned here as a volunteer for the WPC. Wizarding Peace Corps?" She clarified, "United States government organization that sends bright and enthusiastic young people out into the world to spread truth, justice, and the American way?" She shrugged. "My degree is in Geomancy, and the WPC usually goes to third world countries to aid in development. I have to admit I was rather expecting to spend my enlistment teaching some tribal shaman in Ethiopia the proper village configuration to protect against famine, not teaching Dark Arts in the most preten-- pre-eminent," she amended, "wizarding boarding school in Europe. The Headmaster must have sent them a request for a volunteer; the director is apparently an old friend of his; but I don't know why he'd have to. Professor Kettleburn said something about how the position's cursed and nobody lasts for more than a year in it, but as he's down to seven fingers and one foot, I don't know how he has any room to talk. Anyway, it's hard to believe there weren't any more qualified applicants."
She squatted back down and started tucking her tools away in her pockets. Severus could see from this angle that her hair was held in its twist by a polished wooden stick that he realized suddenly must be her wand. She looked up at him. "Maybe he wanted to work on the cross-cultural understanding? Give the students a view of the American outlook on magic? That is supposed to be one of the main purpose of the WPC." She stood up, and wiped her hands on her trousers again. "Severus Snape," she said. "You teach potions, right?"
"In fact," he said, with a hint of menace, "I applied for the Defense position. Professor Dumbledore put me in Potions instead."
"Great!" she said, her face lighting up. "Maybe you can help me out when I get totally lost this year. If you want to, that is," she added.
no subject
1) I don't already have enough things with which to waste time at work,
2) You hate me and want to subject me to unfinished dreck,
3) If you don't this dragon that Rebecca made for me will eat you
and 4) I like your writing:-D
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Actually, the only other thing of his I've read is The House with a Clock in Its Walls; that was a long time ago, and I don't remember if I even finished it; I do remember that I immediately thereafter started getting freaked out every time I heard a ticking sound at night, and decided for the sake of my mental health I should not read any more of his. He had this wonderful talent for twisting the ordinary into horror.