The First Non-Surprise

When the Headmaster gathered all the professors together at the end of the school year and explained just what had happened between the Voldemort-possessed Quirrell and one Harry Potter Snape was completely unsurprised.

Typical – just like his father . . . can’t follow a rule if his life depended on it.

“What’s his punishment to be?” Snape asked, imagining days of detention, feet of essays, tonnes of ingredients to be pickled and sliced and chopped into tiny pieces.

“Punishment?” Albus blinked vaguely at him. “Why, what could he need punishing for? He saved the Stone from Voldemort!”

Ignoring the wince that his former master’s name always caused, Snape began spluttering in outrage.

“But he . . . they were . . . curfew . . .”

“A job well done,” Albus said, proudly. His blue eyes twinkled at his infuriated Potions Master.

Oh, yes, Snape knew which way the wind was blowing now. The Boy Who Lived. The Golden Boy. The Gryffindor. Snape’s lip curled up into a sneer. Well, he for one would provide some much needed discipline to the boy.

Reckless Gryffindors. Useless, the lot of them.

The Second Non-Surprise

It was eerie just how like last year this meeting was.

“Let me make sure I understand this correctly,” Snape said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ginny Weasley is taken into the Chamber, and somehow Mr Potter manages to discover where it is and how to open it. Mr Potter and Mr Weasley then all but kidnap a professor, even if he is inept, and force him to go down into the Chamber with them.

“At some point, there is . . . an altercation of some kind, and Lockhart’s memory charm backfires onto himself, bringing down half the tunnel and rendering both him and Mr Weasley incapable of continuing onwards.

“Mr Potter therefore carries on alone and discovers Miss Weasley in the Chamber, drained almost to the point of death by a diary, which has the capability of talking and reacting in a human manner, although no visible brain.

“This diary turns out to hold the shade of one Tom Riddle, who later becomes the Dark Lord. After arguing to and fro, the Dark Lord sets a Basilisk on Potter, who with the timely help of Fawkes and the Sorting Hat, manages to defeat this shade and save Miss Weasley, with Fawkes bringing everyone safely out of the Chamber.

“Have I missed anything?” he finished, sarcastically.

“No, that sounds about right,” Albus agreed.

“And his punishment?” Snape asked. He didn’t really expect that the Headmaster would ever dare to punish his Chosen One, but he had to at least make the effort.

“Punishment? For saving Miss Weasley? Why, Severus, what kind of impression would that give the other students?” Twinkling more than ever, Albus made his grand exit.

Snape gnashed his teeth. Abominable Gryffindors.

The Third Non-Surprise

So angry he could spit basilisk venom, Snape stormed away from the infirmary. He knew Potter and the Granger girl had helped Sirius Black to escape. He just knew it! It was the kind of foolhardy thing that soft-hearted, self-righteous Gryffindors did all the time – and at least twice before breakfast.

That mangy mutt . . . how dare Lupin help Black onto the grounds? An Animagus – Snape snorted. A filthy, flea-ridden, scrawny cur. And had Lupin told anyone about his friend’s ability? Oh, no, of course not!

Snape growled at the mere thought of Lupin. “Trust me, Severus, it’ll be fine,” he mimicked, his voice tight and angry. “I’m perfectly capable of drinking the potion on my own, Severus. No need to hound the poor boy, Severus.”

And the Dementors . . . so many of them! A shiver of fear went down his spine, and he hastily looked around, ensuring the one Fudge had brought with him for Black was nowhere nearby. How on earth had Potter managed to get rid of them all?

“Our Mr Potter is a very powerful wizard, with a powerful capacity for love,” was all Albus had said. Humphf! Our Mr Potter indeed. Not likely! The sun would be made of green cheese before Potter was ever his.

And what was worse – he knew precisely how it had been done. Hadn’t Albus and Minerva spoken to them all at the beginning of the year about the Time-Turner the Ministry had granted to the Granger girl? Hadn’t they warned that they might not notice her entering or leaving their classes?

“Professor?” A fifth-year Slytherin was standing at the entrance to the dungeons. “Is everything alright? We heard howling outside . . .”

A wicked idea suddenly crossed Snape’s mind. “Indeed, Miss Trollor, you did. Please warn your fellow prefects to alert any member of staff about students out of bed. We have a werewolf running loose in the grounds tonight.”

The prefect paled. “A w-w-werewolf?” she stammered. “But . . . didn’t Professor Lupin go . . . ?”

“Yes. Yes, he did,” Snape said, greatly satisfied when the light of understanding dawned in her eyes.

One less Gryffindor to torment him tomorrow.

The Fourth Non-Surprise

After the champions – four, not three – had disappeared into the side chamber, Snape ground his teeth. Typical Potter – so desperate for more fame and glory that he ensured he entered the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Just like his father, ignoring the rules as though they were the exception.

How had Potter done it? Dumbledore had drawn the Age Line, and as proved so admirably by the Weasley twins, it did its job exceedingly well. So Potter couldn’t have sneaked over it himself. He had to have gotten somebody to help him.

Snape scoffed at the thought – there were undoubtedly any number of people in the school, including Albus Dumbledore, who would do anything the Golden Boy wanted whenever he batted his eyes at them.

Except . . . Dumbledore was truly surprised when the fourth name came out of the Goblet. Snape drummed his fingers on the table in front of him. So Potter had made someone else do it then. What had he promised them in return? An autograph, perhaps? A date? A kiss? Probably just accepted their help as his due . . . Snape thought.

“Severus, could you come with us, please,” Dumbledore’s voice interrupted his musings, and Snape joined him at the door of the antechamber.

Merlin save me from glory-hungry Gryffindors!

The Fifth Non-Surprise

Stupid boy! Stupid, idiotic, reckless, brain-dead idiot! What on earth had possessed Potter and his band of Merry Men to go gallivanting off to the Ministry? It really wasn’t that hard to discover whether Black was truly being held by the Dark Lord or whether he was sitting safe and snug in Order Headquarters.

But of course Potter hadn’t wanted to give up his connection to the Dark Lord’s mind – he didn’t want to give up being special. If the idiot boy had worked harder – or even at all – at Occlumency, then the whole debacle need never have happened, as Potter would have known the vision for being as false as it was.

Most likely Potter had hoped to see something like another attack, then he could have swooped in as the savior and gain himself even more glory.

Instead, because he’d known best and dashed off on a harebrained mission, then he’d found no glory, only pain and misery and murder.

Maybe now the reckless Gryffindor will actually listen to his betters . . .

Well, a man could dream.

The Surprise

Potter hadn’t bragged. Potter hadn’t spread it throughout the whole of Gryffindor to be used indiscriminately on his Slytherins.

Why hadn’t Potter spread that spell around?

Snape was having a hard time believing it. After what he’d done to Malfoy in that abandoned bathroom, Snape had expected hordes of Slytherin attacks to happen. Instead, there wasn’t even a whisper of a rumour of Malfoy being injured.

Could Potter have finally found a conscience? Maybe miracles did happen . . .

What does Potter really want? He must be after something – it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. Any Slytherin could tell him that.

Surely Potter couldn’t be sorry, shocked, appalled at what he’d done. He’d been fighting with Malfoy since their first year, such enmity couldn’t disappear that quickly, surely.

But as the days passed, and no students were sliced open by a spell of his own design, Snape had to admit that this time it appeared Potter was well and truly sorry it had happened.

Amazing. Maybe there’s hope for the Gryffindor yet.