Snape's Good Temper

On Saturday morning, Rose yawned as she struggled out of her soft four-poster bed. They had stayed up playing far too late the night before. Luckily, none of them had been caught by the Prefects on patrol.

Lily and the others were still asleep, but Rose had to get up and go to the library. Madam Pince had sent her a message the day before, saying she could come back to work.

The common room was quiet. The fire in the hearth had burned out, leaving a lingering warmth, and a few fifth-year students sat in a corner, studying intently for their OWLs.

Rose walked through the silent corridors, where the portraits were all still snoring.

When she arrived at the library, Madam Pince was muttering to herself, complaining endlessly that the students didn't take proper care of the books.

"Oh, you're here!" She sighed in relief when she saw Rose. "There's plenty to do today. Two younger students got into a fight over on the north side yesterday—the little brats made an awful mess!"

"Leave it to me, Madam. All it needs is a Reparo-" Rose said cheerfully.

The library was deserted in the early morning. She moved among the rows of bookshelves, almost enjoying herself. If she looked closely at the shafts of light streaming through the windows, she could see tiny particles floating in them.

Rose couldn't help drawing her wand and giving it a gentle flick in the air. The dust drifted slowly into motion, stretching forward like a ribbon all the way to the corner at the end of the shelves.

"Beautiful spell." A thin figure appeared at the other end of the tall bookshelf. Snape gazed quietly at the lovely sight before him, a flicker of appreciation in his eyes. "A variation of the Dusting Charm—you really are very good at these things."

"Thank you. If I remember correctly, it's only eight in the morning," Rose said bluntly. "Are all Slytherin students as studious as you?"

Snape seemed to be in a good mood. He walked over quietly, his billowing black robes stirring up a breeze behind him and giving him an imposing air. "There doesn't seem to be a school rule against entering the library early in the morning, does there?" He gave a mocking smile. "Perhaps you could ask Black. He surely knows the school rules better than you do-doesn't he?"

"Did you come to the library first thing in the morning just to spew venom?" Rose said irritably. She couldn't understand what Snape wanted, but she wasn't interested in anything he did.

"Of course not," he denied, changing the subject. "Although you're a reckless, impulsive Gryffindor, I won't deny that you're very talented at charms. As it happens, I've done a little research in that area myself-" His voice was low and enticing. "I trust you've received my Christmas present-"

"I threw it into the fireplace ages ago!" Rose said quickly. "I told you long ago, we're not the same sort of people, Snape."

"What a shame. Those were just some little inventions, little creations-to make things more convenient for us." He reached out and waved his wand gently, and a hazy atmosphere settled around them. "Muffliato. Very effective at preventing others from eavesdropping."

In truth, Rose had lied. The parchment was still safely tucked beneath her pillow. When she received the gift, she had discovered that it recorded some very useful spells, including the famous Muffliato from the original story.

On impulse, she had kept the parchment. When school started, she had tucked it into the very bottom of her suitcase and brought it with her.

Snape seemed very good at reading people. He didn't expose her bluff. The corner of his mouth lifted almost absentmindedly in a knowing smile. "We're not studying Dark Magic, Claude. We only want to explore the mysteries of magic. Surely you're very curious too—it's so captivating. Magic is simply full of wonders. Don't you want to understand these profound and fascinating spells?"

"You're lying. You, your little group, are obsessed with studying Dark Magic. Every Gryffindor knows that!" Rose met his black eyes warily and saw him give a disdainful snort.

"Every Gryffindor." Every letter passed slowly over his lips, and a look of contempt appeared on his face. "Think about it. Right under Dumbledore's nose, we can't do anything! We're simply-eager to learn."

Rose narrowed her eyes and studied his expression. Snape stood where he was, looking calm and open, with even a barely perceptible hint of pleasure.

"I don't know what you're planning, and I don't want to know what you Slytherins are doing either-" Rose said hesitantly.

"We're only doing the same thing you are," he said with conviction. Then he asked again, almost enticingly, "Don't you want to join me in making more, even better creations?"

Rose appeared unmoved, but she understood that much of her own research was already skirting the edge of Dark Magic. She held fast to her principles, though, and understood that once she ventured into that field, a single careless step could send her into an endless abyss.

"Think how much money, fame, and recognition we could gain-" Snape continued. "We'll become masters of charms like Miranda Goshawk. Our names will be printed on Chocolate Frogs-every student in the future will learn the spells we created!" A wistful, satisfied smile on his face, he spoke in a low, hoarse voice.

Rose pressed her lips together. She was acutely aware that her resolve was gradually wavering under his persuasion. There was no one who didn't want to leave a bold mark on history.

As long as she stayed resolute and made sure never to enter the field of Dark Magic, surely there would be no problem—a faint voice kept clamoring inside her, urging her to accept the olive branch Snape had offered.

"I only conduct ordinary research." Rose heard her own voice ring out in the quiet room.

A smile crossed Snape's face, a mixture of satisfaction, surprise, and a cryptic expression Rose couldn't understand. As if afraid she might change her mind, he said quickly, "Then it's settled. After dinner today-" He seemed rather uncertain about where to meet.

"The Potions Classroom would be a good place," Rose said softly. "Professor Slughorn would surely be delighted to lend it to his star Potions Class pupil for an evening."

"Heh-" A smug look appeared on Snape's face. Rose's words had pleased him greatly. "Then let me help you tidy up!"

Rose followed him silently to the corner Madam Pince had described, the one that had been left in a terrible mess.

Hardly any books remained on the shelves, which reached almost to the ceiling. They lay scattered haphazardly across the floor, with torn parchment and quills strewn among them.

"Such a stupid, reckless talent for destruction. An ordinary person could hardly dream of possessing it." Even though Snape had no idea who was responsible, that didn't stop him from exercising his talent for sarcasm.

"That's wonderful. If standing there talking counts as helping me-" Rose waved her wand, sending the books back to their proper places. "Then you've been a tremendous help!" she said sarcastically.

Snape's expression soured, but a secret pleasure and wicked thoughts allowed him to ignore Rose's sarcasm. In a rare display of good temper, he began waving his wand.