A Muggle in Wizard's Clothing

By clare009

Disclaimer: Harry Potter's universe and all it contains is the brainchild and property of JK Rowlings. No infringement or disrespect is intended.

Rating: PG13

Genre: A Severus Snape fic. romance/humour/drama/action/adventure...

Chapter 3: Secrets

Summary: Snape's his usual, nasty self and the fifth years get the brunt of his foul mood - but what's really disturbing him?

"Technically, how long do you have to wait for a teacher before you can call it a free lesson?" Ron leaned over to ask Harry.

Hermione stuck her head between the two. "It hasn't even been five minutes."

"Yeah, but Snape's never late."

"He's also never absent, and he was yesterday," Harry added, pushing his glasses up his nose, his look reminding Hermione that they already had this conversation. "Besides, in my opinion, five minutes without having to deal with Snape is better than a whole day of Quidditch."

"Mister Potter," said a smooth voice from behind the trio. "I do believe I should make it up to you with detention."

Harry shuddered visibly, and all three looked up cautiously to find Professor Snape glaring down at them. His hands were folded in front of him, while his black robes billowed bat-like out behind him. The expression on his face was his signature perpetual sneer, overwritten at the moment with irritation.

Harry was about to protest, but Snape cut him off, "You will report to my office immediately after school - and don't be late. Not even five minutes, Potter." He whirled around in order to enter the Potions classroom and Harry made a sour face behind his back. Detention with Snape was worse than living with the Dursleys - at least the Dursleys were afraid of him. Snape swung back around to face Harry. "And, five points off Gryffindor."

"But, Professor..." Ron burst out at the injustice.

"Each!" Snape bit out the word, then disappeared into his classroom.

"Harry," Hermione whispered as the students filed, subdued, into Snape's classroom, "you'd better keep a low profile during the lesson - we could loose the house cup in one day if Snape continues to take points off Gryffindor."

Harry scowled, but as he went to his seat, he did his best to school his features into a look of pure innocence and congeniality. If Snape was itching to pick on him today, let him work to find a reason.

"Sit!" barked Snape once all the students were at their places. He was already crouched behind his desk with his nose buried in parchment, not bothering to look up as he commanded the class.

They shuffled quickly into their seats, then waited rigidly for the Professor to begin the lesson for the day, but Snape remained obscured behind his desk and the parchment he appeared to be reading. After an awkward silence, several Slytherins began to snigger quietly and a couple of Gryffindors started a whispered conversation. Hermione, worried, stuck her hand into the air.

"What are you doing," Ron hissed at her and got out of his seat to tug at her arm.

Snape chose that moment to look up from his parchment. "Of course, why would it be anyone other than a Weasley? Five points, Mister Weasley, for disrupting my lesson."

"What lesson?" Ron muttered under his breath. Unfortunately, he didn't count on the fact that Snape had shrewd eyesight, for all his potion brewing, and the uncanny ability to read lips.

"If you are in anyway unsatisfied with my ability to teach this subject, Mister Weasley, then perhaps you believe you can do better. Do you?" Ron just stared at him, pale and insolent at the same time. "Answer me!" Snape raised his voice and caused everyone in the class to jump. Professor Snape never spoke above conversation level in class - he didn't have to, but now he had everyone's shocked attention.

"No, Sir," mumbled Ron.

"Very good, Mister Weasley," Snape said in deceptively placated tones. "But, somehow, I doubt it... Come here, Mister Weasley."

Ron was trembling. Anyone would have guessed he was afraid of Snape, but Hermione knew better - he was shaking with suppressed rage. She cast a worried glance at Harry who's eyes were fixed on his friend. "Excuse me?" Ron said softly.

"Over here, Weasley," Snape waved his hand almost expansively. "You are already standing, surely it can't be too much trouble to connect brain to ligaments and propel yourself in my direction?"

"Yes, Sir," Ron said and walked reluctantly towards Snape's desk, although he held his back up straight.

When he got there, Snape placed a small object on the edge of his impeccably clean desk. "Go ahead, pick it up, boy," he sneered. Ron didn't move. The Professor's eyes narrowed threateningly; there was no room for defiance under that look. He leaned forward. "Pick ... It ... Up."

With a shaking hand, Ron managed to retrieve the small, white object off the desk, all the while keeping his eyes glued to the floor.

"Well done." Snape's smile was chilling. He leaned back and faced the rest of the class. "Today's lesson, my beloved Hogwarts students, will be conducted by our very own Mister Ronald Weasley. Please pay strict attention to what he has to say. I am sure you will learn much."

Nobody breathed. Ron's complexion was becoming a raging shade of red as he felt the shame of being singled out in front of his peers and anger at Snape's level of callousness. From her seat, Hermione willed him to play along with Snape. She couldn't understand why the Potions Master was being more cruel than usual. His punishments were always sharp and cauterising, but she sensed that today there was a fragile limit to his self-control and they were about to find out what he was like without it.

Behind Hermione, Harry's mouth had compressed into a thin line and his green eyes flashed with anger. If magic could have been done by will alone, Snape would have been enveloped in a green fire and burned until nothing remained. Harry could sense it building in himself.

"What are you waiting for, Mr Weasley," Snape was saying, "there's the chalkboard, and you have in your hands the honoured tool of the profession. Now, educate!" His lips spread into an congenial smile for the rest of the class. "Come now, it appears Mr Weasley needs your encouragement. I am sure your young, untried minds are thirsting for the all knowledge he is able to impart to them. Perhaps he needs to know how... enthusiastic you are for his instruction."

Some of the Slytherins giggled at this, and Draco Malfoy's hand shot up into the air in an unsubtle imitation of Hermione. "Mr Weasley, oh Mr Weasley," Draco said in a high-pitched voice. "We're desperate for you to teach us what you know. We'll just die if you don't!" The Slytherins laughed openly, but Hermione blushed. Ron didn't move his eyes from the spot on the ground in front of him and Snape pursed his lips cruelly.

"Mr Weasley," Pansy Parkinson called out along side Draco, her voice simpering, "please tell us about your superior fashion sense? How do you manage to colour co-ordinate hand-me-downs?" Her cohorts snorted.

Other Slytherins got bolder and started to shout their own 'questions' out to Ron while the Gryffindors remained uncomfortably silent. Snape cocked his head. "You'd answer better them, Weasley. Or perhaps you can't. Finding it more difficult to stand up here than you previously imagined?" His lip curled. "I know exactly what you think of me Weasley - how you think you're better than me, anyone's better than that slimy, greasy Snape. Well, look at you now. Can't even look me in the eye! And I thought you were a Gryffindor with all the courage a Gryffindor is supposed to have. Well," Snape leaned forward, his voice dropping to a cold whisper that could still be heard across the room. "you're not worth the boots that Godric Gryffindor walked around in. You're nothing, Weasley - never were, never will be. You'll end up like your misbegotten father, shoved aside into some dead end job with nothing but a gaggle of unmanageable spawn to call your legacy - "

"ENOUGH!"

Snape and Ron both snapped their heads up at the shout that came from the back of the classroom. Harry Potter was out of his seat, breathing heavily with his wand in one of his clenched fists.

"Potter..." Snape hissed and moved so fast it was impossible to tell how he came to stand in front of his desk. He faced Harry down at the other end of the classroom. "Are you challenging me, Potter?"

The tension in the room was oppressive and some of the students, mostly Slytherins, began to edge silently towards the nearest exit. Ron just stood bewildered behind Snape, while Hermione shut her eyes and hoped like hell that there was a God and that he would intervene before things got destructive.

"Excuse me, am I interrupting anything?" Miss Goldfind stood in the doorway.

***

For Severus Snape, the entire room seemed to concentrate into one point. Lilian's eyes were wide and questioning, but Snape knew there was fiery anger beneath. Suddenly, reality crashed down on him and he realised that he had just come dangerously close to doing something unthinkable.

Blinking, dazed, Snape looked away from the accusation in Lilian's eyes to Potter and the rest of the class. Harry was still standing there, rigid and angry, but the fight seemed to have left him.

"Professor Snape, may I speak to you privately?" Lilian said in a low voice which was nonetheless commanding.

Snape found that his hands were shaking. As much as he had never been particularly congenial or sympathetic to any of his students, he was always completely in control of his emotions. He knew too well what a loss of self-control could result in and his still bubbling emotions told him that he had come dangerously close to it. He should never have let Potter and his friends cause such a volatile reaction in him - it was irrational, but after the previous night and the events before it, nothing seemed to make much sense anymore.

"Severus..." Lilian called him again when he didn't respond.

The class was now staring at him as, for the first time, Professor Snape looked like he was unsure of what to do. He narrowed his eyes. "Will you excuse me," he said to the students as if Miss Goldfind had disturbed nothing more than a mundane Potion's lecture. He turned and walked out the door and past Lilian, leaving stunned silence behind him.

Snape rounded the corner of the passage outside and had a strong desire to keep on walking. He certainly didn't want to confront Lilian - she would want answers to things he didn't even know the questions for. As much as he had become quite enamoured of Moody's substitute, he was not quite ready to open up to her. As it was, he was still not certain he could trust her - there were too many gaps about her that needed filling in.

But, instead of running, Severus leaned resignedly against the damp corridor wall and waited for Lilian's inevitable chastisement. She came to stand in front of him, face upturned, hands on hips and feet slightly apart as if ready for a skirmish. He braced himself.

"I came to see if you were all right, after..." she began, surprisingly hesitant. "I'm not sure what I expected to find." Her eyes dropped away from his.

Severus felt a strange lurch in his chest. Why does this have to be so damn difficult? Swallowing, he spoke in careful tones, "What did you witness?"

Lilian shook her head, copper curls casting shadows over her face. "All of it, Severus. You humiliated Ron in front of his peers, a boy who has self-esteem problems as it is. And then Harry..." she went quiet and Severus saw her jaw clench. Her eyes were on his again - filled with confusion now, rather than accusation. "The look on your face - I can't forget it Severus. I thought you were going to murder the child. For one moment, I honestly thought you were. I could see Avada Kedava on your lips. I can't think, won't even contemplate what might have happened if I had not interrupted."

He felt the pressure building again and it was once more completely irrational. "Do you really think I'm capable of harming a student?" His emotions bled into his voice and made his lips curl.

Something flashed in Lillian's eyes. "I'm not sure what I think anymore. You treat me like I'm dirt, but the next thing I know, you're kissing me and telling me all these things about needing me. Then, I don't see you for days, and when I do - you're a wreck and you fall completely apart. Now you're back to being snide and cruel and who knows what else." Her voice had raised beyond comfort level. "Will the real Severus Snape please stand up? Because I sure as hell don't have the energy to deal with this."

"Well, you know what, you're not exactly forthcoming about yourself, either. For example, that little game of seduction you played? Don't tell me you were innocent of your intentions, Miss Goldfind," he sneered. If there was one thing he was good at, it was sneering and Lilian blanched. "You say you are a Muggle, but why would Dumbledore hire a Muggle to teach at Hogwarts? Especially now when the Dark Lord is once more at large and every Wizard on the side of good is getting ready for the battle. Why you at a time like this?" He reached out his hand to grab her head as she turned away. "Look at me, damn you! Who are you?"

Her eyes were diamond hard and just as pale as his fingers dug into her face, holding her gaze to his. "I guess we all have our little secrets, Severus," she spat.

His throat emitted a low growl and he ripped away from her, almost pushing her back violently. "My brand of sarcasm doesn't suit you, dear."

"Dumbledore was so wrong about you," she breathed. Snape flinched and turned towards her, but she was already retreating down the corridor.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he leaned against the wall, this time for support. His legs felt completely drained of the strength to keep him upright and his normally staid emotions were in an turmoil. It's better this way, he told himself. Better she doesn't know.

When he felt that he could control himself a bit more, Snape pursed his lips and entered his classroom again. A dozen pairs of wide eyes stared at him and it was more than he could take. "Get out," he whispered hoarsely. Nobody batted an eyelid. "GET OUT!" he roared and Gryffindors and Slytherins alike scrambled to get through the door.

When the room was finally empty, he sank down into the chair at his desk and buried his head in his hands.

What the hell is happening to me? he thought.

***

"Harry, calm down, you have to think rationally," Hermione had her arm around her rigid friend's shoulder.

"I'm going to kill him, I swear," Harry muttered under his breath. "If he ever treats anyone like that again, I will personally take him out. And don't think I can't!"

Ron cast a worried look at Hermione. "Let it go, Harry. You know what Snape is like. He's a bastard. He's always been a bastard - you've never let it get to you before now."

The enraged boy looked up at his friend. "How can you say that after everything he said to you?"

Shrugging, Ron said, "It's not like I haven't heard any of those things before."

"I don't care, I really don't. I hate him."

Hermione sighed. "Let's just put this aside for now. We can talk about it after we've all gained some perspective. I honestly think that there's something behind all this - Snape's been acting weird recently, anyway."

"What? More so than usual?" Ron chimed in, trying to make light of it, but Harry only gritted his teeth more.

"Also, I think he had a row with Miss Goldfind," Hermione continued.

Ron smiled and his eyes glinted. "Of course he did! She put him in his place - about time someone did, too. Our dear Professor Snape can criticise anyone he likes, but he can't take it if someone hauls him over the coals. If you ask me, he's got his tail between his legs right now." He laughed.

"I thought you believed they were in on something together." Hermione raised her eyebrow.

"Snape and Miss Goldfind? Where did you get that idea? She's miles better than he is."

"I would second that," Harry quietly joined the conversation.

"Yeah, more like Snape's jealous as hell that the Headmaster likes her better than him."

Hermione shook her head. "Can't you boys stick to one conspiracy theory?"

"Hey, wait up you three," a breathless voice called from behind. They swung around to see a rather flustered looking Cho Chang. She was a prefect and quite a pretty girl that Harry rather fancied. "I've been trying to find your class - you weren't in Potions."

"Snape kicked us out," Harry said, not trying to hide his contempt.

Cho frowned. "Well, I have to try and find the rest of them - the Headmaster's called an emergency assembly in the Great Hall. You'd better go and join the rest of the school," she said, then dashed off quickly down the corridor.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other in amazement.

"What do you think this is all about?" Harry asked as they hurried towards the Great Hall.

"Beats me. Perhaps he's going to publicly whip Snape for abusing children," Ron said.

"We can hope, " Harry grinned while Hermione rolled her eyes behind them. She was glad, though, that Harry was smiling.

***

Lilian was just as in the dark about the emergency meeting in the Great Hall as Harry and his friends. She was walking stony-faced out of the dungeons when Cho had rushed headlong into her and then informed her of the assembly. The words of her argument with Snape were still ringing in her mind as she made her way to the staff table through the nervously chattering students in the Hall.

Most of the Students and their teachers had already gathered there, but Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen and neither was Snape.

That's a relief, thought Lilian. She had no desire to get into another conflict with the maddening Potions Master - her life was complicated enough. He has some serious problems anyway... He needs help - I would recommend a frontal lobotomy.

A short while later and the chattering in the hall had escalated - what with all the students speculating why Dumbledore had summoned them. Lilian kept morosely to herself, but a rustle of cloth beside her made her look up.

"You look perturbed, Miss Goldfind. Penny for your thoughts?"

"Professor McGonagall... I'm fine, thank you," Lilian stammered. She had not had much to do with the Gryffindor Head of House - a rather stern but scrupulously fair woman by the looks of her. She knew, however, that her Grandfather relied on the Transfiguration teacher a great deal, and that they were even good friends. She wasn't sure how much the woman knew about her relationship to Dumbledore, though.

"You know, I don't need a Sneakoscope to tell when someone is lying," McGonagall took the empty seat next to Lilian without invitation. "You look as pale as an owl, my dear and you are not very good at concealing your emotions - you've been scowling to yourself for the last twenty minutes, at least."

Lilian smiled a little. "I wouldn't want to bother you - it's not really important, Professor." She hoped the other woman would get the hint and leave her alone.

"Please, call me Minerva. And really, it's no bother. Tell me - are the students giving you any problems? I could organise a little discussion with them if they are."

"No, not the students. I think I can handle whatever they throw at me - or at least I have been up to now."

Minerva smiled and it softened her hard features dramatically. Lilian suddenly thought that she must have been a very beautiful woman when she was younger. "Glad to hear that," Minerva continued. "You seem to be made of tough stock - although I must admit that I did wonder why our Headmaster hired you to begin with."

"I'm not quite sure I understand why he did, myself." Lilian frowned.

The laugh from Minerva was quite unexpected and quite charming. "The inscrutable reasons of Dumbledore the Wizard! I have learned, by trial and error I'll have you know, that it is useless to challenge those reasons. He's usually right in the end."

Lilian looked directly at Minerva, her expression suddenly concerned. "And what if he's not? What if he's finally wrong?"

Minerva nodded in sympathy. "Is that what's bothering you? That the Headmaster may be fallible?"

"In a way, yes."

"Nobody's perfect, my dear. Not even someone as brilliant as Dumbledore. But what I've found from experience is that he's never wrong about the things that really matter. Sometimes it may seem otherwise, but if he's told you something that you don't quite understand just yet, hold on to that - trust it - don't let anything shake that foundation." Minerva's eyes were challenging and encouraging at the same time and somehow Lilian felt better for it. It was small, but there was hope after all. "And, speak of the man, himself." Minerva smiled and turned to where Dumbledore had entered the Great Hall.

His entrance was enough to hush the students and staff alike, particularly as his countenance was unusually grave. He came to stand informally in front of the school, his robes gleaming in the half light and his eyes a darker shade of blue than usual. Drawing himself up to his full height, Dumbledore scanned the faces of each one in the room, giving them a penetrating look. No secrets were permissible under that gaze.

He caught Lilian's eyes once, and she thought she saw sadness in his countenance, but then he passed over her to continue with his appraisal of his Hogwarts family.

No child or adult was left uncounted and unmeasured by Dumbledore, and when he was done, he spoke three words, "It has begun."

Nobody moved at the news - they all knew what Dumbledore was referring to - it had not been unexpected.

"I received word this morning that several Muggle bodies were found by the Muggle police in East Anglia yesterday. They were murdered. The Ministry of Magic has determined that the victims' deaths were of Magical origin - which can only mean one thing." Dumbledore's mouth compressed into a grim line.

A quiet sound at the other end of the hall caused Lilian to look up. Snape was there, his face drained of any colour and his eyes haunted. She had not been aware that he was in the room in the first place. Then, without a sound, the Potions Master slipped away and disappeared out a back door. Lilian frowned as she wondered why the news had affected him in this manner. A horrible thought began to form in her mind.

She wasn't the only one - in another corner of the room, Harry had been watching Snape all along. His eyes narrowed when he saw the Professor leave and before anyone could see him, he ducked down and stole out after him.

The only other person who's eyes were not on the Headmaster was Draco Malfoy. He was content with watching Lilian.

"The Ministry has called for a State of Emergency and Hogwarts will be going on full alert," Dumbledore was explaining. "No student will be given permission to leave the premises unless he or she is accompanied by a member of staff. We will also be implementing a pairing system whereby each student will be partnered with another. You will not be allowed to walk around the school without your partner at your side - we need to watch out for each other. Anything out of the ordinary will be reported to a member of staff immediately..."

Her grandfather's precaution speech droned out as Lilian thought about Snape. She remembered what he looked like when she had found him in the dungeons in the early morning and how much it had terrified her. He had refused to tell her what had happened to him, and now she was beginning to suspect why.

"Now," Dumbledore said, "in order to give you some advice on what to do should anything happen here at Hogwarts, I would like to call upon your Defence Against Dark Arts teacher."

Lilian's head shot up. Her eyes widened in shock as she looked at her grandfather. She was certainly not prepared for something like this. Teaching lessons where she had source material to use was one thing, but making an impromptu speech about how to combat Voldemort in the corridors to a group of Wizards was quite another. A protest was on her lips when she realised that Dumbledore wasn't looking at her. Instead, the old man seemed to be focused on the back of the hall. Suddenly she saw why; another man - a Wizard with a bent back - was shuffling towards the front. The man looked at her briefly and smiled a toothy smile before assuming his place next to Dumbledore.

It was Professor Moody, himself.

***

Harry had followed Snape all the way down to the dungeons and watched the Professor slink inside his office. Lurking in a dark corner, he was in two minds about what to do for quite a while, but suddenly everything that had happened in Potions class distilled in his mind, and with a fiery look, he decided to confront Snape. Harry realised that he wasn't scared of the Potions Master anymore and he finally felt empowered to do something about him. With true Gryffindor boldness, he walked up to the Professor's door, no invisibility cloak to hide inside, and rapped on it loudly.

"Come," he heard Snape say from behind the door, his voice oddly subdued.

Pushing at the door with the tip of his wand, Harry let it swing open until he could see Snape standing with his back to the door in front of a discreet mirror stand. He swallowed, but said nothing.

Snape turned, his shoulders slumped, and groaned slightly when he saw the boy. "Potter," he hissed. "What are you doing here? I'm not in the mood to deal with you right now."

"I don't care," Harry said, a dangerous glint in his green eyes.

Genuine surprise washed over Snape's face before his eyes hardened. "Leave me alone."

"You killed those people, didn't you?"

Snape reacted again with surprise at the boy's candidness. He turned quickly to hide it, feeling exposed. "You know nothing, Potter. Now go away."

Harry took several steps into Snape's office and gritted his teeth. He was determined to get Snape to confess. "I'm not leaving until you tell me the truth, so you'd better get used to me being here."

Snape turned with a biting stare. "You're just as pig-headed as your father, Potter. Very well, if you want the truth, then I will tell you. But be warned, it's not very nice. Yesterday morning, I woke up in a field close to a small village somewhere in East Anglia. My clothes were in shreds and I was covered in blood - not my own, I might add. I had no wand and my memory of the last twenty-four hours was gone. It took me most of the day and night to get back to Hogwarts, using methods I would rather not divulge in front of a fifteen year old. Suffice it to say, I have been able to think of nothing else since and for all I know, I might bloody well have murdered those people. In fact, with the evidence as it stands, I can't see how it could not have been me. So, call in the Aurors and the Dementors, drag me off to Azkhaban. God knows I deserve it, Potter. God knows..."

Harry blinked. Snape looked completely defeated. He had never seen his teacher in this state before. Usually Snape was so proud and condescending, but now he just looked like a bitter and lonely man. He was also shocked at Snape's confession to him. He hadn't really expected to be told the truth, but Harry knew that he had and that was even more disturbing. "Well," he said hesitantly, "at the very least I think you should tell the Headmaster."

Snape looked up in disbelief. He wasn't quite sure he was hearing Potter correctly. "What did you say?" he whispered hoarsely.

"We need to tell Dumbledore," Harry said more firmly. "He'll know what to do."

Shaking his head, Snape said, "I don't think I can do that. Dumbledore... I mean..." he sighed and put a hand up to his face to rub his temples.

Harry said, "Look, you said you don't remember what happened, right?" Snape nodded mutely. "So there's no evidence that you were involved, and even if you were, it might not have been how you think."

Snape frowned with bitterness. "How else could I possibly be involved?"

With a serious look, Harry dropped his voice. "Did you ever consider that you might have been a victim?"

Snape's eyes snapped wide open and Harry could see that the man was so full of self-loathing that he couldn't imagine that he might not have been the protagonist. It was odd, but he actually pitied Snape. "Do you really think so?" said Snape.

He wasn't sure of what he thought just yet, but he said, "It's a possibility. And if so, Dumbledore might be able to use you to find valuable information. We should definitely tell him."

Snape nodded slowly. "Perhaps you're right, Harry..." There was strange relief on the older man's face. "You could still turn me in though," he said wryly. "There's certainly enough evidence to get me into Azkhaban."

"Why would I want to do that? I wouldn't want to see anyone in there - except perhaps Voldemort."

Sighing, Snape said, "I thought you hated me, Harry."

"I can't stand you Professor, but I don't really hate you," was Harry's straight-faced reply.

"Well, I can't stand you, either, boy," Snape said, but a wry smile played about his lips. "But... Perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement?"

Harry cocked his head to the side. "What agreement?"

Snape's face became serious and there was none of his usual malice there. For a moment, he contemplated the boy. "I need your help," he said eventually.

Harry thought for a while. He realised the sacrifice Snape was making in asking for his help, but he also knew that the Professor didn't really have much choice - not if he wanted his secret kept, anyway. It was a novel idea, though. "Okay, Professor, I'll help you, but you must promise never to tell anyone that I did."

With a touch of dryness, Snape said, "they'd have to drag it out of me with Veritas Serum."

Notes from the author: Once again a big thank you to Yolanda for the thorough beta and encouraging comments. Also thanks to Nieke and Oleander - without your 'nagging' I would not have written more! To the folks who reviewed at Sugarquill and ff.net - your efforts are greatly appreciated!