A single sheet of parchment lay on Snape's desk amid the wreckage of his office. The handwriting was neat, confident, and infuriatingly familiar.
[If you're reading this, Professor, you already know most of the truth. I never actually expected Pansy Parkinson to keep anything from Dumbledore… or from you.
So first, let me apologize for the mess I made of your office.
To make it up to you, I'm willing to cover the cost of your research for the next three years. No limits, no restrictions, whatever you need. Unlimited budget.
Of course, it comes with two small conditions.
One: I get to see your results.
Two: You take on an assistant. I think Theodore Nott would be perfect for the job.]
Snape's lip curled into a sneer. As if he'd sell his independence for a blank check from some spoiled American heiress.
He kept reading. The sneer slowly froze on his face.
[I'm guessing you're smirking right now, thinking there's no way Severus Snape would accept funding with strings attached.
I'm not finished.
You've had a sponsor for years, haven't you? If I had to guess… the Malfoys.
More specifically, Lucius Malfoy. Am I warm?]
Snape's eyebrow twitched. He read on, curiosity overriding his irritation.
[Is the Malfoy money easy to take? Theodore told me a few stories from the dark days, enough for me to put some pieces together.
So tell me, when Lucius wires the gold, is it really his idea… or the Dark Lord's?
In other words, are you a partner to the Malfoys… or just Voldemort's errand boy?
I'm not asking you to choose between me and them. All I want is for my money to quietly join the pot, and for me to quietly receive copies of whatever you discover.
If you're interested, talk to Theodore. He speaks for me.
Here's what I can promise that no one else ever will: in this arrangement, you stay in charge. Completely.
Norton values talent. And talent gets autonomy.]
Snape actually tsked out loud.
No mistaking it. The girl knew exactly which buttons to press. "Voldemort's errand boy." The phrase burned.
With a lazy flick of his wand, he levitated the two unconscious Slytherins (Marcus Flint and some thick-headed kid named Bode) off the floor and marched them toward the hospital wing, not bothering to hide the spectacle.
Students gawked in the corridors as their terrifying Potions Master floated two of his own House behind him like luggage. By the time he reached the hospital wing and handed them off to Madam Pomfrey, the entire castle was buzzing.
Professor McGonagall came barreling in minutes later, out of breath and furious.
"Severus, what on earth is going on?!"
"I heard you were dragging two unconscious students through the halls in broad torchlight!"
McGonagall looked horrified. A professor attacking students was the kind of scandal Hogwarts simply did not have.
Snape, who actually liked Minerva despite the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry, answered calmly, "Flint and Bode broke into my office and destroyed over a decade of private research. Feel free to go look at the wreckage."
McGonagall's hand flew to her mouth. Even she knew how much a Potions master's private stock was worth. She was momentarily speechless.
"But… even so… you can't just assault students!"
"I didn't touch them," Snape said flatly. "They were already out cold when I found them. Dumbledore is aware. He'll handle it."
The mention of Dumbledore worked like a charm. McGonagall deflated, tension easing from her shoulders. After all these years, Albus was still the castle's anchor.
She glanced at the beds where Pomfrey was fussing over the boys and asked, "Well? What's their punishment?"
Snape didn't even blink. "Fifty points each from Slytherin. One year's detention."
McGonagall's eyebrows shot up. A hundred points gone in one go, from his own House? That wasn't the Severus Snape she knew, especially after the loss he'd just suffered.
But the look on his face said the decision was final, so she let it stand. (The other three Houses certainly weren't complaining.)
As they left the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey called after him, "Severus, that's three Slytherins unconscious in the past few days. You might want to keep a closer eye on your snakes!"
Snape's face turned to stone. Students in the corridor took one look at him and practically dove out of his way.
By dinner, the story had grown legs: Snape personally knocked out two of his own students and carried them through the castle like trophies.
By the time Harry, Ron, and Hermione heard about it in the afternoon, the tale had reached legendary status.
Ron listened to Neville recount the "facts," then turned to Harry with a dazed expression.
"It's already mutated into this version?"
Harry just stared back, equally stunned.
Only Hermione reacted like a normal person, clapping a hand over her mouth in horror. "My goodness! A professor attacking students? That's awful!"
Dean nodded solemnly beside her. "Yeah, even in Muggle schools that's basically unheard of."
Harry and Ron turned to stare at Hermione, who was still wide-eyed and gasping like she hadn't orchestrated the entire thing.
Harry caught Ron's eye and read the message loud and clear.
She's scary good at this acting thing.