Severus Evans and the Impudent Brat: Chapter Fourteen
Year One: Severus Evans and the Impudent Brat

Chapter 14: Damage Control




"I'd like to have a word with you in my office, Severus," Minerva said as they exited the Great Hall.

"Certainly, Minerva." He walked along with her in silence until Minerva ushered him over the threshold of her office and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

Immediately Severus turned to face her. "Would you please talk to him, Minerva?"

Minerva looked at him over the top of her spectacles. "I was going to ask you the same thing, Severus."

Severus sighed, shaking his head. "I've tried, Minerva. I've tried."

"So have I, Severus, from the very day he brought it to the school."

Each looked intently at the other.

"Well, Severus." Minerva drew herself to her full height. "All I can suggest is to keep trying, and I promise that I shall do the same."

"Thank you, Minerva." He gave a nod and let himself out of the office.


Slamming his head repeatedly against the castle walls would have been a more constructive use of his time.

"I promised Flamel that I would keep it safe."

"Fine, but does it have to be kept here? This is a school, Dumbledore, not a safe-deposit vault! The safety of the children should be our top priority--which safety you are severely compromising with every day you allow that thing to be kept on the premises."

Dumbledore reached for a lemon drop. "Is their safety any less compromised by keeping you on the premises?"

Severus gaped.

Dumbledore popped the lemon drop into his mouth.

Severus snapped his jaw shut, glaring at Dumbledore. "I have been looking after their safety from the day I began my post. If not for me, I daresay Hogwarts would have been shut down years ago as a hazard to its young charges."

"Do you really think so, Severus." Dumbledore's mouth twitched.

"I want that damned Stone out of here. Now. Before anyone is hurt or killed."

Dumbledore contemplated the bowl of lemon drops.

"And get rid of Quirrell!" demanded Severus. "He's serving Voldemort!"

"I do think you are right."

"Then why--"

"I have my reasons."

Shaking his head, Severus turned to leave. "I honestly think, at times, you simply don't give a damn about the children. Or about anyone else," he added bitterly, shutting the door behind him.


Fifteen years. Fifteen years--a distinguished career--the sacrifices I've made--and still, I swear, he sees me as a Death Eater in the making. What do I have to do to make him see--

"Any luck, Severus?"

Severus glared.

Minerva grimaced. "I'll take that as a no."

"Ten points to--"

"Don't say it," Minerva sharply interjected.

Severus snorted. "Bloody hourglass can't take a joke."

"No," retorted Minerva. "And neither can bloody Lucius Malfoy."

"Speaking of which," Severus gave a mock bow, "if you will excuse me, Minerva, I have to attend to damage control."

Minerva arched an eyebrow.

Severus smiled, and, with a great flourish of black cloth, turned away.


"Good evening, Slytherins."

All heads turned up at his entrance into the common room.

"There's no meeting tonight," said Millicent Bulstrode.

"No," agreed Severus. "There isn't. However, I was just talking to Professor McGonagall, and she tells me that my Slytherins are doing exceptionally well in Transfiguration--as should be expected. A Slytherin strives for excellence. Always." He smiled broadly, resting his eyes upon each child. "So. I thought I'd drop by and see for myself how very accomplished you all have become."

Pansy Parkinson pushed to the front. "Watch," she said. She set a cup on the table and, with a determined set of her jaw, pointed her wand and turned it into an emerald green glass vase. She looked up smugly at Severus.

"Very good," he said. "Five points to Slytherin."

He had to exert great effort to hold back his smirk as a dozen children suddenly clamored for attention.

"Zabini." Severus nodded at the boy, who stepped forward and quietly turned a quill into a sparrow.

"Yes," mused Severus, watching the bird flutter about the common room. "Yes. I'd say that's ten points for Slytherin. Next?"

Theodore Nott turned a box of matches into a box of silver needles.

"Three more points for Slytherin. Well done."

The Bulstrode girl followed suit, turning a crocheted chain of string into a shimmering silver necklace.

"Mm." Severus pondered. "Three--no, make that five points to Slytherin," he declared. Then he looked about. "Well? Are the first years the only ones bringing glory to the House of Slytherin this term?"

A third year girl promptly Transfigured a Sickle into a silver snake pendant, which, with a wave of her wand, she affixed to the silver chain necklace.

"Three points to Slytherin," said Severus, nodding approvingly.

By the end of an hour the Slytherin common room was full of trinkets and toys and birds and butterflies and bats, along with a pack of cigarettes which, after awarding ten points for demonstrated skill, Severus confiscated.

"I trust this review has been beneficial to us all." Severus smiled, tucking the contraband into a pocket in his robes. "Those of you who need extra assistance in preparing for your Transfiguration examinations, you now know to whom you can turn. And--" He glanced over at the small cluster of boys who had remained on the periphery. "In the subject of Potions, those of you in first year would do well to look to your classmate Draco Malfoy as an exemplary model of accomplishment. Good night." And with the immensely satisfying image of a drop-jawed Draco Malfoy emblazoned upon his mind, Severus turned and let himself out of the Slytherin common room.


Next morning, Severus watched from behind a suit of armor as the students filed past the hourglasses.

"Evans favors Gryffindor," whined the Slytherins as they scowled at the small mound of rubies where previously there had been nothing.

"Evans favors Slytherin," whined the Gryffindors as they pouted at the sudden increase in an already respectable pile of emeralds.

The Slytherins looked at the Gryffindors, then looked back amongst themselves, and smirked.

"Let them have their consolation prize," sniffed Malfoy to Crabbe and Goyle. "We're still in the lead."