The Burning Pen

Through the Looking Glass
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 47

All recognizable characters belong to JKR. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 47 ~ Crossing the Line

Snape’s first stop after leaving Bartleby’s office, was Gringotts bank. The Potions master had retained the lawyer’s services, since he provided a turnkey service for Albus over the years and was familiar with his holdings and investments. No need to ruin a good thing.

A squat little goblin walked into Griphook’s office.

”Sir, there is a Mr. Severus Snape here to see you,” the goblin said as Griphook closed his ledger with a sigh.

”Him again? I already told the man we couldn’t give him a loan. He’s practically a pauper. Why do these humans persist in returning to us again and again, Snipejaw? Do you think it is some kind of inbred masochistic streak?”

Snipejaw shrugged.

”I don’t know, sir, but . . . he is waiting,” the goblin replied.

”Let him wait then. Maybe he’ll go away of his own accord,” Griphook replied, opening another ledger and picking up a quill.

Snape waited three hours to see the goblin. Finally, he was escorted into the office. Griphook looked over his glasses tiredly at the dour wizard, who had a manila envelope in his hand.

”What is it, Mr. Snape?” Griphook huffed without a greeting, his voice clearly implying that he did not want to waste his time on the wizard.

Snape eyed him.

”You’re quite rude to your account holders, Mr. Griphook,” Snape purred at him.

Griphook adjusted his glasses.

”It isn’t that I’m rude to account holders, Mr. Snape. It’s just that my time is valuable, and we have already discussed your loan application. Nothing has changed. You still don’t qualify. So to talk about it further is a waste of both our times,” Griphook replied evenly.

”I see. Well, I am not here to discuss a loan, Mr. Griphook,” Snape said, sitting down in the chair in front of his desk. “I am here to discuss closing my account. I am considering transferring my funds to another institution.”

Griphook’s mouth quirked slightly. The wizard had so little money in the bank, it would make no difference at all.

”If that is what you wish to do, Mr. Snape, you are welcome to do so. I really see no need to 'discuss' it.  You could have done it with a teller  right at the counter” the goblin said as Snape slid the envelope across his desk.  Griphook picked it up, scowling. “Now, what is this you’ve handed me?”

”A list of my accounts,” Snape replied, his own lip curling a bit.

”Checking and savings, I imagine,” the goblin said a bit disparagingly, opening the envelope and drawing out the documents inside.

He read the first document and paled immediately, his sharp little eyes flicking to Snape quickly.

”It seems my resources have . . . increased,” Snape said to him softly, his black eyes glittering.

”Er . . . Mr. Snape, you were absolutely correct to come to me before you arbitrarily closed your account. Absolutely! Let’s talk about this over a few libations and cakes,” the goblin said, backpedaling quickly before calling for Snipejaw, who appeared instantly.

”Yes, sir?” the goblin said.

”Snipejaw, bring us a decanter of cognac and a few cakes and finger foods. You do like cognac, Mr. Snape? I have the very best. The very best,” Griphook said anxiously.

”I suppose a small cognac would do before I depart,” Snape replied, amusement playing over his pale features.

Griphook let out an audible sigh of relief.  If Snape closed his account, the losses to the bank would be terrible, and Griphook might be literally torn to pieces for allowing him to do so.  The goblins of Gringotts didn't believe in simple sacking for losses of this magnitude.  They were a hard lot.

”Very good. Very good. Quickly now, Snipejaw. We don’t want to keep our customer waiting,” Griphook said. Snape could see little beads of sweat forming on the goblin’s forehead. He was singing a different tune now, that was for certain.

The Potions master intended to rewrite the entire symphony.

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A very satisfied Severus Snape returned to Hogwarts. He had gotten several concessions out of the groveling goblin, including a two percent increase on his interest, which was very substantial in regards to the amount of money he had tied to the bank.

He went directly to Minerva’s office upon his return.

”Hello, Severus. Did everything go well?” she asked the wizard, who was staring at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, which was staring back at him with twinkling eyes.

”Severus? Did you hear me?” Minerva asked him, sounding concerned.

Snape blinked at her.

”Ah, yes, Headmistress. Everything went fine. The reason I am here is that I am formally handing in my resignation. This is my last year at Hogwarts,” he told her.

Minerva’s eyes went wide.

”Resigning? You’re resigning Severus? But why?” she asked him.

”It is time to move on, Minerva. I have been connected to this school for far too long. I wish to pursue other avenues now,” he said quietly.

Minerva blinked at him. Severus leaving? After all these years? The school wouldn’t be the same without him.

”Would an increase in salary convince you to stay?” she asked him.

He shook his head.

”Nothing you could offer me would convince me to stay, Minerva. With Voldemort gone, and my service as a spy over, it is time for a new lease on life. I’m a free man now and wish to enjoy my newfound liberty.”

”But what will you do? Where will you go?” she asked him. He’d always lived at Hogwarts.

”I have plans, Minerva. Don’t worry. I am more than capable of surviving outside of the castle walls,” he replied obliquely.

”You will be missed at Hogwarts, Severus,” Albus said from the painting, “but I wish you all the best in your endeavors, my boy.”

Once again, Snape stared at the portrait.

”I am sure I will do well, Headmaster,” Snape replied. “And thank you.”

Albus grinned at him.

”Well, I couldn’t take it with me,” he replied glibly as Minerva twisted in the chair to look at him with hard eyes. This was Albus’ doing.

”And I know of no wizard who deserves it more,” Albus added soberly.

Snape took a deep breath as if he were going to say something extremely difficult, but then released it.

”I will go now, Headmistress,” he said to Minerva, who frowned up at him.

”Very well, Severus,” she said with a heavy voice. She watched as the wizard departed, then turned in her chair to scowl at Albus’ painting.

”You’re the cause of me losing an excellent Potions master. Now, I’ll have to fill his position before next term,” she spat him.

”Contact Horace Slughorn. I’m sure he’d jump at the chance to teach Potions,” Albus advised her.

”He’s no Severus Snape,” she grumbled, turning back around in her chair and getting ready to draft an offer to Slughorn.

”No, there is only one Severus Snape. More’s the pity,” Albus replied softly.

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Snape spent the rest of the day in his private rooms, brooding over his plans for the future. He was a man of means now. He didn’t have to work if he didn’t want to, but an idle mind was the devil’s playground, and that deity already had covered far too much ground with the wizard. Running an apothecary shop would be rewarding as well as profitable. But, he needed to do some recon, and he wouldn’t be able to do it himself and not alert the other apothecaries that competition was afoot.

He needed to check out the most successful shops, get an idea of how they ran things, what sold best, where items were purchased wholesale and so forth. Questions would have to be asked. Snape was a rather daunting questioner, and everyone would wonder what he was up to the moment he showed more than a passing interest in their business. He didn’t want that.

Hm. He had an idea.

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Hermione snored through her Advanced History of Magic class as professor Binns wheezed on in his droning, vacuum cleaner-like voice. It didn’t get anymore exciting in later years, but he was good with marking. Like the rest of the teachers, professor Binns engaged in extra credit, but always from a voyeur standpoint. He had certain students he enjoyed watching, like Hermione, who could do a mean striptease, but usually he had his translucent nose in a history book while the students did whatever it was they’d do. Then he’d give them points and toss them out.

It took a lot of effort for the ghost to do his reading. He usually employed one of the snarling house-elves to get books, open newspapers and turn pages for him. His writing he did on ghost-parchment, which he then had sent out and transcribed so he could publish them. Professor Binns wasn’t truly that concerned about the boycott, and only joined in with the teachers to show solidarity. Yet, to be honest, they didn’t treat him very well. They virtually ignored the ghost in most circumstances. Ignoring his comments and walking through him as if he didn’t exist.

So, when he was visited by one Severus Snape, the ghost listened to what he had to say, surprised the wizard approached him.

”You want me to betray my fellow teachers and accept the extra credit list,” he asked Snape, who stood in the middle of his cob-web strewn private quarters in the dim torch-light.

The only things not covered in webbing were the books on the shelves. The chairs, sofas, floo and paintings all looked as if shrouded in gossamer. Professor Binns didn’t use any of these things, so it made no sense to keep them up. Even his students just stood, did their thing and left.

”Yes, professor. Out of all of the staff, you get the least out of extra credit as it is. If there were other options, you could have more assistance with the work that does interest you. For example, you could have a student, rather than a house-elf to handle your documents, even transcribe your work and delivering it to publishers, saving Galleons,” Snape purred at him.

Professor Binns’ eyes lit up.

”And think, you could send them to the Ministry library to do research for you, rather than wait for the books you’ve ordered to be delivered here. There are several very talented students who have excellent researching skills.”

”Hm. You make a very good point, professor Snape,” the ghost droned, bobbing over to his books and looking at them longingly. “The house-elves often damage my covers with their claws, as well as rip my newspapers, and I don’t think it’s accidental. Mean little buggers, they are.”

”Of course,” Snape said silkily, “there might be repercussions from the other teachers if you do this, professor.”

Professor Binns turned to face Snape, floating a foot off the floor, his wizened face turning rather crafty as he arched a ghostly eyebrow at the wizard.

”Posh and bother! What possible retribution can a mortal exercise on a ghost, professor? I am virtually hex-proof. True, there are some congealing spells that can temporarily slow me down, and . . . I can be exorcised, but that takes a lot more effort than any of these lazy dregs would be willing to go through, not to mention a priest. I don’t think a priest would set foot in a place like Hogwarts. Some still believe in burning witches, you know.”

Snape nodded, hiding his grin. It was clear Binns didn’t think much of his other staff members when you got down to it. Possibly, he was convinced.

”I’ll consider what you’ve said, Snape,” professor Binns told him. “More than likely, I will agree. History shows that small movements within institutions such as this one, when handled with determination and focus, usually result in change. As a historian, I must respect and follow the established trends. I will only get a jump on the rest of the staff if I do.”

”Thank you, professor. I’m sure the students will respect you for your decision,” Snape replied.

”Their respect doesn’t move me a bit, professor. But what they can do for me is quite appealing,” the ghost replied. “Good day.”

”Good day, professor,” Snape replied, exiting the tomb-like quarters and drawing in a deep breath of relatively fresh air.

He wore a slight smile as he made his way to his office.

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At lunch, the students and staff were quietly eating their meals. Professor Binns was there as he always was. He couldn’t eat, and at times it was rather torturous watching the others enjoying their food. Some of the staff even teased him indirectly, purposely exclaiming over how good their meals were.

Well, this might give them a bit of indigestion.

Professor Binns floated through the dais and down to the floor, facing the students as all the staff stopped eating to look at him. Minerva’s eyes were narrowed. She sat in a huge, high-backed throne-like chair she had purposely placed in the Great Hall to further accentuate her position of Headmistress and to make the other staff painfully aware that she was the boss. Understatement was not her forte.

”I have an announcement to make,” professor Binns wheezed.

All the students stopped eating to look at him. Professor Binns never talked to any of them outside of his classroom, so this was quite interesting.

”I would like to let you know I will be instituting use of the extra credit list in my class, with alternate options, some of which will require off-grounds travel around the wizarding world on the part of my students,” the ghost said. “Effective immediately.”

Cheers rose as Binns drifted back to the dais, and through the table to bob over his seat as his fellow staff members hissed their anger at him.

”Cuthbert, how could you betray us like that?” Sinistra said to him.

”I’ve only done what you will all soon have to do yourselves. If you were wise, you’d do it now so you can maintain some semblance of choice and dignity,” he replied dryly. “Besides, unlike you, I derive no physical pleasure from sexually engaging my students. By enacting the extra credit list, they can be of far better use. Betrayal has nothing to do with it, professor Sinistra.”

”Still, you should have stood with us,” Flitwick hissed at him

”A house divided against itself cannot stand, Filius,” Binns replied. “And you are all divided. I am not fool enough to stand beneath a crumbling foundation. I don’t have to be crushed to know I should move.”

Of course, professor Binns couldn’t be crushed, he was a ghost after all. It was an allegory.

Snape continued to eat, taking great pleasure in the students’ victory. Yes, it was happening. Hermione was smiling from ear to ear as she hugged Ron, Harry and the other Slytherins. All around the Great Hall, the students were expressing their joy, punching their fists in the air and shouting, “He is agreed!” in reference to professor Binns. Not only had he agreed to use the extra credit list, but he had gone against his fellow teachers. That made him a hero in the students’ eyes. The ghost studied the students, his eyes somewhat glassy as they hailed him. He had never been acknowledged in this manner, and was very moved.

The teachers sullenly returned to their meals as the students high-fived each other in celebration and slowly returned to their meals. Minerva said nothing about Binns’ decision.

There was nothing to say.

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A/N: Thanks for reading. For those of you who visit theburningpen . com website, it is being moved to another hosting service and there may be some downtime over the next couple of days. I almost lost it completely. Yeesh. Scary moment there. Thank goodness for readers that love the site and generously donated the $25 yearly hosting fee to cover the next year. Thanks ya’ll. See why I luvs ya? Lolol. Anyway, again, thanks for reading.

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