#hogwarts professors

Come join us in planning for the new school year!!

Ch: 1 2 3 4 5

A/n: Hey hey! I just wanted to write some more. I feel like I’ve been posting a lot lately, that might change, it might not, depending on how I feel. I’m so excited for summer and to finally be out of school for a month or two. Anyway, I feel like the pacing of this fic is a bit off but idk. I can’t help but want to write faster and with greater jumps in time b/c I’m inconsistent. This one might be a bit short. Anyway! Enjoy this chapter. :)

╔══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╗

June 31, 1991

Hogwarts: Potions Classroom

Boredly sitting one of the stiff chairs in Severus’ classroom as he sifts through his ingredients, wasn’t your idea of fun. But, being the good friend you are, and much to his dismay, you were keeping him company. With a dramatic sigh, you lean back limply into the hard backing of the chair.

Severus gives you a terribly harsh glare, “If you are so dreadfully bored, I suggest you go and clean up your own classroom before the children are set to arrive.”

In a complaining voice you begin, “They won’t come til September. Besides, if I do that, who would keep you company?”

“I am perfectly capable of doing this,” he gestures to all of the bottles of potion ingredients that are scattered on his desk and shelves, “by myself. Besides, you could help, you were decent at potions when we were in school.”

You groan as he goes back to work, but perk up at the rare compliment before going back to being limp. After a few minutes of being like a corpse, you stand and stumble over to his table. Plopping unceremoniously onto the floor as you take a box of potion ingredients with you to sort.

Severus looks down at you with a raised eyebrow, before he goes back to his own sorting process.

“You know-”

“We don’t have to talk.” He cuts you off.

You frown, setting down the bottle of Stinging Nettle that you were inspecting with a soft clack against the cold floor. You sigh dramatically before picking up another bottle of spoiled eel guts. “Where do you want me to put the bad stuff?”

“That one’s fine,” he moves to grab the bottle from you.

“It’s molding,” you argue, stretching your arm back so he cannot reach the bottle.

He snaps back, “I’ll use it.”

“You’re not a dragon, you cannot hoard ingredients like they’re treasure.”

He glares at you as if being compared was an unforgivable insult, which to him, it was. Severus never cared much for magical creatures.

“It’s spoiled so we’ll throw it out.” You say as if you have the final say.

“Give it here, I will find a way to use it.”

“Not a chance, Severus, you’ll blow yourself up using spoiled ingredients.” With that you toss it into the massive trashcan near his desk, which was empty. Based on that alone, anyone can presume that he had no intention of throwing out any of his ingredients. “Honestly, one could mistake you for a niffler or a dragon.”

“They could not.” He says, almost too proud to admit it.

“We’ll stay here all night if we must, but you are throwing out the things you don’t need. Beginning with spoiled guts.” Standing up, you drag the massive trashcan closer to his desk and start on the massive pile of bottles.

He huffs, eventually beginning to help you, but not without resistance.

❈

After many hours of being off with Severus in the potions room, ultimately missing lunch with the other professors. A few of your trusted colleagues came looking for the two of you.

“Filch, I don’t see why you’ve come along. I am the Deputy Headmistress and it is my responsibility to check on these two.” McGonagall says matter of factly to Filch, a bit annoyed at the man’s presence and the fact that he had followed her all the way to the potions room.

“Snape took my bin and I want it back,” Filch says gruffly but softens a bit as Mrs. Norris meows in agreement.

“Very well, Filch.” McGonagall says with a small yet dignified sigh. The pair makes their way down to the potions room, going down the moving staircases and winding halls. When they finally arrive and open the door to the classroom, the sight they see is rather domestic. It’s an odd yet comforting sight.

Perched in his chair, is Snape, with his head resting against the back of the chair. His cloak being used as a makeshift blanket as he sleeps soundly, for the first time in probably weeks or years based on the bags under his eyes. And next to him is you, sitting in a rather uncomfortable looking arm chair, looking at the smudged dates on bottles and vials.

McGonagall clears her throat, making you look up and finally see the two of them. “Ah, McGonagall, Mr. Filch.” You greet them in a whisper, careful not to wake Severus up from his deep slumber.

McGonagall looks back and forth between you and Snape, she says your first name in a whisper, “... is he asleep?”

“He is, what did you and Mr. Filch need?” You inquire, looking back at them with a slow blink.

McGonagall begins to speak but is cut off by Filch, “I need my bin back” he says pointing his wrinkled finger to the trashcan.

McGonagall gives him her signature glance when she’s annoyed, “And I am here to check on the two of you. You weren’t there at the staff’s luncheon.”

You rub your eyes and look around the room for a clock, only to find that Severus never put one up in his room in the first place. You think to yourself, ‘I should buy him a clock.’ You blink, looking back at McGonagall, “I hadn’t realized, I’m sorry if we worried you. And as for your trashcan, Mr. Filch, I will have it back to you once I’ve disposed of its contents.”

Filch lets out a gruff hum in approval and leave the room with a storm, Mrs. Norris meows at you and follows. You smile at the cat’s mimicking of her human companion, while Mrs. Norris was a terror for most students, you thought she was rather lovely; though, that is probably because you were a prefect and a bit of a rule follower (well sometimes you were a rule follower).

“I’m almost done with this, McGonagall, so you can assure that Severus and I are alive.”

She raises a brow at the use of Snape’s first name, “Of course, make sure you wake Mr. Snape up before dinner is served.” The small twinkle in her eye tells you that she finds this scene familiar and is reminiscing on the days when you were still her student. She is about to leave when she looks back, “Oh, and thank you for clearing up this mess, he’s been hoarding those bottles like he’s a dragon.” You and her share a smile and then she walks out of the classroom and into the hall. And with that, you toss another vial into the overfilling trashcan, finally finishing the organization process.

You take your wand out of your pocket and give it a wave, emptying the bin in a single flick. You look at all of the good bottles left on the desk and scattered on the floor and realize that you need to put it all on the shelves. You groan, leaning back into your chair and Severus lets out a soft snore.

Deciding to take a break and realizing that you were starving after accidentally skipping lunch, you decide to head down to the kitchens.

❈

After snagging a couple of plates from the kitchen, you head back to the potions classroom. You nudge the door open with your foot, as both of your hands were full, a plate for you in your right hand and one for Sev in your left. Upon reentering the room, you see Severus rubbing his eyes, waking up slowly.

You sit down in your seat and place the plates onto the table, moving bottles and vials out of the way. Severus doesn’t say anything, just eating away at one of the sandwiches you had made. You try not to chuckle as he looks a bit like a tired hamster. Distracting yourself, you eat your own assortment of snacks.

After he finishes eating, he begins to put up bottles on their respective shelves.

‘Of course he goes back to work right after waking up,’ you think to yourself, amused. When you finish your own plate you begin to help him.

A soft silence fills the room, it's not uncomfortable but you can’t help but wish he would start the conversation. Nevertheless, the two of you put up the pile of bottles and vials, and while it is far less than before, it’s still a lot.

╚══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╝

A/n: Hey! Hope you guys liked this chapter! This one was just fluff and filler but I thought it was cute. I swear I’ll write more lore soon but I just want to write some build up to elaborate more about your relationship with everyone before the Golden Trio get to Hogwarts. Let me know if you liked this chapter: any Likes, Comments, or Reposts are appreciated (and motivate me to write more!) Also let me know if you want to be in the taglist :) Write to you soon!!!!! <3

Something like "okay okay what's the stupidest possible thing to say to these children?"

"Nitwit."

"Severus, that's an insult."

"And a bloody funny one, haven't you ever said it? Nitwit. Nit. Wit. The wits of nits. The nits of wit. What would a nit of a wit look like? come to that, what does A Wit look like?"

"Alright, alright, you've made your point."

Ch: 1 2 3 4 5

A/n: another one

╔══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╗

By noon there are talks about you among the students, mostly about how relaxed you are compared to the previous teacher and that you're very lenient.

During this break for lunch you decide to head down to Hogsmead, finding the walk to be rather enjoyable. A rushing breeze brings the fleeting summer warmth your way. You make your way down the somewhat empty streets of the cozy wizard town and trek to the Three Broomsticks.

Upon entering the tavern, a rush of nostalgia hits you. From the decor, the smell and even the kind of patrons are the same as your days at Hogwarts. You take a seat near the fireplace in the back, ordering a simple lunch with a cup of pumpkin juice.

You finished eating and left the money on the table before leaving the tavern, choosing not to remain longer than necessary. If you had chosen to, you would be destined to reminisce of your school days. You once again walk along the streets, deciding to take the scenic way back to the castle. The rough gravel path led you down to the Black Lake. You look away from the glistening water as Horace, the giant squid in the lake, waves at you. Horace, who was named by a dear friend of yours -- Liz Tuttle -- has always been a favorite of yours while at Hogwarts, and he always seemed to share the sentiment.

As you notice the giant squid waving, you wave back as it’s only polite, “Hello, Horace,” you say politely as you pass. You glance at the watch on your wrist and grimace, ‘only five minutes until your next class.’ You decide to walk a bit fast, “I’m sorry, Horace, perhaps I’ll visit you another time, I gotta dash.” The giant squid gives you a small wave, one that you return with a small smile.

❈

By the time you make it to the familiar grounds that you were in with your previous classes, you find that students are already there. “Hey!” You wave at them as you go forward, you can see that many of them flinch, as if caught doing something they aren’t supposed to. “Sorry, everyone! I’m here now,” you come to a stop in front of the group, a little out of breath from the very long walk.

You slowly take a seat on the soft grass, “Lets all just relax for today, yeah.”

The group of students look at each other and then to you, sitting down slowly.

❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈

After a long day of doing practically nothing but lying in the grass and chatting with your students, it was the end of the school day.

You head inside after the hours outside, slowly walking to your classroom. As you step inside the threshold of the doorway you see a tall figure wrapped in a long black robe. “Severus, to what do I owe this visit?”

The tall man turns to face you, his eyes narrowed and brows furrowed, “Professor,” he says as if this isn’t your classroom.

“Still going on pretending we don’t know each other?” you inquire, stepping closer to him.

“You’re rather bold to come back to this castle,” he says coldly, taking a step backward to maintain the distance between the two of you.

“Am I? I would say that you are the brave one, Severus. Stop these games, didn’t you miss me?” You take another step forward, barely giving him time to respond, “And I considered us friends, how disappointing.”

He mutters and grumbles out a few noises that you can barely distinguish as your name.

“What was that?” You beckon him to speak again, very much amused by the sight of your old friend slowly warming back up. He lets out a dramatic, exasperated sigh before saying your name clearly.

“There we are, Severus, was that so hard?” you tease. He gives you a sharp glare, making you grin in response. You walk around him and take a seat at your desk. You were about to offer him to sit but you remember that there are no seats other than your own.

In a scramble, you rummage through the drawers of the desk. Your hand soon grips a rather cold and rough cluster of hard rock, upon pulling the rock out, you find moonstone. It must have been left behind by the previous professor and you are glad for it. You toss the stone in Severus’ direction, and with a wave of your wand it is transfigured into a rather comfortable looking armchair.

You gesture for Severus to take a seat as you pocket your wand, he obliges grumpily, “So what do you need, Sev?”

He stiffens at the casual use of the old nickname, “I need nothing from you.”

“Then why are you here?” You inquire, knowing that he was lying. While Severus Snape is a particularly good liar, you’ve known his tells since he was a 4th year.

╚══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╝

Ch 1 2 3 4 5

A/n: Sooooo! New Series! I’m just a girl, really. I just have so many ideas, I’ll definitely try to continue updating the stories I already have but idk. I’m a very inconsistent writer. I lowkey am using the film version of her appearance b/c i think that is where most people know her and her look is very iconic in the movies.

╔══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╗

You really did not know why you decided that this was a good idea. Going back to Hogwarts as a teacher, after going off to perform around the Wizarding World, while being an Auror. You’re definitely an overachiever, it’s not a bad thing but still…

Being a teacher was not what you originally had in mind for yourself, but when you received an owl from Dumbledore himself. The man treated you like his own granddaughter, and was offering you a position as the music professor at your alma mater. How could you refuse?

September 1st, 1990

So here you are, back on the train platform that brought you to Hogwarts in the first place. You definitely felt the nostalgia, holding your suitcase filled with the few personal items you had, you also felt a little sick. Trying not to bump into or trip on any of the small first years was harder than it seems, you don’t even remember being that small. Maybe these kids were half dwarfs or maybe goblins? Who are you to judge?

Being a 33 year old among a bunch of children and their parents was not a very good look. You had to admit it, you were panicking, ‘Please don’t trip over this child, please don’t trip over this child. I just want to go on the train, PLEASE.’ Your internal monologue was filled with panicked screaming,

When you got onto the train, you immediately went to the front, finding an empty compartment. You knew that prefects typically sat towards the front of the train, so you presumed that it would be better to sit near their section.

As you shut the compartment’s sliding door, the sound of shouting and laughing is finally muffled. After putting up your suitcase, you look out of the window, and watch all of the parents wave sweetly to their children. It’s a sweet sight; though, the crowd is a bit loud.

As you stretch your legs, you rest your head on the window. It took you a while to fall asleep, maybe it was the fact you were on a train, or going to become a teacher in a few short hours. During your slumber, you dreamt of her.

❈

That familiar patch of grass near the Black Lake, lying next to her—the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. Her mouth moved, but no words came out of it, only muffled nonsense. Oh what you’d give to hear her voice again, before the days of your story with her were over.

You could only watch her, not able to say a word. Thus, you steady your gaze to remain on her. Drinking in the vision of her, the last of your happy memories with the lovely ravenette. The sun that glinted off of her pale skin, seemed to make her glow. It’s sunny in this dream, this memory of her. Sunny as the day that she left you in that very field... She burned you terribly, yet you still ache to see her again. To see her as this memory, only in the present day. Your dearest, Narcissa Black.

❈

It seemed that you slept for quite a while, as the train came to a slow stop when you woke up. The dream made you feel a tightening pressure in your head, a pressure that went to your throat. Letting in a deep breath, and out a cough to clear your throat, you lean back into the cushion of the train bench.

You rest there for a while, maybe five minutes or more. It seemed that time moved in slow motion for a while. However, you remember that you need to go to the castle before the students do, and that seems to do the trick to get you onto your feet.

° ° ° ° ° ° °

Getting to the castle before the students was an easy feat, as it seems that they take their time before getting off the train. With your suitcase following in toe, you made it up to the large castle doors, where an older woman was waiting. She smiles, it seems that she recognizes you as well. “Ms. L/N,” the woman greets you kindly, and suddenly you feel like the new fifth year student at Hogwarts all over again. “Professor McGonagall,” you greet her with a familiar warmness, "it's been a long time since we’ve last met.”

“So, it has. Please follow me.” She gestures for you to follow her lead as she heads into the castle. Obediently, you walk by her side, eyes wandering the familiar halls. After a long while of walking, she leads you down to the staff dormitories, a place you remember distinctly was off limits to students—though, you would often come here in search of secrets during your years at Hogwarts.

“This is the faculty tower, where most of us teachers reside. Your room is on the second floor, third room on the right.” She states in a matter-of-fact manner. Nodding, you take in every word she says; you’ve always been a diligent listener, especially when it comes to McGonagall. She turns on her heel to walk away, but before she does, “Oh, and welcome back, Ms. Gaona.”

“Thank you, Professor, It is good to be back.” In which she nods, leaving you in the staff room. You head up the flight of stairs, heeding her directions to your lodging. When you open the door to the room, you are pleasantly surprised with the size of the room. It is rather spacious, and most notably devoid of personality, but you’ll take care of that soon enough.

With a wave of your wand, your suitcase is on your bed and unpacking itself. Clothes fold themselves into the warm mahogany dresser and wardrobe respectively. Your many books, quills, pens, and sheets of music stash themselves onto the dark antique desk that sits near the window—that lets in the illumination from the full moon.

Once that suitcase of yours was empty, it shut itself and promptly tucked itself away under the bed. You set your gaze on the bedding, and prompt flop down onto it. Feeling your back ease into the soft cushions, you let out a sigh. My word did your back ache, but there wasn’t much time to relax, as you had to be down to the Great Hall soon.

Sitting up slowly, you look around the room once more. Its empty walls blink back at you lazily; you click your tongue, you’ll have to fill this place over time. In the mirror that sits next to the wardrobe, you look yourself over, trying to look presentable. “Good enough,” you sigh out, straightening your clothes and the crescent moon necklace that you are wearing.

° ° ° ° ° ° °

As you are wandering down the halls, heading towards the Great Hall, you are spotted by Professor Flitwick. He walks to you, and you slow your pace to match his. “Goodday, Ms. L/N, or should I say professor now?” He inquires humorously, in which you laugh lightly. “Either one is alright, Professor, it is very nice to see you again.”

“I feel the same way, Professor, it is always wonderful to see such a talented student join us once more, and as a professor no less.” he hums out.

The both of you talk lightheartedly about how things have been at Hogwarts and of your adventures after graduating. Before you knew it, you had arrived at the Great Hall, where many of the other teachers already were, including Dumbledore.

He looks just like he did when you graduated from Hogwarts, the same kind eyes that always seem to twinkle with knowledge of something greater, and the same warm smile. The only difference is that his beard is a bit longer, though, no whiter than fresh snow.

“Ah, Professor L/N, how wonderful for you to join us.” He beams, as if seeing a close friend after a long time, opening his arms for a hug. You accept his hug with open arms of your own, he smells like lemon drops and old scrolls of paper.

The embrace ends when you both pull away, “It has been a while, Headmaster.”

Dumbledore smiles, “Yes, but not too long. Please take a seat, we will catch up during the feast.” He gestures for you to join the other teachers at the head table. You nod, sitting besides McGonagall, who smiles kindly.

Minutes pass of pure chatter with McGonagall before you feel a cold breeze brush by you. You watch a figure wrapped in a long onyx cloak ripple by; it takes a few seconds to realize that a person is under that cloak. With your gaze on the figure, you note that it is not a bat from the depths of the dungeons in the castle, but a tall pale man.

Though it has been quite some time, you still recognize the young boy beneath the man’s cold exterior. No longer is the boy that you would comfort after another horrid day of torment; no longer is there the boy that you lit a James Potter’s broom on fire during a Quidditch practice match for. In place of that boy, is Severus Snape.

You look away once you realize that you’re staring at the poor man. Just in time as well, because students began to file into the Great Hall, all of them chatting excitedly.

° ° ° ° ° ° °

After the Sorting and Feast.

Tiredly, you go up to your lodging after all of the talking and food. It seems that most of the teachers did not have the same idea, as you had not a clue as to where they were. The logical assumption was that they were all doing their own thing, preparing their classrooms, lesson plans, or monitoring the students to ensure no mischief is a foot in the empty corridors. You had already decided to go with however you felt for tomorrow’s classes. Maybe you will take your students outside to relax if the weather is nice, give them a break from first day/first day back jitters.

After you showered and prepared to go to bed, it was already 10:00 p.m. You retired to your bed, collapsing unceremoniously onto it.

╚══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╝