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May. 16th, 2006 06:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tree_and_leafI have commited fan-fic, again. it's a little odd, though I wouldn't say it was crack.
Summary: So why does Snape wear a cassock?
Disclaimer: This isn’t mine, it’s JKR’s, drawing its inspiration from a movieverse idea. I’ve never understood why the directors put Snape in a cassock (unless they think it’s OMG!Gothick!), and given that Harry comments on Malfoy’s dress robes making him ‘look like a vicar’, I’d think he’d have had something to say about Snape wearing what really is clerical garb. That said, thinking about this did spawn this rather strange plot bunny… I’m not sure if the names of the people behind Nimbus was established in QTA – the Lexicon didn’t help, so I’ve allowed myself to assume it was founded by some bright young things fresh out of Hogwarts, somewhat lacking in funds and family connections.
ETA: Fixed some punctaution problems and some infelicities. Forgot to say, concrit welcome, and thanks for the reviews so far!
“Albus! I- I never heard such a suggestion. Surely you can’t be serious!” Septima Vector sounded uncharacteristically shocked. Dumbledore merely raised an eyebrow.
It was the first staff meeting of the academic year, a few weeks before term started; Albus Dumbledore’s first as headmaster of Hogwarts.
“Ridiculous idea” Horace Slughorn muttered into his moustache. “Now, look here, Albus, old chap, I know a new headmaster has to make his mark on the school, but to do this – strike at a thousand years of tradition…” Most of the heads around the table were nodding.
“Calm yourself, Horace,” said Dumbledore. “I haven’t suggested abolishing the house system – though I do sometimes wonder if it might not be a bad thing –”
At that, even Minerva MacGonnagall, who was usually a staunch supporter of Dumbledore, could be heard to make a small sound like an angry cat.
“But I haven’t suggested it, nor would I venture to. This is a relatively minor matter, Horace, and I’m not proposing to make it compulsory. But you exaggerate, surely? It was always my understanding that the tradition only goes back to the mid-sixteenth century.”
“That isn’t the part that worries me” said Vector, crisply.
“No, Septima?”
“What concerns me is the effect such a change will have on our pupils. Learning has always depended on the respect which pupils have for their teachers. And if you remove the outward sign of their dignity and office, then it can’t fail to affect how they are perceived.”
“If you are suggesting that classroom discipline is upheld by a piece of cloth,” began McGonagall, but Dumbledore cut her off with a raised hand.
“If I may, Minerva?” She nodded. “Indeed, Septima, students must give respect where it is due. However, I do firmly believe that it is crucial that they learn to recognise where it is due. And I would not have them believe that adults are infallible, purely because they have authority. Let us be respected, yes, but respected for our own wisdom. We are not different beings to children, or to the rest of the wizarding world, nor should we pretend to be.”
“You’re forgetting that we do have a special role,” said Slughorn. “We do guide and form our pupils, don’t we? Each of us does, in our own way. We are in a special position of responsibility and trust: and when we teach, we aren’t just functioning in a private capacity, but with the full weight of authority as a scholar and educator. I do think that it’s a mistake to pretend equality exists where it doesn’t. You aren’t preparing pupils for the future that way – it’s just preparing them for frustration. We live in a meritocracy, more or less, and I for one don’t intend to start apologising for that.”
“That’s why you ask children with famous or well-born relatives to your socials, is it?” asked Minerva, drily.
“I like to think,” said Slughorn, unconcernedly, “that I can make mutually beneficial connections between my –ah – exceptional students. And I’m sure everyone present here will agree that there are all sorts of ways to be exceptional. Would young Fletcher and Hunt have got the backing to set up Nimbus Brooms if it hadn’t been for the fact that they met Hezekial Smith at one of my parties? But it looks like they’re going to make a damn good go of it. And my contacts helped Anne Macintyre set up Transfiguration Quarterly, which is hardly a proposition that would interest most commercial publishers. But we all know what a wonderful journal it’s turned out to be.”
McGonagall looked slightly mollified: Anne Macintyre, a Muggleborn with an exceptionally sharp analytical mind and a natural flair for Transfiguration, had been one of her favourite pupils.
“That’s rather off the point,” Vector cut in. “What do you think, Pomona?”
“Oh come on, Septima, you know I teach in work robes. I can’t say I care much one way or the other, for myself. I mean, tradition’s important, but if it really matters so much to the headmaster…”
“Personally,” began McGonagall in her most incisive tones, “I agree with Albus. It’s just not fitting anymore. Hogwarts hasn’t been even a quasi-monastic establishment for getting on for three hundred years, and since none of us are priests or performing liturgical functions when we’re teaching... and Horace, I know you’re about to say something about the sacred vocation of teaching, but you know fine well it’s not the same thing at all. I must say I am a little surprised by your attitude, Septima, a good Catholic girl like you shouldn’t need lessons in the respect due to the clergy from a schismatic like myself.”
Vector looked slightly sheepish, and murmured something about “Not as if we wore dog-collars.”
“What do you think, Filius, you’ve been very quiet?” Slughorn asked hopefully.
“Frankly, I have trouble seeing it as a point of principle, but I’d just as soon get rid of them. Terribly unflattering objects.”
Slughorn sighed. “Oh very well Albus. But the Governors won’t like it.”
“That’s their prerogative, but I don’t imagine they will try to stop me. After all, I’m not banning the wretched things. Just giving people a choice.”
Slughorn snorted. “Oh come, Albus. We all know it’s an all or nothing thing. One a few of us stop – and I take it that you and Minerva and Filius are giving up the tradition – we all know it will go. Still – perhaps one day your successor will see fit to replace it. Though I suspect an old man like me won’t live to see the back of you, headmaster…”
***
“Merlin, this place is going to the dogs!” Lucius Malfoy muttered as strode into the Slytherin common room at the end of the first day. “No respect for tradition, no sense of decency – they might as well start wearing Muggle clothing. I’m sure Dumbledore would like that, disgusting old Muggle-lover that he is. I’m so glad I’m leaving next year.”
“I couldn’t believe the rumours,” Bellatrix said darkly, “Though I suppose I should have expected it. Well, one day some people will clean up round here, and not too soon – what do you want, firstie?”
She turned her intimidating stare on a thin, pale child with rather dirty-looking dark hair and an oversized nose, who stammered “I was just wondering – why you’re upset about them not wearing – well, Muggle vicars wear them too, you know.”
“I suppose one couldn’t expect a subtle understanding from a – half-blood,” said Bella coldly. “But you had better smarten up your ideas a bit, and learn not to expose your ignorance, or you could find your time here most unpleasant. Here – Cissy” She beckoned to her younger sister, as blonde as she was dark, and, at least to Severus' eyes, somewhat kinder looking. “Take this child into a corner and give him a few lessons about power and rank and symbols, will you?”
“My name is Severus Snape” said Severus, defiantly, lifting his eyes to Bella’s for the first time, and holding their gaze for a few tense moments.
Lucius, who often privately thought that Bella could give hooded cobra pointers on unpleasant stares, was surprised the child could manage it, and Bella looked unwillingly impressed. “Hm. Perhaps you’re not as boring as I thought, Snape. You might be all right. Just - make sure you don’t forget your place in life.”
***
“One more thing, headmaster,” said Snape brusquely, scrawling a signature on the contract as potions master, “I assume it will be acceptable if I teach in a cassock, in the old style?”
“I hardly think that’s either necessary or appropriate, Severus” said Albus, mildly, but Snape refused to take the hint.
“Headmaster. I am quite aware of what you have done for me. And equally, I am aware of what people in certain – quarters, or their children for that matter, think of me. Perhaps rightly. But I know the respect that is due to a potions master of this school, and I intend to see it is given to the potions master. Whatever they think of Severus Snape.”
“Oh very well,” sighed Dumbledore. “The option was always open. But it I may say so, Severus, I think you’re going the wrong way about winning respect.”
“When has anyone ever refused to hear anything you have to say, headmaster?” said Snape, waspishly.
“Children do it all the time, Severus. And not just children either…”
***
“Oh dear, Fawkes,” said Dumbledore sadly, after Snape had gone. “And I bet he’ll wear it out of the classroom, too. He always did want to hide what he truly was. Or hide from it, perhaps.”
Fawkes gave Dumbledore a piercing look. “I could have stopped him?” Dumbledore looked weary. “Yes, I could have. And it would have done no good at all. He’d only have found some other mask to wear. At least this is better than the last one.”
Summary: So why does Snape wear a cassock?
Disclaimer: This isn’t mine, it’s JKR’s, drawing its inspiration from a movieverse idea. I’ve never understood why the directors put Snape in a cassock (unless they think it’s OMG!Gothick!), and given that Harry comments on Malfoy’s dress robes making him ‘look like a vicar’, I’d think he’d have had something to say about Snape wearing what really is clerical garb. That said, thinking about this did spawn this rather strange plot bunny… I’m not sure if the names of the people behind Nimbus was established in QTA – the Lexicon didn’t help, so I’ve allowed myself to assume it was founded by some bright young things fresh out of Hogwarts, somewhat lacking in funds and family connections.
ETA: Fixed some punctaution problems and some infelicities. Forgot to say, concrit welcome, and thanks for the reviews so far!
“Albus! I- I never heard such a suggestion. Surely you can’t be serious!” Septima Vector sounded uncharacteristically shocked. Dumbledore merely raised an eyebrow.
It was the first staff meeting of the academic year, a few weeks before term started; Albus Dumbledore’s first as headmaster of Hogwarts.
“Ridiculous idea” Horace Slughorn muttered into his moustache. “Now, look here, Albus, old chap, I know a new headmaster has to make his mark on the school, but to do this – strike at a thousand years of tradition…” Most of the heads around the table were nodding.
“Calm yourself, Horace,” said Dumbledore. “I haven’t suggested abolishing the house system – though I do sometimes wonder if it might not be a bad thing –”
At that, even Minerva MacGonnagall, who was usually a staunch supporter of Dumbledore, could be heard to make a small sound like an angry cat.
“But I haven’t suggested it, nor would I venture to. This is a relatively minor matter, Horace, and I’m not proposing to make it compulsory. But you exaggerate, surely? It was always my understanding that the tradition only goes back to the mid-sixteenth century.”
“That isn’t the part that worries me” said Vector, crisply.
“No, Septima?”
“What concerns me is the effect such a change will have on our pupils. Learning has always depended on the respect which pupils have for their teachers. And if you remove the outward sign of their dignity and office, then it can’t fail to affect how they are perceived.”
“If you are suggesting that classroom discipline is upheld by a piece of cloth,” began McGonagall, but Dumbledore cut her off with a raised hand.
“If I may, Minerva?” She nodded. “Indeed, Septima, students must give respect where it is due. However, I do firmly believe that it is crucial that they learn to recognise where it is due. And I would not have them believe that adults are infallible, purely because they have authority. Let us be respected, yes, but respected for our own wisdom. We are not different beings to children, or to the rest of the wizarding world, nor should we pretend to be.”
“You’re forgetting that we do have a special role,” said Slughorn. “We do guide and form our pupils, don’t we? Each of us does, in our own way. We are in a special position of responsibility and trust: and when we teach, we aren’t just functioning in a private capacity, but with the full weight of authority as a scholar and educator. I do think that it’s a mistake to pretend equality exists where it doesn’t. You aren’t preparing pupils for the future that way – it’s just preparing them for frustration. We live in a meritocracy, more or less, and I for one don’t intend to start apologising for that.”
“That’s why you ask children with famous or well-born relatives to your socials, is it?” asked Minerva, drily.
“I like to think,” said Slughorn, unconcernedly, “that I can make mutually beneficial connections between my –ah – exceptional students. And I’m sure everyone present here will agree that there are all sorts of ways to be exceptional. Would young Fletcher and Hunt have got the backing to set up Nimbus Brooms if it hadn’t been for the fact that they met Hezekial Smith at one of my parties? But it looks like they’re going to make a damn good go of it. And my contacts helped Anne Macintyre set up Transfiguration Quarterly, which is hardly a proposition that would interest most commercial publishers. But we all know what a wonderful journal it’s turned out to be.”
McGonagall looked slightly mollified: Anne Macintyre, a Muggleborn with an exceptionally sharp analytical mind and a natural flair for Transfiguration, had been one of her favourite pupils.
“That’s rather off the point,” Vector cut in. “What do you think, Pomona?”
“Oh come on, Septima, you know I teach in work robes. I can’t say I care much one way or the other, for myself. I mean, tradition’s important, but if it really matters so much to the headmaster…”
“Personally,” began McGonagall in her most incisive tones, “I agree with Albus. It’s just not fitting anymore. Hogwarts hasn’t been even a quasi-monastic establishment for getting on for three hundred years, and since none of us are priests or performing liturgical functions when we’re teaching... and Horace, I know you’re about to say something about the sacred vocation of teaching, but you know fine well it’s not the same thing at all. I must say I am a little surprised by your attitude, Septima, a good Catholic girl like you shouldn’t need lessons in the respect due to the clergy from a schismatic like myself.”
Vector looked slightly sheepish, and murmured something about “Not as if we wore dog-collars.”
“What do you think, Filius, you’ve been very quiet?” Slughorn asked hopefully.
“Frankly, I have trouble seeing it as a point of principle, but I’d just as soon get rid of them. Terribly unflattering objects.”
Slughorn sighed. “Oh very well Albus. But the Governors won’t like it.”
“That’s their prerogative, but I don’t imagine they will try to stop me. After all, I’m not banning the wretched things. Just giving people a choice.”
Slughorn snorted. “Oh come, Albus. We all know it’s an all or nothing thing. One a few of us stop – and I take it that you and Minerva and Filius are giving up the tradition – we all know it will go. Still – perhaps one day your successor will see fit to replace it. Though I suspect an old man like me won’t live to see the back of you, headmaster…”
***
“Merlin, this place is going to the dogs!” Lucius Malfoy muttered as strode into the Slytherin common room at the end of the first day. “No respect for tradition, no sense of decency – they might as well start wearing Muggle clothing. I’m sure Dumbledore would like that, disgusting old Muggle-lover that he is. I’m so glad I’m leaving next year.”
“I couldn’t believe the rumours,” Bellatrix said darkly, “Though I suppose I should have expected it. Well, one day some people will clean up round here, and not too soon – what do you want, firstie?”
She turned her intimidating stare on a thin, pale child with rather dirty-looking dark hair and an oversized nose, who stammered “I was just wondering – why you’re upset about them not wearing – well, Muggle vicars wear them too, you know.”
“I suppose one couldn’t expect a subtle understanding from a – half-blood,” said Bella coldly. “But you had better smarten up your ideas a bit, and learn not to expose your ignorance, or you could find your time here most unpleasant. Here – Cissy” She beckoned to her younger sister, as blonde as she was dark, and, at least to Severus' eyes, somewhat kinder looking. “Take this child into a corner and give him a few lessons about power and rank and symbols, will you?”
“My name is Severus Snape” said Severus, defiantly, lifting his eyes to Bella’s for the first time, and holding their gaze for a few tense moments.
Lucius, who often privately thought that Bella could give hooded cobra pointers on unpleasant stares, was surprised the child could manage it, and Bella looked unwillingly impressed. “Hm. Perhaps you’re not as boring as I thought, Snape. You might be all right. Just - make sure you don’t forget your place in life.”
***
“One more thing, headmaster,” said Snape brusquely, scrawling a signature on the contract as potions master, “I assume it will be acceptable if I teach in a cassock, in the old style?”
“I hardly think that’s either necessary or appropriate, Severus” said Albus, mildly, but Snape refused to take the hint.
“Headmaster. I am quite aware of what you have done for me. And equally, I am aware of what people in certain – quarters, or their children for that matter, think of me. Perhaps rightly. But I know the respect that is due to a potions master of this school, and I intend to see it is given to the potions master. Whatever they think of Severus Snape.”
“Oh very well,” sighed Dumbledore. “The option was always open. But it I may say so, Severus, I think you’re going the wrong way about winning respect.”
“When has anyone ever refused to hear anything you have to say, headmaster?” said Snape, waspishly.
“Children do it all the time, Severus. And not just children either…”
***
“Oh dear, Fawkes,” said Dumbledore sadly, after Snape had gone. “And I bet he’ll wear it out of the classroom, too. He always did want to hide what he truly was. Or hide from it, perhaps.”
Fawkes gave Dumbledore a piercing look. “I could have stopped him?” Dumbledore looked weary. “Yes, I could have. And it would have done no good at all. He’d only have found some other mask to wear. At least this is better than the last one.”
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Oh, brill.
Date: 2006-05-16 06:39 pm (UTC)Re: Oh, brill.
Date: 2006-05-17 02:41 pm (UTC)Glad you enjoyed.