Chapter Text
Dear Snape,
Dear Professor Snape,
Dear sir,
Dear Seve
Dear Theos Theíos,
I thought I would write you a letter for absolutely no reason at all. Coincidentally, I received a set of shrinking, concealable potions flasks for my birthday last weekend, sent to me completely anonymously. I have absolutely no idea who might have sent them, but they’re very nice and I’m very grateful.
I tried sending you a letter the other day, but it was returned unopened because I guess you weren’t at Hogwarts, so I had to get this address from Aunt Mi Professor McGonagall. She says you’ve gone home for a few weeks?
It’s funny, I didn’t even know you had a house! It’s weird to think of you living anywhere but Hogwarts. Besides, I thought you would be spending the whole summer bravely fighting man-eating spiders. Are they all dead already?
I’m just here at the Urquhart Mansion like always, taking lots of lessons on, you know, all the pureblood stuff. Some of it is really boring, but other things aren’t so bad. Miss Catherine (that’s my tutor) has been helping me learn a bunch of spells off the International Dueling Commission’s list. We started last year, but there were too many to get through in a single summer. And when I get through my lessons without making any big mistakes, she lets me fly my Firebolt in the garden, so that’s nice.
On a more serious note, have you heard anything about you know who? (No, not him, the other one. Lady You Know Who.) I saw Auror Tonks the other day and asked about it, but she wouldn’t tell me anything. Is this one of these cases where no news is good news?
Speaking of, nothing’s arrived from grandfather yet, but then, I wouldn’t expect to see anything until I arrive back at school, since I know the anti-tracking charm you performed means that his owls can’t find me here.
Anyway, I don’t want to take up too much of your time. Goodbye for now!
Sincerely yours,
Mary Elizabeth
Dear Anipsiá,
Minerva and I are going to have a talk about giving out my personal information to students without my consent when I return to the castle.
Yes, you ridiculous girl, I do have a house, and I do occasionally exist outside the context of Hogwarts. Object permanence is typically learned at an age of seven or eight months, so I am uncertain how you have apparently managed to go fourteen years without. Perhaps Miss Urquhart can add that to your lessons.
The acromantulae colony is exterminated as of last week (though to refer to them as “man-eating spiders” is a gross oversimplification). I returned to my home shortly after to avoid the inevitable overwrought blubbering when Hagrid discovers what has become of them. The Headmaster has not yet attempted to reprimand me, meaning that he either does not know or is pretending not to know what I have done. I suspect he may be privately relieved that someone else has taken the matter out of his hands, sparing his conscience the “burden” of killing the vile things.
As for “Lady You Know Who,” as you have dubbed her, there are rumors she has been sighted in Carthage, but I would not allow that to coax you into lowering your guard, as she could return to Britain at any moment.
Sincerely,
Severus Snape
P.S.: I am glad you are enjoying your new potions flasks, which I have never seen before and do not know why you mentioned in the first place.
Dear Theíos,
Please don’t blame the Professor. As I’m sure you know, I can be very persistent. Anyway, complain all you want, but if you were actually annoyed about getting a letter from me, you wouldn’t have even responded. You see? I’m wise to your tricks.
“Oversimplification” or not, I for one am glad that the school isn’t going to be overrun with man-eating spiders anytime soon! If the Headmaster won’t thank you for killing them, then I will. (And so will the centaurs, I guess.) Good job!
Other than the mass murder of acromantulae, how has your summer been? You know, I realize I don’t actually know what you even do over the summer (other than, probably, enjoy the fact that you don’t have to deal with us dunderheads for two whole months). What kind of house do you have? Is it the same one that you grew up in? I’m only asking because I recognize Cokeworth as being where my mum and Aunt Petunia grew up, so I assume that’s your hometown as well.
It must be quieter there than in the castle, which I’m sure you enjoy. Do you ever get bored? Do you still have to let Dumbledore boss you around? Somehow I can’t picture him giving you a break, even over the summer. Maybe if you fled the country or something…
To tell the truth, I’m dreadfully bored here. Catherine has not been teaching me object permanence, but she has been making me memorize a bunch of old Wizengamot precedents. I know it’s important, but some of this political stuff really puts me to sleep!
The main thing I have to look forward to is that I’m attending the Quidditch World Cup later this month! It took some convincing for Aunt Minnie to let me buy the tickets, even though it’s my money, but she’s taking Lilian, Hermione, and me! I was afraid the Professor would be too busy to go, but it turns out that she’s even more of a Quidditch fanatic than I thought, and had already intended on going even without me. (Hermione, on the other hand, doesn’t get Quidditch at all, and I’m pretty sure she only agreed to go to hang out with Lilian and I.) Will you be attending? Maybe I’ll see you there.
I’m very glad to hear that LYKW is somewhere far away. (Yes, yes, I’m not going to let my guard down. Don’t worry. We’re being very careful about the QWC trip, and I’ll have my portkey with me the whole time.) Fingers crossed that she and my grandfather (both of them) disappear to the Bermuda Triangle and we never see or hear from any of them again.
One more question before I go: When is your birthday??? I just realized I’ve never asked, even though I have gotten such lovely presents the past two years from someone who is definitely not you.
(If you don’t tell me, I will ask Aunt Minnie!)
Sincerely,
Mary Elizabeth
P.S.: Catherine says, “Tell Professor Snape hello for me, and that I hope he is having a restful summer.”
Dear Anipsiá,
Have you considered that perhaps I responded to your letter because you require supervision to make sure you are not about to run off and get yourself killed, abducted, or laid up in a muggle hospital with a broken arm as you did last year?
For example: you are attending the Quidditch World Cup? I hardly see how leaving the security of the Urquharts’ property to mingle with thousands of strange wizards, any one of whom could curse, kidnap, or simply kill you, in order to watch a bloody Quidditch match, can in any way be termed “being very careful,” regardless of the relative silence of our various enemies. Please do tell me what, exactly, Minerva and yourself are thinking. Perhaps, “Oh, I suppose I could stay in my thoroughly warded and unplottable foster home, but that would simply make Severus’s life far too easy.”
On that topic, no, I will not be attending. Do I seem like someone who would pay my hard-earned money to be surrounded by hordes of noisy, drunken idiots for hours or days on end, sleeping in a tent? I am contractually obligated to care about the success of the Slytherin Quidditch team, and the sport can certainly be interesting on occasion, but not enough to willingly endure all of that.
To answer your other questions, ridiculous as they may be:
My summer has been much the same as every summer, which is to say, marginally better than the rest of the year, when I have to deal with the idiocy of those who purport to be my students, but still containing far too much work and far too little free time, some of which is now being taken up trying to ensure that you do not get yourself killed over your obsession with Quidditch.
Yes, I inherited my father’s home when he passed. It is quite dreadful, but not worth the effort to sell and replace, given how little time I spend here.
Yes, I do continue to perform various tasks for the Headmaster over the summer, as he, like certain other people, does not refrain from imposing upon me whenever the whim strikes him. However, it is marginally more difficult for him to do so when I am away from the school, or else I would never set foot in this bloody house again.
When I am not at Hogwarts or under the old goat’s thumb, I consult at St. Mungo’s, catch up on advances in potions and the Dark Arts, pursue my own research, and so on. I do not get “bored,” as that would imply that time in which I am not obligated to do anything is a common occurrence rather than a rare luxury.
Finally, if you absolutely must know, my birthday is January 9. However, if this results in my receiving twice as many novelty coffee mugs from some anonymous pest come winter, I will make you regret it.
Sincerely,
Severus Snape
P.S.: Say hello to Miss Urquhart for me, and tell her that she has been promoted to my favorite current or former student in your shared residence, given that she never wheedled my home address out of one of my colleagues in order to send me ridiculous letters.
Dear Theíos,
Please. This is twice now that you’ve responded to my letters immediately and answered all my questions, so I know you’re not that annoyed. Actually, I’ve come to the conclusion that you are horribly bored without me around to make things interesting, and you’re secretly thrilled to hear that I am doing something idiotic (in your opinion) that you can get all worked up about. Scolding me about attending the QWC is probably the most exciting thing that’s happened to you all summer. (Other than murdering a bunch of giant spiders I guess.)
As for “what I’m thinking,” based on prior experience, I expect to be perfectly safe at the World Cup—it’s not Hogwarts, after all. Okay, but seriously, you’re the one who said I should just accept LYKW could kill me whenever and wherever she wants and get on with my life! It’s not like she or my grandfather are just going to be hanging out at the QWC waiting for me to show my face, and I’m being as careful as I can—besides the portkey, I’ll be wearing a disguise. With “thousands of strange wizards” around, no one will even know I’m there!
In any case, Aunt Minnie thinks it’s safe enough, and she’ll be with me the whole time. So if you have a problem with it, you can go argue with her instead of me. OR, if you’re really that worried about it, maybe you should change your mind and come along. It’s not too late for us to get another ticket!
While you didn’t ask me a single question in your letter, other than what I was thinking going to the QWC (answered above) and whether you seem like someone who would attend said event (which, now that I think about it, you don’t), I’ve decided to read between the lines of your letter so that you don’t have to break your grumpy misanthrope act in order to keep our conversation going. I believe that you were actually intending to say, “Mary Elizabeth, please tell me every detail of your summer, I would like nothing better than to hear about your fascinating life.”
Sure I will!
Let’s see. I’ve been writing Hermione a lot, and I’ll be visiting her in a few weeks, after the QWC. Mrs. Dr. Granger has only been encouraged by the success of her petition last year, and has been owling the Ministry on a near-daily basis with “suggestions.” Also, I think I mentioned before that they’d talked about adopting me in muggle Britain; well, I’ve agreed, so she’s started the paperwork for that as well. And this, of course, is on top of the “project” we gave her at the end of last year, which she’s been absolutely obsessed with. I’m sure you’ve seen the articles in the Prophet. Before long, I might finally be allowed to take my puppy home.
(Yes, yes, I know you hate dogs. If you’d rather I get a snake, do try and convince Aunt Minnie to make an exception for me this year. Or maybe you could just give me a snake and dare her to take it away. Just a thought.)
Hermione is about to take her O-Levels, because she is actually insane (and, as you know, had a lot of extra study time last year—you must have been so relieved to hear that the Ministry was taking away her toy). She’s worked herself up into a frenzy about how she’s going to fail even though she’s clearly more than prepared, but that’s hardly new.
Lilian is doing better, I think. She and Aerin have been getting along again, at least, and she came out for a short visit a few weeks ago. She and I are very excited for the World Cup. We’ve been reading everything we can about the two teams and writing back and forth about it. I think she’s mostly just excited to have something to take her mind off of, well, I suppose you know. She thinks Ireland is going to win, but I’ve heard Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian seeker, is amazing, and as a seeker myself, I feel like I have to support him.
Finally, there’s a mystery afoot. Aunt Minnie and Catherine are currently very concerned with my brushing up on my dancing before I return to school, and they’ve insisted I buy new dress robes even though I already have a perfectly good set. Aunt Minnie even joined us for dancing practice the other day, saying she needed to “brush up on her skills,” though I don’t know what she’s talking about—she’s way better at dancing than me! But anyway, this is all very confusing, since I won’t be allowed to attend the Festa Morgana until next year! Whenever I ask why, they just smile mysteriously and say I’ll find out when I get back to school. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?
Aunt Minnie got me thinking: can you dance? It’s hard to picture you dancing, but it’s also hard to picture you outside of the castle, and I’ve recently been informed that things happen even when I can’t see them.
Sincerely,
Mary Elizabeth
P.S.: I will tell your “anonymous pest” that you would like even more novelty mugs. Beware!!
Dear Anipsiá,
Perhaps I was incorrect about your object permanence—perhaps the truth is that you spend entirely too much time imagining what happens in your absence, to the point that you have invented an imaginary version of myself in your head: one who is putting on a “grumpy misanthrope act,” has any interest in the trivialities of your summer and deliberations on which Quidditch team you ought to support, likes dancing, and, of course, enjoys “getting all worked up” over your continued determination to fling yourself headfirst into danger.
The degree to which you delude yourself is rather concerning. Are you sure you do not have me confused with some other Severus Snape? Or perhaps you have gone mad out in the countryside. If you are looking for someone who might welcome hearing every thought which passes through your ridiculous little head, I would suggest writing to Lupin instead. Even your correspondence can only be an improvement on the company he presently keeps.
As for the Quidditch World Cup, I hardly think that a hair glamour and a portkey will be sufficient to protect you if someone there wishes you harm. I will be speaking to Minerva about this.
I must admit I was briefly tempted by the idea of presenting you with a snake in September, if only to take my revenge on her for encouraging your nonsense, both in regards to the World Cup and in giving you my home address to begin with, but I’ve come to the conclusion that your pestering cannot be rewarded. I will simply have to find some other way to pay Minerva back, perhaps involving fleas.
Yes, I do know the purpose for your dancing lessons and dress robes, and no, I will not be telling you what that purpose is. You will just have to bear the torment of waiting nearly three entire weeks to find out for yourself.
Yes, I can dance, much as I can bring myself to sit through a Quidditch match every few months in the name of House spirit. This does not mean that I seek out either activity of my own volition. In this vein, no, I still will not be joining your foolhardy expedition to the World Cup.
Yes, I do keep in touch with some of my colleagues over the summer—primarily those who, like yourself, refuse to leave me in peace.
With that, I end my letter. I would ask you to endeavor not to get yourself killed, but I suspect I would be asking too much.
Sincerely,
Severus Snape
Dear Theíos,
Your overuse of sarcasm and insults seem to me like a sign of overcompensation designed to hide the fact that my letters are definitely the highlight of your summer, and that you do wish to hear “every thought which passes through my ridiculous little head.” How sad for you that I am not falling for your ruse.
As you once again failed to ask me any non-rhetorical questions, I guess I’ll just tell you more about my summer.
Hermione says her mum’s been meeting with Lady Malfoy on a semi-regular basis. Does that terrify you? It terrifies me. (Although maybe it’s Dumbledore who should be afraid… Muahaha.) She and her parents are still in France, visiting her dad’s family, but Lilian (and Aerin and Sean) came with Catherine and I to Diagon Alley on Saturday to buy our supplies for the new school year. Lilian and Aerin and I picked out dress robes together at Peaseblossom and Puck’s.
We also ran into Morgana Yaxley there; did you know her little brother Anton is starting at Hogwarts this year? He’s dead set on Slytherin, but Morgana kept teasing him and suggesting that maybe he’d end up in Hufflepuff instead, and then he’d get all red and upset. It was very cute. I can’t believe I was that young once! It feels like forever ago.
Let’s see, what else… Every Sunday, I have to go to these incredibly boring tea parties. Like the ones Daphne Greengrass hosts at Hogwarts sometimes, if you know about those, but even worse, because some of the other girls’ older sisters or aunts show up just to walk around and make sure we’re behaving ourselves, and they’re only for the girls from Noble Houses, so even Lilian isn’t invited (much less Hermione, Ginny, or Luna). Honestly, it’s enough to make me consider breaking my arm again, since that got me out of them for a few weeks last summer. (Oh, don’t freak out, I’m kidding!)
Honestly, there’s not much more I can say. Still learning to dance. Still memorizing Wizengamot precedents. Probably doing better at the former than the latter, though that’s not saying much. I thought I had dancing down last summer, but I’m being punished for my success by being forced to try it in heels now. Aren’t you glad you’re not a witch??
I made a new friend, by the way. He’s a pretty green snake living in the woods behind the mansion, and he says his name is “Winding Through Fallen Leaves.” He is very smart and polite and says he would very much like to see a real castle, hint hint. I think he’d make a good House mascot. (Maybe he could be your snake officially, but then he’d stay in my room and I’d take care of him and bring him mice to eat? It’s not like they’d stop you from having a snake.)
No more mysterious visions this Lammas; I only saw myself living in a creepy old house with a portrait that screamed insults at me every time I came through the front door. I bet it was even worse than your house!
I hope being in Cokeworth hasn’t been too dreadful. I hope that you have been sitting in a comfortable chair in perfect silence, reading a book or a potions journal and drinking good coffee. I hope you have not been forced to see another human face for weeks on end. You see? My imagined Snape can be perfectly in character after all.
Sincerely,
Mary Elizabeth
P.S.: Which colleagues do you talk to over the summer? Is it… Professor Sinistra? (Not that there’d be any special reason for you to see her instead of any other professor haha please don’t kill me.)
Dear Anipsiá,
Sadly, it seems that your delusions have grown to a truly alarming degree. Frankly, I am worried about the damage it will do to your delicate psyche when you discover that there is, in fact, no “ruse” covering up my secret desire to hear every detail of your shopping trip. I imagine you might look rather like your “puppy” after being called a “bad dog.”
Which, incidentally, is not unlike the expression I anticipate seeing on the Headmaster’s face when he discovers the muggle parent who sent him a Howler some years ago is now actively conspiring with the leader of the Allied Dark. Perhaps I ought to send Mrs. Dr. Granger a thank you gift.
Do you know what the vision of the “creepy old house” pertained to? We should not rule out the possibility that it could somehow be of importance. Who was the portrait of? Where was the house located? Can you remember any distinctive details?
I will admit, the picture you paint of my summer is an attractive one. Would that the old goat would leave me in peace for five fuc bloody seconds.
On the topic of people who will not leave me in peace: I am not going to agree to allow you a bloody snake against school policy. If you want one so badly, you are welcome to attempt to bring it to school while remaining in compliance with Rule Two. Unfortunately, given that you have made the questionable decision of alerting myself, your Head of House, to your desire to break said school policy, I might just decide to instruct the prefects to increase the frequency of their random dormitory inspections. In the future, you might consider being more discreet.
As for your insinuations about my professional relationship with Professor Sinistra, they do not merit a response, other than to remind you of the puppies you dissected for me last autumn, and to kindly invite you to consider how easily such a procedure might be applied to a young witch who oversteps her bounds.
Sincerely,
Severus Snape
Dear Theíos,
Oh no, I’m so sorry for offending you, you mean, scary Death Eater! Please don’t chop me up and use me for potions ingredients!! I’ll be good, I promise!
…
Hahahahaha. I can’t even pretend to mean it. I’m fourteen and I’m laughing at the idea of being scared of you. How far you’ve fallen!
As for the snake, of course I would never break school policy. I can’t believe you’d suggest such a thing! I’ve learned my lesson and there is no reason at all for you to tell the prefects to search my dorm.
Don’t worry about the house!! I just asked the Powers what would happen if I moved in with… my puppy. Into his doghouse. I think the portrait was of his mum or grandmum or something. There were these stuffed house elf heads on the walls too, it was horrible. Honestly, no wonder he left.
I’m making progress on the Dress Robes Mystery with or without you, you know. So far, by polling the other girls at the tea parties, I’ve managed to determine that dress robes were added to the supply list for every student in fourth year or above. I think some of the girls already know what’s going on (Daphne and Tori Greengrass and Tabbi Diggory in particular, since their parents are on the Board), but they’re enjoying holding the knowledge over everyone’s heads too much to tell us what’s going on. But I will figure it out… Mark my words.
As for the Headmaster, I still think my “fleeing the country” idea has merit. Maybe you can fake your own death first. Just make sure to tell me where to write you, and under what assumed name. They’ll never get it out of me.
Sincerely,
Mary Elizabeth
Dear Theíos,
I know it’s not my turn to write yet, but something concerning happened, and I think it may be related to my grandfather. Not the one who sends presents, the one we haven’t seen since my first year. I’m pretty sure this is one of those things you would tell me not to write in a letter, but I don’t want to wait until we’re back at Hogwarts either.
Can we meet? You can Floo me at the Urquhart Manor at any time before Saturday afternoon, when I’ll be leaving for the Grangers’ and then the World Cup. If you can’t contact me before then, the Grangers have a Floo now too. Their address is the “Quibbler Associate’s Auxiliary Office.”
Sincerely,
Mary Elizabeth