He strode across the room and used the hidden door in his quarters to enter his classroom. Another year and still he was here. Teaching. He hated it. He wasn't a natural teacher, he knew, with his naturally less than sunny disposition coupled with his complete inability to abide incompetence. And they were children, incompetence was almost guaranteed. However, thanks to Dumbledore and his vow, he wasn't going anywhere any time soon. He had no idea why the Headmaster insisted on pairing the lions and the snakes for his class, as if it wasn't hard enough to stop the little idiots blowing themselves up, he had to contend with House rivalry too.

His second year Gryffindor/ Slytherin class was his least favourite. Harry sodding Potter, the walking disaster that was Neville Longbottom and the know-it-all Granger. Couldn't the girl just be quiet and concentrate on her own work? Although, he mused, if she did that Longbottom would have blown them all to smithereens long before now. Maybe he could just ignore her today, focus on trying to rein in his Godson who seemed determined to catch Potter's attention in the worst ways. He was beginning to think there were feelings there given how obsessed Draco was with the boy. Hopefully, as a reward for not murdering any of the students, Minerva would consent to join him with one of her bottles of scotch. He just had to get through this class, it was his last one this week and then he could enjoy the feeling of complete bliss that only came from a decent scotch and the knowledge that he had two days free of the little sods trying to kill them all.

Opening his door with all the dramatic flair he was known for, Severus Snape stared down the students waiting outside his classroom.

"In," he commanded, waving his hand causing the door to bang shut once they were all inside the room. "Today we are brewing a heritage potion. Only the most blithering of idiots will fail to produce an acceptable potion from this brew" He began, fixing the Longbottom disaster with a look that made the boy pale. "Should you brew this correctly, and make no mistake, I expect you to brew this correctly, one drop on the parchment will reveal your family tree. Begin."

The classroom was silent save for the sounds of utensils cutting and grinding ingredients alongside cauldrons softly bubbling away, just the way he liked it. He began sweeping around the room, if he let the little idiots become complacent one of them would surely destroy themselves and the classroom. There shouldn't be anything explosive in this potion but he'd learned that children had a way of managing to produce the unexpected. It would be impressive if it wasn't so damn likely to kill them.

As the end of the class drew near, he let himself relax slightly, Granger was still hissing instructions to Longbottom but it was Friday, he couldn't bring himself to care and he sure as hell wasn't saddling himself with a detention tonight unless he absolutely had to.

"Your potion should now be almost ready to test, decant a portion into a flask and add your blood. Use the dropper to apply the potion to the parchment." He glanced around the slightly stupefied students and sighed, apparently he wasn't the only one affected by it being Friday afternoon. "NOW!" he barked, smirking slightly in satisfaction as they all jumped. The end was in sight, fifteen more minutes and he would be happily ensconced in his rooms with a glass of scotch in hand. Even if it was inferior to Minerva's, it was still a happy thought.

His head whipped around to the sound of a gasp coming from Granger's bench. He looked over to Longbottom, expecting something to be amiss but saw nothing. For God's sake, what sort of Gryffindor histrionics was this? The girl was usually more controlled than that but she was still a Gryffindor.

"Miss Granger, is there an issue with your potion?"

She shook her head frantically, eyes wide as she clutched the parchment containing her family tree to her.

He resisted the urge to sigh, holding out his hand for the parchment. "Miss Granger, do not tell me that Longbottom's inability to brew anything more complicated than tea is catching. Give me your parchment."

She shook her head again, equally as frantically as before, refusing to relinquish her grip on the parchment, ignoring the snickers of the Slytherins in the room.

"Miss Granger," his voice dropped to its most dangerous. "Give it to me. Now."

He saw her loosen her grip on instinct after a year of responding to the tone of his voice and took his chance, Accio-ing it to him. He glanced down wondering how she could possibly have fucked this one up before he felt his own eyes widening. Fuck. No. That wasn't fucking possible.

Turning abruptly, he registered that the class was still watching. "Out!" He bellowed. "Not you!" he pointed at Granger who had begun to rise, clearly intending to make her way to the door. "You stay."

He faintly registered Potter and Weasley's objection to being thrown out of his classroom; that had to be a first, but he paid them no mind, determinedly focusing on getting all of the little bastards out of the room before he had a breakdown. He'd have to come up with a reasonable explanation later, fuck knows what he'd tell them, he'd figure it out, just not now.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself back to rational before giving it up as a bad job and sending a Patronus to find Minerva. He wasn't sure but he thought that he sounded slightly hysterical. Hopefully, that was just in his head.

And really, she was the Head of the girl's house, he would be remiss if he didn't send for her; it was a completely reasonable thing to do, he reasoned, it wasn't that he was having some sort of crisis. And she was an adult, he supposed he was technically one too, although he didn't feel like one currently. He was looking for an adultier adult. One that had a sodding clue what they were doing.

He registered that the girl was pale as she sat still on one of the stools. She hadn't moved since he'd bid her to stay, her eyes wide as she tracked him pacing the room. He didn't know what to do with that. Minerva would know. Minerva the actual adult. Not him, Severus the pretend one. Fuck, he sounded insane even inside his own head.

Minerva thankfully appeared before he could descend any further into insanity. "Severus, what is going on? Your Patronus sounded most unlike you." Minerva looked at him in concern before registering Hermione still watching him pace. "Miss Granger! What are you doing here? Severus! Stop pacing and tell me what is going on this instant!"

He whirled round to face her, robes billowing behind him and thrust the parchment into her hands. Her eyes widened, darting between each of the occupants in the room before she walked over to his desk and sat down heavily on the seat. "This is….most unexpected. Miss Granger?" The girl's eyes jumped to her Head of House. "Were you aware of your adoption?"

The girl nodded, glancing at him warily. "I've always known I was adopted, my parents never hid it." She spoke softly, clearly unsure of how what she was saying would be taken.

"I assume your actual birth parents were a surprise?" Minerva asked drily, watching as the girl blanched.

"You could say that," she murmured, keeping her eyes on him.

Severus closed his eyes, fucking Elladora Fawley. Why hadn't she warned him? He didn't want to be anyone's father! He just wanted a scotch.