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It was another horrible day filled with horrible classes filled with horrible students filled with… horrible everything. Severus Snape never woke up in a good mood, not even on Saturdays; Albus always held staff meetings. The only day he ever got a break was on Sunday’s, and even then, that was the Dark Lord’s favourite day to hold his meetings. Someone or another always needed him for something.
He hated it. He also hated that Albus wouldn’t allow him to have a coffee maker in his quarters. “You’ll be too hopped up on coffee to teach properly, Severus.” The infuriating man had even smiled while saying it. It was because of this that he didn’t get his caffeine before facing his colleagues. The world was cruel.
As he stormed through the corridors toward his office, at least he had a coffee maker there, he recognized that his door was already open. He pulled his wand out, walking in cautiously.
“Whoever is so dimwitted as to break into my office before I’ve had my coffee, I’m confident your House will not be winning the Cup this year,” his face pulled into a cruel smirk.
“Sorry!” A small squeaky voice called from somewhere under his desk, “Sorry! You just weren’t at breakfast and we were worried about your wellbeing.”
Worried for his wellbeing? Who on earth would be worried for his wellbeing?
“Who’s there,” Severus asked, suddenly very suspicious.
He frowned when small Filius Flitwick, in green robes, walked out from behind the desk smiling nervously.
“I see,” remarked Severus. “Now, what were you doing looking for me under my desk?”
Filius shrugged, “People can hide in places you don’t expect them too; I had to look everywhere,” and walked out.
The caffeine was far overdue. He was too tired to be dealing with this.
He made his coffee, not that it took much work as he liked it black, and looked at the clock. There were two minutes before the first lecture of the day, because of course there was. He grabbed the fresh coffee, throwing a lid on the cup, and pushed through the door joining his classroom and office together.
After setting his things down on the desk, he struggled to remember what he had planned for the class when he heard a tentative knock on the door – he had to let the kids in. Right.
He rolled his eyes at himself and went to open the door.
“In,” he barked at whoever was, unfortunately, closest to him. He smirked to himself when he saw Neville Longbottom jump up and squeak. Yes, it was always funny.
It was third-level potions and Severus hated this specific group the most. Which was surprising, because the Weasley twins often made his eyes twitch. It was a shame too, because fifth-level – despite the fact that he hated teaching – had the best class material.
After giving the children their assignment, which was research on cauldron materials and the effects of certain ones, Severus had a second to finally sit in his chair and take a sip of his well-deserved, hard-earned coffee.
Assaulted by a horribly sweet pumpkin flavour with a hint of disgusting cinnamon, Severus choked on the drink, coughing it out rather unceremoniously. The drink, obviously spiked, splattered all over his desk and down his robes. This was not black coffee. Severus was furious.
He heard a snort from somewhere in the room and glared at the class. Everyone was staring at him, barely containing their smirks. Granger’s head was in her hands, her body convulsing in silent laughter, Draco was hiding his smirk from behind his hand, and Weasley put his head on the desk with a bang. The only person even slightly composed was, Merlin strike him, Harry bloody Potter.
Severus scowled at the class and barked, “Twenty points from every House for this show of blatant disrespect! And whoever did this should expect plenty more where that came from. Now get back to work.”
He looked down at himself, vanishing the mess and the rest of the horrible drink with a simple wave of his wand. Now he didn’t have any caffeine. He supposed that he’d be able to, however begrudgingly, survive the morning without coffee – it wasn’t like he had any other choice, really.
— — — — — — —
During lunch, he’d asked a House-elf for a cup of black coffee.
“Black coffee, Winky. I need a black coffee, do you understand?” He hissed.
“Yes, Winky do understand. Mister Snape’s black coffee. Winky be back!” With a snap she was gone.
Severus was busy scowling at the table of Gryffindors who weren’t trying to hide their smirks when Winky arrived, putting a cup of black coffee in front of him.
“Here Sir go, Winky get black coffee for Mister Snape. Goodbye,” then she was gone.
Severus allowed a small smile. His coffee was finally here. He was so exhausted.
He brought the cup up to his nose, smelling it first. He wasn’t going to fall for previous mistakes. It smelled like black coffee, sure enough.
Glancing to his left, since he sat at the end of the table, he noticed Minerva looking at him quizzically, and Filius looking rather amused. Albus, of course, had that twinkle in his eye.
Why was everyone looking at him? Surely it wasn’t that weird to sniff one’s coffee before drinking it. Although, Severus assumed he didn’t really have much knowledge of fine table manners and simply ignored his colleagues.
He sighed, closing his eyes, and took a drink of the perfect, and sure to be satisfying, black coffee.
He grimaced and promptly spit it back into his mug. The damn coffee tasted like pumpkins again! And, oh how he hated cinnamon!
Lupin, to his immediate left, looked at him with a bewilderment Severus had never seen on the man’s face before. He didn’t enjoy being the recipient of such a look. He wasn’t the one who belonged in a zoo. Jail maybe, but not a zoo. The same could not be said for Lupin.
“What are you looking at, beast?” Snape asked in a low voice before standing and walking out of the Great Hall.
What was it with his bloody coffee?
— — — — — — —
It happened again at dinner, unsurprisingly. But Severus was too utterly exhausted to react to the attention he got when he pseudo-calmly set his mug back down on the table.
Stabbing at his carrots, he felt his eyes burn with frustration. Why him? Hasn’t his life been hard enough? Was someone trying to make a point? Was someone trying to catch him off guard, lowering his defenses? Severus was starting to get quite paranoid, jumping at every noise.
Who knew coffee was his breaking point?
Before dinner ended, he received a small note from Albus.
Severus, I expect to see you at 8:30 tonight.
P.S. I am quite infatuated with Galloping Gobbers as of late.
Now Albus needed something from him too? The day was getting better and better.
— — — — — — —
Severus glared at the Gargoyle statues with disdain, “Galloping Gobbers.”
They growled at him, as was usual, but moved nonetheless for him to walk up the spiral stairs.
“Enter, Severus,” Albus called out before he’d even made it to the door. He entered, sitting down in front of the Headmaster with as much patience as he could muster with the little energy he had left.
He desperately needed to sleep.
“Severus, I do hope you’ve been having a good day. Would you like some… you’re quite partial to coffee aren’t you?” His eyes twinkled the infuriating twinkle they often did when he was up to no good.
“Yes, well, I do think I’d like tea if you could,” Severus was so done with coffee, it was never going to work. He couldn’t stomach the disgusting taste of the sweet, cinnamon, pumpkin… concoction. Yes, he disliked tea, but could stomach it much better.
“Sure, Severus. One second, then.”
Albus moved toward his teapot, which was sitting on a table near the window, and poured a generous cup. Severus, thankful to be offered caffeine that didn’t taste like pumpkin, was eager to drink it.
Accepting the cup offered to him, he took a long sip.
It.
Tasted.
Like.
That.
Blasted.
Coffee.
“THAT’S IT! I’M DONE, I’M GOING TO BED!” Severus threw the teacup against the wall – it crashed, shattering to pieces – and he walked out.
THE END.