Disclaimer: I obviously do no own Harry Potter. I just like writing Severus. ;)

A/N: I wrote this one-shot, listening to Andrew Gold's "Thank you for being a friend" song. Enjoy, loves.

All was quiet in the darkened room far below Hogwarts in the dungeons. The quill that had worked hard over the years was still in the inkwell—a rare sight, waiting to be used by its owner. Also on the tabletop were books with messy handwriting that were opened and scattered in some seemingly unseen order. Numerous papers covered the rest of the top so one could not see the elegant mahogany desk. Whoever the desk belonged to clearly had been lost in research, not bothering with the simplest matters of tidying the work area before leaving.

The door suddenly swung open, banging loudly against the wall. A black-clad man stalked into the room a moment later. His sallow face seemed to hold a permanent sneer, his yellowed teeth showing. The door slammed shut behind him. Throwing his right hand up, the various torches lit up, bathing the room in a warm amber glow as he continued cutting a path to the desk.

However, at the sight of the small card on his desk, the man frowned and slowed in his gait. Who the hell had been in his office? He growled, shaking off the troubling thoughts. He snatched the card a moment later, noticing idly that it was addressed to him. His black eyes quickly read the few lines.

Congratulations on receiving the Defense position, Severus. You'll do wonderfully. The students are lucky to have someone as knowledgeable as you are and who can finally teach them proper Defense.

Just remember that it's Defense against the Dark Arts. Okay?

His jaw clenched. He would kill whoever sent that damn card to him. As if he truly needed some idiot mocking him for finally achieving his goal on top of everything else he'd be dealing with this term. When the initial anger left him, his brows furrowed. Why would someone just send him a card to mock him, though? Unless it wasn't meant to mock him, but truly was meant to congratulate him. But who in their right mind would do that? He then closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course. He sighed, the sneer quickly disappearing. Sinistra. He should have known. She'd be the only one in this damned place who'd be true in her congratulating.

Grabbing the quill from his desk, he pondered what to reply. Something that summed everything up. A moment later, he wrote in his cramped writing, contrasting her elegant cursive. Thank you for being a friend.