Hi! This story is currently compatible with the actual series of Harry Potter... And probably will be until book 7.

Anyway, REVIEW! I love them! They make my day (and who wouldn't want to make my day?)

Disclaimer: Characters not mine.


-Chapter I

"From now on you are my student alone. You will learn legilimency, occlumency, dark arts, defense against them and anything else I deem necessary. I will answer any questions honestly, and will expect the same courtesy from you."

"Yes sir." Why was she doing this? Why had she even come to see this man after she had graduated? Any other student would have gone on with life and been perfectly happy to never see the greasy git again!

"Alright. Your rooms are down the hall with alternative ways to reach the library and my rooms and lab. I will show those to you later."

"Yes sir."

"Can you say anything else or are you a parrot?"

She chose not to react. Control is your best defense. That had been the first thing he had said when she had been shown into his office.

He shook his head and walked to his desk. "You will spend today telling me exactly what you desire to learn, what you mean to do with your knowledge and why the hell you came to me."

She nodded, accepted the parchment he offered her and sat at the smaller desk in the corner.

Why had she come back?

Ginny Weasley sighed and pushed her flaming red hair out of her face, paused and tied it back. Her hair was mid chest length and wavy, looking like tongues of real fire against her black t-shirt. Her eyes were the same color as dark chocolate and always held a hint of amusement. Behind that was suspicion.

She had come back to Hogwarts nearly three years after she had graduated. The war with Voldemort had escalated since her sixth year, and more and more people she knew were dying. Ron had died the previous month. He was the second of her six siblings in following her father to the grave. Fred had died only two months before Ron.

In her seventh year, the Dark Lord had unleashed a potion of some sort in the water. It had caused a plague that no one had figured out how to cure yet. It was extremely contagious and forced the person who caught it to suffer for long months of complete incapacitation before dying a slow death.

Harry had disappeared into the blue after the death of Albus Dumbledore in her fifth year. Hermione and Ron had gone with him. When the sickness was discovered, Hermione had joined the search for a cure, at the same time helping those quarantined in the sick houses.

Her mother had caught the sickness, but had chosen to help the cure effort in her last months.

Percy and the ministry were completely useless, constantly mobbed by paperwork. The aurors had been growing more vicious, torturing the suspected Death Eaters, even using unforgivables.

No… that had nothing to do with why she had come back.

Fred and George's joke business had been going down the tubes. No one had a sense of humor anymore. Students were sheltered in their schools, held prisoner to safety. After Fred had died, George had no more ideas anyway. He had sold the shop and the patents so that the prank items could still be made, but himself had begun the extra schooling necessary for aurors.

Bill and Fleur had escaped to France where they were raising their first child. They sent what help and comfort they could, but the most that they could do was to send letters about Michelle. They made Molly Weasley happier than anything.

Charlie, Mad-eye, Lupin, Tonks, and Shacklebolt were so involved with Order business that they had no time for anything else. The Hogwarts professors spent their time protecting the students.

Professor Snape… he was now her teacher.

Why had she chosen bloody Snape? She had come back to learn to defend herself, to defend others. She had come back to prove to herself once and for all that Snape was innocent. She had come back…

She had been afraid.

Ginny Weasley, the baby of the Weasleys, constantly fighting their protection of her, had fled the sickness and horror of the outside world to the one place where she felt truly safe.

Her school.

True, she had been possessed by the Dark Lord in her first year here, but the way the school had reacted to that had only reinforced the sense of safety.

There were fewer students now. Parents, so sure that they would die tomorrow, wanted to have their last day with their family. The children didn't leave and never got schooled, but Hogwarts remained open for the ten students in each year that still came.

That didn't answer why Snape.

He had betrayed Dumbledore once. He had killed him.

So why him?

He had fled after the deed. He had disappeared for nigh a year.

Why him?

He had come back. He had faced the judgment of a world that hated him.

But she couldn't write that.

She couldn't write any of that. Who knew what kind of answer might come back?

Since the Chamber of Secrets she had feared writing anything too personal. Her professors had hated her. She had done exceptionally in the practical parts of their class and it was clear she understood the theory. But if she was asked to write something… she froze. She had always just barely scraped by on the writing portions, answering questions in big writing and very precise, non-personal phrases.

Could she write what she wanted to learn, even?

I want to be able to defend myself. I want to help the war.

I want…

She wanted so much. Could she bear to write that?

This was Snape, after all.

He was the same as he had been when she had been a student at this school. His nose was a beak, he was pale and his hair was greasy enough that it could very well have been washed with oil. He still dressed in pure black robes and still wandered the halls with his hateful sneer.

He would read her response and sneer at Gryffindor sentimentality, Gryffindor stupidity finally giving way to logic.

She didn't want to hear it.

But how could she answer his questions but still avoid them?

She glanced at her watch. 10 o'clock. Already an hour had passed and all she had for it was an ink splotch and her name.

Finally she resigned herself and dipped her quill in the ink. I want to learn to defend myself and others. It was a general answer, she decided after a minute. He would scowl, but she had answered two of his questions.

I came to Hogwarts because I have spent more time here than at home in the past ten years. It is my home.

Three down hardest one to go.

I came to you specifically-

She didn't know why.

-because I am not as Gryffindor as some.

It wasn't ideal. In fact it was far from. But it was an answer. If he wanted anything more he would need to ask her himself. And she would answer honestly, because if she didn't…


She was in the restricted section of the Hogwarts library for only the third time. She was graduated now. She didn't need a pass.

In her last year at Hogwarts she had developed a keen love for reading – philosophy, history, fiction. Nearly anything was acceptable material.

Ginny stroked one of the bindings on the shelf. It shuddered and fell into her palm. Blood.

She opened it and before too long found herself engrossed in the sickening depictions of blood magic and its uses.

If two are of like blood, then any one change worked upon one of the two, can be made to effect the second by combining their blood in a two milliliter pewter phial. When the two bloods are combined, the caster must drink…

Unbreakable vows are formed through use of magical spirit veins. It does require blood, however none is shed. The binder casts a spell to combine the essence of the participants' blood. Once this is cast, it cannot be undone and they are bound to that oath.

She was engrossed enough that she didn't notice the sky outside darkening, didn't hear the door opening, and jumped five feet in the air when a hand came to rest on her shoulder.

"Lesson number 2. Wariness." Snape's arrogant voice said in the dim light. She sighed and stood up, replacing the book on its shelf and following him out. Ginny didn't miss that his eyes lingered on the binding of Blood.

Students studied quietly in the library, but it was nothing compared to what it had been when Ginny had been at school. Two Hufflepuffs huddled together in one corner, a slim magazine on the desk between them. A Ravenclaw sat alone taking notes out of a potions book. A pair of Slytherins sat in the corner playing a quiet game of chess. A trio of blonde Gryffindors had heads bent over a book, hidden from sight. With a pang, Ginny saw the three replaced by two boys, black and red haired, and a bushy brown haired girl. She shook her head and the blondes returned, but the sadness remained.

The halls were empty and cold. She could still see torches glimmering among paintings that chatted gaily about the weather in her minds eye, but the paintings were silent now. All of them wore identical frowns no matter whether they were frescoes, portraits, or drawings.

Too much had changed. This wasn't her home anymore. None of the students that she had known were here. The castle looked like her home, but she only felt resentment and fear here now. There was no warmth or laughter.

Even how Snape walked had changed. His footsteps were more wary and hesitant. His welcome could be taken back still.

Once they reached the dungeons, his stride grew more confident. He pointed to the door next to his. "Your rooms." He said.

She nodded.

"Come."

He led her to his door and into his chambers. When they walked in, Ginny was struck by the strangeness of the situation. Who would have thought that a Weasley would ever enter the potion master's rooms?

They were very dark rooms, dark brick, dark curtains. Most of the walls were covered by bookshelves and there was one large fireplace. Two ebony doors were on opposite sides of the room.

He lit a fire with an impatient gesture and then pointed to a chair. She sat, sitting up very straight and feeling extremely uncomfortable.

"Your essay is four sentences long." He told her.

"Yeah."

"Since when has that been an essay?"

"You didn't ask decent questions."

A spasm of anger passed through his eyes. "What did you want me to ask? What's the difference between wolfsbane and monkshood?"

She smiled. That was one of the first questions any first year was ever asked.

"That wouldn't have been a very decent essay either. One sentence: they're the same."

"At least they would have answered the question. Since when has a Gryffindor dodged a question?" She shrugged. "Much less a Weasley."

"I'm not my brothers."

"Clearly." The professor snorted. She could see he meant that in more than one way. "Even so, these half answers will not suffice."

"I don't write in detail."

"You agreed to answer questions honestly."

"I said nothing dishonest."

"Nonetheless, I will need a more detailed paper before any sort of instruction can begin."

"I told you, I'm not writing anything more detailed than that. I'll answer questions honestly, but I won't write things down for anyone to read. Some things just can't be written."

"Dare I ask why?"

"You could." There was silence for a minute. "My first year… I confided far too much in paper and pen."

Snape nodded. "You wish me to verbally ask you questions?"

"Not particularly."

He scowled. "Then what do you want me to do?"

"Whatever you feel is necessary."

"So if I feel it necessary that you write down the answers to my questions…"

"We will accomplish nothing."

A very thin smile graced his features. Ginny kept her face still.

"Alright."

For a long time they were silent. Ginny studied him. His face seemed paler. His eyes were coal black as they had always been, but there was uncertainty there now.

"Why?" He asked finally. For a moment Ginny didn't react, shocked that he had broken the silence before her.

"Why did I come back?" He nodded and made a gesture telling her that the question encompassed more. She studied her nails, cleaning one with her other hand. "I have nothing left outside." She admitted. He said nothing. "My family is doomed or dead, or too far away to communicate with. Harry's disappeared." She gulped. His decision to leave her still stung. "Hermione's probably sick by now too, but she can't send me letters or talk to me at all. None of the other order member's will talk with me and I don't have any sort of job credentials to help. The ministry hasn't counted graduates since…" She stopped, seeing him glance away.

"Have you been outside the castle since you came back?" She asked him.

He shook his head.

"There are things out there… people dying on the streets, dark marks over every house. People walk in groups, whispering, crying, if they leave home at all. The sky is always dark but it never rains. Anything black or green and people start screaming." Ginny shook her head, lost in the memories. "I couldn't stay out there… not knowing that if something happened, I wouldn't be able to keep even myself safe, much less everyone else. I couldn't know that I wasn't even allowed to help fight."

"Not allowed?"

"Have you ever had eight people older than you in a family with them so afraid that something is going to happen to the baby…Then when they start to die, their protectiveness reaches such a height that you can only go outside with one of them on each side."

"I confess, I have never experienced that."

"Lucky." Ginny sighed. "No. I couldn't continue living like that."

"I can understand that at least. However…"

"Why you?" He nodded. "You're the only one I know who won't coddle me. You're the only one I know who's truly equipped to defend themselves and won't tell me that they'll protect me so I never need learn how." She paused. "And… you came back." Snape's eyes narrowed. "You did something terrible, no one, not even you deny that. But… even though you know that the majority of this world that you came back to will never forgive you and never trust you… you still came back."

"How are you so sure my master didn't command me to do so?"

"Which master?"

"Pick one."

"If Volde- the Dark Lord-" she amended seeing him flinch, "had commanded it, oh well. There's nothing we can do about it without proof. If Dumbledore had commanded it, then that would be proof enough for many people that you were a decent person." He seemed like he would interrupt, but she went on. "I think… I think you really only have one master."

"And who is that, pray tell?"

"Snape."

His angular eyebrows rose but he didn't comment.

"I see." Snape said finally breaking the heavy air. "I think… that perhaps we will begin tomorrow morning. Report here directly after the meal."

"Which meal?"

He scowled at her. "Breakfast."

She smiled softly and nodded, quickly leaving his presence. Snape had seemed very different tonight. In school he had been mean, spiteful, arrogant, and someone all too easy to loathe. He hadn't been all that bad today. His eyes had been almost warm even. The potions master had been patient and… dare she say it? Understanding…

She opened her door and was stunned to see a warmly lit brick room. The curtains were heavy red velvet embroidered with gold. A red couch stretched before a fireplace. Bookshelves lined most of the walls, along with a few portraits and scenic art. There was an armchair and a table by the couch. The mantel was bare.

One mahogany door led to a white tile bathroom with blue accents. There was a comfortably sized shower, but if she wanted a bath she'd need to use the large baths.

The other opened into a bedroom. There were more bookshelves, but the walls were bare. A large window opened onto the grounds overlooking the forbidden forest. The room was mostly light blue, the bedspread the color of the ocean. A tall mahogany armoire stood in one corner. She opened it to find her clothes already there. Her trunk was at the end of the bed, although most of her things had been removed. Her few valuables and the photographs remained cushioned on socks and pajamas.

The photo of Harry, Hermione and her family went on her bedside table. It was at the Quidditch World Cup before it had gone bad. The people in the small frame waved at her as she set it down.

The rest of her things were set up quickly, another group picture centering on the mantel.

When that was done, she changed into the flannel Gryffindor pajamas and climbed into the big fluffy bed.

She dreamed of her fourth year.


Author's Note: So... how do you like it? Let me know (with a review!).

If anyone is wondering, I will continue to hint at reasons to review my stories until Hell freezes over...