Chapter 1

Snape breathed deeply and didn't turn around when the students walked into his classroom. The dungeon was immediately filled with the incessant chatter of final year potion students, and he already found the idea of having to spend an hour with them repugnant. Still, it was Potter's class. Longbottom was sure to doing something ridiculous. He turned and glared at them all. Silence fell amongst them as they sat in the seats, taking out potion books and pencils to make notes with. He scanned the room and looked to see if anyone was absent...no...Thirteen pupils. Snape tutted in his mind. He couldn't penalise anyone for being late if they were all present. Even Weasley had managed to make it through the door in time, though he was still rifling through his bag for a book. Still, that was something. "Weasley," Snape called out, "when you've prepared yourself, could you do us the courtesy of handing out the Advanced Potions manuals?"

Ron looked up from his satchel with a despondent look and mumbled "Yes, Professor." Snape gave a smirk.

"Today, we're going to be investigating the effects of a successful Itching Draught." The class made faces. "Unpleasant but effective, and a particularly difficult potion to prepare. If you get it just slightly incorrect..." he paused and looked directly at Neville, who was already looking green, "the harmless itches could turn into potentially life threatening sores." He had paced the room, and reached Longbottom's table. "Of the flesh eating kind." Neville swallowed hard. "Needless to say you'll be testing each other's potions. Lucky for whoever should be fortunate enough to work with Miss Granger," he sneered, making Hermione scowl, "yet ill-fated for Longbottom's partner, I'm sure."

He returned to the front of the classroom picking up a timer. "You'll have an hour; the directions are on page..."

He stopped short on his instructions as the dungeon door opened. A tall girl, with long hair slipped in and shut the latch delicately. The sound resonated across the stone walls. The girl, conscious of fourteen pairs of eyes on her, smiled weakly and looked Snape.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she said clearly, her voice ringing as clear as the sound of the latch had been, "but I just came from Dumbledore. I'm supposed to have potions right now?" She looked at the cauldrons and back to Snape's face with a confidence dissimilar to any other student he'd seen. Snape looked at her, confused momentarily, and then nodded. "Sit down," he simply said, "Miss...?"

"Alana Cross," she said smiling whilst moving past students towards an empty seat beside Hermione, who was regarding the new arrival through wide eyes. "Professor...?"

He narrowed his eyes at her as she got her pencils and wand out. "Snape...Professor Snape," he said unsure what to make of her. "Surely the headmaster told you who was teaching you?" She shook her head, making her hair dance.

Snape recomposed himself, determined not to let this shake him off. They'd already lost time. "Well, Miss Cross, put your wand away we won't need it in here. You can partner with Granger as there's little time for me to explain the nature of today's practical with you." He paused, and looked from Potter, to Malfoy, and back to Alana. "What house are you in Miss Cross?"

"Gryffindor," she answered blandly. "I just got sorted." There was a murmur of excitement in the Gryffindor's and a groan from the rest of the class. Malfoy whispered, "Another one?" and scowled at Alana's head. She looked at everyone, and frowned slightly. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Well, Granger is also in your house as well as being an insufferable know-it-all, and even though you won't be able to partake today, you will still be expected to complete the theory...an essay on the applications of the Itching Draught throughout history." There was a groan. "Get on with the task."

Snape sat at his desk as the pupils began slicing their ingredients. His eyes fell upon the new pupil. Another Gryffindor. He had seen the righteous smiles of her fellow housemates as they welcomed her, when moments before they had been unsure. Children were so fickle. Still, she was odd, Snape admitted to himself. Now, she smiled animatedly as Granger told her something about the potion. She had tied her hair back and was cutting some rapeseed stems. There was something very different about this strange girl.

***

Alana sat down between Hermione and Ginny, the girl she had now learnt was Ron's sister. She smiled warmly at everyone, and tried to answer questions politely.

"So Alana, explain again why you're here at Hogwarts now?" asked a boy that Hermione knew.

"Well," Alana began helping herself to some of the delicious looking food that had appeared before them. "I began my wizarding education at Beaubatons; my parents worked out in France, so it made sense to enrol there. We've just moved back, and although it took a lot of string pulling, Dumbledore was happy to take me on. You're only half a term in."

"But...don't they all speak French?" Ron asked.

"No, we mostly speak in English. It's the language of the wizarding world. Although," she paused sipping her orange juice. "I can speak French."

"What electives have you done?" Hermione asked excitedly.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Runes and Transfiguration are my advanced Newts, but I'm still doing Charms and all the others." She paused again. "Not Divination though. Or Muggle Studies."

"None of us do them either," Harry said. "Hermione does Muggle studies and we all did Divination until we could drop it."

"And I'm not NEWT level," Ginny added smiling sweetly.

Alana smiled and popped a grape in her mouth. She was exhausted. She was painfully aware of not only the Gryffindor table being focused on her, but her arrival had spread like wildfire to all the other houses and the teachers themselves. Dumbledore's friendly face glanced her way a couple of times, a small dwarfish man who she was told was called Flitwick, turned to a bug like lady and said something after seeing her. Only one face did not look at her, or look at anyone, and that was the potions teacher. A strange man, she thought, when she first saw him, and now he seemed even stranger. He seemed isolated and uninterested. Alana frowned.

"What was the name of the teacher we had earlier for potions?" she asked casually.

"Snape." It was Harry who answered. His voice was hostile. "Severus Snape."

"Oh yes, I remember now," she nodded, "Is he always that...bad tempered?"

"Yes," the Gryffindors chorused.

"Oh," Alana said laughing. "I see."

Ron scoffed. "He hates teaching and students. He wants to teach DADA, even now. Dumbledore'll never give it to him though."

"He's a good potions teacher," Hermione admitted, "but he hates Gryffindors, and picks on us all the time. Poor Neville gets it the worst."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but I don't know what was up today. I think you just sort of coming in like that put him off. He doesn't like losing control, even for a little while. And when he found out you were one of us..." Ron shrugged, "well, your fate was decided."

Alana looked back at the man.

"It's a shame," Ron sighed, "I'd been really good at Potions if it weren't for that git." Everyone laughed. Hermione looked at Alana. "You'll have to try to not let him affect you. You were very good today, even without having the instructions given to you, and him throwing you in the deep end."

"It's too bad you have to do the essay though," Harry said kindly.

"I shouldn't think it'll be a problem," Alana said quietly.

***

There was a knock at the door to Snape's office later that evening.

"Draco," he said with a faint smile. "What do you want?"

"That new girl," Malfoy said looking at his nails and perching on the edge of a table. "She's from Beaubatons."

Snape continued to look at the book in his hands. "Is there a reason why you thought that would interest me Draco?"

"No professor," Malfoy said swinging his legs. "I actually came to talk about a hint for the essay. Just thought I'd mention it in passing."

Snape nodded and closed his book, placing it back on the shelf at picking another out. "So, she's a Beaubatons girl then." Malfoy nodded.

Snape sat down. "Then no doubt she'll be flirtatious, arrogant and believe that the rules apply to everyone but herself. I've known many Beaubatons girls. None were particularly grounded. Although I hear the school has turned out a few well educated women, I've yet to see one. It is a school designed to puff up a female's self image and enhance the idea she is better than she is. This certainly explains her self confidence," Snape looked at Draco. "Have you spoken to her?"

Malfoy shook his head.

"Didn't she seem...sure of herself in class?"

"I didn't think so," Draco said looking away in thought. "Not overly. Apart from being a Gryffindor, what I heard her say was alright."

"Why did she leave Beaubatons?"

"Her parents moved."

Snape put his hands together, and looked down. "I'll have to watch her I think. It may take her a while to understand the rules of Hogwarts. Beaubatons is a completely different wizarding school."

Malfoy nodded and looked at his teacher with a slight frown. "Do you think she'll cause trouble?"

Snape didn't answer and merely raised his eyebrows. Malfoy nodded thoughtfully and got up to leave.

"You might begin with looking at Berwyn the Ninth for your essay, Draco," Snape called out as he shut the dungeon door.