Severus sighed and brushed his hair out of his eyes as he really tried to concentrate on writing his lesson plan. It was his first day of teaching Potions, he tried to remind himself, and if he didn't have a good lesson, he'd restart that dreadful cycle of mockery again. Some smart-mouth like James would turn up and make his life yet another living hell, as if it already wasn't. Dumbledore had failed to save Lily, and now he'd stuck him with the menial task of teaching potions to the thick-skulled students of Hogwarts. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy potions, but he dreaded to see how this batch of students would despoil it. His former classmates had already shown him how the disturbingly stupid majority could destroy a perfectly simple potion. Defense Against the Dark Arts was much more foolproof.
Severus also didn't understand why Professor Dumbledore had decided to hire him today, of all days, on the first of November. It was the middle of the term, and more importantly, the day right after Lily had been killed.
He shut his book loudly, staring down at its cover for some time. How could Lily be dead? It was his fault. If he hadn't told the Dark Lord about the prophecy that Dumbledore's pet phony had told, the Dark Lord never would've suspected that Lily's son had any significance, and Lily would still be alive. But it was also Black's fault—he was their secret-keeper, and he had betrayed Lily. Severus didn't understand, since Black had always seemed the least likely to ever sympathize with the Dark Lord, but he still vowed that if he ever saw Black again, he'd kill him.
Somewhere across the courtyard, the clock tower told him that it was now time for his first class—seventh year's advanced potions with both Slytherin and Gryffindor. Wouldn't they be in for a nasty surprise when old Slughorn was gone, replaced by a Death Eater? Severus allowed himself a wry smile.
He stood up from his desk and walked stiffly into the Potions classroom. He hadn't slept at all the night before—the news of Lily's death had taken him all the way to Godric's Hollow. He had first seen James lying on the floor, glasses askew and with all of the life drained from his face. When Severus felt a pang of grief, he'd been shocked, but he soon realized that he wasn't upset at James's death, but at what it meant—that the rumors were true, and that Lily was also dead. Once that was cleared up, Severus had noticed that Potter even looked arrogant in death, as if to say, "So what, I'm dead? At least I got to die with Evans. She and I went to our graves together, and where are you? Alone, Snivellus." Severus felt envious of Potter, combined with his hate. To die with Lily was worth a thousand lifetimes without her.
The onslaught of seventh years into the dark dungeon classroom shook Severus from his thoughts. He was amused, watching the different reactions that his students had. The Slytherins seemed to be the only ones to notice that Slughorn had been replaced. Perhaps, to the Gryffindors, all former Slytherins looked the same.
Severus had left his lesson plan in his office, since he hadn't written anything inside. Instead, he turned to the blackboard and began scrawling his name and the day's lesson in neat chalky cursive while the students whispered amongst themselves. Some of them, he overheard, remembered Severus as that greasy-haired bookworm that had attended Hogwarts several years before. Some even remembered that he had been a Death Eater, and asked each other why he was in their Potions classroom, instead of in Azkaban.
Finally, a burly Gryffindor spoke up. "Where's Slughorn?"
Severus turned slowly to face his class, with a sinister look that dared anyone to speak out of turn again. "I do not appreciate interruptions in my classroom. Five points from Gryffindor."
"Hey, you can't do that! Why are you here, anyway?" Called another indignant Gryffindor.
"Where's Slughorn?"
Severus twirled his wand and a wave of forced silence swept over the classroom. He scanned the students carefully, and paused on a thin, auburn-haired Gryffindor girl with bloodshot eyes that ripped his heart in half—Lily's eyes. He tore himself away from the girl and picked up the roster of students, reading their names slowly and icily. When he reached the letter E, he stopped dead and stared at the weeping girl. "Evans," he whispered. "Evans, Rosemary?"
"Rosie, snap out of it," hissed a girl who sat beside her. Rosemary looked evenly at Severus. He remembered her, he realized, though only dimly. Severus hadn't seen much of the Evans family, save Lily and her horrid older sister Petunia.
"Sorry, Professor," she said. "Present."
Severus clenched his jaw. Of course she was Lily's sister—they were practically identical, though Rosemary was slighter and her hair was a bit darker. He checked her name off with a careful stroke of his quill, and read the rest of the names without really looking at them. His attention was trained on Rosemary, and he noticed that she didn't take her eyes off of him, either.
"I'm afraid that Professor Slughorn has taken an early retirement, Mr. Jones," said Severus to the burly Gryffindor boy, who Severus noticed with some distaste, was eyeing Rosemary inappropriately. "Do not take liberties with me, as I assure you that I am much less lenient than Professor Slughorn."
The class stared at Severus with a blank, glassy look. Rosemary, however, had her eyes trained attentively, as if taking in every detail. Severus felt a little uncomfortable under her gaze, which looked hauntingly like Lily's.
Throughout the week, Severus taught the unruly and hopeless students of Hogwarts and thought far too much about Miss Rosemary Evans. The weekend passed, and when Tuesday finally came, Severus found himself anxiously anticipating his seventh years. But when he called roll, nobody answered for Rosemary.
"Where are Miss Evans and Mr. Jones?" Severus asked. Some of the Gryffindors snickered, and Severus realized that he didn't want to know why. Instead, he tried to continue with the lesson without brooding over Rosemary's absence, but he was in a famously foul mood.
On Wednesday, first year Bill Weasley set the dungeon on fire, earning a month's detention from Severus. When Thursday dawned and the seventh years were due in five minutes, he scolded himself for anticipating Rosemary, even though he knew she was bad for his mental health. He tried to convince himself that she wouldn't be in class, but once again, he predicted wrong.
Rosemary slouched in her seat and stared straight ahead, looking just as depressed as she had the other day, except her eyes weren't bloodshot. Mr. Jones tried and failed to get her attention throughout the class by throwing paper balls at the back of her head. Severus ended up giving him detention.
"Miss Evans, please sit up," he said as the class started. Rosemary grudgingly obeyed. Severus sighed and held up a small bottle of a viscous black liquid that emitted a faint wisp of blue smoke. "Mr. Jones, your parchment is for writing on, not throwing at Miss Evans's head. Do you know what this vial contains?"
Mr. Jones didn't try to guess. "No, professor."
"Your intelligence becomes you, Mr. Jones. If you had been in class on Tuesday, you would have read the assigned chapters and known that this is a substance known as Wolfsbane Potion. Can anyone tell me what the effects of a properly brewed Wolfsbane Potion are?"
Rosemary raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss Evans?"
"It's for werewolves, professor. Consuming the potion allows a person infected with lycanthropy to remain more or less themselves during the full moon, though it's not a cure."
"Correct, Miss Evans," said Severus. "Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four. I want each of you to prepare a viable cauldron of Wolfsbane Potion by the end of class."
"But Professor!" Said a Slytherin girl named Persephone Burke, "That's an advanced potion!"
"And this is an advanced potions class, Miss Burke. If you don't believe you have the capacity to brew the potions I assign, I suggest you sign up for something a little less rigorous. Divination, perhaps."
Persephone blushed. "N-no, Professor, I was only saying…"
"Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four."
There was a lot of moaning about not being able to find the page. Within minutes, he heard pages swish and books thunk against desks before the bittersweet aroma of conjured fire and simmering Wolfsbane brew filled the room. Severus paced between the rows, scrutinizing potions that were already doomed to fail, and stopped beside Rosemary.
"Miss Evans, you are aware that the lavender isn't added until after the frog kidneys?
"I've already finished that, Professor," she stared around at her classmates. "I was already on the page while they were drooling on their desks."
"Of course," said Severus, smirking. He sighed and continued his rounds—Mr. Jones set his hair on fire (Severus thought this was divine justice), and Miss Burke had added too many wasp larvae and filled the room with the sharp odor of rotten broccoli. Severus vowed to raise the NEWT standards so that idiots like this lot wouldn't ruin his life. He wondered what Slughorn had been thinking.
By the end of class, the only student who had brewed a potion even remotely like Wolfsbane was Rosemary. "Miss Evans, please see me after class."
Rosemary stopped packing her things. "But I have History of Magic."
"Professor Binns has enlightened me that today's lecture is a special on the downfall of the Dark Lord," said Severus, smiling dryly at Rosemary. "While ordinarily a fascinating subject, I'm sure you wouldn't regret missing it."
Once the other students had finished jeering at Rosemary that she'd gotten in trouble and gone on their way, Rosemary followed Severus into his office and took a seat in front of his desk. He looked into her green eyes, wondering what he could possibly have to say. He hadn't really thought about it, just that he wanted to talk in private.
"You're talented with potions, Miss Evans," said Severus. Rosemary shrugged.
"I guess so," she said. There was a long period of an extremely uncomfortable silence.
"Your sister was Lily Evans, am I correct?"
Rosemary visibly clammed up, and nodded stiffly.
"You must be quite upset about her death."
"Naturally," she said; her voice had gone hard. "But she's a hero, I guess, so I shouldn't be too sad. If she hadn't died, You-Know-Who would probably kill everyone else who's like me."
"Muggle-born," said Severus gently.
"Yeah," said Rosemary. Severus watched her closely, and she returned his stare almost defiantly. "You look familiar."
"I went to Hogwarts just a few years ago. I think you would've been a fourth year. Perhaps third."
Rosemary shook her head. "No, I mean before that. Did you know Lily?"
"When we were children," Severus specified. "I lived near you."
"Oh, I think I remember you," she said, smirking a little. "She didn't talk about you much, though."
Severus clenched his teeth. "Were the two of you close?" He asked the protocol questions, turning a potentially personal conversation platonic.
"Yeah, until she married Potter." Rosemary said his name with hard-lined scorn that gave Severus a little jolt of relief. At least someone was immune to Potter.
"Did you like Potter at all?"
Rosemary shook her head. "Well, at first he was kind of charming, but he was so arrogant. And he picked on me," she said shyly.
Severus sympathized with Lily's little sister, but felt that he needed to point something out. "Mr. Jones is quite a bit like him, Miss Evans."
She blushed. "I don't like Matt, Professor. He is a lot like James, and he talks about him all the time. It's like he idolizes him."
"You were with him on Tuesday, weren't you?"
Surprisingly, Rosemary didn't blush this time. "I lost my sister, Professor. Isn't that a normal reaction?"
Severus sighed deeply and looked at Rosemary, her green eyes bright with tears, though she didn't cry.
"Professor, if that's all, I'll be going." She headed toward the door.
"Miss Evans," said Severus, and she stopped and looked at him. "Feel free to return to your common room for the remainder of the day. I'll speak with your other professors."
Rosemary smiled. "Thank you. I might need it."
That night at dinner, Severus caught himself staring over at the Gryffindor table more than he thought was acceptable, watching Rosemary silently eat. Mr. Jones was trying to talk to her, Severus noticed, but she didn't pay him any heed.
"Severus, how have you been doing with your new post?" Said Dumbledore from his right. They'd spoken throughout the week, but Dumbledore hadn't made small talk. It was always about the boy.
Severus tore his eyes from Rosemary and said, "Poorly. I don't know how you've done it, Professor, but this batch of students is even simpler than my former classmates." With the notable exception of Rosemary, but he wasn't sure if Dumbledore would accept his fondness for Lily's sister. He didn't want to test his luck.
Dumbledore smiled at him. "I knew you'd adjust well. Horace greatly appreciates the early retirement, you know. Voldemort's followers had him under quite a lot of stress, and I can imagine he wants some time to himself."
"My pleasure," said Severus. He cursed himself as he caught his eyes wandering back to the Gryffindor table. This time, though, he saw that Rosemary was staring at him.
On Tuesday, Slughorn had planned for the students to brew love potions, but Severus was uncomfortable with the idea and instead started the students on their term project, as it would take a month. Each was to brew a Polyjuice Potion, completed by the holiday, and in order to get full marks, they had to successfully transform themselves into another classmate. Madam Pomfrey would be standing by for the inevitable accidents.
"As you've all been told, Polyjuice Potion is strictly against the rules except for classroom purposes," said Severus. "When ingested, you will remain here until the effects have worn off. Understood? Open your books to page six hundred and twelve."
The seventh years began to brew their Polyjuice Potions, and Severus tried not to look at Rosemary.
"Professor," said Rosemary quietly, making it difficult for him not to look at her. Severus looked up from the floor.
"Yes, Miss Evans?"
"I need more lacewing flies."
Severus looked at her desk, which had no lacewing flies, and back up at the pretty seventh year. "What's happened to yours, Miss Evans?"
She cast a dark glance back at Mr. Jones. "Jones was showing off." Rosemary turned Severus's attention to the nest of scuttling spiders that was crawling down the sides of her desk. "He turned them into spiders."
"Of course. Follow me," he said to Rosemary. "Mr. Jones, five points from Gryffindor, though I'm sure Professor McGonagall would be pleased to know that you are so very passionate about transfiguration."
Rosemary followed Severus through his office and into his storeroom while he carefully selected a handful of lacewing flies from a jar. It was unnerving to be so close to her, and even over the strong odor of the students' miserable potions, Rosemary smelled faintly of caramel.
Severus gave her the lacewing flies, carefully avoiding touching her hand. "You may want to keep these away from Mr. Jones in the future, Miss Evans."
She nodded. "I'll keep that in mind, Professor."
Rosemary left the storeroom and went back to her cauldron. Severus, on the other hand, leaned against the ladder and stared through the doors: at this angle, the only student he could see was Rosemary.
A week or so later, Severus was summoned to Professor Dumbledore's office to discuss something or other about Lily's son, "the boy who lived" as people called him; it was a routine. He wasn't at all happy to talk about the subject, but he was loyal to Dumbledore. He had tried to save Lily, after all. And Severus had sworn his undying loyalty for that failed favor.
As he strode through the corridor, Severus heard something that made him walk a little slower.
"Isn't he dreamy, Rosie?" Said a girl in a dopey voice. She was a little way away, though coming closer. Severus was going to keep walking, as the interests of teenage girls didn't concern him, until he heard Rosemary's voice.
"Who?" Said Rosemary. She obviously hadn't been paying attention while her friend had jabbered.
"Rodger Miller, of course! Rosie, don't you pay attention?"
"Of course, sorry. I just sort of zoned out."
"Do you think I should tell him?"
"I dunno. Yeah, go for it."
Severus heard Rosemary's friend stomp her foot. "I really want to, Rosie! But he's so cool! What could the captain of the Gryffindor Quiddich team want with a mere mortal like me?"
"Dunno. You're kind of cute."
"Be serious, Rosie!"
Rosemary snickered. "Smuggle him a love potion."
"That's brilliant, Rosie! But where would I get a love potion? They don't usually sell them to underage witches."
"For good reason," said Rosemary wryly. "Make one."
"I haven't got the ingredients, or any money," said Rosemary's friend sullenly. "Hey! What about Snape? I'm sure he'd have the ingredients."
"Of course he does, but he wouldn't give them to you."
"I could steal them," said Rosemary's friend.
"Amy!"
"I'm only kidding," said Amy, laughing. "I bet Snape would give you the ingredients if you asked. He'd probably give you anything."
"What?"
"Oh, don't tell me you haven't noticed. He's obviously in love with you! Personally, I think it's kind of creepy. Have you seen how he stares at you?" Amy snickered. "Come on, it would be easy."
"Professor Snape is not in love with me," said Rosemary defensively, sounding almost angry. "Nor is he creepy."
"Whatever, Rosie. Will you help me?"
"No! Even if you weren't a lying sack, I wouldn't take advantage of him like that. Professor Snape is very nice."
"Nice? Whose class are you in? I may be a fan of the art of sadism, but he's overkill, Rosie."
By that time, Severus had decided that he'd had enough of eavesdropping and continued at full pace, vowing to be less obvious in the future. Despite his attempts to escape, he passed them at an intersection between corridors and almost bumped into Rosemary. Amy gasped.
"P-Professor Snape!" She said, stammering madly. Rosemary just looked pale and guilty.
"On your way, ladies. Gryffindor has the field today. I'm sure Miller and Jones would appreciate your company at practice." And he stalked off to Dumbledore's office.
It wasn't until Saturday that Severus saw Rosemary again. He was in his office grading the third years' papers on the twelve uses of dragon's blood, when someone knocked meekly on the door.
"Come in."
When Severus saw that his guest was Rosemary, he rolled the papers up and tucked them away in a drawer. "Good afternoon, Miss Evans."
Rosemary stood in the doorway and wringed her hands. "Er, good afternoon, Professor."
"Have a seat, Miss Evans. You're letting in a draft."
She closed the door quietly and sat down in the chair in front of Severus's desk. "I'm sorry, Professor."
"About what, Miss Evans?"
Rosemary tried to meet Severus's eyes. "I'm not sure how much you heard, but I'm sorry about what Amy said."
"Miss Evans, please excuse me if I can't remember everything a seventeen-year-old girl might prattle on about." Though it was obvious he remembered—he couldn't forget the kind of things that Rosemary's simple friend had said. He only wanted to see if Rosemary had the nerve to say it.
"Of course, I'm sorry." Rosemary looked away. "She wanted me to ask you for things to make a love potion with, Professor. I wouldn't, of course, but you might have thought…"
"Excuse my interruption, Miss Evans, but I don't believe I'm terribly concerned. Why would your friend be convinced that I would do you such a service, though?"
Rosemary blushed deeply, a color that tickled Severus. "She thinks…Professor, I don't think—"
"Miss Allan is under the impression that I am in love with you, is she not?"
She nodded, not looking directly at Severus. She stared at the black quill lying on his desk. "But Amy's pretty thick."
"Do you believe her?"
"Of course not," Rosemary laughed uncomfortably. Severus didn't say anything: instead, he stood up and went back into his storeroom, returning a moment later with a small bottle of Moonstone powder and a pouch. He sat down again and placed the ingredients in her hand.
"What's this?" Rosemary asked, staring at the ingredients in disbelief. She tried to stand up, but her chair was too close to Severus's desk.
"If I am not mistaken, Miss Allan claims that, because I am in love with you, it won't be a problem for you to get the ingredients she wants. Congratulations, Miss Evans." He then removed one of the papers from his desk and continued grading.
"Professor?" Said Rosemary, leaning across the desk and trying to get him to look at her. He wasn't actually grading, his eyes instead focused on one point of the paper. "Professor, I don't want these." Rosemary pushed the Moonstone powder and the pouch toward him.
Severus looked up from the paper and studied Rosemary carefully.
"Amy's full of hot air, right?"
"Miss Allan demonstrates consistent stupidity in all practical matters, Miss Evans. But I'm afraid that in this case, she's right."
Rosemary froze and met Severus's gaze, and he could tell she was wondering if he was telling the truth, hoping to see insincerity. "Professor…" She began, but never finished her sentence. She grabbed him by the front of his robes and kissed him, but Severus could only wonder if she really meant it.