Author's Note: The idea for this fic began when Charity Burbage, as she was about to meet her death, begged Severus Snape for her life. She called him her friend. Why? The muse has run with this idea to present a three (maybe four) part Severus Snape mentors Harry Potter story. This is Part 1 - A Failure to Communicate. I want to thank WizardSmurf for encouraging me and being a gracious beta. As with all fanfiction - these characters are not mine.
Chapter 1
Black robes billowed as Severus strode toward the Headmaster's office. He had been summoned from his lab at a most inopportune moment and Dumbledore was going to hear about it if it was the last thing the younger wizard did that day. Wolfsbane waited for no one!
The charmed gargoyle chiseled into the door of the office saw the vexed man stomping toward him. His stony eyes narrowed, anticipating the all too familiar exchange. Severus came tête-à-tête with the figure, eyeing it menacingly. The gargoyle swallowed hard, refusing to yield.
"Password," he requested calmly.
The Potions professor rolled his eyes.
"Open the door, Basil! You know I've been summoned."
"You know the rules. Password, Professor Snape," he asked again.
"I am not going to debase my vocabulary by uttering that foolish password!" the young wizard groused in exasperation. "So, permit me entry, damn it! Or I'll hex your clear off this door!"
"Tsk! Tsk! Language, Professor! Language! Password…please." the gargoyle restated resolutely.
Severus inched closer until they were nose-to-nose and simply growled low and deep. Knowing he was powerless the animated object flinched first and instantly the door swung open.
"Now was that so hard?" the Potions Master smirked.
The gargoyle sniggered at Severus, "Bon chance, Professor," as the door automatically swung shut with a thud.
Severus turned back quickly, furrowing his brow at the now closed door. He shook his head and moved toward the stairs. Taking them two at a time, he made sure he would be heard coming, his black dragon-hide boots clacking against the marble steps.
The Headmaster's office was cluttered, as per usual. Severus looked about for Dumbledore only to find him casually sipping tea at his desk. The younger wizard stepped forward.
"Albus…honestly…" he spat, "now is not a good time! I was right in the middle of brewing. What do you need?"
The Headmaster looked up, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.
"Ahhh…Severus, my boy! I'm so glad you could come."
The older wizard placed down his teacup and saucer and stood at his desk, smiling with unfettered mirth. Severus scowled at the Headmaster's obvious indifference to his being inconvenienced.
"Would you like some tea, my boy?" Dumbledore asked. "I just brewed a pot. It's your favorite – oolong," he said with a gleam in his eye.
The Headmaster moved to his serving table to pour Severus some tea before the younger wizard could even respond. Slyly, he eyed his mentor. It was quite evident that the Headmaster was up to something. Dumbledore's favorite periwinkle robes were neatly pressed and his beard combed and kept. Even his wizard's hat had been thoroughly scourgified. The Headmaster approached Severus, tea things in hand. The younger wizard had no choice but to take the hot drink – curiosity about the situation abating his ire.
"Thank you, sir," he sighed.
Albus looked kindly at the younger man and patted him on the shoulder.
"Severus," the Headmaster began as he returned to his desk, "you know that I've been looking for a someone to teach Muggle studies…"
"Yes…" Severus cut in, trying to anticipate Dumbledore's agenda.
"Well, I've just made a new hire and since I have an important assignment for the two of you, I wanted you to meet with her as soon as possible."
"Of course, Albus. I understand, but…"
A young woman stood up from one of the two armchairs situated in front of the Headmaster's large oak desk, unintentionally interrupting Severus' train of thought. He tried not to gawk. 'How did I not notice her sitting there?' he puzzled. From the slim wand holster at her side, she was undoubtedly a witch, but one accustomed to life in the Muggle world. She wore brown leather kitten heels, a fitted, fern green pencil skirt accented with a gold clasp, cut just above her knee, and a cuffed, long-sleeved, cream-colored ruffled blouse, tucked in at the waist. The outfit showed off her lithe figure. Her hair was up in a loose bun, though a straight fringe and loose tendrils framed her face. Within the ruffles of her blouse was an antique locket made of gold with a cameo inlaid. She seemed unaffected by his attention, allowing him to stare.
"I presume you remember our former Head Girl, Severus, Ms. Charity Burbage," Dumbledore interjected.
Severus continued to gaze upon her, though he fought to keep his face impassive. Suddenly he caught her eye and a flash of something inexplicable appeared in his imagination. It was of him and her tangled up on a desk in a classroom, but it wasn't of them as they were at the moment. Subconsciously, he cocked his head, but the vision disappeared as Charity flushed slightly and looked away.
Before any awkwardness could settle upon the room Severus placed his teacup and saucer down on the serving table and stepped toward the Headmaster's desk. He extended his hand.
"Yes, of course," he began. "It is good to see you again Ms. Burbage. It's been a long time."
Charity smiled, letting him to take her hand in his.
"It certainly has, Professor. Have you been well?"
"More or less. And you?"
"Let's just say things have recently taken a turn for the better."
Severus raised an eyebrow at her comment, continuing to hold her hand. The sound of the Headmaster's desk chair scratching the stone floor broke the moment. Charity took her seat while the two men remained standing. She crossed her left leg over her right, allowing her left heel to dangle off her foot ever so slightly. Imperceptibly, the young wizard licked his lips. Pinching his black trousers upward, the Potions professor took his seat across from the Headmaster, his cup of oolong tea long forgotten.