A/N: This is a rewrite of "Amor Vincit Omnia" because I felt that the old version was OOC, sappy and just so unrealistic that I cringed to read it again! I am leaving the old version on, just in case anybody happens to think it's better-although I really doubt that! Cicely is more assertive and Snape is more IC (well, IMHO!)
Plus there is something for everybody in here; Draco Malfoy and his goons, Harry, Hermione and Ron, the Weasley twins, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black (but mainly Cicely/Severus) So please read and review; it's not your average Snapefic…
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter characters, locations and concepts all belong to J.K Rowling. However, Cicely O'Malley is my own character :o) and as far as I know, so are Zachary Griffiths, Katrina and Wilhelmina Cassidy, and Darren Blackstone. And the plot's mine, of course.
"Amor Vincit Omnia"
By Silver Willow
Chapter 1
Eyes narrowed to mere slits, liquid black irises glinting through ebony lashes, Severus Snape scowled at the chattering students, fingernails digging into the table. Yet another year in which Fred and George Weasley would cause trouble, Neville Longbottom would blow up several cauldrons, and Harry Potter and his faithful entourage would infuriate him merely by their presence. Know-It-All Granger, gormless Weasley and famous Harry Potter.
And to add to all this, if the monotony of his rigid routine wasn't enough, he had been overlooked for the Defence Against the Dark Arts job. For some reason, none of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers had lasted for longer than a school year, which had been perfect for Snape. He had wanted the job for years now, but had never succeeded. At the end of every year, he revelled in the fact that yet another teacher had left, and that this would surely be his chance.
And, yet again, he had been overlooked. Dumbledore had summoned Snape to his office several days before the start of the new term, and had looked thoughtfully at the dark-haired Potions master, fixing him with his light-blue gaze.
"With regards to your application for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, I have already appointed somebody for the post," he said. "I know you hate to hear this, but I want you to remain as Head of Slytherin and Professor of Potions this year. I have no doubt that you could teach the subject excellently, but I have my reasons."
Snape had sighed heavily. "Thank you for considering me, Headmaster."
He had left the office, feeling slightly miffed. He hadn't agreed with any of Dumbledore's previous choices; a bigheaded celebrity, a werewolf and a Death Eater. It didn't sound rather impressive when it was said so frankly.
Ah, said a malicious voice in his mind, but you were a Death Eater, weren't you?
Yes, but I'm not any more, he thought angrily. The voice laughed softly.
A leopard doesn't change its spots, the voice continued. Why should you be any different?
Because I'm working for the good side, he retorted firmly. He mentally shook himself. He really should stop arguing with his conscience like this. He wondered who Dumbledore had hired in his place. Probably a banshee, if his past record was anything to go by.
Returning to the present day, he glanced disdainfully at the empty seat beside him. The new Professor obviously didn't care about making a good impression. Probably combing his hair, he thought wryly. He had been sickened by Lockhart's gleaming smile, his wavy blond hair and blue eyes that made witches swoon throughout the country.
The door that led to the Great Hall from the dungeons suddenly banged open, and a windswept woman in blue robes hurried in, tangled dark brown curls framing her face. Snape stared at the woman in amazement. Who on earth was she? A Ministry official? A friend of Dumbledore's?
Dumbledore stood up and greeted the young woman, who spoke briefly to him before greeting Minerva McGonagall, who appeared to be delighted by her arrival. She turned around and took the seat beside Snape, and he gaped in unflattering astonishment as she grinned at him.
"Evening, Professor," she said, brightly. Snape mouthed wordlessly at her, unable to do anything but open and close his mouth like an idiot. She giggled.
"It's the first time I've seen you lost for words," she said, amused. "Don't you remember me? Cicely O'Malley, Gryffindor house, left six years ago?"
Snape groaned inwardly. He remembered her, alright. She had been a bright student, admittedly, but had given him plenty of chances to take points from Gryffindor in her years at Hogwarts. However, she hadn't been half as bad as her bubbly blonde Gryffindor friend and partner in crime, Katrina Cassidy. Fred and George Weasley would have liked her, had they been around in her years at Hogwarts. Then again, he thought, she hadn't left school all that long ago. She was what, twenty-five? Fred and George would probably have been mere first years when she was in her final year.
"Yes, I remember you," he said dryly, his eyes narrowed in an intimidating glare. "I'll take your abrupt entrance to mean that you are the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor."
"Well, I'm sorry about that," she said, looking slightly flustered. "I got held up at home. My uncle was giving last minute advice and I couldn't get away."
"Enchanting," he muttered, drumming his long fingers on the table. Cicely looked at him and frowned slightly, her brow wrinkled. He looked at her, irritated.
"What is it?" he said, snappily. She glanced at him thoughtfully.
"I feel stupid calling you Professor Snape," she said, abruptly. "We are working together, after all."
"You don't have to feel stupid," he said shortly. She waited expectantly for him to speak, but he didn't reply.
"Well?" she said, impatiently. "Don't you have a first name?"
"Don't you ever stop being infuriating?" he snapped. Cicely folded her arms indignantly.
"Don't treat me like the student I was six years ago," she said, angrily.
"Then stop acting like it," he replied simply. "I don't have time for your witty little remarks and childish practical jokes. You're here as a teacher, and I suggest you act like it."
Cicely stared at him, a shocked silence filling the air between them.
"So, can I call you Severus?" she asked candidly. He groaned.
"If it means that you won't pester me, then yes," he said, defeated. Cicely grinned.
"Well, you can call me Cicely," she said, holding out her hand for him to shake.
"Thanks," he said, not looking at her. She retreated her hand, slightly rebuffed. She had hoped that Snape had changed since her years at Hogwarts. She had imagined him to be less sarcastic now that he was older; perhaps even…pleasant. But she brushed aside that thought right away. Severus Snape was pricklier than a hedgehog, and like a Manticore in his manner. The logic and intelligence of a man, yet the fierceness of a lion and the sarcasm like a scorpion's sting. Perhaps he was a Manticore personified, she thought.
Cicely turned towards the main doors of the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall was making her way through with the new first years, a tangled knot of scared looking youngsters. She was holding a scroll and a tattered hat in one hand, and a three-legged stool in the other, and set them in front of the staff table, for all of the students to see.
"Oh, I'm glad I haven't missed the Sorting," she said, happily.
"You wouldn't have missed much if you had," muttered Snape, but he didn't look at Cicely.
She watched the students stumble timidly out of line to be Sorted as Professor McGonagall read out their names and placed the Sorting Hat on their heads. She recognised a couple of names; 'Cassidy, Wilhelmina' (GRYFFINDOR!) was the younger sister of her best friend Katrina, who had been in her year at school. 'Blackstone, Darren' (RAVENCLAW!) was a distant relation of hers; a second cousin, if she remembered rightly.
As soon as the Sorting had finished, Dumbledore stood up, his hands clasped together. The students fell silent, and Cicely marvelled at how Dumbledore managed to gain everybody's attention merely by standing up.
"The beginning of yet another school year," he said, glancing around the hall. "I must impress upon you all, especially the first years, that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students, even more so than before, given recent circumstances."
His gaze rested on the Hufflepuff table, which was still somewhat subdued from the death of Cedric Diggory, who had been murdered at the hand of Lord Voldemort. Dumbledore had informed Cicely of Voldemort's rebirth when he had spoken to her about the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, seeing as the Ministry was still acting like it hadn't happened.
"And, on a brighter note, may I welcome our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor O'Malley," continued Dumbledore. The students clapped loudly, and Cicely blushed as two identical red-haired boys wolf-whistled at her and cheered.
"Now that all of the notices are given out, may the feast begin!" said Dumbledore, happily. He clapped his hands, and hundreds of dishes and bowls filled with every kind of food imaginable appeared on the tables. It was just how Cicely remembered it.
"Gosh, I'm starving," said Ron, who was shovelling pie into his mouth like he hadn't eaten for days.
"After all those sweets you had on the train?" said Hermione, disbelievingly.
"Hey, I'm a growing lad," retorted Ron indignantly. "Anyway, you had your fair share of sweets off the trolley."
Hermione heaved a long-suffering sigh. "I don't know why I bother, I really don't."
"Don't, then," said Ron, through a mouthful of potato. "What do you make of that new Professor, anyway?"
"She's young compared to the ones we've usually had," said Harry, helping himself to potatoes. "And we've never had a female Defence teacher before."
"You talking about that new Professor?" asked Fred Weasley, leaning conspiratorially towards Harry, Ron and Hermione.
"Yeah, why?" asked Ron, suspiciously.
"We know her," said Fred and George in unison.
"Really?" asked Hermione, keenly. "How do you know her?"
"Well, when we were in our first year, young and innocent…" began George, then stopped as Hermione cleared her throat pointedly. "Okay, when we were in our first year, she was in her sixth. She was in Gryffindor, and she was almost as good as getting into trouble as we were."
"Yeah…but nobody's as good as us," interrupted Fred, grinning. "She didn't get an entire drawer in Filch's filing cabinet to herself…she had to share with Zachary Griffiths and Katrina Cassidy."
"She must only be twenty-four," said Hermione, thoughtfully. "That's quite young for a Professor."
"Well, Snape's been teaching for about ten years," said Harry. "If he was in my parents' year, he'll be thirty-seven now. He would have been teaching at twenty-seven."
"He doesn't look happy," said Hermione, shrewdly. "Wonder why?"
"Oh, I wonder," replied Ron, sarcastically. "Hermione, that woman's got the job he's been after for years. I hardly think he's going to be happy."
Hermione bristled slightly. "Yes, but he could at least make an effort to get on with her."
"Honestly, you think all teachers are saints," said Ron in exasperation, something he had often said to Hermione, but something she never seemed to take heed of. She frowned at him.
"Well, they're supposed to be amicable to each other," retorted Hermione.
"You didn't say that when he was shooting death stares at Professor Lupin," Ron pointed out.
"That was different," said Hermione, slightly defeated. "Snape hated Lupin anyway since they went to school together. But what reason would he have for hating her?"
"Maybe she stole his quill," said Ron, sarcastically. "Or perhaps she dyed his hair blue."
"You're not helping," said Hermione sternly. "I really doubt that any of those would have happened, don't you?"
"Maybe," said Ron thoughtfully, "but then again, I don't think blue is his colour anyway."
Fred and George roared with laughter, and even Hermione allowed a small chuckle to escape her lips. Harry almost choked on his pie and Ron had to bang him on the back to stop him choking.
Snape glanced disdainfully in Cicely's direction with his usual sneer engraved into his dark features. She was talking animatedly to Minerva McGonagall, who looked enraptured with the girl. He realised that of course Minerva would favour the girl; after all, she had been a Gryffindor in her days at school. No doubt this new…Professor…would be another Remus Lupin. She'd be popular among those goody-goody Gryffindors just as Lupin had been, the hard-working Hufflepuffs would do their very best to please her and the Ravenclaws would probably admire her sharp-tongued wit. He wasn't too sure about his Slytherins; hopefully they would see exactly what he saw in her; nothing at all.
Of course, she had changed somewhat since her days at Hogwarts. Her physical appearance remained just as it had in her schooldays, but she looked somewhat…dignified…despite her sudden entrance. Glossy dark brown curls framed an oval youthful face, and bright blue eyes peered from underneath straying strands of hair. She was quite short, but she didn't seem to have gained weight since he had last seen her. In fact, she hardly looked different at all, apart from having a more mature appearance.
He really was cracking up. He'd just complimented a Gryffindor. And although he'd only admitted it somewhat reluctantly to himself, he still felt painfully exposed. Damn that annoying girl.
He made his way past Professor Vector and Professor Sinistra, glad that he could retire to his quarters at long last. He hated the first night back at Hogwarts; all it meant to him was that there were even more little brats running around the school, taking everything they had for granted. He envied them slightly though; they didn't have to worry overly about the rise of Voldemort. As far as they were concerned, Voldemort wasn't a problem. That was what the adults were for; to protect them.
They didn't need protecting, in Snape's opinion. He was a hard teacher, and he knew it, but it was his duty to prepare them all for the wizarding world. How could they expect to stand up to Voldemort if they couldn't even take a few harsh words from their Potions master?
He sighed and pushed the door open to his office, and flopped down wearily into a high-backed chair behind his desk. As long as Cicely O'Malley didn't pester him, he'd be fine.