A/N: ok, its Snape and the new DADA teacher. nothing new. but i really tried to not make her a mary sue. i already wrote a story with one, and didn't get very positive feedback.
i'm doin' what i can.
Disclaimer: i own pink nailpolish, a denim skirt, and tennis shoes. I do not, however, own harry potter. jk something-or-other does.
I'll Always be Right There
Severus Snape was doing what he did best. Glowering.
"I will not stand for this Albus. For the past 10 years I have been passed by for this job, and I don't appreciate being looked over year after year."
"Severus, you know that you are the best Potions Master Hogwarts has seen in almost a century. Besides," Dumbledore said, smiling slightly, "I know
how much you like sweeping around your dungeons."
"Albus that is not a reason. I deserve better."
"Severus, I have never seen a higher-qualified Potions Master. But, there are numerous people with far mor Dark Arts expirience then you."
"More than me? Short of Voldemort, I don't know who you could be talking about."
Dumbledore just smiled his enigmatic smile that he was known for. The smile that meant he knew much more than he was saying, but would never tell. "Fine,"
Snape said angrily. "I'll see you at dinner, Albus." And he stormed down to the dungeons. Pouring himself a glass of brandy, and sitting in his well-worn leather
chair, Snape contemplated the Headmaster. Never, in all his life, had he been more frustrated about not getting the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.
He wasn't sure why, but he felt that this was his year. 'Then again,' he thought wryly to himself, taking a sip of his drink, 'I've thought every year was my
year.' Sighing deeply, Snape settled back into his chair and stared into the dancing flames. Sometimes, he didn't even know why he bothered.
Morgaine Lephay walked briskly to the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore had given her the password, but she couldn't remember it. She was already late, lost,
and undoubtedly headed for disaster. Finally she reached the stone gargoyle Dumbledore had spent at least a half-an-hour describing. There she stood,
trying desperately to remember. "Cotton candy?" she tried pitifully. Nothing. "Oh, please," she muttered. "Chocolate?" The gargoyle's stone eyes just
glared back. "Damnit, you stupid sculpture, if you don't open for me right now, I will shove this-" she held up the bag of Skittles she happen to have
in her robes pocket, "bag of Skittles so far up your stony-" the sculpture sprung open. "Thank you," she said, and walked up the spiriling staircase.
"Proffessor Dumbledore?"
"Ah, Morgaine, I am so happy you were able to arrive this evening. I heard there was a storm coming in, and I was worried because you flew, correct?"
"I did, Proffessor," she said, holding up her broomstick. "Luckily, it hasn't started raining."
"Very lucky indeed. Well, Morgaine, follow me, and I will show you your rooms."
Morgaine stood, and let the older wizard lead her all around, up and down curving staircases, past a few doors who begged to be tickled, to a large painting
of a calm lake with an island. Morgaine had to smile at that. "How appropriate, Albus."
Dumbledore seemed proud of himself. "I knew it would please you. Perhaps it will keep you from being homesick.
"Perhaps. Thank you, Albus, for everything. I'll call if I need anything."
"Of course, my dear. Dinner is at 7:00, and I must implore you to be ontime. You need to meet your new collegues."
"Where is this girl, Albus," Minerva McGonagall asked. "I would like to begin dinner soon. Did you tell her when it was?"
"Minerva, you are much too impatient," Professor Flitwick said. "It's hard to get around this castle. And Ms. Lephay has
lived on Avalon for her entire life, and, well, priestesses can be a little- misty." Flitwick cracked up at his own joke.
"Understand, Minerva? Misty- Avalon, it's in the mist-"
"Yes, Fillius, I think we all got it," Minerva said peevishly.
Snape rolled his eyes. Fillius Flitwick somehow managed to tell the worst jokes in the etire world. But Flitwick was right about one thing. Priestesses of Avalon
did tend to forget things. Why Albus had chosen to hire one for one of the most important jobs was beyond him. Suddenly, the door that led into the hall banged
open. Snape looked as a tall woman entered the hall. She had long black hair that reached her waist, and didn't appear to walk, but floated over the floor.
She wasn't very pretty, but had a natural grace. "So sorry I'm late," she said, her voice flowing like water. "I got lost." Flitwick smirked, and poked Minerva.
"No need to apoligize, my dear," Dumbledore said. "Take your seat." He gestured to the one between Snape and Hooch.
"So tell us a bit about yourself," Minerva said. "We've all been dying to hear about you."
Morgaine smiled sheepishly. "Well, I'm descended from the royal line of Avalon, and I've lived there my entire life. I was schooled there, but I specialized in the
Black Arts." Most of the staff looked shocked. "I didn't use it for evil," she explained quickly. "I simply found them alluring. And in Avalon, there is no evil. Only
those who know about the Black Arts, and those who don't. Anyhow, I had essentially learned every curse and counter curse-"
"That's impossible!" Snape shouted unexpectedly. "You expect me to believe that you learned every curse and counter curse? That would take a lifetime! Albus, you
have hired a liar."
"How quick you are to judge, Severus," she said in her mellow, slow voice. "You forget that time runs differently on Avalon. I am well over a hundred years old."
A/N: How was it? good? mediocre? should i shoot myself for writing it? i may sound desperate, but i need feedback!
i'm doin' what i can.
Disclaimer: i own pink nailpolish, a denim skirt, and tennis shoes. I do not, however, own harry potter. jk something-or-other does.
I'll Always be Right There
Severus Snape was doing what he did best. Glowering.
"I will not stand for this Albus. For the past 10 years I have been passed by for this job, and I don't appreciate being looked over year after year."
"Severus, you know that you are the best Potions Master Hogwarts has seen in almost a century. Besides," Dumbledore said, smiling slightly, "I know
how much you like sweeping around your dungeons."
"Albus that is not a reason. I deserve better."
"Severus, I have never seen a higher-qualified Potions Master. But, there are numerous people with far mor Dark Arts expirience then you."
"More than me? Short of Voldemort, I don't know who you could be talking about."
Dumbledore just smiled his enigmatic smile that he was known for. The smile that meant he knew much more than he was saying, but would never tell. "Fine,"
Snape said angrily. "I'll see you at dinner, Albus." And he stormed down to the dungeons. Pouring himself a glass of brandy, and sitting in his well-worn leather
chair, Snape contemplated the Headmaster. Never, in all his life, had he been more frustrated about not getting the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.
He wasn't sure why, but he felt that this was his year. 'Then again,' he thought wryly to himself, taking a sip of his drink, 'I've thought every year was my
year.' Sighing deeply, Snape settled back into his chair and stared into the dancing flames. Sometimes, he didn't even know why he bothered.
Morgaine Lephay walked briskly to the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore had given her the password, but she couldn't remember it. She was already late, lost,
and undoubtedly headed for disaster. Finally she reached the stone gargoyle Dumbledore had spent at least a half-an-hour describing. There she stood,
trying desperately to remember. "Cotton candy?" she tried pitifully. Nothing. "Oh, please," she muttered. "Chocolate?" The gargoyle's stone eyes just
glared back. "Damnit, you stupid sculpture, if you don't open for me right now, I will shove this-" she held up the bag of Skittles she happen to have
in her robes pocket, "bag of Skittles so far up your stony-" the sculpture sprung open. "Thank you," she said, and walked up the spiriling staircase.
"Proffessor Dumbledore?"
"Ah, Morgaine, I am so happy you were able to arrive this evening. I heard there was a storm coming in, and I was worried because you flew, correct?"
"I did, Proffessor," she said, holding up her broomstick. "Luckily, it hasn't started raining."
"Very lucky indeed. Well, Morgaine, follow me, and I will show you your rooms."
Morgaine stood, and let the older wizard lead her all around, up and down curving staircases, past a few doors who begged to be tickled, to a large painting
of a calm lake with an island. Morgaine had to smile at that. "How appropriate, Albus."
Dumbledore seemed proud of himself. "I knew it would please you. Perhaps it will keep you from being homesick.
"Perhaps. Thank you, Albus, for everything. I'll call if I need anything."
"Of course, my dear. Dinner is at 7:00, and I must implore you to be ontime. You need to meet your new collegues."
"Where is this girl, Albus," Minerva McGonagall asked. "I would like to begin dinner soon. Did you tell her when it was?"
"Minerva, you are much too impatient," Professor Flitwick said. "It's hard to get around this castle. And Ms. Lephay has
lived on Avalon for her entire life, and, well, priestesses can be a little- misty." Flitwick cracked up at his own joke.
"Understand, Minerva? Misty- Avalon, it's in the mist-"
"Yes, Fillius, I think we all got it," Minerva said peevishly.
Snape rolled his eyes. Fillius Flitwick somehow managed to tell the worst jokes in the etire world. But Flitwick was right about one thing. Priestesses of Avalon
did tend to forget things. Why Albus had chosen to hire one for one of the most important jobs was beyond him. Suddenly, the door that led into the hall banged
open. Snape looked as a tall woman entered the hall. She had long black hair that reached her waist, and didn't appear to walk, but floated over the floor.
She wasn't very pretty, but had a natural grace. "So sorry I'm late," she said, her voice flowing like water. "I got lost." Flitwick smirked, and poked Minerva.
"No need to apoligize, my dear," Dumbledore said. "Take your seat." He gestured to the one between Snape and Hooch.
"So tell us a bit about yourself," Minerva said. "We've all been dying to hear about you."
Morgaine smiled sheepishly. "Well, I'm descended from the royal line of Avalon, and I've lived there my entire life. I was schooled there, but I specialized in the
Black Arts." Most of the staff looked shocked. "I didn't use it for evil," she explained quickly. "I simply found them alluring. And in Avalon, there is no evil. Only
those who know about the Black Arts, and those who don't. Anyhow, I had essentially learned every curse and counter curse-"
"That's impossible!" Snape shouted unexpectedly. "You expect me to believe that you learned every curse and counter curse? That would take a lifetime! Albus, you
have hired a liar."
"How quick you are to judge, Severus," she said in her mellow, slow voice. "You forget that time runs differently on Avalon. I am well over a hundred years old."
A/N: How was it? good? mediocre? should i shoot myself for writing it? i may sound desperate, but i need feedback!