Chapter One - One Step Closer

He sat in his chair, eyes studying the room he knew in which he would spend the rest of his life. The cold stone glistened with water, candles flickering small trickles of light here and there, their reflection in the water sparkling like glitter. The air smelled crisp, damp... a hint of smoke from the fire, and light scents of different ingredients from the bottles lining the wall. The wooden desk was firm under his elbows, and the leather chair soft against his back. Surveying the room again one time, he stood and left, the heavy wooden door slamming behind him.

The halls were empty now... Just how he liked it. He only had a few days of freedom left, so he walked slowly, without need to strike fear into passerby with his billowing black robes and stern expression. He stopped at a window overlooking the lake and forests, and let his mind wander. What could have possibly driven him to accept this? Was it necessary? He knew Albus had done so much for him, and until the young Potter boy was brought here for schooling, he had 10 years to serve the man's every bidding. Would it be so hard to accept ten years of hard work? He didn't think Albus would ever ask such a thing again, and if he did, well, there would be some way to just work around it. Flicking his wand silently, he noted the time, and continued his walk to the highest tower.

As he approached the large winged gargoyle, he came to a standstill, and muttered "Butterbeer". The gargoyle began to turn and rise, bringing forth a set of stairs. He stepped onto the third, and stood as the staircase rose to meet a wooden door. He rapped his knuckles on it three times, and entered without waiting for an answer. The room was empty and silent. He sighed. Just like Albus, to insist on others timeliness, yet have no requirement for his own. The student was late as well. If that was to be any sign of what was to come, he knew he'd be facing many migraines this year.

He wandered the room slowly, finally stopping at the Pensieve. He glanced down into it, and watched images swim back and forth... Albus' memories... He saw himself many times... but the reoccurring image was himself crying for Lily's death, and begging Albus to help him... The only other image that swam forth was that of a young girl. Her smiling face was stunning. Her golden hair was long, streaks of pink and blue dancing in and out of the cascades of blonde. Her green eyes... They sparkled so much, all he could think of was Lily. He didn't know who this girl was, but he yanked himself from the Pensieve, unable to bear her eyes any longer. At the sound of footsteps outside the door, he wiped the tears from his eyes, and composed himself. The door swung open, revealing Albus laughing uncontrollably.

"My goodness, Miss Williams, you certainly have an amazing sense of humor. I don't believe I've laughed this hard in quite a while," he said, still chuckling. He turned away from the door. "Ah, Severus, you're here. Good."

"Of course, I'm here, Headmaster. You did send for me. You, however, are late," Severus said, gritting his teeth. Did the man have no respect for his time? Albus sat down at his desk. "Yes, I did, didn't I? Well, I thought it best for you to get started on your lesson planning for the year, and I thought you might wish to meet your assistant." Severus turned as the door clicked softly, only to be struck by piercing green eyes. The same eyes from the Pensieve. The girl that had torn forth all of his pain and loss with a simple smile. He groaned inwardly. How would he ever last around her?

"Severus, this is Ianna Williams. She is a seventh year Ravenclaw, and is very, very good at Potions. Horace recommended she study with an Auror who is thoroughly advanced in Potions, but she chose to stay here at work with you," Albus said, his grin bigger than ever. Severus rolled his eyes, and clenched his fist, tempted to put it through the nearest wall.

"Very well, Albus. You have given me no choice in this matter, so we'll get through it as fast as possible. Now if you'll excuse me, I have things to do." He pushed away from the bookcase he'd been leaning against, and strode past the girl and through the door. As he passed her slender frame, he caught a whiff of her perfume... A light scent of fruit, sweet and tantalizing, but he couldn't place what it was exactly. Pushing the thought from his mind, he strode quickly back to the Dungeons. He passed a few teachers on his way down, but the look on his face must've been frightening, because they quickly moved away in terror as he passed. He entered his quarters and slammed the door shut. His fist quickly connected with the bookcase, sending his notebooks, novels, and Potions directions scattering around the room, as though running in terror from his hand.

The tears came forward again, spilling quickly from his eyes. The loss of the only woman he ever loved was a fresh wound, and being around this girl was like pouring salt into the wound. He crumbled to the floor, his black cloak wrapping itself around him, and he let himself sob uncontrollably. It wasn't until he smelled something sweet hanging near him that he stopped crying. He quickly whipped out his wand as he stood and turned in a flurry, a hand on the girl's shoulder and his wand to her throat. He slammed her against the door.

"HOW DARE YOU ENTER MY CHAMBERS WITHOUT PERMISSION? You stupid girl, you will regret your idiocy more than you can possibly imagine. I will make you suffer for this!" His teeth were clenched hard, and his face flushed with anger. He felt every nerve on his body on fire with his rage: Rage for Lily's death, rage for what Albus was doing to him, and rage against this girl for her stupidity. His eyes locked with hers, and he watched as a small tear escaped from the corner of her eye. Without warning, he felt his heart stop, and the flurry of rage had completely left his body. All he could feel was a deep, agonizing pain. It was like watching Lily cry, and he couldn't bear it. He felt a twinge of desire to pull her into his arms, but instead he yanked himself away from her, as she slumped to the floor, coughing. He knelt down next to her.

"Have I seriously injured you?" She shook her head. "Good. Get out." He stood and went to his desk, sitting down and resting his head in his hands, trying to rid himself of the pounding migraine by sheer will. The room was so quiet, he wasn't sure if she had left or not, but at that point, he didn't care. It wasn't until he felt the light brush of fingertips against his temple that he knew she was still there, and he was ready to hex her across the room. But before he could even lift his head, he noticed a warmth spreading from her fingers into his head, and the headache began to fade. He leaned back into the cushioning of his chair, relaxing as the pain faded away to nothing.

When it was gone, she dropped her hand from his head, and leaned against his desk. He looked up at her inquisitively. "How does a 17 year old learn Wandless Magic?" She shrugged. "My mother taught me right before she died 3 years ago... I've been practicing ever since. Anyway, I know you hate me Professor. I'm sorry you got shouldered with me. I'm sorry you hate me. I'm sorry for whatever it is about me that drives you nuts, even though you don't know me. But mostly, I'm sorry that we have to deal with each other for the rest of the year. But I'm going to do whatever I can to secure my future. If that means sitting here day after day with my mouth shut, so be it. I just hope you'll be willing to work with me to make this bearable." She lifted herself off of his desk and moved towards the door. Twisting the knob, she looked back into his onyx eyes with a sadness in her own and said, "Good night, Professor."