Okay, so...yeah. This is my first attempt at writing a story with an original character, so I hope you like her. I shall probobly give more background information about her later. I hope this isn't too confusing, but if you have any suggestiong about how to fix anything, feel free to tell me.

Also, this story is put under M merely as a precaution at this point, but there may be some more graphic violence and what-not later, so if you don't like that, don't get too attached now. =p

And this is a prologue, so more coming later, at least one chapter, and more if anyone likes it.

Thank you and enjoy~

P.S. Don't kill me for making an OC, at least mine isn't a Mary Jane...


Diagon Alley, July 1981 - Bubble and Squeak, a small apothecary

"Hello?"

A small hum came from the person behind the book, but she didn't stop reading.

"...Angie."

The young girl looked up from her seat on the floor, lowering her book to her lap. "Yes...?"

"Where is your mother?" A young man had entered her shop, closing the door behind him when he saw that the girl was the only occupant. He appeared very serious as he looked around, but then again...he always looked serious.

"She's in the back working on a potion. It's really slow today, so I said I would watch the shop for a little while." She smiled and stood, walking toward her visitor.

"Do you really think that safe? You're only five. What if someone came in here to rob you?" His face was grave as he looked down at her.

She looked down and sighed. "Bu...You're right, I should have just closed shop until she came back. ...I'm sorry."

The man reached down to pat her shoulder lightly. "It's okay. It's good that you want to take on some responsibilities for yourself now. But I don't think you are quite ready for this one. It is a dark time for us and you never know who could be wandering these streets."

"Oh..." Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. "Like...You-Know-Who?"

"Exactly. So stay safe." He frowned, his expression a bit more emotional than his young friend was used to. "I don't want anyone else I care for in danger."

Angie was about to ask him what he meant, but at that moment Guinevere Malfoy opened the back door, frowing slightly. "Angie, I told you to tell people I would be right..." As she walked out from behind the back shelf, she finally saw that she had a customer. "Oh, Severus, I should have known it was you. Guess I'm losing my touch at my old age."

Severus shook his head at the auburn-haired witch. "You're only 25. That isn't old."

"Yeah yeah. I'm older than you, pretty boy. What do you want?" She came up to the two of them, picking up Angie and balancing her on her hip.

"Just the shipment that I asked for. And another bezoar if you have it."

Before he even finished his sentence, Guinevere was putting down her daughter and moving towards the back of the shop again. "We just got in your Murtlap last night. I'll get it. Ang, could you get Mr. Snape his bezoar?"

"Yes, mother." Angie shook her red-tinged blonde hair behind her shoulder before going behind the counter to the appropriate drawer, standing on tip-toes to peer inside. She took out the small box labeled Bezoars, peeking out from behind the counter to look up at Severus. "Just one?"

"Yes." He gave a curt nod and stepped towards her.

She nodded and began to package the bezoar for him, being careful not to touch it (she was a smart little girl and knew where the things came from). "Oh, Mr. Snape..." She looked up as she tied string around the small parchment-wrapped package. "Don't you start your new job this year?"

He tensed slightly and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes. I will be teaching at Hogwarts from now on."

"Oh, good!" She stepped out from behind the counter and handed him the wrapped bezoar. "I can't wait to go to school. I'm just know you'll be a great Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." She beamed in that way that little girls do when they are excited, clasping her hands behind her back.

Severus frowned again, his expression an almost painful grimace. "Unfortunately, Miss Malfoy, I will not be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh..." She looked down, sensing that he was a bit hurt. "Well, what are you teaching?"

He cleared his throat a bit awkwardly. "Potions."

"Oh, even better! I love potions! Mummy has even been teaching me a little bit about them."

At this, his expression did lighten slightly. "Ah, that is good. I will make sure my classes will still challenge you. I wouldn't want you sitting in my class not learning anything."

"I won't disappoint you." She giggled and bounced up and down a bit. She liked talking to Mr. -well, Professor now- Snape whenever he came to their shop; he treater her like an adult and was very smart, if a little...cold. She enjoyed nothing more than seeing him smile though, mainly because it was such a challenge. Especially today. He seemed more serious than usual even and all the things she typically did to cheer him up weren't working.

"I am sure you won't." His arms remained crossed over his chest and he seemed distracted. He thought for a moment before taking a thin book out of a large inner pocket in his robes. "I almost forgot. I brought you a present." He offered it to her and she took it gleefully, but her face fell a little as she opened it and glanced over a few pages. Simple Spells for Young Minds was a very old book, bound in leather, which had a number of spells, potions, and charms ranging from very simple to intermediate level all mainly focusing on defense and protection.

"Oh...I can't read this, Mr. Snape...There are hardly any pictures."

"No, I thought not. But when the time comes, I'm sure it will be of great help to you. You can at least get a head start on your schooling."

"Well, thank you very much." She smiled and tried her best to look pleasant, though she was a bit disappointed. Previously, he had brought her another present- a toffee- and in her young mind the sweet was a much better gift. She promised herself that she would read it though, and she soon did.

"Do you really need this much Murtlap, Snape?" Guinevere asked loudly, sounding a bit peeved at having to carry the heavy crate. Snape strode over to take it from her, casting a quick lightening spell under his breath.

"Yes, I do. For the cupboards at school. It is very handy in healing spells, and I'm sure there will be many cuts and scrapes in a stone castle full of school children. Don't you agree, Miss Malfoy?"

"Yes..." Angie said, glancing down at her own scabbed palm.

"Right, well that will be ten galleons and a sickle for the murtlap and the bezoar." Malfoy picked up her daughter and walked over to the counter. She wasn't particularly fond of her daughter spending time with the young half-blood, but she tolerated it since Angie had a habit of holding her breath whenever Guinevere mentioned refusing the man's patronage.

Snape took the aforementioned amount of money out of another pocket in his robes and handed the coins to Mrs. Malfoy. As she put the coins into the till, he turned to go.

"Mummy..." Angie whined and squirmed, trying to get her mother to put her down. When she was standing on her own again, she walked over to Severus and hugged him, her height putting the embrace at about mid-thigh height. "Feel better, Mr. Snape!"

He smiled ruefully as he looked down at her. "Thank you. I will try, Miss Malfoy. But I really should be going." He patted her head lightly. "Good bye."

She frowned as she watched him go, having the horrible feeling that something dreadful was going to happen to him. Only years later did she realize that that October, on Halloween night, the Boy Who Lived would bring about the first fall of Lord Voldemort, but not before the Dark Lord murdered the boy's father and (far more importantly for him) mother. After that day, betrayed and heartbroken, he would never be quite the same. ...and it would be a long while before she saw him smile again.


And that's it~ I'm sure I'll go back and edit this later, but for now I just want to get it put up. So I hope you liked it~

Also, reviews are always nice, but no pressure. ^.^''

Disparagingly yours,

Emiline Vance