Chapter 1

It's hot and humid. The bench is hard wood just like the rest of the floor and the walls of the foyer where I'm supposed to sit and be still. Dark stain, something like espresso. He should have just painted his entire house black, but perhaps the stain makes it look less cheap, if that's possible. My eyes stare at the clock into the living room, basically the only thing I can see from where I'm sitting. The clock and shelves upon shelves upon god- so many damn shelves of books. Maybe he's a librarian. I sigh and turn away from the clock. It's been nearly thirty minutes and I'm getting anxious. Well, more anxious.

Looking out the window is a better idea though it doesn't look much better out there. It's raining, as it does most days here. The smoke from the factories are mixed with the dark clouds to loom above us. It looks like it could be very cold outside, but it's actually hot. I know because I walked five blocks to get here as Mrs. Pepper dragged me along, the bottom of my coat getting wet and dirty with grime from the street.

"So, this is she." A statement instead of a question came from a deep voice behind me that definitely did not belong to Mrs. Pepper.

I swallow and my eyes focus away from the window as I turn my head to the right. A dark figure stands there in the hall, blocking the clock and the million shelves of books. The only thing I can see of Mrs. Pepper is her tall blonde hair peeking over the man's shoulder. The man is rigid and his face is set into a scowl as if I were some hungry street urchin who happened upon his doorstep.

I stand up and face him, as is customary. I feel the ridiculous need to curtsey, we were taught how after all. Though I'm rather clumsy and almost always fall over. It was one of things they taught us at the orphanage, along with other nonsense that we would never use in the real world when we became adults.

When I say nothing, he continues. "My name is Severus Snape, I am the potions master at Hogwarts, where you will be attending for the rest of your school career," he says as a matter of factly, rude.

None of what he says is insulting, but the tone alone sets me on edge. His chin length hair doesn't move as he speaks and are as black as the rest of his clothes. I thought perhaps he would be some cheery old man. Maybe a grandfather who misses the noise of children running about in his home—children and grandchildren that would visit and make me feel like I'm part of a family. Nowhere in the foyer or what I've seen of the living room suggests that he has any family.

I nod, "What should I call you, Sir?" Severus or Mr. Snape? Or perhaps Professor Snape? Or even better, Tall Rude Man. I already don't like him. This was not what I expected.

He doesn't anticipate this question, perhaps he hadn't thought about it. "Sir is fine. But you have not introduced yourself." He crosses his arms over his chest. Curt. Short. I really do not like him. I want to look at Mrs. Pepper and give her my poor puppy eyes and pout, but he is blocking her.

"Alice Taylor, Sir." I realize my need to curtsey isn't really a need at all, I just want to be smart and piss him off. But Mrs. Pepper is still here and she would kill me if I angered the last and only person that can take me in. I suppose this place is better than the streets. I switch my weight between my right and left feet, one of my many tells that show my anxiety. Mrs. Pepper pushes past SIR Severus Snape and walks to me.

"Alice, I know this is difficult for you. But Mr. Snape is a good man and he'll take care of you," she begins to tear up, her nose and cheeks flush red.

I look down at her gloved hands holding my gloved hands. She pulls me in towards her and wraps her arms around me. She's overweight, so her hands barely connect behind me because of her fat arms. I hold on to her, she's not my mother or anyone really close to me. In fact, I've only known her for three months. Three months since my parents died and left me parentless and family-less. But Mrs. Pepper understands my pain, so I like her. I'm not sure if I'll ever see her again. I squeeze her tighter as I feel a tear drop down my cheek. Then another tear and another until I'm sobbing into her coat and my coffee-brown stringy hair that smells like factory smoke.

Mrs. Pepper shushes me and kisses me on the cheeks. "Be good. Write me letters, alright?"

I follow her to the door which shuts behind her. I press my face to the window, the tiny, tiny window on the door and I watch her figure walk down the street with the black umbrella and she's gone.

I don't move. The clock behind me ticks and with each tick it gets louder and louder with the silence that has fallen between us. Each tick is painful as it stretches time. I hear his feet move on the floor, then he clears his throat.

Quickly, I wipe my tears and turn to him, then grab the two suitcases which house the only things I have left in this world.

He turns abruptly and walks up the stairs, each stair creaking beneath his weight. "Mrs. Pepper said you went to a private school for witches." Another statement, not a question.

I nod, but realize he can't see me behind his back. Perhaps the eyes on the back of his head are too covered up by his greasy black hair. "Yes, sir."

He stops in front of a room. It's bland with grayish yellow painted walls. There's a bed, a night stand with a lamp, and a dresser. "This is where you will be sleeping. You are sixteen and I expect you to act like a young adult. In saying so, you are allowed to go about in and out of the house as you please, however your curfew is at 10 o'clock every night. If you wish to eat dinner, it is at 6:30 in the dining room. No visitors allowed inside the house and no loud music."

It took him almost five minutes to say all that because of the way he spoke. Slow, as if I was some idiot. I stop myself from rolling my eyes and bite my tongue. He expects me to go inside, so I do. He turns to leave, his cloak flowing behind him as he makes his way down the stairs.

His presence somehow makes the room colder, somehow makes me feel more alone than ever. My parents are gone. Mrs. Pepper is gone. I'm alone in this house with this rigid, distant man that will probably just pretend I don't exist until school starts again.

I kick the door shut and it slams, harder than I anticipated. Then it bursts open, a flash of light- like lightning, bursts on the door. "And no slamming of doors!"

Author's Note: Thanks to StacPolly for doing an analysis of this first chapter. I've edited this chapter (up to Chapter 4) based on her analysis. They mainly had to do with tenses, passive voice, character speech patterns, and overall dialogue.

This is my first time writing in first person/present tense, so I will get them mixed up a lot. Thanks for being patient with me.

There are a lot of things I leave out on the first few chapters, but I promise that they will get answered later on as the story progresses. Alice's character will also begin to show in later chapters, for now I'm only letting readers see some of the more obvious things that people would usually see with people they just meet. If you do have questions about something and you're worried that they won't get answered because you've read a few chapters already and you still don't have the answer, just let me know. Perhaps there is something I missed.

I'm not writing for reviews, but I do like to get reviews so I know what I'm doing right so I can keep doing them, and what I need to work on. I love blunt reviews, so don't be afraid to lay it on me.