SUMMARY:
Lumora Ollivander finds herself accepting a position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Soon she discovers that there is a deeper reason of her teaching at Hogwarts than just to be close to Dumbledore, the reason becomes saving Severus Snape. Death Eaters need not always be alone in their heroic deceit. Hope and healing for Snape promised :) rated M for graphic violence, dark themes and healing romance.
*considered AU since Snape lives...
I couldn't resist doing a little thing of my own with our favorite page number :) enjoy...
J.K. Rowling owns HP. I own OC and the plot. thanks :)
Alone No More
CHAPTER ONE: page 394
1
"Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four" The demand came from the professor standing rather severely at the head of the classroom. The manner of which the professor presented themselves did not give one the idea they enjoyed being there. Revulsion and disgust seemed to permeate across their stiff shoulders and settle in the meticulous way they had crossed their arms. The voice did little to unfrighten the students as to the professors dark appearance. From a distance the professor seemed to be wearing an outfit entirely composed of black material. But as one got over the unusual sight they began to notice the fabric to be in fact a deep smoldering violet.
The only item of clothing that was not violet were the high heeled black leather boots that came to just below the professor's knee. From then on every item was enchantingly deep violet, the stockings, skirt, vest and collared shirt. The oversized cloak billowed out importantly to one side, long curly golden blonde hair adorned the shoulders coming to rest at the crossed elbows. Piercing eyes of violet surveyed the classroom with an arrogance that took the students self confidence and popped it like a party balloon.
The classroom was huge. A cavernous ceiling loomed above, illuminated by several candle chandeliers, large expanses of wall surrounded the desks punctuated by large, tall shuttered windows. A the front of the classroom was a raised platform against the wall, with a desk and podium, a door and a wide chalkboard along the front wall of the classroom. There in front of the desk stood the low but clearly speaking instructor, "Who can tell me the difference between an Animagus and a Werewolf?" the professor sneered at the class, surveying the terror on their faces.
Fidgeting seemed to be the only reply to the uncomfortable topic adorning page three hundred and ninety-four, until a certain insufferable know-it-all from Gryffindor spoke up.
"Professor, we are not supposed to cover Werewolves until -." Hermione Granger spoke up, upon raising her hand for quite some time.
"SILENCE!" The professor screeched, "Twenty points from Gryffindor Miss Granger."
Again, an uncomfortable silence followed the professors distain-filled voice. Miss Granger again rose her hand, earning a groan from her best friends, Harry and Ron. "Animagi can decide when they change into an animal, Werewolves cannot. They change under the full moon." Hermione again spoke out of turn.
"Do you have an ill-habit of speaking out of turn or do you just wish to appear among your peers as an insufferable know-it-all?" The professor asked coldly.
At this, Hermione's eager smile faded and she contemplated the professor's remark, her brow furrowing with the effort.
"Twenty points more from Gryffindor, and yes Miss Granger, you are correct."
"Geez, Hermione!" Ron whined, earning a deathly glare from Miss Granger herself, and an elbow poke in the ribs from Harry.
The Professor then turned to the class. "I am Professor Lumora Ollivander, master of Defense Against the Dark Arts. I will be instilling upon you the necessary knowledge to defend yourselves since we know Voldemort is at large."
A gasp tore through the room like wild fire. Whispers were heard like, "Ollivander, like the wand maker?" and "did she just say V-voldemort?" The students also couldn't help, "She's Snape, but she's a girl!"
"Since you do not seem to possess the ardor for learning that Miss Granger does, an essay on this very topic shall do nicely. Two rolls of parchment on my desk no later than Monday." Again the professor's tone did not change, the harshness seemed to come naturally.
Groans of disappointment engulfed the class. "Awww, but it's Quidditch tomorrow Professor-" Harry began.
"Then I suggest you be extra careful, Mister Potter. Loss of limb will not excuse you, PAGE 394." Professor Ollivander turned to the chalk board and began writing, "Were wolves, contrary to the ignorant belief, are not an animagus. They are..."
The rest of the class seemed to go rather smoothly as Lumora's voice filled the classroom with its booming timbre. A quick check of her watch noted that class was coming to a close.
"Please gather your books. Enjoy your weekend. Do not forget about your essay and enjoy the Quidditch match tomorrow. That is all." As Professor Ollivander spoke the students hurried to gather their things and literally run from the room.
Professor Severus Snape had been absent for the first week of school because He was a fool. No one refuses the Dark Lord, not even his 'prized' double agent. Severus' refusal hinged on the unnerving fact that the woman sentenced to die, resembled Lily Potter. Lily Potter, the woman that, no matter how much he tried, he could never blame for his current state of employment. Eventually He complied, gritting his teeth against the scream of anguish caught in his throat. Voldemort, sure to never show any mercy, used the cruciatus as a cruel reminder of his absolute power.
Hatred had become one of his favorite pastimes. The energy of hate gave meaning to his eyes opening, day after day after day. The cruciatus, how he hated that curse with every cell in his body. Over exposure had terrible side effects, lasting for days on end, leaving him utterly useless as the pain wracked his body. No one but that old biddy Pomfrey had witnessed the terrible tremors that wracked his limbs and torso. The pain burned like fire, sometimes he wished it would just get on with it and consume him.
Weakness. That's what was so disgusting about the whole affair. His body's reaction to the curse was maddening. Being in absolute control of his emotions, thoughts and reactions was his way of protecting himself from the follies of life. The life of a spy did not warrant foolery. Too many times had he been left to pick up the pieces of his heart, body and soul, alone.
He stood outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. His journey through the castle halted by the irritating display before him. He watched in rye amusement the students leaving the classroom, seemingly fleeing for their lives. His brow-furrowed in confusion. Students only left his classroom that way. Curious as to whom the students so quickly departed from, Severus impatiently waited for the stream of students to stop then stepped in the doorway.
Erasing the board was a curiously rare blonde witch. Her hair was not white as was customary in the wizarding world, but a golden color, shimmering in the candlelight.
Lumora could smell the man at the door way, his presence seemed to tickle her senses with electricity. Excited to see who this alpha-male was, she slowly turned to face him, crossing her arms below her breasts, keeping her face smooth and her eyes deep and prying.
Snape was taken aback. She was rather tall, but admirably curvy. He noticed that she did not wear the customary teaching robes that McGonagall and the other woman wore at Hogwarts. Her get up seemed to resemble his but exchanged a pair of pants for a flattering mid-thigh length skirt and stockings along with the absence of a jacket replaced with a smartly cut vest. A slight smirk played at the corner of his lips, he wondered if Dumbledore knew she was wearing that. Now that he thought about it, she looked like a Death Eater, except there were no blonde female Death Eaters.
"Can I help you," Lumora asked the dark cloaked stranger. Suddenly she realized she had seen him before. A Death Eater? Well, yes, but this wasn't just any man. This was her former Potions Master. "Professor Snape?"
Snape entered the classroom, using his strong, long stride to quickly put the desks to his back. Lumora dusted off her hands on a white rag on the corner of the podium. Snape's mind raced, who did this woman think she was? He would have remembered that hair and those piercing eyes.
He didn't even move a muscle. His eyes continued to sear into her own.
"I was informed Potions was being taught by Professor Severus Snape. I was also informed that the Potions master was unavailable the first week of school. Naturally I have met all of the other professors," She gave him a challenging smile, "except you, of course."
"And you are?"
"Lumora Ollivander, master of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Yes, before you ask, I am the granddaughter of Ollivander the sixth." She finished, turning away from him to fling open the window as, what Severus identified to be, her owl tapped at the window. The bird that flew in the window was no owl. A black eagle flew to his mistress' arm, resting on her forearm with power and grace. "And this beautiful creature is Elliott." He noticed that she was wearing a thick leather arm guard to protect against the razor sharp talons. Snape admired her strength as she took the roll of parchment from the eagle's leg and let him stay on her arm as she set the message on her desk. Ever the master spy, he did not let any admiration touch his face.
"Black Eagles are rare, Professor Ollivander. You are fortunate to own such a beautiful creature."
She nodded, "Now that we have met, I need to ask you for a favor." She paused to scan the message, then crumpled it in her hand, feeding it to the candle on her desk, "I was informed that the students had a dueling club when Gilderoy Lockhart was here. You were a part of that yes?" she asked with a raise of her brow.
Snape gave a slight nod. He had moved to stand closer to her desk as she had moved from the window back to the podium. He noticed her outfit was actually a deep violet, almost black, but enchantingly violet.
"Perfect. I trust you would not object a chance to show up another Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"
"No."
"Very well, club will begin at 7 o'clock." With that she lifted her forearm, letting the eagle fly to its perch above the window. "I need to make a few preparations before supper. If you'll excuse me."
"Certainly."
Then she changed right before him. One moment she stood facing the window, the next an eagle the exact unique color of her robes, perched on the window sill. Then in a blur of wings, was gone. Shock iced his features, which he quickly scraped off with a sneer. He quickly glanced around, ensuring that there were not prying eyes to see his falter in composure, and went behind the desk. He peered out the window and watched the eagle make a lazy circle above the opposite tower before it dove down out of sight. Master spy or not, Snape found himself intrigued by this witch. His stomach reminded him that supper was still to be had, and he gritted his teeth against the little voice inside his head, "She couldn't possibly want anything to do with you." The voice continued in his signature cold disdain, "Might as well give up now Snape, she is a flame that would burn you to cinders." That was the last straw, "Silence!" He bellowed to the empty classroom. The lack of noise in return satisfied his bruised pride for the moment.
Taking his leave of the deserted classroom, he mused, "Professor McGonagall would do well to learn we have a predator in our midst."
Dearest Readers,
I couldn't resist the last line :) please review and let me know what you think! up next is "problem"
xoxo
Lumora The White