Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: So I only recently became a fan of Harry Potter, crazy I know, but I didn't read the books or see the movies when I was a kid. But I've finally taken the plunge and I really enjoyed them. Obviously, my favorite character is Snape, LOL. Now I will be working closely in canon, but there will be some changes as it goes on. I also will use both the books and the films as my inspiration. I hope you enjoy it.


The Chronicles of Severus Snape

Part I: Severus Snape and the Unexpected Gift

Chapter 1: The Nurse at Hogwarts

Severus Snape didn't glance out the window of the train as it weaved its way towards Hogwarts. As a child he'd taken this same train, each click on the tracks a memory, some good, some bad. He kept his focus on the book in his hand. It did no good thinking about those days, full of bitter regrets and stinging guilt. He continued to read through Studies on Dementors, ignoring everything else around him. Elsewhere on the train, the other professors were chatting over tea, talking about their plans for the new school year or the gossip going around Diagon Alley. No one bothered to ask Snape about his opinions on any of it; they all knew better by now.

There was the rustle of the cart as it moved down the aisle, but Snape never glanced at it. He was reading about the Dementor's Kiss when he heard someone in the compartment across from him ask for a Honeymead Dark Chocolate. Snape lifted his head from his book and looked at the empty seat across from him. For a moment, he was eleven years old again, absolutely drowning in his new school robes. Lily was bouncing on the seat beside him, eagerly drinking in everything out the window as the train rattled on. The snack cart came by, the woman asking them with a warm smile if they wanted anything. He had just enough money to buy a Honeymead Dark Chocolate, but Lily was short, still used to Muggle money rather than wizard currency. She looked wistfully as the cart rolled by, unable to savor any of the sweet. Severus had broken his candy bar in half, offering her the slightly bigger portion. Lily's face had lit up with that dazzling smile of hers. It was worth all of the chocolate in the world just to see her smile.

A loud whistle from the train brought him back to present. Lily was dead. Her smiles were gone. Even if she were alive, she would never have smiled at him again. Just another painful reminder that Severus Snape was never wanted by anyone. He returned to his book, desperately reading each line to keep his old ghosts from haunting him more.

At last, the train stopped just outside of Hogwarts. He could already see the carriages with the thestrals waiting outside. He never asked how many of the other professors could see the beasts hitched outside, but he'd seen plenty of death ten years ago, odds were he was not alone. Severus stuffed his book inside of the pocket of his robe and reached for his suitcase at the top of the compartment. The rest of his bags would be unloaded later and sent to his usual room. He was on his way out of his compartment when something hard smacked him on the side of his head. He gritted his teeth at the bit of pain, hearing a gasp. "Merlin's teeth, I'm so sorry, Professor Snape."

He gingerly tested the spot just above his ear, deciding it wasn't too bad, just a slight bruise that thankfully would be covered by his hair. He snapped his eyes towards the idiot, expecting it to be Sprout or Trelawney, but to his surprise it was an entirely new face. She was wearing a light blue traveling coat with a matching hat. She wore a grey skirt and he could see a lavender blouse peeking out from the collar of her coat. Her hair was blonde and riot of thick curls that fell around her shoulders. She was shorter than he was, barely reaching his shoulders. She looked up at him with large hazel eyes, a mixture of grey, blue and green. He couldn't turn away from those eyes, the prickle of familiarity there but he was unable to place just how he knew them.

"My suitcase got caught on something," she explained, holding up the case so he could see for himself. "I hope I didn't hurt you too much."

"I'll be fine. Try not to bash anyone else's head in," he warned her. She was clearly new to the staff here, and he briefly thought of asking her what she was doing at Hogwarts. However, the way her lips curled suggested she would take any question as an opening to begin a conversation, something he had no intention whatsoever of doing. Instead, he moved past her, being sure to avoid her troublesome suitcase again.

It was a relief to be back in his room and his office, shut away from the rest of the school. Truth be told, he didn't dislike any of the professors, though Flitwick could be exceedingly annoying at times. However, none of them had ever really forgiven him for joining the Death Eaters all of those years ago. Snape slowly pulled down the sleeve of his robe, eyeing the faded Dark Mark. He wouldn't forgive himself either, truth be told. The mark was worse than a scar, it was an omen. As long as it stayed faded red, things would be well. But it was still there, a reminder that though weak, the Dark Lord was still alive…and waiting.

Dinner the first night was always held after a brief staff meeting. The school was rather eerie without any students, truth be told, but sometimes he preferred the solitude. There was security it being alone. The other professors were all there, including Quirrell, much to his annoyance. Dumbledore still refused him the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts with no explanation yet again. Quivering Quirrell as they called him in school probably couldn't face a pixie let alone teach students how to prepare for a future war.

Severus took his usual place at the table, next to McGonagall. She nodded at him in greeting which was plenty for him. He didn't say a word to any of the other staff, not that they had much time. Dumbledore strode in just then, still wearing his grey robes and cap. He smiled broadly at them all as they all stood. "Please, please, sit down. I'm happy to have you all here for another year at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore sat in his chair and everyone else quickly followed. "Are the rumors of the return of the Triwizard Tournament true?" McGonagall asked.

"From what I've heard, the Ministry of Magic is still considering it. It certainly will not be this year," Dumbledore said. "Now before we begin, I'd like to introduce new members of our staff. First we have Professor Quirinius Quirrell, our new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher."

Quirrell stood slowly, giving a nervous wave as everyone clapped for him. "Most of you remember him from when he served as Professor of Muggle Studies. I'm happy to welcome him back from his sabbatical."

Severus clapped without any vigor. It seemed that long journey hadn't toughened Quirrell up at all, just given him a rather ridiculous turban.

Quirrell sat back down once the clapping died down. Dumbledore smiled down at someone further down the table. "Now, I'd like to introduce a new addition to our hospital, Nursing Sister Anastasia Thornwood."

Severus looked down to see the little blonde woman on the train now standing. She wore a grey nursing dress with a little white apron and cap. She smiled at everyone, blushing prettily. "Sister Thornwood graduated Hogwarts at the top of her class. She was training nurse at St. Mungo's before returning here to serve under Madame Pomfrey. I'm sure she will be an excellent addition to our staff."

Everyone continued to clap at her, but Severus just stared. She was young, young enough to have been one of his students. He never really thought about what became of them after they left Hogwarts, truth be told. None of his former pupils dared to look him in the eye, even if he saw them at Daigon Alley or elsewhere. Yet, just as this thought crossed his mind, Sister Thornwood looked across the table directly at him. She gave him a smile before sitting down, never once breaking her gaze. Somehow, this disturbed him far more than anything he'd ever witnessed from Voldemort.


Hogwarts was exactly as Ana remembered it, though it was a bit too quiet with no students around yet. Right now she was just going over stock and making sure everything was in order. Once the students arrived, especially when Quidditch started, there would be far more to do.

She was counting out their stock of unicorn hair bandages when she heard the door to the hospital open. Dumbledore walked in followed by Madam Pomfrey who was still in her traveling robes. "Ah, I thought you would be here," he said, "Madam Pomfrey, this is the new nurse I told you about, Sister Anastasia Thornwood."

Madam Pomfrey looked her over carefully so much that Ana wondered if she was using legilimancy. "Yes, Professor Dumbledore told me all about you, though he didn't say you were so young. When did you graduate?"

"1989," she said, "But don't let my age discourage you. I graduated as Head Girl here and I finished my training at St. Mungo's in less than two years. The head healer gave me a wonderful reference."

"Indeed," Dumbledore broke in to say, "Healing is in her blood. She's a direct descendent of Helena Beathan."

Madam Pomfrey's brows rose and a smile curved her lips. "Impressive." She looked back at Dumbledore and said, "I see, you're trying to make me obsolete with resurrections."

"Oh I wouldn't dream of it," he said with a chuckle.

"Well, I think Sister Thornwood and I will get along just fine."

"Oh, do please call me Ana," she said and held out her hand for Madam Pomfrey to shake.

"Poppy," she replied back.

"Well, now that you two have gotten to know each other, I'm superfluous," Dumbledore said with a smile, "I'll see you both at dinner later."

"Thank you, Albus," Poppy told him before he walked out the door. She turned back around with an eager smile on her face. "Now that it's just the two of us, we can gab."

Ana giggled and nodded, quickly putting away the bandages and then perched herself on an empty bed. "I'm so excited to be back at Hogwarts."

"I have to admit being surprised a pretty young thing like you would want to come back to a school she only left three years ago."

Ana smiled and shrugged. "Hogwarts is like my home. I missed it."

Poppy nodded as she put away her coat and hat. "Still, I'm sure St. Mungo's had far more excitement than healing broken wrists after Quidditch."

"After dealing with a quarantine for cerebrumous spattergroit, I could use a little less excitement."

"Oh say no more," Poppy said, waving one hand and nodded in agreement. She waved her wand and swapped her travel clothes for her normal nursing uniform. "So what interests you most in healing?"

"Spells, of course," Ana said, "But I've always had a passion for potions as well."

"Ah, well that will certainly be useful. I'm much handier with spells and transfiguration than potions." She used her wand to order up a tray of tea and biscuits for them to share. She poured them each a cup, offering Ana cream and sugar. "So, have you met all of the staff yet?"

"Well, I knew them from when I was student," Ana reminded her and took a biscuit, "But I'm sure it will be different when I'm not having to worry about passing their classes or avoiding Filch so I don't get caught after curfew."

Poppy chuckled at that. "Yes, well you should know that Minerva loves strawberries, so you'd best give up getting any of those at breakfast. If you want to stay on Filch's good side, go through his cat."

"I knew that one already," Ana said.

"Yes and I would just stay away from Professor Snape. You can't crack that stone."

"Really?" she asked before taking a sip of her tea, "Nobody likes him?"

"Hmm," Poppy mused. She took a bite out of another cookie, swallowing before she continued, "It's not that no one likes him, it's just he's not a very sociable man. It's hard to make friends with someone who spends most of his time down in the dungeons alone."

"Maybe someone just hasn't reached out to him yet."

"Humph," Poppy grunted and poured herself a cup of tea, "The day that man makes a friend, I'll eat my hat."


September 1st arrived soon enough which meant another school year and another batch of first years was about to arrive. This shouldn't be any different from any of the other ten years Severus Snape had witnessed, but there was one big change: Harry Potter was going to arrive.

It had been relatively easy to ignore the boy since he hadn't laid eyes on him since that night Lily and James had died. He had barely looked at the baby, his focus solely on the dead woman he had loved. Now he couldn't help but wonder how much the boy was like his mother…or his father. All he knew was that he had Lily's eyes.

The older students would be arriving soon under the direction of their prefects, but at the moment it was only the staff, minus McGonagall and Hagrid. Quirrell was still wearing that odd purple turban; apparently it was a gift from an African prince though he wondered if perhaps the prince just wanted to get rid of the eyesore.

The ghosts had dropped in just as the older students began to file in. He gave the Blood Baron a brief nod, but the ghost had to quickly chase off Peeves before the poltergeist yanked the tablecloth off of the Slytherin table. The new nurse walked in with Madam Pomfrey, but she broke free to hurry to where the Fat Friar was talking to some of the Hufflepuff students.

"Friar, it's so good to see you again," she said.

"Oh, little Ana!" the ghost said rapturously, "How marvelous to see you again. Hufflepuff House has missed you so."

Ah, so new girl was a Hufflepuff. Well that told him everything he needed to know about her. Now he couldn't help but wonder how she'd managed to graduate at the top of her class as Dumbledore had said. He tried to think back, but he still couldn't remember her at all. Granted, he rarely thought about his former students.

A smile lit up her face when she saw him through the shade of the Friar. "Oh, Professor Snape, isn't this exciting."

"I've seen Sortings for ten years," he reminded her coolly.

"Nine, you weren't a professor yet until November when I was first sorted," she corrected him.

It was the first time someone had corrected him in ten years. Severus was beginning to believe it wasn't that he couldn't remember this girl, but that he'd blocked her from his mind. Clearly she had been one of those know-it-all students that never ceased to annoy him. He just turned around and walked to his place beside Quirrell without saying another word to her.

Sister Thornwood took a seat at the end by Madam Pomfrey and he was determined to ignore her for the rest of the year. What made it easier was the arrival of the first years with Professor McGonagall marching before them. The Sorting Hat was already perched on the stool, lifeless at the moment. It popped up once McGonagall, singing a new Sorting Song like it did every year. Then it was time for the first student to be sorted.

He could still remember when Lily was perched on that stool and the hat placed on her red hair. He had stood in line, begging for it to call out Slytherin, the very house he wanted to be in since it was his mother's house. His heart had sunk down to his shoes when it has loudly proclaimed "Gryffindor!" He had been torn after that of being in the house of his wizard lineage and a new desire to join Lily at her new table. Yet he was sorted into Slytherin while James Potter got to sit next to Lily and begin his pursuit of her.

The sorting began and students cheered when new members joined their houses. The life of first years grew shorter and shorter. Truth be told, for a teacher it was a rather dull affair until Professor McGonagall called out, "Harry Potter."

Everyone went quiet as the young boy walked up towards the stool. He finally got his first look at him and it was like being sent back into the past. He looked just like James, with that same untidy black hair, round glasses, and square shoulders. If he had the same arrogant smile they would be twins. The only thing he could see of Lily was his eyes. They were just like hers, large and green. If only the rest of her were here.

He sat down on the stool and McGonagall dropped the hat onto his head. Everyone held their breath and waited. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Sister Thornwood leaning closer in her chair, her eyes locked in on the boy. Then the hat rang out, "Gryffindor!"

What a surprise. Severus rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat. Of course James' son would be in the same house. By tomorrow he'd be roaming the school like he owned the place, snatching books out of students' hands and hexing them so warts grew on their noses.

Sister Thornwood was like all of the rest, staring intently at the boy as he made his way to the Gryffindor table. He shouldn't have expected more from a Hufflepuff. Well, at least he was in a place to make sure Lily's son didn't become like his father, puffed up with grandeur. He may be an eleven-year-old celebrity, but he would make sure the boy realized he wasn't as good as anyone else in this school.


The first week of school was as chaotic as it always was. The students were still eager from their summer break, prone to mischief and not in the right mindset to truly dive in to their work. Worst still, his first class had been with Fred and George Weasley. While brilliant with potions if they put their minds to it, they were prone to extreme boredom that often resulted in explosions. He'd spent much of the week deducting points from the various houses by the time Friday rolled around.

It was double potions day with the first years of Gryffindor and Slytherin. Not only would he have to keep an eye on the Malfoy boy per Dumbledore's instructions, but Potter would be in this class. It would definitely be interesting to see if he had his mother's proclivity for potions or his father's haughty disdain for anything that didn't require sweeping wand waves. He was betting on the latter.

Severus burst into the classroom, causing many of the students to jump in front of their cauldrons. "There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to enjoy the subtle science and exact art that is potion making."

He reached the front of the classroom, gazing at each on their vacant expressions. There were usually only a handful of students who had a true gift for potions. Suprisingly, Malfoy was actually staring at him with new interest. Perhaps Lucias had told him to try and butter him up. "However, for those select few who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death."

The scratching of a quill on parchment pricked his ears. His gaze fell away from Malfoy and landed squarely on Potter, Merlin knew what he was writing. "Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confidant enough to not...pay...attention."

The Granger girl nudged at the boy in the ribs with her elbow and he finally looked up. Severus was lost for a moment in those green eyes, Lily's eyes. Dumbledore had been right; they were just like hers exactly. But it wasn't the same. The way he looked at him blankly reminded him too much of James.

"Mr. Potter," he said coolly, "Our new celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" The girl's hand shot up, waving around in the air, but Potter only shrugged. "You don't know? Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"

"I don't know, sir," he said.

The Granger girl kept stretching her arm up, but he ignored her.

"And what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfbane?"

Now the girl was holding her arm up so high he was certain she was about to touch the ceiling. Another know-it-all.

"I don't know, sir."

"Pity," he said with relish, "Clearly fame isn't everything, Mr. Potter."

An impertinent look flashed across his face, one Severus had seen many times before in his youth. "Cleary Hermione knows; it would be a pity not to ask her."

Yes, he was just like his father all right. Arrogant cheek and a disdain for those in charge all rolled up into one boy eager for glory. The students began to giggle until Snape hissed out, "Silence."

He stared down at Potter for several moments before he made he way to where the boy was sitting. The Granger girl still had her arm up, though he doubted she could feel it anymore. "Put you hand down you silly girl," he told her.

Severus grabbed a spare stool and dragged it over so he was sitting directly in front of Potter. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite."

Potter said nothing. He just stared back at him with the same disdain as his father had. The air around them was completely silent. "Well," he said without taking his eyes off of his old enemy's son, "Why aren't you all copying this down?"

Immediately there was the tinkling sound of quills being dipped into inkpots and the scratching of the words being written on parchment. He stood up from his stool and whirled around to return to his desk, picking up his own quill. "And Gryffindors, note that five points will be taken from your house for your classmate's cheek."

He couldn't deny that it felt good being able to put a Potter in his place.

The class continued and proved that the batch of first years was as incompetent as the last year's bunch, especially the Gryffindors. Neville Longbottom proved to be particularly ridiculous, melting another student's cauldron and sending his mixture everywhere. He didn't pity the boy when he broke out in boils, just sent him away to the hospital wing and deducted more points for competence.

The students were back to their potions when there was a knock on the door. "Enter," he ordered without looking up from the burn on Crabbe's arm that was oozing yellow puss.

"Oh, Professor Snape, I apologize for interrupting your class," Sister Thornwood said, smiling at him again. Did she regularly drink Tincture of Joy?

"Why are you here?" he asked coolly.

"The hospital's stock of solanacae has rotted and Professor Sprout doesn't have any that have matured yet. I was hoping you might have some I could borrow."

He lifted one brow, sensing an opportunity to best himself over the students again, even a former student. "Well, this is an opportune moment. Who can tell me what solanacae is?"

Hermione Granger's hand shot up again, but so did Malfoy's. He selected him to answer of course. "It's nightshade," he said.

"Excellent, five points for Slytherin. And can you tell me what reason Sister Thornwood would be in need of nightshade?"

"Well…it's used in poisons," Malfoy said.

Sister Thornwood shook her head and laughed. "I would be a pretty terrible nurse if I was trying to poison someone. But Miss Granger still has her hand up, what do you think I could be needing nightshade for?"

Severus snapped his head around to glare at her, but the nurse paid him no mind. Granger put her hand down and said, "Nightshade, while a deadly poison, has magical properties that can relieve sever muscle spasms caused by poor transfiguration."

"Very good, Miss Granger," Sister Thornwood congratulated her, "A third year was trying their hand at an animagus and it went poorly." She looked over at Snape now and said; "I think you should give Gryffindor some points for that."

He glowered at her suggestion. "Class, Sister Thornwood here is rumored to be gifted in potions. I wonder, just how much do you remember?"

She lifted her chin in challenge. "I'm willing to test my mettle."

"What potion requires fairy wings, doxy eggs, and dragon thoraxes?"

"Girding potion," she answered promptly.

"How do you make Dragon Tonic?"

"An Eagle Owl feather, three peacock feathers, and three warts from a Giant Purple Toad," Sister Thornwood said.

Damn, he hadn't expected her to know that one. Well, he would just have turn things up a notch. "What will you get if you combine, flobberworm mucus, three newt eyes, dragon dung, and aramadillo bile?"

Sister Thornwood wrinkled her pert nose and shook her head. "Something horrid to throw at your enemies I would imagine since there is no potion like that."

The students all let out titters of laughter and nudged each other. "Silence," he barked at them again, still smarting at her. "Well, since you claim to be a professional healer, what potion would you recommend for Mr. Crabbe's injury here?"

Sister Thornwood walked around the desks to stand beside him. She knelt down and he got a wave of lavender and fresh linen that washed over him. It was a rather pleasant aroma, but he shook it away.

"Hmm, did you bust a beaker of Shrake Spines?"

"Yes," the boy said.

"Well, then the wound is instantly infected. I'm sure Professor Snape would recommend a tincture of willowbark."

"Oh?" Snape questioned, "And you wouldn't?"

"No, I recommend a philter of black toadstools."

"Black toadstools are highly poisonous, something I'm sure Miss Granger could tell you."

"True," Sister Thornwood said, straightening up, "But I add hypodrop nectar to leech out the poison. Shall I show you?"

Apparently the question was superfluous because she helped herself to an empty cauldron and immediately began pulling ingredients from his stores. "First, I grind up the toadstools in the mortar," she said and promptly began to pulverize them. "Then I put them in the cauldron and low heat before adding the hypodrop nectar. Then I slowly bring up the heat until it starts to bubble."

The students were all leaning forward to watch as she used her wand to bring up the heat slowly. A few were even copying down her instructions. Once it was bubble and a light grey steam was rising from the mixture, she poured the mixture into a strainer. She discarded the dregs and then added two squirts of neem oil. She used her wand to clean the cauldron and then poured the mixture back into it. She put in some wiggentree bark shavings and then two sprigs of silverweed. She used her wand to stir the brew until it began to steam purple smoke. She poured it into a flask when she was done.

"Now, I'm going to dab this on the wound, if you don't mind. It might sting a bit."

Severus looked over at his stock to make sure he had a bezoar in case this went poorly. Crabbe flinched when the purple liquid trickled onto the cut. The pus began to froth and hiss, but then it faded away. She continued to dab gently at the cut until it was a faded pink line. "There, all better."

He couldn't help but stare at the boy's freshly healed wound. The willowbark would have healed it too, but not nearly as quickly. The students all clapped and chattered, smiling and pointing at her success. Sister Thornwood corked the flask and held it out for her Severus to take. "For you, in case you need it again."

He gave her a scathing look, waving his hand so the jar of nightshade whisked off of the shelf and thrust it towards her. "If you're done, I have a class to teach."

"She should teach this class," he heard Ron Weasley whisper to Potter. He answered him by taking the boy's notebook and thumping him on the head with it.

"I appreciate your compliment," Sister Thornwood said to Weasley who was rubbing at his head, "But I did learn everything from Professor Snape." Then, as if she hadn't just thoroughly destroyed his lesson plans, she smiled back at Severus and said, "Thank you, Professor. I'll return the solanacae when I'm finished."

She turned around and walked out of the door, the smell of lavender following her. The students were still chattering and gesturing to their notes and the flask now perched on Weasley's desk.

"Back to work," Snape ordered them, "If everyone hasn't finished by the end of the period, it will mean detention."

Immediately, they all went back to their cauldrons and started brewing again. Severus picked up the flask, tempted to toss it away in disgust, but the recognition of a well-made potion won out in the end. He slipped it onto the shelf by his desk, determined to try and see if he could improve it later. He wouldn't let Sister Thornwood best him, not in his own potions class.


Severus couldn't pinpoint when his almost weekly meetings with Dumbledore began, perhaps back when he was still serving as his spy in Voldemort's camp. Yet now they mostly served as weekly discussions about the school, the students, and any news about possible sightings of Voldemort. Aside from the wine Dumbledore served, little of value took place. Still, he would never admit he had come to enjoy the company of the headmaster.

But today, Severus wasn't able to calm himself with wine. Friday's potion's class had spread throughout the school. All of the students were buzzing about how the new nurse had bested Professor Snape and that Harry Potter had arrogantly defied him. Even dead, James Potter was still ruling the school from beyond the grave.

It all started with Dumbledore simply inquiring about why he'd been so inclined to deduct so many points from Gryffindor in one lesson. Dumbledore didn't question him so much, just looked at him over his copy of Transfiguration Today.

"— mediocre, arrogant as his father, a determined rule- breaker, delighted to find himself famous, attention-seeking and impertinent —"

"You see what you expect to see, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly, "Other teachers report that the boy is modest, likable, and reasonably talented. Personally, I find him an engaging child."

Severus rolled his eyes, having expected nothing less. Dumbledore was always soft on the students, especially the Gryffindors. Dumbledore turned page in his magazine and said, "Keep and eye on Quirrell, won't you?"

"Whatever for?"

"Filch caught him skulking around the third floor earlier.

The third floor? Severus stopped in his pacing and looked back at him. "You can't mean he intends to go for the stone, do you?"

"When you've lived as long as I have, you learn not to underestimate anyone."

"But Quirrell? He's so…malleable."

"Which would make him an ideal target for Voldemort," Dumbledore said.

"Do you think he's serving him now?"

Dumbledore at last closed his magazine and looked him in the eye. "All I know is when Quirrell went on his sabbatical, he went to Albania which is where I'd heard rumors that Voldemort may have vanished to. Now he has returned after only a year…I'm suspicious is all. I could be wrong."

"You don't think you are though," Severus said. After working with the man for ten years, he'd learned when Dumbledore had a suspicion and just a mere hunch. This was no mere hunch. "Why did you hire him back then?"

"Where else to keep a closer watch on him than under my nose? If he is serving Voldemort, I'd rather enclose him here than engage him outside."

"What am I supposed to do then?" Severus asked.

"Like I said, keep an eye on him."

"That could risk my cover."

Dumbledore took up his cup and took another swallow of wine. "At the moment, Voldemort is too weak to pay any mind to you. Is your mark still faded?"

Instinctively he clamped his hand over the mark on his arm. "Yes," he said.

"Then when the time comes where you must take up your mantle as his servant again, you'll explain that you had no idea Quirrell was serving him and that you thought it expedient to continue to serve me. He'll care more for what information you have on me than bearing a grudge against you for holding Quirrell back."

That wasn't much comfort, but at the same time he couldn't deny the logic. He couldn't very well knock on Quirrell's door and ask if he was serving Lord Voldemort. No, once again, the old man was best in this. He would observe him carefully for now.

"You are certainly risky with your hires," Severus said, "A possible servant of the Dark Lord and a nurse barely out of school."

Dumbledore chuckled a little and rose from his chair to refill his cup. "Severus, others said the same when I hired you after Slughorn left us. As for Sister Thornwood, I think she proved she was quite competent at her job."

He glared mutinously at the wizard who only gazed back in amusement over his goblet of wine. "Why did you hire her to begin with?"

"Madam Pomfrey requested more help and she was the best suited for the post. Quite honestly, the director of St. Mungo's was begging me not to steal her away."

"Perhaps you should have let her stay there then," he sneered.

"Come now, Severus, you should have taken it as a compliment. It was you who trained her in potions to begin with."

"She has an odd way of thanking me then." Dumbledore chuckled again and shook his head at him. "What's so amusing this time?"

"I was just thinking about my interview with her is all."

"Oh? Is that what impressed you? Her ability to tell a good joke?"

"No, actually, I asked her who her favorite teacher here was. She said it was you."

Severus stiffened, his dark eyes widening and his mouth dropping open for a moment. "What?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said over his cup, "I had a similar reaction."

Severus pinched his mouth together and scowled. "She must have been lying."

"Why would she do that?"

"Because she wanted to be amusing."

"I assure you, she was quite serious. She said you inspired a passion for the art of potions and challenged her to seek out ways to improve her skills."

"That's…that's…" he couldn't think of a word to say to that. Preposterous? Impossible? Ludicrous?

"I was very curious myself what you did to inspire her so," Dumbledore admitted, "I even went through her old school records. You have her very high marks, but I couldn't find any actual notes that said you favored her in some way. Do you have any idea?"

"I don't even remember her," he grumbled back.

"A pity, clearly you left an impression on her," Dumbledore said, "Perhaps you should ask her what you did."

"I'm not going to ask her anything. She can bloody well keep her nose out of my business and that will make me happy."

"Happy?" the old wizard questioned, "Would it now?"

That was true. Severus Snape hadn't been happy in a very long time. Truth be told, he couldn't really remember the feeling all that well other then his time with Lily when they were young. Perhaps happiness was only meant for the young, or simply never meant for the likes of him.

"Give her a chance, Severus," Dumbledore said, "You might find you enjoy her company. Perhaps she likes you."

"Nobody likes me."

"Oh now I'm hurt," Dumbledore said.

"You don't count."

"And why not?"

"Because you need me," Severus said.

"True, very true, and you may not be the friendliest man I know, but I do admire your loyalty. I trust you know that."

He did, but he was never very good at holding on to friendships. But Dumbledore knew his greatest secret and had never spoke of it to anyone. He did trust him; trust him completely. It was the closest thing to friendship he knew since Lily.

So he gave the man a nod and Dumbledore smiled. He picked up the second cup and filled it, holding it out to Severus, "Now, I am considering increasing the security around the stone."

"How, exactly?"

"I haven't decided yet, but you'll definitely have a role to play."

"How exciting," Severus said, taking a long sip of the elf wine. It was going to be an interesting year not only with dealing with a Potter again, but guarding the stone and dealing with an impertinent nurse. Perhaps Dumbledore had done all of this on purpose just to keep him on his toes. One could never put anything past the old wizard.