The Prince & the Professor

Disclaimer – Of course I do not own Harry Potter and if I made money off of this do you imagine that I'd write so infrequently?

Author's Note – Severus's first day in the future. I have set the 'levicorpus' incident BEFORE the Hogsmeade weekend rather than on the morning as it suits my storyline better. Please excuse any inconsistencies with the book as it is currently loaned out to someone else so I can't double-check. Anyone still in doubt about the pairing, take another look at the summary. Sorry about the time-lag, but university is not conducive to the writing of fanfiction.

Chapter Two – The Textbook

I open my eyes a fraction and stare up at the canopy of my bed, my vision still out of focus. What untold pleasure does today have in store, I wonder? Will I be turned a different colour, will my robes become transparent? I sigh, another glorious day in the life of Severus Snape, the half-blood Prince. I blink my eyes and sit up. I thought up that name before I came to Hogwarts, a child building castles in the air. The Prince never got thrashed by bullies; he always had a spell ready. None of the terrible things that regularly happen to me happen to him.

You see, the Prince is my ideal – everything I want to be, he is - powerful, brilliant and indestructible.

A loud snort knocks me back into the present - stupid Nott. I swear, one day I am going to slice off his nose.

I open my curtains. The face of Blaise Zabini stares at me from across the room.

Great Merlin, it was real.

I feel like leaping into the air, shouting for joy and hugging Zabini. Naturally, I do none of these things. I don't even vary my expression.

"Hey, Snape - you an early riser too?" Zabini asks, pulling his socks on.

I nod and lean over the end of my bed to reach for the trunk provided by the professor.

"Malfoy thinks getting up early is practically sacrilege. As for those two," he waves a hand in the direction of the other two beds, "you have to prod them awake with a big stick."

I shoot Zabini an answering smirk and make my way to the showers.

S.S – S.S – S.S – S.S – S.S

Hardly anyone's about yet in the Great Hall, two Hufflepuff boys, a Ravenclaw group and a Gryffindor girl. I'm not really breakfast fan – or a lunch or dinner fan now I think about it. Food just isn't that important to me.

I got up this early in my own time in order to avoid… unpleasantness.

Idly munching a piece of toast, I wonder about the day ahead. What will this different Hogwarts be like? Well, anything would be an improvement on the last one really.

"Snape!" Dear Merlin, it's Zabini again. He slides in next to me on the bench.

"I wanted to catch you before class – just a warning – you might find the Gryffindors rather hostile. You know; so be careful." I almost choke on my toast; the idea of anyone warning me of possible Gryffindor hostility is too ironic.

"I can take care of myself, Zabini."

He nods solemnly. "Good, now – what's your sign?"

"Excuse me?"

"Sun sign, zodiac and all that."

"Scorpio…" I answer warily.

He takes out a little book. "I don't take divination but this thing is a life-saver. Right, so… for today: 'Be wary of potential enemies, learn to quiet your inner frustrations; avoid unnecessary confrontations; do not go flying; you will meet a potential life-partner today so try to be at your best.' – well, there you are."

"That was a completely unexpected gesture, Zabini, I am touched and I am also leaving."

I stand up and sling my bag over my shoulder. Honestly, if these bags didn't have weight modifying charms, I'd be a wreck. And I was about to go see if I could find a couple more interesting books; see if I can "find" my way to the library.

Footsteps behind me, I whip out my wand. "Why are you following me?"

The Gryffindor girl from breakfast sighed impatiently, "I'm not. I'm just headed the same way." She shook her head.

Oh…

I don't respond, just keep heading up the staircase.

"Aren't you the person who appeared in Ron's cauldron?"

Clearly something I was going to have to get used to answering. "Yes," I snap, without turning round or slackening my pace. "And yes, I am related to Professor Snape."

She mumbles something I can't quite make out and we continue up the stairs, waiting on a landing for the right staircase to move into place.

"So," she says, "did you inherit Professor Snape's potion making abilities? Our class is really competitive."

My eyes follow the staircase as it moves toward us. "Wouldn't you like to know?" I say as we start up the final staircase.

"Well, I'll find out later, won't I?" and she pushed past me into the library.

Girls, I sigh.

Having browsed the library for almost two hours, thus making my satchel even more likely to split, I make my way to the first class: Defence Against the Dark Arts. Fortunately, it appears to still be held in the same classroom. Students line up against the wall, waiting. Quite a few give me curious looks, leaning over to whisper to their friends. Zabini waves me over. It's a little disconcerting.

"Hey, Snape, where've you been?"

"Getting therapy for my necrophilia, why do you ask?"

"Umm… are you -?"

I sigh, exasperated. "I was in the library."

"Oh, right – finding the advice helpful?"

"Indubitably; I won't survive without it now."

And on that rather low note our conversation was cut short by the arrival of Professor Snape. It's the second time I've seen him. The students go silent, clearly intimidated. He sweeps past us into the classroom, black robes billowing behind him. My mouth almost splits into a grin as I follow the others in. As I walk over to my desk (in the front row, apparently hardly anyone wants to go that close to the teacher's desk) I run over the list I tell myself before every class.

Do not show weakness

Do not draw unnecessary attention to yourself

Do not open yourself up to attack

I take a breath and sit down, pulling out my books. I look down at the textbook Professor Snape gave me earlier, as he begins the roll call. I get out a quill and open the back. Dipping my quill into my ink bottle I write,

'This book belongs to -'

"Severus Snape,"

'-The Half Blood Prince,'

"Present," I feel people stare in my direction and close the textbook, waiting idly for the Professor to finish the roll.

"Today we shall continue to practice non-verbal spell work," the Professor's eyes scan the class, "Though I doubt that certain students," I follow the Professor's sneer across to Harry Potter, "will ever master the intelligence required for the most basic silent charm."

The Slytherins titter unpleasantly. My chest feels tight. I feel like laughing and that fact is so shocking that the laughter dies in my throat. It's like I know what I'll get for Christmas in May and being able to watch myself enjoying the gift all year before I actually receive it. I curl my toes up inside my shoes and clamp my teeth together.

"So," the Professor continues, "I believe it is time we tried some non-verbal duels…He waves his wand and we are all forced onto our feet, the desks stacked in a corner. His liquid black eyes meet mine, 'Let's see what you make of Potter, shall we?'

"Potter and Snape, I think. Everyone else get out of the way."

I turn to look at Potter. Yes, I can see both Evans and Potter in that face, currently eying me curiously. Well, let's see if he's as good as his father is – was.

I stare though into those green eyes, reading his thoughts 'Well, there's only one non-verbal spell I've ever made work so I guess I'll try that-'

There is a bang and I find myself hanging upside-down by the ankle. A distressing situation if I hadn't taking the precaution of investing in some muggle trousers last year. Pathetic. He uses one of my own spells without disarming me first?

'Liberacorpus et expelliarmus!' I crash back onto the classroom floor and catch Potter's airborne wand. Hmm… perhaps… No… don't show off unnecessarily,

"Excellent, Mr. Snape," the Professor almost purrs, "twenty points to Slytherin."

Potter gets up off the floor staring at me sullenly. For some reason I glance over at Malfoy. The blond boy is grinning and whispering something to Crabbe.

"Potter," I say softly and hold out his wand to him. Potter snatches it away and glares at the Professor.

"Now, pair off... Mr. Snape, your presence makes this class uneven. You will practice with me."

Yes! We find a clear space. 'Now then, no dark curses Mr. Snape…' the Professor's black eyes stare into my own and the corner of his mouth quirks up for a moment.

'Of course not, sir,' I smirk back.

'Very well, defend yourself!'

It's no use trying to see into his thoughts. I perform a blocking movement with my wand and jump aside. Duelling is like high-speed chess – you have to think like your opponent. Not so difficult in this particular instance. A couple of dark curses run though my head – no! No dark arts! I'm caught off guard as the Professor's spell knocks me across the room. Dammit – think Severus!

Perfect. Alba oculi!

A jet of white light hits the Professor's eyes, which glow white. I jump up as he performs the counter-curse to the blinding jinx. Expelliarmus! We must have both cast the same spell in that instant for we both flew back, landing heavily on the floor. I catch the Professor's wand and he catches mine. I look down. The Professor's wand looks exactly the same as mine: mahogany, twelve and a half inches, dragon heartstring. The only difference is that his is a bit more stained.

The Professor gives me a slightly battered smirk and leaps up to separate two Slytherin girls who look like they're stuck together by their backs. I stand up and walk over.

"Your wand, Professor," I say politely.

"Thank you, Mr. Snape," he says softly, giving me mine.

The rest of class passes tediously, reading from textbooks. I look down at mine. It's weird suddenly confronted by all these blank pages – just the printed text. Having studied ahead of my year I had already filled all my sixth year books with scribble. Oh well, at least my memory is good. Now… there was that bit of transfiguration I was working on… The current form of the incantation is alae umerum mutae. But I need to focus on the kind of wings I want… Let me see…

The bell rings, I glance down at my timetable, Potions, double period. Excellent… my favourite subject – and no Black and Potter there to mess it up. The future is the best thing that ever happened to me.