A/N: The speech is quoted from G. W Bush. the story will include endnotes at the very end for me sources. :) Thanks.

Chapter 2

Severus was wakened suddenly by his alarm clock. The blaring radio sang him french tunes as he slammed his hand over the clock. It shut off as he slid off his bed and began to get ready for a new day.

Severus had landed in America only three weeks ago, he seemed at first in a daze to the size and amount of people hustling through the city of Boston where he had landed from Britain. When he had arrivied he quickly realized how most wizards and witches had just been absorbed into muggle lifestyle and jobs, in fac the term muggle was not even used. Nor was unusual names such as Severus Snape. Thus he had been provided prior to arriving by the Ministry of Magic, back in England, a new indentity, Severus Slate.

Severus took to the bathroom in his tiny bachelor apartment. He washed his now short hair and dressed in simple clothing, comprising of worn dress pants, and a dark blue dress shirt. Quickly grabbing his wand he grabbed his bag and trench coat, and left. He flew down the stairs which were far too narrow and worn down and left his new home into the bright city upon his old bike.

Mathilde Muir was as elegant as the magazines, she was published in, showed. Her flowing mane of brown curls cascaded down her back and her face was perfectly applied ith makeup. She wore currently a simple outfit, unlike her normal flashy fashion foward dresses to not be ntoiced by the paparazzi. Which was just the way she liked it.

'The shoot will be easy and quick, the editor just needs some more natural shots.' her manager said. She rolled her amber brown eyes.

'Don't give me that look missy, it's money that's what it is.' he snapped. She merely gave a soft laugh and began to follow him into the car waiting for them. But suddenly a change in the program on a television screen in the arrivals caught her off guard and she paused to watch.

'Three days after September 11th, I stood where Americans died, in the ruins of the Twin Towers. Workers in hard hats were shouting to me, "Whatever it takes." A fellow grabbed me by the arm and he said, "Do not let me down." Since that day, I wake up every morning thinking about how to better protect our country. I will never relent in defending America whatever it takes. So we have fought the terrorists across the earth not for pride, not for power, but because the lives of our citizens are at stake.' George Bush's voice rang loudly through the airport, and Severus seemed drawn towards the president. He seemed entranced by the voice and stared deeply into the eyes of what he could not bare to think of as a proper president, recent news he had read instantly reminded him of the Magical Ministry back home.

That place isn't my home anymore, he scolded himself mentally. Severus turned away from the large screen and barely noticed where he was going, nor the body he crashed into as a result of his mind wandering. He hit the floor hard and his camera case and camera flew out of his hand. He scrambled to pick everything up as the other figure helped. He looked up to see brown hair falling into a beautiful face.

'So sorry man, I totally did not see you.' she said. He instantly recognized her from magazines and bilboards; she was Mathilde Muir, a famous model and singer.

'It's okay, it isnt damaged.' he said quickly checking his camera. She eyed him curiously.

'You're taking photos here?' she asked.

He nodded and replied, 'A job for the airport, it needs some new ads for the website'

What ever the bloody hell the internet is. He thought. She smiled as if she could tell what he had thought. Perhaps it just showed on his face.

'Oh, is this some of your work?' she asked. She picked up a photo a cute Afghan child. The girl was around six years old and had the biggest eyes he had ever seen. He had taken the photo for a local newspaper when the girl had appeared in a traditional dance for their town's multicultural festival the year before. It was a personal favourtie of Severus's and he kept a copy always with him.

'She's a beauty, and this photo is amazing, do you work for a specific agency?' she asked. He shook his head no. He then on a ussden urge that came our of nowhere, slipped a bussiness card he had handmade (with magic of course) and gave it to her; it was then her pompous agent whisked her away.

'We have zero time to dawdle.' he snapped. She rolled her eyes and thanked him, once again apologizing, Severus shrugged it off and she gave him a warm smile as she took off. He then finished his photos and hurried to his favourite diner for lunch with a friend.

'Oho matey.' Ali greeted at the diner. Severus rolled his eyes and nodded towards the waiter as he took his seat; he and many had tabs built up by the owners because most in that area could hardly afford to keep up with the demands of the markets.

Ali was literaly Severus's only companion in America. He had met the young man while shooting for the multicultural festival. The man was energetic and also a wizard, and that made things easier. He and Severus became fast friends when Severus found out Ali's love for books. The two stayed close and Ali even aided Severus when it came to getting used to the American and muggle way of staying out of the way.

'Why is your camera case screwed?' Ali asked when Severus took his seat beside the other.

'What-oh that.' Severus said. His case was chipped on one side from the collision at the airport. He told the story and Ali listened until the very end.

'Fuck, that dumbass man some call a leader.' he said. This earned many glares from others in the diner. Indeed Ali was very open about his disaproval of the newer policies and many viewed Ali unkindly; mostly because of that and his Arab heritage.

'So you actually gave her, your card?' he quickly switched gears as the left the diner. His face was full of pure glee as he spoke. Severus glared.

'For bussiness!' Severus said. Ali merely grinned and the two took a walk through the park before departing.

Mathilde laid upon her bed at the hotel and sang a tune in her head. She was drained from travel, recordings and photos. She leaped up after a moment of digesting the day and tore off her clothes. She tossed them in the suitcase that was open at the foot of her bed and found a simple pair of flanel pyjamas. As she changed she checked her pockets and found a crumpled piece of paper. It was the card from that man at the airport.

Severus Slate, the name had an odd ring towards it, but somehow did not fit the man she had met. He stood out in her mind; his dark eyes, pure black they seemed, yet hollow and the drew her inside. She could easily get lost in them. He was a bit older then her she figured, she was only in her early thirties and he seemed only a few years older. His hair was white in small stripes, cut short to hide the slight greasey likeness. His accent had European influences she could easily tell.

Why was she thinking so much of this man? He just stuck in her mind and she coudln't get it out. She took a bath that night, tried writing a new song, and even checked her blog, yet he stayed in her mind.

Severus, Severus Slate, who are you?

Right then and there she dialed her phone and waited for her annoying agent Andrew to answer. She knew she needed to know more about this mysterious man.