Chapter 3

I'm back (this should be said in a creepy voice. Do with it what you will). I know, I know. It's been forever - but I told you I wasn't going to update regularly!

Anyway, I'm not completely happy with this chapter. It's mainly a filler, but it builds the plot and blah-blah-blah (did I use "Severus" too many times? Because I feel like every other word is Severus).

Thank you Just for reviewing. I'm taking it as a "Wow, you're super!" because being optimistic is fun.

Thank you iXamXeverywhere for reviewing and alerting (you may or may not be the reason why I updated)! I don't plan on giving up on this story (so no forgiveness needed), but you're right - life gets in the way, unfortunately. I have a couple of breaks coming up, so it's very possible that I'll be updating more though, but don't hold me to that.

The final feast was well in full swing by the time Severus Snape had stepped in the hallway leading to his office. It had only been a few months, but he already felt that if he saw any of his students' faces one more time he'd throttle someone. It was very obvious, to the not-so-obedient students (and Dumbledore, of course), that any teacher beginning in the middle of the school year had not paid any dues to get respect and therefore would not be shown any – no matter how many points were taken (in all actuality, it was only the sixth and seventh years who acted up, but in Severus' mind, all the underclassmen would soon become upperclassmen so it was only natural to lump them together).

Dumbledore assured him that next year would be better, that he'd be more prepared. Severus told him if it didn't, he was not responsible for a swelling potion "accidentally" spilling on someone.

If there was something good to come out of the past 24 weeks, it had been the return to the dungeons. They were cold and dark and no one judged him for being down there so often, as it was generally expected for his position.

What was not expected was the tall girl to be walking down the same corridor as him, head down as always, but not in self consciousness.

He had stopped walking all together, and as soon as his shoes got in her line of sight she looked up, the grey eyes illuminated. How Severus hated those eyes this deep below earth; they were the very color of the walls and a ghost put together.

"Shouldn't you be at the feast, Professor?" Rose asked as if she herself wasn't supposed to be there.

Severus simply raised an eyebrow at her, silently reverberating her question.

"I put off my packing till very late." She answered, her hands relaxed by her sides, face tilted upwards, signature-ly passive.

That was her only Slytherin aspect – her emotionless-ness. Other than that, she was a pure oddity within his old house. She wasn't conniving, as far as he could tell, and she didn't socialize like her fellow classmates, looking for connections to build a strong base in the real world. Even if he was exactly a pure-bred, he still had snakely attributes, so what she was doing within that house was a complete mystery to him.

"So you," Severus paused, he only seemed to have trouble around her to form a sentence that wasn't offensive or mean spirited. "You found a place to stay, over the holiday?"

"Yes," She answered a moment later, letting the glow from her eyes stop for a few milliseconds by blinking – Severus still cursed them. "Yes, Dumbledore managed to get a couple to adopt me. It sounds a little pitiful to me though."

They stood in an uncomfortable silence. Coldness seeped into his robes, and Severus desperately wanted to leave that hallway but he had no idea how to end the conversation. They hadn't really talked outside of class, and even then she was a quiet worker. Always turned things on time and took her work seriously – not a complaint from Severus, but it made things more weird between the two. It was hard to forget those few days back at Christmas, but he hoped with time (unfortunately she still had many a-year at Hogwarts) it'd be water under a very, very tall bridge.

"They wrote me a letter, though. A seemingly nice letter, but a piece of parchment won't tell you what a person is like anymore than a flower." Rose moved her head to the side, breaking eye contact, as if she had heard a noise. "Have a nice summer, Professor."

And just like that, Rose Reeds glided down the hallway as if saying goodbye to someone who you had lived with for a week was the easiest thing in the world.

Severus walked on.

Severus sat at the almost empty, singular dinner table in the Great Hall. Fake snow was falling from the ceiling, bewitched in cheery hues of red and green – it was (supposed to be) the most wonderful time of the year.

Chatter almost as happy as the false precipitation surrounded him, it seemed the peas were more interesting to his eye, though. A few Ravenclaws, one Hufflepuff, six Gryffindors and one of what would've been his own housemate (and was his own housemate, at some point in time) sat at the table – mixed with the older, yet equally jolly professors. Dumbledore was easily the jolliest, Severus thought he might as well be bloody Father Christmas.

He wasn't annoyed at anything tangible, no. He was never one for Yule-time traditions nor did he have a problem with staying at school, instead of spending the holiday at his own home – he just woke up wrong. Horrible dreams turned into an unexpected, Ice age appropriate cold front, which turned into every single one of the remaining students blocking his way in the corridors at some point.

It was an assumption that Christmas Eve would always be happy, and ironically Severus was happy disproving that assumption.

Severus Snape ran into the member of his old house after dinner on his terrible day, the walk down to the dungeons not as quiet as normal. He was a few steps behind her, but with the long strides he was taking, it wouldn't be very long until he was in head of her – not that they were racing. He didn't care about that, he had no inner competitive mind looking to manifest in a trivial way – it was just an observation.

It took shorter for him to catch up to Rose than he thought; she abruptly stopped in the middle of the corridor (the snoring of the few portraits who didn't mind the occasional draft sounded almost soothingly, echoing off the walls) and turned, waiting for him expectantly.

She hadn't really changed, in Severus' mind, since before last summer. She was still tall (but was she taller by an inch? Did she always reach his shoulder?), and the check bones were always almost invading the eye territory, whose own grey bits of lightning were still eerie to him.

Yet she looked more content than last year, more at ease than ever before, even at the first day of term.

"Good evening, Professor," She said slowly, no visible muscles twitched on her face.

"Hello," Severus replied shortly. It was cold; oh how he hated those eyes in the dungeons.

There was a small silence, both set of eyes drifted towards the sleeping portraits, wishing they were doing the exact same thing.

"What are you doing-"

"Here instead of with my adoptive parents?" Rose finished for him; her eyes snapping back towards Severus like the clasp of a watch finally closing. "They had planned a cruise for this holiday last year; no spaces were available once they knew about me. They are nice, if you were wondering - would've had their own kid if time hadn't got in the way, but I suppose that's my gain."

Snores, and a random word, indicated those in dream-world – and were the only noises (once again) in the corridor, as Rose's fingers fiddled within the pockets of her robe.

"This is for you,"

A small, brown package within a small, pale hand stood in Severus' eye line.

"What is it?" He asked skeptically, refusing to indulge his fidgeting fingers in reaching out to take the package.

"A 'Thank You' gift," She said, a small smile forming on her lips – an emotion. "Although, I suppose you could consider it a Christmas gift, given the time of year."

"'Thank you' for what?" Severus' brow furrowed – as far as he knew, it wasn't for teaching; she hadn't given anyone else on the teaching staff a gift.

"For housing me last year," Rose declared as if it was the only reasonable answer, before thrusting the gift in front of him once again. His long fingers finally got their wish and wrapped themselves around the surprisingly weighty package, slightly brushing against her own slender ones – before she let go.

"Happy Christmas, Professor," With one more small smile, and a turn of the heel exited the young witch from their setting, while he was stuck.

It was his curiosity, he decided, that made him stay in the freezing corridor. After a long day, receiving a gift was a surprise and Severus was certain that the one good thing could easily be a let down, and his day could still be labeled as "bad".

Thick brown paper floated to the ground like the snow did in the Great Hall, and Severus stood staring.

It was an old book filled with different ingredients and their uses for Potions that he hadn't ever heard of; and after a quick leaf-through, Severus realized he didn't know everything to do with his so-called greatest subject.