Just like Rowling's secret meeting place with Dumbledore, the closet was much larger on the inside. I thought that I might have gotten used to it, even though I had only witnessed it once, but I still starred wide-eyed at the room before me. It was large, the ceiling stretching very high, tall bookshelves covering most of the walls. Multiple fireplaces dotted the scene along with paintings hanging above them. Tall windows let in natural light, not that it was light outside at the moment, and were framed by thick, velvety curtains that had been pulled aside. Comfortable seats were placed in circles near every fire, providing small places for the teacher's to congregate. Although, that was not where everyone was congregating at the moment.

They were all seated, or standing around, at a long table that was placed in such a way that I was looking down the length of it. It did not seem that the meeting had started yet, probably because Dumbledore was not there. I recognized everyone, to the point where it scared me. The door closed behind me, but no one turned to look. It seemed that my hood was doing its job. I nervously made my way over to one of the cushioned chairs, not yet ready to join the rest of the staff. I picked up a random book that had been placed on the table and pretended to be deeply interested. After a few minutes, I actually had become interested. It was a potions book I suddenly realized. It was mostly instructions, but I found it extremely fascinating. I wondered what level this book was. Certainly nothing I would be learning this year.

"Do you find it polite to read other people's books?"

I jumped, nearly dislodging the book from my lap. I didn't need to look up to know that it was Snape who stood over me. I bowed my head so my hood only allowed me to see the hem of his black robes. Crap. Of course it was Snape's book I had started snooping in. I shut it and set it back on the table where I had found it. I witnessed Snape's hand take his property, his long fingers curled. He was probably irritated. Well, when was Snape never irritated?

"So, the new DADA teacher has a sense of mystery." Snape said, practically spitting the words. I felt my face flush red.

"You are mistaken," I mumbled, tugging my hood. "Professor Quirrell is the new DADA teacher." I could hear Professor Quirrell not too far away, his stuttered and broken conversation feeble and weak. I couldn't tell my Snape's feet if he was looking at Quirrell or at me, but I wasn't about to take the chance to sneak a peek at the Potion's Professor.

"That stuttering idiot?" he asked, although I didn't think I was meant to answer. That was right, Snape always wanted the job of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I gripped my hands in my lap, begging Snape to go away in my head. I waited for him to ask who I was, but his feet shifted and he was gone without so much as another word to me. I let out a deep breath, grateful that our encounter was over.

It was then that the door to the Staff Lounge opened again, and based on the hush that came over the teachers, Dumbledore had arrived. I stood, lifting my head. Dumbledore's eyes met mine and he smiled, either because he was happy I had made it, or because I looked ridiculous with my hood up indoors. I moved towards the table with the rest of the teachers, pulling up a random seat and sitting down, remaining perfectly still, as if I would just melt into the background. I noticed there was golden plates and silverware in front of me, all clean and foodless. My stomach let out a small, hungry squelch, making me realize how hungry I really was. After everyone was seated, Dumbledore, from the head of the table, stood and smiled at everyone. I lifted my head a little, allowing me a slim view of Dumbledore.

"Welcome back everyone! I hope that you all had a good, relaxing summer." The teachers clapped, making me lift my own hands and politely clap along with them. "I wish to thank you all for your hard work, both outside of Hogwarts and within." A chill ran down my spine as a sensed Dumbledore's double meaning. Many members at the table had helped with the challenges that protected the Stone. Was it below them right now? My feet buzzed, as if the Stone's power was making the floor vibrate. "That being said and done, I only have two announcements for us this evening, and then we may commence with our dinner. Our first announcement, I wish to welcome Professor Quirrell who will be taking up the duties of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." I was too busy trying to get a proper look at Quirrell to clap for him. I leaned forward in my chair and caught a glimpse of the pale man on my side of the table.

He looked around, giving everyone a twitchy smile, his turban secured on his head. It was hard to believing that this frail man was harboring the Dark Lord on the back of his skull. He was a very good actor. I heard a displeased breath across from me and suddenly realized that Snape was sitting right across from me. He had clapped for Quirrell maybe once or twice, but his arms were now crossed. It was the first time that I had seen his face. Something about it seemed to make me jolt, earning a few curious glances from those sitting next to me. I snatched my goblet and ducked it under my hood and take a long drink from it, hoping to cool myself down. Was it hot in here? Was it the fires? Or was I just terrified out of my wits.

"And we have a rather new job for our new employee," Dumbledore said. I froze, setting the goblet down. I didn't want Dumbledore to introduce me, not like this anyway. But it had to happen, and my neck was already killing me from being bent for so long. I couldn't keep this up all evening let alone all year! "She will be our new Teacher's Assistant and will be shadowing you all for the first year curriculum. This may seem an inconvenience, but I promise you all, she is very talented." Don't make any promises Albus! I thought desperately, I haven't even cast my first spell yet!

"Headmaster, you are being unusually cryptic about our newest member of staff," I heard McGonagall call out, her 'r's rolling off her tongue. Dumbledore chuckled.

"Yes, I am aren't I. Come now dear, remove your hood. I think you and I have had our fun." I didn't move to pull my hood down. My face and hands had gone a milky white.

"We don't bite!" one teacher called out, making everyone else chuckle. I licked my lips and smashed my eyes shut. Do it. Just do it. Like a Band-Aid. Quick and painless. One. Two. Three! I raised my hand and yanked my hood back, revealing my face. Perhaps whipping it off had been a bit dramatic, but it was easier than trying to play calm. I did not look up at anyone.

The room was dead silent.

The silence should have been confirmation that I was right. Rowling had simply imagined me looking like Lily Potter. The silence should have told me to relax. The silence should have made me feel better. But it didn't. It was an unnatural, stiff silence, as if everyone in the room had stopped breathing. Someone should have jokingly said, 'There, that wasn't so bad!' but no one said a word. I finally looked around, straightening my back and neck. Most of the staff was ogling at me with wide eyes, their mouths open. Something was wrong. I hadn't been right. Rowling had. I looked very much like Lily Potter.

I moved my eyes to Snape who, ironically, was not even paying attention. He had tuned out the entire conversation to drink from his flask, his dark eyes glaring at Quirrell. It was Quirrell's shocked gaze that was pointed at me that eventually led to Snape's eyes to turn to me. He choked on his water, slamming his goblet down and coughing, spluttering, pounding his chest. I stared at him, leaning back in my chair. The abrupt sound from Snape broke the spell over the rest of the staff. Everyone started talking at once, a few members standing up. I shrank away, looking at Dumbledore with pleading eyes.

The old wizard stood, and in a booming voice I did not believe could come from such an old man, yelled, "Silence"! The effect was immediate. The talking stopped, but it did nothing to stop the stares that felt as if they were burning holes into my skin. Dumbledore suddenly looked tired, but still kept control over the staff.

"Our newest member of staff, ladies and gentlemen, is Lily Evans." Everyone might have started talking again that the mention of my name, but Dumbledore's pointed look stopped anyone from even trying. "I am aware that there is a likeness between that of Lily Potter and Miss Evans –"

"Likeness!" McGonagall interrupted. "Albus! They are practically the same person!"

"They share the same surname!" Flickwick piped up. The talked began again, and in the whole of this, Snape had not taken his eyes off me. I turned my head and accidently made eye contact. It was as if I had been stabbed with a white hot poker. I didn't know what I had expected when I eventually met the Potions Master, but the expression on his face was not at all what I had been expecting. Hatred. Loathing. I thought he might leap across the table and strangle me, or at least whip out his wand and place some horrible curse on me. No, I hadn't been expecting that at all.

"Please!" Dumbledore boomed, once again removing any other voice but his own. He succeeded in glaring at everyone in the room before sighing. "Miss Evans, however alike to Mrs. Potter, is in need of a job. She will be attending every class a first year would, shall help with the curriculum, and shall cause no trouble." At this last part Dumbledore looked right at me as if to ask 'Right Miss Evans'? I nodded my head, trying to untangle my tongue. "I would ask that you not cause any trouble for her in return. Thank you." And with that, he sat down.

Food magically appeared on the plates before us, as if trying to get the attention away from me. In order to do that, it would need to dance, or at least do back flips, I thought. I started picking at the pile of food on my plate, the idle chit chat starting, when I heard the scrapping of chair legs on the stone floor. I looked up to see Snape leaving the table and exiting the Staff Lounge. No one seemed to notice, so it could be that he never stayed for the Staff meeting dinner, but I had the nagging feeling that he had left because of me. No one, not after Dumbledore's speech, looked at me or tried to talk to me and I was perfectly fine with that. I was left with my own thoughts and the memory of Snape's expression, sending chills down my spine. I was unsure how alike to Lily Potter I was, rather than looks, but I got the uneasy feeling that I was left with her unfinished problems.

I walked back to my office, feeling sluggish, either from the food or the stress I felt pressing down on me. It wasn't even the first day of the term and things already seemed to be getting crazy. Quirrell had tried to strike up a conversation with me, something that I had avoided with cryptic answers and simple affirmative or negative noises. I didn't want to talk to him, it creeped me out and I had felt Dumbledore's eyes on me during the whole encounter. He would probably give me a lecture later about who I shouldn't talk to.

Even though I had taken a nap earlier, I was ready to crawl into bed and to let everything melt away. The craziness of the evening had really taken its toll and sleep seemed to be the only cure. I finally reached my door and…Wait, hadn't I shut it when I left? I froze, seeing the door silently open. Sure, I had been in a rush earlier, but I remembered the distinct slam of the door behind me. And there was no mistaking the noise that was coming from the inside.

I crept forward, pulling my wand out of my pocket. I had no idea how to use it, but it made me feel a little more powerful. And if it really came to it, I could always use it to stab my intruder in the eye. I stepped closer. There was rustling and the sound of someone being very careless with my new office. I gripped the handle and opened the door just a tad. It squeaked. That one little squeak, I knew, would be my undoing because the noise inside stopped. Nothing for it. I opened the door rapidly and jumped it, but my attacker was prepared.

The next thing I knew, the door slammed shut and I was thrown against the wall, hand on my throat, wand pressing into the underside of my jaw. I gasped from breath and starred right back at my attacker. I hadn't even considered who it might be, perhaps Quirrell, but I had not been expecting…Snape. I blinked, as if I was hallucinating the dark hair, pale skin, long nose and black eyes filled with fury. My head spun, probably from being smashed into a wall, but also from confusion. What was Snape doing here? I looked past his angered face to see my potion supplies scattered about, by drawers open, books tossed to the floor.

"Who are you?" Snape snarled. My attention was quickly drawn back to him and I opened my mouth in shock. My potions, my books…did he think I had Pollyjuiced myself? I took in a breath to speak, but his wand pressed farther into my skin. Ouch, that would leave a bruise. "You will find that I don't like to play games, so tell me the truth, and tell it quickly." This was not the composed Potions Master I had read about in the books. He was out of his mind! I wasn't a fan of being attacked, and I didn't care that he was one of the most important characters in the story. Wand be damned, I thrust my fist into the side of Snape's face.

He had obviously not been expecting it and released me, stumbling back. I took in a large breath that was not prevented by a stick or a hand at my throat. Snape stood up straight, dazed by the blow. Anger suddenly over took me.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!" I yelled, panting. "You can't just come in here and go through my stuff!" I took a step towards him, poking him violently in the chest. His face was shocked and his wand arm hung limply by his side. "And then you threaten me?! What is your deal? I'm here one bloody day and already I've got people snooping around my things and my life! I just wanted to come here and enjoy myself and help! But no! I get the Potions Master with the –" I had been about to say 'Lily Potter obsession', but I stopped myself just in time. I couldn't let on that I knew anything, not one detail. Things would only get worse if I did. I released my lip, which I had been biting down on before stamping my foot and letting out a large breath of air.

"Get. Out." I said, with such constrained force Snape only looked at me for a long moment before turning and leaving the room. I glared after him before walking over and closing the door. I groaned, rubbing my forehead and turning to look at the mess. I wished once again that I knew how to clean up a mess with the wave of my wand, but all good things would come in time. I ignored the mess for now and went to lock my door, only to remember that common locks didn't do much against magic. Damn wizards.

I walked over to The Merman, who had just swam into his frame. "Well a fat lot of help you were," I snapped. The Merman simply cocked on eyebrow at me. I glared and muttered, "Rowling" under my breath. I entered my room and undressed, not wanting to sleep in my robes again. I shoved my trunk under the bed and flopped down, my red hair splayed out around me. Why was I here again? Why did I think this would be easy? I thought about it for a moment before standing up and walking back into my office to grab a piece of parchment and a quill. I sat down at the desk and began to write. Writing with a quill was much harder than I had thought, but after a few minutes, I got the hang of it. Taking the parchment, I set it on my bed side table. Written on it was a list of names.

Cedric Diggory

Sirius Black

Albus Dumbledore

Alastor Moody

Dobby

Fred Weasley

Remus Lupin

Nymphadora Tonks

Lavender Brown

Colin Creevy

Severus Snape

Out of spite to what just happened, I had put a large line through Snape's name. But these people were why I was here. They didn't have to die, but they did. It surprised and saddened me how I knew everyone who had died, at least those with names. I knew that many more had died. But I couldn't save everyone. But I might be able to save those on my little list. I looked away from my daunting task to look up at my roof, pulling the covers over my body. It would be there every morning, to remind me why I was there.