Summary: Anne's lessons and reputation begins
Longer but more fun.
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It was cold and dark, like a graveyard. A cauldron stood in the middle, blood bubbling up inside in. Sparks were flying off it like electricity. Suddenly a burst of light clouded over this being that flew out of the cauldron, dripping blood and other liquids. It unfurled itself from the foetal position to begin to raise its head. She tried to walk closer but ....
She woke suddenly, breathing deeply, sweat dripping off her forehead, her heart pounding through her chest, a sickening feeling in her throat, eyes wide open. Was anyone else awake? Would they see? Would they hear her? She looked around her; they were sleeping.
She leaned back in her bed, her eyes watering up. She moved to the side of her bed to light a candle, she couldn't bear the dark. It scared her more than anything else. When she stayed with her father the house seemed to be enveloped in it, like a fog that didn't want to leave. She'd never quite dreamt like that. She'd seen murder and rape and torture and fire and burning and ritual sacrifices but never seen anyone coming out of them.
Tears started escaping her, dropping onto her duvet like spring bulbs opening up in the wilderness. She couldn't let this get to her. She wouldn't. It wasn't real. It was just a dream.
Just a dream where someone came out of a cauldron of blood.
She picked up the book she'd been reading before leaving the house the morning before. Wuthering Heights. She felt sorry for Cathy. She'd done nothing but marry someone who was there at the time and Heathcliff was trying to destroy her for love. Her eyes became distracted by the fire in the middle of the room. How the flames leapt and spat at each other. Was this all she would know; suffering.
She was woken hours later by Hermione. Hermione had heard someone breathing heavily in the night. She didn't bother to look, everyone has bad dreams. However it was now eight o'clock and she didn't think Anne would appreciate missing breakfast.
"Anne? Anne?"
She picked up the book on the floor, setting it next to Anne's candle.
"Wha? Wha?" She certainly did look funny in the mornings.
"Breakfast."
Anne eventually was ready, her hair more controlled, her robes adjusted to suit her. She was glad Hermione had waited for her. She didn't want to go down on her own with everyone else watching her. They still were nervous of her, less than last night but they still edged around her.
"Don't worry. They'll forget about it by tomorrow,"
If only she had Hermione's confidence. They sat next to the two boys again, both stuffing their faces with whatever food was to hand. Typical.
The first few lessons of the day went fairly smoothly. Nothing was blown up, no fires suddenly appeared, no one ended up on the roof, no windows were smashed. An oddly normal day. Just how Anne liked it. She could relax and enjoy herself. Harry and Ron were great fun but Hermione was brilliant to talk to and do work with. They quickly got noted as the brightest in the year, to the annoyance of the boys but what can you do?
Last lesson of the day was potions, something Anne was dreading. If she knew her father he would be anything but civil to her. she sat in the dungeons with Hermione and the others, dreading when her father would come in make her life the living hell it already was.
In he stormed, silencing the class without raising his voice. Impressive.
"There will be no wand waving in this class. As such ...."
Boring. She started to zone out now, not caring what he said. She started wondering what would happen if fairies and magical being suddenly jumped through the walls, redecorated it to look like a pixie kingdom and suddenly Snape was dancing along t the Happy Little Elves theme tune. She couldn't help but try to hide the growing smile on her face.
"... not paying attention."
She looked up innocently. It wasn't her he was looking at.
"Mr Potter," She turned to him. All he'd done was write down what her father had been saying. Was that a real crime?
The questioning began. Typical. Just to justify his own lack of superiority he would question Harry to death until he came up with something half decent before being told that was average.
"Miss Evans, would I be asking for a miracle if I told you to copy out the instructions on the board?" Slytherins sniggering in the corner, not believing their luck.
She silently started copying out the board before getting her equipment to start the antidote for Professor Snape. Sounded so sickly.
She watched the others as they started their potions. Most were alright, double checking every single instruction two or three times before adding an ingredient or stirring their potion. She saw Hermione competently achieve the midway stage in the potion while Harry and Ron lagged behind with the rest. She knew her father would soon come over to them, shake his head at them and move on. She didn't quite expect him however to be so biased towards his own house, awarding them points for simply setting up their cauldrons right while ripping away at her houses efforts for the tiniest mistake.
"Miss Evans can you read?" the blonde boy from yesterday now looking up at her.
"Yes,"
"Yes what?" raising his eyebrows at her in that condescending way he always did.
"Yes sir?" staring back at him, almost challenging him.
"Then you would note that the bee sting is the last thing you add to your potion. Why have you added it now?" the blonde boy hardly able to control himself.
"I didn't add it. I added a wasp sting which you've written can be added during the fourth stage. Are you sure you can read, sir?" milking every single minute she could.
"Fourty points from Gryffindor ..."
"What?"
"...for cheek, sir."
"Don't call me sir."
He leaned over her desk so that only she could hear him, the rage evident in his face.
"This is not how you will behave and if you continue it will be the last time you will ever be in my class. Detention tonight six o'clock here," raising this voice for the last sentence before walking off.
"What's that for?"
"Lack of respect. One more word and you will be moved out,"
The anger was just burning inside her. How could he get away with this? It was so unfair. The cheek for him to say that she had a lack of respect when he couldn't stand being with her in a house for a few weeks. Ha! He was doomed. He knew nothing about her. He knew absolutely nothing about her.
She finished making her potion, the injustice clear on her face. At the end of the class she filed up with the others to hand in her potion before packing up. She was last to hand hers in. He looked at it for a few seconds before moving back slightly in his chair before binning it.
"What was that for?"
"Inadequate potion making. If you will have read the board you will note that your homework was to research about wasp sting antidotes not to make one. Therefore this potion is useless," a small smile of self satisfaction crossing his face.
"Fine," shrugging her shoulders before walking back to her desk.
She looked down at her desk before noting a faint glow on her chest. Damm it. Did it always have to glow? She didn't quite want to explode anything, it wasn't quite the right time to do that. She looked over to her cauldron. Would it ....
Grabbing her bag she hurled the cauldron across the classroom, her potion spilling out onto the floor, a deafening BANG echoing across the dungeon. She looked up at Snape, glaring at him before storming out off the dungeon, Snape's voice reverberating behind her, "Professor McGonagall's office NOW!"
"I'm going, I'm going!" powering through the crowds of confused students.
She looked behind her. Snape was power walking behind her, his eyes ablaze with fury. Shit. She started running full pace, not entirely sure where she was going but hoping to God it was the right direction. She could hear him now, the heavy pounding on the floor, his robes flapping behind him as he gained speed.
Not bothering to knock she practically fell into McGonagall's office, taking the professor by surprise.
"Miss Evans, what on earth ..." before Severus appeared behind her, out of breath and fuming.
"This girl is a disgrace and a shame on her family," spitting out every word with venom.
"Big surprise,"
"I refuse to teach her again if she so dares as much breathes in my presence,"
"Fine. I don't want to be there."
"Perfect,"
A gentle knock on the door alerted them to the fact that so much noise was being made.
"Enter," McGonagall praying it was Albus. All this girl seemed to be was trouble and even she couldn't manage this much.
Dumbledore was not only bemused but slightly disappointed to see the scene he saw.
"Miss Evans, would you accompany Professor Snape and myself to my study," already opening the door for her, knowing her answer.
Okay so if she wasn't doomed yesterday today she was for definite. At least she had an idea what a normal life with friends and teachers who respected her felt like. Now at least she had something nice to dream about. Now she knew it wasn't just her that made her physco of a father mental, it was just himself. Pity.
She was starting to remember this room well know. She hadn't quite prepared for Dumbledore to be expecting her and Snape to be rowing and have to talk to them. Oh great, was this some sad attempt at therapy?
Sitting down reluctantly, she didn't bother looking at Snape. She wanted him to feel as guilty as possible. He deserved it. He was such an ...
"Now, before we have another scene like we've had today, would it be best to get any long held grudges and complaints in the open now so we don't have to worry about them bursting out later?"
No one answered. Bother knew the other didn't want to comment. Both had too much pride and face to stoop to being the whining whingeing brat the other was.
Dumbledore sighed. He had expected problems, it was only natural, but not on this scale of hate and loathing.
"I see. Then may I make it quite clear that though you too may have your differences this is a school. I would prefer for it to operate like that and not an extension for your continual battling."
"Yes sir," Snape merely nodding his head.
"Miss Evans, you will continue learning potions but will do so with good grace and forgetting any previous feelings for or against your father. I would also appreciate if you were not so in favour of your house during Miss Evans lessons,"
He stared back at them. It should have been perfect this. An opportunity to push aside the past. Why must it always be those who have the most to lose to have the strongest grudges?
After dismissing Anne, adding to the continual glares and slamming of doors, Dumbledore turned to Snape.
"Does she know?" his tone changing entirely.
"I think not," not enjoying this "therapy" session.
"It would of been better of course if ... but this does not need to make it more difficult," before dropping his voice so the portraits had to strain themselves to hear, "The incident on the train is common I understand,"
"She does have a tendency to become very ... emotional," smiling a little, pleased there was still a chance of her leaving.
Dumbledore moved away to the back of the room, his mind at work. "If something on that scale was ever to happen again, I would fear for her and Harry's safety."
********************************
Anne didn't bother waiting around. She still had to grab dinner before detention. Luckily the hall was almost empty but unluckily most of the food had already gone. Wolfing down what she could, she finished dinner before heading back to the dungeons. She'd heard Snape, she wasn't going to think of him as her father anymore, gave really nasty detentions and wasn't looking forward to discovering whether that was true or not.
She sat in the classroom, waiting for him to arrive. Slowly, the clock moved forward in time. She was moving nowhere. After half an hour she gave up. Why she'd even bothered coming perplexed her enough. She couldn't be bothered wasting her evenings after a man she knew failed her again and again.
She only made as far as the door before, in true style, Snape whipped out of his supply closet.
"Sit down," he hissed, sitting himself down at his desk.
"Thought you'd come for my sake?" throwing her bag on the desk again.
"Believe it or not the world does not revolve around you and your pathetic little life," he snapped back. He would have shocked her had he not said this many times before. He glided his way to her, passing her some parchment. "Lines I thought. I must learn to respect my father and keep my mouth shut. Two hundred times. For good measure." Before moving back to his place.
"You're not gonna get rid of me, you know," taking up her quill to start before putting it down again. "What have you got against me?" she asked, perfectly honest and sincere.
"Your lack of manners, respect, control to name a few,"
"No but seeing as you've spent only a year of your life collectively with me I'd have thought you'd be grateful to spend some quality time with your daughter."
He had to stop himself from saying he wasn't her father. He'd love to see the look on her face. "I did it for your own good. Whether to you chose to make use of that or not is up to you but do not blame your failings on me."
"'Cause you always face your problems don't you."
He looked up at her finally. Her eyes firing at him, her lips clamped together, her hands not shaking. "I have always have tried to be a fair and ..."
"Let's just cut the crap, you don't care whether I live or die, let's be honest 'cause as soon as I'm gone you can get back to pathetic little life again whether you liked it or not. So don't try and say you care about me 'cause we both know the truth."