AN: Oh my goodness gracious sakes alive! Chapter ten! Thank you for sticking with it, even though it's a slow building romance. But now Severus has decided to join the party, so love can soon ensue. Don't think it will be easy for either of them though!

Chapter Ten: The Most Important Meal of the Day

Forget the Philosopher's Stone, Sasha thought the next morning as she collapsed into a seat in the Great Hall, coffee is the real elixir of life. Moving as quickly as her half-asleep mind would allow, she seized a mug and filled it with coffee, reveling in the rich scent and dark color. Glancing around, she wrested the milk jug from the first year sitting across from her, who pointedly glared from his dry cereal to her.

Sasha passed it back with a falsely sweet, "Thank you!" before depriving him of the sugar bowl. She added a touch of sugar, stirred, and then downed a third of the beverage in one gulp. The important thing was to get it into her system so she could be awake to savor the rest of the cup, not to mention the second one. Sighing happily, she began to search for the bacon.

"Looking for this?"

Sasha grinned and turned to look up at Jas, who had appeared beside her, holding a platter of bacon and looking far too awake for someone who was not caffeinated. "You know me too well," she said reaching for it, only to have Jas move out of reach.

"I saw the little stunt you pulled with his milk. Be nice and say sorry."

Sasha glared up at her friend, who smiled down at her politely, flicking a strand of dark brown hair out of her eyes. It was clear that she was not going to relinquish the bacon until amends had been made. With a resigned sigh, she turned to the now-smug first year and said, "Sorry." He smiled triumphantly, and she resisted the urge to turn his cereal into wood shavings, since it would probably result in Jas Vanishing the toast.

"Very nice," Jas said, sliding down into the seat next to Sasha and handing over her reward.

"Your Hufflepuffian tendencies are going to kill me."

"A Hufflepuff wouldn't have held the bacon hostage. They just would have asked you to apologize."

"True. And a Gryffindor would have forced me at wand point, while reading me a lecture on being kind to children." Sasha made a face at the thought of that house. They always had to be so bloody noble - everything had to be a grand gesture with them. No subtlety at all. And if she heard "I'm in Harry Potter's house…" one more time, she was going to start handing out scars, free of charge.

Shaking her head, she decided to focus on something more cheerful, and was given the opportunity when an owl dropped a package on the table, nearly hitting her coffee, and landed gracefully on the handle of the bread basket. Brown wings flapped a few times as he balanced himself, and a pair of orange eyes turned toward her in a silent greeting. Sasha smiled and reached out to tickle him under the beak, which caused him to half-close his eyes in pleasure.

"Hello, Archimedes," she murmured, still scratching his sensitive spot. "What did Tristan send me, hmmm?" Archimedes was Tristan's owl, and whenever he showed up it meant that her stepfather had decided to spice up her gastronomic variety with some exotic food. Tristan was a chef, and Sasha blessed him often for providing her something interesting to eat every once in a while. Not that Hogwarts food was bad, by any means; she just got a little tired of rich, heavy, English food after a month of nothing else.

The owl hooted softly in protest when she stopped scratching to open the package, but he resigned himself to it and flew off to the owlery for a nap.

The package was wrapped in brown paper and tied with white cord. It seemed to contain several large, vaguely spherical objects, and did not rattle when Sasha picked it up to examine it. She didn't bother looking for a note – Tristan generally placed his letters inside the packaging. He claimed it was because he didn't want to make anyone wait to open their present just to read a mindless greeting card.

"Here."

Sasha gratefully accepted the knife Jas offered, and sawed through the cords with the ease of long practice. Setting the knife down, she saw that the package was actually a paper bag rather than wrapping paper. Eagerly, she unrolled the top, reached inside, and grasped something smooth and firm; Sasha pulled her hand out, and could not restrain a cry of delight at what was produced.

"Mangoes!" Two of them, to be exact, both at the stage of not-quite- ripeness that she preferred – they were still tart and juicy, but not mushy or overly sweet. She gazed at them happily, admiring the mottled shades of red, yellow, and a little bit of green that covered their skin. Her mouth was already watering.

"Sasha! You missed something, love." Jas was delving into the bag again, and produced something round, red and leathery, along with a parchment envelope that bore a purple wax seal shaped like a chef's hat.

"He sent you a pomegranate!" she gushed, examining it with delight. Jas turned to look at Sasha, who was reaching for the letter with the hand not currently holding two mangoes. "Can I have your stepdad?"

"You'll have to negotiate with my biological dad for that," Sasha replied, breaking the seal and unfolding the letter. "But be prepared for a fight – he won't want to give up Tristan's lamb tikka masala. Come to think of it, you'll have to fight me, too."

Jas heaved an exaggerated sigh of disappointment. Sasha grinned and then turned to the letter.

Dear Sash',

I thought you might start throwing steak and kidney pie at your teachers if I didn't give you an alternative source of nutrition. Now all the other kids can be jealous of you (or, at least, more jealous than they are normally). There's a preserving spell on the fruit – they will stay at their current level of ripeness for as long as you want. They won't bruise, either.

Your lovely father and I are just peachy, particularly since we went shopping at Barney's last weekend. He got this fabulous leather jacket, and we got you something, too - look for it around the 25th of December.

Have fun (but not too much fun)!

Love,

Tristan and Dad

P.S. My sister announced that she's coming over for Christmas. Since we don't want a reenactment of the Final Battle in the sitting room, you might want to stay at school.

P.P.S. Not that we don't love you, but we prefer the ceiling without holes.

"I love him," Sasha said fondly, stowing the letter in her school bag; she would reply to it later. For the time being, she seized a knife and attacked one of the mangoes. Neatly, she sliced it all around the pit and handed half the slices to Jas before biting into one of her own. Juice rolled down her chin when her teeth sank into the thick flesh, and she licked every drop of it off her lips before going back for more. She chewed slowly, savoring each mouthful, and she scraped every last morsel of fruit off of the skin, licking it clean. There was something wonderfully uncouth about eating like this.

Severus, despite the fact that he looked like a vampire and haunted dark dungeons, was by nature a morning person. Not that he was cheerful about it, but he was always fully alert from the moment he rolled out of bed, and had been known to brew potions before having even a single cup of coffee. He still drank the stuff, but he liked knowing that he didn't need to; independence was something he valued.

He considered the smorgasbord of breakfast items in front of him, as always vaguely amazed that so many different kinds of food had been invented for a meal that most people ate while half-asleep. Coming to a decision, he reached past diminutive Professor Flitwick to seize the basket of muffins. In doing so, his gaze passed over the Ravenclaw table, where it was brought to an abrupt halt.

Sasha Cupris was eating a mango. To be more exact, she was devouring a mango with the gusto most people reserved for chocolate truffles, and she did so in a manner that was so unconsciously erotic that Severus could not look away. The way her teeth sank into the orange flesh of the fruit was fierce, almost primal; but the slow way she chewed, with her eyes half-closed in pleasure, was soft and sensuous. She licked a trail of juice from her lips and chin, and Severus swallowed hard and managed to tear his eyes away.

It should be illegal to eat like that, he thought as he jerked the muffins toward himself so violently that one flew into Flitwick's lap. I should give her detention for…for…

For what? Extremely attractive fruit eating? Devouring a mango with intent to arouse? Even for his famously broad standards of what deserved a detention, that was pushing it. Scowling, he ripped a piece off the muffin and placed it in his mouth, but nearly spat it back out again when he tasted it. Half-choking, he swallowed and hastily gulped coffee to get the taste out of his mouth.

Whoever invented zucchini muffins and made them look like banana ones should be killed, he snarled silently, selecting his next muffin with more care, while determinedly not looking at the Ravenclaw table. He was about to bite into a pumpkin-cranberry muffin when the bell rang, and the food that had remained on his plate vanished, though the pastry he held remained. Severus growled, stood, and swept towards the exit, hoping he would catch a student misbehaving so he could take his bad morning out on them.

Halfway down the main corridor, he caught sight of a familiar blond head, the hair unbound and flowing down her back in waves; it was a state he rarely saw it in since he required her to tie it back in the Potions classroom. It really was a remarkable color – a true golden blonde, a color generally found on empty-headed damsels in insipid fairy tales, though Severus knew full well that Cupris was nothing like them. No, she was intelligent, creative, competent, and snarky to boot. Those green eyes held wit that could match his, but he had seen fear and compassion in them on occasion, and seeing those vulnerabilities served to make her more human than any mythical princess.

"Hey, Cupris!"

Severus started when he heard a voice – a male voice – call her name, and he felt his hand reflexively reach for his wand, though he wasn't really sure why. Quickly, he scanned the crowd and saw Decoste making his way toward Sasha, standing a head above most of his peers. Severus noted that Sasha –Cupris, he reminded himself- had stopped near the wall and seemed to be waiting to see if the person who had hailed her would track her down. With a quick Disillusionment Charm, he concealed himself and carefully made his way over to where she was, using a nearby suit of armor to lurk behind.

Her face darkened when Decoste emerged from the crowd, and her posture changed subtly, becoming firmer and more defensive. She squared her shoulders, planted her feet and lifted her chin slightly; one hand crept toward a pocket the wizard would bet contained her wand. Severus, after decades as a spy, could read body language like he could read books; everything he saw told him that the witch was fully prepared for Decoste to attempt some mischief upon her person.

If he did, she would not be without aid. Severus drew his wand and waited for the fun to start.

"Can I help you?" was the first thing she said, and her tone put frost on the suit of armor; the cocky spring abruptly went out of Decoste's stride, and he came to a halt, almost tripping over himself in the process. He rapidly collected himself, leaning on one leg and cocking his hips to the side. Severus noticed that his shirt was untucked and his tie very loose, probably so he would look a bit more rakish than sweaters and slacks generally allow.

"Yes. Er, no, actually; I mean…" Decoste trailed off, flushing a slight pink, and then tried again.

"I was just going to apologize for what happened last month," he stated in what seemed to Severus to be a very overdramatic manner. Clearly, Sasha was no more impressed than he; one blond eyebrow rose in what he recognized as his own signature expression of contempt.

"But there are so many things that you could be apologizing for which occurred last month," the witch replied, still cold as the Durmstrang dungeons. "For instance, you were in existence last month, which certainly warrants an apology."

Decoste flushed even darker, and he crossed his arms. "What I meant, Cupris, was the night we ran into each other in the dungeons and I… wasn't very polite."

"By "wasn't very polite," you mean that you basically treated me like a slag, until I slammed you against the wall and scared what sense you have out of you?"

It was all Severus could do to keep himself from jumping out and hexing the hell out of the younger wizard. That whelp had treated this intelligent young woman like she was a slut? Mentally, he pictured all the inventive Dark hexes he knew all being cast on Decoste at once. Had he been slightly calmer, he would have wondered at this sudden bout of protectiveness he was feeling towards the witch; as it was, he ground his teeth together and resolved to make Decoste's life hell for a little while.

While Severus had been wrestling with his sudden need for Decoste's head on a platter, there had been a prolonged silence from the two younger people. Decoste broke it.

"Yeah, that." He heaved a sigh and uncrossed his arms, reaching towards Sasha in a pleading manner. "Look, Cupris, I'm sorry about what I said and did. A girl had just broken up with me –,"

"Imagine that."

"And I just wasn't in a good mood, and then you showed up, and I remembered what happened this spring, so I decided to try. I just…went too far. I'm sorry." The floor seemed to catch the boy's interest at this time, and he hung his head, all the confidence gone out of him for the moment.

Sasha contemplated him for a minute, one finger unconsciously caressing the arch of her nose; Severus had often seen her do this when she was thinking hard about something, though with him it was usually a potion she was considering, not a young man. He found himself appreciating her strong nose; it spoke of the strength that lay under her pretty features. Besides, he had never cared for women with small, "cute" noses – he felt they made his look even more enormous in comparison.

The witch's shoulders heaved as she let out a long-suffering sigh. "Fine. Apology accepted, if only because I know you won't leave me alone until you feel forgiven," she snapped. Decoste's head shot back up, and there was a hopeful glint in his eyes that neither Severus nor Sasha missed.

"And bugger off, before I make you even sorrier for bothering me," she added, reaching for her wand with a dangerous look in her eyes.

It was extremely entertaining to watch the boy's survival instincts war with his Gryffindor pride and courage. His eyes flicked to Sasha's wand hand several times, though he had resumed his cocky stance. Finally, the neurons in his brain found each other, and he slowly backed away with an overly casual nod before slipping into the crowd and heading off to class at an expedient pace.

Severus smirked to himself, then ended the Disillusionment Charm and stepped out form behind the armor, gliding silently over the stone floor. Sasha took no notice of him; instead, she was staring into space, still absently rubbing her nose in thought. He felt a scowl creep onto his face as it occurred to him that she might be thinking about Decoste, though it probably wasn't in a flattering light.

That made him pause. Why was he thinking about this woman and her opinions on a fellow student with jealousy? He stared at her for a minute, glad that she still took no notice of him. Gods, that hair was really amazing. He could remember how silky it felt when he had plaited it, back when he had simply been playing with her feelings for his own entertainment…

Again! Again she slipped into his mind and there was some feeling attached to her. Softly, he growled in irritation. He was Severus Snape, Potions Master and Unfeeling Dungeon Bat. No young woman was going to insinuate herself into his mind, no matter how intelligent, pretty, witty, resourceful, talented…

That was it. Severus strode up to her, seized one shoulder and spun her around smirking when she yelped in surprise.

"You are ten minutes late for class, Miss Cupris, so I think it will be ten points from Ravenclaw," he hissed vindictively, staring down into her eyes. He regretted doing that, for those green eyes were captivating. As he looked into them, watching attraction and anger fight for dominance in their depths, he became aware of that same rich scent she had been wearing the night before, and he inhaled it unconsciously.

"Professor?"

"What?" he snapped, jerking out of his reverie and refocusing his gaze on her face. To his surprise, her full lips were curled in a slight smirk, and his brow furrowed in annoyance and confusion. The most feared man at the school was glaring down at her, obviously angry, and she was smirking?

"I have a free period right now, sir."

Damn. He straightened, still staring down his hooked nose at her, trying to harden his heart against those eyes so he could come up with an appropriate retort to her impertinence.

"Be that as it may, Miss Cupris, you were loitering in the hallways. I suggest you remove yourself to some area more appropriate for study," he said with more righteousness than he felt. A thought occurred to him, and it was now his turn to smirk triumphantly.

"Besides, we wouldn't want Mr. Decoste to return and find you here and think that you were waiting for him. It might give him… ideas." With that, Severus strode past her down the corridor, head held high with the knowledge that he had the last word.

Sasha watched him stride down the corridor, robes snapping and waving like black banners in a wind. How much did he hear? she wondered, with no small amount of worry. Obviously, it had been enough to give him the gist of her feelings towards Decoste, but with his talents for manipulating information – and people, she added mentally- he easily could have refrained from giving away all he knew, not to mention what he thought of it. If he had overheard the whole conversation, there was no apparent reason why it would have put him so out of sorts – he disliked Decoste at least as much as Sasha did, that much was clear.

He had been annoyed about something, anyway, which was pretty much par for the course for Snape. But there had been something, a look in his eyes when they found hers, that made her wonder exactly what had been going through his mind. For a moment, she thought she might have seen something new in the depths of those cold, black orbs, something akin to appreciation, or – dare she think it?- attraction. For a minute, he had just looked into her eyes and breathed a little more deeply than was normal before she spoke. If she didn't know better, she would have said that he was gazing into the windows of her soul while inhaling her perfume.

What am I, mental? My raging hormones are making me imagine things, Sasha decided, shaking her head rapidly to dispel such foolish notions.

But her Ravenclaw mind, carefully trained never to discard knowledge, filed that idea away in case it was needed later.

AN, v. 2.0: So yeah... this is a fun little chappie to ease the way to Christmas break, where there will be parties, fights, and few students around... in other words, the perfect time for love to blossom!