Story summary: At the start of Potter's second year at Hogwarts, additional duties fall on Severus Snape's shoulders with the arrival of an unexpected—and unwanted—guest. Occurs from CoS to post-DH, disregarding the Epilogue. Warnings: AU, EWE. Rated T.

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine but was created by the great JKR. This lowly fanfic writer is making absolutely no money, just hoping to collect a few reviews and friends.

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Principles and Honor

Chapter 10

Armed with a tote filled with parchment, quills, and ink from McGonagall, Nadia showed up early in the Great Hall for breakfast.

From the dozens of empty seats, it was apparent that some young people preferred to get extra shut-eye or, perhaps, simply weren't hungry. Diners wandered in throughout the meal and, among the students, in varying states of wakefulness. Whereas during dinner the previous evening, the students had been full of energy and laughter, some now were tired, grumpy, and squinting, and many had their heads buried in books, desperately trying to catch up before the first classes began. Food was already on the tables, the hot items all in chafing dishes so that late arrivals' choices would still be warm.

No longer the center of attention, Nadia enjoyed a leisurely meal of eggs and toast, chatted with Professor Sinistra, and kept an eye on McGonagall, with whom she'd tag along to work.

Although she'd been informed about the mail deliveries, it was still amazing to see of dozens of owls of various species carrying letters and even packages to students and staff. Nadia initially ducked when the first birds arrived in the huge room, then composed herself, although her eyes remained large with wonder.

A speckled barn owl, its broad, white face encircled by a dark, heart-shaped ring, landed near her coffee. Aurora looked at the parchment tied to its leg, and turned her large brown eyes on Nadia. "It is for you." Dumbstruck, Nadia carefully removed the tightly-wound scroll from the fluttering bird, and unrolled it.

Good luck today!

Albus Dumbledore, your Headmaster

She leaned over to smile at the Headmaster, who waved cheerfully. Sinistra reached over to feed the large bird a sausage link. With a squawk, the owl flew off, the tasty morsel caught in its claws.

oOo

Seated in the back of McGonagall's classroom, Nadia immediately got to work, sifting through several years' worth of Hogwarts attendance records the Ministry wanted arranged into a new consolidated system. Nadia recognized the similarities between Ministry of Magic and American government bureaucratic workings that seemed to continually develop new, increasingly time-consuming methods to achieve the same results as from simpler, clearer means. With a shake of the head, she knew she'd find a shortcut to providing what the Ministry wanted without going through all of the tediously convoluted steps.

She concentrated hard on the Ministry work, but couldn't help being extremely curious about Transfiguration. Pausing a few times, she listened to and watched as McGonagall demonstrated to the First Years how to transform a piece of string into a pencil. Most of the students had difficulty, at best turning the cord into a rough stick. McGonagall shooed them to their next class with the admonition to practice that night.

After class, McGonagall took Nadia to the staff room. "Now dear, I think you should take a look at this catalog," the Scotswoman said, handing her Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions: Order-by-Owl. "You'll need to send your measurements so that the robe can be properly tailored. Since you're unaccustomed to it, I wouldn't mind if you prefer not to wear it in my room, but do be sure to wear it when working with Severus. He has a high sense of propriety and tradition, and it wouldn't do to offend him."

All sparkling teeth, groomed hair, and fine tailoring, Lockhart made a beeline to the new assistant, armed with a cup of tea in each hand and a couple of books under one arm.

"Good morning, Miss Beecham! You're a bright sight on a gloomy day," he gushed, handing her a steaming cup.

Snape's eyes snapped sideways to take in Lockhart's display and Beecham's response. She seemed to welcome the fawning fraud's attentions, bestowing a warm smile on him. Mouth twisted in distaste, the Potions master settled deeper into his high-backed chair, returning to his reading but keeping his ears open, as always.

"I hope you're finding Hogwarts to be everything you desire," the famed author continued. "It's quite an esteemed school in Europe, don't you know. The Dark Arts program has suffered somewhat, but I'm pulling it up to standards." He dramatically presented the tomes. "By the way, I'd like for you to have these books. They're among my several best-sellers. How do you spell your lovely name?" he asked, whipping out a gold-trimmed quill.

The other staff normally would have been buzzing about their first morning classes, but Lockhart's show with the new assistant was drawing quite a bit of attention. Sprout plopped into a chair facing Minerva, Snape only a few feet away in the corner.

"Look at him! As if he didn't get enough adulation during his signing at Flourish & Blotts in August, and using Potter to get that free advertising in The Prophet," Pomona grumbled. "And being from America"—the Herbology teacher motioned to Beecham—"she probably hasn't heard of him."

"Nadia seems to be a rather quick study. I shouldn't think it long before she knows what's what," Minerva replied. "A few chapters of one of his books ought to do it."

"Assuming she knows anything at all about the subjects," Snape interjected snidely. "They might just make the perfect pair."

"What condemnation!" Sprout answered. "I take it you think she's none too bright."

"I reserve judgment," he replied, upper lip pulling into a sneer.

"It's early in the school year, Severus." Minerva looked at him astutely. "Pace yourself. You've ten more months to make your pithy observations and cutting remarks."

"Yes, and when it comes to material, I'm sure Gryffindor House will supply plenty of fodder." Snape sharply closed his reading and stood. "I think I ought to go to the Potions room. The air is cleaner there," he said, pointedly looking in Lockhart's direction before gliding out.

oOo

Before leaving for lunch, McGonagall and Beecham met in the Deputy Headmistress's office. The witch briefly explained the House system and Cup competition, presented a list of staff positions and names, and provided some detail about each.

Pomona Sprout was the bustling, mothering Herbology teacher and leader of Hufflepuff. The diminutive Charms instructor Filius Flitwick had a sharp mind, keen wit, and was in charge of Ravenclaw. Snape taught Potions and headed Sytherin, the table at which he'd shot warning glances the previous night. Since they lived on-site and shared patrol duties, these were the staff Nadia would see most often, McGonagall said.

Depending on how long she'd be at Hogwarts, there were others she might come to know. The groundskeeper, Hagrid, was a loyal and gentle half-giant, a kind animal lover and students' favorite. Rolanda Hooch was a tomboy at Hogwarts, and after a sports career and raising a family, returned to teach broomstick flying and to coach Quidditch, a thrilling game for skilled flyers. Nadia had leaned out of McGonagall's window to watch in wonder as students Summoned and flew brooms.

Veronica Vector taught Arithmancy, a sort of wizard form of mathematics; Charity Burbage, Muggle Studies; Sybill Trelawney, Divination; and Professor Kettleburn, Care of Magical Creatures. She was told that the history teacher, Professor Binns, did not dine in the Great Hall or mingle with staff. Irma Pince was the librarian; and Sinistra she'd already met. With any luck, she'd have no need to become well acquainted with Poppy Pomfrey, the infirmarian. And, of course, there was Professor Lockhart. Nadia thought he was very good-looking but terribly self-absorbed.

As they walked together to lunch, Minerva requested that Nadia meet with her again after dinner.

Somewhat overwhelmed but elated to experience such a place, Nadia enjoyed watching the students' bantering as she thought about Hogwarts and its fascinating people. Dumbledore was the first with whom she'd had an extended conversation, and seemed to be a kindly grandfather who was deeply concerned about each of his students. McGonagall was tough and no-nonsense, but there were glimpses of softness. Snape, however, exuded tight confidence, skill and control with more than a hint of wildness about him. Her instinct told her to stay well away, but his eyes and unusual looks intrigued her .

Well, she wouldn't be there for long. Whatever kept her trapped at Hogwarts would soon come to an end, and then she would be made to forget. She could only hope that she'd dream of it, especially the enigmatic Severus Snape.

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She was completely unprepared for the Potions classroom's drab appearance and fearsome atmosphere. Lit by wall-mounted torches and candles on the tables, it was cold and uninviting. One wall was partly lined with shelves holding cauldrons of various types, plus a cleaning area with water flowing from a particularly disturbing gargoyle's mouth into a deep, stone sink. An adjoining wall contained a glassed-in supply cabinet that even from a distance she could tell contained benign-looking plant stuff as well as whole and partial animals, insects and other things she wasn't near enough to identify, nor wanted to be. Assorted odd and disgusting objects floated in glass jars that were part of the "décor."

Snape's high, old-fashioned desk rose from a platform reached by three steep steps. A blank, freestanding blackboard was centered in front of the platform, and before it extended two rows of long tables. To one side stood a little table and desk. Nadia placed her tote there and sat, awaiting Professor Snape and his orders.

Snape emerged from his office, gave her a sharp nod, looked about the room, then strode to the classroom's door. At precisely one o'clock, he flung open the heavy oak door and barked at the milling students to enter. They poured in, quickly and almost silently seating themselves.

"This," he said, his voice almost contemptuous, "is Miss Beecham. In future, she will perform"—he looked at her a moment—"various banal tasks. Today she will silently observe class. You will not ask questions of her, nor ask her help. You are here to study Potions. She is here to serve." The last remark elicited a few giggles from the students on the far side of the room, which he ignored.

Whipping his wand toward the blackboard, diagrams appeared on a previously blank space. "When we last met, nearly all of you"—he leveled a brief stare at an earnest, bushy-haired girl—"managed to foul this room with a putrefied version of a Scintillation Solution, and matters were not helped much by Mister Finnigan bringing a banned Zonko's product into the room. You are well aware that the offending parties are serving a week's detention, and that Gryffindor managed to lose 150 points in a single class."

Students on the room's right side appeared petrified, while those on the other wore expressions varying from angelic to smirks.

"Since you have proven yourselves incompetent in such basic potion-making, today you will review the proper preparation of key ingredients to the Shrinking and Hair-raising potions: rats' spleens and tails."

There were low groans, mostly from the right side of the room.

"SILENCE! You will each dissect two rats, keeping all parts intact, and place the spleens and tails into properly marked containers. Mr. Longbottom"—his voice dripped acid as he pointed to a scared-looking Second Year—"will have the honor of placing the remaining parts in the proper solution. Begin!"

Snape whirled and congratulated himself for terrorizing not only his students, but also his new aide. While Nadia appeared relatively composed, he saw that she was breathing heavily and there was a light dew on her forehead.

"Miss Beecham," he said, crooking a finger toward himself. "Come here." Snape took her to one of the tables nearest his desk. "Mr. Malfoy here will demonstrate for you the proper method of dissecting a rat. He has proven himself adept at potions, far more so than his Gryffindor counterparts," he said, dismissively indicating the students in the aisle nearest her desk. He positioned her against the table, ensuring she would have an excellent view.

She wanted to take a step back but didn't dare. Forcing her eyes to focus on the dissection, Nadia tried to find within herself a scientific mindset in hope of calming her stomach. The smirking child, whom she'd immediately spotted as one of last night's sniggerers, made great show of his skills, closely holding up to and identifying for her each dripping body part.

When he wasn't slashing his quills through essays at his desk, Snape made passes through the room, sometimes peering at Malfoy's work from over her shoulder. It was unnecessary to stand so close, but he was rewarded by her jump and flinch when he did so. Instilling inquietude provided a thrill of power that Slytherins so enjoy.

The Potions master demanded that the room be put to order without a speck of leftover blood, and the students obeyed, then most of them fled. Malfoy and his cadre tarried before Snape, who in a less irritated voice warned them they would be late for their next class.

"Miss Beecham!" Snape hissed when she'd thought he'd forgotten her presence. "There is an empty shelf in the supply closet to hold all of these specimens. Kindly store them there, neatly and according to content. When you have finished, there are several boxes of new bottles that I require in the lab. Please take them there, and affix blank labels to each one. I expect that each label will be placed precisely."

With a murmured, "Yes, sir," she set to work. She entered the supply closet and stood a few moments, transfixed by the array of bottled items, some familiar, most not. All were labeled in the spiky script she'd glimpsed on the parchments on Snape's desk. It was deeply tempting to peruse the shelves but she had the feeling the man in the next room would be displeased by any delay.

Glancing around, she spotted a pile of neatly stacked, small wooden crates and picked up the uppermost two. From the light weight, they obviously were empty so she returned with them to the classroom to begin collecting the filled bottles. The smell of dead rodents still hung heavily, and while handling the bottles she tried not to look at the contents to avoid triggering her gag reflex. It was necessary, however, to note the labels so that she could group the containers according to body parts.

Back in the supply closet, she took a closer look at the contents. Animal products had their own wall while vegetable and liquid matter were scattered on the other wall's shelves, which even extended above the door. Nadia fixed her attention on the animal shelves, skimming the labels. Cat—cat?—guts. Fire crab. Liondragon fur … Nundu spots. Wonder what those are? Centaur fur—you've got to be kidding! Ramora …closer … Raven. Ah! The rat section was composed of tidy single rows, and she added to them. After finishing, she "faced" each shelf so that all of the front jars were within a half-inch of the edge.

That finished, she proceeded to search for the new bottles. In the murky light cast by the far wall's two candles she spotted numerous new boxes, unblemished and apparently new. Bending for a better look, she read: "24 jars, Slug & Jiggers Apothecary. By special order to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. September 1992." A count showed there were eighteen boxes.

Grabbing hold of two sides of one box, Nadia lifted it with a grunt, turned and carried it into the classroom. Wondering where she might find the necessary supplies, she looked about—catching Snape seated at his desk and staring at her with one brow lifted.

"Difficulties?" he asked flatly, his quill in mid-air.

"I, um, was wondering where to find the labels," Nadia replied. Why am I so nervous?

Rising, Snape spun on his heel and briskly but elegantly moved to the wall behind his desk. Drawers of various sizes and odd shapes extended from the floor to waist height, and above that were cabinets. Each had a unique, carved design and handle. One cabinet depicted shooting stars, another a herd of beasts. A drawer front seemed to portray a clenched fist; its neighbor, various symbols. The pulls were of silver, gold, brass, iron, glass and even woven materials in all manner of styles, some plain and some elaborate.

A drawer on the left side popped open before Snape even reached it. From within he extracted a pile of pure white labels, which he sent floating to the table Nadia had selected for her work. While she gaped at the passing parchment, the Potions master returned to his desk.

"Uh, thanks," Nadia said softly, still stunned by the display of simple magic. Snape merely returned his attention to the papers he had been grading.

Nadia lifted the lid off the crate and began methodically removing the bottles. It was only after she'd placed all of them on the worn-smooth table top and picked up the first rectangular piece of parchment that she realized the problem. There was no adhesive on the label. On none of them, in fact.

Snape was scowling at whatever he was reading. She watched as he thrust his red-tipped quill against the paper and the feather tremblingly jerked to and fro from his angry critique. A final mark on the top, and he magically deposited the essay onto a pile of similarly red-spotted parchments.

"Professor?" she began, watching his quill hand stop in mid-air.

His black eyes flashed up to meet hers. "What is it now?" he demanded, the furrow between his brows deepening in annoyance.

"Do you have any glue?" Nadia shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

"Glue? Why ever would I have glue?" Snape inquired in the attitude that she had just asked the world's stupidest question.

"For the labels, of course. Sir," she added hastily, thinking it might prevent his mood from darkening further. A quick upward quirk of her lips added to the message that she was sorry to have disturbed him. "In the drawers, perhaps?"

Exhaling deeply, he rolled his eyes. "I've no need for glue—or Spell-o-tape, for that matter," he responded wearily. "Merely affix the labels. They will stay on their own."

Raising her eyebrows in surprise, Nadia stared at him a moment before giving it a try. Picking up one of the smooth papers, she pressed firmly around the edges and was surprised that it stayed in place. Even picking at the edges couldn't disturb the label. "Huh!" she blurted.

"American eloquence," Snape said snidely while moving the next essay into place for his reading displeasure.

Glancing up, she bit her upper lip, both in thought and annoyance, then returned to the project. After finishing the two dozen jars, she returned the finished box to the supply closet and removed the next new box to repeat the exercise.

She was still hard at it when he left for dinner, ordering her to close the door—which he charmed to lock automatically—when she left the classroom. It was unnecessary for him to say he expected the work to be done when he returned. And much to her surprise, there were twenty-four boxes in the closet. She had been sure there were eighteen. How odd.

Little did she know that Severus Snape had just established the type of work he would assign regularly.

oOo

Tired, hungry and unnerved, Nadia left the Potions classroom, climbed the stairs and traversed the halls to McGonagall's office. She had first thought the stone office somewhat austere, but now its limited decoration and tall, undraped windows seemed positively lavish in comparison to Snape's domain.

The Scotswoman raised an eyebrow as she took in the assistant's state. Determined not to complain, Nadia shrugged. "It took longer than I expected."

"Perhaps you'd like to be cleaned up a mite?" Minerva asked, slightly raising her wand in offer. Nadia hesitantly nodded, and felt the surprisingly pleasant tingle of magic as a Cleaning spell did its work. At the witch's motioned invitation, Nadia took a seat in one of the tartan-cushioned chairs before a low fire.

"I'll call for something for you, to eat. Severus oughtn't keep you from dinner," McGonagall said a bit tartly. "I wanted you to come here tonight to meet the house-elf serving your rooms, so this is as good a way to meet her as any. Liddy!"

Amid a loud pop and almost instantly-disappearing puff of smoke stood a three-foot-tall, nearly hairless little being with oversized, bat-like ears, a long nose, and enormous dark eyes. Dressed in what appeared to be a striped dish towel, it stood on two bare feet and looked with anxious anticipation at the Deputy Headmistress.

"Liddy is here, Miss!" it said, eager for a response.

"Liddy, I want you to meet Miss Beecham, whose chambers you have been serving so well," the tall Scotswoman said kindly. "Nadia, this is Liddy."

The little thing—male or female? Nadia wondered—bowed, one gangly arm bent at its waist. Nadia gingerly extended her hand, and the elf looked curiously first at it, then her, before timidly offering its hand. As they shook briefly, Nadia found her voice.

"Thank you. You've been doing a marvelous job, Liddy," she said with genuine warmth.

Suddenly standing straight, the elf puffed out its chest and eyes sparkled. "It is Liddy's duty and pleasure to work hard and well for Hogwarts and Miss," it squeaked, clearly proud.

McGonagall interjected. "Liddy, I'm afraid Miss Beecham missed dinner. Would you please bring a plate and two glasses of good wine?"

"Yes, Miss! Dinner right away!" And like that, the elf was gone.

Nadia jerked back in her chair with surprise, then exhaled hard, not realizing she'd been holding her breath.

Observing, McGonagall smiled. "None of the Muggle-borns has ever seen a house-elf before coming to Hogwarts. In fact, many students never see one the entire time they are here, but the major basic work keeping the Castle going is performed by house-elves."

"It's not wearing clothes!" Nadia's outburst surprised herself, including for what her mind fixated on.

At that moment, Liddy returned with a pop, bearing a covered tray. Setting it on the table, the elf popped out again.

Minerva leaned forward to remove the silver dome, revealing beef Wellington, potatoes, gravy, cooked carrots, two glasses of red wine, and a dish of fresh berries. "House-elves do not wear human clothes. In fact, they consider being given clothes an insult. It's simply one of those things we humans must accept."

She sat back with the extra wine glass as Nadia began eating. "They take great joy in working for us. It is, literally, what they live for. If they ever think us disappointed in their work, they punish themselves." Nadia looked up in alarm, and her hostess waved away her concern. "You could make things a bit easier for Liddy if you'd allow her to wash your undergarments."

Nadia blushed. "I just thought I was saving someone some work," she stammered.

"Leave the housework and laundry for the house-elves," the elder woman advised. "Truly, they will be happy, and you have plenty to do." She paused, comfortably familiar with the shock Muggle-borns often demonstrated when learning disturbing facts about the wizarding world. "If you choose to eat in or need something, just say 'Liddy' aloud, and she'll help. Do keep in mind, though, that she has many duties besides tending to your rooms."

The Deputy Headmistress watched the fire for several minutes as Nadia ate. When the clock struck seven-thirty, McGonagall cleared her throat and extended what appeared to be a small, folded tapestry. "You might find this helpful so long as you work here." Nadia took the cloth and unfolded a simple bag with an adjustable leather strap. "Look inside," McGonagall urged.

Unzipping the twelve- by twelve-inch pouch, Nadia pulled apart the two sides and was astonished to find inside stacks of parchment, two quills, and a bottle each of black and red ink. Disbelieving her eyes, she pulled out the contents and was agog. There had to be at least two reams of paper!

Minerva looked like the cat that had gotten into the cream. "A simple charm to help with your weighty work."

Nadia met her eyes, smiling wryly. "Very clever. And amazingly useful. Thank you."

Excusing herself, Minerva went to her desk to grade N.E.W.T.-level essays until Nadia finished eating. Then she sent a paper airplane memo for Filch, who walked Nadia to her suite's stairway.

She was immensely grateful to find a prepared hot bath and a flannel robe atop freshly laundered towels. After bathing, Nadia prayed for a quarter hour before nestling into the four-poster bed and quickly falling asleep, her dreams a jumble of the days' events.

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed Nadia's first day and, especially, more Snape in this chapter. Please review! Thank you, Noleme, for fabulous beta work.