Good evening/morning/day, readers. I've gotten a lot of encouragement from reviews, favorites, and followers. It is so needed. I've been struggling to fit writing in with the rest of my absurd life, but it is so nice to know I'm not just here sending things into a black hole. Thanks for letting me know you are here, reading, and wanting to finish the story. I'd love to hear what others have done with their stories when they finish writing. My daughter and I plan to make some drawings to go with each chapter and print and bind this. What have you done with yours? Just pixels?

Hunter finds herself unable to remain the calm rational person she thinks herself to be. And Snape? Difficulty seems to find him, even when he tried to hide.

Enjoy! DN

Hunter approached Snape's classroom slowly and quietly Thursday afternoon, watching until all the students from the 8th year Advanced class had exited and cleared the corridor. She had awoken that morning feeling her confidence cracking somewhat, now that the time to confront him had arrived. It was one thing to write out a resignation, another to hand it to your boss who'd been your...what? Lover? That was a bit much. Boyfriend? Not at this age. More than a professional colleague, but what had they been to one another? Had he ever expressed an intention? Not really. He hadn't even said he missed her when she was gone, only that their work went better when she was there.

Their weekly oversight visit with Parse and Hypatia earlier in the day had unsettled her feelings again. She could more easily deny to herself how she felt, until she was forced into his presence. This week was no exception. Her longing returned; she found herself hesitant to take the steps to commit to leaving at the end of the school year. The letters were not yet sent, her words of resignation not yet spoken. She questioned herself yet again. Was this the right decision? Minerva had encouraged her to pursue him if she felt strongly. But the humiliation of his rejection would pack more sting than a hex or jinx. Yet, what would it really mean? She could then leave at the end of the year, secure in the knowledge that this was not to be, no doubts left over. Love requires two to be something more than obsession. It also requires trust, which was not in great supply in either of them. He clearly had no trust in her to believe the lies in the newspapers, despite her explanations. For her part, could she trust him, given his suspicious nature? All the rumors swirling, and the things she'd seen herself? She could barely trust her own eyes anymore.

Even if she succeeded in some kind of reconciliation, would he be worthy, or had their relationship been damaged beyond repair? How much more distressing would it be to dare to try, succeed, only to discover what you thought you wanted was an illusion? That you could never return to what you had before, even if both of you agreed to attempt it?

And then there was the small matter of her job, which ended at the end of this school term. Nothing had been said from the Headmaster or the Deputy Headmistress about her staying on for any longer. If, by some piece of unprecedented magic, she was able to have some kind of relationship with Severus, she had no job. She needed to think of her career, which was losing momentum by the day as it was. The pieces weren't fitting together well.

At the meeting with the Minister of Education, Severus' mood seemed odd, changed. He seemed concurrently tired and restless, and more solicitous to the Ministers, both the Minister and his Deputy. Parse, recognizing some change in Severus' mood, regarded him more suspiciously than ever.

By the time lunch (a hot lunch of roasted chicken and spaetzel instead of the ploughman's lunch that had become the standard) was being served, Hunter had lost all appetite and chose to remain in her office, continuing to catch up on grading, trying to still her shaking hand. The time to make her announcement and confront the unspoken end of her contract here was drawing near. She set down her quill and gave herself some time to think. She heard the compelling voice of Minerva in her head. "He clearly meant something to you." "What have you got to lose?" Nothing. If he were to try to hex her again, she could easily defend herself. The worst that could happen was nothing, she already knew that. She prepared her heart for that.

And so she was stalking him outside his classroom after his advanced class, hoping to catch him alone for a moment. She gave plenty of time for all the students to turn the corner and start up the stairs from the dungeons. Hesitating further, she worked up her courage. Surely he would be leaving himself at any moment. Perhaps he was starting to grade papers. But dinner was going to be served shortly. Pacing a bit more, she resolved to say what needed to be said before making them both late for dinner and therefore the object of speculation and rumor. She approached the heavy oaken door with trepidation.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Snape gathered the parchments piled on his desk. The 7th and 8th years had departed, depositing on his desk before they exited their last pre-N.E.W.T. essay on antidotes for bezoar-resistant poisons, a topic that was invariably covered on the exam (or at least had been for the previous 48 years). He debated having the students test their antidotes on one another in the next class, but dreaded the ire of Madam Pomfrey if anyone's poison wasn't brewed correctly, thus yielding something even more resistant to antidote. That had only occurred once, some years before, but he recalled her verbal flaying and Dumbledore's as though it had happened yesterday. He had enjoyed the anxiety on students' faces, wondering if they'd made both poison and antidote correctly, now that their friends' fates rested on their skills (or lack thereof). There was little that was more motivating to excellence and conscientiousness than great danger. His own antidotes were sufficient to overcome whatever was lacking in student formulations, but such a teaching technique seemed a bit beyond the pale for a Headmaster. He'd changed his lesson plan according to his new position, yet again chafing at the constraints of leadership.

That decision made, he packed the parchments in his case and made ready to finish the day in his office, knowing that grading those essays later this evening would bring him no pleasure, when the Parkinson girl and her lackey, the Bulstrode girl, approached his desk. He eyed them warily without rising.

"There is no need to dawdle, Miss Bulstrode, Miss Parkinson. Hand in those essays and get to dinner," he said commandingly.

Merlin's beard, I can't believe he still talks down to me this way, thought Pansy. That won't last, though. She stepped around the desk awkwardly and leaned toward him just as the other girl withdrew a camera from her school bag, the flash blinding him in the dark dungeon.

Snape leaped up quickly, knocking his chair back, eyes blazing, wand drawn, a defensive spell cast.

She grinned maliciously, her wand also drawn. "Did you get it, Millie?" The other girl nodded vigorously, showing the print to Pansy, whose grin expanded further. "Perfect," she muttered, barely looking at the image. "All she has to do is utter one charm and Rita Skeeter will have it, too." She then turned to the Potions Master, who sat now, eyeing her with fear.

"Miss Parkinson, what have you done?" he said imploringly.

Pansy folded her hands over her chest, drinking in the scene. Her, lording over him. "I've just bought myself some leverage with the Malfoys." She half sat on his desk, eyeing him with contempt. "You and your Muggle-loving friends ruined my family and my future. Draco Malfoy was practically eating from my hands before the war. Now the only reason I could even finish school was because going here was so cheap this year. But it will pay off for me," she said with a snort. Millicent joined her, grinning like a vapid fool.

"Pansy, please," he said, his voice quivering slightly.

Begging already? Using my given name? Won't help a bit. My, how fast the tables can turn… She cut him off. "Once another incriminating, inappropriate photo of you and a student gets out, with a lurid story to go with it, Parse Winder will have no choice, will he? Parents will be having fits, sending the Ministry Howlers or worse, threatening to withhold funding. You'll lose your job, lose the hope of getting one elsewhere, too. Who'd hire a professor with such a nasty reputation?" She turned to Millicent. "And that was even BEFORE the articles in the Daily Prophet!" They both broke into laughter as Snape's eyes burned.

Defeating him had been disgustingly easy. Now that the war was over, he was a washed-up shell, worthless and weak, slow-witted and dull. Her instincts had been right. Had she known how easy this would be, she would have spent less time rehearsing the plot with Millicent. She'd even missed a Hogsmeade weekend getting the timing right. Thankfully, Professor Snape had been spending less time in Slytherin House. If he had any idea what they'd been up to. Pansy turned back to him, grinning victoriously. "And dear Dr. Hunter. She'll fly from here as fast as her broom can take her, if she's smart. Someone like that, who could even tolerate you, comes along once in a lifetime. If this photo gets out, that will be the end of hope for you two love-birds." She leaned over the slumping wizard. "And if me or my wand is hexed, the camera is charmed to send the image directly to Rita Skeeter. I don't even need to write up a story to go with it. She'll be able to come up with something interesting without my help. So I suggest you do as I say."

The only sound in the deep chamber was the crackling of the flames from the torches on the walls. Without meeting her eyes, he asked dully "What do you want?" defeat hanging off every word.

Pansy stood up straight again and sneered at him in disgust, tossing her hair. "She's made you soft, Severus."

"That's…" he began to growl, gritting his teeth.

"Severus," she replied firmly, narrowing her eyes. "And she has. You used to have more fight in you before. Everyone else still thinks you do, but I'm not fooled. Defeated by a teenaged witch, seriously. I can't believe how easy it is. You'll come with me to Malfoy Manor this weekend and turn yourself over to Narcissa. She's been waiting to take her revenge on you since the end of the war. And once I turn you over, I get my reward."

"Draco."

"Precisely."

"I'm not allowed to leave the school. It's a provision of my sentencing…"

She stood over him, wand held menacingly in one hand. "You can, on school business if you are supervised by tenured faculty. Oh yes, my talents extend to being able to read the papers. Figure it out. Arrange a Portkey for Millie and I from behind the Hog's Head to the alley a block from Malfoy Manor. And for Merlin's sake, dress yourself better. For a wedding."

He nodded mutely, jaw set. She rolled her eyes, backed away, her wand still held tightly until she reached the door. Ridiculous, just ridiculous. Wait until word spread that the great Severus Snape, War Hero and Headmaster of Hogwarts, was bested by a student who hadn't even graduated yet. She idly wondered if all the stories of his great heroism had simply been lies and exaggerations. But then her head filled with images of herself hosting gatherings of the important witches and wizards at Malfoy Manor, securing a lofty position within the right circles. With skills like hers, she could probably even dominate Draco... The future was bright, indeed.

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Taking a last deep breath before entering, Hunter heard the voices of two lingering students and stopped short, jumping behind the heavy dungeon door as it squealed on its hinges. She should have turned around and headed back up to dinner, as it would be a little awkward to be found here in the hall outside the classroom for no obvious reason, but something in the girls' tone made her stay and listen as they stopped and turned back to speak to Professor Snape.

"A wedding this weekend, then?"

"If everything is in order, Miss Parkinson," Snape's voice said tiredly. "And I'm sure it is."

The girl's voice fairly bubbled over with a kind of dangerous excitement. "I've been waiting for this for months. She'll be sooooo pleased, 'Professor Snape.' I've planned out everything."

Snape's voice lacked the excitement of the girl's. He spoke even more slowly than his usual languid pace. "No doubt you have, as clever as you are."

Hunter heard a kind of final, dismissive tone in Snape's reply and the shuffle of his chair moving as he stood. Knowing the students would be exiting in a moment, she stepped into a shadowy nook and cast a shadow charm over herself, waiting for the girls to pass. Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, two Slytherin girls, strode up the corridor towards the stairs, their heads together. "A wedding at Malfoy Manor," Millicent said, more greedily than dreamily. "I can't believe it."

Hunter felt a sinking in her stomach. Snape had been talking about his wedding, for this weekend. But she had no time to think further. Snape emerged shortly thereafter. He glanced around the halls, but his eyes did not hesitate on her, still shadowed. He began walking slowly towards the Great Hall for dinner, hands clasped behind his back. She stood stock still, holding her breath, until he'd mounted the stairs and vanished from her view.

By now Hunter had changed her mind about speaking to him privately. The rush of emotion that confronted her took her by surprise. She opted to take dinner in her own room instead to think this over.

As she sat alone, eating lasagna without actually tasting it despite its excellent quality, she took stock of her situation. Snape was already pledged to someone else and would be married this weekend. That explained a lot: his unwillingness to further their relationship and the ease with which he had ended it; the recent presence of his lawyer, Arboreus Hobble. Perhaps he was pledged to someone wealthy, connected with this Malfoy family, to make up for his own lack of money, which he had seemed fixated on. That would go a long way to explaining his accusations of her. People often deflected their own guilt by accusing others of what they themselves were guilty of.

Perhaps it wasn't a love match. His tone and body language suggested dread in far greater measure than joy. Those girls from his house seemed far more pleased at the prospect of his wedding than he himself did. Maybe he allowed himself to become involved with her as a kind of "final fling" before he was bound in marriage.

Who could it be? Snape almost never left the school, not even to go to Hogsmeade. The only time she could remember involved banking at Gringotts for Hogwarts, and he had gone with Hagrid. Imaging him visiting his sweetheart in Hagrid's presence was comical. But perhaps Hagrid had other things to do there, leaving Snape free to conduct his personal business without interference. Hypatia Alexander only visited once a week, and nearly always with Parse Winder. Despite whatever glances they might trade, there was never any time for them to be alone. Maybe a series of letters?

Rumors about various witches on the staff had circulated like Chocolate Frog trading cards since January, but it all seemed so unlikely. She'd never seen Sinistra in the dungeons except for the one time. And despite her having seen him with Trelawney, that simply seemed too bizarre to be real. Imagining a witch on the staff less suited to him was impossible.

That being said, the true crux of the problem was, it wasn't her.

Regardless of what she'd told herself, what she's tried to believe, she still was drawn to him. Minerva was right. He had meant something to her, far more than she could admit. There were plenty of other wizards, many of whom had attractive qualities. Handsome, skilled, ambitious, mannerly, any number of fine qualities. But they were dull to her. Severus, for all his offenses and challenges, was compelling, with an intensity that she'd only rarely seen in another.

Hunter sat in self-pity for some time, disgusted with her own wallowing. She ached for a return to the few short weeks after the Halloween Ball when she had declared her feelings and had felt sure that he felt the same. They had little time alone, but the walks they had taken in the autumn woods had been enjoyable. Delightful was not a word she could apply to Severus. Nor were they especially revealing, taking place mostly in silent companionship broken by discussion of plants, insects, and other ingredients for potions. Perhaps she was only projecting her feelings on him in desperation. He hadn't actually said he loved her, or even that he liked her. He only said that their work went better when she was there. Still, it seemed he felt something for her. The walks in the woods and around the lake were not for the purpose of gathering supplies. Well, not solely for that purpose, surely. Though he did seem to always have a ready vial tucked in a pocket to gather what useful plants, insects, or creatures they might come across. Despite this, she felt sure there was something there, some feeling. Their research time. Was he only using her emotions to increase her willingness to devote more time to it, to further his own ambitions? It never felt like deception at the time, but the events since he broke it off made her question every moment they'd shared.

She needed to witness this wedding that he had mentioned to no one. To see for herself who this mystery witch could be. To get a least a few answers to the hundreds of questions that swirled in her head.

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The coming weekend was a Hogsmeade weekend for students, the last one before N.E.W.T.s. The glorious spring sun melted the last of the snow and ice and drew the few remaining underclass students outside, leaving the castle largely empty. She found it difficult to keep track of him after breakfast that Saturday morning without being obvious. She had a few conversations with the other professors in the corridor that led to the bridge to Hogsmeade, but it wasn't long before Filch finished checking his list of students who had permission to go and who did not, and the staff chaperones. Everyone had vanished, either into town or back to their houses for studying. Neither Millicent nor Pansy were about, but this was not surprising, given the crush of students eager to spend some time on their own in the village.

Abandoning her post near the bridge to the village, she headed down to her office and classroom. What business was it of hers, anyhow? He was free to do as pleased. He had never made any promise to her nor misled her into thinking he was more committed than he was (not with words, in any case). She would have to follow through on her other plans, for once the marriage bond was made, it could never be broken, until death. No matter what she wanted, he would shortly be out of her reach. She would respect the bond.

Staring into the darkness at the end of the corridor, she tried to remember her state of mind before starting here at Hogwarts, before meeting the enigmatic Headmaster. Her former mental state was difficult to remember. But it did cause her to remember the scrolls she'd meant to send after she announced her plans to resign at the end of term. She gathered them and made to go to the Owlery.

She was just passing outside the Headmaster's office when the door opened and Snape emerged, his face more pale than usual in the dim torch light of the corridor, his hair neatly pulled back and secured with a black leather tie and his suit freshly cleaned. Hunter jumped back behind the suit of armor away from the main door and placed a Camouflage charm on herself to blend with the shadows. How fortunate she'd spent time mastering this one! Who knew she'd need it as much as an adult as she did as a trouble-making student. She placed one foot forward to follow behind him, but was interrupted by the emergence from the office of Trelawney, fastening her cape over a flowing outfit of purple and orange. Hunter had long assumed that she could not see herself very well in a mirror, explaining her usual daily appearance, her hair poorly contained, her clothes mismatched. But she was clearly making an effort today. Her hair that usually sprang out in every direction was now bound in a crown around her head and her glasses, usually so smudged as to be opaque, now had been cleaned and were crystal clear. She seemed nervous, giddy even.

Snape offered her his arm, which she took with an anxious smile, and they proceeded down the hall. As they passed, Hunter was surprised to smell his scent, not of potions and brewing, but instead, of soap and shampoo. He'd really made an effort today. The pair continued toward the bridge to Hogsmeade.

Hunter finally dropped the camouflage charm and began to breathe again. Severus was leaving for Hogsmeade with Trelawney. They were to wed today at Malfoy Manor? This was incredible.

As she made her own way into the village, she continued to reiterate her confusion in a list of facts, for and against this possibility. As far as she knew, Trelawney was unmarried, but otherwise she couldn't bring to mind what Severus would see in her. She wasn't especially bright or witty, but mostly withdrawn except to offer dour predictions of doom based on the stars, the planets, or tea leaves. That being said, everyone on staff did treat her with a respect that seemed outsized to her talent. In staff meetings, Severus was uncharacteristically patient in allowing Trelawney time to speak and be heard, though he wasn't so reluctant to cut off others if he disagreed. One would expect some degree of favoritism, especially if you were pledged. She might make his life difficult if he treated her with disrespect. If Trelawney had money, she might threaten to break the pledge before the wedding. And Hunter had to admit to herself, Snape was not likely to be very successful in the marriage marketplace outside the walls of Hogwarts. Poor, sour, little effort put into flattery. It had taken working with him, seeing his mind at work, to get her attention. Few others would ever get that insight. And few others might appreciate his challenging personality enough to tolerate the rest of the general difficulty it came packaged with. Chances were that he was aware of this. But Magical bindings and marriages were based on many things other than love and attraction; things like family interrelationships, money, influence, ambition, or pledges of parents. Some married for love alone, but usually it was more complex than that.

Hunter's usual feelings of not fitting in on this side of the pond washed over her, and she felt her naivete with a surge of nearly physical pain. She was familiar with who the older families were in the US and who had influence and power in the US Magical Council, but this was of somewhat less importance there. Here, she suddenly became aware that there were layers and layers of history and relationships that she knew very little about, which influenced everything and everyone around her. And Severus Snape was to be married to Sibyl Trelawney, today, at Malfoy Manor, for reasons she couldn't imagine. She needed to find out where Malfoy Manor was, and get there fast. What she would do exactly when she arrived, she didn't yet know. The ceremony would be highly unlikely to feature an exposition on the reasons for the marriage. But she felt compelled to follow the couple as best she could, to see with her own eyes the end of her hopes and plans.