Severus sat behind his desk after an interesting study session with his Slytherins. Two seventh years had been getting a little too close in the back of the common room. Technically, they were consenting adults in the wizarding tradition. That did not mean they could get away with that kind of behavior in his study sessions.

Almost as disturbing were the two first years of tonight's center stage. Maybe it was nothing serious, but he was concerned with Mr. Green's behavior. Clearly the boy was not being challenged enough if he had time to torment his friend.

He was sure they were friends. Severus would not tolerate bullying. He did not think this was to that level just yet, but he would be keeping an eye on him.

Severus couldn't help but notice that Miss Bulstrode had been learning BSL and was signing more and more with Mr. Green. It was the main reason he chose not to stop their communication even though it was clearly a distraction. He had allowed the breach of decorum because he knew the boy needed to communicate with someone in his own language. And someone other than his Head of House. If Bulstrode was able to be that connection for him, who was he to stop it?

But then the spider thing... Something was off about that. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He had not meant to pry into Green's mind, but his connection to the child made sensing his emotions a given. The memory was sitting at the surface of the boy's consciousness. Severus could not avoid sensing it, even if the boy were not projecting. But the emotion and the memory did not seem to match.

Perhaps he was reading into things. The time alone with the first year had made him forget that he was only eleven. This was somewhat normal behavior for an eleven-year-old boy, wasn't it?

Those thoughts were swept to the side as he entered his office and saw the large hawk standing expectantly on his desk. The hawk's beady eyes connected with his and it tilted its head to the side, eyeing him cautiously. Tied to his leg was a roll of parchment and Severus felt his heart flop once before resuming normal beating. This must be his response. He had not expected one, to be honest. Maybe his former colleague would help him with Green after all.

Her handwriting was distinguishable on the outside of the letter. If handwriting could take on emotions, this one was angry.

He removed the letter from the bird's leg. He fed the hawk a piece of jerky and shooed him out of his office. The bird glared at him before spreading its wings and flying away. Finally alone, he sat at his desk and prepared himself for whatever anger was aimed at him.

Severus Snape,

The slant of the writing seemed snarky to him, but he kept reading.

If I made a list of all the wizards I had hoped to never think of again, you would have been numbers 1, 2, and 3. After everything you did, are you really asking for my help?

Okay, he deserved that. He could accept that.

And using a student as a reason for the letter? Honestly, Severus, I expected more from you. Aren't you the one who said that your students are "barely literate troll babies"?

He sneered at the crudeness of the phrase. He had not called them 'troll babies'. The actual quote had been 'barely literate progeny of troll incest'. But he did not concern himself with that memory.

We all know you hate teaching. Don't try to act like you are all of a sudden invested in your job. You may be able to fool your fellow teaching staff, but I know you better than that.

A deaf student? At Hogwarts? And a Slytherin to boot? At least pick a believable lie. Did you think you would win favor with that little piece of nonsense? I would what- suddenly feel pity for this fabled student and reconnect with you?

There are no deaf students at any wizarding school. Deaf infants born to wizarding families see the healers within all of three minutes of their diagnosis. So I highly doubt that any pureblooded Slytherin student actually carried their deafness long enough to make it to school that way.

Even a muggle-born's family would jump at the chance of 'fixing' their precious, but 'disabled', child the moment they were made aware of the chance. But let's not kid ourselves, Severus, you wouldn't be wasting your time with a muggle-born would you? I know what you are. I know what you believe in. You can fool the rest of them, but you can't fool me.

Severus felt his blood begin to boil. He crumpled the letter in his hand and threw it across the room. Nonsense, he thought, crossing his arms over his chest. He was more than just a brain-washed Death Eater.

A small voice in the back of his head reminded him that when she knew him, he was only a brain-washed Death Eater. He probably had spouted off some of that ideology when they were in training together. No wonder she had such a poor perception of him.

Severus growled at the reminder and stood reluctantly. He crossed the room and picked up the letter, smoothing out the worst of the wrinkles, and sat in the chair beside his fireplace.

You wrote asking for my opinion? My advice? Here it is: If there is a deaf student at Hogwarts, my advice to him is that he run screaming in the other direction. And that he stay as far away from you as wizardly possible. Because the last thing a deaf wizard needs is someone like you influencing him in any way.

My advice to you is to take this roll of parchment, roll it up real tight, and shove it up—

He crumpled the paper again and threw it into the fire this time. It immediately caught flame and he watched as the unread insults turned to smoke.

Of course, she still hated him! Why had he thought that would change? It had been almost twelve years, but clearly that was not enough time for forgiveness to cover his sins.

Severus let his own hatred smolder like the fire. He stoked it and watched as the flame reignited. He had reason to hate her, too. And he would add this letter to that list. It would have been one thing to take out her anger on him, that he could understand- even condone. But there was a boy who could benefit from her expertise and she was denying him that chance just because she hated him. And he would not forgive that.

XXXXX

'She's still mad, huh?" Blaise asked, sitting next to a dejected-looking Asher at the dinner table.

Millicent sat on the other side of Pansy, almost as far from Asher as possible while still sitting at the Slytherin table. She had avoided him all day. She wouldn't even sit with him during Potions. He ended up sitting next to Draco, who seemed more annoyed than he was at the change in seating arrangements.

He nodded at Blaise and picked at his food. He wasn't feeling very hungry right now.

"She's a girl," Blaise pointed out. "They do this sort of thing. I'm sure she'll get over it."

Asher was not sure. He had overstepped his bounds and she was angry. And probably rightly so. But her anger left him without a way of explaining what he was doing and why. Maybe she would forgive the intrusion if she understood why he did it.

Blaise grinned, "Maybe don't throw any more spiders at her, huh?"

Asher tried to grin along with Blaise's laugh but he was having a hard time faking the emotion.

"Oh, just talk to her," Draco sneered. "You look pathetic."

He glared at the blond boy. The same boy who refused to say more than three words to him in all of their double Potions class, despite sharing a lab bench. That boy was calling him out for being pathetic.

Asher wanted to brush Draco and his attitude aside. He was sick of Draco's moping and his mind-games. Draco had acted like his friend for the first few days and then suddenly, it was as if he never knew Asher. Hadn't Asher been a good friend to Draco, listening to him whine about his daddy issues?

But, unfortunately for Asher and his anger against Draco, the smaller boy was right. He would need to talk to Millicent if he wanted to clear the air.

Asher suffered through the rest of dinner, not bothering to pay attention to anyone talking who didn't first make it clear that they were addressing him. And after the first two or three tries, even Blaise gave up trying to include him in the conversation.

The other first year boys left the table a few minutes later. Blaise tapped him on the shoulder as he walked past and motioned for Asher to join them. Asher shook his head and glanced towards Millicent.

Blaise shrugged, "Good luck, Asher." Then he followed the other boys back to the dormitory.

Millicent tried hard to ignore the deaf boy at the other end of the table. She knew he was waiting for her. Part of her liked that he was waiting. It meant he cared. But a larger part of her was still mad about the night before. Asher had deliberately broken into her mind without her permission. No, against her expressed wishes. She was not sure she could forgive that so easily.

"Your little boyfriend looks so lost, Millie," Pansy grinned.

"He is not my boyfriend."

"He may as well be. Look at him," she gestured to the opposite end of the table. "He's pathetic. All because you're mad at him."

"I wish a boy would look that pathetic over me," Daphne said, resting her chin in her hand and pushing out her lower lip.

"Ew, why?" Millicent asked, making a face.

"Its so romantic." She grinned, "Just think of how much he must care to be so miserable."

"Pa-the-tic," Pansy sang.

"Shut up, Pansy," Millicent growled.

"Go talk to him," Daphne insisted. "I can't stand to see anyone so sad."

Millicent sneered, "I am leaving. I am going to my room and not having any weird, pathetically romantic thoughts about anyone."

Pansy laughed harshly, "Yeah, okay. I will believe it when I see it."

"Shut it," Millicent warned as she stood up.

Asher's eyes immediately searched for Millicent's as she stood. She rolled her eyes and walked quickly for the door. The taller boy waited only a moment before following her.

She had meant to run to her room, but then changed her mind. Instead, she made her way outside towards the quidditch pitch.

Asher still followed. He kept his distance as if waiting to see if she would hex him. She was undecided on that topic.

Millicent reached the stadium and grabbed the first broom she found. It was one of the practice brooms from their lessons with Madame Hooch. She swung her leg over it just as Asher reached her and grabbed her arm.

"Get off of me," she shook her arm out of his grasp and kicked off from the ground. Technically, the first years were not permitted to fly without supervision. However, the stadium was empty and Madame Hooch had still been at the head table when they left dinner. Millicent flew about in a lazy circle, ten feet off the ground.

Asher watched her for a moment, lost at what to do. He could not have a conversation with her while she was flying and he was stuck on the ground. He would need to get her back down to earth. Or join her in the air.

He stomped towards the broom closet and grabbed the first broom that fell towards him from the stack of carelessly placed first year brooms. If she were going to be impossible, he would have to attempt the impossible.

Millicent had watched as Asher seemingly gave up and disappeared under the stands. She felt a moment of triumph at the thought of beating him at this game of cat-and-mouse. It was quickly tempered by the annoyance that he had given up so easily. Honestly, why follow her all the way out here to just give up a minute later?

Then she watched as he reappeared with a broom. He threw his leg over the broom and hopped. The broom hopped with him but did not levitate. Asher tried again. And again. This time he yelled something at the broom. It stayed firmly in his hands and he stayed rooted to the ground.

Asher screamed at the broom and at his own inadequacy. He felt the force of his scream against his vocal cords. It almost hurt. He did not care. He could not fly. He could not make things right with Millicent. He was pathetic, just like Draco said he was.

Millicent heard his cry and felt the emotion it contained. Her hardened heart cracked. She felt a stab of pity for her friend. He really was trying so hard, she thought.

Slowly she pointed her broom to the earth. She landed a few feet from Asher. He was holding the broom over his head as if preparing to break it in half over his knee. She placed a hand on his arm and his angry eyes met hers.

For a moment, they stood there, Asher panting from anger and Millicent breathing quick breaths of uncertainty. Asher slowly lowered his broom and dropped it on the ground. 'Maybe broken,' he signed and gave a half-hearted smirk.

"Stop it, Asher. I'm still mad at you."

He held out a hand to her and reached into his pocket with the other. He pulled out his notepad and flipped to the appropriate page.

I am sorry I scared you. I wanted to talk to you easily. I was not trying to read your mind. I want you to hear me.

"Well it was a messed-up thing to do!" She scolded. "I told you not to."

Asher sighed and dropped his gaze. He tapped his thumb to his forehead.

She crossed her arms over her chest, "Then why did you do it?"

He pointed to her and then himself. He held out a fist by his temple with the backside of his hand facing her and flicked his index finger upwards.

"I understand you just fine."

Asher rolled his eyes. He tapped his cheek with his index finger.

She curled her lip, "I don't know that one."

E-A-S-Y, he spelled out. Then he pointed at his head. It would be easier for him to communicate if he could do it in her head.

Millicent shook her head, "No. I don't want you in there. I don't want you trying to learn things about me that you have no business knowing." Her glare made him pause.

He pulled out his pencil and wrote, I don't want to know anything you don't want to tell me. It wasn't entirely true, he was actually very curious now what she was trying to keep secret, but he would respect that boundary.

"Liar," she said, turning her head away from him slightly.

True, he signed. I can only talk to you. You can't talk to me. I can't read your thoughts.

She studied his face, looking for the lie. She didn't find it. But that didn't mean it wasn't there. "How do I know you won't learn how to read my thoughts?"

Learn with me.

She scoffed, "Yeah, right. I'll just learn legilimency in my spare time."

He bounced one fist off the top of the other and pointed to himself. 'I do.'

"Asher," she said with a sigh.

Trust me, he wrote. Then he underlined trust.

"Trusting people is dangerous, don't they teach you that in muggle-land?" Her expression was hard and angry, but there was a vulnerability in her eyes that Asher had learned to acknowledge.

He pointed to himself and to Millicent and performed a handshake with his own hands. 'Me, you, friends'.

She shook her head, "I am not letting someone play around in my head, Asher."

He was about to respond when she signed 'stop'. "Give me that book that you read. If I read it and think it's okay, I will let you practice with me."

Asher grinned. His whole face lit up with his smile.

"Stop that," Millicent warned. "I will change my mind if you get carried away."

Asher tried to look solemn and shook his head, but his grin showed through anyway. 'I give book', he signed.

"Yes. And if- Asher, if- I read it and agree, then and only then can you try that weird mind thing again. Deal?"

Asher held up two fists, thumbs up, and brought the knuckles together. 'Deal.'

A/N: Sorry for the long time between posts. I probably won't be regular about posting for a little while. There were some unfortunate changes to my family life in the last few weeks that have kept me busy. On a related note, if any of you are struggling with a substance abuse issue or know someone who is, please get help. It's not weakness to ask for help, it's strength. Get help before it is too late.