Chapter 3

Return to Hogwarts

Claire stopped before the gates to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy. She took a deep breath and stepped forward, tapping it with her visible wand. She could have used the one embedded in her finger, but one never knew when someone might see. She had always given the impression that wandless magic was nearly impossible for her; she wouldn't ruin that reputation over something this simple. The gates swung open to admit her and she walked through, the gates creaking behind her and clanging together as they closed.

She ignored the discomfort of the cold as she walked toward the entrance. The thunderous sound of applause came from within and she had a bittersweet moment of remembering her own sorting. She shook it off as she walked along the path, trying to stay in the here-and-now and not in that past that seemed so distant as to be another life that had happened to another person.

The front doors opened to admit her without need for prompting. She'd always enjoyed that. She wasn't sure why they did that for her. No one else had ever seemed to notice, but in her third year, she'd realized it didn't happen for anyone but her. They opened for her of their own accord without being touched, but not for anyone else as the school. She smiled faintly as she recalled the day Dumbledore saw her playing with the doors.

He had given her a slow, exaggerated wink, as if they were sharing a secret. She couldn't resist. She turned after she had entered, and instead of continuing and letting them close on their own, she held her arms up. Bringing them together, she watched as, without a spell, they closed for her. She smiled and turned to enter the grand hall.

She was late. Once, she had been perpetually late, but now she was late simply because she hadn't wanted to be introduced. Professor McGonagall had taught her to be prompt. She would likely tut her tongue at Claire tonight, but Claire thought it was well worth it to miss out on the discomfort of being introduced to the entire school. She was an Unspeakable, which Dumbledore well knew; but no one else did. She didn't want to be made public even here.

She entered the dining hall and quietly walked along the wall. The spell she was nearly always cloaked in worked here, shielding her from anyone except those who looked for her, or directly at her. She went to the seat at the end of the table next to Professor Pomona Sprout. The enchantment protecting her from detection released at her proximity to the other woman and Professor Sprout startled.

"Oh, hello. I didn't see you come in. You're late, introductions are over, I'm afraid. I'm Professor Pomona Sprout," and she held out her hand to Claire.

Claire took no offense. People rarely remembered her. She had once thought it was because of being an unspeakable, but she'd realized later that it was simply because she was shy and thus… forgettable.

"I'm Claire," she replied, though she had been in Sprout's classes for her entire stay at Hogwarts.

"What will you be teaching?" Sprout said, then stopped and looked again. "Claire? Claire Armont?" She was looking closely at Claire now, peering into her eyes intently. "Why, yes. Yes, it is. You've come to teach, have you? Welcome, welcome. You were quite a good student, as I recall. It's been some time now, but the way you—"

Claire smiled with a surprised sense of pleasure as Sprout continued, praising Claire's pruning skills. Claire, in her usual way, hadn't taken the praise seriously at the time. She was often far too perfectionistic and had dismissed it as being kind. The fact that Sprout remembered her, and her pruning, and apparently her soil packing technique, and also the enchanted shears Claire had given her… meant that the praise was likely genuine.

Claire laughed self-consciously. "Professor Sprout, I'm getting embarrassed." She tried to make it clear with a gesture that she meant the flattery, and Sprout obligingly stopped with a small chuckle.

"You always were entirely too self-effacing. You should take pride in your accomplishments."

Claire demurred and asked how Sprout's summer had been. The other woman went into a long soliloquy about her summer plants and their successes and failures. Who knew plants were so exciting!

Claire looked across the room at Severus. He was sitting beside a teacher she didn't know. The man wore a turban and seemed anxious to the point she feared he might get up and run away. Then again, perhaps it was because he sat next to a man who was far, far more terrifying than he looked. And she well knew that he looked very frightening to most people. She had never seen him that way, but she was aware of general sentiment.

He was definitely not handsome in a classical sense. She was glad to see that he had improved in his self care, his hair seemed clean and the black he wore had no apparent stains. She smiled at Sprout again as she made a joke about a plant that Claire didn't actually understand, then glanced back at Severus.

His eyes met hers for just an instant as he glanced past her. His fierce, hawklike gaze landed on one of the children and paused even though his head was turned towards turban-teacher.

There had been no recognition in that glance. He had seen her, she knew that, but he hadn't really. Not really. He barely noticed her at all, in fact. A cold lumpy thing lodged in her chest and made its way to her throat as she tried to put a smile back on for Sprout.

He had forgotten her. Like most people, Severus Snape had forgotten her. She turned her attention back to Sprout, though it kept wandering back to the man who never looked at her again for the entire evening. As the room cleared at the end of the feast, she headed for the exit in the wake of the children.

"Claire." Dumbledore's voice stopped her. "How nice of you to come. I quite noticed that you were late. Apparently old habits do not die immediately." He smiled and forestalled her. "No, no, Claire. I jest. I hadn't expected you to show up for the feast at all and I was quite pleased to see that you did." He began walking towards the Great Hall's exit with an air of continuing the conversation, so she accompanied him. "I didn't bring up your class at the feast. I fear the enrollment is quite small. There seems to be little interest this year in technomancy. You shall have but three students." He stopped to look at her over his glasses. "The Weasley twins and Hermione Granger. Alas, no others signed up."

She chuckled slightly. "And why, pray tell, are you inflicting the Weasley twins on me?"

He pretended a look of surprise. "My dear Professor Armont, you wound me. Truly you do. I can hardly determine who takes what electives, now can I?" But his eyes twinkled with that merry smile that told anyone who had known him for more than two seconds that he wasn't likely serious.

She raised her eyebrows, trying to ignore the uncomfortable and new sensations that "Professor Armont" roused inside her.

"Oh, very well," he capitulated jovially. "They like to experiment, you see. Creating new things. Particularly enchanted things. It would do well for them to have a bit of direction in that. Greatly intelligent people can do wonderful things. Wonderful things, and sometimes terrible things, entirely on accident."

She sighed, resigned. "So why the girl, then?"

He shrugged. "She signed up and would not be dissuaded."

She gave him her most suspicious and unconvinced look. "You couldn't convince someone of something?" she imbued the word 'you' with as much emphasis as she could without making it comically overdone.

He shrugged. "I didn't try very hard." He smiled at her. "She wanted to take a full course load, but wasn't yet allowed any of the others she wanted. Taking your class will help her stay busy, I should think."

They wandered along the hall in silence for a time. "I would appreciate a visit in my office tomorrow around mid-morning, if you're available. There are things I should like to discuss with you."

She inclined her head and smiled. "As you wish, Professor Dumbledore, sir."

He shook his head dryly. "You are irrepressible, Claire."

She bid him good night and left towards the quarters she would occupy for the duration of the school year. She stopped in the hall, though, and gazed at the portraits around her. She had been fascinated by them in her childhood and had spoken with many of them before finally realizing that they weren't really people, but a sort of echo.

These portraits had made her uneasy once she understood that. Now, she looked around herself and felt a chill crawl up her spine. They were all staring at her and she had spent so much time being unnoticed that it was downright unnerving. With a tiny tap of her finger-wand against her leg, she reinstated the spell that encouraged people to look away from her. She wasn't invisible, precisely, more that the spell worked on the minds of others to make her uninteresting. Like furniture or wallpaper.

A silvery form appeared from the wall, oozing through it like goo. Peeves the poltergeist stopped, looking around. "Who's there?" he asked. Finally his gaze fell directly on her. "And who are you, skulking around the castle at nigh—" he stopped abruptly. "Clairey fairy quite contrary, is that you?" He glided over and pulled her hair.

She ignored the tug at her hair. "Hello, Peeves. Missed me, did you?"

"Not at all," he responded in the sneering tone he always used. He didn't seem to have any other that she'd ever heard.

She smiled. "Well, at least you remember me."

He made a small huffing sound. "How could I not? You're very naughty, Clairey Contrary."

"I'm very much not, Peeves. Why, everyone else thinks I'm quite agreeable."

"Well, they don't really know you, then, do they?" he swirled in the air, head over heels. "They don't know your secrets like I do."

She smiled and raised her wand finger, slowly making a 'come here' gesture with it. "I'll tell you more secrets, Peeves. I've been practicing." She drew the last word out long and slow, making it sibilant like a hiss.

He disappeared with a 'pop'. She laughed. She'd missed Peeves in a weird sort of way.

She arrived at what would be her room now and was pleased to find her bags there already. What surprised her was that someone else was in her room, as well.

"Hello, Severus."

He whirled to face her, his black cape swirling dramatically and she almost grinned. It was very Severus, that cape and the forbidding black shirt with more buttons than her entire closet.

He blinked at her. "You look different."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Hello, Claire," she prodded him.

His eyes narrowed. "Hello, Claire. You look different." In the same way he had when they were kids, he went on without stopping. "Dumbledore is meddling again. Did you see he's brought Harry Potter here—"

"How have you been, Claire? Long time no see, Claire. I missed you, Claire." She walked into the room and dropped her own cloak onto the back of a solid chair she had sent ahead.

He scowled at her. "Yes, yes. How are you, long time no see, I missed you. Does that suffice?"

She grinned at him. "Why, Severus, I missed you, too!" She leaned casually against the chair. "How about a hug?"

He shifted, his spine going very straight. With an irritated twitch, he pulled his shirt front straight by jerking it downward, a habit she remembered. He was irritated. "No."

She chuckled this time. "Pity. I would be quite happy to chat with you, Severus. Tomorrow. It's quite late at the moment, you know."

He looked like he was about to say something, then closed his mouth with a snap. "Fine." His tone was cold and sharp.

"Fine," she mimicked him.

He narrowed his eyes again and stalked toward the door. He hesitated, though, turning toward her as if to say something, but then turned back to the door. He stopped again in the threshold. "People call me Snape."

She looked at him over her shoulder. "Are you asking me to call you Snape?" She gave the P at the end a strong emphasis and released it with a little 'pop' sound.

He half turned as if to leave as she spoke, but stopped at the little popping sound she made at the end of his name. "No." He slammed the door when he left.

She grinned at his discomfiture, then sobered and sighed. As always with Severus, she had no real idea whether the conversation had gone well or poorly. He was always angry, although in all the years they'd spent at Hogwarts as children, he had never once harmed her.

It had taken time, but she'd finally stopped giving in to his manipulations and had simply taken a degree of control over their conversations by refusing to cooperate. He would often barge into her presence and begin ranting. He did this with everyone, of course, but she didn't really fancy it. He had gotten to a point somewhere around year four where he had started gritting out the courtesies. By the end of year seven, he had seemed to enjoy the small moment of greeting they, and they alone, had shared.

She looked at the closed door. He looked different, as well, but she'd recognized him. He hadn't had the same courtesy for her. She scowled. That had smarted more than a little. Naturally, Severus being Severus, he hadn't acknowledged the lapse, either. No "Hi Claire," just straight into "Dumbledore this, Dumbledore that," and apparently now he had a new fixation.

Why had she come here?

Right. Because of Dumbledore, of course. Why else? She looked at the door for a second and straightened up. Dumbledore and the safety of the kids at the school, that was all. That was all she would admit to anyone, including herself.