"I thought you did that ritual yesterday.", her room mate remarked. "How many times is it going to be until this beauty ritual is completed?"
Selene continued through a set of archer push ups. "How many times do you have to charm your hair curls back in? You care about your body how you want and leave me to mine."
"But she doesn't charm her hair two hours before breakfast.", another room mate complained.
The girl, now on her back and flexing at the waist, paused. "Fine. I'll try to learn a silencing charm that doesn't buzz as a side effect. You're lucky I leave the torches off."
"You hear that? We're lucky. I'll take beauty sleep to fetch a marriage contract rather than whatever that is. It seems...sweaty."
Selene was rapidly deciding that her mother knew way more about school than her husband and his "These will be your best friends" ideology. The adjustible dumbell set she had brought with her to a school with no gym was confusing artifact that her room mates left alone only because they could not identify the enchantment it used. They used the desks in the room interchangably, as if she had not organized the one closest to her bed with her own reference books on one side and books borrowed from the Hogwarts library on the other. She did not want to inflict upon them what she could do and she had Seen that she wouldn't: giving her a better sense of confidence that she could keep her wand in her sleeve in her dorm.
Later that morning she was stopped by none other than Head Mistress Macgonagal before entering this particular class. Selene had been allowed, even herded by the prefects to each of her other classes: Runes, Charms, Studies for Muggles, Muggle Studies...
"Yes, Headmistress?", she asked. "Is this about my detentions?"
"Professor Flitwick has made all the necessary preparations for those, my dear.", the elderly witch replied. "Unless you've decided to tell us who attacked you."
The child looked down. "I apologize, Headmistress. But I explained to the professor why I am sticking to my story."
"Well, perhaps a few nights with Mr. Filch will cure your belief that your professors can't judge for themselves what to do with information. Despite you trusting them to teach you with the information they've acquired.", she reasoned.
"But no, I've brought you aside for another reason. Hogwarts has always prided itself on its staff, no matter what curses may have been levied on certain positions in the past. However, caring for the children of other wizarding families is a unique responsibility that can get politically complicated. Hence, most connected wizards and witches do not seek employment with the castle no matter the prestige of being an expert in their field accompanies that. We even have two professors that are serving beyond their time on this earth."
"Yes, ma'am.", Selene acknowledged. "Professor Cuthbert Binns teaches Magical History.
"And Master Severus Snape, Order of Merlin first class - posthumously, teaches Potions. In life he held the record for not only the longest run without a classroom casualty, but the longest holder of the position without garnering a classroom casualty."
The woman straightened up. "Well...yes. While I have personally offered to aid him in resting as well as informing him that the various ghosts of Hogwarts are under no obligations to perform duties, he demanded not to be treated as invalid...or someone without responsibilities.
"However, with you there are certain special circumstances."
The child nodded. "I understand, headmistress. But I also understand why in life he presented a favortism towards the house I've been assigned. I have no expectation of any behavior belying a conflict of interest."
Macgonagal sighed. "I had meant/"
"I know what you meant.", the student cut her off. "No intention of disrespect. Headmistress. Ma'am. Is there anything else you wanted from me? I do not wish to be late for such an expert's class on the first day."
The woman frowned. "Very well. Run along."
Selene rushed to find a potions bench with a good view. She saw changes that must have happened after her parents attended Hogwarts. There were a few house elves organizing ingredients, cleaning cauldrons from previous classes, and maintaining the laboratory. And due to her bothering with a muggle education, she recognized that there were fume hoods over the desks now, although they seemed to be enchanted to draw fumes into them. Other students filed into the classroom, pairing off with people who seemed to be friendly. She could tell that some were tempted to pair up with a self-professed Brightest Witch of Her Age...and then they decided against it.
Great. She was the Slytherin mean girl. And with none of the popularity to turn that hate into envy.
"Silence.", came a cold voice from no where and everywhere all at once. From the middle of the floor floated the darkest ghost she had seen in the school. Like others, he had lost color from whatever he or his clothes appeared in life. But instead of washed out color, he appeared as a flowing black on white, nearly bat shaped silouhetted against the windows trying to further darken the room.
Professor Snape floated down to a level nearly even with the desks if not exactly the floor. Nearly Headless Nick was jovial. Other ghosts gave the impression that they missed their joviality in life. This man may have never been jovial on either side of death.
"I have the unenviable task of finding the next generation of potioneers from the sorry lot that has crossed the threshold of my laboratory. Those whose works will heal the ill and mend the injured, handing out strength and luck with only their ability to limit themselves. In order for me to do so, I must ensure they survive the rest of you.
"Therefore, there will be no foolish wand waving in my class. You will understand my instructions to my personal satisfaction before any of the house elves gifts you with a single ingredient. And while some of you have the wisdom to understand the worth of house points, I assure you that there are things far more exciting that cauldron scrubbing your way through a detention to keep the focus of those too dunderheaded to."
The ghost floated halfway through a table and pointed at a student with his hooked nose. "Why would one favor a copper cauldron over a pewter cauldron?"
Selene immediately put her hand up. She was the only one.
The professor wisped away to challenge another student. "Why would one favor a pewter cauldron over a copper one?"
Selene waved her raised hand.
The ghost sneered. "There's always one." He floated to the ground and slowly, carefully, stalked foot over foot to stand completely outside her desk. "Ms. Prince. An application of jewelweed if your enthusiasm holds."
"You would prefer a copper cauldron for high temperature preparations, and one that required induced magnetic fields."
One student leaned in toward another. "What's a magnetic field?"
The other replied. "Wizards don't know about magnets?"
The first glared at him. "Magnets. How do they work?"
"You would prefer a pewter cauldron if you wanted to slowly simmer in a metallic property of the tin alloy."
"That isn't what I asked of you, Ms. Prince."
Selene nodded. "As for jewelweed - it's an ingredient in Fergus Fungal Budge."
"And something that you haven't simply over heard over the wizarding wireless?"
The girl shrugged. "Well, as long as you're picking on me...um, Pepper Up Potion?"
"You volunteered.", the ghost drawled. "Another."
"Another?"
"Yes, Ms. Prince. Another. Surely the self-described Brightest Witch of Her Age would be just as embarrased to only think of two applications of jewelweed as a chef would be two know of only two recipes including an egg. Particularly when her understanding is still less than theoretical."
Selene, as typical, popped. "I can use a jewelweed to shove it up your/"
If the ghost could slam his hands down on the table it would have, but they only passed through. "10 points from Slytherin, child. And detention."
"Ha!", Selene cried out. "I already have detent...you can have more than one detentions?"
Snape glared at the girl.
"Oh. I should shut up now."
The ghost floated back to the center of the class. "That is the idea your alleged genius produced? Ladies and gentleman, the Brightest Witch of Her Age.
"Stay after class, Ms. Prince."
Selene rose out of her seat and pointed, ready to say something else. She paused mid-rise, her pointing hand flipping upside down into a weighing hand. She withdrew it and sat back down.
After finding more excuses to take points from first year students in their first Potions class ever, all the other students were dismissed. The ghosts robes that constantly swirled in turmoil came to a rest.
"Are you going to dismiss the elves?", Selene asked.
The ghost waved an arm as if humoring her. The elves preparing the laboratory for the next class vanished.
"My mother said that Professor Snape was an incredibly stoic man. Most reports laud his ability to never reveal anything about his real intentions.", Selene started. "Is that how you earned that Order of Merlin displayed on your robes?"
The ghost faced away. "Occlumency requires a magical core. I am dead. So far, muggle patience and self-help have not helped.
"The Order of Merlin is magical in and of itself. I have yet to be able to detach it from my appearance."
"Professor Macgonagal/"
"Should keep to the subject that she knows best.", Snape cut her off. "The woman barely took the advice of a deadman on expanding the threats our students should be aware of."
"If you're behind the curriculum change that took Defense Against the Dark Arts to being simply Defense, then why haven't you returned to teaching it?", she asked
The ghost folded its arms, burying them within his overcloak. "Defense teachers at this school serve for a single year."
"It was published that the curse was broken.", the girl informed.
"Perhaps the dead are more bound by the tradition in their lives.", the ghost replied.
The two remained in silence for a moment. "I didn't mean to be difficult.", Selene admitted.
"You wouldn't be your parents' child if you were not.", Snape replied.
"You have the opportunity for a unique set of talents. However, the Sorting Hat placing you in Slytherin shows that you have an ambition to use them. And perhaps hold plans already."
Selene gazed into the ghost's eyes.
"I am still dead.", Snape reminded.
"I know, father."
More silence, as the ghost wafted away from her and receding into the classroom.
"My mother told me to tell you. She won't forgive you now. Separately, neither will I. You're far too valuable to people to lose you to your final reward. At least, until we can determine that it's one we know you've earned."