A/N: All characters belong to JK, except Antonia. Blah blah blah, et cetera, et cetera. Thanks so much to those who've put me on Author Alert status. Talk about an ego stroking! J And reviews from all have been greatly appreciated. However, the ratio of readers to reviewers is still horrendously low! I mean, 46 readers to one review! Come on! Please? hopes she's groveled sufficiently And, thanks for reading.
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It was the first day of term. After Severus and Antonia spent an uneventful summer (with bickering kept to a minimum), they were definitely ready for the term to start. To Antonia, it represented a new beginning. To Severus, it represented being one year closer to having the Defense Against the Dark Arts position… and being rid of that damned Potter brat.
As the students filed in the Great Hall for the feast, there were murmurs and whispers, and numerous surreptitious glances at the professors' table. They could hear whispers of "hot" and "babe" from some of the students.
At the Slytherin table, Draco found himself staring at the blond woman. He was in love. There was this beautiful woman with hair as golden as his was white… Her hair fell past her waist. She was… Wow.
At the Gryffindor table, the fifth years were chattering like mad over the blond at the professor's table, as well. "Harry," Ron hissed. "Look at the woman sitting by Snape!"
Harry glanced over at her and nearly toppled out of his chair. "She's really pretty… Look, Snape isn't glaring at her like he usually does when we get a new teacher."
"Maybe she's not teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Ron suggested.
"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione scoffed. "That's the only position open."
"But look at her," Ron protested. "She's way too pretty to teach Dark Arts…"
Hermione responded defensively. "Why can't a woman teach Defense? Do you think that we aren't smart enough or brave enough?"
Ron opened his mouth to respond when Dumbledore stood up.
"Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts'. Before us spans a new year, bright with possibilities. We have new faces, new prefects…"
At the Gryffindor table, Hermione beamed.
"…and new professors. I'd like to introduce Professor Snape, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
"They can't have made Snape a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" Ron hissed.
"Well, Dumbledore just said that they did…" Hermione looked ill.
"He still hasn't introduced us to the woman," Harry pointed out quietly.
Meanwhile, the Slytherin table had erupted into cheers. Their head of house finally had the perfect position that he'd wanted. And they'd finally have a good Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
Draco smiled, a small satisfied smile. Yeah, this was going to be his best year at Hogwarts' ever.
But, even at the end of the feast, no one truly had a clue as to who the woman beside Snape was.
* * *
"Are you ready for tomorrow?" he asked as they both disrobed for bed. (And, for all those out there that are wondering if it's boxers or briefs, the answer is none.)
She shrugged off her pure white dress robes, revealing alabaster skin underneath. "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose…"
He gave her a tiny, affectionate smile. "No wife of mine will do poorly in the Dark Arts. We've worked on your lesson plans. You'll have no problems with the Slytherin students, unless they want to experience the way that I treat Gryffindors… And you'll have no problems with Gryffindors because they won't want to deal with McGonagall… Hufflepuffs are too stupid to cause a problem, and Ravenclaws are... well, you were a Ravenclaw."
She slipped between the sheets and felt the reassuring shift of weight as her husband lay down beside her. "Have I shown you my appreciation for all the help you've given me?" she purred, looking unbelievably sexy as she lay on her side.
He faced his wife. "Not in the least," he sniffed, sounding offended.
"Well… I guess I'll just have to do something to let you know how appreciated you are…" She rolled him flat on his back and began placing light, feathery kisses all over. Her lips gently brushed his face and neck, coming so close to his own lips… Her fingers skillfully traced over his body.
He grasped her waist and brought her close against him. He kissed her, gently at first, and more and more insistently. "God, I love you," he whispered against the softness of her flesh.
She kissed him again, and collapsed in the safety of his arms. "I'm so lucky to have you…"
He kissed her forehead and rolled them both on their side. He slipped one of her silky thighs over his hip and heard her sigh with contentment as he traced his fingers up the smoothness of her shapely thigh. It never ceased to amaze him how well she fit against him. Like they were made for each other.
Gently, Snape rolled his wife on her back. His lips were on her slender throat, and slipping further down. His thin lips closed over one dusky nipple, and he lavished attention on her full breasts until she moaned with delight. He felt her trembling fingers curl into his back, clutching him against her as she wrapped her long legs around him.
In a way, the sounds she made when he touched her were as wonderful as feeling her flesh beneath him. She loved him and trusted him enough to let go and to submit, rather than be the dominant one. That was a thing of beauty.
He gently slid his hands on her biceps, pulling her hands off of his back and putting them over her head. He felt her tremble against him, her blue eyes closed and her breathing ragged. Her fingers curled around the pillows above her head as his lips left a blazing trail down the lushness of her breasts and down the flatness of her belly.
"Love you," she exhaled, her voice ragged.
He looked up at her with onyx black eyes and gave her a crooked… almost smile. Her legs tightened around him as he slid inside her. He heard her soft sigh of pleasure…
The two lovers fell asleep entangled in each others' arms.
The Snapes awoke to the curtains being jerked open by a team of fairies. Antonia blinked a couple of times and stretched. It was time for her to get up, anyway. The fae just chose increasingly irritating ways to do so.
Severus buried his head under the blankets, moaning, "The light, the light, the terrible light."
Playfully, Antonia swatted him with a pillow. "First day of classes, sleepyhead. Get up."
He groaned beneath the coverlet. "God, I hate mornings."
She grinned impishly. "Let's see what I can do to convince you that mornings," she purred, slipping a delicate hand under the covers.
He sighed contentedly when he felt her fingers trail lightly up his back. She started to crawl under the covers with him when he bolted into a sitting position with a yelp.
"What?" she asked, puzzled. She hadn't done anything to him… Her hands were actually warm, for once…
He showed her his left arm. The Dark Mark burned black. "You know that I have to go," he said, stroking her face tenderly.
She bit her lip and tried to keep the tears out of her eyes. "I know," she choked out. She watched him slip out of the bed and put on one of his black robes.
"I love you," he reminded her as he picked up his broomstick.
She rushed out of bed and threw herself into his arms. "Just be careful. Do whatever you have to do, but don't let him kill you," she cried, her voice muffled against his robes.
He kissed the top of her head and stroked her blond locks. "I won't do anything stupid. I have something to live for, this time."
She choked on a barely suppressed sob.
"Antonia, it's time," he whispered, gently disentangling himself from her embrace. He threw some powder in the fireplace and watched the red flames turn green. "I'll be back as soon as possible."
"I'll tell Dumbledore what's happened," she offered as he stepped into the fireplace.
He nodded, and announced, "Astronomy tower." And he was gone.
Antonia bit her lip and slipped on a black silk robe. She quickly tore it off and threw it down. He's not dead, Antonia. No mourning colors for you, she thought, quickly pulling out a deep blue robe. Not only did it match her eyes, but it was in her old house colors. Much better. You will not dress like a widow before your time, she reprimanded herself.
She shooed away the fae as they swarmed in, wanting to put up her flowing blond hair as she often let them. "Not this morning. No time," she said, impatiently running a brush through her own hair.
One of the fae made a very rude gesture with her middle finger and buzzed off.
"Same to you," she grumbled as she headed into the 'loo to brush her teeth.
Five minutes after Severus's departure, she was rushing out of their bedchamber to the Great Hall.
"Good morning, Antonia," Dumbledore greeted as he spread jam on a slice of toast. He saw the glint in her eye and quickly set down the knife and toast. "Yes, let's go to my office…"
Quickly, she ushered him up the stairs. "Severus is gone. He's been called."
Dumbledore nodded grimly. "We'll just have to cover for him until Voldemort allows him to return."
"I have the morning off. I can teach Gryffindor/Slytherin fifth years this morning, and then take the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaws after that, but I have my own classes to teach in the afternoon…"
"I will take his afternoon classes," Dumbledore offered.
She nodded. "Hopefully, he'll be back by then, and not too damaged… I'm sure the Dark Lord doesn't want him to create a fuss… I can't believe he'd call him now, on the first day of term…"
"I can," Dumbledore said quietly. "He would want to have proof for himself where his loyalties lie. If they were with me, then Severus would not have gone."
"But… his loyalties are with you, sir," she protested.
"I know. But Voldemort cannot."
She nodded and allowed Dumbledore to escort her back down to the Great Hall. She tried to eat a blueberry pancake. It tasted like saw dust.
She felt the curious eyes of the students upon her as she put down her fork and said quietly to the teacher, "I can't eat this. I'm just going to go ahead and prepare for my first lesson."
Dumbledore nodded understandingly. Even McGonagall looked sympathetic to the witch's plight.
Amid curious glances and whispers, Antonia regally swept out of the Great Hall, holding her head high.
* * *
Students poured into the potions dungeon, all showing up on time. Antonia stood at the front of the class, watching the damp dungeon fill with students all clad in black. She saw them stare at her with complete amazement. And she would have sworn she heard whispers including the words "hot", "sexy", and "beautiful." If she wasn't mistaken, she'd also heard a student refer to her as "walking porn." She tried to look exceptionally stern.
She looked at the clock and began speaking at nine a.m. sharp. "Good morning. I am Professor Snape, and I'll be filling in for Professor Snape for the morning." Against her will, she smiled at how ridiculous that sounded.
Students were looking at her as though she were mad.
"That was about as clear as mud, wasn't it?" she sighed. "Allow me to further clarify. I am Professor Antonia Snape. I will be filling in for my husband Professor Severus Snape for the morning."
A student on the Gryffindor side raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss…?" Antonia responded.
"Hermione Granger. Are you our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?" the girl with the bushy brown hair inquired.
"Yes. Now, on that note, let us worry about the Dark Arts when it is time. At the moment, we are on Potions. Can you all please turn to the first page of Moste Potente Potions for Fifth Year Students?"
Half of the students were rustling through their bags for their books, the other half was watching a swarm of fairies carry a large tome over to the witch. The entire class was watching as the fae turned the book to the appropriate page.
"Fairies?" a boy with white blond hair on the Slytherin side sneered. "Our Dark Arts teacher has fairies chasing after her?"
She affixed him with a withering glance that would have frightened Severus Snape himself. "Yes, Mr. …"
"Malfoy," he responded haughtily, aghast that the woman didn't know his name. "Draco Malfoy."
"How very nice for you, Mr. Malfoy. Yes, as you see, those are fairies. They have proved more useful to me than a thousand house elves. And I would remind you to keep a more respectful tone in your head when you address me. I assure you, I do have far greater influence over the head of your house than you do. And I will not hesitate to use it if you cannot mind your manners," she responded icily.
The Gryffindors all looked at each other, amazed. She married Snape? She was way too cool to have married him…
"Apparently, the first thing on the agenda for the day is Shrinking Potions. Neville, I've been warned that you are positively abysmal with potions. However, feel secure knowing that I am not going to scream at you, nor will I dock your house points if you botch it. I am here to help you, not to terrorize you."
The little round boy nodded, looking, for the first time ever, remarkably at ease in the dungeon.
"What we'll do," she began, "is take the belladonna… Make sure you wear your gloves for this… And we'll chop it up very fine. Mind you, don't shred it, but chop it as finely as you can. Your knives should be sharp enough for the blade to cleanly slice it if you just press down on it. Don't drag your knife across to slice. That will ruin it."
Without even glancing over in the Slytherin direction, she remarked, "And, Mr. Malfoy, if you would so kindly resist the urge to project your blade in the direction of the Gryffindors, particularly one Mr. Harry Potter, it would be greatly appreciated."
She looked at Neville reassuringly. "That's right, Mr. Longbottom. Gently, not too much effort. Remember that the belladonna will not jump up and bite you."
The little witch glided around the classroom, seeming to float, so graceful was her stride. "Careful, Mr. Thomas. We want to make a shrinking potion, not a shrinking poison. Not too much belladonna. It's incredibly toxic."
She glanced at the tall boy with red hair. "Mr. Weasley, right?"
He nodded, glancing at her skeptically.
"Of course. You've got your father's red hair," she smiled.
Antonia spoke aloud to the class. "Now we powder the orris root. Pull out your mortar and pestle from under your desks, please?" She waited until the shuffling had slowed, and said "Use only half an ounce of the orris, please. Measure carefully. This is, in fact, a very difficult potion. I rather would have… Well, that's neither here nor there. But do be careful. I would hate to have a student explode because he used too much orris…"
"Miss Parkinson!" Professor Snape snapped.
The pug-faced girl looked up at her with surprise.
"You weren't going to pour that excess orris into Mr. Longbottom's cauldron, were you?"
"No, ma'am," she responded sullenly.
"I would certainly hope not. Mind you, I am not the Professor Snape that you are accustomed to, but I dare say that he would find such a behavior from one of his own house to be entirely unacceptable," she replied sharply, her lips pressed together.
Actually, no, ma'am, he'd probably take points from Gryffindor…Harry thought. He liked this Professor Snape. She seemed to be… fair. And non-partisan, apparently.
"Mr. Finnegan! Do not flick that eye of newt across the room!" she hissed. "If I have to reprimand one more of you for this childish nonsense, I will not bother referring you to your potions master. I will deal with you myself. I do not play favorites, and I do not have patience for endless stupidity while working with hazardous chemicals!"
The class then behaved themselves and did some rather successful potions making.
"Mr. Longbottom, may I see you after class, please?" Antonia asked pleasantly as the students packed up their possessions.
Neville's round face fell as Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at him with great sympathy.
"Yes, Professor Snape?" he stuttered as he walked up to her.
"Neville, relax. I'm not going to scold you, scream at you, take away points, or give you detention."
He relaxed… but just barely.
"You did a very good job on your potion, today. The consistency was adequate, and it worked properly. Did you do this on your own, or did you have help from another classmate?" she asked gently.
"Hermione helped some," he admitted.
She smiled, refreshed at not having to look up too much. The boy was only a little taller. "I understand that you have difficulty with this class. Would you like assistance?"
He looked terrified that she would relay this conversation to her husband and said, "Thank you, Professor Snape. I-I have to go to transfiguration, now…" The pudgy little boy ran out of the dungeon.
She sighed and shook her head. "Ah, Severus, you've got those children terrified of you." But, then, she reminded herself, she did marry a complete and total ass.
Her second potions class passed without a hitch. First year children from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. There was a little girl named Carmen from Hufflepuff that would give Severus fits. She melted her cauldron and burned up part of the desk by adding the eye of newt before the dragon's blood, rather than after.
"Honestly, Carmen! Can you please listen to my instructions, rather than trying to rush ahead? I have no desire to send you back home to your mother in pieces because you steadfastly refuse to listen to my instructions!"
"Sorry, Professor Snape," she quivered.
Ye Gods, Severus, if this is how my boys behaved in your class, then I'm going to have to give you a medal when you get home. I'd be tempted to kill them, myself!
"Remember, students, that I am not your regular potions master. I will see the Hufflepuffs tomorrow, and the Ravenclaws on Wednesday.
She left the potions dungeon after all of her student and trudged up to the Great Hall for luncheon, worried about her love. Severus, please be okay. I don't think I can do this without you.
She was about to round a corner when she heard a group of boys talking.
"You mean that blond witch at the table is Snape's wife?" a voice whispered, amazed.
She heard the familiar voice of Ron Weasley. "Yeah, I know! How the Hell did a slimy git like Snape manage to marry a dish like her?"
"Ugh! I've been fantasizing about Snape's wife! That's disgusting!"
"He must have used a love potion. There's no other way that someone that beautiful could trouble herself with a vicious git like that," another voice decided.
Antonia was shaking with rage. How dare they? She walked around the corner, and saw six very uncomfortable looking boys.
"You six, my office. Now," she hissed, her voice deadly, her blue eyes colder than the Hogwarts lake.
They looked very nervous as they followed her through various halls and corridors. "Sit," she snarled, pointing to a couch. The door magically slammed shut behind them.
They all jumped and sat where she indicated.
"I want your names. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Thomas, and Mr. Finnegan, I am already familiar with the three of you."
Ron Weasley's ears were turning pink, while Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan looked decidedly uncomfortable.
"Fred Weasley," one of the twin boys stated.
"George Weasley," said the other.
"Lee Jordan," said the last boy.
"Let me tell you something," she snarled, perfectly enraged. "I am married to Severus Snape by my own choice, not because of something that your illustrious potions master brewed up. If I ever hear you or one of your little friends imply something so vile, disgusting, and deceitful again about my husband, you will find out exactly how much alike Severus Snape and I are in temperament. In fact, you may even discover that I'm worse."
All six boys gulped before her.
"What's more, if you had any inkling as to what sacrifices that man has made for the wizarding community, you would be singing his praises, rather than participating in undeserved defamation of his character."
"Don't cross me. Any of you. I don't care that you are all mighty Gryffindors. I don't care that you, Mr. Weasley, are Harry Potter's best friend." She glared at all three Weasleys. "I don't care that you, Fred and George, are Quidditch beaters. Nor do I care that your brothers are legendary. That will have no bearing on the behavior that I expect of you. Mr. Thomas, Mr. Finnegan, you will be in my class this afternoon… It's never very fun to have a class when a teacher is waiting to pick apart everything you do, is it? And, Mr. Jordan, do you wish to continue to be announcer for Quidditch games in your seventh year?"
All of them looked horrified.
"I will not tolerate rude comments and innuendoes about my marriage. Not from any of you. Now get out of my sight."
The boys practically ran out of her office.