CHAPTER 2

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Every step Anastasia took brought back memories. There was the charms classroom where she'd had her first ever lesson at Hogwarts. She remembered the queasy, nervous feeling she'd had that day, and thought how similar it was to the feeling she had now, like her stomach was doing somersaults. Strange, she thought, how all these years later, she was the new girl again- it was like nothing had changed since she was eleven years old.

'Pull yourself together, Ana' she muttered to herself. 'You're a professor now'.

And then she was there. The doors to the Great Hall loomed in front of her. She stood looking at them for a moment, when someone placed a hand on her shoulder.

'Well, come along then.' It was Dumbledore. 'Don't want our food to get cold, do we?'

He opened the doors and walked in, Anastasia following him, grateful that she didn't have to walk down the length of the hall alone. It was exactly as she remembered it-the four house tables, with the teachers table at the far end, the enchanted ceiling...she noticed a group of people sitting around the far end of the Gryffindor table. The professors, she assumed.

Dumbledore made his way to the head of the table and indicated to Anastasia that she should sit in the empty chair beside him.

'Everybody, this is our new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher. Professor....'

'Anastasia Moss, well, well, well' said a voice from the group, a voice she remembered well. It was the voice belonging to the man she had adored from a distance for seven long years, from the day she started Hogwarts to the day she left...

'Hello Severus' she replied 'long time, no see'



Later that night, Anastasia was sitting in her office, deep in thought. So, she was right, the Professer Snape that she'd heard was teaching at Hogwarts was the same Severus Snape she had secretly been in love with all those years ago. Or not so secretly, her conscience reminded her. The way he had acted during dinner told her that he hadn't forgotten...

Snape was also in his office, trying to prepare his first lessons for the start of term, but he couldn't concentrate. So, Ana was a teacher, eh? This could be...interesting. He thought he'd got over that incident, but as soon as he saw her he'd felt seventeen again, he had regressed back to the shy, awkward teenager he thought he'd left behind a long time ago. She was still as beautiful as she was back then, he thought, then corrected himself. It wouldn't do to start thinking like that, not of a fellow teacher. Anyway, beautiful though she was, he couldn't, wouldn't forgive her. She had humiliated him. She'd hurt him. Still, he must be professional, they were adults now, and they had to work together. He could do this, he could be civil to her. He could ignore the still teenage part of his brain that was screaming for revenge....