Chapter Two

Okay, guys, I realized that the chapters were much too short, and so I have combined several of them, meaning that we have now lost two chapters—but I'll write quick, and we'll gain them back in no time. Hope this doesn't disturb y'all deeply.

Chapter Two

When he arrived for the pre-term staff meeting, he saw Dumbledore waiting for him with a look of disquiet in his eyes. Unnerved by this, he walked closer to the headmaster and peered at him curiously.

"Severus, where have you been?" Dumbledore asked.

"I met a family in the Leaky Cauldron and showed them around Diagon Alley," Snape said nervously, not wanting to divulge his secret. "The boy will be attending school here."

"Grayson Oliver?" Dumbledore surmised, and Snape nodded. Sometimes he found this ability of the headmaster's to be a bit disconcerting. "Tell me, did you also meet hishis sister?"

"Do you mean Sylvia Oliver? Yes I did. She tells me that she will be here doing an archeological survey?" Snape said, putting more than a hint of question in his voice. He found this all very baffling.

"Yes," Dumbledore said simply, the disquiet coming back to his eyes. "Dr. Oliver has her own reasons for coming to Hogwarts, as well as my reasons. I trust you will help make her stay comfortable."

"Ofof course, Headmaster," Snape said, stammering a bit, for the two had just walked into the staff room, and Snape was staring at the most beautiful woman he had yet to see in his thirty years. She was stunning, with auburn hair and bright green eyes, and she was deep in conversation with tiny Flitwick, who seemed a bit dazed. Snape sat down, still gaping at her.

"Welcome back, everyone!" Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together to begin their meeting. "I would like to introduce our new Divination Professor, Cassandra Vablatsky. She will be filling in this year for Professor Trelawney."

"Yes," Cassandra said, her voice clear and loud in the room, "Sibyll read the signs well and realized that this year had the potential to wreak havoc in her life. She decided it would be best to take the year off, and asked me to step in. I was glad to do so." Several of the teachers were glaring at Cassandra, McGonagall in particular. They didn't put much stock in divination, and never had.

"Miss Vablatsky," Snape interjected, giving her a smile, "didn't you write our textbook for the course, Unfogging the Future? You seem very young to have accomplished so much."

"Yes, the Sight came to me very early in life and I have been able to use it well," she answered.

"And we are all glad to have you with us," Dumbledore said, bringing the meeting back to order, and continuing with his business.

He caught up with Cassandra as she left the staff-room.

"It really is so good to have you here," he said, in what he hoped was a charming voice. "I am a bit rusty on Divination; perhaps you could give me a few pointers."

"Oh, I would love to," she said a bit distractedly. "And you are the Potions Master, aren't you? There's actually a bewitching potion that I was trying to remember the ingredients to yesterday and I was totally lost." She smiled, and he suddenly felt weak. "Could you help me?"

"Yesyes of course," he answered, realizing that this year at Hogwarts would be far from boring.

***

"Sevy! Hey, is that you? How are you?"

This was the odious sound to which Snape was forced to respond on September 1, the day on which the students were on their way to Hogwarts via the train. He turned slowly in the direction of the voice, hoping against hope it wasn't who he thought it was. But to whom else would an American accent belong? There was Dr. Sylvia Oliver, dressed in pale lavender robes and smiling almost sickeningly at him.

"My name," he said between clenched teeth, "is Severus Snape, master of this school. I would prefer it if you called me Professor Snape. Even Severus would be better than thatthatthat misnomer that you just used."

"Sevy," she said, laughing, "I didn't ask for your permission! I'm going to use it anyway."

"Don't expect me to respond," he snapped, turning on his heel and heading for the dungeons.

"I don't!" she called after him. "See you at the feast!"

As the teachers sat waiting for the feast to commence that night, he sat alternately openly admiring Cassandra Vablatsky, and receiving disgusted looks from the rest of the faculty. Sylvia Oliver, deep in a quiet conversation with Dumbledore, would look over at him occasionally, and Snape had the distinct feeling that they were discussing him. Eventually, the first years came in for the sorting, Grayson Oliver was placed in Ravenclaw, and three students who screamed "headache", Fred and George Weasley, and Lee Jordan, were sorted into Gryffindor.

"Welcome all," Dumbledore said. "Before we begin, I want to introduce you to our new Divination teacher, Cassandra Vablatsky." Here most of the older boys began to cheer, as she smiled and raised her hand in greeting. "We also have with us Dr. Sylvia Oliver, who will be conducting an archeological survey of the grounds with her assistants. She would love for you to watch them dig, but asks that you not contaminate the sites. With that said, eat! Drink! And be merry!"

"For tomorrow we die," murmured Sylvia, giving Snape a meaningful look.

"What's that?" he asked, a bit unnerved at her statement.

"It doesn't matter," she responded, giving him an obligatory smile.

When Snape faced his first-years, a Gryffindor/Ravenclaw match up, the next day, it was with a certain bitterness. He thought that he wouldn't mind the ignorance of the students near as much if he were teaching them Defense Against the Dark Arts. But that was Professor Elysia's job, and she did an excellent job at it. Perhaps when she was goneshe was old, she would have to retire soonDumbledore would give him the job. After all, he knew more about the Dark Arts than anyone else at the school.

"I am here," he said softly to the awed first-years, "to teach you the art of brewing potions, an art many witches and wizards fail to possess. I want you to understand the delicacy of the perfect ingredients meeting in the perfect combination, to kill, to extend life, to give capabilities that you have never dreamed of before. If you are able to concentrate, you can learn much from me. If not, I will hold it very much in your disfavor." He continued his speech, detailing the best ways to brew potions until the bell rung. He saw the two Weasleys and Lee Jordan still in their seats, apparently planning some mischief.

With a spring in his step (he was feeling vindictive today, and wouldn't mind a nice punishment), he began to walk towards them, but was startlingly upset in this task by the entrance of Dr. Oliver. She breezed into the room, dressed in a tank top and shorts, every inch of her covered with dust, from her frosty brown hair to her well-meaning Nikes.

"Grayson," she said excitedly, giving him a hug. "How was your first day? Are you happy you came here?" She didn't seem to realize that the entire roomful of students was staring at her. In the wizarding community, robes were worn almost all the time, and to see someone with this much skin exposed was a little shocking.

"Come on, Sylv," he muttered, his face bright red, "Knock it off. I can do fine by myself, I don't need you checking up on me."

"You can check up on us!" one of the Weasley boys offered.

Sylvia turned, a smile lighting up her face. "Wonderful," she proclaimed. "I need someone to mother."

From the looks that the twins were now giving, it did not seem that they wanted to be mothered. Snape stopped this exchange with a curt, "Out!" and they fled. Sylvia began to follow.

"Oh, no, no, Dr. Oliver," he said silkily, "I would like to speak with you for a moment; please do stay."

She turned curiously, and the look in her eyes was almost evil. "What is that you want, Professor Snape?" she asked, in the same silky tone that he had employed.

He was taken aback, and stepped toward his desk a little nervously. "I merely wanted to say a word about your clothing. I know things are different in your world," he said a bit contemptuously, "but I believe that the manner in which you are dressed is not respectful to the authority of the school."

The look that had been in her eyes faded and she laughed merrily. "Oh, Sevy, that's so wonderful! 'The manner in which you are dressed is not respectful to the authority of the school.' Positively wonderful! However, it's so hot outside, and if you had the sun baking you all day, you wouldn't want to work in robes. I'll change when I come back in the school, though, don't worry. 'The authority of the school', really." She left, still laughing heartily.