**Disclaimer: This story is based upon the "Harry Potter" series by author
JK Rowling. I make no claim to the world she created, nor to the
characters in the original books she penned. I do, however, take claim of
the characters Audrey Lark Windsong, her family and Horus and Corbin, the
hawks. All other characters to be found here-in belong to either Rowling
or friends whom have given me permission to use their own fanfiction
characters. None of this is going to be used to make money, and I am only
writing this for a bit of fun.
Also: I use the Lakota Sioux as Lark's people, please note however, that I mean no offense in making any alterations in that culture for the story. This is, after all, a work of fiction - so don't believe all (or, actually, most) of what you read about the culture here-in. Want to know the truth of the Sioux culture or that of any other tribe? I suggest you do a reference search online!
**Archiving: If you really, really, really want to, just ask me please!(Note: That also means you have to wait for an answer!)
**No MSTing. That means . . . NONE!! No, no MSTing allowed what so ever!
**This story is also posted at kiwibox.com under my name there which is (you guessed it!) Archaic_Raven
**Thoughts are represented this ways : ~ thought ~
**If you don't like the structure, material or whatnot, please don't bother to keep reading it. I don't write for style, I write to make people smile. Okay? So just get off your highly grammatical horses now.
And now, without further disclaimers or author complaints. to the story!
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1
2
3 ~*~ The Heathen ~*~
By: Laura Bishop (Archaic_Raven)
~*~ 3.1.1 Part One ~*~
~*~ 3.2 Old Friends ~*~
The woman apparates as close as she can to where she is headed. She is dressed in a black felt cloak over robes made of doe skin that are fringed in raven feathers. Underneath the cloak, tied to a belt that is loose around her broad hips, is a sheathed hunting dagger. She carries a doe skin satchel that is decorated with dark beads, and in her other hand is a very plain green suit case. The woman does not think of these things though, as her concentration is on the place where she is walking towards. This place holds memories that are both pleasurable and painful, all thick with emotion, spirit and the dreams of a young woman who was nearly led astray. The woman walking has long hair, which is jet black set off by natural, faint red highlights throughout the thick waves that meet her mid back. She wears it loose, save one braid by her face that is decorated with a bluebird feather and a dark blue bead at the top and a light blue bead at the bottom. She has soft, tawny skin that is virtually blemish free. Her body is strong, thin and amply proportioned, though not very tall (she stands about 5'3). On her proud, catty featured face, she wears no make up -as she's been told many times that she'd too pretty to hide what nature gave her -which was no lie. Her forehead and cheekbones are high and elegant. Her lips are lush and perfectly shaped in a cupid's bow, her nose is slightly upturned and well pronounced. Her chin is proud, though slightly pointed, the shape of her countenance like a heart. However, her large, deep set, almond shaped eyes are her real beauty. They are a deep, sparkling emerald green - a feature she inherited from her British mother- and they are one of her favorite weapons. At the moment, they seem misted over, clouded with thoughts and memories and the beginnings of tears. The last mentioned were immediately stopped, and she continued on her way to her destination. It stands nearby, past the small village she has just entered - Hogsmead. This place she remembers well too. Here had been a place of adventure, fun and long walks with dear friends she sometimes has trouble remembering betrayed her not long after those happy days. All because she would not walk the path they had chosen for her. Only one had stayed by her side during that time, only one - and he was going to be at her destination. She had not seen him since just after graduation, when it all really happened, when those whom she had loved from this place put a dagger in her back over something as fickle as fleshly immortality and the matters of family. It was not something she wanted, nor was killing for joy and no other reason. Had it been in revenge or for honor, she would have went along - but to kill from cold blood, over the matter of bloodline? No, she'd known of enough of that in her people's past to want anything to do with it. After all, her Father's ancestors had been hidden away for fear their souls would be taken with their bodies -all because they knew things, knew magic without having to be taught. They - like people from many other tribes - could see the truth without having the masks ripped off for them. The white wizards had helped them hide from those who would have destroyed them long ago, and in hiding most of them still were, growing in the ways things used to be in the 'muggle world' before the 'west was won'. So, members of the Lakota had been taken from the muggle world and hidden in a mental mists where they could continue - and their 'muggle' families could see them, hear them, be with them always even if the white muggles couldn't see them there. It was all very elaborate, and at the same time simple. Fool the brainless muggles who had come to take their homes. The woman smiled at the system her Father had been raised in. She'd lived that way too for half her life with him and her mother until he died, and then her mother had taken her to live in England -where she came from - and there, she had lived a year. Then, the years in Hogwart's came with her eleventh birthday and it all began. The woman stands before the entrance of the castle that is the school. She is there after so long, and a familiar face is there to greet her.
"Ah, Lark, I'm glad you're here." The Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, smiled as he led her inside. "It's been a while, my dear, and yet you still look as though you'd just left after graduation." His eyes go down to her feet. "Only minus shoes, and with toe rings added."
"I never was one for shoes, Headmaster." She looks at her bare feet as well, some of her small toes decorated in ornate silver toe rings. The pedicure she had was pretty too, keep in mind, and her toe nails were painted in green. "I hope that won't be a problem?"
"Of course not dear, just don't step on or in anything troublesome, hmm?"
"I promise I won't, Albus." She smiled.
"Audrey?" Another voice pervades the hall despite the quiet, silken tone- making both the woman in question and the Headmaster turn. She knows who it is before she faces him, for he is the only one who ever called her by her first name, save for her mother and father. He looks slightly different now, as though his life has aged him beyond what he should. His sorrows are written clearly on his expression, the horrors he has seen and the pain he has experienced are apparent in his deep, black eyes. Severus Snape stands before her, still remarkably tall, still very thin, still very pale, still with long black hair - which is now far more greasy than it had once been, she notes to herself- and still looking very much like a hawk. And yet, he looks so very different. He walks to where she and Albus are standing, to look down into her eyes. "It is . . . pleasing . . . to see you again." And still as damned coolly polite. Still as secretive. But that doesn't bother her at all, after all, she shared the nature with him - all Slytherins did.
"It's pleasing to see you too, Severus." She gifts him with a short version of the smile she'd given to Albus. Then, the emerald eyes grow sharp on her old friend. "I hear I got the job you've been coveting."
"Now, Lark . . ." The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes was double sided, something very few people would notice.
"It's alright sir, she's always been the type to rub things in someone's face - regardless of anything." He added the last part with a hiss, looking at her. She just smiles back, raising one thin, dark eyebrow with a nod, acknowledging silently that fault to him.
"And you always have been vindictive, Severus. Perhaps I should watch my back this year?" She questioned gently, watching as his face visibly cleared of annoyance then, but only for a second. This was an inside joke for the two of them, after what had happened so long ago.
"Always, my dearest Professor Windsong." The sharpness was in his voice, but she noticed the humor as well. One had to really know him to know when he was teasing. She knew the truth very well though, she never had to worry about such a thing from him - he'd proven himself to her long ago, when he'd nearly gotten himself killed saving her life. That episode had cost him dearly, cost him in blood and pain, but it was worth it knowing she was alive -and now standing before him, in one piece- and looking as striking as ever. He then looks down at her feet. "I see you still haven't changed at all, either." The look on his face isn't disgusted, just amused, his own arched eyebrows raised in question. ~ Toe rings still ~l, he thinks, watching her amused smirk. ~ Well, no one ever said beauty was always stylish ~. "You do know that your classroom is located in the dungeons, don't you? Wouldn't shoes be advisable, Headmaster, especially on those cold floors?"
"There are warming charms, Severus." She stated before Albus could say anything. "You should know, after all, it was you who dared me to walk out in the snow barefoot our first winter here." She didn't stay long enough to see the look Dumbledore gave the Potion's Master, but she knew it probably made Snape blanch even further. That was one thing she admired about their Headmaster, he could make someone flinch with a look or laugh with a simple smile. An ability she only had the first half of. The second part was something she didn't want to bother with. She makes her way to the room a house elf had appeared to show her to, her mind soon turning to thoughts of the class she was going to teach. Defense Against the Dark Arts, the fifth teacher in five years. Those didn't seem like good odds, but then, she'd always come up on top when the odds were bad. Her mind turned to Severus then, wondering why he had, in fact, not gotten the job the fifth year running. He would be as good at it as she could be, this she knew - he'd taught her some of the things she knew now, and the reverse of them were equal to the cause -if there was a reverse. Her mind then slips to some of her letters that had helped him turn against the ways of darkness that he'd been living in, and he'd been in very deep indeed- and the rest had been his own path after her initial help. She sighs at the memory, wishing he had stayed out of it and come back to America with her. Then, her mind returns back to the original train of thought. Why not give Severus the job he wished so violently for? Maybe Dumbledore had another way to redeem him, and didn't feel as though the Defense class would settle him. Perhaps he knew that all of the memories, all of the adversity with whom Snape used to be would consume him. She shook her head at the thought of what he had gotten himself into all those years ago, and was glad to hear that he had reformed. Though he wasn't the only one to repent of their mistake, he was the only one whom really seemed capable of it. That she had read in his face, and she saw an insolent young boy replaced by a man who had seen Hell -still saw Hell - and was still alive to tell about it. A smile slips across her face.
"I've missed you, old friend." She whispers out loud. The doors are closed though, the house elf is gone, she is alone and she knows Severus will not bother her unless she asks for him or he has a 'real reason' to do so. It is not something she would say to his face anyway, because he needn't be told. He knew, because he felt it to. "It's good to see you again."
~~
He sits in his office, his head in his hands, fingers massaging his temples as he thinks. His mind is on her, of course, of everything that they had ever gone through together. She had saved his soul more than once, and he had saved her life - their friendship was more than that word given to title it. They had been lovers once, but it had been lust driven, they'd seen other people. And still, old jealousies he felt against any one else she'd ever kissed raged through his veins. Love was dead in him, but not the feelings he held for her. Nothing would ever kill them, no matter how much that woman infuriated him, no matter how strange she'd been when they were children and no matter how close he'd come to death for her when they were just nearing adulthood. She was not perfect, nor was he - these things were obvious - but she held his soul in her small hands, and something told him he held hers as well. They had tormented the Marauders together, and been the victims of the return pranks together as well. She had been there for so much of his life, and she knew what his life had done to him. ~ Yes ~, he thinks, ~ we are much more than mere friends - despite how much we can hate one another. And, my dearest Audrey, we could hate each other as forcefully as we could love one another. ~
"I've missed you too." He says out loud to the empty office. ~ Now ~, he thinks to himself, ~ let's see how well the students survive her. ~ A rare smile, unforced and very real, slips across the face of Severus Snape. He respected, cherished and loved Dumbledore and tolerated his co workers, but Audrey . . . She was something else all together.
~ It is good to have an equal again ~, he thinks.
~*~ 3.2.1.1 New Teacher ~*~
Harry, Hermione and Ron sit at the Gryffindor table, talking in low voices as Professor McGonagall led out the 1st year children to be sorted. They watched with everyone else -some far more bored than others - as the little, rag-tag hat began to sing a small ditty about the school, the different houses and what houses liked what features about a person. Then, McGonagall began to call out the names of the children.
"Aries, Baron!" Was called first, and a small boy with dark brown hair and wide, blue eyes took up the old hat.
"Hufflepuff!" The hat yelled out immediately.
"Benton, Elize!" A small, sly eyed girl with platinum hair put on the hat.
"Slytherin!"
"Well, there goes another life - lost to the snake." Ron Weasley, red haired and growing rather tall stated. "Speaking of snakes, Harry, 'Mione, look up at Snape."
"What's there to look at?" Harry asked, trying hard not to fall asleep as the list was continued to be called out.
"He's next to a new teacher again, looking as sour as ever." Ron stated, using a matter of fact tone. "And this new Professor is a girl. A very pretty girl."
"You mean woman, a pretty woman." Hermione corrected. "And is looks all you think about?"
"Yes." Ron narrowed his eyes, making Hermione roll hers. He then looked to Harry, whose head was then buried under two twisted arms. "Oy, Harry!"
"What?" His attention finally had, Harry Potter - the boy who lived - looked up at his friend.
"Snape, the .. gi.." He caught a warning glance from Hermione. ". . .woman next to him, he's not looking as though he wants to kill her!"
"Maybe they're friends." Hermione shrugged, then noticing that Snape was being an amiable conversation companion with the lady. Well, as amiable as Snape could get, that is. He still looked a bit put out about the whole situation - but it was the fifth year he'd been turned down for the job he so wanted.
"Snape? With friends? Hermione, are you feeling well?" Harry asked, his eyes going to what they were talking about. "Damn, he's smiling! Barely, but this is Snape after all."
"Jepson, Mary!" McGonagall called in the background.
"Gryffindor!" They cheered with the rest of their table as the young girl joined them.
"Jezzas, Krist!"
"Slytherin!"
"This is a Twilight Zone moment, isn't it?" Hermione asked Harry, who nodded. They were watching Snape and the new teacher again.
"A what?" Ron questioned, but they just shook their heads at him. A muggle thing, obviously. "Where do you think she's from anyway?" He ignored the odd glance his friends gave one another. "Well?"
"She looks Native American." Hermione said instantly.
"We're gonna be taught by an American? An American who is friendly with Snape?" Ginny, Ron's little sister, had been listening to the conversation and just now joined in. "What's going to happen next?"
"Dumbledore will join Voldemort." Harry mumbled.
"Harry!" The other three chorused. They caught a warning look from McGonagall, then lowered their voices.
"Just a thought." He snickered. "I mean, look there, she's laughing about something Snape said, and he's looking a bit pleased too."
"Harry has a point." Ginny nodded, blushing slightly as she agreed with the certain someone she had a horrendous crush on.
"This is just too weird." Ron stated, shaking his head.
"Zaveen, Andrea!" McGonagall was heard again.
"Gryffindor!" The cheer went up again from their table, and with that the hall grew quiet, the sorting ceremony over. All eyes went to the Headmaster, who was then standing, surveying the crowd of faces around him.
"Welcome, welcome all to and back to Hogwart's! I do hope you are all hungry, so that you can each enjoy a great amount of our banquet! But first, I have an introduction to make, as well as announcements! To my side, you will find one Madam Windsong. She will be your new Defense Against the Dark Art's Professor." He waited until the applause finished, as well as a few cat calls. Beside Windsong, Snape was looking perturbed, but he had clapped -rather slowly -but that was something of a social achievement for him in the first place. When the hall was silent -or nearly silent -once more, Dumbledore continued. "And now, for the announcements. The Forbidden Forest is for no one to enter. It would do everyone well to remember that! Also, Quidditch trails will be held in two weeks, please see Madam Hooch for further information regarding this! And finally, with this said, let us eat!" A wave of his hands, and a great cheer later, the students -as well as the teachers - found themselves beginning to gorge on a wide array of foods.
After the singing of the school song, which was sung out of a general tune as always, the students were on their way to bed - Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Ron going along with them. They were still talking about the new teacher too.
"Her name is Windsong then?" Ron asked, thinking out loud.
"I think its pretty." Hermione and Ginny stated at the same time, then looked at each other and gave a jinx laugh as well. It was becoming a bit frightening for the boys how closely minded the two girls were getting on common things like this. It was like they shared a social brain.
"Well, I still wonder why Snape is being nice to her. It's very unlike him." Harry ignored the two girls, looking over them to Ron.
"Very." Hermione stated before the Weasley could make his own interjection. "Maybe they knew each other from when they went to school?"
"It's a possibility. But then, who would want to be friends with a slime ball?" Ron questioned, finally able to talk after the last interruption.
"Well, Draco has friends - all of them are in Slytherin, mind, but they are still classified as friends - and he's a slime ball." It was Ginny that gave that input, making the others nod in agreement.
"If she is his 'friend', then that may mean she's in Slytherin as well. Or rather, was. . ." Hermione said.
"Just what we need. . . . Another snake running about!" It was Ron grumbling then.
"Snakes don't run -Ron, they slither." His sister corrected him, making their two friends laugh.
~*~ 3.2.1.2 And It Begins ~*~
Lark looks at the schedule in her hands and nearly groans when she comes to her class that doubles Slytherin and Gryffindor 5th years - she has that class 2nd that morning. ~ Just what I need on my first day, ~ she thinks as her eyes narrow in annoyance.
"Good morning." She hears Professor McGonagall greet someone else who has just joined them at their breakfast.
"I'm doubtful it will be." The voice that replied was silken and deep. Obviously, Severus Snape had joined them at the table. As McGonagall mumbled something about 'attitude adjustments', Snape sat down beside the new DAtDA professor. Lark can feel as his eyes slide over to look at her indirectly, the smirk on his face as chilly as a winter breeze.
"Is there something you want, Severus?" Windsong asks, sipping at the black coffee she just picked up off the table before her.
"Did I give such an impression?" He whispers coolly in return, picking up his own cup of coffee and stirring it slowly with a long spoon.
"I forget that you are less than friendly in the morning." She shakes her head, then looks down at the file of papers before her. She takes out the student rolls and begins to memorize names. Her eyes lay on one in particular, the emerald green narrowing. Her fifth year doubles class, on the Slytherin part of the roll. "Not another one." She mumbles out loud.
"Ah, yes, Draco Malfoy." Snape smirks knowingly, letting his eyes drift to the student whom he pretends to like. The boy is looking up at them from his distant table like he knows that they are speaking of him. "He's the very being of his father, Audrey."
"Delightful." She murmurs with sarcasm, looking back at the roll from the young boy with the slick blond hair. She goes to the Gryffindor names. "Well, well, The Boy That Lived. And is he much like James?"
"You can decide for yourself." Her old friend replies with a slight growl to his voice.
"I'll take that as a yes." ~ This day just keeps getting worse, she thinks. First Malfoy's clone and now another James Potter -and one who is a 'celebrity'. ~
"My feelings exactly." Of course he'd noticed the shadows of annoyance cross her face. He's always been good at guessing her thoughts. They take sips from their cups at the same time, not even noticing it. Snape continues to brood over the breakfast table, as Lark flips to the roll for her other classes. Around them, the teacher's light chattered and the low roar of the student's talk lulled her slightly as she read through the names. She isn't aware that it's time to go until she feels long fingers gently grasp her shoulders. "Don't want to be late for your first class, do you?"
"Stop trying to show me up." She hisses lowly, getting up and following Severus and the other professors out of the hall. Some of the students are watching them leave, and others are getting up to go off too.
"Show you up? I'd never dream of trying such a thing." He sniffs, his voice devoid of the humor that she knows is there in the words. Lark only growls beneath her breath as she follows him towards the dungeons. After a few moments, he falls back and lets her catch up. Severus finds himself looking down into her face, admiring the sienna lights of her skin. She continues to walk along silently at his side, her eyes focusing on her files as she goes. He doesn't really know what to say to her, he never really did unless she initiated the conversation, and it annoys the bloody hell out of him that this little creature had such an affect on him. Not that he'd ever let her know that, or even think that. "I'm surprised you haven't hit a wall yet." He comments snidely, walking away from her to his own class. He knows that Audrey has just rolled her eyes at him, it is so like her to do that. Still, though he is annoyed at her very presence - endearing as that presence may be - he goes back to his class room door to watch her continue to her own room, admiring the light green robes she had chosen to wear that day. They are fringed in black silk and covered with tribal designs made by black yarn embroidered by her own hands. Beneath them, her feet are shoeless - her left ankle adorned with a beaded anklet, her toes ringed with silver and nails painted green. He remembers that she wears the same single braid, still decorated with the feather in front. Severus pictures her face now compared to back then, and realizes it hasn't changed in the slightest. And his thoughts are shattered as she closes her classroom door, her girlishly cute nose still buried in the file papers - not even looking in his direction. Severus turns from the door, and goes to his desk, his mood sour as always. There, he waits for his first class of the day, wondering how many things will go wrong that morning as soon as Neville Longbottom walks in.
~~
"She isn't wearing shoes." Ron points out to Harry in a very low whisper as they take their seats with Hermione in Windsong's class.
"And is this a problem, Mr. Weasley?" Their new Professor asks, still sitting at her desk and reading over files. She didn't even look up, or so it seemed to them. Was she a mind reader of some sort? Ron thought to himself, feeling a bit of a blush coming to his cheeks. "Well, sir, I'm waiting for a reply." The truth be told - she knew a Weasley when she heard or saw one. Simple as that. Finally, she looks up at the boy, seeing that he looks a bit bothered.
"No, not a problem, Professor." Ron replied, siting down. He keeps watching her with a look of wonder and surprise. Lark goes back to her file papers, ignoring them all. And then . . .
"She's probably a mudblood." The voice of Draco Malfoy makes its way into the classroom before he does, but soon the presence follows the sound - and the presence is accompanied by two other goons Lark isn't surprised to see. Young versions of Crabbe and Goyle walk into the room with the young Malfoy, and it's a fight for their Professor to keep from retching up her coffee. The blond boy gives her a small sneer as he walks by her desk.
"Mr. Malfoy, anymore words such as that will cost your house points. I may be a Slytherin, but I will not tolerate childishness from someone who is supposed to be a young adult. And, I am not the one who has to face the common room this evening." Her eyes flash up from the papers to look at the boy, and she gives him a cruel smile in return for his sneer. "As I remember -we never took well to losing points, especially when we didn't have any yet."
All of the students watched the intense scene, wondering if Malfoy would take it. His eyes narrowed at her, but he just bowed his head in consent and continued on his way. Their teacher stood then, the smirk on her face showing that she was smugly satisfied with the boy's answer.
"I think she has it out for everyone." Harry whispered to Hermione. Both she and Ron nodded their heads as they watched their teacher walk across the cold floor to stand right in front of all the desks, never shaking from the chill that had to be creeping up her legs. They didn't know about the warming charms she used, of course, but Hermione guessed at it - saying nothing.
"But isn't that the point of this class, Mr. Potter?" Their teacher made the trio look up at her, shocked expressions clear across each face. She raises her eyebrow at them. "After all, in our times -we can't be sure who has it 'out for us', can we? And it's a sad time when paranoia is a good trait to bear." Her eyes take on a haunted glow, and she looks towards Malfoy. "And an even sadder time when trust is for fools." The look is gone in seconds, but the effect stays in the room. A few people look over at Draco, and his concentration is on the woman. ~ His father ~ , she thinks, ~ has obviously told him of me. Funny though, for him to think me a mudblood - but then that's a Malfoy covering for fear, to turn the attention away with hateful words -especially when they aren't true. ~ She lets her eyes travel over the class, her presence making her small frame seem tall. Illusions of mind were always a dear friend of her's, she smiles inside herself. "But, this is the hallmark of our times. It has been this way since I went to school here, when it all really started to begin. I have seen the deaths of loved ones, loved ones who were not on their guard - and I know some of you will see that sooner or later as well. But, for my time here - I hope I can make some headway in the path to each of you finding the strength not to become statistics." Her eyes go back to Malfoy. "And the intelligence not to cause them." With those things said, her 2nd class officially began. "But, before we get to that -we have the minor annoyance of roll call to deal with." The smile she flashed was friendly on the surface, but the surface lied well for her.
Also: I use the Lakota Sioux as Lark's people, please note however, that I mean no offense in making any alterations in that culture for the story. This is, after all, a work of fiction - so don't believe all (or, actually, most) of what you read about the culture here-in. Want to know the truth of the Sioux culture or that of any other tribe? I suggest you do a reference search online!
**Archiving: If you really, really, really want to, just ask me please!(Note: That also means you have to wait for an answer!)
**No MSTing. That means . . . NONE!! No, no MSTing allowed what so ever!
**This story is also posted at kiwibox.com under my name there which is (you guessed it!) Archaic_Raven
**Thoughts are represented this ways : ~ thought ~
**If you don't like the structure, material or whatnot, please don't bother to keep reading it. I don't write for style, I write to make people smile. Okay? So just get off your highly grammatical horses now.
And now, without further disclaimers or author complaints. to the story!
-----------
1
2
3 ~*~ The Heathen ~*~
By: Laura Bishop (Archaic_Raven)
~*~ 3.1.1 Part One ~*~
~*~ 3.2 Old Friends ~*~
The woman apparates as close as she can to where she is headed. She is dressed in a black felt cloak over robes made of doe skin that are fringed in raven feathers. Underneath the cloak, tied to a belt that is loose around her broad hips, is a sheathed hunting dagger. She carries a doe skin satchel that is decorated with dark beads, and in her other hand is a very plain green suit case. The woman does not think of these things though, as her concentration is on the place where she is walking towards. This place holds memories that are both pleasurable and painful, all thick with emotion, spirit and the dreams of a young woman who was nearly led astray. The woman walking has long hair, which is jet black set off by natural, faint red highlights throughout the thick waves that meet her mid back. She wears it loose, save one braid by her face that is decorated with a bluebird feather and a dark blue bead at the top and a light blue bead at the bottom. She has soft, tawny skin that is virtually blemish free. Her body is strong, thin and amply proportioned, though not very tall (she stands about 5'3). On her proud, catty featured face, she wears no make up -as she's been told many times that she'd too pretty to hide what nature gave her -which was no lie. Her forehead and cheekbones are high and elegant. Her lips are lush and perfectly shaped in a cupid's bow, her nose is slightly upturned and well pronounced. Her chin is proud, though slightly pointed, the shape of her countenance like a heart. However, her large, deep set, almond shaped eyes are her real beauty. They are a deep, sparkling emerald green - a feature she inherited from her British mother- and they are one of her favorite weapons. At the moment, they seem misted over, clouded with thoughts and memories and the beginnings of tears. The last mentioned were immediately stopped, and she continued on her way to her destination. It stands nearby, past the small village she has just entered - Hogsmead. This place she remembers well too. Here had been a place of adventure, fun and long walks with dear friends she sometimes has trouble remembering betrayed her not long after those happy days. All because she would not walk the path they had chosen for her. Only one had stayed by her side during that time, only one - and he was going to be at her destination. She had not seen him since just after graduation, when it all really happened, when those whom she had loved from this place put a dagger in her back over something as fickle as fleshly immortality and the matters of family. It was not something she wanted, nor was killing for joy and no other reason. Had it been in revenge or for honor, she would have went along - but to kill from cold blood, over the matter of bloodline? No, she'd known of enough of that in her people's past to want anything to do with it. After all, her Father's ancestors had been hidden away for fear their souls would be taken with their bodies -all because they knew things, knew magic without having to be taught. They - like people from many other tribes - could see the truth without having the masks ripped off for them. The white wizards had helped them hide from those who would have destroyed them long ago, and in hiding most of them still were, growing in the ways things used to be in the 'muggle world' before the 'west was won'. So, members of the Lakota had been taken from the muggle world and hidden in a mental mists where they could continue - and their 'muggle' families could see them, hear them, be with them always even if the white muggles couldn't see them there. It was all very elaborate, and at the same time simple. Fool the brainless muggles who had come to take their homes. The woman smiled at the system her Father had been raised in. She'd lived that way too for half her life with him and her mother until he died, and then her mother had taken her to live in England -where she came from - and there, she had lived a year. Then, the years in Hogwart's came with her eleventh birthday and it all began. The woman stands before the entrance of the castle that is the school. She is there after so long, and a familiar face is there to greet her.
"Ah, Lark, I'm glad you're here." The Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, smiled as he led her inside. "It's been a while, my dear, and yet you still look as though you'd just left after graduation." His eyes go down to her feet. "Only minus shoes, and with toe rings added."
"I never was one for shoes, Headmaster." She looks at her bare feet as well, some of her small toes decorated in ornate silver toe rings. The pedicure she had was pretty too, keep in mind, and her toe nails were painted in green. "I hope that won't be a problem?"
"Of course not dear, just don't step on or in anything troublesome, hmm?"
"I promise I won't, Albus." She smiled.
"Audrey?" Another voice pervades the hall despite the quiet, silken tone- making both the woman in question and the Headmaster turn. She knows who it is before she faces him, for he is the only one who ever called her by her first name, save for her mother and father. He looks slightly different now, as though his life has aged him beyond what he should. His sorrows are written clearly on his expression, the horrors he has seen and the pain he has experienced are apparent in his deep, black eyes. Severus Snape stands before her, still remarkably tall, still very thin, still very pale, still with long black hair - which is now far more greasy than it had once been, she notes to herself- and still looking very much like a hawk. And yet, he looks so very different. He walks to where she and Albus are standing, to look down into her eyes. "It is . . . pleasing . . . to see you again." And still as damned coolly polite. Still as secretive. But that doesn't bother her at all, after all, she shared the nature with him - all Slytherins did.
"It's pleasing to see you too, Severus." She gifts him with a short version of the smile she'd given to Albus. Then, the emerald eyes grow sharp on her old friend. "I hear I got the job you've been coveting."
"Now, Lark . . ." The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes was double sided, something very few people would notice.
"It's alright sir, she's always been the type to rub things in someone's face - regardless of anything." He added the last part with a hiss, looking at her. She just smiles back, raising one thin, dark eyebrow with a nod, acknowledging silently that fault to him.
"And you always have been vindictive, Severus. Perhaps I should watch my back this year?" She questioned gently, watching as his face visibly cleared of annoyance then, but only for a second. This was an inside joke for the two of them, after what had happened so long ago.
"Always, my dearest Professor Windsong." The sharpness was in his voice, but she noticed the humor as well. One had to really know him to know when he was teasing. She knew the truth very well though, she never had to worry about such a thing from him - he'd proven himself to her long ago, when he'd nearly gotten himself killed saving her life. That episode had cost him dearly, cost him in blood and pain, but it was worth it knowing she was alive -and now standing before him, in one piece- and looking as striking as ever. He then looks down at her feet. "I see you still haven't changed at all, either." The look on his face isn't disgusted, just amused, his own arched eyebrows raised in question. ~ Toe rings still ~l, he thinks, watching her amused smirk. ~ Well, no one ever said beauty was always stylish ~. "You do know that your classroom is located in the dungeons, don't you? Wouldn't shoes be advisable, Headmaster, especially on those cold floors?"
"There are warming charms, Severus." She stated before Albus could say anything. "You should know, after all, it was you who dared me to walk out in the snow barefoot our first winter here." She didn't stay long enough to see the look Dumbledore gave the Potion's Master, but she knew it probably made Snape blanch even further. That was one thing she admired about their Headmaster, he could make someone flinch with a look or laugh with a simple smile. An ability she only had the first half of. The second part was something she didn't want to bother with. She makes her way to the room a house elf had appeared to show her to, her mind soon turning to thoughts of the class she was going to teach. Defense Against the Dark Arts, the fifth teacher in five years. Those didn't seem like good odds, but then, she'd always come up on top when the odds were bad. Her mind turned to Severus then, wondering why he had, in fact, not gotten the job the fifth year running. He would be as good at it as she could be, this she knew - he'd taught her some of the things she knew now, and the reverse of them were equal to the cause -if there was a reverse. Her mind then slips to some of her letters that had helped him turn against the ways of darkness that he'd been living in, and he'd been in very deep indeed- and the rest had been his own path after her initial help. She sighs at the memory, wishing he had stayed out of it and come back to America with her. Then, her mind returns back to the original train of thought. Why not give Severus the job he wished so violently for? Maybe Dumbledore had another way to redeem him, and didn't feel as though the Defense class would settle him. Perhaps he knew that all of the memories, all of the adversity with whom Snape used to be would consume him. She shook her head at the thought of what he had gotten himself into all those years ago, and was glad to hear that he had reformed. Though he wasn't the only one to repent of their mistake, he was the only one whom really seemed capable of it. That she had read in his face, and she saw an insolent young boy replaced by a man who had seen Hell -still saw Hell - and was still alive to tell about it. A smile slips across her face.
"I've missed you, old friend." She whispers out loud. The doors are closed though, the house elf is gone, she is alone and she knows Severus will not bother her unless she asks for him or he has a 'real reason' to do so. It is not something she would say to his face anyway, because he needn't be told. He knew, because he felt it to. "It's good to see you again."
~~
He sits in his office, his head in his hands, fingers massaging his temples as he thinks. His mind is on her, of course, of everything that they had ever gone through together. She had saved his soul more than once, and he had saved her life - their friendship was more than that word given to title it. They had been lovers once, but it had been lust driven, they'd seen other people. And still, old jealousies he felt against any one else she'd ever kissed raged through his veins. Love was dead in him, but not the feelings he held for her. Nothing would ever kill them, no matter how much that woman infuriated him, no matter how strange she'd been when they were children and no matter how close he'd come to death for her when they were just nearing adulthood. She was not perfect, nor was he - these things were obvious - but she held his soul in her small hands, and something told him he held hers as well. They had tormented the Marauders together, and been the victims of the return pranks together as well. She had been there for so much of his life, and she knew what his life had done to him. ~ Yes ~, he thinks, ~ we are much more than mere friends - despite how much we can hate one another. And, my dearest Audrey, we could hate each other as forcefully as we could love one another. ~
"I've missed you too." He says out loud to the empty office. ~ Now ~, he thinks to himself, ~ let's see how well the students survive her. ~ A rare smile, unforced and very real, slips across the face of Severus Snape. He respected, cherished and loved Dumbledore and tolerated his co workers, but Audrey . . . She was something else all together.
~ It is good to have an equal again ~, he thinks.
~*~ 3.2.1.1 New Teacher ~*~
Harry, Hermione and Ron sit at the Gryffindor table, talking in low voices as Professor McGonagall led out the 1st year children to be sorted. They watched with everyone else -some far more bored than others - as the little, rag-tag hat began to sing a small ditty about the school, the different houses and what houses liked what features about a person. Then, McGonagall began to call out the names of the children.
"Aries, Baron!" Was called first, and a small boy with dark brown hair and wide, blue eyes took up the old hat.
"Hufflepuff!" The hat yelled out immediately.
"Benton, Elize!" A small, sly eyed girl with platinum hair put on the hat.
"Slytherin!"
"Well, there goes another life - lost to the snake." Ron Weasley, red haired and growing rather tall stated. "Speaking of snakes, Harry, 'Mione, look up at Snape."
"What's there to look at?" Harry asked, trying hard not to fall asleep as the list was continued to be called out.
"He's next to a new teacher again, looking as sour as ever." Ron stated, using a matter of fact tone. "And this new Professor is a girl. A very pretty girl."
"You mean woman, a pretty woman." Hermione corrected. "And is looks all you think about?"
"Yes." Ron narrowed his eyes, making Hermione roll hers. He then looked to Harry, whose head was then buried under two twisted arms. "Oy, Harry!"
"What?" His attention finally had, Harry Potter - the boy who lived - looked up at his friend.
"Snape, the .. gi.." He caught a warning glance from Hermione. ". . .woman next to him, he's not looking as though he wants to kill her!"
"Maybe they're friends." Hermione shrugged, then noticing that Snape was being an amiable conversation companion with the lady. Well, as amiable as Snape could get, that is. He still looked a bit put out about the whole situation - but it was the fifth year he'd been turned down for the job he so wanted.
"Snape? With friends? Hermione, are you feeling well?" Harry asked, his eyes going to what they were talking about. "Damn, he's smiling! Barely, but this is Snape after all."
"Jepson, Mary!" McGonagall called in the background.
"Gryffindor!" They cheered with the rest of their table as the young girl joined them.
"Jezzas, Krist!"
"Slytherin!"
"This is a Twilight Zone moment, isn't it?" Hermione asked Harry, who nodded. They were watching Snape and the new teacher again.
"A what?" Ron questioned, but they just shook their heads at him. A muggle thing, obviously. "Where do you think she's from anyway?" He ignored the odd glance his friends gave one another. "Well?"
"She looks Native American." Hermione said instantly.
"We're gonna be taught by an American? An American who is friendly with Snape?" Ginny, Ron's little sister, had been listening to the conversation and just now joined in. "What's going to happen next?"
"Dumbledore will join Voldemort." Harry mumbled.
"Harry!" The other three chorused. They caught a warning look from McGonagall, then lowered their voices.
"Just a thought." He snickered. "I mean, look there, she's laughing about something Snape said, and he's looking a bit pleased too."
"Harry has a point." Ginny nodded, blushing slightly as she agreed with the certain someone she had a horrendous crush on.
"This is just too weird." Ron stated, shaking his head.
"Zaveen, Andrea!" McGonagall was heard again.
"Gryffindor!" The cheer went up again from their table, and with that the hall grew quiet, the sorting ceremony over. All eyes went to the Headmaster, who was then standing, surveying the crowd of faces around him.
"Welcome, welcome all to and back to Hogwart's! I do hope you are all hungry, so that you can each enjoy a great amount of our banquet! But first, I have an introduction to make, as well as announcements! To my side, you will find one Madam Windsong. She will be your new Defense Against the Dark Art's Professor." He waited until the applause finished, as well as a few cat calls. Beside Windsong, Snape was looking perturbed, but he had clapped -rather slowly -but that was something of a social achievement for him in the first place. When the hall was silent -or nearly silent -once more, Dumbledore continued. "And now, for the announcements. The Forbidden Forest is for no one to enter. It would do everyone well to remember that! Also, Quidditch trails will be held in two weeks, please see Madam Hooch for further information regarding this! And finally, with this said, let us eat!" A wave of his hands, and a great cheer later, the students -as well as the teachers - found themselves beginning to gorge on a wide array of foods.
After the singing of the school song, which was sung out of a general tune as always, the students were on their way to bed - Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Ron going along with them. They were still talking about the new teacher too.
"Her name is Windsong then?" Ron asked, thinking out loud.
"I think its pretty." Hermione and Ginny stated at the same time, then looked at each other and gave a jinx laugh as well. It was becoming a bit frightening for the boys how closely minded the two girls were getting on common things like this. It was like they shared a social brain.
"Well, I still wonder why Snape is being nice to her. It's very unlike him." Harry ignored the two girls, looking over them to Ron.
"Very." Hermione stated before the Weasley could make his own interjection. "Maybe they knew each other from when they went to school?"
"It's a possibility. But then, who would want to be friends with a slime ball?" Ron questioned, finally able to talk after the last interruption.
"Well, Draco has friends - all of them are in Slytherin, mind, but they are still classified as friends - and he's a slime ball." It was Ginny that gave that input, making the others nod in agreement.
"If she is his 'friend', then that may mean she's in Slytherin as well. Or rather, was. . ." Hermione said.
"Just what we need. . . . Another snake running about!" It was Ron grumbling then.
"Snakes don't run -Ron, they slither." His sister corrected him, making their two friends laugh.
~*~ 3.2.1.2 And It Begins ~*~
Lark looks at the schedule in her hands and nearly groans when she comes to her class that doubles Slytherin and Gryffindor 5th years - she has that class 2nd that morning. ~ Just what I need on my first day, ~ she thinks as her eyes narrow in annoyance.
"Good morning." She hears Professor McGonagall greet someone else who has just joined them at their breakfast.
"I'm doubtful it will be." The voice that replied was silken and deep. Obviously, Severus Snape had joined them at the table. As McGonagall mumbled something about 'attitude adjustments', Snape sat down beside the new DAtDA professor. Lark can feel as his eyes slide over to look at her indirectly, the smirk on his face as chilly as a winter breeze.
"Is there something you want, Severus?" Windsong asks, sipping at the black coffee she just picked up off the table before her.
"Did I give such an impression?" He whispers coolly in return, picking up his own cup of coffee and stirring it slowly with a long spoon.
"I forget that you are less than friendly in the morning." She shakes her head, then looks down at the file of papers before her. She takes out the student rolls and begins to memorize names. Her eyes lay on one in particular, the emerald green narrowing. Her fifth year doubles class, on the Slytherin part of the roll. "Not another one." She mumbles out loud.
"Ah, yes, Draco Malfoy." Snape smirks knowingly, letting his eyes drift to the student whom he pretends to like. The boy is looking up at them from his distant table like he knows that they are speaking of him. "He's the very being of his father, Audrey."
"Delightful." She murmurs with sarcasm, looking back at the roll from the young boy with the slick blond hair. She goes to the Gryffindor names. "Well, well, The Boy That Lived. And is he much like James?"
"You can decide for yourself." Her old friend replies with a slight growl to his voice.
"I'll take that as a yes." ~ This day just keeps getting worse, she thinks. First Malfoy's clone and now another James Potter -and one who is a 'celebrity'. ~
"My feelings exactly." Of course he'd noticed the shadows of annoyance cross her face. He's always been good at guessing her thoughts. They take sips from their cups at the same time, not even noticing it. Snape continues to brood over the breakfast table, as Lark flips to the roll for her other classes. Around them, the teacher's light chattered and the low roar of the student's talk lulled her slightly as she read through the names. She isn't aware that it's time to go until she feels long fingers gently grasp her shoulders. "Don't want to be late for your first class, do you?"
"Stop trying to show me up." She hisses lowly, getting up and following Severus and the other professors out of the hall. Some of the students are watching them leave, and others are getting up to go off too.
"Show you up? I'd never dream of trying such a thing." He sniffs, his voice devoid of the humor that she knows is there in the words. Lark only growls beneath her breath as she follows him towards the dungeons. After a few moments, he falls back and lets her catch up. Severus finds himself looking down into her face, admiring the sienna lights of her skin. She continues to walk along silently at his side, her eyes focusing on her files as she goes. He doesn't really know what to say to her, he never really did unless she initiated the conversation, and it annoys the bloody hell out of him that this little creature had such an affect on him. Not that he'd ever let her know that, or even think that. "I'm surprised you haven't hit a wall yet." He comments snidely, walking away from her to his own class. He knows that Audrey has just rolled her eyes at him, it is so like her to do that. Still, though he is annoyed at her very presence - endearing as that presence may be - he goes back to his class room door to watch her continue to her own room, admiring the light green robes she had chosen to wear that day. They are fringed in black silk and covered with tribal designs made by black yarn embroidered by her own hands. Beneath them, her feet are shoeless - her left ankle adorned with a beaded anklet, her toes ringed with silver and nails painted green. He remembers that she wears the same single braid, still decorated with the feather in front. Severus pictures her face now compared to back then, and realizes it hasn't changed in the slightest. And his thoughts are shattered as she closes her classroom door, her girlishly cute nose still buried in the file papers - not even looking in his direction. Severus turns from the door, and goes to his desk, his mood sour as always. There, he waits for his first class of the day, wondering how many things will go wrong that morning as soon as Neville Longbottom walks in.
~~
"She isn't wearing shoes." Ron points out to Harry in a very low whisper as they take their seats with Hermione in Windsong's class.
"And is this a problem, Mr. Weasley?" Their new Professor asks, still sitting at her desk and reading over files. She didn't even look up, or so it seemed to them. Was she a mind reader of some sort? Ron thought to himself, feeling a bit of a blush coming to his cheeks. "Well, sir, I'm waiting for a reply." The truth be told - she knew a Weasley when she heard or saw one. Simple as that. Finally, she looks up at the boy, seeing that he looks a bit bothered.
"No, not a problem, Professor." Ron replied, siting down. He keeps watching her with a look of wonder and surprise. Lark goes back to her file papers, ignoring them all. And then . . .
"She's probably a mudblood." The voice of Draco Malfoy makes its way into the classroom before he does, but soon the presence follows the sound - and the presence is accompanied by two other goons Lark isn't surprised to see. Young versions of Crabbe and Goyle walk into the room with the young Malfoy, and it's a fight for their Professor to keep from retching up her coffee. The blond boy gives her a small sneer as he walks by her desk.
"Mr. Malfoy, anymore words such as that will cost your house points. I may be a Slytherin, but I will not tolerate childishness from someone who is supposed to be a young adult. And, I am not the one who has to face the common room this evening." Her eyes flash up from the papers to look at the boy, and she gives him a cruel smile in return for his sneer. "As I remember -we never took well to losing points, especially when we didn't have any yet."
All of the students watched the intense scene, wondering if Malfoy would take it. His eyes narrowed at her, but he just bowed his head in consent and continued on his way. Their teacher stood then, the smirk on her face showing that she was smugly satisfied with the boy's answer.
"I think she has it out for everyone." Harry whispered to Hermione. Both she and Ron nodded their heads as they watched their teacher walk across the cold floor to stand right in front of all the desks, never shaking from the chill that had to be creeping up her legs. They didn't know about the warming charms she used, of course, but Hermione guessed at it - saying nothing.
"But isn't that the point of this class, Mr. Potter?" Their teacher made the trio look up at her, shocked expressions clear across each face. She raises her eyebrow at them. "After all, in our times -we can't be sure who has it 'out for us', can we? And it's a sad time when paranoia is a good trait to bear." Her eyes take on a haunted glow, and she looks towards Malfoy. "And an even sadder time when trust is for fools." The look is gone in seconds, but the effect stays in the room. A few people look over at Draco, and his concentration is on the woman. ~ His father ~ , she thinks, ~ has obviously told him of me. Funny though, for him to think me a mudblood - but then that's a Malfoy covering for fear, to turn the attention away with hateful words -especially when they aren't true. ~ She lets her eyes travel over the class, her presence making her small frame seem tall. Illusions of mind were always a dear friend of her's, she smiles inside herself. "But, this is the hallmark of our times. It has been this way since I went to school here, when it all really started to begin. I have seen the deaths of loved ones, loved ones who were not on their guard - and I know some of you will see that sooner or later as well. But, for my time here - I hope I can make some headway in the path to each of you finding the strength not to become statistics." Her eyes go back to Malfoy. "And the intelligence not to cause them." With those things said, her 2nd class officially began. "But, before we get to that -we have the minor annoyance of roll call to deal with." The smile she flashed was friendly on the surface, but the surface lied well for her.