Stretching out on her bed, after putting her things away – Bella, in a room all her own (Slytherins, creatures of privacy, each had their own rooms once they hit year 4 ), was glad to be arrived. Curled up beside her, already dozing, was Meow. Ignoring the cat, Bella let her eyes roam the room. It was familiar, already baptized in her mass of belongings – almost identical to the room she had last year, but obviously not. The fireplace was not to the left here, the door was . . . and her window didn't have such a pretty grate frame last year. Of course, Hogwart's had a tendency to change itself around from time to time, so there was no way to be absolutely sure. Such a curious place. So much like home, and yet . . . not. After all, she finished the particular thought, Hogwarts only has one poltergeist, thankfully. Then, she grimaced. Poor Peeves is nothing like the three we have at the château. Thank Creation for small blessings.
Then, her mind turned to something else. . . So, Professor Snape saw me looking at him. What to do about that? Anything? Or do I just wait for the inevitable call to his office when he puts a stopper on all my teenage dreams? A smirk crossed her face. Funny, I think I'd be giddy even from that. Such a fancy I have with the man, you'd think him made of gold! Oh, but I think he's a bit more pretty than gold – and a whole lot more difficult to obtain, obviously. She sighs. O, what is a girl to do?
A smile slipped over her face as she heard a purr beside her which interrupted her thoughts, and she turned on her side to face her cat. Meow was then looking up at her with large orange eyes, rolled over on sleek back to have her tummy pat.
"Spoiled little darling." Bella murmured. She was propped up on her elbow then, the hand of which was then supporting her chin as the other gave into her cat's whims. As she did this, she gave a little yawn. Obviously, sleepiness had snuck up on her. It was the normal way of things, Bella being the night owl that she was. Meow swatted her fingers with his paw, and she just rolled her eyes at the feline. Pulling her hand away, she let her body come to a rest on it's back – her eyes focused upon the fabric 'ceiling' of her sheer drape enclosed bed.
How odd that they put the privacy curtains in the single rooms, too. I wonder if Professor Snape's bed has privacy curtains? I wonder what he wears behind those privacy curtains, if he wears anything?
A stifled, tired giggle came after last thought before she went drifting off to sleep, still above the covers – still with her dressing gown on over her black silk nightgown.
*
Not far away from the Slytherin dorms; just a few turns down the twisting corridors of the dungeon – sat Professor Severus Snape. He was in his own rooms, of course. Comfortable with his nightcap in his left hand and a book in his right, propped on his lifted knee as he read it. The dingy, embroidered ottoman beneath his foot was old and tattered, looking very out of place in his otherwise immaculate, black and red swathed sitting room. Trying to concentrate on the words his eyes were scanning, his mind continued to drift back to the Great Hall. Back to her, and her blue eyed gaze of great interest. Unnerving, frightening, gaze. He thought. Intriguing, invigorating, gaze. Beautiful eyes, sweet face – trust and lust mixed into such an innocent countenance.
"O, do stop Severus – she'll drive you to distraction." He told himself sternly, shutting his book closed and bringing his cup of brandy to his lips simultaneously. It seems she already has. "No - She's just a child, an innocent child." An innocent child of 17, soon to be deemed ready for the outside world – the world that knows her Father is in Azkaban for serving He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The world that already hates her for her birth from that man's line. The least I could do is offer her a leading hand. "O, and where would that hand lead? I'm no better than any of the filth in Azkaban."
A loud squawk from the other side of the sitting room drew his attention. A large raven was perched on a stand, winged shoulders hunched in annoyance. A welcome interruption, as always. Yes, that was Nevermore to a T. Constant interruption.
"I fed you already, ungainly bird." Severus stated, getting up from his seat and crossing the room to the midnight colored bird that served in place of an owl.
It replied with a caw, and hopped from it's perch to his left shoulder.
"Ah, just attention hungry then?"
A sound that greeted his ears like a scratchy bit of laughter. Severus nodded his head and walked back to his chair, his fingers lightly petting the bird's feet. It's talons scratched into his flesh just a bit, but this was only natural – and something he minded not in the least. It reminded him that he could still feel – even after all he'd been through, he could still feel. It was elation, in it's own simple right.
"So, Nevermore, what should I do about young Miss Cinder?"
Of course, the bird had no answer save for a tilt of it's head.
"My thoughts exactly." Severus muttered, feeding it a few crumbs from a plate on the table at his side. It had once held scones, that plate. Nevermore enjoyed his little snack, and squeezed Severus' shoulder a bit more to show this appreciation. Then, the bird launched itself from it's wizard perch and returned to it's assigned place in the Master's quarters. "Another good thought, old friend. Sleep sounds a good retreat. And all those bloody dunderheads to deal with in the morning." Severus sighed, shook his head and retired to his own bedroom – leaving Nevermore in darkness, which the bird indeed enjoyed.
Closeted away in his bedroom, Severus removed that day's assembly of robes, and changed into a pair of comfortable Muggle sweat pants. Simpletons that they could be at times, Muggles did at least know their sleep wear. After this switch of attire, the Potion's Master went into his bathroom, heading directly for the little cupboard above the sink. Inside was his key to a goodnight's sleep. Just one little sip would leave him nightmare free, at least for the first few hours – and all he needed was that first few hours to be ready for the coming day. A short lived reprieve for all the horrors that were locked in his psyche, but a reprieve just the same. He took the precious bottle into his long fingered hand, and uncorked the top.
"Cheers." Severus saluted his reflection in the mirror, then knocked back the much needed little sip of potion. He knew he'd be lucky to make it back to his bed before his eyes began to shut, before his ever thinking brain would silence, before sleep would embrace him and take him away from the years of death that lay behind him and all the uncertainty that lay in his path.
~*~
The light of dawn spilled through her window and over her floor, warming the stones just a bit. In her bed, behind the privacy curtains, Bella continued to sleep. . . until a cat's paw batted her nose. Once. Twice. Three . . . she caught the paw between her fingers, faster than light on the last one. Meow's orange eyes greeted her with annoyance, and a hiss only accented the feline's feelings. Bella hissed back at the cat, then let go of it's paw.
The animal hopped from the bed, mewing loudly. Bella sat up, stretched and looked down on the animal pacing her room.
"You really think I should feed you after the way you woke me up?" She questioned her familiar, raising one of her thin, well kept, black eyebrows. The animal purred it's opinion. "All sweetness now, huh? Typical. Typical." Bella left the bed, the hem of her nightdress grazing the floor as she walked, making her way to where she had placed all of Meow's belongings. She produced his bowls a few moments later, one filled with generic cat food and the other with crème that the House Elves had left, as they had every morning for every year Bella'd had Meow with her. Immediately after the bowls had been sat down for him, Meow was over them – not knowing whether to eat or drink first. Bella left him to his decision, and went to get dressed for the day.
When she emerged from her room with her school things, she was dressed in her black, Slytherin encrusted school robes. As always, she wore a little bit of makeup - dramatic black eyeliner to give her almond shaped eyes an extra catty look, a bit of purple eyeshadow to add to the allure, and glittery lip gloss that made her full lips shine even in faint candlelight. Her dark hair was pulled back into a wild, high ponytail - showing off her high cheekbones and the round shape of her face. She had on a bit of jewelry as well. A small silver ankh on a silver chain that hung visible outside her robes and a silver, onyx and emerald poison ring on her left middle finger. Both were special to her. The ankh had a tiny replica of her family crest engraved on it (by magic, of course) and the poison ring was the last gift her Father ever gave her . . . before he was sentenced to the horrid confines of Azkaban. The ring also had a bit of magic in it. It resized itself to fit any of her fingers, at any age, and it could only be worn by her.
Bella waited until Meow left the room before she locked her door and made her way to the exit in the common room. Once she was out of Slytherin Territory, she made her way through the corridors of Hogwart's School to the Great Hall, where breakfast awaited all the students. Taking her place at the end of her house table, she broke out her school books to do some catch up studying over her breakfast. After this, she took her first look at her new schedule. Her eyes immediately landed on Potions for that day, and a smile broke out on her face. Even if it were the third class for the morning, it was going to be an everyday occurrence, as she had two courses of it that year. Her year's normal class, and Advanced Potion Making, which Professor Snape had given her the possibility of last year. She folded her schedule to her chest, and sighed, not caring that it was nearing time for her first class – Transfiguration.
*
Severus sat in his office, giving his lesson plans a final take before classes began. When he came across his Advanced Potions class roll, he gave an unnoticed sigh. It was half blissful, half anxious, that sigh. He'd not forgotten that he'd let Miss Cinder enroll in his advanced course, but it was only then becoming real to him that he would have to deal with her and this . . . interest . . . on a daily basis. That meant he had to find a way to approach it, and solve it so that the outcome would be good and healthy for the two of them (not to mention socially acceptable) and so that he wouldn't lose her scholarly trust. After all, there were only a few other bright minds among the students in his opinion. All of them he knew of were in his Advanced class, including Hermione Granger – whom he would never admit the talent and potential of vocally in public. It wasn't her fault of course, it was just his grudge against a certain bespectacled youth whom Miss Granger choose to waste her intelligent presence on. Now, had she befriended Miss Cinder . . .
"That's a thought there." He stated out loud, rummaging around for the seating arrangements of that particular class. Not a romantic replacement – by mechanics only, of course – one must allow for another's preferences . . . But a friend to give her a sort of social atmosphere, and a friend whose is of her own age . . . Even better. It might not work, who knows? But, if by some miracle they can get over their houses, it might aid a silent solution . . . He scratched out their names from the original seating chart, then placed them side by side – in the middle of the room, so that he could monitor them with ease, but so it wouldn't look like he was paying them any special attentions. "Oh, sweet simplicity . . . May you gift me with help now." He whispered, hearing the sound of footsteps echo down the dungeon corridors. Classes were to begin, apparently. "Bloody," he sighed, caught almost off guard in a way, "here we go . . ."
Severus rose from his office desk, and left for his first class -his lesson plans and seating charts with him. Time to try and beat a few bits of sense into some young minds . . .