A/N:  It isn't a common thing for me to get two chapters out at once, but this was going well.

DISCLAIMER:  No, unfortunately, I do not own the Potterverse.  But I promise I will put everyone back when I'm done playing with them.

Chapter Two

            There was a new girl in the class.  It was strange that he hadn't noticed it before, but then, he had been preoccupied.  He noticed her now, if only because she was looking at him.  She was wearing green robes, definitely not a standard uniform.  And she was staring at him, which was getting annoying.  Her expression reminded him of the one Snape often wore when he was investigating something.

            You did the right thing, Draco.

            The voice in his head surprised him.  He was almost certain it had been the girl, but when he looked up she was walking toward the front of the room, her back to him.  She sat there, on a corner of the professor's desk.  Her eyes ran over the rest of the room.

            "Good afternoon." She said, smiling, "I would like to introduce myself.  My name is Aislyn Morrigan.  I am your new Defense against the Dark Arts Professor."

            She ignored the stunned expressions on the faces of her students.  She knew all too well that she appeared much younger than she was, especially with her hair pulled back into a ponytail and her face devoid of all make-up.  It was a trait that had often been useful.

            "I understand from the headmaster that some of your former professors have been rather lax in their duties.  I fully intend to make up for that.  But first, you must come to understand something.  It is the one thing which is a true defense when faced with the dark arts."

            She stood, and began to pace before her class.

            "The Dark Arts, as you call them, are not inherently evil. They are part of a primal magic, much more difficult to control than that which you have been taught.  They are also quite easily twisted to the desires of the person using them.  The intentions of the caster are what make these magicks evil. And some of the spells, unfortunately, have recently come to be cast only with evil intentions.  However, it is one of these, supposedly evil, unforgivable curses, that could mean your salvation when faced with danger.  I will not be teaching you any of these curses, but before you can defend yourself against them, you must first learn not to fear them."

            With that, she had the class introduce themselves, and tell her what they had learned, and failed to learn, in the years before.

**********

            Snape's distaste for the new professor radiated off of him in waves.  He could not understand how a wisp of a girl was supposed to be a danger to him, much less how she could possibly have enough experience to teach a class to defend against Voldemort.

            It was all he could do to keep from grumbling at his dinner plate.  The girl was smiling at him.  No, laughing.  She was definitely laughing at him.  Well, maybe not out loud, but he was certain that she must find something about him hilarious.  And dammit, he could not figure out what it was.

            Having had enough, he stood abruptly, but managed little other than knocking over his plate.  He watched in amazement as the plate, seemingly of its own accord, flew back up onto the table.  Not a bit of food was out of place.

            At the expression on his face, Professor Morrigan burst into a full belly-laugh.  Albus, having observed the entire interaction between the two, was laughing as well.

            "What's the matter, Professor Snape?" Aislyn drawled, "Never seen a plate fly?"

            Snape left, his robes swirling behind him, ignoring the howling laughter that had now infected the entire head table.  It was definitely not his best exit.

            "Aislyn, my dear, I do not believe that your little joke impressed our Severus."  Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

            "Then the man needs a better sense of humour, Uncle Albie."

            Dumbledore leaned over and whispered into the young woman's ear.  "Were you able to get anything off of the Malfoy lad?"

            "Of course."  Her expression turned serious, "He's made the decision, Albus, but I'm unsure whether he will stand by it.  He is no deatheater, yet."

            "Anything else?"  the headmaster asked.

            "Nothing that I would be willing to tell, even to you."  She looked down at the boy sadly, "But much that he should come tell you himself.  Or perhaps Severus.  His father has him convinced that you're a bumbling old fool."

            "Even bumbling old fools can be helpful."  The headmaster replied, but he knew that it was probably best if the boy did seek Severus out.  Perhaps not so much for Draco's sake, but for Snape's.

**********

            Hermione pulled Harry away from the conversation at the table long enough to thrust a piece of parchment into his hand.

            "Don't let Ron see it!"

            Suspicious, he waited until he had finished dinner, and walked into the Entrance Hall to open the wrinkled story.  Once he had finished reading it, he stuffed it into his pocket and waited for his friends, who were no doubt delayed by Ron's bottomless pit of a stomach.  When they walked out of the Great Hall, he grabbed Hermione by the arm.

            "Who wrote this?" he whispered.

            "Who do you think?"  she gave him the classic Hermione 'you are a complete dunderhead' look.

            "Damn."

            "I know." Hermione patted him on the shoulder consolingly.  It's not easy to lose an enemy.

            "I'm showing this to Dumbledore."

            "I thought you would."

            Moments later, he was standing outside the familiar gargoyle statue.  Instead of racking his brain for names of muggle sweets, he waited.  The headmaster was still at dinner.

            He saw Snape rush by, scowling as usual, and not long afterwards Professors Dumbledore, Morrigan, and McGonagall walked up, all chuckling about some occurrence at dinner.  The new DADA professor had already caused one argument between Ron and Hermione, mainly stemming from the fact that Ron was having difficulties keeping his eyes to himself.

            "Did you need something, Harry?" the headmaster asked gently.

            "Yes sir.  Could I speak with you, please?"

            "Of course."

            McGonagall and Morrigan excused themselves and walked away together.  Dumbledore spoke the password, "marshmallow crème" and the statue slid back obediently.  Once in his office, Dumbledore sat and looked at Harry.

            "Questions, Harry?"

            "Um, not exactly sir."  He took out the parchment.  "Hermione found this in the library.  Malfoy dropped it."

            Dumbledore took the parchment and read over it quickly.

            "Did you read this, Harry?"

            Harry nodded.

            "Then you will attempt a more peaceful relationship with Mr. Malfoy in the future?

            "Yes, sir."

            "Very well, you may leave."

            Harry got up and walked out, his shoulders slumped.  Dumbledore smiled as he watched the boy leave, and then walked over to the fireplace.  Throwing some floo powder in, he said, "Severus, could you please come to my office?"

            After receiving an affirmative answer, he called someone else in as well.

**********

            Severus collapsed upon his couch, parchment in hand.  He hadn't noticed the small, emerald green serpent which had followed him from the headmaster's office.  It slithered over beneath the table and watched him closely.  He read over the story yet again.  He had no doubts that it was true.  The boy had been in pain, and now Snape knew that his guesses had been correct.

            What he hadn't realized was that, correct as his guesses had been, reality had been much worse.

                        …not good enough, never good enough…Unworthy…

                        …Don't hit me anymore…

                        …Don't hurt me anymore…

                        …I'll do what you want…

                        …I can't do what you want…

                        …I don't want to kill him! … No!

            Snippets from the story seemed to echo through his mind, from his past as well as his student's.  The snake slid up onto his chest, startling him, but it seemed to mean no harm.  He stroked its head softly.  It coiled up, laying its head on his chest.  The presence of the animal was soothing, and Snape drifted to sleep for the first time in weeks without the aid of alcohol.

            Just before he drifted to sleep, he thought he heard a voice tell him not to worry, that the boy would come to him in time.