Well... this is my first fic in a long time...

so... we'll see about how good I am in updating. Considering how long I'm expecting this to be... I'll probably won't finish it (but it is worth a shot anyways!)

hmm....

Disclaimers: I don't own anything... nada... zip... zero. I'm just a student who's trying to save up money for university. Everything belongs to Madame Rowling. Any sort of original characters that I create... probably belong to someone else as well (as that is how the world works). If you want to use any my characters... go ahead, just tell me, cause I would like to see what you do with them. I always want to write a fic where I incorporate some else's characters (well beside those that already belong in the book)

Oh damn... just realized that I forgot what I named this story... the letters are THANM.... maybe it was This Has Another Name... Me?

To have another name... more?

Thou have attached nothing more? (oh come on Sarah you really aren't that pretentious)

To have a new name? (I don't think I would call this story that).... well maybe... if I don't think of anything better.

The House at never more... (ok maybe I should go with my last suggestion... I'm really terrible at names... grrrr...)

Hope you enjoy.

* * *

The world turned from black to gray. As a little slit of light grew into a thin rectangle. The most important factor was the pain. It contaminated the mind to the point where it was the only subject worth thought.

She wanted to scream, to somehow channel her pain outside of her body. All she could manage was a whimper that sounded like a kitten's mew.

Time passed slowly. She could not tell how long she lay there. But it did take her awhile to realize that she was laying on grass. Green grass and her body appeared to be at the edge of a forest. Sometimes, when she grew tired of thinking of the pain, she tried to remember if she had ever been here before. She was absolutely certain (in one of those rare moments of rational thinking) that she would have remembered a forest that looked so dark and evil. Try and she might, she could not come up with any clue to where she was.

It had taken her about three seconds after she had first regained consciousness that she would probably die here. The pessimistic side was unsure of how long that death would be in coming. The optimistic side was always hoping that it would happen in the next minute or so.

In one of those fitful dozes of sleep, she was woken abruptly. Not by sound, not by pain, and not by nightmares that hounded her dreams. But by a shadow falling over her, blocking out her sun. She knew that it was still day, as she could feel warmth towards the tip of her toes.

Opening her swollen eyes as much as they would allow, she tried to make out the looming figure above her. She then proceeded to give in to the pain, and whimpered out a little cry vaguely forming one word.

"Help."

* * *

He stared at the woman in front of him. She was having a fit. Not that this was any unusual behavior for her, but this time it was for no reason. Normally she would have gotten upset over the quidditch team crowding her hospital wing trying to bother that damned Potter boy. He on the other hand had only brought the pitiful creature here, and the mediwitch had bitten off his head. Well, not literally or he would not be able to think, but she looked like she would be tempted to if he provoked her any further.

"Really Severus!" exclaimed Madame Pomfrey, "You should have known better! You did not know what was wrong with the child, yet you move her. You could have killed her for Merlin's sake!"

"Now really, Poppy, even I could tell that her back wasn't broken," Snape said with a hint of a snarl in his voice. He was not going to stand here and let that melodramatic witch make him feel like an ignorant teenager.

"Just because she doesn't have a broken spinal chord doesn't mean you couldn't have killed her," Madame Pomfrey snarled. "Look at her!" Snape glanced towards the isolation ward. The girl was being kept inside it, he could see her through the glass window. Her skin now had a faint pinkish tinge. Nothing like what it had looked like when he first had stumbled across her. Before it had been black and brown, with a lot of pus oozing out. She was leviating over the bed, her injuries had not been confined to one side of her body. While her most of the wounds had been healed, to lay her down would still have caused her considerable pain.

"She's covered with second and third degree burns!" Madame Pomfrey informed him of the obvious. "Just by touching her she could have contracted thousands of viruses that could have killed her. Do you even want me to tell you how many broken bones she had? You could have injured her severely by moving her. I thought you would have learned something after spending so much time with children." The witch who was much shorter than the younger wizard had a look in her eyes that was making him feel very intimidated. On the other hand, she was also making him extremely exasperated.

"If you are so worried about her, shouldn't you be keeping track of how she is doing?" asked Snape, desperately trying to get the mediwitch's attention on something else.

"Do you really think that I would make the same mistake as you?" the elder woman snapped. "I've been keeping track of her vitals ever since you came in here with her. I have treated her burns, have healed her broken bones, and have used a spell that sterilized the isolation ward that keeps out most of the harmful germs. Her vitals stabilized ten minutes ago. She was quite shaken from her trip that you gave her. I was terribly surprised that she wasn't dead by the time I got to her." Madam's voice had turned to a deadly whisper. Her eyes burned like black coals. Snape knew that he was not going to live this one down, not for a long time.

He gave her a stiff nod. Turned on his heel, fed up with hearing the witch's accusations, and swept out of the hospital wing. Stalking off towards his rooms.

He almost wished he had never tried to help that little brat.

* * *

He could hear the stairs moving outside of his office door. The sound of stone hitting stone reached his ears. Impatient foot steps echoed in the stone stairway.

He raised his head from his hands. These days everything seemed to get ever longer and ever harder to struggle through.

Boom. Boom. The knocking resonated throughout the all too silent study. Normally the Faux, the phoenix would have squawked at something so indecent. But the bird had been reduced to ash only yesterday.

He cleared his throat.

"Come in, Severus," his voice sounded tired and thin, even to his own ears.

The potions master flung the door open in his usual dramatic way. His oily hair shone in the light, creating a halo around his head.

"Dumbledore," Snape said. His voice would not betray any emotion unless you knew him well. Dumbledore knew him well.

"Have a seat, Severus." The Headmaster said. Snape gracefully dropped into an overstuffed armchair across from the elder man. Dumbledore held out a white paper bag. "Have a lemon drop," Snape shook his head, his brooding eyes bored holes into the desk, "You, sure? Well, alright then, but I always find that a sweet helps when thinking about matters that upset me." Dumbledore popped a sweet into his own mouth. A look of ecstasy flooded his features.

"You know very well what is troubling me." Snape muttered. "Its that bloody girl!" Dumbledore winced.

"Severus," he said in a patronizing tone, "please don't swear." His comment received a glare from the frustrated professor across from him.

"Where does she come from?" asked Snape, as he rested his forehead on one hand. Massaging his scalp. "Who is she? How old is she? Does she have any relatives? Is she a threat to us? Was she a warning?" He let out a low groan, as if in mortal agony because he did not know everything.

"I don't think that she poses a threat towards us," commented Dumbledore. "But, I'm sure that we will have all our answers very soon. Poppy says that the girl is healing quickly." Snape did not seem overly pleased to hear the news.

"Why don't you do something time consuming in the meantime," suggested Dumbledore after there had been a significant pause. "Oh, I don't know, maybe you could prepare some more Wolfsbane potion. Work on a paper or two. You could even do your own research, as it seems you might actually have time for it."

"No," Snape said in a tight voice, "I'll make some more Wolfsbane." A look of total disgust flashed in his eyes, before they went back to the same old brooding look.

"Excellent!" exclaimed Dumbledore, "One can never have too much of that." Snape sighed, as he lifted himself out of the chair.

"Severus," the Headmaster called, when the potions master reached the door, "the moment it is safe to question the girl, we will. I know you need to know the information before you make your next move at Voldemort's court." Snape acknowledged the Headmaster with a brief nod, before leaving the room with a swish of his robes. Dumbledore had seen the look of sheer agony that had flickered in Snape's eyes for a second. Someone else may have dismissed it for malice, but Dumbledore had known Snape for a long time.

The weary headmaster went back to putting his head in his hands, deep in thought. Snape was playing a difficult game. He was the sheep disguised as a wolf in the middle of the pack. It would be only a matter of time before the wolves caught his scent.

Dumbledore sighed. At times like these, the world seemed so grim.

A muffled thump could be heard as the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the headmaster's quarters jumped back to its station, shielding the old man in his office from the rest of the world.

* * *

A/N

so...

interesting... XD

I hope you like the beginning, I wrote it over a week ago (was just too lazy to fix it up)

Review if you want too...

Flattery is always accepted.

Constructive criticism is often ignored.

Flames are... well... they are used to bake my mushrooms!