A/N: It's been such long time since my last story but now the dormant Snape inside me has woken up and would not leave me in peace until I wrote what he told me to. So here it is. The story is complete now so I'll be updating every week in the hope of getting some reviews *hint hint* :)
When she first walked into his classroom, a year after Lily's boy, the wretched Harry Potter, she was nothing more than an anonymous face in a sea of other, similarly anonymous, faces. Dunderheads as usual, the lot of them, he thought as his well-trained gaze swept over the class. He was rarely wrong in his assumptions.
What was more, he soon arrived at the conclusion that this girl was even more dim-witted than the rest. Oh yes, she had moments of excellence when she easily outperformed the rest of the class, but then there were days when her mind seemed simply ... elsewhere. He tried shouting at her. He tried taking off points. He tried giving her detention. To no avail. It looked like when she was thus indisposed, for lack of a better word, reality mattered little to her. At such times she created her own reality, one that only she could see. Eventually he gave up on attempting to snap her out of her reverie when she happened to fall into it. He simply walked by her table, resignedly flicking his wand to put out the flame under her cauldron and thus preventing an imminent explosion, and then moved on to torment one of her no less incompetent classmates.
And so it went on until one night towards the end of her first year, the events of which suddenly made him see her in a whole new light. He was patrolling the corridors at night, checking for anything out of the ordinary to hopefully prevent another attack by Slytherin's monster, when he ran into her near Ravenclaw Tower as she was examining a suit of armour, obviously looking for something.
"Miss Lovegood!" he exclaimed, satisfied to see her jump backwards at the sound of his voice. "How can you be so foolish as to leave your tower at night at a time like this? Does your life mean nothing to you? Fifty points from Ravenclaw!" The last he added out of habit more than anything else; he had already come to understand that mundane things such as deducing house points had no effect on her.
Nor did his shouting, for that matter, as she recovered remarkably quickly. "You startled me, Professor," she said with a hint of reproach in her voice, fixing her protuberant blue eyes on him. "I was only looking for my pyjamas."
He was just opening his mouth to scold her for her cheek (how dare she take that tone with him?) but her second statement caused the words to die on his lips. "You were … I beg your pardon?" He was certain he must have misheard her.
"Looking for my pyjamas," she repeated matter-of-factly, as if she were talking about the weather. "Someone has hidden them, and I'd like to go to sleep. So I must find them."
Had it been Potter or one of his friends, he would not have hesitated to accuse them of lying; he knew they would say anything to get away with plotting mischief. This girl was not Potter, however, and what she claimed was simply too absurd to be a lie. Therefore, she had to be telling the truth. Slowly, he felt his anger dissipate as his curiosity got the better of him. "Why, may I ask, would anyone in their right mind want to take your pyjamas?" he demanded with sincere wonder.
She shrugged. "I don't know. They do it all the time though. Last time it was my boots. I had to skip breakfast to find them. Shame, I heard there was porridge. I love porridge."
Listening to her somewhat random babble, a half-buried memory suddenly came back to him, one where James bloody Potter had seized his books from his arms and thrown them down the toilet. He quickly pushed it out of his mind; even after all these years it still made his blood boil. However, it did give him a pretty good idea why someone would take pleasure in hiding Miss Lovegood's clothes. A bully very much like Potter. A bully who picked on those who somehow stood out, just like he had, just like Miss Lovegood did. A bully who revelled in humiliating his victims and then watching them suffer.
He would not have minded so much if said victims had the ability to fight back. He was well aware that his House produced more bullies than any other, Draco being a shining example, but as far as he knew they all had enough dignity to only go picking on those who did, to some degree at least, stand up to them. James Potter, however, was a coward who had always made sure he had at least Black at his side before daring to attack him. And, from what he had just heard, the same went for the effing low-life hiding Miss Lovegood's clothes. Why, they did not even need a sidekick to help them; Miss Lovegood was as defenceless as a new-born kitten. Even he had eventually given up trying to scare her into performing better in his Potions lessons, as the innocently puzzled look she gave him every time he started yelling at her always made him feel as though he had done something indecent. Clearly, however, the unknown entity did not share his inhibitions. They would never stop haunting the poor girl if someone did not step in. Well, he was ready to take on the task. He would not rest until he hunted them down, and when he did, he was going to redefine the meaning of the word detention in their honour. It would be his revenge on all the Potters of this world.
He was, however, careful not to show Miss Lovegood even a hint of where his musings had led him, so he merely asked, "And what gives you the idea your pyjamas will be here, of all places? Wouldn't it make more sense to start searching in Ravenclaw Tower?"
She fixed him with a gaze he normally reserved for Potter Jr. when he failed to grasp the blatantly obvious. "They are not very original," she said. "They always choose the same hiding places. This is one of them." And before he had a chance to even think about reacting to the sudden reversal of roles, she reached deep behind the suit of armour and pulled out a pair of bright yellow pyjamas. "There they are," she sighed contentedly.
"Then there is nothing to stop you from returning to your tower now," he retorted, somewhat too harshly perhaps, but, having felt his authority slipping, it was crucial to make it absolutely clear who was in charge. "I shall escort you."
She flashed him a smile as bright as her pyjamas. "That'll be nice of you, Professor."
He stared at her in disbelief, expecting to see her mocking him, but her smile did not falter. Eventually he remembered who he was dealing with; Miss Lovegood probably did not even know the meaning of the word 'mockery'. Therefore, for the second time in about thirty seconds, he once again found himself out of his depth. Students did not normally welcome his presence. Nor did most of his colleagues, come to think of it. What, then, was wrong with this girl? He could not help but feel that while in her company, all laws he took for granted ceased to apply. He could not rely on his infamous intimidation skills, perfected for years. He could not even rely on dictating the direction of their conversation. Damn it, he could not rely on pretty much anything. It made him feel horribly exposed and, as such, distinctly uncomfortable. Therefore, he only muttered "It is my duty," before leading the way down the corridor in the direction of Ravenclaw Tower. He did not trust himself to say more.
By the time they reached their destination, however, with Miss Lovegood being mercifully silent all the way, he had regained enough of his wits to remember the vow he had made to himself earlier. That is why he now fixed her with the sternest trademark glare he could muster and said, "Do not ever let me catch you wandering the corridors alone again. Slytherin's monster is on the loose; surely I do not need to stress how foolhardy it was to leave your tower unaccompanied. Next time it could very well cost you your life. No article of clothing is worth the risk, even if it means sleeping in your school robes." He could see her opening her mouth to argue but he held up his hand to silence her, then quickly added, "If, however, you do find one of your possessions missing again, write me a note and call the name Nilly. A house-elf will appear and deliver the note to me. I shall then seek you out and assist you."
Her eyes widened in surprise. "You will help me look?"
He allowed himself an inner smile; her directness was truly disarming. "I will," he confirmed. She did not need to know his real motivation was to find the bastard who was behind it all and punish them in the worst way imaginable. "Good night, Miss Lovegood."
And with that, he quickly turned away before she could blurt out another one of her unsettling remarks and thus throw him off balance again.
