The next morning the Daily Prophet screamed of the

night raid. Alexis looked up at the High Table where Snape sat, a

small cut over his left eye, and looking very worn out. As much as

Alexis hated to admit it, Snape had done her a favor...and she

couldn't ignore it. Last night she had acted quite rudely; she

should have thanked him instead of punching him, but the idea of

someone saving her, Alexis Zarinsky...it was too much to handle.

She had never needed help from anybody, and she certainly didn't

need any now; she had grown used to the idea of her death for months

now, and just when she thought it would be all over...he came into

it. 'Damn him,' she thought morosely, 'why can't he just stay out

of it? It's my own bloody business...'

She stabbed at her eggs and bacon idly, then began to

think about the situation from a new perspective; she looked up at

the High Table, observing Snape carefully. He hadn't looked at her

once since breakfast had started; had only wolfed down just about

half of the entire table, albeit with dignity. 'He couldn't be that

much older than me,' she thought silently, 'ten years at the most.

But he's already been around the block much more than I have. I

should probably listen to him, but I'm so stubborn I doubt I can.'

She almost laughed aloud thinking of it; the reason why Voldemort

liked her was because of her ability to follow orders, but here she

was, thinking about her stubbornness.

Then another thought came upon her; 'What if he can

help me? What if I can defeat Voldemort while he's still weak?' she

thought, eating her eggs slowly. Finally she stopped eating,

thinking out the plan fully, 'It'd be very dangerous, but my life is

in jeopardy as it is. If I can just take advantage of Voldemort

during one of the times when he's on an ego trip, if I can just get

better at spells, if I can learn the Killing Curse...' If, if,

if...if she could get Snape to help her. She looked back up at the

High Table; Snape noticed her and stared back menacingly, but she

refused to look away, as most students never did. After a minute he

finally scowled and looked away, irritated by her gaze; 'If I can

get Snape to help me...' she thought.

Yeah.

Sure.

And people in the desert want water.

That evening Alexis went down to the dungeons; Snape

was almost always down here grading papers, scowling at the work of

bad students. She opened the door to the Potions classroom to

discover it was empty, so she sat down at one of the student desks

and waited. Ten minutes passed before she heard his familiar stride

approaching from the direction of the stone staircase. He didn't

even bother looking at the student desks as he whisked past and went

directly to his own desk; she cleared her throat, and he looked up,

"Miss Zarinsky, what a...pleasant, surprise. Thanks to you I now

have one more bruise on my stomach." She felt a pang of guilt at

that jibe, "And I do apologize for that, sir. It was a moment of

anger, for which I have no excuse." Snape looked surprised at such

a well put together response, "Apology accepted." "I do, however,"

she said, standing up and looking at the Potions cabinets with

sudden interest, "have a favor to ask of you."

"And what favor can a Potions Master with a huge head

who only thinks about saving you possibly do?" he said vindictively.

She tensed slightly, "I deserved that." 'Damn right you did,'

thought Snape nastily, "What is it?" She turned to him, "I want you

to...I mean....I would like for you to help me." "Help you how?" he

said, standing up and shuffling his papers, putting them into his

desk drawers. "I'm well aware of my ill behavior, Professor," she

said tartly, "please don't rub it in." He looked up at her, slight

surprise just barely readable on his face, "I'm glad to see you

noticed." Alexis kept a smile to herself, "I pick up on behavioral

properties quite easily. Back to the subject at hand.

"I was thinking that perhaps you could assist me in

the...hastening of my learning process." "In what way?" he said

suspiciously. "Extra lessons," she replied, "to...protect me from

Voldemort." She almost said, 'Kill Voldemort' but held her tongue;

he would never help her if he knew of her rash idea. "You mean as

in spells, charms, potions, etcetera?" he said smoothly. "Indeed,"

she said, "and you're the only person who can really help me."

Snape almost blinked at that sentence; he had never been in an

obligatory position such as this; had never felt compelled to help

anyone...until now, for some strange reason. "And you want lessons

from me, do you?" said Snape quizzically, "And why me? Why not

someone else? Don't you dislike your greasy, nasty old Potions

Master?"

"No," she said, "I like you. You're my favorite

teacher, actually. I think it's the sarcasm mixed with the

brainpower; I always did get a kick out of smart guys," she replied,

catching him off-guard. "And besides," she added, "you don't look

that old. I doubt you're a decade older than me." 'Excuse me,' he

thought, 'less than a decade.' "I won't help you unless you're

serious," he said. "I am," she replied, "did I come across as

otherwise?"

* * *

It was the night of their last lesson; tomorrow, Alexis

would graduate and leave Hogwarts forever...and enter Voldemort's

full power. Snape was uncomfortably aware of this fact as the last

half of their lesson approached; he could only hope that she would

be fully able to defend herself when the time came.

As Alexis finished practicing her Furnunculus Charm,

Snape said, "Hurry it up! I still have to test you!" She sped

through her last set of spells quickly as Snape began to pace. He

had decided a few weeks ago that the best way to test her would be

via a one-on-one duel between them. She would have to go through

all the important charms and spells she had learned, particularly

some of the better hexes he knew of. Finally, she wrapped up her

charms, then turned to him, "Okay. I'm ready." "Good," he said,

"now stand at that end of the room."

They stood at the optimal twelve paces away, raised

their wands, and began to duel. Luckily they had locked up all the

tables and chairs so none of the furniture would be blown to bits as

spells flew across the room. At first Snape dominated the duel,

disarming Alexis until she managed to Summon her wand and get a grip

on the situation. For at least ten minutes they went through spell

after spell, until Alexis had completed the list of spells Snape had

assigned for her to use in the duel. Alexis leaned against the wall

with exhaustion, sweat trickling down her forehead, "How did I do?"

she asked, gasping for breath. 'Surprisingly well,' he thought, but

didn't say it. "You weren't horrible, but you weren't great

either," he said, "you certainly need a lot of work. I suggest you

find some way to practice during the evenings. Understood?"

She nodded heavily, "Understood." "Alright then," he

said, looking up at the clock, "lesson over." She almost did a

double take; she hadn't expected it to end so quickly. He began

gathering his things, opened the door to his office, almost shut it,

when, "Professor...can we...talk?" He looked up, "About what?" She

shrugged, "I don't know. About...things." "If you insist," he

said, leaving the door open. A minute later she was sitting down in

his office, observing the different jars of stuff on his shelves.

"You have an interesting office," she said, Conjuring a bottle of

water and sucking it down quickly. "Most people would disagree," he

said, sitting down at his desk and pulling out a stack of papers.

"How do you mean?" she asked. "Most people find it gross or

disgusting; they never bother looking at it for what it really is."

"That's kind of like how it is with people," she said quietly. The

full gist of that statement sank in for a minute or so until Alexis

said, "So...is it...interesting, being a teacher?"

He sat back, looking at his stack of papers waiting to

be graded with disdain, "Sometimes. At times like these, no." "If

you want me to leave, I can," she said. "That's not what I meant

and you know it," he said, "I just dislike grading papers."

"Probably because they're all wrong," she said, "the lot of them

being as stupid as they...I should keep quiet," she added hastily.

He smiled slightly, "Surprisingly, you shouldn't. You rarely have

errors on your papers, for which I am grateful. Saves me red ink."

"Did you just complement me, sir?" she asked. "Of course not," he

said, returning to his papers. "Too bad," she said, "a complement

from you would be worth its' weight in gold." "I didn't allow you

in here just so you could tell me what you think of me," he said

quickly. "I know," she said, "I'm sorry." "Fine," he said, pulling

Neville Longbottom's paper out of the stack and grading it with

gusto. "Sir," she said, after a moment, "may I tell you what I

think of you?" He hesitated, then, "Please do. You have me on a

knife's edge."

She ignored his sarcasm, taking a deep breath, "I just

wanted you to know that I...appreciate the help you've given me over

the past few years. I know you could have spent your time doing

something better, like giving Harry Potter a detention, but you

chose to help me instead. I can't ignore that...much less forget

it." Snape felt himself growing almost embarrassed; rarely did

anyone ever thank him for anything he did, much less complement him

so well. "I also wanted to tell you that...I've grown to like you

over the past few years." "Well thank you Miss Zarinsky..." "No,"

she said, "I like you very, very much." For once Snape didn't have

to be told exactly what type of 'like' she was referring to; in

about one second he went from pleased with himself to extreme

embarrassment, growing uncomfortably aware of what she had just

said. He was also aware of the fact that he had just written a 'T'

on Neville Longbottom's paper instead of an 'F.'

"Miss Zarinsky perhaps it's time for you to go. It's

getting late and I..." "Just one more thing," she said, standing up

to leave, bravely unembarrassed of her feelings. "If you had never

been my teacher, and I had never been your student, would you...?"

For a minute he was silent, then, "No." She stiffened, but enough

that only she noticed it, "Thank you for answering my question.

I'll see you tomorrow at graduation." He nodded, unable to look at

her as she left, although her eyes were boring into him; he thought

she had gone, but when he looked up she was standing just outside

the door. "Goodnight, Professor," she said. He straightened,

"Goodnight, Miss Zarinsky."

The door shut.

Snape put his head down on the desk, feeling the cold wood against

his head, wondering if he had just done the right thing.