Chapter 2: A Fine Balance
"I will struggle with fate; it shall never drag me down." ~ Beethoven
The next week went by quickly, and soon the students began to arrive for their next year of magical education. The first years were sorted into their houses, wide-eyed prefects were introduced eagerly to their new duties, and Snape had managed to avoid a serious conversation with Hogwarts newest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for the entire week. Snape couldn't help but notice the flurry of interest O'Malley created at the start-of-the-year feast, especially among the male students. He observed Harry Potter and Ron Weasely with looks of delight on their faces. Even Draco Malfoy seemed excited about the whole situation. "Professor Snape, sir, I know you didn't get the job again, but if I was Dumbledore I'd hire her in a second! I wouldn't mind getting an extra detention or two in her class," he snickered.
After Snape sneered and took away 10 pre-emptive points for Slytherin to the shock of Malfoy, he strode back to his office swiftly to review his preparations for the next day's classes.
Yet once he was in his drafty office, Snape's mind wandered back to the Great Hall where the feast was probably just drawing to a close. O'Malley had worn a long, black dress with her hair pulled back into a braid. Nothing extraordinary, but still striking. Perhaps he had been too quick to make assumptions about her; what could he expect from only talking to her once? She hasn't even said two words to him for the past week.
Then again, he hadn't spoken to her much either. Maybe he would ask her how her first lesson went tomorrow. Snape sighed, and put his notes away for the night. He retired after extinguishing the few candles on his desk, hoping the next day would go by quickly.
* * * * * * *
The next day the first Potions lesson Snape had was his class of sixth-year students. Even though Gryffindor was one of the houses schedule, along with Hufflepuff, Snape took some pleasure in knowing that he would no longer be teaching Harry Potter. The five years went by all too slowly. "Settle down, stop your fidgeting," he said coldly, as he entered the classroom. To his surprise, Potter was sitting in the back row next a few fellow Gryffindors, averting his gaze anywhere but the front of the room.
"Potter, this is an advanced Potions class. What do you think you are doing here?" he asked mocking tone. Several students laughed, pitying Potter's first-day bad luck. The day was certainly not starting off well.
"Professor Snape, sir," Harry began with caution, "I just received a change in schedule this morning-"
"I didn't receive a notice of any kind, Potter, that you were to be in this class," Snape snarled. "As I understand it your desired career does not require any further study under me to begin with, and I doubt any more lessons would improve your poor Potion-making skills."
"I completely agree, but Professor O'Malley said Potions was important to an Auror's education, so-"
"This is O'Malley's idea, is it? How interesting," Snape said, in a raspy voice.
Snape was more than disgruntled that he would most likely have to put up with Potter for another term. Just when he thought he couldn't be more annoyed, there was a knock at the door. Snape marched over to the door, angrily opening it to reveal O'Malley's smiling face. "Can I help you?" growled Snape.
"Yes, Professor Snape. I have come with a dual purpose on this lovely morning," she said, sweeping by him into the classroom. "First off, Professor McGonagall wishes me to give you this," she said, handing him an envelope. "It's a notice that Mr. Harry Potter shall be added to your class roster, despite his receiving less than an Outstanding on his O.W.L. examinations last spring," she explained. Snape was speechless, as he opened and read the letter from McGonagall.
"And my second order of business is to ask you a small favor," O'Malley continued.
"A favor? A FAVOR?" Snape stammered.
"Yes, a favor," O'Malley replied coolly. "I do already have my class structure prepared, but I would ideally like to observe a class taught by each teacher here, just to see how I might improve, what works best.you get the idea. I don't teach this hour, so would you mind if I watched your class presently?"
Everyone in the room could tell Snape was now furious.
"Professor O'Malley you have not only disrupted my class, but you are responsible for me having to teach Potter for another miserable term. I don't know what makes you think you can bend the rules to make other people's lives so difficult, but I have had about enough of you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," Snape said quietly.
Apparently not registering Snape's temper, O'Malley merely answered, "so does this mean I am allowed to stay, Professor?"
"Since you think you're so intelligent," snapped Snape, "why don't you read between the lines and guess what I'm thinking right now."
O'Malley suddenly gasped. "You naughty boy," she said with a smirk. "Oh come on, where's your sense of humor?"
"I lost a great deal of it the day I met you."
"Well if you're going to insult me, do it properly. I say, you'd win a tactless context before a beauty contest," O'Malley said calmly, flipping a lock of his black hair. "Sarcasm is just one more service that I offer. That's one thing we have in common," she winked.
Snape turned a deep shade of red. "And I'm sure you offer many services looking like that," he said hoarsely. "I'm also sure you're used to getting your way, but I certainly won't be fooled by you."
"For someone so confident in his own intellect, you know very little," she said softly.
"I know enough to see right through you. Now get out of my class," Snape sneered.
"Gladly," O'Malley said with the barest traces of a smile still on her face. The dungeon door closed behind her with a soft snap, rather than a slam.
Irritated beyond imagination Snape glanced first at the quivering student closest to him, and then back to Potter who was staring straight ahead as though he couldn't believe what had just happened. "Well," said Snape, glaring at them all, "now that all distractions are taken care of, class can finally begin. Instructions are on the board, you unfortunately now have only one hour. Start." Snape flicked his wand, and the cupboard with the needed ingredients swung open violently. Several jars broke, and Snape muttered a repairing spell under his breath.
As the students fumbled to gather their Potions ingredients, Snape sat at his desk and stared out at the room. True, he felt great bitterness at her audacity, but he was surprised to find himself feeling a hint of regret as well. Remorse left a sour taste in his mouth. It was only her first day, he didn't have to be so harsh.
Snape usually didn't care who he snapped at, but with O'Malley his reactions seemed somehow amiss. Like Dumbledore, she responded to his sarcasm calmly. Snape found it much more difficult to snap at someone when he or she was not surveying him with mutual dislike. Snape decided the best thing to do was to discuss the matter with Dumbledore, and resolved to visit him as soon as he had a free moment.
Before long the hour was gone, and the students lined up to hand in their work for testing. When it was Harry's turn, Snape pulled him aside. "Do you have a moment, Potter? I'd like a word with you after class."
Harry looked pale, but only said, "yes, Professor."
When everyone was gone, Snape turned his attention to Harry. "Sit down, Potter," said Snape quietly. Harry fell into the closest seat. "I'd like to ask you how it is that you are still in my class when you received less than an Acceptable on your O.W.L.'s in Potions?"
Snape looked at Harry with piercing, black eyes. Harry met his gaze, and started to explain. "I didn't think I'd be taking Potions again either, sir, even though I'm supposed to if I want to be an Auror someday. But yesterday Professor McGonagall called me to her office to discuss the classes I should take if I still wanted to pursue being an Auror. I guess she helps all sixth and seventh years with their schedules." Snape glared hesitantly at Harry.
"Anyway," Harry continued carefully, "when I got there Professor O'Malley was there too. I didn't expect to see her, really. I guess Professor McGonagall asked her there to tell me a bit about the career. Professor O'Malley said that her study of Potions was useful, but not essential to her career. She didn't think I should continue studying it because of my exam grade, and also because she said I showed "no real aptitude" at it. She seemed to think that was all right, but didn't see a point in my taking it again." Snape pulse skipped a half beat as he stared at Harry.
"Professor McGonagall seemed to still think I should take Potions, despite Professor O'Malley's hesitation to make an exception. Dumbledore must have approved things this morning. My schedule was changed just a few hours ago."
Harry stared at Snape, waiting for his reaction.
"Thank you Potter, you may go," said Snape softly. "And shut the door behind you." Harry eagerly gathered his things and left the room, leaving Snape to think about what to do next.
* * * * * * *
A few hours later, Snape was walking through a corridor towards a large stone statue of a phoenix. He whispered the password (strawberry milkshake) and waited while the moving staircase began its ascent to Dumbledore's office. Once there Snape sighed, and knocked gently on the door.
"Come in, Severus," came the response from inside the room. Snape walked in, closing the door behind him with a soft click. "Please, sit down,"
Dumbledore said, gesturing the chair in front of his desk. After Snape had taken his seat Dumbledore folded his hands, ready to listen attentively.
"Now," he said, smiling over his half-moon spectacles, "is there something you wish to speak to me about?"
"Yes there is, headmaster," Snape began tentatively, "I need to speak with you about Professor O'Malley. There may be mistake."
"What sort of mistake, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.
"It seems that ever since Professor O'Malley started here I have harbored some distrust for her." Dumbledore smiled. "You've already made that clear. Really, Severus, it has only been a week."
"I realize that." Snape paused, looking at Dumbledore's kind, old eyes.
"Please, continue. Whatever you say will, of course, stay in this room."
Snape relayed the details of his first lesson that day, leaving nothing out. When he was finished, Dumbledore made no motion to judge the behavior.
"And why do you think you acted the way you did, Severus?" Dumbledore merely inquired.
The very question Snape had in the back of his mind all day. "I thought Professor O'Malley was overstepping her bounds. When I told her so, she insulted me. Things escalated and, regretfully, spun out of control."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "You didn't wait, though, to find out if Sam was indeed responsible for Harry taking your class under special circumstances. I know your dislike for Harry runs deeply, but projecting that resentment onto someone else isn't a just thing to do."
Snape was looking anywhere but at Dumbledore's eyes. He knew what the headmaster said was true.
"Besides," said Dumbledore, "Sam's insults may not have been appropriate to make, but they weren't as scathing as they could have been. The were only meant to get a rise out of you, which they obviously did. Try not to be so serious, Severus. Maybe that's a lesson you can learn from her."
Snape's sallow face turned downward. "I suppose I also responded the way I did because she doesn't react to me the way people usually do."
"Is that necessarily a bad thing?"
"Not necessarily, no. I just don't expect her to so boldly say some of the things she does." Silence covered Dumbledore's office for the next few minutes. Snape hesitated for another moment or two, then said, "I assume I'll have to make amends?"
* * * * * * *
Snape arrived early at dinner, trying to prepare for what he was about to do. Students started to file in the Great Hall, talking animatedly with one another as they sat at the appropriate house tables. Snape glanced around at the Gryffindor table, and quickly found Harry, Ron and Hermione talking happily together. Though the year may have changed, some things always remained the same.
Dinner was served, and there was still no sign of O'Malley. Snape was just starting to think that she wouldn't be coming, when the side door where the teachers entered the Hall opened. O'Malley swept to her seat like a shadow, her plain black work robes trailing gracefully behind her.
She looked out at the students as she began to eat, neither avoiding nor seeking out a conversation. Uncomfortable as it was, Snape knew he had to say something. "Professor O'Malley, I'd like to talk to you about what happened earlier."
O'Malley swiftly turned to look at him. "To which of my daily events are you referring, exactly?" she said without emotion.
Snape paused for an instant, then gazed resolvedly into her deep blue eyes. "I'm referring to when you were in my classroom this morning, Professor. I can't make it any more clear than that."
"Ah, yes. Quite the enlightening event, that," said O'Malley easily. "Who was it that filled you in?"
"Look, I'm trying to." Snape lowered his voice. "I'm trying to say I regret that I jumped to the wrong conclusions. I didn't intend be so quick to make judgments against you, Professor O'Malley, but I don't think it was your place to make such comments either," he said hurriedly.
O'Malley smiled faintly, and Snape was aware again of the way her eyes analyzed and weighed his explanation. "My remarks," she said, "were made hastily as well. If I offended you, and I assure that I only had the innocent objective of making you slightly uncomfortable, I must ask for your pardon."
Snape stared at her, taken aback. O'Malley struggled to contain a laugh, saying, "I'm only kidding. Don't you worry now. Really, you shouldn't be so serious all the time."
Snape laughed nervously. "Dumbledore said the very same thing, earlier. It makes me wonder if there's any truth to it."
O'Malley grinned. "Do you really want me to answer that?"
"Preferably, no," said Snape, feeling much more relaxed than before. "You're not going to publicize this are you?"
"Your shameless lapse of judgment? The great Greek tragedy that took place in your dungeon?" she gasped. "Never. Seriously though, you don't have to worry. I'm not going to speak of it again." When O'Malley felt more comfortable, Snape noticed, her voice had a faint lilting sound; it became more melodious, like an accent he couldn't quite place.
"Besides, who doesn't make a mistake here and there," she said.
"Very true," replied Snape.
"So, everything's alright," she said, as she slipped her hand over his, taking him by surprise. Snape felt like a bolt of electricity coursed through his body. Her hand was warm, soft and smooth. With long fingers like that of a piano players, he couldn't imagine ever seeing such perfect hands.
"Apparently, Professor O'Malley," said Snape as coolly as he could.
"Ah, that's another thing," O'Malley said as she released her hand. "Please, call me Sam. It's a long year, why not save on syllables?"
"Fair enough." Snape had the barest traces of a smile on his face. "You may call me Severus, if you wish," he added quickly.
"Why thank you," O'Malley replied, taking a sip out of her goblet and smiling to herself.
Hearing the small lull in their conversation, Flitwick jumped in to ask O'Malley how her first day of class transpired. As she smiled indulgently and turned to talk to him, Snape felt more than relieved that he had made amends, he couldn't have planned better results to the conversation. All Snape wanted to do now was return to his room, now that he felt he was ahead.
The Great Hall was emptying out by this time. Snape awkwardly turned to his left, saying, "Goodnight, Sam."
O'Malley turned around, with eyes sparkling. "Goodnight, Severus," she said, returning to her conversation with Flitwick.
Snape walked back to his office quickly; when he arrived there, he lit the fire and sat down to think. Snape felt better that he had made amends with O'Malley; she was just trying to be pleasant after all, which is more than most were to him. Nothing really in the category of flirtatious.
Then Snape opened the lowest drawer on his desk, and pulled out a tattered old book. He traced the cover, pondering whether or not to open it.
After a minute or two Snape flipped the book open to its familiar place, and picked up an old, worn photograph of Lily Evans. It was torn on one side, the other half missing. Looking at Lily's smiling face, Snape remembered what happened the last time a girl showed him a flicker of kindness or interest, whatever it was. He put the picture in it's place, and with the book hidden away slammed the drawer shut.
"I will struggle with fate; it shall never drag me down." ~ Beethoven
The next week went by quickly, and soon the students began to arrive for their next year of magical education. The first years were sorted into their houses, wide-eyed prefects were introduced eagerly to their new duties, and Snape had managed to avoid a serious conversation with Hogwarts newest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for the entire week. Snape couldn't help but notice the flurry of interest O'Malley created at the start-of-the-year feast, especially among the male students. He observed Harry Potter and Ron Weasely with looks of delight on their faces. Even Draco Malfoy seemed excited about the whole situation. "Professor Snape, sir, I know you didn't get the job again, but if I was Dumbledore I'd hire her in a second! I wouldn't mind getting an extra detention or two in her class," he snickered.
After Snape sneered and took away 10 pre-emptive points for Slytherin to the shock of Malfoy, he strode back to his office swiftly to review his preparations for the next day's classes.
Yet once he was in his drafty office, Snape's mind wandered back to the Great Hall where the feast was probably just drawing to a close. O'Malley had worn a long, black dress with her hair pulled back into a braid. Nothing extraordinary, but still striking. Perhaps he had been too quick to make assumptions about her; what could he expect from only talking to her once? She hasn't even said two words to him for the past week.
Then again, he hadn't spoken to her much either. Maybe he would ask her how her first lesson went tomorrow. Snape sighed, and put his notes away for the night. He retired after extinguishing the few candles on his desk, hoping the next day would go by quickly.
* * * * * * *
The next day the first Potions lesson Snape had was his class of sixth-year students. Even though Gryffindor was one of the houses schedule, along with Hufflepuff, Snape took some pleasure in knowing that he would no longer be teaching Harry Potter. The five years went by all too slowly. "Settle down, stop your fidgeting," he said coldly, as he entered the classroom. To his surprise, Potter was sitting in the back row next a few fellow Gryffindors, averting his gaze anywhere but the front of the room.
"Potter, this is an advanced Potions class. What do you think you are doing here?" he asked mocking tone. Several students laughed, pitying Potter's first-day bad luck. The day was certainly not starting off well.
"Professor Snape, sir," Harry began with caution, "I just received a change in schedule this morning-"
"I didn't receive a notice of any kind, Potter, that you were to be in this class," Snape snarled. "As I understand it your desired career does not require any further study under me to begin with, and I doubt any more lessons would improve your poor Potion-making skills."
"I completely agree, but Professor O'Malley said Potions was important to an Auror's education, so-"
"This is O'Malley's idea, is it? How interesting," Snape said, in a raspy voice.
Snape was more than disgruntled that he would most likely have to put up with Potter for another term. Just when he thought he couldn't be more annoyed, there was a knock at the door. Snape marched over to the door, angrily opening it to reveal O'Malley's smiling face. "Can I help you?" growled Snape.
"Yes, Professor Snape. I have come with a dual purpose on this lovely morning," she said, sweeping by him into the classroom. "First off, Professor McGonagall wishes me to give you this," she said, handing him an envelope. "It's a notice that Mr. Harry Potter shall be added to your class roster, despite his receiving less than an Outstanding on his O.W.L. examinations last spring," she explained. Snape was speechless, as he opened and read the letter from McGonagall.
"And my second order of business is to ask you a small favor," O'Malley continued.
"A favor? A FAVOR?" Snape stammered.
"Yes, a favor," O'Malley replied coolly. "I do already have my class structure prepared, but I would ideally like to observe a class taught by each teacher here, just to see how I might improve, what works best.you get the idea. I don't teach this hour, so would you mind if I watched your class presently?"
Everyone in the room could tell Snape was now furious.
"Professor O'Malley you have not only disrupted my class, but you are responsible for me having to teach Potter for another miserable term. I don't know what makes you think you can bend the rules to make other people's lives so difficult, but I have had about enough of you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," Snape said quietly.
Apparently not registering Snape's temper, O'Malley merely answered, "so does this mean I am allowed to stay, Professor?"
"Since you think you're so intelligent," snapped Snape, "why don't you read between the lines and guess what I'm thinking right now."
O'Malley suddenly gasped. "You naughty boy," she said with a smirk. "Oh come on, where's your sense of humor?"
"I lost a great deal of it the day I met you."
"Well if you're going to insult me, do it properly. I say, you'd win a tactless context before a beauty contest," O'Malley said calmly, flipping a lock of his black hair. "Sarcasm is just one more service that I offer. That's one thing we have in common," she winked.
Snape turned a deep shade of red. "And I'm sure you offer many services looking like that," he said hoarsely. "I'm also sure you're used to getting your way, but I certainly won't be fooled by you."
"For someone so confident in his own intellect, you know very little," she said softly.
"I know enough to see right through you. Now get out of my class," Snape sneered.
"Gladly," O'Malley said with the barest traces of a smile still on her face. The dungeon door closed behind her with a soft snap, rather than a slam.
Irritated beyond imagination Snape glanced first at the quivering student closest to him, and then back to Potter who was staring straight ahead as though he couldn't believe what had just happened. "Well," said Snape, glaring at them all, "now that all distractions are taken care of, class can finally begin. Instructions are on the board, you unfortunately now have only one hour. Start." Snape flicked his wand, and the cupboard with the needed ingredients swung open violently. Several jars broke, and Snape muttered a repairing spell under his breath.
As the students fumbled to gather their Potions ingredients, Snape sat at his desk and stared out at the room. True, he felt great bitterness at her audacity, but he was surprised to find himself feeling a hint of regret as well. Remorse left a sour taste in his mouth. It was only her first day, he didn't have to be so harsh.
Snape usually didn't care who he snapped at, but with O'Malley his reactions seemed somehow amiss. Like Dumbledore, she responded to his sarcasm calmly. Snape found it much more difficult to snap at someone when he or she was not surveying him with mutual dislike. Snape decided the best thing to do was to discuss the matter with Dumbledore, and resolved to visit him as soon as he had a free moment.
Before long the hour was gone, and the students lined up to hand in their work for testing. When it was Harry's turn, Snape pulled him aside. "Do you have a moment, Potter? I'd like a word with you after class."
Harry looked pale, but only said, "yes, Professor."
When everyone was gone, Snape turned his attention to Harry. "Sit down, Potter," said Snape quietly. Harry fell into the closest seat. "I'd like to ask you how it is that you are still in my class when you received less than an Acceptable on your O.W.L.'s in Potions?"
Snape looked at Harry with piercing, black eyes. Harry met his gaze, and started to explain. "I didn't think I'd be taking Potions again either, sir, even though I'm supposed to if I want to be an Auror someday. But yesterday Professor McGonagall called me to her office to discuss the classes I should take if I still wanted to pursue being an Auror. I guess she helps all sixth and seventh years with their schedules." Snape glared hesitantly at Harry.
"Anyway," Harry continued carefully, "when I got there Professor O'Malley was there too. I didn't expect to see her, really. I guess Professor McGonagall asked her there to tell me a bit about the career. Professor O'Malley said that her study of Potions was useful, but not essential to her career. She didn't think I should continue studying it because of my exam grade, and also because she said I showed "no real aptitude" at it. She seemed to think that was all right, but didn't see a point in my taking it again." Snape pulse skipped a half beat as he stared at Harry.
"Professor McGonagall seemed to still think I should take Potions, despite Professor O'Malley's hesitation to make an exception. Dumbledore must have approved things this morning. My schedule was changed just a few hours ago."
Harry stared at Snape, waiting for his reaction.
"Thank you Potter, you may go," said Snape softly. "And shut the door behind you." Harry eagerly gathered his things and left the room, leaving Snape to think about what to do next.
* * * * * * *
A few hours later, Snape was walking through a corridor towards a large stone statue of a phoenix. He whispered the password (strawberry milkshake) and waited while the moving staircase began its ascent to Dumbledore's office. Once there Snape sighed, and knocked gently on the door.
"Come in, Severus," came the response from inside the room. Snape walked in, closing the door behind him with a soft click. "Please, sit down,"
Dumbledore said, gesturing the chair in front of his desk. After Snape had taken his seat Dumbledore folded his hands, ready to listen attentively.
"Now," he said, smiling over his half-moon spectacles, "is there something you wish to speak to me about?"
"Yes there is, headmaster," Snape began tentatively, "I need to speak with you about Professor O'Malley. There may be mistake."
"What sort of mistake, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.
"It seems that ever since Professor O'Malley started here I have harbored some distrust for her." Dumbledore smiled. "You've already made that clear. Really, Severus, it has only been a week."
"I realize that." Snape paused, looking at Dumbledore's kind, old eyes.
"Please, continue. Whatever you say will, of course, stay in this room."
Snape relayed the details of his first lesson that day, leaving nothing out. When he was finished, Dumbledore made no motion to judge the behavior.
"And why do you think you acted the way you did, Severus?" Dumbledore merely inquired.
The very question Snape had in the back of his mind all day. "I thought Professor O'Malley was overstepping her bounds. When I told her so, she insulted me. Things escalated and, regretfully, spun out of control."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "You didn't wait, though, to find out if Sam was indeed responsible for Harry taking your class under special circumstances. I know your dislike for Harry runs deeply, but projecting that resentment onto someone else isn't a just thing to do."
Snape was looking anywhere but at Dumbledore's eyes. He knew what the headmaster said was true.
"Besides," said Dumbledore, "Sam's insults may not have been appropriate to make, but they weren't as scathing as they could have been. The were only meant to get a rise out of you, which they obviously did. Try not to be so serious, Severus. Maybe that's a lesson you can learn from her."
Snape's sallow face turned downward. "I suppose I also responded the way I did because she doesn't react to me the way people usually do."
"Is that necessarily a bad thing?"
"Not necessarily, no. I just don't expect her to so boldly say some of the things she does." Silence covered Dumbledore's office for the next few minutes. Snape hesitated for another moment or two, then said, "I assume I'll have to make amends?"
* * * * * * *
Snape arrived early at dinner, trying to prepare for what he was about to do. Students started to file in the Great Hall, talking animatedly with one another as they sat at the appropriate house tables. Snape glanced around at the Gryffindor table, and quickly found Harry, Ron and Hermione talking happily together. Though the year may have changed, some things always remained the same.
Dinner was served, and there was still no sign of O'Malley. Snape was just starting to think that she wouldn't be coming, when the side door where the teachers entered the Hall opened. O'Malley swept to her seat like a shadow, her plain black work robes trailing gracefully behind her.
She looked out at the students as she began to eat, neither avoiding nor seeking out a conversation. Uncomfortable as it was, Snape knew he had to say something. "Professor O'Malley, I'd like to talk to you about what happened earlier."
O'Malley swiftly turned to look at him. "To which of my daily events are you referring, exactly?" she said without emotion.
Snape paused for an instant, then gazed resolvedly into her deep blue eyes. "I'm referring to when you were in my classroom this morning, Professor. I can't make it any more clear than that."
"Ah, yes. Quite the enlightening event, that," said O'Malley easily. "Who was it that filled you in?"
"Look, I'm trying to." Snape lowered his voice. "I'm trying to say I regret that I jumped to the wrong conclusions. I didn't intend be so quick to make judgments against you, Professor O'Malley, but I don't think it was your place to make such comments either," he said hurriedly.
O'Malley smiled faintly, and Snape was aware again of the way her eyes analyzed and weighed his explanation. "My remarks," she said, "were made hastily as well. If I offended you, and I assure that I only had the innocent objective of making you slightly uncomfortable, I must ask for your pardon."
Snape stared at her, taken aback. O'Malley struggled to contain a laugh, saying, "I'm only kidding. Don't you worry now. Really, you shouldn't be so serious all the time."
Snape laughed nervously. "Dumbledore said the very same thing, earlier. It makes me wonder if there's any truth to it."
O'Malley grinned. "Do you really want me to answer that?"
"Preferably, no," said Snape, feeling much more relaxed than before. "You're not going to publicize this are you?"
"Your shameless lapse of judgment? The great Greek tragedy that took place in your dungeon?" she gasped. "Never. Seriously though, you don't have to worry. I'm not going to speak of it again." When O'Malley felt more comfortable, Snape noticed, her voice had a faint lilting sound; it became more melodious, like an accent he couldn't quite place.
"Besides, who doesn't make a mistake here and there," she said.
"Very true," replied Snape.
"So, everything's alright," she said, as she slipped her hand over his, taking him by surprise. Snape felt like a bolt of electricity coursed through his body. Her hand was warm, soft and smooth. With long fingers like that of a piano players, he couldn't imagine ever seeing such perfect hands.
"Apparently, Professor O'Malley," said Snape as coolly as he could.
"Ah, that's another thing," O'Malley said as she released her hand. "Please, call me Sam. It's a long year, why not save on syllables?"
"Fair enough." Snape had the barest traces of a smile on his face. "You may call me Severus, if you wish," he added quickly.
"Why thank you," O'Malley replied, taking a sip out of her goblet and smiling to herself.
Hearing the small lull in their conversation, Flitwick jumped in to ask O'Malley how her first day of class transpired. As she smiled indulgently and turned to talk to him, Snape felt more than relieved that he had made amends, he couldn't have planned better results to the conversation. All Snape wanted to do now was return to his room, now that he felt he was ahead.
The Great Hall was emptying out by this time. Snape awkwardly turned to his left, saying, "Goodnight, Sam."
O'Malley turned around, with eyes sparkling. "Goodnight, Severus," she said, returning to her conversation with Flitwick.
Snape walked back to his office quickly; when he arrived there, he lit the fire and sat down to think. Snape felt better that he had made amends with O'Malley; she was just trying to be pleasant after all, which is more than most were to him. Nothing really in the category of flirtatious.
Then Snape opened the lowest drawer on his desk, and pulled out a tattered old book. He traced the cover, pondering whether or not to open it.
After a minute or two Snape flipped the book open to its familiar place, and picked up an old, worn photograph of Lily Evans. It was torn on one side, the other half missing. Looking at Lily's smiling face, Snape remembered what happened the last time a girl showed him a flicker of kindness or interest, whatever it was. He put the picture in it's place, and with the book hidden away slammed the drawer shut.