Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 3: The Library in Spring

The castle was uncommonly quiet on Good Friday. Almost every student in third year and above was in Hogsmede, wandering the narrow cobble stone lanes, shopping in the assortment of little stores scattered haphazardly along the main street of town, or enjoying a foaming butter beer and chilled bowl of gooseberry pudding at the Three Broomsticks. The younger children and those unfortunate enough to be without leave, took advantage of the long weekend, abandoned homework for the day, and spent the sunny afternoon pursuing leisure. Some opted to explore the many changing hallways and galleries of the immense castle; others played outside, meandering, running, or flying over the vast green lawns in the April breeze.

The library was totally deserted. Even the librarian Madam Liveris had retreated from her usual perch behind the reference desk to the back room where she could be seen, through the partially open door, to be napping on a Chintz Sofa. At five to two in the afternoon, Fanny, the first patron of the day, fumbled in with a pile of books in her arms, and situated herself at one of the larger tables in the potions sections. After quickly walking through the stacks to make sure she was alone, she sat at her table, pulled quill, ink and parchment from her bag, and waited.

A small patch of blue sky shone through a window twenty feet away, and Fanny stared at it longingly. It was the only natural light that could be seen in her little clearing. The other windows were blocked by the dense rows of dark shelves spanning from floor to ceiling. Every available surface was stacked with books, sometimes two or three deep. It was dark and dusty in the stacks, and although Fanny was usually comfortable here, today it felt claustrophobic. She wondered why she was in the library on such a nice day when she should be in Hogsmede enjoying the bit of freedom with her friends? She looked at her watch. Seven past two. Snape was late. A frown passed over Fanny's face. He had specifically ordered her not to be even a minute late, and now he kept her waiting. Why was she here, why had she cancelled her plans with Lily to meet a Slytherin? Was it only because of the potions assignment he had offered to help her with? She might have thought so had it not been for the dream she had two nights ago.

The last potions class before Easter holidays had ended rather abruptly. Moments after she and Snape shook hands, and before they could say anything else, the class was dismissed. Snape excused himself immediately, collected his things, and walked away leaving her standing alone by his table. He hadn't offered to help her with the notorious potions problem, or even told her if he had solved it. It was a bit rude, she thought, but she was quite used to rudeness, and quickly put it from her mind. Busy with classes and homework, she didn't think about Snape for the rest of the day, not even as she lay in bed later that night, wide awake with insomnia.

Fanny must have fallen asleep at some point, because she was awoken suddenly in the early hours of Thursday morning by a cat that attacked her exposed hand. Drowsily, she cursed the tabby menace, Baron von Jellypaws. He belonged to Linda, the girl two beds over who, despite Fanny's complaints, frequently left him free to roam the dormitories at night. Jellypaws used his liberty to wake Fanny with an unmerited attack at least three times a week. Baron von Cruelly-Claws more like, Fanny thought, as she extricated her hand from the painful grasp of the cat and shoved him out of her bed. Relaxing back into the voluminous pillows, Fanny remembered the dream she was woken from. The quickly fading images reassembled in her head.

She stood on the banks of the lake, watching the ripples of moonlight play on the surface of the waters. An owl flew low overhead, its wake stirring her hair and cutting a line across the lake behind it. The waves spread out, reaching for the shore, growing, growing. Soon they would reach her, she realized with panic; they would surely wash her away, but she couldn't run-her feet were like lead. The wall of black rippling water rushed closer: thirty feet, twenty feet, it was almost upon her. She held out her hands to stop it; did it work? Ten feet from shore it slowed, eight, six, five feet away it froze, hung in the air for a moment, and parted. A void that stood out black against the dark wave, grew in the separation, and from out of the darkness stepped a young man. His eyes were swirling and black like the waters he came from, and his face shone white and blank like the moon overhead. The wind picked up and his low voice mingled with the rustling of the trees. "You," he whispered. Then he was approaching, stepping across the water, reaching for her, and the anticipation was unbearable; his hands were closing about her arms, closing her in his grasp, ice cold hands gripping, pulling her in. Then the cat jumped on her and she awoke.

It had felt so real, and if the circumstances weren't impossible, Fanny might almost have thought it actually happened. She frowned and put a hand on her forehead. It was that boy Snape. Why was she dreaming about him? Had it been a good dream, or bad? Bad, she thought, definitely bad. But then why was she so irritated at being woken. Her head felt hot, and flushed. It had been strangely erotic. An image of the normal classroom Snape arose in her mind. He was not attractive, not charming, not friendly, and not even particularly hygienic. And on top of everything, he was a Slytherin, kept terrible company, and was disliked or downright despised by Lily and her friends. Not once had she considered him in a romantic light. Why did she dream about him now?

Too confused to fall back asleep, Fanny decided to wash up, and go down to breakfast early. Planning to study a bit while she waited for things to pick up and breakfast to begin, she grabbed her runes book and made her way to the great hall. The tables were almost completely deserted, and her usual seat, in the middle of the table facing east towards the Gryffindors, was unoccupied. But a strange mood was upon her today, and she sat nearest the door facing west instead. Coffee after coffee, page after page, she waited, and watched as the students slowly trickled in. Violet, the nasty girl from potions, entered with a few girls, sat down, and began gossiping in loud condescending drawls. Watching them, Fanny suddenly realized that, quite against habit, she was facing the Slytherin table. A vague sense of embarrassment overcame her, and she was about to switch sides when Lily arrived.

"You're up early," she said, sitting by Fanny. "Having trouble sleeping?" she added in a concerned voice.

"No, it was Linda's cat again," she said, displaying her scratched hand. "Thought I'd take advantage, and finish up my work so I can forget about it and relax in Hogsmede."

Lily's freckled nose crinkled in a smile. "Hogsmede's going to be such fun!" she said. "The boys keep saying they've found some hidden caves on the outskirts of town. They're dying to show us; you know them, love to show off, just like prize poodles."

"Yeah.sure." Fanny said, suddenly distracted by the figure that just arrived. Lily followed her friend's staring gaze, and a dark expression crossed her face.

"I heard you spoke to Snape yesterday," she said.

"Just to ask about a problem," said Fanny.

"He spoke about your mother, didn't he? That horrible little rat!" Her voice rose steadily as she spoke. "How dare he bring her up like that, and in front of the whole class too. I should give him a piece of my mind." Lily made to rise, but Fanny stopped her, placing a hand on her arm.

"It's alright, honestly," she said. "He was perfectly respectful."

"Come on, Fanny, you don't need to be nice about it, we all know what a snake he is!"

"No, honestly, Lily, calm down. Actually, it was kind of good to hear someone talk about her. He said only good things. She deserves to be remembered like that."

Lily frowned doubtfully. "Well, if you say so. I still think you're being a bit forgiving. That boy is no good and I don't trust him. If you take my advice, I say avoid him altogether. Oh look, James is here, I'd better be off. I'll see you in charms." She hugged her friend, and made her way to the Gryffindor table.

The morning classes were difficult for Fanny. Preoccupied by Lily's warning and the strange, unexpected dream, she couldn't follow her first two lectures, and lost five points for Ravenclaw when she answered, in response to a teachers question, that 'hiding behind a brick wall' was an effective defense against hostile hexes. Things became worse after lunch. In transfiguration, she mispronounced a spell and turned a prune into an angry hippopotamus. The teacher, Professor Dumbledore, quickly put things right and passed it off with a smile saying "mistakes happen." But in the brief chaos Jimmy Jones, who sat next to Fanny, almost had his arm ripped off and refused to speak to her for the rest of the day. It was very stressful, despite Dumbledore's calmness, and she decided that, in order to prevent further incidents, she must get over her sudden preoccupation. It occurred to her that spending a little time with Snape might help her figure out what she thought of him, and if Lily was right. She already had the perfect excuse to approach him: she would ask for help on the potions problem. But on her way to charms that afternoon, the effort was made for her.

"Miss Bowley, may I have a word please," said Snape, whose head was sticking out of a doorway.

A little embarrassed to be actually talking with him after thinking about him all day, Fanny felt herself flush as she answered, "all right." He held the door for her, peeked down the hallway, and closed it behind them. Crossing the room, which appeared to be an old dusty lecture hall, he leaned against a broken desk and folded his arms across his chest.

"I'll help you with the potions assignment," he said bluntly. "Meet me in the library tomorrow at two o'clock sharp. But I'm warning you, I shall leave if you're late." He walked quickly across the room, opened the door with a bang, and left without waiting for a response. Fanny shook her head and laughed a little. Discourteous though his behavior was, it was also enigmatic and intriguing. There was no question: she would meet him in the library although it meant canceling her trip to Hogsmede with Lily and the gang.

The five Gryffindors complained bitterly when she told them she had to stay to catch up on homework. In the end, though, there was nothing they could do and on the morning of Good Friday, they walked to the little town without Fanny. Now she waited in the dark library for a Slytherin who was late, torn between feelings of anticipation and regret for staying behind. After twenty five minutes, just as Fanny was considering leaving, he arrived.

"You're late," she said. Irritation made her forget the mild embarrassment she now felt around him.

"I am a busy person. I can't waste all of my time helping silly Ravenclaws. Be grateful that I showed up at all." He sat down hurriedly and pulled out a stack of notes from his bag. It seemed that he was trying to humble her into a submissive role, and establish rigid boundaries right away. It didn't upset or offend Fanny, though, and she found, to her surprise, that she was delighted by the challenge he presented. 'Here's a man with some bravado', she thought, 'let's see if I can give him a run for his money'.

"Am I such a burden?" she said, playfully. He stared haughtily at her down his long nose, and she changed tactics. Maybe politeness could break through his defenses. "Thanks for your time, though," she added. "I really appreciate it. I need the help desperately."

"Yes, well, that's quite obvious.shall we get started?" Fanny nodded, and he continued, "Since we are interested a potion that can both render a person color blind, and cure ulcers, one would think combining ground costmary and liver of hydra sufficient. But as I'm sure you know," he said smugly, as if he really thought Fanny didn't know at all, "combining these ingredients neutralizes the magical properties of both. The key, of course, is to add an inhibitor to prevent neutralization. I've found that a sprinkle of yellow hawthorn works well." He flipped through the notes, explaining how he arrived at his hypothesis with the various figures, equations, and charts. "So the undesirable neutralization lies in the combination of these elements of the ingredients." He pointed to a chart listing the substance breakdown of costmary and hydra liver.

"Why didn't you go to Hogsmede today?" Fanny asked suddenly.

The library became suddenly silent and Snape shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "We're here to work, not gossip Miss Bowley," he said after a few moments.

"Miss Bowley is a bit formal, don't you think? Please call me Fanny. And it's just a simple question."

"Then I might ask you the same thing. Why aren't you in Hogsmede? I'm sure your Gryffindor friends are missing you right now." A disgusted look crossed his face.

"Like I said, I need the help," she said simply.

"Most people need help with this assignment, but I don't see them worrying about it."

"Sure, but I'm not 'everyone'."

Snape snorted derisively. "You wouldn't know it for the company you keep," he said.

"I'm serious, Severus,"-he looked startled that she would address him by his first name-"I want to improve in potions. And just because I spend time with James' crowd doesn't mean I'm just like them. I know you guys don't get along, but even if they're my friends, I don't have to agree with everything they say and think. I realize that they aren't very nice to you."

"That's very noble of you," he sneered, "but you don't know the half of it. It's easy enough to say you're against them, but it's a rather empty comment, don't you think, when you spend so much time with them." How he arrived at this conclusion, Fanny didn't know. She hadn't spent more than half a dozen afternoons with James, Sirius and the lot all year. Snape continued. "The company you keep reflects upon you; rather poorly in this case." He stood abruptly and began to collect his things.

The conversation had taken a strange turn, and Fanny didn't quite know what to make of it. One thing was certain, though: Snape was being a hypocrite. He kept the worst company possible. "So are you just like Violet, then?" she asked.

Snape turned on her. "My relationship with Violet is none of your business."

"Then why is my relationship with James' group any of yours?" she asked calmly. He stood papers in hand, looking uncertainly at the door. "Come on," she said placing a hand on his arm, "I'm sorry I ever brought it up. Can't we call it a truce?" Shrugging her off, he sat down, collected himself, and picked up the notes to continue.

"We shall keep our conversation restricted to potions, please." It wasn't a request, and Fanny didn't think it wise to challenge the point.

They worked on the assignment for another hour, and continued discussing various aspects of potion brewing afterwards. Snape was a wealth of information on the subject, and explained everything, from the most basic concept, to potions well above seventh year level, with passion and articulation. Around six o'clock in the evening the candles magically lit, and Snape cut off his explanation suddenly.

"Is it that late?" he asked in sudden panic.

"I expect it's almost dinner time. Do you have to be somewhere?"

"No, but the others will be back soon," he said, staring wildly about the room as if he expected a rabid manticore to charge through the door at any moment and devour him whole. "I must leave now." He shoved the neatly printed sheets of parchment roughly into his bag, grabbed his books, and left the library in a near run.

At dinner, Snape didn't acknowledge Fanny once, though he briefly made eye contact with her a few times. When Lily and the others asked about her day she lied, and told them she spent it studying in her common room. The Gryffindors seemed satisfied, but insisted that she spend the rest of the weekend with them. With no excuses ready, Fanny agreed. Three days suddenly seemed like a very long time.