Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Rowling's novels is hers. The streetlights that turn off (ch.1) are from a novel by Douglas Adams (The long dark tea-time of the soul). As far as I know, I haven't taken anything else from anybody else's writings, but should you have the impression that something has been taken from your own writings, please notify me. Credits will be given where due. Credits for the rest are mine.

Chapter 4: First lesson

Maybe lunch wasn't such a good idea, Kate thought while she was following Tipsy to Professor Snape's rooms. The tiny elf had turned up in the library one hour ago and notified her, that lunch was being served in the Great Hall. Kate had been so submerged in her book, that it had taken her a few seconds to return to reality. Some reality that is, she thought and hadn't felt much better when she realized, that she was to eat in an enormous hall (the hall) with no more company than the headmaster, a giant – well, she didn't know if he really was a giant, but he certainly looked like one – and another ghost. Professor Binns, as he politely presented himself, was the history teacher, who would never let himself distract from the rewarding duty of imparting knowledge to young minds by such a minor event as death.

He didn't eat, being a ghost, but just participated at the meal, because he had heard of Ms Mehan's interest in history and was happy to answer all her questions. Kate surely had many of them by now. She had a true love for history and had found it amazing, to read about things she knew from such a strange point of view. If only it didn't all seem so – Stop repeating yourself, she reproached her inner voice. We all know by now that this seems unreal to you. And ?

All in all she spent a pleasurable meal. Hagrid, the giant-like man, seemed to be the hearty type, offering immediately to show her around the grounds. And Professor Binns was an unending source of information for her. The headmaster still made her feel a bit creepy, though. After all, for all his smiles and twinklings, he had decided that she stay here, not leaving her much room for decision. And how could he know and tell Professor Binns, that she had chosen to read about history, of all the books he had given her ?

No she was on her way back to the dungeons. It was already 5 minutes past one. Kate had wanted to get to her first lesson in time, but she had felt bad about interrupting Dumbledore's friendly questions about her home and her former job, so now she was late. And she had the bad feeling, that Snape wasn't the type who would take kindly to unpunctuality. She was right.

"Being punctual was hardly to be expected by somebody like you." was the cold reply to her somewhat timid excuse when she entered Snape's office. It was a very cold reply, given in a silky voice, loaded with undertones of: Silly girl, no way you should belong here, go home now. At least that's what she interpreted into what he said, and this was, what made her discard all the angry answers that would have come naturally to her under different circumstances.

Instead she considered the present situation: A dark, cold room, deserving – in contrast to her own quarters – the naming of dungeon. His position, almost looming over her, even though he wasn't that much taller. An angry scowl, the voice loaded with disdain. Perfect "indimidate the intruder" setting, she thought. Seen before, but actually quite impressing. You can tell the practice. Play-by-my-own-rules had always been her course of action when in a situation definitely put up to manipulate her.

"As I said, I'm sorry. I didn't want to be late, but I was hold back by Professor Dumbledore." she said calmly. Put blame where blame lies.

At least that answer didn't seem to work badly. He didn't insist on arguing with her about punctuality, just looked at her for a long moment.

"Come in!" he finally said. "I take it, you have done some preparatory reading by now ?"

"I read about the history of Hogwarts, from the witch trials to the foundation of the London School of Magical Economy, roughly." Kate answered, expectant of his reaction.

"And of course you didn't consider it useful to gather some – however basic – information on magic itself." – Sarcasm now. Great.

"Well, as far as I understood, the book does contain some useful information about the nature of magic. But of course, I am completely new to this area. So, if you would tell me, what I should read to find out ?" Keep sarcasm out of your voice, Kate. Let's see, how he reacts to this.

He reacted by handing her a parchment with a list of books – a long list – and the snide remark to read them for the next lessons. Still, Kate had the impression, that she had – somehow, in a very remote way, if at all – gotten his approval, or what went for it with this dark man.

"Today we will work on some very basic magic" he then proceeded, leaving no doubt how basic it would be. "You don't have a wand, I suppose ?" Kate just shook her had.

"Dumbledore had a set of wands brought down. Usually every wizard or witch has his or her own wand. But for a simple tryout, one of these might do." He looked at Kate, who nodded, unsure what to do now. "You will have to pick the wand that fits you best. If it's your wand, it should come to you, when called. Try now. Say 'Accio, wand!' and imagine a wand, which is yours, and only yours, flying into your hand."

How am I supposed to imagine my wand ? Kate looked at the row of wooden sticks in front of her. "Accio, wand" she said, with little conviction. Nothing happened.

"Try again."

"Accio, wand." Nothing.

"Try again."

"Accio …Look, what do you want me to do ?" Kate now was getting nervous.

"I won't explain everything twice. Imagine your wand …" "And how am I to imagine my wand ? What do I have to feel ?" she interrupted him, not really feeling up to staying calm to many more of these cold you silly woman are wasting my time-like remarks. She didn't get one.

"Think of the wand that lies in your hand, as if you were born with it. It is a part of you, it makes you feel whole. This wand is, what enables you to concentrate all your powers and use them …"

His voice was now free of the icy sarcasm it had held before. No longer trying to intimidate her, really telling her something instead. Kate concentrated on following his instructions and imagined something, that would combine with her, almost feeling the smooth, polished wood in her hand. "Accio, wand!" she finally whispered – and it happened.

"I did it !" she screamed, holding up a dark, wooden wand. "I got it !" she looked expectantly at her teacher. "What you told me, it really worked."

His reaction disconcerted her a bit, though. He was staring at the wand in her hand in disbelief. "Put it down." he finally said. "It flew to me, you said, it'd me my wand if it came to me like that." Kate continued excitedly.

"Put. It. Down."

Kate obeyed. Snape took the wand and looked at it, then at her again. "Who are you ?" he asked with a dangerously low voice.

Kate didn't know what to reply.

"What's wrong ?" she asked. He gazed at her, as if she was a dark enemy.

"Who are you ?" he asked again.

"You know who I am." Kate finally said. "I have told you everything, and somehow you people seem to have your own ways of finding out about me. I am the one who should feel at disadvantage here." They kept staring at each other.

"What's wrong ?" Kate asked again after what seemed an eternity.

"Nothing." was the reply. Then, after some considering, Snape told her: "Take up the wand again, swing it so the tip draws a loop from the right to the left and back, then point it at that book and say 'Wingiardum Leviosa'. You want to lift the book into the air now."

It was almost midnight when Kate fell asleep that night, exhausted beyond tiredness. The lesson had continued for hours and in the end she had lifted a book and a cauldron, transfigured aforementioned book into – nothing much different, just a book half the original size with a pink cover - , and managed to call a couple of things to her, just pointing her wand at them.

Snape had been a strict teacher. Breaks weren't a prominent part of his curriculum apparently, as wasn't encouragement. But his remarks had proved quite helpful. Still, his reaction to her first success with magic bothered her. And again and again he had stared at the wand, as if there was something unexpected with it. He hadn't allowed her to take it with her either, pointing out that a "mere beginner" would only cause havoc with it. His heart didn't really seem behind his scowling then, she thought. Interesting man, I wish … then sleep took over, quiet and welcome at first, until the nightmare set in.

At the same time, Severus was pacing up and down in front of the fireplace in his quarters, the events of the afternoon keeping him occupied. That woman definitely was a witch. She had had her difficulties with some spells, but that was to be expected, even though he would never tell her, that she had actually done quite well today. Unexpectedly well. Not like one of the few known cases of late-starters in magic, who usually found it much harder to perform only the easiest spells, and were hardly above squibs. She had had all the magic ready, just waiting for it to be focused into the right forms to work. And she had been able to understand, what she had to do. He couldn't help liking her a bit for it. But it bothered him immensely that …

He decided to talk to Dumbledore about it, even if it was late. He lit his fireplace and threw some powder into it. "Headmaster", he called.

"Severus, how did your first lesson go ?" came the cheerful reply from Dumbledore's head, dancing on top of the flames.

How did it go, I  kept her for eight hours without a break. Severus felt anger welling up in him. Dumbledore's plan would mean endless hours of hardest work for both of them, and he sure had to know that.

"She didn't do badly." he finally said.

"Anything unusual ?" the headmaster asked.

Snape hesitated. "Nothing." he finally said. "She'll have to go Olivander's though, to get her own wand. The ones we have here won't do for her."

"Fantastic, we'll have to organize a shopping-trip to London then." Dumbledore said. Then he added "I know, what you're doing to help her. I'm most gratified for it, you know that."

"Good night." Severus replied and turned away.

Only when the flames were extinguished he allowed his thoughts free reign. Why hadn't he told Dumbledore what had really bothered him ? Maybe, because the headmaster's thank you seemed to pale in comparison to hers, which had seemed so – honest. Severus' mind refused to ponder about the fact, that this was the first in a long, long time, that he had actually believed somebody expressing something as simple as a thank you.

Maybe I should have told him, that the wand she called to herself was mine, was his last conscious thought. Then the nightmare set in.

Author's notes:

Aryn Synester: You made my day !!!  More brooding is ahead, actually, some more action, too.