Holla! Now is the time where things get nuts and they get nuts in the present, so wipe off all that 80s residue and let's party like it's sometime in the early 00's! Remember I own nothing and to answer on reviewer's question, Snape can apparate inside of Hogwarts because I was a retard and didn't post the edited version of that chapter when he just ran like Hell! It happens, sometimes I drink red wine, watch too much Aqua Teen Hunger Force and forget. But enough of me - have some filler!

-D

And So It Goes

Winter quickly approached Hogwarts, the brown and gold of fall were suddenly replaced with the red and holly of the Christmas season. A thick blanket of snow covered the grounds of the famous school the week of final exams. Two groups of students lined the walkway in front of the main entrance of the school. On one side the Slytherins, on the other side, the Griffyndors.

"Hey Potter!" Yelled the Slytherin Draco Malfoy. Without thinking Harry turned to the direction of his name and was met square in the face by a high speed snowball. The ball threw Harry back into the snow. "Man down! Man down!"" cried Seamus Finnigan as he launched retaliation across the walkway. The snowball exploded on the chest of Malfoy's confidant Crabbe. Seamus, laughed aloud before taking a hit in the mouth.

The rules to this seemingly normal snowball fight were simple. After all, there was only one rule; no magic.

As the fight continued Professors Snape and Hunter crossed the grounds. They watched from afar as the Slytherins disappeared under a hail of snowball fire from the Griffyndor side.

"They're not nearly as good as we once were," commented Maylin. "Griffyndor

never stood a chance in our day."

"I agree," replied Snape, "their form is all wrong, Draco is trying to out-strength them, there's no strategy in that, even Longbottom is performing at a higher level than Young Malfoy."

"Damn that's depressing."

Snape suppressed a laugh and a smile. The last two months had been a mixture of happiness and torture. During the weeks after the Halloween Ball, Snape had worked nonstop trying to figure out Voldemort's next step in his fight for survival and domination. It had been weeks since Snape was summoned to the Dark Lord and intellectually he knew that meant serious trouble. He wanted to confide in Maylin the details of his mission. She knew he was a spy for Dumbledore, which lightened matters a bit, but there was so much more. She had no concept that he knew of pertaining to the Order nor did she know the full extent to the deal he had with the Dark Lord. Then again, no one knew about that particular deal.

Snape's relationship to the Dark Lord was convoluted at best. He had returned to Voldemort "willingly" in accordance to Dumbledore's orders. But Voldemort had already known of Snape's deception. How could he not, he plastered himself to the back of a former Hogwarts professor's head for a year. He had sent a most loyal servant to work in Hogwarts during the TriWizard Tournament. Snape knew that going back meant certain death if he could not convince Voldemort that he had only been acting out of fear of Dumbledore and in turn, truly spying for the Dark Side until Voldemort's return. After all, they had a deal. That damnable deal.

It wasn't difficult at first to convince the Dark Lord of his loyalties. He was of course, humbled by Voldermort's generosity, for not killing him upon first sight. His mission had been very give and take from the get go. From Dumbledore, Snape would received tailored information pertaining to the Order's plans, feed them to the Dark Lord, and when attacks occurred, the Order was at least prepared. In return, Snape was welcomed back into Voldemort's inner circle; Dumbledore had even lost certain confrontations in order to keep Snape's cover.

However the addition of Maylin Hunter to the equation had truly stirred things up. Why Dumbledore had brought her in was boggling to Snape and, at times, it hurt him. Not here, not now. Then again, Dumbledore didn't know everything. Dumbledore had no idea about he and Voldemort's deal, only that Snape had shown up at Hogwarts the night of James and Lily Potter's deaths, out of his mind, his son dead and his wife no where to be found, with a Dark Mark on his arm and a blood alcohol level that would shatter world records. He was broken, and when he begged for forgiveness, Dumbledore believed him. Maylin hadn't even given him that. But perhaps, on some level she was beginning to understand, and regardless of the obvious danger, Maylin and Snape continued to grow closer together. They could never show it with the students hovering around them constantly whispering and wondering. She was beginning to trust him again, slowly but surely, and for now, Snape could handle that.

Snape watched the horrible display of snow fighting a moment longer before turning back toward the warm castle. As he turned a numbing coldness struck his face. Snow blasted into his eyes, nose and mouth.

Snape's temperature rose. His eyes squinted with fury as he whipped his body around to face the two terrified groups before him.

Standing like a frozen statue, his lips quivering eyes wide, Neville Longbottom at 15 years old, shook to try and keep from crying in fear.

"Longbottom," hissed Snape. His sallow skin seemed to grow paler as his anger rose.

Severus. Said a sing-song voice in his head.

Snape paused for a moment. Turned and faced Maylin with the same fury as he had shown Longbottom.

"Excuse you, Professor," bit Snape, "but I'm perfectly capable of handling any situation I choose in any manner I choose without interference from you."

Just don't kill him, alright. She shot back.

"I'll kill him if I damn well please!" yelled Snape aloud as he approached the boy.

Snape stood in front of Neville. On the other side of the walkway the group of Slytherins snickered. "Silence Slytherin." Snape's voice was smooth, low and absolutely creepy. Malfoy and his cohorts quickly ceased all jabber. Snape stared down at the trembling Gryffindor. He placed his hands upon his waist cocked his head to one side.

"Where did you learn to throw like a girl, Longbottom?"

Neville didn't answer, though several of the Griffyndor girls wanted to jump in and give Snape a piece of their minds. Maylin rolled her eyes.

"Did you ever learn how to properly handle yourself in a winter combat situation, Merlin as witness, young man, if you cannot even throw a simple goddamned snowball just how the hell do you intend to defend yourself against serious dark arts?"

Neville continued to tremble, though he managed to sneak out an, "I don't know, Sir."

"Honestly, Longbottom I don't know why I waste my time with you."

Longbottom looked down ashamed.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for bad form."

The whole group of Gryfindors stood stunned. Their all ready swollen disgust of Severus Snape quickly back up on the rise. Snape glared over the group and slowly bent down into the snow and picked up a handful of the chilly whiteness.

"For future reference, Longbottom," said Snape slyly. "It's all in the wrist, you know." And with that Snape turned and launched the ball of snow at his own house. Before he could duck, the snow smashed Draco Malfoy in the face knocking him over into the snow.

Snape nodded in satisfaction and turned swiftly to Maylin.

"I dare say you'll be hearing from Lucius about that one."

Snape snorted. "Well, someone has to parent that child; it might as well be me. He's not really a bad kid you know. He stopped by my office earlier, girl problems, father problems, fifteen years old problems. He'll grow out of it."

"Severus, have you lost your mind? He's a rude, loud, loves to hear himself talk, pompous, bitter, and -"

"Fifteen?"

"Well, yes, fifteen, but -"

"He's fifteen."

"Well yes, but Severus-"

"Well yes, but Severus has to go downstairs and grade papers. And then we have that god awful meeting tonight."

"Staff meeting?"

"No, May, the meeting, meeting, Sirius Black and I in the same room not talking to each other meeting."

"Sirius Black?" Maylin squinted her eyes over the snow. "Professor I have no earthly idea what you are talking about."

Snape walked Maylin to the steps of the Hogwarts side entrance. He brushed down his over coat and shook the snow from his pitch black hair. He inhaled deep through his mouth.

"May, do you even read your mail?"

"I don't trust the mail."

Her face actually looked relatively serious.

"Fair enough. Well then, tonight, after lights out in Dumbledore's office. The Order is meeting to discuss the apparent absence in Voldemort since the last month."

"The Order?" Maylin's confused face stared into his serious face. "Severus, are you on drugs? You just said you were going to sit in the room with a serial killer and that I was going to have to sit there with you."

Snape thought for a moment. "You mean to tell me, May that Dumbledore hasn't clued you in on anything yet?"

Maylin shook her head. "Are you insinuating that I'm a mediocre seer and that what's going on is as plain as the nose on your face?"

Snape sent a sneer her way and reconsidered. "Yes, that is precisely what I'm saying."

"Well then, I'll be there, have fun in the dungeon." Maylin smiled and pinched Snape's arm.

"Oh!" She chirped turning away from the door. "What are you up to this evening after this so called meeting?"

Snape sent a small smile her way. "I believe I'm free actually, all caught up for once. Why do you have something in mind, professor?" His face tensed seductively. Maylin teased back.

"Well, perhaps you'd like to have a drink?"

"Or five?"

"Or five, yes, and then maybe we can get find excuses not to be around in the morning."

"That may just be the best idea I've heard all week, professor." His voice was so smooth it nearly killed her to turn away. "My place or yours, Sev?"

Snape leaned on the wall of the castle. "Yours."

"Nice, well then, love, is anyone looking?"

Snape looked over his shoulder and then turned and smiled back.

"Not a soul, for once."

"Good," she replied and kissed him softly on the lips. They parted silently and Maylin slipped inside the castle door. Severus shook his head then immediately winced in pain. "Dammit."

The Dark Mark on his arm had just begun to burn with a pain so intense he swore it bled. This meant only one thing. He was in trouble.