A month had gone by, and the tension had grown evident. Harry, Ron, and Hermione noticed two things at every meal. One, their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was never there. Two, their Potions teacher barely ate, instead constantly watching the doors and her chair, as if expecting her to appear at any moment. Whether or not anyone else in the school noticed was beyond them. However, something was wrong.

Hermione was the first to note that she never saw Professor Drecorum outside of the classroom. A week before, she'd gone to the classroom very late in the evening to test a theory of hers, under the pretext of having misplaced her wand. There the professor sat, a tray of food being taken away by one of the house-elves, uneaten, while she furiously working over several scrolls, ink bottles, and books. She searched the stands for her at the first Quidditch game of the season, while Ron and Harry led the Gryffindor team in a shut-out victory over Hufflepuff, and never caught a glimpse of her. Cautious queries of Hagrid and Nearly Headless Nick supported her theory: Professor Drecorum almost never left her office.

Ron, however, was paying attention to the other professor who was acting oddly. Snape vacillated between total distraction and total irateness. While sitting at his desk while the students worked on their assignments, he seemed as if he was in another world, staring into space. When Malfoy made the mistake of asking what was wrong, Snape took the first twenty points from Slytherin that Harry and Ron had ever witnessed him take. When they stared at him with gaping mouths, he took an equal amount from Gryffindor.

"It's obvious they know each other," Hermione announced one day as the trio sat outside in the shade, books in hand, pretending to study. "Just look at the way they acted around each other at the Sorting. He was fixated on her, and she did her best to pretend he wasn't there."

"I'd pretend he wasn't there too, if I had Snape watching my every move," Ron pointed out, closing his book and laying on the grass to ignore Hermione's frown for interrupting her. "Probably creeps her right out."

Harry took his glasses off and rubbed his face, trying to stay awake. The burden of class work, Quidditch practice, and extra Defense classes had caught up with him. "There has to be more to it than that. Remember, she's the one who keeps harping us to remember that we make our own choices and not to judge others rashly. I mean, look at the lecture we got last week, all because Seamus uttered that comment about some Slytherins never change their scales. He'll be doing detention until Halloween. It's almost as if she thinks some good can actually come out of that house. But if she really believes all that, then why completely avoid the one person who represents the core of Slytherin House's ethics? I'm telling you, whatever's between her and Snape is personal. And believe me, I learned long ago to not deal with Snape's personal life." He fought to stay awake as he stared at his homework.

Hermione glared at him. "Well, I for one believe she's right. Just because most of the Slytherin students had Death Eaters for parents doesn't mean they will blindly follow suit. And besides, if it really is something personal, it's rude for us to snoop around and discover what it is. Teachers deserve lives too." And with that, she went back to reading her transfiguration book, with nothing more to say on the matter.

"Mr. Potter, a word please."

The throng of students pouring from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom made Professor Drecorum's request almost inaudible, but Harry caught it. Moving out of the way of his classmates, he stood by the door and waited for the small woman to approach him with whatever had caused her to pull him aside after class.

He wasn't kept long.

"Mr. Potter, Professor McGonagall is concerned that there's a scheduling conflict between Quidditch practices and Defense instruction in the evenings. Seems that Gryffindor has had to adjust their time to later in the evenings to accommodate any extra Defense sessions you would like to take part in. She's especially concerned after seeing you fall asleep on your broomstick at practice yesterday." Drecorum gifted him with a look that vaguely reminded him again of someone he knew, but he still couldn't place it. That bothered him. "Is this true?"

Harry nodded. Drecorum smiled slightly, concern still plainly written on her face.

"Mr. Potter...oh, hang formality, Harry, why are you putting yourself through all of this? Why are you working yourself so hard? McGonagall's not the only person who's come to me with complaints. Flitwick said you were snoring in class three days ago. Sprout told me some story about you confusing devil's snare and poison ivy. And they're only the ones who tracked me down today. In fact, the only professor of yours who hasn't come to me venting about Harry Potter's lack of sleep is..." Harry looked up as her voice trailed off. Drecorum shook herself, coughed lightly, and walked away from Harry and towards the front of the classroom. "Well, let's just say almost everyone's yelled at me and leave it at that. Harry, why are you taking this all on yourself?"

Harry looked at the professor as if she'd grown another head. She was kidding, right? "Why? Why? You really want me to answer that? Well, let me give you three reasons why. Voldemort, Death Eaters, and the Dark Arts. Good enough reasons for you? Or do I need to come up with another excuse for why I'm spending night after night on work for this class while trying to pretend to have a real life?"

Drecorum stared at the young man who stood behind her. Finally, after weeks of watching him keep silent in class, she'd gotten a spark of that fire everyone had told her about out of the famed young wizard. She knew how good he was at this subject; she'd watched him in class and at nightly sessions. She watched him even though he had no idea she paid attention. He was better than she was, to be perfectly honest. Better than almost everyone in all of Hogwarts.

Well, all except two people she knew.

"Harry, contrary to popular belief, I am well informed of what goes on in this school, despite the fact that I rarely venture outside this hallway. I know how you've been pushing yourself all this time, in this class and everywhere else. I had hoped you'd have come to your senses before now and realized that something had to give. However, I see that you're like your father was sometimes; stubborn to the core and reckless beyond comprehension. Let me say this to you: no matter how good the rationale, and may I point out that you have three really good reasons, you're not going to do yourself, this school, your friends OR the Order any good by falling asleep in class and half-killing yourself with exhaustion. Do I make myself clear?"

For a witch easily four inches shorter than Harry, she towered over him. She hadn't been this forceful with words since the first day of class. Harry swallowed audibly. "Yes, Professor."

She smiled at him and, from the pockets of her robes, withdrew a bar of chocolate. "Here, eat this, and let's discuss how to schedule your life so you can find time to sleep and save the world without resorting to a time-turner. I hate those contraptions. Sometimes you never know if you're going or coming!"

It was already the first week of November; the leaves outside were turning and fluttering away, school had been in session for two long months already.

Still, she avoided him.

It was becoming almost unbearable.

Severus sat in his office, his interest in reading over his students' assignments completely gone. As he had most nights since the school year began, the door from the outside hallway to his office was left open, his gaze permanently attached to the worn hallway outside.

The Potions classroom was in the lower depths of the castle, merely a minute's walk down the corridor from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Her classroom. How could the two of them teach and work in such close proximity and not eventually cross paths?

Because she's evading you, you complete and utter fool.

It wasn't as if she didn't have all the reasons in the world.

Rubbing his face again, he yawned. Some of the candles had already burned out, and still he sat, waiting for her to go by. He'd already seen Potter walk by for the third night in a row. She had to do the same, eventually. Not even Desi could stay up working until all hours of the night.

All he wanted was to see her. To speak to her. To apologize to her.

She wasn't going to give him that chance.

"Desi, please, listen to me..."

"Like hell I will. I can't believe you went through with it."

"Desi, I had to."

"No, you didn't! You didn't have to, Sev. Wasn't I enough reason for you to not do it?"

He realized too late that she had been.

Gods, what a fool he'd been at eighteen. Severus wished he could borrow a time turner for five minutes and kick himself before doing the one thing that guaranteed destroying her. Without conscious thought, he rubbed his upper left arm; he always did when he thought about that night. He couldn't help it – so much of his life and his past resided in the mark that was burned into his flesh.

It had been his choice, and his biggest regret.

All he asked was a chance, a single chance to try and undo the damage done.

One more candle died, leaving the room decidedly darker. Looking up out of his reverie, he noticed that the clock on the wall read midnight. She couldn't possibly still be in her office; no professor was that dedicated. Without thought or intention in his mind, he stormed from his office and marched down the hall, flinging her office door open wide without as much as a knock.

The room was empty.

Exasperated, he looked across the room at the fireplace in the corner, and at the fire dying in the hearth. A small container of floo powder told him the rest.

She wasn't just avoiding him. She was avoiding him like the plague.

In his ire, he slammed her office door closed behind him and marched towards his apartments near the Slytherin dungeons, fuming with every step.

Dumbledore had to have known this would happen. The old man wasn't a fool by any means. He knew the history that existed almost as well as the two of them did. Better, probably, since he knew both sides of the tale as well as what had happened since that night. He had to have known the two of them would get along about as well Potter and Malfoy. Not to mention the fact that no one he'd asked had known where Desdemona had disappeared to all those years ago. Why ask her to teach here? Why invite her here in the first place?

As he reached his door, he sagged against the wood for a moment. He knew why Dumbledore asked her to come and teach.

She was the only person he could trust right now.

The realization cut him as deeply as hearing her name in that hallway all those weeks ago had done.

Harry sat in Desi's classroom for the third time in as many days, having yet another lengthy conversation about Dark Arts and the Order. Sometimes they could be really heavy, leaving Harry with a world of knowledge to think about. Even Hermione was left silent when he talked about their conversations at night in the Gryffindor common room.

"Think about it this way. You've lived your life as a fairly decent person, haven't you?" When he nodded, Desi continued. "You've made decisions on whether or not to be a kind person, right?" He nodded again. "However, you haven't always been a good person every moment of every day, right?" Another nod. "Well, do those few bad deeds outdo the good you have done in your life? Do they negate all the times you've been brave or sympathetic, the times where you've sacrificed or given of yourself?" Finally, a head shake. She smiled. "Well, let's say that Draco Malfoy walked into my office in a few minutes and told me he didn't want to be a Death Eater like his father and wanted to change. Do you think that's possible?"

Harry struggled for words. "But, Professor, Malfoy hasn't done a decent thing in all the years I've known him. All he ever talks about are..."

Desi stopped him. "Yes, yes, I know. Mudbloods and the Great Lord. I knew Lucius back in the day. But, let's say for argument sake that he did, would he be able to undo the harm he's caused all these years?"

Harry paused. "I don't know, Professor."

A wan smile crossed her face. She loved these chats with Harry; they reminded her of herself and another professor many years before. But the conversation was turning dangerously towards topics she's rather not discuss; topics that she herself didn't want to debate with her own conscience.

Do as I say...

"And that, Harry, is why we can't assume that someone can't be turned back from the dark and towards the light. A few good deeds or a lifetime's; it makes little difference. What matters is what's in the heart, and how we decide, consciously, to act. The rest isn't always as relevant. We don't know, so we must trust unless given reason to do otherwise. And with that, Mr. Potter, I think it's time for you to go home."

As Harry walked toward the door, he finally summoned the courage to broach the subject he'd been walking around all evening. "Professor, can I ask you a question?"

Desi nodded. "Of course."

Harry swallowed hard. "If you believe all of this, about someone changing and wanting to correct their mistakes and conscious intentions and all that, then why do I have such a hard time trusting Professor Snape? I mean, he was a Death Eater, but now he's a member of the Order. I'm supposed to trust that he has dedicated himself to good, but I can't find it in me. Dumbledore tells me to, but I can't. He still treats me as if I were his enemy, although he claims to be on the same side I am. I just don't know what to do anymore. Do you trust him? Do you believe he really is deserving of my trust and respect? Can I outweigh the harm he's done with the good he's doing now?"

Desi stood in silence for a moment, trying hard to swallow the emotions that wanted to overtake her. How to answer Harry's question? She wasn't even sure herself if she could trust him. After all, the last time she had...

"Promise me you won't..."

"I couldn't take it anymore. Please, Desi, try and understand..."

She shook herself. This wasn't the time or the place. "Harry, I haven't spent time recently with Professor Snape, so I don't know how to best answer your question, but I will say this. Some people make choices logically and with consideration of the outcomes. Others make them out of emotion and without thought of the consequences. Remember that, Harry. There is a difference between deliberation and rashness. Try not to judge him too harshly." She paused to try and stop her voice from shaking. "Now, I have another student coming in a moment. If you don't mind..."

Harry left quietly, reflecting on what she'd said. As he shut the door, he almost thought he heard her begin to cry.

And as he rounded a corner towards Gryffindor's common room, he wondered what Draco Malfoy was doing in the classroom corridors at this time of night.

The old man stood quietly in the doorway of the open office, watching the younger man add ingredients with care and precise measurement. He'd learned years ago never to interrupt a Potions master in the middle of their work. Nothing caused tempers to flare more than a botched brew.

Moments later, the tall figure finally turned to see the visitor waiting in the doorway. "Headmaster. To what do I owe this visit?"

Albus Dumbledore smiled faintly. "I merely wished to come and see how you were doing, given everything going on in the world right now. You didn't seem particularly surprised at the meeting last night."

Snape rolled his eyes at the man who employed him, in more ways than one. "Was I supposed to be? Dumbledore, I served as that man's minion. I'm well aware of what he is capable of, more so than some people give me credit. The fact that he has finally stooped as low as that neither shocks nor alarms me. I told you years ago what he was capable of..."

"And I well remember that conversation, Severus. And like I told you, years ago, I may not always appear to trust your abilities or give you the credit you feel you deserve, but I appreciate your knowledge and choices far more than you will ever know."

Severus wanted to glare at the man before him, but found himself fully incapable of it. Dumbledore had done far more for him than almost any living person on the planet, and he well knew it. Not a day went by when he wasn't duly reminded of the efforts the older man had gone to in order to save him from his own mistakes.

Sarcasm was no way to repay the debt.

Dumbledore cleared his throat nervously, causing Severus to jerk his head up. Nervous was not in Albus Dumbledore's repertoire. "There was another reason for my coming down here, Severus. I wondered how you were coping with your newest colleague."

No wonder he'd been nervous. Severus stared back at him in shock. "I'm not."

Dumbledore looked as if that had been the response he expected. "I know Desdemona can be a little stubborn, but..."

"Stubborn? The woman refuses to so much as breathe the same air I do! Coping is the least of my concerns right now. She floo-powders herself back to her apartments so she doesn't have to risk passing me in a corridor. She refuses to eat a single meal in the Hall. She is actively ensuring that the two of us never make eye contact. It makes me wonder, Headmaster, what exactly you were thinking when you asked her to teach Defense in the first place!" His voice was raising, echoing off stone walls, and for once he didn't care. "You and I both know I'm more than qualified to teach that subject material, and year after year I get passed over for someone else to mess up the class. We don't have the luxury of wasting time anymore with these children, but instead you ignore my abilities and in some moment of wisdom bring in the one person whose hiring is a slap in my face. How exactly am I to cope with that?"

Albus stood there, taking the harsh words that he not only had anticipated, but deserved. He was right; he'd been purposely avoiding moving his Potions master to the Defense classroom. However, the younger man didn't know the reasons why, otherwise he wouldn't be so angry. But as to hiring Desdemona...things weren't working like he'd hoped it would.

Neither of them were happy with him right now. But sometimes, occasionally, things needed to be done in the best interests of larger circumstances, even if it hurt others in the process.

He knew more about that unfortunate fact of life than either of his young professors could imagine.

Dumbledore looked into Severus' face, his deep blue eyes boring into the cold black ones that stared at him in anger. "One day, Severus, you will understand how. For now, all I can do is ask you to continue trying to cope. No one can avoid a person forever, no matter how hard they try."

The headmaster then nodded and walked from the room, leaving behind a confused and frustrated man in his wake.