October 1st, 1993

Hermione is 14

Snape is 34

Severus Snape was sitting in his study, staring at a piece of parchment rather resentfully. His hands were firmly clasped in his lap, and his lips were pursed together tightly, so that it seemed the man was well…lipless. It took all of his self-control to not lunge at the unsuspecting piece of parchment and furiously rip it to shreds between his teeth.

"I will not…destroy…I will—I must not—destroy…Longbottom's…paper." He repeated this to himself over and over, chanting it like a mantra, with his eyes squeezed shut.

He made the mistake of creaking his left eyelid open. The parchment stared at him.

"YAAHHHH!" Snape lunged at it, his arms spasming across its surface, but not shredding it. "YAAHHHH, MUST—NOT—no, no, I will—

With that undeclared declarative sentence, Severus grabbed the nearest (and most unfortunate) quill and started scribbling red marks all over it—

"Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG! F! F, F, FAILURE!"

He unclenched his fist, let the quill drop to the table, and jerked back into his chair, head hitting against the headrest. Somebody was knocking at the door.

"Come in," he lessened his lips' pursing so that instead of being completely swallowed up, they were revealed in a rather attractive grimace.

The door opened and a beaming old man stepped into Severus Snape's private quarters.

"Ah, Severus! So glad to see I have found you."

"Macha!" Elli beamed, "I've been looking for you!"

"I really must applaud you Albus," Snape commented dryly, "No one has had the ingenious idea of searching my private quarters before."

"Where else would I be," Macha folded her arms haughtily, "Seeing as I can't really be separated from my shadow?"

"I see you've been grading papers…say, isn't that Mr. Longbottom's—

Snape hastily gathered the parchment rolls and proceeded to jam them unceremoniously into a suspicious looking drawer that repeatedly coughed out shreds of parchment.

"Or should I offer your drawer a cough drop?" Albus raised his eyebrow, amused.

"What's a cough drop?" Snape snapped, completely distracted.

"It's—well, yes, anyway back to business."

"Finally," Macha grunted, "He does have the penchant for beating around the bush."

Elli shushed Macha, "Listen to what he has to say. It highly concerns you and Lilith."

"Lilith? That half-deformed goddess?" Macha's lips curled up in a beautiful sneer.

"She won't be half-deformed once the girl is completely grown!"

"Psh," was all Macha would say. She fingered her holster longingly.

"And…what is this business you speak of?" Snape had finally averted his attention from the opposite wall to the Hogwarts Headmaster.

"There have been rumors," Dumbledore conjured up a poofy armchair in a rather unattractive shade of purple, "flinging around as usual."

"Black's escape is hardly anything new—

"It does not concern Sirius Black. It concerns the future of legislation."

"Legislation!" Macha cried out in disbelief, "What do we care about legislation?"

"Oh, you impertinent young girl!" Elli grunted, "Just listen to the man, and everything will become clear. Well, the mortal aspect of it."

"Always the mortal…." Macha grumbled.

"The future of…legislation?" Snape repeated. He mulled over this piece of information for a good while before his cordiality kicked in for the first time:

"Some tea?" He thrust his hand in the direction of a teapot. Immediately, lines laced throughout its surface and the teapot fell in shatters.

"Er…I suppose not, Severus. You should really think about turning the temperature up a notch—if teapots are reduced to shattering…."

Even by now, Elli was getting irritated with the two men. She leaned into Dumbledore's ear and whispered something.

"Oh, yes! Legislation. There have been rumors flying around—in the Minister's head anyway—about a new legislation that will take place if Voldemort were ever to return."

Snape snapped to attention.

"If the Dark Lord returns? That is the last thing on Fudge's mind…no, no to say that would imply that it actually crossed his mind—the dunderhead—

"Now, then Severus. As I was saying, there is the small matter of some legislation."

"Hardly a small matter in my experience," Macha sniffed in disdain.

"Hardly a small matter in my experience," Snape sniffed in disdain.

"In this case it is something of a rather important matter," Elli explained.

"In this case, it is rather of great importance," Dumbledore informed.

"Is there in echo in this room?" Snape asked.

"Echo, get out of here before I put a piece of steel in your ass!" Macha roared.

The small goddess, Echo, stuck her tongue out at Macha, but she immediately dispersed out of her fear for the war goddess.

"If we could please get back to the topic…" Elli rolled her eyes, posture as stoic and graceful as ever.

"If we could get back onto topic…." Dumbledore encouraged Snape.

"Uh, yes, the topic. I have—" Snape coughed at the same time his drawer let out another hacking cough, followed by a shower of paper shreds, all with Longbottom's handwriting on it, "—papers to grade…unfortunately."

"And while I am sure the feeling is mutual," Dumbledore eyed the drawer warily, "I am just going to inform you directly. If Voldemort is to return to power, then there will be a Muggle banishing legislation…for their own protection."

"This is what Fudge is toying with? Why? Is he in league—

"No, Fudge is acting of his own accord, although that's not much better, but even I am not sure as to why he is proposing such a radical bill."

"When he says Muggle…."

"He means anyone who is Muggle born. Half-bloods are exempted but their Muggle ancestry must be banished from the wizarding world. Fudge's reasoning is that they would be left unprotected in the 'hot zone' so to speak, but I have my suspicions that Fudge simply does not want to put in the energy for extra protective measures for the benefit of Muggle-borns and the half-bloods' relatives."

"Headmaster, I am extremely—" Snape kicked the drawer who was now breathing quite loudly, "—I am extremely honored that you are sharing this with me, but I am curious…quite curious as to why we are having a private meeting about this matter when it surely would be so much more beneficial if the entirety of the staff were to discuss it?"

"The staff—" Dumbledore said gravely, "are not all trusted members of the Order."

Snape let out a choking cough.

"The Order? That's—

"It is not so far in the past than you think, Severus."

"It dispersed twelve years ago!"

"Well…I suppose to a young man like you it is a bit further…." Dumbledore conceded.

"Yes, well…is that all? Fudge is planning to draw up a bill to push in a case of emergency?"

"Oh, he's already drawn it up."

"What!" Snape tried not to choke again; doing it too many times would lessen the effect.

"He's drawn up the bill?" Macha frowned, but her tone was curious.

"Oh, yes," Elli chuckled, "Dumbledore doesn't know this, but Fudge's gotten himself into a bit of twist concerning a young Muggle born woman at the Ministry, and he wants to have this bit of handy dandy information on hand so he can offer her compliance."

"Compliance?" Macha wrinkled her nose, "What is—

"—I am not entirely familiar as to what you mean by compliance, Albus," Snape said coldly.

"There is a bit of a clause to this bill—most likely to lessen its harshness because even Fudge understands how terrible it is to be a witch or wizard and to have your magic bound by law."

"You're saying he's adding this clause out of sympathy?" Snape sneered.

"He was always smart," Macha said affectionately, "Now watch as he detracts what the clause is really all about from Albus."

"I suppose—

"Albus, as fascinating as this is, this will not apply to me in any way, and if the Dark Lord, I daresay, does return to power, it will not be for several years. I have some…." Snape's eyes flickered to the steadily growing pile of paper shreds next to his feet, "er, things to grade."

"Quite to the contrary, it may apply to you in…unexpected ways."

"Unexpected ways? Albus…."

"Oh, I cannot say…it is quite a wild theory of mine, but…." The Headmaster broke out in uncontrollable chuckles. "Well then, Severus. I will leave you to you grading—and may I suggest…Reparo." He flicked his hand and the paper shreds that had been gathering at Snape's feet flew up in the air and repaired themselves into a neat stack of parchment.

"Thank you," Snape said, really not all that thankful, "But do you mean to tell me that you simply came down here, informed me of an intriguing piece of information, and now are about to leave without leaving me with any idea what you might be planning?"

Dumbledore simply chuckled again and exited with a gloating Elli trailing him close behind.

"You can't just leave us here like that!" Macha yelled after Elli, "You may have seniority, you may be stronger, but I will, by God, find a way!"

"You do that!" Elli called behind her back.

"I need to get out of here," Snape grumbled, pushing his chair backwards.

Hermione Granger was biting her lip furiously as she flipped through a particularly heavy-looking book. It was labeled as The Grandmaster's Grandmaster's Grand Book of the Grandmaster's Nastily Complex Potions; she had recently discovered it in the very corner of the Potion classroom. Harry was standing off to her side, sighing impatiently.

"For once, you're here before class starts. I have so much to tell you…Hermione, why are you looking at that? Snape could—

"Deduct points? Brilliant, Potter…if only you could exemplify that deductive reasoning in your Potions' papers…."

Hermione glanced upwards immediately, face turning a brilliant red. Harry just did his customary, I'm-just-going-to-seethe-to-myself-like-the-moody-isolationist-I-am seething.

"Well…meddling in restricted classroom books…that would be—five points—oh, and another five points for not offering guidance to Hermione, as you should have done so when her ever-so-meddlesome—" he spat these few words out, "—persona started manifesting itself once again. Sit down."

Hermione now started seething too, but Harry was puzzled. There was something different about the way Snape said that…he sat down in his usual seat, between Ron and Hermione, but he couldn't get his mind off of it. Snape was continuous, never-changing. If he started acting differently, there was something very wrong.

There was a horrific squeaking of chalk on the board as Snape was conjuring the usual directions for potion-making on the board. In the middle of stew the beetroots with approximately one drop of monkshood and a dash of ginger root with Vesuvius earthsoil, the words 'SIRIUS BLACK' was shakily written.

"Banieraus," Snape growled. 'SIRIUS BLACK' disappeared immediately, leaving a classroom full of very confused Gryffindors and Slytherins.

"Professor—" Hermione started to say.

"Silence, Granger! Begin the potion, and if anyone has the audacity to mess up on this particular day it will be a Saturday detention and ten House points!"

"Prof—

But Hermione was cut off by Ron's hand on her mouth. He was leaning across Harry, his arm bumping Harry's nose rather uncomfortably.

"Be quiet! Do you want to get more House points taken off!"

"Unhand Granger, Weasley!" Snape snapped immediately.

Harry was surprised. He had figured out what was strange about the way Snape was speaking, and now he seemed particularly miffed that Ron was touching a part of Hermione that people did not normally touch.

Snape had called Hermione…well, Hermione. Harry was completely befuddled.

"Once Potter wipes off that glazed, I-haven't-a-clue-as-to-what's-happening look off of his face, you can pair up with him Malfoy. Weasley, you'll be with Zabini, Parvati with Goyle, and Granger…you can be with Bulstrode. Do not make me say it again: begin."

Snape then promptly sat down at his desk and forcefully opened a newspaper. He half-read it and half-watched the Granger girl.

Snape couldn't believe how much she had grown in the short time from thirteen to fourteen. Secretly, Snape always found it fascinating observing as his female students made the transition from girlhood to puberty. He was no pervert, especially not one who was amorously fascinated with young girls, but there was just a way that the new curves appearing overnight and the changing of the structure captivated him.

This was especially true of the Granger girl. She'd always been a skinny thing, but she now was a little…chubby. Snape didn't observe the girl eating, but when he did catch involuntary glimpses of her in the Great Hall (one of the hazards of sitting at a table elevated above all others), she was never overeating and always had a tasteful, healthy dish in front of her. Her robes hid what newly minted parts were now forming, but briefly, he caught glimpses of a flash of skin under the neck of the robes, a graceful contour of the leg when her robes hitched against the table leg….

"Professor?" a cold voice, not unlike his own, interrupted his thoughts.

"What is it Malfoy? Surely you are able to brew this independently?"

"Potter's messed it up," Malfoy sneered at the Potter boy who was now furiously prodding a bright pink concoction.

Snape felt a surge of annoyance at both the Malfoy boy and Potter—he knew exactly what they had done wrong…only adding fig leaves and letting it brew for five extra minutes would remedy it, but he wasn't about to tell them that….he gleefully fantasized about the Vanishing charm he would use—

He then saw the Granger girl lean over to Harry and his skin bristled. Her lips were touching that Potter boy's ear, her hair falling against his cheek…how dare he? How dare Snape for—no, no, his hand flew up to his temples and he rubbed the furiously.

"Return to your seat Mr. Malfoy—

Snape was about to raise his wand and vanish the potion, when it suddenly reverted to the dark, olive green color it was supposed to be. He noticed some stray fig leaves that were strewn about near the cauldron—

Granger! Again, the girl couldn't stop butting in.

"Five points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all," he snapped.

Snape noticed with disappointment that when the girl's face fell, her expression becoming pained, that he only felt a small bit of satisfaction. Nothing compared to what he felt as usual.

"There must be something wrong with me…maybe I'm coming down with something…." Snape muttered to himself. For consolation, he started scratching red marks on Longbottom's paper again.