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To Recap (Why? Because I have to.): Willow, still feeling that she's too dangerous to be around her friends, hopped the first flight to England, wanting to isolate herself once again. Accidentally, however, she ends up riding the Knight Bus and entering the Wizarding World. She gets herself locked up beneath Gringotts, with Fudge is more than ready to ship her off to Azkaban, when Dumbledore interferes. Through powers of persuasion Willow is given a sentence at Hogwarts. She also gets cleaned up, and is given new books, robes, and a very special wand made of stone. Upon arrival, she is reunited with her "Aunt Trelawney" (who'd of thunk it?) and gets sorted into Hufflepuff. Last, but certainly not least, she finds out that she's going to be an assistant teacher in DADA. At the Great Feast, she is then shocked to discover that the professor she will be assisting is none other than Severus Snape! The students are doomed, Willow is definitely done-for, and that is where this chapter picks up…

ShadowElfBard

Two Days Later

2:13 pm

Defense Against the Dark Arts class

(Willow)

Hell, thy name is Defense Against the Dark Arts.

   I knew it was going to be bad from the start, knew that none of it would be easy, but it would have been nice for someone to inform me that I was going to want to rip my hair out in agony. The class itself, the teaching part, isn't all that bad. Most of the creatures or spells that we've been teaching about I've come up against before. No, the class is easy, really. It's that demon that's pissing me off.

   Yes, it's official. There is no possible way that Severus could be anything but an evil, greasy, horned demon from a hell dimension where they demoralize and humiliate you for eternity. That's all there is to it. No mortal man could possibly be this horrid (I used a Giles word! :-D).

   Maybe this is punishment. It is the Wiccan rede that if a witch casts an evil spell, she will be punished three times for the wrongdoing. Maybe the Goddess decided that she didn't have time to send three different punishments my way, and so she just balled them all into one conglomeration, breathed life into it, and named it Snape.

   But, oh look; it's time for class again. Maybe if I try really hard, I'll actually get to teach something without having to hold back from killing my colleague.

   The Gryffendors and Slytherins file in, looking warily from me to Snape. So far Snape and I have only taught two classes (if you can call it teaching) and it was with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Obviously, word must have gotten around what those joyful hours were like, and so the students fear what might come next.

   To tell the truth, so do I.

   The current object of my loathing stands in front of the class with a smirk on his face and an almost twinkle in his eye.

   "Good afternoon, class. I trust that you are just as excited as I am to be once again back at Hogwarts, ready for another year of parchment filling, spell casting, and…" his smirk widens, "…general torture."

   A small boy near the back of the class with a toad (eep!) on his desk gulps nervously and starts to shake.

   "I, Professor Snape, whom most of you know from Potions, will be heading your Defense Against the Dark Arts class this year."

   "Along with me," I quickly pipe in, "Professor Rosenberg."

   Snape shoots me a glare that could boil water, enraged, it seems, at the very fact that I exist. I ignore him though, and sit back down in my seat by the desk. Note the fact that I have to sit by the desk, not at it. You see, Professor Snape has, for the past classes, treated me as though I wasn't even there. I've been ignored, sometimes humiliated, and forced to run around on pointless errands like some secretary.

    Which, to clarify, I am not.

   "Ah, yes," Snape says in a forced, sickly sweet tone, "this is my… assistant. But do not think for one moment that I am not the dominant authority in this classroom." He narrows his eyes. "Should any of you get it into your tiny brains that it would be a good idea to disrupt my lesson, you will answer to me."

   Did anyone else feel a sudden chill? Anyone? Anyone at all?

   "Now then," Snape continues, once again returning to his belief that I'm not there, "this year you are going to be taught a multitude of information that the previous professors of this class have been too incompetent to teach. There will be no simple boggarts, no copying words out of textbooks. You will work, oh yes, and you will face things from the darkest reaches of your psyche, but you will not pass this class with both your mind and body intact if you think for one moment that this years' Defense Against the Dark Arts will be anywhere close to the ones you've had in the past.  You will actually be required to think." He gives a sneer. "Which, I'm afraid, will leave you out of the equation, Mr. Longbottom."

    There is a rise of snickers from the Slytherins at that, and angry glares from the Gryffendors. "Mr. Longbottom" simply reddens and shrinks down in his seat.

   "Well, let's get started." Snape turns and motions to me. I stand, wondering if I'm finally going to be able to help teach this class, when he points towards a large scroll lying on the desk. I deadpan. You big stupid-head, I think hotly.

   With obvious reluctance I pick up the scroll, walk over, and drop it into his outstretched hand, trying to ignore his high and mighty smirk as I return to my seat, silently cursing him in every language I know.

   And, in case you were wondering, I know three.

   Snape unravels the parchment and holds it up, showing a picture of a strange, bat-winged beast. "This is a mystical beast which I am very reluctant to even mention to you, because I highly doubt that any of you possess the iota of knowledge needed to even understand this creature's relevance to today's lesson. But, as a result of the unwisely idolized Lupin," Snape puts as much loathing as he can into the name, " you have done nothing more than conjure a sundress for a boggart. So it is understandable why I am so rather anxious to evaluate any skill you might possibly possess."

   While everyone else seems to grimace at this portent of doom, one bushy-haired girl leans in so far that she's almost out of her seat—her eyes filled with an anticipatory eagerness.

   With a quick swish of his wand Severus gets rid of the scroll and magically opens a drawer to the desk at which I'm currently seated. I watch in curiosity and more than a little agitation as a small cage containing an even smaller creature floats over to Snape's open hand. He holds up the locked-in beast and slowly shows it to his uneasy students.
   "This is a gargoylas. A cousin to the well-known gargoyle, but with certain unshared features. Would any of you happen to know what those features are? Anyone? Anyone at all?"

   The frizzy haired girl is almost whining in frustration, her arm nearly out of its socket.

   Snape, however, purposefully ignores her.

   Just as I'm beginning to wonder how long we're all going to have to sit here before my esteemed colleague gives in and lets the girl answer, a tentative hand is raised in the back. Snape raises a cool brow and nods at the student—a small boy with nervous blue eyes and chestnut brown hair.

   "Yes?" Snape asks in a flat, almost uninterested tone. "And your name is…?"

   "Ph-Phillip Klein, sir. And, um…" the boy squirms in his seat, "i-isn't the gargoylas not affected by sunlight and um… is, is really strange 'cause it is, uh…" he gulps and finishes weakly, " both male and female?"

   There is a deathly silence.

   "That is… correct," Severus says slowly, letting the air back into the room. He squints at the student. "What House are you in?"

   "Sl-Slytherin, sir."

   Snape looks positively shocked, but is, amazingly, still calm and cool. "Really? With how spineless you are? The Sorting Hat must be losing its touch."

   The boy nearly faints from the release of pressure and slides down into his seat where his companions automatically began patting his hands and reassuring him of his safety.

    Before I know what I'm doing, before I even have a chance to think about the consequences, I suddenly blurt out, "Good job, Mr. Klein. Five points to Slytherin."

   By the stunned stillness in the room, I can pretty much guess that I've done something wrong. Hm… I wonder what it could be? (Please note the heavy sarcasm in my thoughts.)

   Snape turns around slowly, like a tough and serrated bottle cap that someone is trying to twist off with their hands. His very posture growls anger and insult. If I wanted to, I could probably guess what he's thinking right now. It's probably something along the lines of, You insolent, and stupid little girl! Who do you think you are, awarding points like you're a teacher or something?

   Well, gee, Mr. Snape, I guess I only did it because I'M NOT JUST YOUR FREAKING ASSISTANT, DUM-DUM HEAD! I'M A TEACHER, TOO!

   For a moment Severus and I lock eyes, and we glare at each other in what can only be described as a standoff. I'm too riled up to back down and he's too full or righteous fury to admit that I was justified in awarding those House points.

   But, strangely, Snape decides to step down on this one, perhaps thinking that there will be other, more important battles in the future and this one is too trivial to waste time on. He forces his thin lips to form something resembling a smile, and looks back over at Phillip.

   "Yes, 'good job', Mr. Klein."

   And once Snape has faced the cage again, I hear a small and amazed voice whisper, "Merlin's beard… have I gone off my rocker or has Professor Snape just given a compliment?!"

    Upon hearing that, I mentally smile and think, I wouldn't take it too seriously. Not if the way his hand is trembling in rage is any indication of his true feelings.

   "The gargoylas' relevance to this class," Severus begins, still shaking with suppressed ire, "is, as Mr. Klein mentioned, in the interesting fact that it has no determined sex."

   There are a few giggles at this, and Severus rolls his eyes but continues talking.

   "The focus of today's lesson, however, is not the creature itself. The gargoylas is merely the subject that will be used to demonstrate a new spell."

    At these words he puts the small cage down on the floor and aims his wand at it. "Engorgo!"

   The class (and myself) watch in awe as the cage-- and the scary, hairy creature inside it—grow life size. Oh, and did I point out that it's really, really ugly? Not to mention that it most certainly has both male and female… um… parts.

   The creature looks around in silence, astonished at how small we've become, and then starts growling and hollering as it had before. Only this time, with its larger size, the howls and roars from this creature are not small and comical, they aredeafening. The students aren't the only ones in the class shuddering at the sound, I'll tell you that much.

   Snape glares briefly at the creature, and then mutters a spell and idly flicks his wand. The gargoylas' mouth melds closed, and its' eyes blink in almost comical confusion.

   "The spell I am going to attempt to teach you is relatively simple, but does require some technique. Are any of you familiar with the Sepratorum curse? No? I did not think so."

   "Then why did you ask, you cretin?" I mutter under my breath.

   "The Sepratorum is designed to split the victim into two separate beings, one filled with one aspect, the other filled with the opposite aspect. All the spell-caster need do is specify what feature he wants divided. This comes in handy, because while it separates the aspect, it divides the being's strength, speed, and abilities as well. Still lost? I expected as much. Fine, just watch."

   We do just that (and with rapt attention) as Snape does the unthinkable—he unlocks the creature's cage.

   Though the gargoylas' mouth is missing, its' razor sharp claws are still as ready for shredding as they were before, and they slide out of their sheaths not moments after the door to its' cage swings open. The beast shoots into the air with its' powerful wings—sending the students under their desks and swirling up loose parchment in a whirlwind of chaos.  It narrows its' green-gold eyes at Snape and then makes a falcon's dive at his face—the tiny daggers it calls claws aimed with deadly precision.

   To his credit, however, Snape does not flinch (I'm beginning to suspect that he's the bigger monster in this showdown), but instead aims his wand almost lazily and yells out, "Sepratorum sex!"

   The creature's lethal dive stops short as it collides with a purple-black stream from Snape's wand. The gargoylas, bewildered and dazed, seems to halt in midair, beating its' wings slowly, and then falls to the ground in a crumpled heap.

   The students peek out from under their desks, a few even throwing caution to the wind and coming all the way out. I, myself, however, am perfectly content in my crouch, thank you.

   After a few more seconds, all of the students are getting back into their seats. One such student, a blonde-haired Gryffendor boy, gives a nervous smile. "Well," he says, "that was sort of anticlimac—"

   There's a fresh wave of screams and dives for desks as a brilliant white light engulfs the motionless body of the gargoylas. This time, once everything has calmed down again, there are two creatures where before there had been only one. In almost synchronized movement the two beasts slowly stand and outstretch their wings, studying each other with confused curiosity. It is here that Snape decides to pick up the lesson.

   "If you have taken time from your quivering to notice," he says with a curled lip, "the gargoylas is now duplicated, with just one small difference between the two copies." His curled lip rises even higher with mirth. "Can you see this 'small difference'?"

  If they can't, I thought to myself, then they're blind.

  The difference? Well, to make it as obvious as I can without being vulgar, let's just say that one of them now has a burrito, while the other has a taco. That's right: He/She has become Mister and Missus. And do the students notice? Puh-leaze. These are pre-teens and teenagers we're talking about. They practically search for this kind of thing. And if the girl's blushes and the guy's leers are any indication, they've found it.

   As we're all captivated by this strange and more than slightly disturbing scene, there's a snicker from the back and I recognize the owner almost straight away. It's the clone! The little blonde-haired boy who sneered at me in greeting when I was caught in Knockturn alley! Snape hears the snicker as well and puckers his lips in distaste.

   "Do you find something amusing about the Sepratorum curse, Mr. Malfoy?"

   Mr. Malfoy (I seem to remember his name as Drain-o, or Drape, or something like that) raises an eyebrow in cool amusement, his little smile/sneer in place. "I was just wondering, professor, how separating the creature's bush from its' todger makes it easier to kill."

   That got a loud, appreciative laugh from everyone in the class, including the Gryffendors, and Snape's lips tighten so much that they seemed to fold in on themselves. I'm left behind for a few minutes, not familiar with the slang, before I realize what 'bush' and 'todger' must mean, and have to suppress a grin of my own.

   Without waiting for the adolescent chuckling to die down, Snape says, "Well if you don't learn well through listening, Draco, perhaps you would better learn through an interactive demonstration."

   There is complete silence at this, and Draco Malfoy blanches.

   Snape smiles thinly. "Please come up here, Mr. Malfoy, and do be so kind as to bring your wand as well."

  Malfoy looks from the boy on his right to the boy on his left (both of enormous girth and probably equal stupidity) but when they both give small, helpless shrugs he nervously stands and walks to the font of the classroom.

    Snape is obviously amused, and speaks to Draco in a light, amiable tone. "Did you know, Mr. Malfoy, that the gargoylas is listed as the fourth deadliest magical creature? It's right after hippogriffs, actually. You remember what hippogriffs are, don't you?"

   There's a round of snickers at that, and I see Ron, Harry, and the frizzy-haired girl grin at each other knowingly.

   Draco simply nods, his wary eyes on the two gargoylas.

   "So," Snape continues, "If my dividing spell has not worked, and if it truly has done nothing more than create two deadly beasts instead of one, you will presumably be mauled to death if you attack it."

   "Presumably," Draco squeaks.

   "Well then, we have a perfect way to prove or disprove your doubts! All you need do is assail them with a rudimentary spell. If you miraculously manage to injure them, then we will know that the Sepratorum works. If the opposite happens and you are killed, I will, of course, admit that I was wrong and apologize. Good luck."

   And so, ignoring Malfoy's bulging, terrified eyes and gaping mouth, Snape shoves Malfoy in the direction of the gargoyles and steps back to watch with a cruel glimmer in his eyes.

   The moment that Malfoy crosses into the gargoylas' territory, stepping over that imaginary line that marks one's boundaries, they both let out fierce bellows that the wildest lion would cower before, and swoop at him, talons outstretched. They are the hawks in this scenario, and Malfoy but a little fish that is unable to swim away.

   For one, awful moment I'm sure that this rude but still innocent boy will be shredded to pieces before my wide, shocked eyes. But, luckily, it seems that this Professor Lupin that Snape isn't too keen on must have taught the boy something more than "conjuring sundresses for boggarts" because he manages to raise his wand and launch a spell despite his fear. I'm unable to hear the word he must have whispered (I don't think my voice box would be working too well at this moment, either) and a little stream of fire spurts forth from the tip of his wand. What happens next is one of the most amazing things I have ever seen happening.

   Now, remember that these gargoylas are roughly six feet tall and armed to the teeth. They have rippling muscles, mighty wings, dagger-tipped claws and thick, powerful tails that can literally sweep you off your feet. Now, also remember that Malfoy is nearly peeing his pants with terror, and therefore is not going to have all his wits together enough to be up to his full potential. Whatever spell he manages to cast— no matter how powerful it might usually be— is going to be dinky. And that's the best-case scenario! So it is understandable why I am a little stunned when I see Malfoy's dinky little fire smidgen bring down not one, but both of the gargoylas.

  The two beasts hit the ground hard— knocked out, K-O'd, pulled under, and out cold. In other words, they're down for the count.

   "And that," Snape whispers calmly, "Is the significance of the Sepratorum."

   There's a moment more of silence, and then the Slytherins stand up. They stand, and they clap, and they hoot and holler at the tope of their lungs. Malfoy swells with pride then (he seems to be able to swell very easily, it appears) and gives—to my utter amazement— a confident little smirk. The kind of smirk that seems to say, Yes, cheer for me, my adoring fans. I am great, and I am powerful. I had everything under control from the moment I stood up. That little smirk makes my blood boil and my head throb because, as you well know, he had not had everything under control. Heck, when those two creatures had swooped down on him I doubt if he'd had his bladder under control.

   But he accepts his praise as though he had, and walks back to his seat waving and bowing like a politician. Snape even smiles a little at him (he probably had this planned all along— I'd forgotten that Malfoy is in his House) and gives a golfer's clap before he magically poofs away the comatose bodies of the gargoylas. The Gryffendors simply look at each other with nausea written all over their faces, just as I'm sure that same disgust is decorating my own features.

   Severus Snape, that arrogant, jerk of a dum-dum head, turns in my direction then, and I can hardly keep from pummeling him when I see his own little smirk. A smirk that, like Malfoy's, speaks loudly and plainly.

   And do you still think you can be a teacher? it says, high and mighty. Do you still think you can pull anything even close to what I pulled just now? You are nothing more than an empty-headed little American girl who is only here to brew me tea, and you are too stupid to even have reached that obvious conclusion.

   My scowl is just as loud, however, and to that ostentatious smirk it replies:

   You suck.

Review Returns:

   azulkan2: Thanks for the compliment but (and I'm truly sorry about this) Severus and Willow will NOT be hooking up. It's just not in the cards, though I know that many wish it were.

   lazybones: I'm glad that you like the Hufflepuff thing, and I like the idea of Willow driving Snape insane (or the other way around). At this point, it's very possible.

   Watcher Tale Neith: Dang it! I thought that he'd already been given a name… sigh Thanks for the real name, though. As I mentioned to azulkan2, I'm afraid that Sevvie and Willow aren't getting together. Sorry. But, as to your last bit, you're right, it would be amusing.

   ColdFang: Thanks!

   Spearsister: Yeah, I loved the last line too. It just seemed to fit so well! And thanks for not teasing me, but I think that this time you'd probably be justified in doing so.

   Phoenix83ad: Whoa! Thanks for the long review! I can't tell you how delighted I was when I saw it. And so, to be fair, I will attempt to write you an equally long response.

   Thanks for the compliment on the perspectives— I sometimes feel like they just don't line up but I'm glad to see that you don't think so. Also, interesting questions, and I hope I can answer them for you. As to the "How would Willow not know she's a witch?" question, it wasn't completely clarified in "Gingerbread" that Willow's mother remembered, and, also, who's to say that she really believes that Wiccans have power? Her mother was more angry at the fact that she wasn't Jewish and was (in her opinion) in a cult, rather than at the idea that her daughter might have supernatural powers. And as to her father mentioning it, he didn't know. Trelawney, as all readers know, is not the most powerful witch. She is, in fact, about as close as a witch can come to being a squib. The only powers she has (which are faint at best) come from her grandmother, and she did not discover that she was a witch until she was sixteen or so, and by that point her parents had broken up and she'd been separated from her brother (Willow's father) who'd been sent to live with her mother. Hope that answers it for you!

   Lol, you're right about the kids being doomed, and I am also happy to tell you that this isn't a Snape/Willow love story, but she will be paired with someone. Hope you enjoy the chapter, and once again I thank you for the review.

    Zanna: LOL, all right, all right. I'll update. Chuckle

   Usakura: Genius? WOW. I've never had my work called "genius" before… thanks! And, no, I'm sorry but Willow and Snape won't becoming an item.

   Village-Mystic: Thank you VERY much for reviewing all of those chapters. It was a wonderful surprise. I'm sorry if my review begging came off as needy and annoying, and I want to assure you that your statement about it got through loud and clear. I'm going to try harder to be more blasé about them. Also, the fairs and festivals proposal is rather interesting and I might just be able to use it… hmm… anyways, thanks a bunch for the reviews, and I hope you're still enjoying the story.

   Dragonsdaughter1: Lol, I'm glad I was able to keep you on your toes. Thanks for the review!

   Chaos Eternus: First off, I love your pen name. Very cool. Also, what does "ROTFMLAO" stand for? And lastly, thanks for the review, and I think you're right about the trio's response. D.

   Braindead: You giggled? Lol, thanks. I'm glad you got a kick out of it.

   Prophetess Of Hearts: YES MA'M! giggle

   Selene 12: I'm pleased that I was able to surprise you. Thanks for the nice review, and it's okay— I'm impatient too. ;-D

   Sigma1: Wow, I didn't know that anyone was going to be so enthusiastic about my Sorting choice… to tell the truth, I was actually expecting flames. Oh, and the Sorting Hat's exact words about Hufflepuff were:

   "…Hufflepuff,

   Where they are just and loyal,

   Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

   And unafraid of toil;"

"Just" could easily be translated into justice because the synonym for "just" is fair, or impartial, just like justice is supposed to be. Hope that clears up my reasoning!

   Chrios: Thanks for the correct name, and I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter!

   Darklight: Yep (LOL), poor Sev.

   Cow as White as Milk: First off, can I just say that you have one of the most original pennames that I have ever seen? Very cool. Glad you enjoyed the chapter, and thanks for the review!

   Jason Barnett: Yes, you're right, a prison's still a prison, and don't think for one moment that Willow has forgotten that. She is, in fact, still dangerously depressed but is fighting it as best she can. You will see examples of this in later chapters. Maybe I could also squeeze in a visit from the Daily Prophet, but you have to remember that the Ministry is trying to keep Willow's presence (and her crime) as secret as possible. Lastly, I'm not sure whether or not I agree with you on the "a life for a life", but I'm glad that you understand why I decided to play up the "justice" aspect of Hufflepuff. Thanks for the review!

   Hey, everybody… heh, heh. Ahem. Nervous gulp All right, all right, I admit it. This chapter took a little while to post (now there's an understatement) and I did sort of leave you all hanging when I wrote that I was going to try harder to have speedier updates. But I did try harder! You just won't believe what's happened! I've had my computer shut down and then (weeks later) given an extra hard drive that didn't fix the problem we shut it down for; I was grounded from the computer because I was on the Internet too long (Okay, maybe that one was my fault… a little); and I had writer's block all last month. I understand as well as you probably do that these are all excuses of one type or another, but they're the truth, and the only one I have. I apologize, deeply and truly I do, and I'll just have to hope you don't abandon my story because of it. Thanks, and I hope to talk to you soon.

   Tootles!