Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Right? Good? Ok! The song is from the movie Anastasia and of which I also don't own.Words and Music are By Lynn Ahrens and Stephen Flaherty

A/N: Okay, I realize that the last chapter was really, well, bad, I'm sorry. I know Ros came off kinda daft. I'm new at this, remember? Please review, it takes like 10 seconds and I'm very unsure of my work. Please, help an anxious lady out.

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'Bored….bored, bored, bored.' Rosaline silently chanted this to herself as she lay in an empty flower bed in green house three crumbly black soil beneath her, tossing a remembrall in the air. Inhaling deeply she savors the earthly smell that envelops her. A grouping of small white bell flowers gently chime, disturbed only by her movements. Above her, beyond the glass roof, the sky is once again covered in clouds, casting a muted light about the garden surrounding her. The occasional owl flies overhead, a darker spot against the gray. The past few weeks had been completely uneventful and she slowly began to think of Hogwarts as her home for the nearer future Her classes kept her occupied, but not too busy and the students all seems to take her presence there well. Even if Herbology wasn't such a popular topic as Charms or Divination, most liked it more than the rather complicated Potions or Transfiguration classes. Seeing that it was Sunday afternoon now, most of the seasonal work was done for the week, the spindle trees were trimmed, and the madder plants grew formidable and would provide a strong pigment, when they could be harvested next month. Actually the mandrakes had all been repotted with out incident two days ago. The only real action she had seen in the past two weeks was when she tended the whomping willow.' That', she reflected, 'had been a fun night.'

As per usual on the evening of the first of September, the children had all been sorted into their houses in a short ceremony. Right now, the welcome feast was afoot/ under way, Food stretched across every table and laughter could be heard all over the Great Hall. Eyeing it hungrily Rosaline wondered how long it would take her to get used to English food. Passing up a bowl of treacle pudding she tried to decide how to go about bribing the house elves into making some decent biscuits and gravy.

Speaking of house elves, there was one now trying to get the headmaster's attention. Standing next to his seat, it waited for a break in it's conversation with Professor Hooch. She was seated too far away to hear whatever message the bat eared creature had to convey. Risking a glance at here new co-workers, Rosaline watched their reactions. Two weeks in residence and she still hadn't said more than three words to any of them. Even less to most, she was sure. It wasn't that she was unfriendly; it just took her a while to warm up to others and find her place among them. Better to watch and listen for a while.

She was still uncertain what hat caused her out of ordinary behavior, but her familiarity and her nervousness were on top of the list. Lords, she had been so nervous. That didn't stop her from wanting to crawl in a hole after behaving like that. And what ever prompted her to send her resume via faux-fish anyway.

Her train of thought was derailed though, as her stomach growled loudly and painfully. She needed to find some decent food soon. Finally a plate of baked ham made its way close enough for Rosaline to spear a few good sized pieces. Nabbing a few warm rolls out of the punnet next to the Cornish Pasty, she began to assemble some small sandwiches, dabbing each with a little grape jelly that had appeared. Her hands shook, as she was about to take her first bite of the first edible thing she'd seen all meal, when a great elbow nudged her side.

"Hmm, what is it, Hagrid?" startled she quickly took a bite, trying to wash it down quickly with the pumpkin juice. Hagrid, who had been eating heartily since the meal began, nodded toward the center arranged tables, "Dumbledore's trin' ta get yer 'ttention."

"whmf? Ohm, ka," she tried to down the rest of the sandwich before looking over at the Headmaster, who motioned for her to follow. Glancing around to be sure no one was watching, she pocketed a few more of her makeshift sandwiches before she joined Dumbledore on his way towards the door. Maybe she would get to eat them later.

Outside the Great Hall she and Dumbledore made their way down the corridors, that lead to the outer areas of the huge castle. She remained silent most of the way, following a few steps behind, trying desperately to finish her meal and realizing too late that she should have grabbed her drink. Finally, with her stomach raging in a slightly less painful way, she paid attention on the way and noticed, that they were on their way down to the dungeon offices.

"It seems Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley have made their appearance." Dumbledore said glancing at her over his half moon glasses. Before she could ask anything though, she and Albus were joined by the normally jovial Ms. Sprout and the severe looking McGonagall. Tonight however, both looked quite upset. "Oh, good, Rosaline, come with me dear, I'd like your opinion. You've had some training concerning Whomping Willows, haven't you?" Professor Sprout was almost frantic.

"What on earth? Oh, well of course, will you excuse me head master?" Hoping that nothing serious had happened and still surprised about the behaviour of her colleague, Rosaline left with Sprout for the grounds, while Dumbledore and McGonagall continued their way down to the dungeons.

She snorted, when she thought back at the turbulent start of term. 'Of course, the silly old tree hadn't been hurt badly. A bit bruised and upset though.' All in all, Sprout, she and (god help her) Lockhart had bandaged up the old tree in less than an hour. In the end she sang a bit to the tree to soothe it, after shooing away her associates Some people would have found that silly. Well, with most plants it would have been. But here, we were talking about a tree with enough sentience to attack things and get upset. Yes, some people would find her methods highly strange. Snape for instance continued to mock her repeatedly for 'serenading a shrub'. She would just smile shyly at him, when he did this. It seemed that it unnerved him more than rising to his taunts.

Still tossing the ball up into the air, Rosaline twisted her head around to look at all of her plants. From her position on the ground, she could see the roof above her, the iron rods and poles holding the construction with its lantern slides. Late autumn sunbeams shone through the white clouds and threw a warm light on the hanging baskets with ivy and the beds bog bilberry. Oh, how she loved it here. These greenhouses were so much larger than those she was working with back in America and once she convinced Professor Sprout to let her start reorganizing them they would be a wonder. At least this was her opinion, Ms. Sprout didn't see anything wrong with the way things were set up now, thank you very much. She'd work on that for sure. Slowly, as Sprout was still the only other teacher Rosaline was comfortable enough to talk with. She tried to make it up to the Great Hall for as many of the meals as she could, but she was almost always worn out from tending the gardens. It was usually more convenient to send a house elf for her meals. This should settle down soon now that she was caught up on the current changes she was making to the green houses. But right now she was bored! So, she went back to watching the frivolous ball turn red, when she caught it and back to clear, as she tossed it up. Over and over again, as the time flew by. It was quite hypnotic, the fading red ball against the white, gray sky flying up in the air only to return with a nearly translucent color.. 'I wonder what I've forgotten', she pondered. Rolling on to her side and she picked her wand up from the ground beside her. She pointed it at the small music box she had set on the walkway beside the empty bed she was currently occupying. With a casual flick of the wand, the box opened and began to play. She loved muggle music boxes, loved them so much in fact, that a whole wall in her room here at the school was devoted to holding them. Right now, the tune was from a cartoon muggle movie. The movie itself was all right, she supposed, but it was this tune that caught her. Hauntingly pretty. She began to hum along with the simple melody, singing a word or two here and there. Thinking back at the only known car accident, that involved a Whomping Willow, she wondered how the detentions had gone for those boys. She had tried to get Mr. Weasley out serving his with Filch, but it was no use. Snape had insisted that they be punished, but it wasn't like she had been going to serve him cocoa thus negating his punishment. Though she did indeed have a soft spot for all the Weasleys. She had been perhaps 10 when she met Arthur and Molly. They had only been married a decade and Ron had just been born. She remembered how kind they were to her, even after they found out how different she was. She would never forget that. Still there was plenty of hard work to be done in the greenhouses she really could have used the help

Outside of Professor Snape's office, Rosaline could hear the enraged Potions Master demanding harsher punishment for the boys. "…these boys have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused serious damage to an old and valuable tree – surely acts of this nature.." Cracking open the door and squeezing inside, Rosaline entered the office. Glancing around, she decided, that Snape seemed to have the same sort of thing for pickled dead things that she did for muggle music boxes. Every wall was full of shelves and every shelf was loaded with carefully labelled (British English) specimens. Among all kind of plants, animals and body parts were a few that too closely resembled human foetuses for her comfort.

Huddled together next to the adults, looking painfully pale, were the two accused boys. Clearing her throat to gain the attention of those gathered, she raised her voice "If I might interject," those gathered turned toward her, the boys looked hopeful, while Professor Snape looked far from please at her interruption. 'If looks could kill', she thought, 'Snape would now be a very happy man', "I've just looked over the willow, it's a bit bruised and upset. Nonetheless, I didn't see any evidence of permanent damage though."

Seeing her, the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes returned and he suggested to Snape, that they leave the boys in Minerva's care for now and return to the feast. The angry man himself couldn't be coaxed into going back, until one agreed, that the kind of punishment would be declared directly after the meal. 'Maybe the desert is out now', Rosaline thought hopefully. 'Please be chocolate cake!'

Emerging her reverie, Rosaline caught the ball for a last time and quickly pocketed it. Standing and performing a quick spell to get all of the dirt off of her clothes, she went over to her music box. Lying next to it was a small packet of seeds. Very delicate, very particular seeds. Carefully she picked the pack up and turned back to the now warm dirt in the bed, she herself had just been occupying. Donning some gloves and rolling up her sleeves, Rosaline knelt down and began to place each seed gently into the earth, humming all the while. The seeds were warm to the touch, each very like an embryo and her light brown colour with its black blotches silhouetted against the slots of darker earth, in which she placed them. These would be hard plants to raise and she knew that most of them wouldn't make it, but she needed them, and with luck, some would survive.

As she covered each kernel with soil she began to sing to them along with the soft melody coming from the music box.

Dancing bears
Painted wings
Things I almost remember
And a song someone sings
Once upon a December
Someone holds me safe and warm
Horses prance through a silver storm
Figures dancing gracefully
Across my memory

(Who is the author of the text/ music? You should mention them)

She was so occupied with what she was doing, that she didn't look up to see who had just entered the green house. She just assumed that it would be Professor Sprout as no one else really had any business in there on this time of day. Well, at least Pomona wouldn't ask too many questions about why she was planting that particular plant.

Someone holds me safe and warm
Horses prance through a silver storm
Figures dancing gracefully
Across my memory
Far away, long ago
Glowing dim as an ember
Things my heart used to know
Things it yearns to remember
And a song someone sings
Once upon a December

"First a tree, a now," came the cold voice behind her, "dirt." (soft? I think more a bit sarcastic or snide. Low or mute voice, perhaps a little cold undertone, that's Snape;)

Before responding, Rosaline finished covering the last few of the precious seeds without a hurry. Slowly Standing, with her back still to the snarky man (hah, no soft voice here!), she dispelled any soil, that was still clinging to her, while her gloves disappeared into her deep pockets. Forcing herself to smile, she turned to face Professor Snape.

Standing there, one eyebrow raised, he tried his best to be menacing. He did find it difficult to loom over Miss Gates, as she was tall for a woman, but he thought, that he displayed a good enough job to even out this marginal fact. Not to mention, he found her attempts to act pleased with the his emergence amusing. It was a rather pathetic reaction in his opinion.

"Professor," she said with as much friendliness, as she could muster trying to mask her annoyance at being interrupted, especially by so pleasant a guest, "what brings you here?" Tucking her thin wand up her left sleeve, she tilted her head and with a small smirk added "Run out of children to scare?" 'Now, where did that come from'.

Severus raised an eyebrow at her, but other wise made no move to repartee. "I have need of these items," he snapped, thrusting a roll of parchment at her. "Madame Sprout said that all of these plants are in stock. I expect them ready by the week's end."

'I bet you do, you quibbler.' Gingerly she took the roll from him and read over the list. Basic supplies, nothing more. However, "I can enhance some of these for you, if you'll tell me what potions they are for." She turned, still looking over the list, and walked toward her office.

"That, Miss Gates, is none of your concern." 'The nerve of this woman, he was a Master of Potions he certainly did not need the help of some glorified gardener.'

"Rosaline." It was out before she had even realized it.

"What?" 'did she detect the slightest lilt when he said that? Well, that was certainly interesting.'

"Call me Rosaline. I think we can afford to be a bit more familiar, don't you?" If she was going to start being friendly with her colleagues, why not start right here and now with Snape ?He may not be well known for his pleasantness, but she had met worse.

"I really don't think, that it will be necessary. You can send the items with a house elf, when you have them ready." He turned and started to leave but stopped at the door, when Rosaline tried to continue the conversation.

"Not many of the teachers come all the way out to the greenhouses, when they require some ingredients or plants. Well Lockhart does, but, well," she paused and let half a smile emerge. There must be a topic she could discuss with him, especially after making the decision, that it was time come out of her self-imposed isolation. "I just don't know how to say this respectfully. He's a bit of a git," she attempted a British accent only to fail miserable.

"Oh, then I should think the two of you would get on fine (too many "well") together," Snape said sounding highly condescending.

Hurriedly she blurted, "I read your book two years ago." She was grasping for straws now. 'It had to work, please let it work.' This did, however seem to pique his interest, as he stepped back in to her office. "If you want, I can send for some tea and we can discuss your theory about utility of common, fractionally magical garden plants. Because of my own experiences, I disagree with your dismissal of sorrel as a useless muggle plant."

Snape measured her with his looks while he thought about her attempts to engage him into a conversation. Given the place where he had to live right now, it had been sometime since he'd had a good debate with someone knowledgeable. Most of the town residents wouldn't even know a argument, if it stood right in front of them and none of his colleagues had an interest in Potions or Herbology, of course Professor Sprout excluded. But you could only argue with a person for so long until you reached the point, where you already could tell the requital before you even said your statement. Beside this, he was sure, that is would be quite enjoyable to make this know-it-all woman feel like a fool. 'Read his book did she', he was curious that she should have obtained a copy. He would have to pursue that train of thought later. Now, it was time to argue with what he had to admit was a not unattractive witch. No wonder Lockhart poked around the greenhouses so much.