Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
A/N: sorry I haven't updated in a while, I have my reasons. Everything has now been through my beta and should be betta. Haha, sorry. Anyway.
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The air had that dry taste to it that only a winter too strong to be overcome by an early spring brings. February had slowly faded into March and the snow still blanketed the grounds. The lake Rosaline sat beside was deceptively calm, though no ice had formed across its surface. She reveled in the snowy landscape that surrounded her. It hardly ever snowed where she used to live; it had surprised her at first to see so much of it. Sitting on a bench with Professor Hooch, both wrapped in their wool cloaks sipping hot tea, she told the flying instructor of some of her best flying mishaps. "Mother almost killed me the time I tried to dive off my broom once. Of course she didn't know, that I had enchanted it to swoop under me before I hit the ground," their laughter rang in the still air. They were distracted momentarily by a sudden rush of students pouring out of the main doorway of Hogwarts having been dismissed from lunch.
"Well, dear, I can't understand how your mother survived you." Said Madame Hooch between fits of laughter. "But really dear, we should go flying sometime. I've noticed, I haven't really seen you at any of the Quidditch matches. You do enjoy Quidditch, do you?"
"Oh, no, I love to watch, I've just been sitting with the students. They are so much more exuberant about it, than most of the teachers. No offense, but the children are so enjoyable to watch." Rosaline said and then added thoughtfully, "I think, I actually watch them more than the match." She smiled at her companion and shrugged. "I suppose, you think that's a bit odd."
"Why should I? You're a teacher, aren't you? Of course, you should enjoy watching the children have a good time. That's what makes you a good teacher, caring about the students." Professor Hooch said very seriously, however this heart to heart was cut short when a snow ball hit Rosaline on the shoulder. Her head whipped toward the origination of the offending ball, surprise and shock showing clearly on the faces of both women.
"Sorry Professor Gates!" shouted George Weasley while his brother Fred tried to stifle his own laugher.
"You shouldn't let them get away with that kind of behavior; those two are nothing but trouble." Said Hooch, in her sternest tone. Facing the woman next to her, she was taken aback by the mischievous look in Rosaline Gate's eyes. It matched every bit the looks the Weasley twins sported on a regular basis.
"Oh no, they won't get away with it. And don't look at me like that. As a matter of fact, Madame Hooch when was the last time you had a really good snow ball fight." The look on Hooch's face was priceless. "Come on," Rosaline said standing and holding out her hand to assist Hooch in standing.
Hesitantly, Hooch stood and heard the voices of the students playing around the grounds. She straightened her back, rising to her full height, though she was still a good bit shorter than Rosaline. She smiled slowly, "Alright, but only because I think, we can take them with out magic." Her eyes twinkled as she and Rosaline strode toward the students. Rosaline stopped to scoop up some snow and started to pack it into a ball.
The Weasley twins were busy plotting their next attack when Rosaline called in her harshest tone, "GEORGE WEASLEY!" He turned, thinking he was about to get one ripper of a lecture, when a large snow ball hit him squarely in the chest.
After supper, Rosaline sat at her worn cherry desk, looking over the assignments the students had turned in. The sketches they all had to do of shrivel figs where for the most part fairly good. She quickly moved on to the upper classmen's' work, a rather long essay about growing conditions and care instructions of several members of the geranium family. 'That's odd' she thought to herself, lightly tracing some blue veins that one of the students had drawn on to the fanged geranium. Making a mental note to check with that particular student about the singularity she put the papers aside just as a rather plump shadow fell across her door.
"Come on in, Pomona" Rosaline called as she stood up from her desk, stretching her arms above her head and arching her back. A rather miffed looking Sprout entered the room, fidgeting and making little worried noises as she paced the small office. Growing worried now herself Rosaline stepped around her desk "Pomona, please sit down and tell me what's going on before you make me dizzy." She motioned to the old burgundy chair that sat opposite the worn desk.
"Oh, I just hate to bother you with this. I know, it won't make you happy, that's for certain. It's just this infuriating woman!" Professor Sprout exclaimed throwing down an until now unnoticed letter she had in her hand.
"Okay," Rosaline said cautiously, bending over to pick the crumpled letter off the floor. Before opening the offending note she turned back to Professor Sprout and motioned toward a small cabinet, "Would you like something to drink? You kinda look like you could use one."
"Dear, I would love a glass" Said Sprout before plopping down in the high backed leather chair. "What have you got?"
"All I have right now is fire whiskey." Rosaline started over to the cabinet when she saw Pomona's surprised look. "I just keep it around for Snape, I don't drink it myself." The look of surprise was replaced with one of speculation. "Look, do you want it or not? I'll be more than happy to keep whatever you normally drink in here too. But for now its fire whiskey or water." She wagged the once again forgotten letter at Sprout.
"A small glass then." The speculative look had left her expression and was now replaced by one of annoyance. "Look at that damn letter, then." She said, pointing a stubby finger at Rosaline's right hand where the letter currently resided. "Just get me that drink before you do. You might want to fix yourself one too. That woman would make anyone a drinker."
After pouring Sprout and herself a drink, she sat back at her desk and opened the letter. Right away, she saw it was written in a small, sharp style. It was dated with today's date of May 3rd and was really quite long. Rosaline read over it and than read it again. "Surely not" she said mostly to herself but Sprout heard her. Looking up from the parchment, cheek flushed and eyes flashing Rosaline asked "Does she send Neville letters like this?" At the nod of Pomona's head, Rosaline crushed the letter between her hands. "How dare she! He's earned his good marks in my class. How dare she imply, that I am to lenient and he too thick to have gotten those grades honestly. Good Lord!" she shouted, pushing her seat back from the desk and standing up quickly. She went over to the cabinet, where she had left the fire whiskey she had poured herself and eyed it warily.
Quickly she thrust it at Pomona, "You better drink this before I do." Sprout took the offered drink and downed it quickly. "I want a meeting with her, Pomona. I want one soon. If she treats him like that it's abuse. That kind of treatment will NOT be tolerated. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go for a walk before dinner other wise I'll be snapping at everyone who looks at me." She grabbed her cloak and opened her office door, but before stepping out she looked back at Pomona "Thank you for bringing this to my attention." Then she added, as it had just occurred to her, "I suppose you've already spoken with Dumbledore?" Sprout nodded, indicating that she had. "What did he say about it?"
"He wanted to see how you would deal with it." She shrugged, the burning of her temper having been replaced by the burning of the fire whisky in her belly.
"A test then," Rosaline said thoughtfully to herself before she turned and left the room closing the door behind her.
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Three days later found Mrs. Longbottom screaming at Professor Gates in greenhouse three in front of a class of students.
"As I have already told you, our appointment will take place after I dismiss this class." She looked over to poor Neville who was pale and horror struck. "I don't have time for this nonsense. I needn't be wasting my time with some young upstart who fancies herself a teacher." Mrs. Longbottom said angrily poking Rosaline in the chest. Neither adult noticed that greenhouse three had gained an audience consisting of staff members and students who had heard of the impending meeting. Rosaline could have handled this kind of treatment under different circumstances, but this woman was interrupting her class and embarrassing the hell out of her grandson. Ignoring the worried sounds of her students and other onlookers, Rosaline slapped the old woman's finger away from her chest. Vaguely she heard the voices of Flitwick and Sinestra trying to disperse the crowd. "Gran, Please…" Neville pleaded, his voice sounding small. He had come to stand behind his grandmother. He tried to take her by the arm in hopes that he could guide her out of the greenhouse.
"Don't you 'Gran, please' me boy. If you'd half the talent of your father, I wouldn't even have to be here!"
"Get out." Rosaline said with a cold, steady voice. She stepped forward, crowding Mrs. Longbottom. Even with the ridiculous vulture hat that Mrs., Longbottom sported, Rosaline towered over her. "What? Don't speak to me that way girl." The older woman said turning back to face Rosaline, the indignant rage she felt showing clearly on her face.
And for the first time the students heard their friendly Professor Gates raise her voice in anger and it terrified them all. "GET OUT!" Rage emanated off of her in waves almost visibly. It wasn't the tone though that made Mrs. Longbottom retreat, there was something about the way Professor Gates eyes darken, albeit only marginally, but there was a fury behind those eyes waiting to be released. . "I'll wait in your office then." She said stiffly and turned leaving behind her an absolutely livid Rosaline. With one quick glance at his teacher, Neville hurried after his grandmother.
Still standing were she had been arguing with Mrs. Longbottom and with out turning around Rosaline addressed the class "Your dismissed, 20 centimeters on five deadly muggle plants due tomorrow." She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying hard to fight off the angry fever that was over taking her. She would have to calm down and soon. With out a second glance at her students or the onlookers Rosaline proceeded past everyone out the main doorway to the greenhouse by her office where her private garden grew. The moment she entered it, she saw, that Dumbledore was waiting on her. "My dear, I believe you are looking for this," he said holding out a small deep green plant with the root mass still attached, but already cleaned. "I really don't think, it's a good idea to have this growing out with the other plants, it would be quite a mess if a student got a hold of this. Quite a mess indeed." He looked over his half moon glasses as she took she tender plant from him. "Only if they knew what it was and how to harvest it," replied Rosaline with out looking up, she turned the plant and played with it's leaves. She then started for her office motioning for him to follow. When she heard the raised voices of Neville and his grandmother through the door, she stopped abrupt. "Damn, all my single dose are in there." She turned to look worried at Albus, "I can't very well take this in front of them," she sighed, but then as an answer Dumbledore simply smiled and pulled a small vile with a lemon drop stuck to the side of it from out of one of his pockets.
Taking the orange liquid from him she asked, "Where did you get this? You can't have had time to brew it up yourself." While waiting for his answer she walked over to a window ceil and set down the vile and plant. After uncorking it she stepped back and nodded at Dumbledore, indicating that she still hadn't been answered. "I had Professor Snape produce it for me." He watched as she almost dropped her wand as she was pulling it out of her sleeve. "I didn't tell him who it was for, though he was quite curious to know. "Thank you," she said quietly, although she had a slightly sour look on her face. Then pointing her wand at the plant she said "permolo," and with a flick of the wrist the tender plant disintegrated into a fine powder and then under Rosaline direction made it's way into the orange potion. She picked the vile up and swirled the liquid a bit before she blew some of the newly rising fumes off of it. "Navitas generasco," she said slowly, making sure to speak clearly, but quietly incase anyone might over hear her. As it was no one was coming anywhere close to her office. The potion began to take on an iridescent sheen and she eyed it sadly. "This stuff tastes worse every time I take it," she quipped. Dumbledore smiled a half smile, though without his usual twinkle.
Tipping her head back Rosaline drank the potion in one quick gulp, grimacing immediately. "Are you coming in?" she asked Dumbledore after a moment, nodding toward her office door across the hallway.
"No, I think, I'll gather up Mr. Longbottom and have a talk with him." And with that he moved toward the door in question and opened it.
In side Mrs. Longbottom was seated in the old burgundy chair where Mrs. Sprout just had a seat a few days ago, arms crossed and face austere. Neville stood beside the chair, his own face ragged with fear and shame. "Mr. Longbottom, if you would be so kind as to accompany me to my office. I would like to discuss somethings with you," Dumbledore said in his kindest tone. Neville looked at his grandmother, who refused to meet his gaze and then left with the headmaster.
Rosaline stepped around Dumbledore and made her way to her desk ignoring the older lady as well as the two retreating persons. After sitting down she finally looked at Mrs. Longbottom. All of the calmness that she had collected since dismissing her class vanished fast but continually. At least now she could feel the potion quench the internal fire that her anger ignited.
"I'm going to tell you a few things Mrs. Longbottom and I want you to listen. Really listen. First I would like to say, that while Neville is not the brightest among his class, he is far from the dimmest. If anything it is his lack of confidence that impedes him, not his intelligence. Secondly, he has earned each and every grade he has gotten. I am not an easy teacher. My students have homework every night, practical knowledge assessments twice a week, and lecture daily that they are tested on each week. I do not take kindly to your implication that I am a substandard teacher. My age may not be within the traditional bounds expected of the staff here at Hogwarts, but I have had extensive training and prior experience." Rosaline took a deep breath and tried to gage Mrs. Longbottom's reaction. The indignant anger slowly faded from the older woman's expression. "The last thing I would like to say to you is that if you continue to treat your grandson in such a demeaning manner, you will greatly regret it. I did not like that comment you made to him about him not being as good as his father. He is no more his father, than I am mine. Nor you yours. It is wrong of you to ask him to be anymore than who he is. And what he is, Mrs. Longbottom, is a good a decent young man." Rosaline sat back in her chair, hands on her arm rest, waiting for a response. The one that she got was not the one she expected.
Mrs. Longbottom shot out of her seat and ripped her hat off of her head waving it at Rosaline. "Don't you dare sit there and tell me how to raise my grandson! How is he supposed to make it in our world I don't push him to do what I feel he can do?" Taking a step toward the desk, she placed both hands on her hips, her hat effectively crushed. "You don't even know what I have done for my boy, what I have given up. What I have LOST! I'll not loose him too." The last part came out almost a whisper. Rosaline sat quietly for a while, watching Mrs. Longbottom. When the older woman had finally finished her tirade, Rosaline leaned forward, propping her elbows on the desk and resting her chin on her gathered hands. "The fact still stands, I'm afraid, that raising a child is not about you. Professor Sprout has informed me of the circumstances surrounding your guardianship." Silent now Mrs. Longbottom sat down in the leather chair. Rosaline continued, "Here at Hogwarts we do our best to prepare our students for as many eventualities as we possibly can." She sighed heavily, sitting back in her chair once again. "He's a smart boy, Mrs. Longbottom. And he shows a fair amount of potential. Most importantly though is that he is a good boy and has made many good friends."
Silent tears began to spill down the woman's face. "He is a good boy." Her voice was strained, her mouth tight. She then put her head in her hands and began to weep openly. Rosaline didn't know what she should do. She was still furious with the woman, but now felt oddly sorry for her.
"I'm sorry Mrs. Longbottom that things had to come to this." She stood up and walked around her desk. Rosaline patted Neville's grandmother outwardly on the shoulder, while the woman continued to weep. The stress of the situation was hard for Rosaline to handle and she found it best to give both some time to get themselves under control. "You can stay in here as long as you wish. I'll let Neville know where you are. Madame Pomfrey can recommend a family counselor for you, I suggest you check in to seeing one or at least have an honest talk with your grandson." Saying that she left her office and started across the small courtyard that connected her division with the rest of Hogwarts and entered the main building via a side door. She continued down several corridors not paying attention to where she was going, just so long as it was away from the crying woman. She felt uneasy just leaving the woman there, but she really needed to get away. This on top of the attacks on the children and the never ending work load was really starting to take it's toll on her.
For a moment she thought about going back to her rooms, but decided against it. There was just more work that needed to be graded there. The whole ordeal left her stressed and drained. She really just needed some place quite to rest for a bit. An hour or so would do wonders right now, just sit down and let her thoughts wander. She looked around and found herself fairly close to the astronomy tower. That would have to do for now. At least no one would be up there this time of day.
Two nights later found Rosaline in Hagrid's house. It was going to be another very stressful evening. Rosaline had planned on a pleasant evening with Hagrid, hopefully discussing the forbidden forest. She had hopes of venturing into the woods once the weather warmed up a bit more. She arrived, however, just on the heels of Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge. Needless to say she was furious when she found out what their business there was.
"No! You can't do this!" Absolutely livid Rosaline screamed at the round minister. "He's not done anything. You've no probable cause."
"Miss, I am sorry, but I do have to do something. Hagrid does have a history." Cornelius Fudge said trying to sound unconcerned with her outburst. She turned quickly, "You're not really going to let them do this, are you, Albus?"
"I would just like to let it be known, that Hagrid has my full confidence." The man in question told Fudge. They all turned when a rather arrogant looking blond man walked in to the ramshackle house.
"What're you doing' here? Get out of my house!"
The man made it painfully obvious, that he didn't feel that Hagrid's home should even be considered habitable. The man in question went around Hagrid's living space pocking with a walking stick in the carpet sneering the whole while however, when he finally came to the point of his visit, Rosaline had to fight herself tooth and nail to control herself. "Perhaps you should retire to your rooms for the evening." Dumbledore said calmly to her. "I really think it would be for the best."
Fuming and fighting back tears, Rosaline returned to the castle. She tried to take corridors that would by pass most of the students. There was no reason to upset them or worse to raise rumours about her behavior. As she turned down the hall that contained her apartments she saw someone leaning on the wall beside her door. It was unfortunate, that she had grown so accustomed to his company, that he no longer took pains to be on her best behavior. Unfortunate because he was an easy target. "Where the hell where you?" She shouted at him.
This of course took him by surprise, though he did not show it. "What ever you want, I'm not in the mood." She made to open her door when Snape blocked her.
"What is your problem?" He sounded like he was chiding one of his students. Now, that he was so close he could see how flush her face was and even as he watched, he could she hot tears run down her cheeks. He raised his hand, and more gently than she would have ever thought possible, took her chin and turned her face so that she had to look at him. His actions unnerved them both.
Blood shot/ eyes met his own, "You don't know?" she said quietly. He just looked at her, wondering what response would set her off to yelling again. Severus stood silently for a moment, but instead of waiting to hear what he had to say, Rosaline opened her chamber doors just wide enough to squeeze inside and then slammed the door in his face.
'Perhaps Dumbledore will know what in the name of hell is going on.' He thought to himself as he turned to make his way down the corridors to the headmaster's office. He didn't make it more than a few steps away from Rosaline's chambers, when he heard her door open. He debated momentarily between continuing on to Dumbledore's office and waiting to see what Miss Gates wanted. Deciding on the latter he paused and looked back over his shoulder as he heard Rosaline. "Professor," she called coming to stand in the hall.
"Listen, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you," she admitted, pressing the heel of her hand against her forehead as if fighting back a headache. "It's no excuse, but it's been a really stressful week and tonight has been a bit too much for me." She took a step back so that she could lean into the wall.
"You are correct in you estimation that it is no excuse for such infantile behavior." Snape snapped has he turned to face her´, though he made no move to get any closer. "Now, if you've your wits about, perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me, why it was, that you attempted to verbally decapitate me." Gathering the edges of his cloak in his fingers he crossed his arms giving a rather bat like appearance.
"Well, to sum it all up," she replied wearily, "this Cornelius Fudge or something has arrested Hagrid for the attacks on the children and then a Mister Malfies?...Or was it Malfoy? I didn't pay too much attention, whatever, he has convinced the board of governors to suspend Dumbledore." She looked at Snape now and he saw, that her face had drained of most of it's color.
"It seems, I may need to locate Mr. Malfoy and see what it is he's playing at." says Snape and seeing her slightly confused expression continues, "He is a 'friend' of mine and I use the term loosely."