A/N: Usual disclaimer applies, as this is certainly very far from JKR's dream for the series.

Right, anyway – we saw Tobias go to bed resigned last chapter, and will see him in glorious action the next morning – the morning of The First Day.

Chapter 2: The First Day

Tobias woke up suddenly, from dreams filled with vague threats and running, as he felt a sharp jolt in his side. Pain lanced through him again, jolting him properly awake. Panicking and reaching for his wand, he came face-to-face with the abnormal sight of a grinning Malfoy.

I don't believe it – he's here, he's found me –

"Momordi orbis!" Tobias found himself half-screaming, not even checking to see if his wand was in his hand – but, as the glowing golden circle expanded rapidly, the expression of pain on Malfoy's face looked far out of place from what he'd – couldn't be –

"Fucking hell – "

"Wha's going on?" Sleepy male teenage voices filled the air, and Tobias suddenly remembered, and, filled with even more sharp fear – I could have been expelled for killing you, you little – he seized the twitching arm-and-wand before him, hauling the stupid bastard through the dark hangings around his bed, trying to stop his shaking, vibrating wand from cutting into Draco's skin.

He couldn't believe he'd thought – that at Hogwarts –

"What the hell was that?" Tobias forced out, still trying to calm himself. His voice came out softer than he was used to, but it must've had some effect, as Draco's eyes widened a little, and he actually stammered out an answer –

"Just waking you up – just – just a joke – "

A joke. A joke, he says – what wouldn't I give to tear him open –

"It's done to everybody on their first morning – thought you would've known…" Thought I would've known, he says – if only I could –

Tobias cut off the thought, shoving Draco out, away – if he held him for one more minute, he didn't know what he'd do –

"What the hell was that for?" Draco was indignant now, rising quickly to his feet, and everyone in the dorm, now thoroughly awake, was looking, watching – "We were just trying to make sure you got up on time – "

"My punctuality is not your concern, Draco," Tobias said roughly, blearily shaking his head as he left the enclosed warmth of his bed and duvet, wand in hand. The time – need to know the time – "Accio clock!" – he stabbed it from the air – right, it's just 7:30 –

"We do it to everyone, Snape," a familiar voice said from two beds away. An equally bleary-looking, half-dressed Blaise Zabini was giving Tobias a calculating look, which, knowing he needed to get down to breakfast at some point, he easily ignored as he gathered the things he'd need. Thanking Merlin that he'd thought to put on a nightshirt at some point last night – no use in scaring everyone with his hideous scars so early in the scheme of things – Toby absently ferreted out his dressing gown, uniform and shower things, casting a rough charm on the bed so it would remake itself. At a twinge of rawness from his right arm, he blearily felt for his wand holster, removing it and strapping it under the baggy sleeve covering his left arm.

"You wear a wand holster – to bed?" Toby sought out the speaker – that was that stringy-looking boy who could see…thestrals, was it? The thin, dark boy was looking at him, waiting for – oh, shite, an answer –

"And here I thought we were living in dark times," Toby said, tone dripping with the appropriate amount of sarcasm. A movement from nearer by caught his eye – ah, the Ferret. The Fucking Ferret. Toby held tightly onto his composure, remembering what he was supposed to pull off this morning. It'd definitely be easier than he'd thought, what with that snarky little bastard jumping him in bed with a Stinging hex.

Hell, Toby thought, a tight smile forming on the inside, I'm definitely going to enjoy this.

"As I said, my punctuality's not your concern. Any of your concern," he went on, making sure to let his eyes seek them all out one by one – the key to threats is to act like you mean them. Right – "I'll thank you not to do that again – I don't take kindly to being woken up in that manner." Tobias started for the door, then paused strategically – he had to make this count – "In fact, I'll thank you not to touch me in the mornings. At all."

There – look at them, all watching him warily, as if he was about to strike. Tobias shrugged the thought off – his hand was sort of caressing his wand, but surely he didn't look all that –

Wait – well. By the look Theodore Nott just exchanged with a now fully-dressed Blaise Zabini, he was.

Oh breathe, will you, you puffed-up little arse – they'll test you yet, the rather Severus-like voice sounded irritatingly in his head, and Tobias almost laughed as he reached the door to the showers –

"And what if you're late?"

– and the urge to laugh turned to a bizarre need to observe a Malfoy being strangled to death far too fast for his taste. Toby turned deliberately, trying to keep his small smile steady. Just two words – "Leave me."

Making everyone watch their step round me in the mornings – check, he thought, satisfied, to himself, luxuriating shamelessly in the hot shower. Baths had been all very well in Snape Manor, but sometimes, a fellow wanted to wash his hair without nearly drowning himself, really.

And that was what Toby proceeded to do, Conjuring his familiar, odd Romanian bubbles, and indulging in the hot water for as long as he could safely do it.

He emerged feeling like a new man, and, on finding the dorm empty of its occupants, proceeded to dress as slowly as he liked, knowing he'd have to make up for his lateness at breakfast, which was seeming less and less of a horrifying trial and more like a very very good thing to be doing – no, eating, now. Tobias hurriedly dried his hair with a good blast of hot air from his wand, thinking he'd bind it up after he'd gotten some warm toast inside him.

Dear Christ, but Tobias hoped he wasn't lost. Hopefully, this turning would – oh thank Merlin, the stairs –

Tobias heaved his already irritated limbs up the twisted thing, ignoring the alternatively frightened and fascinated looks he got from everyone around him as he pushed his way through the dense crowd of nattering students to the half-empty Great Hall. Navigating the dungeons had only made him colder and hungrier, and he was in no real mood for anything but attacking – what was it today – eggs and sausages, with fervour.

Unfortunately, he had a job to do, and, judging by the way his uncle was glaring at him from the high table, he'd be in some serious trouble if he didn't start spreading the rumours immediately.

"And he was just like, 'leave me'," Theodore Nott's low, excited tone reached him, just as he passed him sitting beside an irritated looking sixth year girl – oh, he didn't know her name, that must mean she was the Davis girl, who Harry'd never spoken to –

"Speak of the devil," Draco said, nodding curtly to Crabbe so he shifted his heavy bulk down the bench just enough that Tobias could sit opposite an eager-looking Malfoy. Tobias slid into the seat between the still-sleepy Crabbe and the rather nervous-looking Nott with as much ease as he could manage, not even having to fake the look of boredom on his face. "Like I was saying, Tobias," Draco continued, much against Toby's will, "Is there anything else we ought to know – for our safety?" Crabbe and Goyle leered at him with identical, slightly sleepy grins and some of the other Slytherins nearby paused to look.

"I keep a snake in my bed, Malfoy," came the calm answer. Tobias began to pile food methodically onto his plate as he continued, ignoring the wary looks of shock his sixth year dorm-mates were now giving him - good. "Iona doesn't like being touched in the mornings either. Actually," he paused from buttering his toast to give Draco an even look. "I wouldn't touch her at all – very temperamental, still young – she'd probably bite even if I introduced you to her beforehand – "

"You keep a snake?" Pansy Parkinson interrupted, now fully vested in the conversation. Tobias looked round to see the eyes of half the table on him – erm, not so good –

"Well, yes, I keep a snake – obvious choice for me, really, a Black Vipertooth. I get along with most snakes – it's 'in our blood', so far as I know, really – and my uncle needed her venom for something. Before I knew what was happening, Iona was following me all over the place." Toby shrugged fluidly, hoping wildly that he was saying the right thing. "As young as she is, she's extremely venomous, and she kept biting people to get to me. I keep her more for the safety of others, if you know what I mean…" So stay the fuck out of my bed.

All the sixth years nodded, more out of amazement than anything else, even as Toby – oh, finally – began to attack his huge breakfast. Draco Malfoy was the first to recover. He stretched a hand out to Toby's plate in exaggerated admonishment.

"Not so fast – food's not running away…" Toby gave him what had rapidly become his favourite sneer – The Snape Amused. "Honestly, you're eating so fast – you might choke or something – " Tobias snorted, gulping down a piece of sausage. Draco twitched slightly, not escaping his notice.

"Put your wand away, Draco," Toby drawled, malicious amusement pooling in his chest. The blonde boy was so obviously going to try to hex him it was pathetic – "No? Wingardium leviosa – Accio wand – Stabilis." In three lazy flicks of his wand, which had appeared obligingly fast in his slim hand, Draco's sleek length of mahogany had soared up from under the table and was now hovering over Toby's head. As Draco's mouth opened up, soundless with surprise, Toby resumed eating, smirking for all he was worth. "Honestly, Draco – anyone ever tell you pointing your wand at people during breakfast was bad form? No? So much for that, then – "

"Tobias," a stern, silky tone came from behind Draco. Toby tried not to stiffen in apprehension as everyone within ten metres became silent as Professor Snape loomed over the sixth years. Severus had told him to be obnoxious, just not specified who to be obnoxious to. Naturally, to him, that had Draco's disgusting name all over it. He just hoped – "What on earth are you doing with Mr. Malfoy's wand?"

"Teaching Draco some etiquette, sir," came the equally silky and hopefully convincing reply. Severus smiled slightly, and Toby allowed himself a slightly smaller (and rather relieved) smirk, confusing the Slytherins as he continued his much-softened reprimand.

"I see…five points from Slytherin for absolute silliness at the start of the day." Tobias gave a subtle flick, and Draco's wand moved abruptly to hover over his head. He snatched it down, eyes narrowing at Toby, who gave him a calm look in return. "Your timetable, Tobias – see that you aren't late." And a crisp timetable appeared before Toby's rapidly emptying plate, even as Severus turned to leave. "Try not to inhale your meal, Tobias."

"Yes, sir."

Snape proceeded to stalk off towards the nearby Hufflepuff table, where he immediately deducted points from a hapless third year that got in his way. Toby, steeling himself for the next endeavour, languidly levitated the timetable in front of him, examining it as he ate.

"Odd, this timetable," he remarked, peering at Monday's lessons. "We seem to have the most important lessons with" his eyes narrowed, mind racing – I don't think I should be able to pronounce that – "Gryffin-ders – what's that about?" He paused to stab another piece of toast. "Are they all hideously smart or something?"

Severus hadn't had to tell him how to get the sixth year Slytherins going on this – that comment was practically too much for a self-respecting Slytherin to pass up –

"God, no," Pansy exclaimed immediately. "Absolute cretins, the lot of them." Draco perked up here – and from his significantly stronger aura of arrogance, this was evidently something he thought he was an authority on.

"Cretins is the word, Pansy," he began, shooting sneers toward the table on the opposite side of the Great Hall. "Sometimes I think the Weasel King gets more stupid every day – especially now their pal Potter's busy pushing up daisies somewhere," an evil grin appeared on his face as he continued, "Only thing better than seeing their faces after the news would've been standing there and watching stuck-up bastard catch it."

Red-hot rage flared deep inside Tobias, but somehow he managed to continue speaking over the snickering of most of the sixth years around him. He focused absently on the Davis girl – she was staring into space, picking at her plate –

Calm down, Toby – just get it out, you've got to do this –

"Really?" Tobias said, injecting as much boredom into his tone as was humanly able, despite the boiling anger within him. "The only death I understand was worth seeing that evening was that of that DADA teacher of yours, I think," he paused as most of the snickering faces turned to him. It wasn't so hard now – this was just maligning Veron, and he could do that any day – "I heard someone opened up all his veins, somehow." He paused again, letting the information sink in, even as his inner anger slowly gave way to grim satisfaction as the grisly scene came to mind. "Must've been quite a sight…I wonder how you do something like that, you know…"

I know, the vicious, murderous part of him said. I could show you, Draco – run a little test on you –

"Veron's not dead," Draco was saying slowly.

"Yeah, he's on extended leave or something," Blaise Zabini added, avid curiosity on his face. Toby snorted, shoving aside the guilt that blossomed briefly in him at the sheer amount of enjoyment he was beginning to get from this. Severus had commanded he spread rumours, and he would.

Especially for Veron –

"On leave – is that what they call it?" he said slowly, shrugging, an odd smirk rising involuntarily to his mouth. "They don't tell you much, do they?"

"Are you serious, Tobias?" Pansy faltered, reddening slightly. "Dumbledore would've told everyone, wouldn't he – that old Muggle-lover doesn't know anything about discretion – " Toby struggled not to say that the old Muggle-lover had purposely not informed the school, so Tobias could garner some influence bandying what was essentially the little-known truth about. He kept back a smile, wiping his mouth to disguise the twitching of his lips – Dumbledore could probably out-Slytherin the whole lot of these idiots at the table on a bad day. The man was positively –

"How do you know, anyway?" Draco added, turning an avid look on Toby as he wiped his mouth and began perusing his timetable again, this time as it lay on the table beside his plate.

Finally, the first important question.

"I'd say either Dumbledore knows more about discretion than you think – Pansy, is it…? Or he doesn't know…" He looked round at them. "How I know? Obviously, my uncle told me…he wasn't too upset about it, either…" Toby smirked again. "I think he was actually a little too pleased, if you know what I mean…Anyway, Veron's dead. Who's his replacement?" He knew very well who the new DADA teacher was, had known before almost anyone else, but this next part was important too –

"Your uncle, for about a week and a half," Blaise offered, looking pensive, "then that woman next to the half-giant at the table." Toby looked, truly curious. He'd heard most of the woman's history, and more than he cared to hear about her daughter's various bad points, all from Severus. And there – a slim, forbidding-looking woman with iron grey hair was chatting absently with a nervous-looking Hagrid. "Professor Vadim, or some other European – "

"Vadim?" Toby cut in, forcing himself to look excited. "Zaharia Vadim, by any chance…?"

"Something like that," Blaise finished, with a wary look. "You've heard of her?" Toby's eyes widened.

"Bloody hell," he said, purposely injecting his voice with a tone of awe – "– Zaharia Vadim – her mother, her mother's brother and father duelled Grindelwald once, and helped drive him out of Romania together – her mum's brother copped it, of course, but still," he gave the grim lady a respectful look, shaking his head. "A Vadim at Hogwarts – wonder what Dumbledore had to sell her to bring her here…"

"Her parents duelled Grindelwald?" Theodore Nott whistled, apparently forgetting his nerves. "No wonder she's so grim – probably cursed her into the bargain somehow. She's bloody strict – doesn't favour anyone at all, and she works everyone really hard." Theodore shrugged, a sneer coming to his face. "About time, really – Veron was a bloody joke, fawning all over Potter half the time and making him demonstrate everything the other half."

Oh, Theo, Toby said to himself, fighting to keep his eyes on the timetable, you don't know the half of it –

"If I didn't know better, I'd've said he had a bit of a thing for Potter, the stupid bastard – " Nearly everyone in hearing laughed out loud, indicating that this was a joke of Draco's that they all liked. Tobias joined in, not caring that his own laughter carried a sinister tone – they could make whatever the fuck they wanted of that, as long as he got to relive the images of Veron copping it as many times as he liked, the fat bastard.

"Really, Draco?" he managed to get out, lips twisting oddly. "How…how…" He knew his laughter was strange, because everyone else's had died down, and they were all looking at him. "How simply tragic," he finished, now tearing the last piece of toast on the platter beside him into squares.

It was over so damn quickly –

"What do you mean, tragic?" Zabini asked haltingly. Toby looked up from his breakfast – this was better than easy, it was like sucking your thumb blindfolded –

"Well," he offered with a sly smile, "it was Potter that did the bleeding for him – opened his veins, and whatnot." He shook his head, pocketing his timetable and pushing his chair back from the table. "Severu - Professor Snape, I should say – told me Golden Boy stood there and watched him bleed to death. Now, to be completely honest, how a paragon like him did it is practically beyond me – "

Not as beyond me as you thought, eh, Romulus –

"Imperius?" offered Nott from beside him, eyes wide, his smile now completely disappeared. Toby shrugged.

"Who knows," Tobias started to rise, glancing at the slightly uncomfortable black watch on his right wrist. "We've got Potions now, I think…" The rest of the Slytherin sixth years numbly followed suit, a dumbfounded Draco Malfoy leading the way back into the dungeons. Toby, well settled into his spiel now, continued to speculate thoughtfully on just how the whole gruesome event might've happened, laughing softly at one or two suggestions from Theodore Nott, who, surprisingly, hung back to walk beside him. By the time they'd reached Snape's classroom, he and Theodore lagged behind, chuckling at a joke 'Theo' had just made.

Toby hoped he looked relaxed. In truth, he was anything but, and just hoped he would be able to keep his mouth shut – Severus had always said he had a tendency to talk himself out of a good lie. So though Blaise Zabini, perhaps seeing that Theodore was still unharmed by the strange new Slytherin (Toby couldn't help chuckling a little ruefully at that – if only they knew), manoeuvred his way to the other side of Tobias' lanky frame, his first contribution to the conversation unfortunately being a healthily embellished description of 'Paragon Potter' and his Potions accidents. For a few moments, it was all Toby could do to keep still and keep his face interested – he hadn't come this far to flub it all because he couldn't take an insult or thirty-six, after all – but soon he found himself laughing at the outrageous manner Blaise described them.

For one thing, that Harry Potter sounded like a whole new, different person, viewed from the eyes of the slightly bitter Blaise and Theo – complete with foolishly clingy (and mostly brainless-seeming) friends and no concept of how to keep mum. Tobias could not help cringing half in anger and half in sympathy for this caricature of his old self, and the laughter came easier than he'd have thought it would.

Consequently, the Gryffindors already present at the dungeon door stared as Toby laughed hard along with the two mischievous, definitely spiteful boys, and felt oddly shielded from Ron's shuttered look of infinite prejudice and Hermione's assessing, judging glance. Thank Merlin – I don't think this'll be as hard as I thought, now…

The tension as the two groups of students entered the dank classroom was almost palpable, but Toby made sure it had no visible effect on him as he forced himself to look round at the class and wonder half-aloud why everyone was so silent. It produced a few titters from the Slytherin side of the dungeon, and glares from most of the Gryffindors. Thinking he might as well push his luck, he finally got himself to nudge Theodore and ask gamely for the names of the other 'unknown' students in the class, who were still glaring at him. He wasn't surprised when Draco Malfoy sniffed and sneered aloud at Ron and Hermione's names, saying that they were "Golden Boy's old lackeys", but was surprised when he added nothing more, choosing instead to eye them with a look of intense curiosity, thankfully unaware of Toby's sharp green eyes on the back of his head.

Probably wondering if they know, the Severus-like voice mused in his thoughts. Toby really, really hoped so, because it would mean that The Plan, as he chose to call it, was well underway.

So, as Professor Snape swooped into the classroom and shut the door with a bang, Toby smiled carefully to himself, looking away from Malfoy's constantly swivelling head for most of the class, not missing the fact that his uncle noted it too.

The plan was underway.

"So, you're telling me you have to sit through two bloody hours of – of that – every Monday morning?" Toby was asking disgustedly, as the sleepy Slytherins shuffled out of Professor Binns' utterly boring class. He struggled not to yawn – the class had to have gotten worse since he'd left, he was sure of it. Theodore gave himself a stiff shake before answering slowly.

"Yeah – s'always like that – I don't bother takin' notes anymore – "

Tobias sneered, irritation buzzing at his insides, shooting a parting glance at the door of the classroom, which was still ajar – almost missing the interested glances Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones were giving him.

Somewhere inside, a part of him blanched. That was definitely not on just now – he didn't care how bloody tight his trousers were, or whatever the hell it was, the last thing he needed was someone asking him out, on top of The Plan and trying not to puke in Draco's presence. And trying to stay alive, on top of the whole fucking thing of not being with familiar faces –

"Stupid bastard could probably take the bloodiest year in the history of all England and make it sound like a string of tea parties," he said viciously, finally venting some of his inward turmoil. What right has that bastard Binns to throttle away one or two hours of my valuable time, anyway? Toby thought darkly, even as all the Slytherins around him seemed to snigger as one.

Draco gave him a sharp look, looking a bit miffed at not being the one to say the joke, but Toby honestly couldn't give a flying fuck. He badly needed something active to do, or he'd expire from boredom. "Well, we've got DADA next – should wake us up nicely – " Toby felt Theodore peer briefly over his shoulder at the timetable as he sighed and closed it quickly, hoping he'd not notice just how empty the bottom half of the timetable was –

"You're not doing Ancient Runes, Tobias?" Theodore interjected. "Why not – you look like you could handle it – " Toby shook his head, a rare smile twisting over his features. Right – another chance to feed the children things they want to know –

"Oh no – my adoptive uncle – "

"You've got two?" Zabini interjected. Tobias rolled his eyes briefly, continuing, feeling all too aware that most of the other sixth years clustered around him were listening as well.

"Yes, I have two uncles, Blaise – the one I'm talking about is not Sever – Professor Snape – bloody – I'll never get used to that – " He gave his head a vigorous shake, then continued again, inwardly berating himself for another mistake, thankful it was one that would go relatively unnoticed. "Well, my adoptive uncle, Cosmin Snape, once insisted I have a tutor for that. Put me off the subject for life, honestly – the witch that taught me had tits the size of a Quaffle, the voice of a weasel…" the Slytherins started to snicker in earnest, but not before Draco Malfoy could butt in to add his own opinion.

Oh for god's sake, does he ever shut up –

"That's the Weasel King's mother word for word, Tobias – you sure it wasn't her?" A nearby Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass, a wispy, haughty-looking blonde, giggled extra heartily at that. Toby, heart burning, continued anyway, much as if he hadn't heard the slight at all.

Only what he deserves, being ignored –

"…and her handwriting was abysmal, too…it was all I could do to keep awake in the lessons…" he snorted, stuffing his timetable into one of the more hidden pockets sewn into his robes. "Much like History of Magic, to be honest. Which is definitely for the drop – I'd rather learn History of Magic from that fucking poltergeist…" Theodore and Blaise laughed as they turned the corner, coming face to face with the same group of Gryffindors, this time including Neville, Lavender, Seamus and Parvati. They entered the class hastily, only just ahead of the trio of Toby, Theodore and Blaise, who kept on chuckling as they entered the class. Ron shot them a glare, which only made Toby chuckle harder.

It wasn't so much the fact that his last silly statement had been wholeheartedly meant, but that he'd rather laugh than start shouting at him and Hermione, who were giving him cold looks. Or cry, even more embarrassing, though that was thankfully less likely –

"What's so funny?" Ron asked belligerently, narrowing his eyes at Toby as he sat down in a seat not far from him. Hermione sighed beside him, shifting into a chair at the same desk as usual, something Tobias had to stop looking at, just so he wouldn't be tempted to go over and –

"Simple, really," he said instead, sneering lightly, "the way you were staring at us – as if laughing in here was some sort of crime…" Making an effort to keep his face calm, Toby rolled his eyes, nudging away some of the thick, black hair that was starting to come out of his irritating ponytail over his shoulder. "Honestly, the lot of you act like you're at war in here or something – it's pathetic. And boring," he added, opening his school bag with a negligent flick of his wand, levitating a large, leather-bound book onto his desk as the classroom filled up with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.

Hope that wasn't pathetic – Ron should go for –

"War – pathetic?" Ron forced out, his blue eyes glinting with anger. He sat back in his chair, a shockingly cruel smile on his face. "I bet you've never even seen a duel, Snape."

Even though Toby knew he was supposed to do this, knew he was supposed to be on bad terms with his old friends, the snide insult still hurt, stupid as it was, especially when he thought of the last real duel he'd fought, his hand tightening on his wand –

The fact that his friends had ignored him for so long –

"How smart," Toby said quietly, feeling blood rushing to his face. "The – the little Gryffindor knows my name – catch me if I swoon, will you, Theo – and, even better," he added, his tone now filled with an easily familiar vicious quality, " – he thinks he knows all about war. Touching." The Slytherins snickered nastily as they watched Ron's face turned red with anger, ignoring the cold, dangerous undertone Tobias' voice had unwittingly (and perhaps unwisely) taken towards the end – all except for Theodore, who he saw exchange a discreet look with someone he couldn't see behind his back.

Then, before the situation could truly develop into something nasty, the tall, imposing Vadim woman from the Great Hall swept into the room and unhurriedly took a seat at the large desk in front of the room, effectually silencing the snickers as she called the roll in a heavy, measured Slavic accent.

"Good – good – all here – " the slim, severe book in which she had been marking down names disappeared, and she rose to stand before the desk. "Now – as I have been made to understand," her dark, slightly hooded eyes landed on Toby's frame, "there is a new student – nay – an apprentice, in our midst. Please introduce yourself to us, mister – " she paused to look at some invisible note in her hand "Mister Snape."

Tobias, still fuelled by the buried heat of his resentment against his friends, rose easily to his feet and did so defiantly, with the self-assured grace he could muster. Severus had implied this would happen at least once, that he'd be required to explain who he was and what he was doing to an entire class of his former classmates. And, knowing his uncle, the suggestion that he do it a certain, very cavalier way had come attached with the threat of Very Disagreeable Consequences if Severus heard something different had been done.

"Right. My name is Tobias Snape – oh, and it'll just be Tobias, thank you, as I wouldn't know who you were talking to if you just said 'Snape' – and I am the new apprentice to your Potions Master, Professor Snape." Toby paused for breath, eyes roaming the classroom defiantly, because he intended to make this very clear, regardless of whatever Severus wanted – "This does not mean I will become a potions master in his stead or succeed him in any way, of course; just that I'll be hanging around him and a few of the teachers, and trying hard to steal or borrow as many ideas and techniques I'll need in the real world once I'm done with my education." He made to sit down again, but hedged for a minute, knowing it would draw that much more attention if he further embellished his slightly insulting spiel. "Oh, and don't come to me with complaints about Severu –Professor Snape – because I can't, and won't help you there. I…think that's it, Ms. Vadim." He sat down, the woman's eyes boring into him as he did so, her face blank of anything save a restrained curiosity at his knowledge of her title without, seemingly, being told.

"You know my name." It was a statement, not a question, but Tobias answered it with a nod, and more.

"Daughter to Elenuta and Danila Vadim, of Romania…?" The woman smiled slowly, as if she was unused to the action. Tobias could feel most of the class staring at him – Hermione the most of all.

It pleased him, perversely, that he appeared to know more than her, just once in his entire fucking life –

"You say the name of my mother first. Why is that?" Right, don't screw this up –

"She convinced your father and her brother to fight, and immediately," Tobias explained, settling back in his chair, the action as easy as he could make it. "They did most of the fighting, of course, but without her, they would have been too late. Or, at least, that is how the story is told in Danislak, where I come from." The eyes of Ms. Vadim went unfocused for a moment, as if she was looking back to that very day – perfect.

"True…true. But that is a long story for another day. You will come to hear it sometime, no?" Tobias gave a slight nod, which seemed to please her. She leaned forward, her dark eyes boring uncomfortably into him. "How are…your shields, Mr. Snape?"

"I know the basic forms – Protego and its higher variants, for instance," Tobias began cautiously, finally feeling the stirrings of interest. "Then I know a few others – the Wall Charm, and –"

"The Wall Charm? Excellent – you will demonstrate today, Tobias. Up you come…" She waved her long, slender wand, and the large teacher's desk disappeared, leaving a smallish raised duelling platform in its place. Toby advanced on the platform apprehensively – he knew his bloody Wall Charm was up to standard, but against a Spellweaver, that could mean anything, or nothing. The stories of them that he'd found in the old Romanian books didn't help his niggling sense of worry any, either. "I cast simple spells first – warm you up – and then, when the bell sounds, you will need your Wall Charm, Mr. Snape." The woman drew herself up, wand pointed straight out at him. "I begin. Watch closely, everyone."

"Impedimenta!" Toby felt the surge of the Impediment Jinx hurtle toward him from the Professor, and side-stepped it, sending off a Jelly-Legs Jinx in reply, having to actually stop himself from using a more dangerous – "Expelliarmus!" – Christ this is boring –

"Batteo!" Easy on the flick, direct wrist motion, and – the tight low-grade, poorly focused Bludgeoning Curse hit the far wall of the classroom with a satisfying whump, and then Mrs. Vadim narrowed her eyes and began to fire off nastier jinxes and sparsely focused Bludgeoning Curses in return, and this was better, because he was actually forced to pay attention – all while using the flashiest jinxes he knew, for a show of strength –

Clang! The bell had just – wait, mind that Stinging –

"Stupefy!" He barely heard the Professor's low hissed addition to the hard Stinging Hex already winging his way, but dear Merlin the size of that thing – 'you will need your Wall Charm' indeed –

"Fingere Vallum!" Tobias ordered, trying hard to keep from darting out of the way, as would be more prudent and far less tiring, because this was a demonstration. It told on him, and he dropped the shimmering golden wall faster, just so he could – "Stupefy!"

The teacher huffed, easily blocking his attack, and sent off two curses at him, one of them another Stunner, and the other a curse most of the class could evidently not recognise, but left Toby's stomach lurching unpleasantly in his torso – if that hit him –

"Fingere vallum! Fingere valli – " God, he hoped his plan didn't fuck him over – concentrate –

After raising three of the golden walls in quick succession, Toby darted round them so he could send back an almost invisible stream of arcing peach light towards Ms. Vadim, who blinked at the odd method of attack.

"Integumentum vis!" she cried, waving her wand in a much more graceful arc than Toby had ever seen Severus do, her concentration entirely on the arcing peach of the nearly harmless modified Jelly-Legs he'd sent her way.

Well, she didn't know that, did she?

"Stupefy!" Merlin that was beautiful to do – she'd barely even seen his Stunner streaking for her, and then the blue of the Shield of Power had faded and even from here he could see her eyes widening, and bloody hell that's far too fast to raise a –

He didn't even hear the incantation for the Wall Charm that almost cracked into place before her, but he definitely heard and saw the impact of his Stunner, which sent red sparks dancing off her Charm – that was good, he'd only ever gotten –

Clang! Clang!

And the duel was suddenly, eye-blinkingly over, and he was really starting to feel afraid of the tough old woman before him, who was panting slightly with exertion and – and grinning – and he'd sent off his strongest –

"Zat," she said, her Romanian accent coming far thicker due to stress, "waz a puhfect demonstration of ze Vall Charm, class. Take a seat, Tobias." Toby strained to walk nonchalantly back to his seat, only now noticing the incredulous stares of his classmates, something that he chose not to consider just now –

"Creo papyraceus flabellum," he got out, around the shortness of breath that had seized him, partly from fear and from the excitement of the duel. A small paper fan appeared obligingly in his hand – a tad more intricate than usual, Merlin knew why – and, as Professor Vadim approached him again, he forced himself to stand and repeat the incantation, handing it to her with a small inclination of the head. Only polite, and, from her sly grin and immediate use of her far more delicate fan, she was pleased by it. Tobias battled the urge to flop into his seat and sigh in relief – only thing worse than having to duel with this frightening old bat every day's being on her bad side –

"You all saw vat Tobias did towards ze end, no?" she said brightly, the expression on her face betraying someone that was definitely cut of the same cloth as his fa – uncle – addicted to this, no more, no less. "He tricked his opponent into letting her guard down with a false – vas it false, young man?" Tobias shook his head, taking up his small fan as he regained his seat once more.

"No, Ms. Vadim; it was a Jelly-Legs, only modified to look like a variant of the second variant of the Annelli viris curse." Wouldn't be proper not to say, would it, as much as he longed not to. One thing Severus had enjoyed drilling into him was the fact that he didn't protect his best ideas strategy-wise, and it was rather hard to give this one up to a class of people who might, and probably would use it against him.

Then again, if they didn't know what a real Annelli looked like –

"Brilliant," Ms. Vadim promptly surmised, cutting into Toby's slowly forming thoughts of gleeful relief. He inclined his head gracefully once more, shaking irritating tendrils of hair out of his eyes, a small smirk tugging remorselessly at his lips, trying not to hear the hushed giggle from nearby – from a girl, it sounded like – "Now, class – who can tell me what the Annelli viris curse does…?"

Shite and double shite. Tobias fought not to scowl. Another advantage gone…

"That," Theodore Nott's exhausted voice could be heard just outside the DADA classroom, "was brilliant." Toby smirked easily as he saw and half-heard the fervent nods and murmurings from the Slytherin sixth years around him – it had been so, in interesting ways. For one thing, Toby had had the absolute pleasure of seeing that Draco wasn't nearly as versed in everything as he was – score one point for the House of Snape, none for that of the stinking Malfoys – and had then had the further pleasure of testing the Annelli viris on him, the proper way.

After eliciting a splendid demonstration of the Annelli viris from Tobias, Zaharia Vadim, seemingly on a whim, paired the wary students up to try the curse out. On the slight, quivering question of Hermione about the ethics of practicing the near-restricted curse, Ms. Vadim had simply scoffed, sending needles of guilt-tinged satisfaction into Toby's heart.

"Restriction – pah! You students need to know these curses, now," the small, slow smile had appeared again. "Even if you cannot cast the curse, practicing it will help you with your Vall Charm – zey are similar to cast, and easier to cast if you sense you are in danger. Besides, it is traditional to use the Annelli to train you in the Charm. Tobias," she'd intoned, turning on him almost proudly. "How did you learn ze Wall Charm?" Toby had rather nervously tossed the ever-escaping dark hair out of his face, hoping he wouldn't overplay this.

"My uncle spelled me with the invisible variant of the Annelli viris until I got it right, Ms. Vadim," he said, making sure a touch of embarrassment was evident in his tone, as if he felt ashamed he hadn't gotten it right the first time. He'd learned to be ashamed very quickly, of course, but no one had to know that. Everyone in the classroom blanched – they'd just seen him severely warp and contort a very sturdy wooden chair with a few flicks of his wand, using the spell. Ms. Vadim, however, had smiled even wider.

"You see, class?" Most of them, blanching even further, did not. "Did he tell you vhy, Tobias?" That had been the relatively easier part, in his opinion, though it had been executed with no less thought.

"The curse makes you feel helpless, and it's one of the curses that can infiltrate the charm," he said, quietly. "Casting the Wall charm elicits a strong feeling of protection and strength, even when it's weak, and he made sure to tell me that. Eventually, my Wall charm was able to completely stop the effects of the curse." Their professor nodded slowly, turning back to her now thoroughly frightened class.

"Now, class," she said, gesturing to their desks. "Wands out – books away. We shall try this, yes." She looked excited, as had Tobias, when he remembered that she'd have them really practice it at the end of class, and, since Draco carried himself as the undisputed king of the class, he might end up having a go at the blonde's overly handsome pointed fucking face with the sheer destructive power of the Annelli. Which was really, really quite all right by him. "First, we shall perfect our Annelli, and zen, we shall stop it with the Wall Charm." And, Vanishing the desks, she continued. "Two people to a chair," she'd said, thoughtfully, Vanishing the other half of them as soon as enough students had grudgingly risen from their seats.

The spell, of course, being exceedingly difficult, only Tobias and Draco could really cast it properly by the end of the class, and, leaving the rest of the huffing, puffing students (the spell was extremely draining) to catch their breath, Ms. Vadim beckoned the two boys forward. After asking Draco if he knew his Wall charm – "Yes, Professor Vadim," he'd replied, sullenly – she'd asked Tobias to spell him. After staring (insides singing with fierce satisfaction) at Draco for a few seconds, Tobias had raised his wand, incanting clearly in the silence.

"Annelli viris!" Draco's charm was up in an instant, but definitely not up to speed – the look on his face was strained, just like Toby knew his own had been every time the dreaded spell had been cast on him. He was nevertheless careful to cease the spell as Draco's wall collapsed, so it wouldn't look odd. Toby, relishing every word, had boredly informed Draco that his Charm needed strengthening, been given the dismissive go-ahead to use the Annelli at full power, and had 'grudgingly' obeyed.

In short, Toby had had a lot of fun.

"And zat is exactly what you must not do, Mr. Snape," Ms. Vadim said fiercely. "Put strength into your curse – it will strengthen him. Again!"

It was all Toby had been able to do not to burst into manic laughter as he felt the fear seeping off of Draco, the starkness of the realisation in his eyes when he sensed some of the amusement on Tobias' part.

Because he had sensed it – even now, he was scowling to himself, ignored by the other nattering sixth years that were asking Toby where he'd learnt to duel, and giving Tobias sly side looks every so often when he thought the dark teen wasn't looking.

Tobias, guiltily remembering that this was not how things were essentially supposed to play out from the get-go, sternly reminded himself that alienating Draco was to be left alone until at least a term into his stay, if the whole gigantic ruse worked for that long. It was with this in mind that he relented easily to the requests of his highly interested new peers, launching into a carefully edited version of what had really happened.

Severus had drilled that into him as well – that the use the truth, the half-truth and the quarter-of-a-millionth truth was most judicious, as it held up under Veritaserum the best, and slips of the tongue were defended far easier.

"My uncle – the one that took me in, mind – he trained me a lot. Wasn't a picnic – jinxes at breakfast, hexes at lunch, and so on: he left me to find the antidotes and counters on my own. He didn't like me much, as well, so it was pretty brutal. I've still got scars…" from exactly what and where, none of you have any right to know, least of all you, Draco. So you needn't scowl at me as if I'm just holding you up from going to lunch when you've got a perfectly unharmed will and legs of your own. "Seve – Professor Snape trained me as well. Stopped about a week before we got here, so I could heal in time for DADA, or so he said." Toby let his most handsome smile off, just for a moment. "That's it, really."

"Wow," Pansy breathed, to the fervent nods and shining eyes of the girls. Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini nodded as well. Draco sneered.

"So where are these scars of yours, then?" he asked, as mockingly as possible. Tobias smirked, not going for the bait.

"Nowhere I show to the public, some of them," he said easily, ignoring the sly look Pansy and Daphne shared, because – eurgh. Just eurgh – no way was any of these girls touching him in any relation to his – right. "But there's one here – " Time to unveil The Scar – he shuffled his bag onto his right shoulder, pulling up the sleeve of his robe in a fluid move, to reveal a jagged, raw scar that glared on the back of his upper arm and shoulder, one that he'd become familiar with. So it wasn't a surprise that none of the Slytherins gasped, but it was slightly startling that the sharp intakes of breath could be heard around him, as they also – shite, wasn't supposed to show that – noticed a faint crisscross of razor-thin lines that ran across the inside of his upper arm as well. Draco gulped slightly. Toby let fall his sleeve, ignoring the further looks of slightly morbid fascination the Slytherin girls gave him, cursing himself internally – you bloody idiot, no one was supposed to see the finer ones, they can work it out, they'll know, they'll find out – then swiftly checked his watch. "How long does lunch go on?"

"About an hour or so," Blaise offered, blinking hard. Tobias cursed himself again – none of the girls seemed to see more than the fine, odd lines, but there was a look of dreaded recognition in the eyes of the male Slytherins, especially Draco. Tobias pulled his dark hair from its ponytail, running his long fingers through it as he paused, forcing his mind away from the thought of where and from whom Draco had likely heard of the Blood-Boiling Curse.

"I'll just run along and check on Iona, then – wouldn't want her missing me too much at first…"

"You mean – your snake?" Pansy said, eyes widening further. Tobias smirked at her, and was gone with a nod.

His back prickled with the (possibly awed and more likely sceptical) stares of the Slytherins as he headed for the nearest staircase, intent on taking a rather significant detour to his uncle's dungeons before returning to his dormitory to truly check on Iona. Merlin knew he didn't have time to dawdle while the little snake grew more irritated and hungry by the minute, so he'd make the visit as quick as he could.

Or he'd try to – Severus had a way of turning a simple inquiry into a lecture or argument of far-reaching proportions, usually based on Tobias' flaws and overall uselessness at life. Tobias sighed to himself – he'd chance that anyway, being tired and not a little apprehensive that he'd screwed something up somewhere along the way.

"Severus."

"Tobias. Sit down." 'Tobias' declined politely, eyes locking amusedly with his uncle, inwardly feeling himself relax like he had not done since he'd exchanged these slightly familiar dungeons for the Slytherin dormitory a night ago.

"Heard any rumours about me yet?"

"Not as such." A chuckle escaped Toby against his own will – that was Severus, wasn't it? Pessimistic even when he didn't really mean it.

"You will, soon enough." He paused for a moment. "Something about my scars, I think – and about me being reared by my hated uncle to be something of a Junior Death Eater, I suppose, as I'm so bloody good at Defence." Severus surprisingly followed his nephew's example, chuckling lightly.

"No doubt Zaharia Vadim will come raving to me about your progress?"

"I hope so – even conjured a fucking fan for her in class today, smarmy as you like, to get on her good side. She scares me a bit, to be honest – wouldn't want to be on her bad side if I didn't need to be on good terms with her anyway," Toby said, peering over at Severus' desk full of messy, haphazard piles of parchment, miscellaneous jars of acidic ingredients, and – oddly, a paper fan. "Who'd you make this for, her daughter?" Even more oddly, Severus' face momentarily darkened with some kind of embarrassment as he coolly Accio-ed it from Toby's easy grip, tapping it so it dived straight into the fire inside his office.

"Nothing of the sort – confiscated it from some hapless lovesick fool earlier today. Thankfully it stopped singing by the end of that torturous class – " Tobias nodded absently, still examining his fa – uncle's face for clues to his odd flash of embarrassment. Perhaps it reminded him of something else entirely – like Li – no, not that, not here – or, even more plausible, somehow inadvertently hit the nail on the head…?

"Machinations do not suit you before lunch, Tobias," Severus remarked calmly, seemingly not needing to look up to sense Toby's roll of the eyes. "And stop that this instant – you are not required here until after lunch anyway. Unless there is something further you wish to – "

"Oh yeah – I used the Annelli viris on Malfoy in class today – a bit overenthusiastically, but I can fix that – and I incanted a small Ring of Pain in the dorm this morning." His uncle, who did not flinch at the name of the first spell, spluttered at the mention of the second.

"What?" Tobias' face darkened.

"Slimy little bugger woke me up with a curse. It was an automatic reaction – and one I'm thankful for. Seeing that face hovering over me in the morning, I ask you…Be glad I didn't use anything stronger." Severus sighed, flexing his quill hand momentarily as he ventured a further statement in a noticeably neutral tone of voice.

"I suppose you still wish to kill his…?" Tobias snorted, smiling coldly, hate boiling up frighteningly fast within him. His uncle sighed again. "Try not to damage him too much, Toby – Tobias," he corrected, at the dark look sent his way "Draco is not at fault for what his father did to you – remember that." Tobias snorted again, turning away, trying not to grit his teeth too hard.

"You sound like Dumbledore, honestly. Don't get your knickers in a twist, Severus – you won't be finding Draco kicking in a pool of his own blood any time soon. A large pool, of course, by my standards, but still. I'll be good – I'll keep my murderous impulses to myself, and that…" He looked at his watch. "Best be off, then – need to get to lunch." Tobias paused before the door, his dark eyes flicking to those of his uncle. "Friday, at the same time, then?"

"When you feel you've gauged the feeling of the house, yes. Otherwise, I've no need or desire to listen to your whingeing – our lessons will be strictly that, and nothing else, understand?" Toby nodded easily and turned away, and felt his uncle watch him leave as silently as he came.

Later on, on returning to lunch in a panic of lateness and the acute feeling of impending discovery, he would reflect that Severus had neither censured him for showing too many of his scars (not that he'd been all that specific) or for letting his hatred for Lucius influence his behaviour toward Draco.

Tobias would then slow down, as he did every other time the panic came upon him again. Because, if Severus wasn't yelling at him for being an utter fool and making frantic plans to whisk him back to Snape Manor, he must be doing something right.

A/N: Indeed, yeah. This is long, eh? But, trust me, it could've been longer, I tell you – I took out a whole little exchange between Harry and Draco in the class over the Manipulation Charm Harry was gleefully using on him.

Right – I apologise in retrospect for flubbed names, false Romanian village names and other little mistakes – I've been editing this chapter for a while, trying to get it all shipshape and in Harry's POV, as it was rather fragmentedly done before.

And, about Professor (Zaharia) Vadim's accent – it pops up in odd places, yeah, and I sorta did that on purpose. As anyone with an accent knows, it's hard to control where and when it sort of slips into your speech. Sometimes, like a few people I know, you just gain a few habits of pronouncing something in a particular way.

Sometimes, your command of the language fluctuates oddly, and you mispronounce something in passing without knowing.

By the way, review responses are in my livejournal (click on my homepage link on my FF. net profile), as always. You'll also find a little speculation about yet another (yeah) new idea that's kind of crept into my brain. Oh, and the next chapter's working title is simply Happenings, and I've no idea what kind of animal it is, in relation to this one.