Vi – I'm a Match, and she's Kerosene

"What happened? You look mad." Harry ran behind Rose to catch up as they walked from the Minister's reception area back towards the lifts. Rosalie took a deep breath, pinched the bridge of her nose and schooled her features.

"Nothing unexpected. Everything is alright for now. We have one more stop upstairs and then I think we will go home for lunch. I need a nap before I go to work tonight."

After waiting 3/4ths of an hour for their ticket number to be called in the Department of Licenses and Permits, Rose and Harry found themselves sitting at a desk with a very tired looking middle-aged wizard on the other side. His desktop was littered with stacks of papers, parchments, quills and rubber ink stamps all moving, filing and stamping on their own.

"What do you mean I need to complete a practical demonstration before you permit me my Brewing License? I already have the mastery, it's here, in your hand!" Rose was pointing to the stack of official papers gripped listlessly by the other.

"But this accreditation is from the US. You need to demonstrate safe brewing here in the UK."

Harry looked out of the corner of his eye at Rosalie. She had a vein popping from her forehead. He was afraid she would curse the poor ministry worker.

"Bureaucratic Bologna! I've had my mastery for years…."

"…with no practicum from our accrediting association. You must brew a successful N.E.W.T. level potion in front of a judging panel of Master Potioneers. The next date is Saturday August 28th at 11:00am. You'll have to get yourself to Hogwarts for the panel." The wizard explained in a sedated fashion, clearly use to this kind of interaction. He picked up a rubber stamp and began to smack it arbitrarily across several forms.

Rosalie cringed. "Isn't there somewhere else I could go?"

"The next demo will be held in November in Inverness. It's up to you, really." He handed back her parchments.

"No, I need to be able to brew at home. This is what I get for doing things the proper way."

"Here." He handed her another stack of parchments "This is the registration, ingredient list and other miscellaneous literature for the demonstration. It looks like you'll have Professor Severus Snape and Master Libatius Borage the Third as proctors. You'll be provided the standard Cauldron needed and instruction pamphlet upon arrival."

"Oh, this is going to be good." Rose whispered as she rose with her now rolled up scrolls. "Let's go home, Harry."

Thankfully, the rest of the summer passed by uneventfully. Rose had made arrangements for Harry to spend the day of her practicum with his friend's family, The Weasleys, in Diagon Ally. This made the boy very happy as he hadn't seen his friends since the end of school last year. He was also excited to hear about their trip to Egypt. Hermione would be joining them too, as it turned out! He was excited to tell them about his change in fortune with meeting Rosalie, and a day in the Ally was always fun, even if it were only to pick up school supplies.

The pair tumbled out of the floo in the Leaky Cauldron at half past nine in the morning on the 28th. It was a cloudy, unseasonably cool day, but that didn't dampen Harry's mood in the slight. He practically bounced on the balls of his feet as he spotted several red heads and one bushy haired brunette crowded at a long table on the inn's bottom floor.

"Hi Guys!"

A cacophony of greetings and smiles where tossed about. Ron patted him on the back and Hermione hugged him so tight his eyes could pop.

"So we hear little orphan Annie .." "It's so much an orphan anymore, eh?" The twins pried

"Oh, I was so happy when you wrote about you escaping your dreadful Aunt and Uncle, Harry!" Hermione gushed. "You look so much better than I've seen you after the holiday."

"Yeah! How's it been? Is she nice?" Ron implored, chewing on a piece of toast from the table.

"Thanks. Yeah, Rose is there, talking with Tom. Here she comes."

"Good morning, everyone." She smiled.

"Good morning, Dr Novack." Everyone rang back in salutation. Rose startled.

"Oh no, that will not do. My name is Rose. Mr. Weasley, thank you very much for having Harry today." He beamed. "May I speak with you aside for a moment, please?" Rose side stepped with Arthur while the children chattered excitedly about their summers. Ron holding up a copy of the Daily Prophet announcing the lottery winnings and a picture of the whole family by the Sphinx. The twins behind him miming hanging by nooses. It obviously wasn't the first time Ron had hauled out the newspaper. "Are you certain you are O.K. watching Harry for the day? I'm still worried about Black lurking around. I don't want to give you or the children in any undue stress..."

"Perfectly fine, Dr Novack! Harry's a pleasure to have, and the ally is so busy today, Black would be even crazier than we think to attack anyone in such a crowd. Just as well, I'll keep him close by." The red-haired man winked. "I've heard through the Ministry grape vine that you are a muggle born physician and healer. May I ask a question that has been bothering me for a bit?"

"Of course."

"What is the purpose of a Shoehorn? It seems it is neither a shoe, nor a horn." He asked with a deadly seriousness. Rose had to bite her cheek to stifle a giggle.

"I… will have to ponder that. Perhaps I'll have a good enough answer when I collect Harry." Mr. Weasley nodded in agreement.

"Harry, come here a moment." Harry padded over. Something was off about Rose today, he noticed.

"Are you worried about the practical? You don't seem yourself."

"I'm alright, kiddo. I'm not crazy about going into Hogwarts, but I have to do what I have to do. Anyway, here is your list of school supplies, and some coinage. I'll meet you at Foretscue's by 6, Alright?" She leaned into whisper in Harry's ear "Mr. Wealsey is an adorable man to be loved and treasured." He nodded with a smile. Rose spun Harry around "Go, out of my sight! Behave." She tapped his bum with her staff

"I will!" he laughed "Break a leg, or blow up a cauldron, er, whatever you say before one of these things."

Rose smiled and waved as she threw down some floo powder and with a brilliant green flash found herself in the entrance hall of the great stone castle and there were 20 other barely legal witches and wizards milling in long brewing robes holding copies of Borage's "Advanced Potion Making" close to their hearts. She was easily the senior of the group.

"What fresh Hell have I stepped into?" She asked no one as she shouldered her green ruck more securely and stepped out of the fireplace

"Hi! I'm Trevor McClenland. Are you here for the Potion portion of the N.E.W.T. Mastery? I didn't know they let 6th years try out. Didja forget your robes? They have loaner pairs here. I wonder what they will have us brewing. Didja hear that one of the proctors is Master Borage himself?! Ah! I'm so excited."

"Hi! Yes, I'm here for the Practical." This was overwhelming. Rosalie noticed that she was the only person who hadn't donned her robes and thought it may be a good idea to not be the odd man out. Perhaps then no more of the excitable not-quite-adults would want to chat. She dug deep into her rucksack and pulled out her long black brewer's coat. It was one of the only tailored bits of clothing she owned. Loose and billowing at the bottom hem crept up into a fitted frocked bodice with tight buttoned sleeves, so as not to droop into whatever is in your cauldron. It was layered with dragon skin underneath to protect from burns and blow backs. Truly one of her most prized possessions. Standing back from the crowd smoothing out her bodice, she gripped her Staff and hid her ruck under the folds of the robe.

"Oh Yeh! Now you look older! Not a 6th year are you?" Asked Trevor

"Kid, I'm nearly old enough to be your mum, but thanks for the compliment, I guess."

"Good morning, Good morning! I'm Master Borage, and this is my assistant proctor for today, Professor Severus Snape! Ah, yes, yes. No Applause please. We are here for you today! Each of you have prepared for the last few months for this practical exam. If you are able to brew the assigned position to at least an Exceeds Expectations, you will be eligible for a class 3 mastery and apprenticeship with and accredited Potioneer! Please take a few moments to go over your assignments and your ingredients. You will have 4 hours to complete the brew! Ready! Begin!"

Borage was a diminutive man with thin silver hair and a boisterous personality. Brain vomiting, was the term that came to mind for Rosalie. He was the great great grandson of the first L Borage who wrote the textbook everyone else was now throwing themselves into at their benches and had been enjoying a lifelong ride on those coat tails. Rose had met the man once at a dinner function for the last hospital she worked in the states, she was hardly impressed.

She glanced at her ingredients lined up for her on the bench next to a size 3 silver cauldron: Bat spleens, pomegranates, iron core filings. She knew before opening her packet that she had been assigned a Blood-replenishing Potion. Brilliant! This would not take the whole 4 hours. Suddenly a tall shadow billowed its way over to her bench.

"What in Merlin are you doing here?"

"The bureaucrats made me come, Professor." Rose gave a petulant gaze up at Snape. He smirked "I'll do what I have to do, but I have a question, is music allowed?" She held up a set of headphones plugged into a small yellow Sony Walkman cassette player. "The radio won't work in the castle, but I have a cassette that I listen to when I brew. It helps me concentrate." She slyly grinned at him.

Master Borage made his way over to her bench. "Ah, Dr Novack! So sorry you must entertain this little officiality. It's nonsense." He waved his hand as if to will the nonsense away. "A quick question for you, dear, I was under the impression you finished out at Ilvermorny. Come to find when we ran your credentials for today's registration, that your N.E.W.T.s were completed via correspondence classes from Bohemia and were signed by Emelius Bickworth! What would possess you to drop everything and study under him? He had such dark rumors about him before he died."

"He was a good potioneer. You shouldn't believe everything the rumor mills churn out, Master. As for my time in the Czech, I relocated when my terminally ill father wished to go home. I obliged." Snape's eyebrows raised into his hair at the admission.

"You studied under…Bickworth?" Snape drawled, like he was tasting the word. He stored the information for later. Bickworth was indeed a somewhat unsavory character whos name was not unknown in… darker circles. A question in his eyes regarding her father's fate was left unspoken, but not unnoticed by Rose. A story for another time.

"May I listen to my cassette while I brew?" She held up the device for Borage. "I swear I am not cheating."

May I see? I have to make sure it isn't spewing directions, not that I think you would need help! Haw Haw!" He placed the headphones on his and Rose pressed the play button. Borage leapt in the air with a huff and a sputter and quickly pulled them off. "What the devil is this?! It sounds like mermaids above the water!"

"It's just a little Metallica."

"…Exit light

Enter night

Take my hand

We're off to never-never land.."

The music could be heard softly playing through the headphones no one was listening to still in the old man's hand. Snape had walked away from the bench. He had to, lest he couldn't stifle the laugh threatening from deep in his chest.

She was an irritant of the highest degree.

"Well, yes, I think this should be fine." Borage handed the device back to Rose, who placed the headphones on and started back to her task.

Snape had to stifle another laugh not long later when he peeked over towards Rose and saw her close the bench's reference edition of "ADVANCED POITION MAKING", roll her eyes and toss it over her shoulder. I mean, it was useless drivel anyway.

"She looks like a conductor of a symphony, doesn't she, Severus? Just look at her go!" Borage thrilled. "So much passion for the art! It's like watching the ballerina! Ah, if I were a younger man…." He trailed off.

Snape was uncomfortable in the least at that comment. Although her movements were quite graceful and perfectly timed like choreography, and she did look quite fetching in her dark fitted robes, this was still Rosalie, and Rosalie hated ballet. He inwardly cringed at Borage's inference.

"Do you think she is listening to Chopin? Bach? Tchaikovsky?"

"I think she is probably listening to Iron Maiden, if I know her…." He moved away

She was.

Sooner then anyone expected, Rose was finished. A beautifully crimson liquid was bottled and waiting for inspection on Borage's desk. "Phenomenal! Of course, you may take your leave. We will send your certificate of completion by owl in the next few days."

"Thank you, Master, Professor." She went back to her station to clean her area. She started cleaning everything by hand, lingering for a reason she didn't really know. It would be close to 2 hours before she had to collect Harry from the ice cream and sweet shop in Diagon ally. She was also hoping to maybe speak with Severus before leaving as well. She glanced around the room in curiosity while wiping down the bench to see if she could identify what everyone one else was brewing. Eventually her eyes stopped on Trevor, the boy from the Great Hall entryway. She had seen his provided stack of ingredients before hand and knew that he was to make a simple Fire- Protection Potion.

But the fumes escaping from the top of the cauldron where the wrong color. They were green instead of a glacial blue. Trevor looked flustered. He'd stirred the pot clockwise too many times, and then did it again. Rose locked wide eyes with Severus as the boy was about to drop a fourth bursting mushroom into the over heating cauldron. They both sprinted into action knowing exactly what was to come. The cauldron began to sizzle, the fumes stopped completely. It was like waiting for a bomb to go off.

Rosalie reached the boy first and flung him out of the way. She casted a wandless "protego", but the energy from the pot broke through the weaker magical barrier. BANG! Her world faded to black.

"Rosie, it's time, love." A nurse's hand rested on her shoulder.

A younger Rosalie stood in front of a window overlooking the Czech landscape. Here in the highest floor of the hospital, you could see the banks of the Vltava River with old stone bridges carrying cars and people to their destinations. Prague was an ancient town still sleepy with old fashion ways under the red curtain in Eastern Europe. It had been difficult all around to get Dad home after the chemotherapy had failed and the cancer ravaged his still young body, logistically difficult and emotionally difficult. Who wanted to travel to such an unrested place? Not the 17-year-old girl 8 months ago, but Rose had always played the good daughter, didn't she?

She sat by the bedside of a husk of the man who had raised and nurtured her and held his hand. His diseased body remain, but his spirit left last night when he shut his eyes. His final croaked words to his daughter, "I'm sorry I've been dragging you around the world like a rag doll. Promise me, Little Flower, that you will find your center, your home, your heart, your passion! Never let it go. I don't want you to be so lost forever, Kvetina." Then he fell into a fitful sleep, aided by the morphine and the Ativan administered by the nurses. The oxygen mask on his face was for comfort only. Later that night, his body finally submitted. Rose was, for all intents and purposes, alone.

Alone.

Alone and wondering through the streets of Prague at night. Master Bickworth had given her two weeks off for bereavement and time to settle out affairs and arrangements, then she was to take an assignment of ingredient purchasing in Albania. Most of the two weeks were spent wallowing in the shadows and the last sips from that bottle of Vodka she'd bought after leaving the hospital. She was tired of feeling numb, feeling nothing but pins and needles. So, alone wondering the streets of Prague one night after her father had passed away that just so happened to be her 18th birthday, Rosalie wondered into a dark and dank tattoo parlor.

She wanted to feel something.

"Get Out Of The Way!" Snape bellowed, side stepping gawking teenagers. His ears were ringing, but he nor any other person was worse for wear. The man-child who exploded his cauldron stood against the wall with a stunned stare and singed eyebrows. "What were you thinking, you abysmal dunderhead? You could have killed everyone!"

Trevor couldn't say anything in defense, his eyes trained on the still form of the woman who took the brunt of the blast. "I- is-is she gonna be alright?"

Rose lay in a crumpled heap on the ground, eyes shut, hair singed at the ends. Her robes tattered and smoldering. Snape felt his breath catch in his throat as he knelt beside her. He didn't want to touch her for fear of causing more damage. It looked like some of the fabric was burnt into her arms.

"Call Madam Pomfrey! Now!"

"I'm Already here, Severus! I heard the blast." She was at his side in seconds. "My heavens. To the infirmary! We must get those robes off and some disinfectant and burn balm on her right of way. She'll be in pain, but she will live."

By the time Rosalie had been transported to the infirmary, she had stopped smoldering.

"We need to cut away the cloth. Severus, please help me." Pomfrey handed him a pair of shears. He hesitated for a moment, feeling a niggle of embarrassment for disrobing her while asleep, but her need for assistance won in the end. They had rolled her in to a prone position and began to cut way the fabric from the back where the damage wasn't so great. Damn that dragon skin bodice! He cut through her tank top undershirt expecting to see pale clear skin. His blood ran icy cold at what he had revealed instead.

There had to be a different explanation for the ink on her skin. Thinking quickly, he rolled Rose back on to her back and allowed Poppy to tend the remaining disrobement. When she was finished with her diagnostic spells, he cast a quiet glamour charm to temporarily disappear the mark. Her arms and hands had taken the brunt of the damage, likely in a defensive maneuver to shield her face from debris and scalding goo, which had escaped being marred. Her hair on the other hand…

Poppy sighed as she chopped off chunks of Rosalie's hair for the second time. "She's going to be in a right state when she wakes up, Severus."

"Yes. I suppose she will."

Rosalie opened a sleepy eye. Oh! Her head was pounding. She reached up to touch her forehead and felt a spongy wad of gauze was there instead of the skin of her fingers. She looked at her hands and arms all wrapped in bandages, the room around her, and bed she lay on was a familiarity from her childhood. For a second, she was transported back to the day in the school's dungeon girl's lavatory, where a group of Slytherin girls attacked her with a million hexes and carved a nasty slur into her staff. She began to hyperventilate, and her vision threatened to black out again.

Long pale fingers pushed a vial smelling of spearmint and lavender to her lips. A Calming Draught, she thought. The scent grounded her, and she was able to drink it down. She eased out of panic and focused on the dark figure sitting at her bedside. It was dark outside.

"Oh No! Harry! I've got to pick up Harry!" She fumbled to get up from the bed, only to find herself stuck to it with a charm. "Let go! He'll think I abandoned him! He hasn't been out of my sight this long since the attack in the meadow!"

"He's safe. He's been taken to the Burrow." The figure stayed in the shadow of corner; his tone of voice was icy. Rose had never heard him speak like that before. She shivered.

"What's the Burrow?"

"The Weasley's residence. Where he probably should have been taken all along." She could see him tent his fingers and lean on his knees

"Excuse me? What the devil has gotten into you? Let me up.." She struggled against the invisible binds.

"How long have you been involved with dark magic? With the Death Eaters?" There. He asked. No beating around the bush.

Seeing the irrevocable evidence permanently printed on the smooth skin of her left shoulder had broken pieces of his heart Severus didn't even know he had. If little Rosalie could fall for the call of the Dark Lord, then what chance did anyone have when he returned?

Her face went pale, and she cast down her gaze. Defiantly she explained into her lap. "I have no idea what a 'Death Eater' is, but I haven't touched the Dark Arts in years. How could you possibly find ou-" A silent tear slid down her cheek.

"Don't. Lie. To me."

"I don't lie! You know me, Sev-"

"Enough! Do not call me that! You have no right anymore!" He exploded. Snape rose from the chair and was towering over the bed in a blink. Leaning dangerously close to Rose's face, he hissed "If you don't know who the Death Eaters are then explain the Dark Mark on your back." His face contorted into a ferocious snarl and his black wispy hair obscured and shadowed part of his face. He looked menacing. He could snap her in two if he so much as wished right now.

"Do you mean my skull and snake?"

"YES! The Dark Mark!"

"It's a Memento Mori tattoo. I got it when dad died. It's not a Dark Mark, Severus! Let me go and I'll show you!" He eyed her suspiciously for a moment longer hoping in his soul she was telling the truth. She was sure he was about to storm out of the room but then she found her binds gone and stood up from the bed pushing Snape out of the way.

Standing in the dim light of the infirmary Rosalie turned her back to Snape and shouldered her hospital gown to the floor. She turned in a circle so he could see every mark on her body. Severus baulked and nearly threw a blush at her state of nudeness, but realized she was baring more then just her body to him. Those damn earnest hazel eyes stared right through his being, willing him in to see the truth.

"I have a lot of tattoos." She moved closer, still in her natural state, her gown clutched in her right bandaged hand. "This, she indicated to the offending mark, "Is a reminder to myself to Live because one day I will die."

Snape looked closer at the image and felt ashamed. It was not a serpent slithering out of a skull's mouth. He realized now, when it was quiet and no one was on fire, that the image was of a snake, eating its own tail circling a skull, an Ouroboros, the infinite loop. Latin script followed the serpent around its circumference "MOMENTO VIVERE, MOMENTO MORI"

Remember to live, because you will die.

"Now, are you finished treating me like we are reenacting the Salem Witch Trials?" She shrugged on her gown and sat back down on the bed.

"Rosalie, I am sorr-"

"Save it, Severus. I'm too angry to hear it right now." She held her hand up to silence him. She finally realized her hair had been lopped off, but there was no more disappointment left in her today. She sat in the bed with her back against the headboard closed her eyes and let her tears fall.

Snape sat in the quiet shadow of the corner again and thought of the last time he had tried to apologize to a friend after slighting them and how well that had gone over in the end. He was just that good at alienating people in his life.

A/N- The walkman thing is a nod to Alan Rickman, who apparently use to sneak an i-pod on set to listen to during filming. ] We goin' to Hogwarts in the next chappy!