September 4, 1988
"Rice, Analise"
Severus Snape was only half listening to the sorting ceremony as a small slip of a girl with strawberry blonde hair nervously stumbled her way to the stool. He was more interested in the unknown woman seated between Sybil and Septima. She was tall and broad shouldered for a woman, dressed in shimmering robes of turquoise and wearing a wide brimmed hat trimmed with jeweled netting. It hid most of her face from this angle, but he knew he'd never seen her before.
Michael isn't here. Has Albus replaced him with her?
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
He cast his eyes briefly to Pomona's newest house member before turning back to the woman. She was clapping rather enthusiastically and he wondered if she had attended Hogwarts in the same house.
"Richby, Alistair."
That name was enough to draw his attention. Mathias Richby had been a Slytherin five years ahead of him during his time as a student. Snape watched with mild curiosity as a young boy who could only be his son walked up to the stool and sat down. They had the same sandy brown hair and almond shaped eyes and even the same strange curve to their ears. The only difference was their eye color. Mathias had, had vibrant blue eyes and the boys were dark as coal.
Minerva gave the boy the same encouraging smile she gave every new student before she set the Sorting Hat on his head. The hat; however, was not making it easy on her. It seemed almost reluctant to be placed on the child's head; wrinkling itself up as tight and small as possible. When it finally slipped down over the boy's eyes it shuddered then twisted back and forth.
"How strange. Has it ever done this before?" Snape turned to their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Simon Blackwell.
"Not that I am aware of."
Nearly five minutes passed with no house being declared and the teachers began throwing each other subtle glances. Snape could see the tension in Minerva's back. He knew she wanted to look to Albus for direction, but she didn't want to worry the children. Was it possible that the hat may not be able to place a student?
"RAVENCLAW!"
The declaration was so sudden and so loud that only years as Albus' spy kept him from jumping out of his seat. Several of the other teachers started violently, Hagrid's chair creaking dangerously. Many of the students sitting closest recoiled and one of the first years lost their footing and fell.
"What in the world?"
Snape rolled his eyes. Their gamekeeper whispered like a cannon. Minerva gave the half-giant a stern frown and leaned forward to lift the hat. It jerked upward into a crumpled ball of fabric the moment she had hold of it. Alistair, unfazed by the hat's strange behavior, slipped from the stool and turned left. The remaining first years parted quickly to let him pass and the Ravenclaw's sitting at the head of the table edge down as far as they could to let him sit.
The remainder of the sorting was uneventful and the feast as enjoyable as ever. During the end of feast announcements he finally found out who the newcomer was. Dumbledore stood, announcing that the Forbidden Forest was out of bounds, reminding everyone that magic in the corridors between classes was not allowed, and that Quidditch trials would be held the second week of term.
"I would like you to welcome our two newest staff members. Allow me to introduce Professor Blackwell who will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts and Professor O'Connor who will be our new Muggle Studies professor."
Both stood to greet the students and Snape was finally able to get a look at her. He was not one to admire appearances and he would deny even to himself such thoughts, but she was beautiful. She had thick sleek red hair like fire and dark forest green eyes. Her vibrant red lipstick stood out against her pale skin, drawing attention to her impish smile. As he looked at her she glanced along the table to wave at her new colleagues and met his eyes.
There was a brief press upon his mind and he glared with blatant hostility at her attempt at Legilimency. She winked and pressed again, her smile wider. Was she goading him? One more press, another wink, and he finally pushed back. It was clear what she wanted and her mind was open and ready for him. A memory pushed to the front of her mind immediately.
She was standing in front of a mirror, smiling coyly. Even though he was seated in the Great Hall, merely watching this strange memory turned message, it still made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand up. When she spoke it was with a thick Irish brogue, with a hint of Scotland.
"I honestly didn't think you would. Meet me in my office immediately after the feast. I must have a very important conversation with you, Professor Snape. Spy to spy."
He was pushed from her mind, her Occlumency shields resembling a thick vast forest like a maze. If she did not want him in her mind again he did not think he would stand a chance at it. She was as skilled as he was.
"Thank you, Professors, thank you Messrs. Weasley." Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling as the pair reclaimed their seats and the Weasley brood quieted. It seemed that they were well acquainted with the new professor. All three boys were smiling widely at her. "Lastly, a change in curriculum has been made quite recently and so I am afraid letters have not had a chance to go out. As of this year Muggle Studies will be a mandatory study to all students, third year and up, who do not already have prior experience with muggles."
A great deal of murmuring went around the hall and there were many cries of indignation from the Slytherin table.
"Did you know about this?" Snape hissed at McGonagall. She turned, just as surprised as him, and shook her head.
"He never said anything to me."
"It has long been debated over the past eight years and a decision was finally reached. This has been deemed to be in the best interest of promoting positive relations with Muggles. And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"
Snape knew that was a blatant lie and wondered just what the Headmaster was playing at.
Snape strode down the corridors his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. O'Connor had called herself a spy, was a master Occulemens, and currently occupied a position teaching a subject that was now mandatory. The whole situation reeked of Dumbledore's usual meddling. What the hell was the old fool up to now? He hated how the man never put his full faith in anyone; never telling his pawns everything there was to know.
"It is unwise to put all of one's eggs in the same basket, Severus."
He scowled.
"Old fool."
O'Connor was waiting for him outside her rooms when he arrived. She wore a far less unnerving smile than in her memory and gestured inside. He curled his lip in something more closely resembling a sneer than a smile and stepped through the door. The large window draped with dark blue curtains on the far wall showed the western horizon and a large desk was situated before it. Two small leather chairs were situated in front. On the left wall a large fireplace was flanked by two plush chairs and a table. Behind them was a coffee table then a couch. The door to her personal rooms was open to his right and there was a Muggle record player and a book shelf flanking it.
"Since magic disrupts electronics I had to turn my favorite music into records so I can still listen to it."
The heavy bolt of the door slid into place as she spoke and his palms were immediately sweaty. He let his wand slide into his palm and turned to face her. Just what the hell was she up to? She was smiling innocently and leaning against the door, fingers laced behind her back.
"Just what are you planning on doing, O'Connor?" His tone dared her to try something.
"You can relax. I'm not planning anything."
She smiled and pushed off the door, but did not approach. Instead she began to change. Her impressive height, at least 5' 11", reduced itself by at least six inches. Vibrant red hair darkened to thick shining ebony and her eyes turned a stormy grey. Soon she was shrinking even further. She was barely five feet tall, her hair chestnut and her eyes brown. Then, suddenly, she was a tall buxom blonde with pale blue eyes, her chest straining against her robes. Finally he was staring at himself, his shoulders stretching the seams of her clothes.
"You're a metamorphmagus."
His doppelganger smiled. Somehow when she did it, it didn't seem so out of place on him.
"That's right." She returned to herself and moved to the table in front of the fireplace. There was a tray with a small silver cloche. "I hope you like Irish shortbread. It's all I have for now."
"I have no interest in your food. Why did you ask me here?"
"Straight to the point. I expected nothing less from you, but hospitality is in my nature." She crossed her arms, one of the chairs rotated, and she sat facing him. Snape frowned. Had she just…
"As you've probably already guessed, Dumbledore has recruited me to be a part of his resistance group. He has also asked me to spy for him."
"He doesn't trust me to handle such duties on my own."
"Oh, no; he trusts you implicitly, unlike me." They stared each other down for a moment. "Despite my own feelings on your loyalty I have agreed to help him and work with you whenever the need arises. Dumbledore is worried that Harry Potter's attendance in three years, his return to the magical world, will be a catalyst. He wants to be prepared."
"Why not wait until then? Why has he called you here now?"
"Other than the fact that it would make my presence here suspicious, he wants me to have an established and comfortable routine here. I will be knowledgeable of the castle and its inhabitants; their behaviors and routines. Should anything strange take place here I would then be able to spot it much easier than if I was new. Not to mention it will allow me to familiarize myself with what your group did during the first war and its members. Although I already know the Weasleys." She uncrossed her legs and re-crossed them, leaning her head on her left fist. "There was of course a condition for me to take up the teaching position he wanted me to."
"So I was right. You are behind Muggle Studies being a mandatory course."
"Does that bother you?" She fixed him an icy stare. He scowled at her.
"No. I was merely curious about what caused the sudden change and why he lied about it." She hummed gently and sat back in her chair. "What else is there? I know you haven't called me here just to let me know you're working as his spy."
"You're right. I want to establish an unquestionable routine that would allow us to exchange information without drawing attention to ourselves. If we start one right off the bat there will be no reason anyone should look at it as being anything more that it appears." She waved a hand at her desk and a black oriental tea set began making something that smelled of lemon balm and magnolia bark. His eyes widened.
"You can use wandless magic and without incantation."
The set crashed to the floor halfway to the table beside her. She was on her feet immediately and staring at him with a fierce intensity. Her mouth opened and closed twice before she turned from him and threaded her fingers through her hair. Several long strands slipped from the thick bun at the base of her skull.
"I thought maybe I missed something when the chair had turned, but I was right the first time."
She threw him a long-suffering look over her shoulder.
"You didn't want me to see that."
"No. I didn't. I haven't even told Dumbledore. I don't even want Dumbledore to know. I don't anyone to know. As I'm sure you'll find out from Dumbledore, I am an Auror for the ministry. It's advantageous for me to keep such a secret to myself."
"You're worried I'm going to tell someone."
"I would like to ask you to keep this to yourself, but after I've just told you I don't trust you I realize I have no right to ask that."
He sneered at her.
"You're right. You don't." She glared heatedly. "Regardless, I will keep this to myself; even from Dumbledore."
It's going to feel good to be the one keeping secrets from the old man for once.
"Though, I must question your usefulness as a spy or even as a member of the Order. You can't even manage to be self-aware enough to hide such a secret in the company of someone you don't trust."
O'Connor looked shocked at his agreement to keep her secret, but her face screwed up in a harsh glared at his insult.
"Now, what is this plan of yours?"
"Thank you, Snape." She growled out. "I want go with the story that I suffer almost daily from extremely debilitating migraines. In an effort to get relief I've turned to the Apsque potion."
"That is an extremely dangerous and extremely difficult potion to make."
"Yes, but if I'm held up in my rooms unable to deal with sounds and lights, sick, and in extreme pain for several days out of the week without it; then I'd probably be willing to take the chance."
"How would this allow us to exchange information, exactly?"
"Well, since it's dangerous to the taker if prepared wrong and is difficult to brew, it would stand to reason that a skilled potion master would want to be there for the first dose of the batch. It's makes enough for a week of daily doses, correct? You come to my office every Monday to observe the first dose so you can help if anything should go wrong. If anything were to happen it would do so within the first twenty minutes, right? That gives us enough time to speak of anything we would need to."
"Clever."
"I'm only sorry you'll have to brew such a difficult potion every Sunday."
"Don't lie to me. I'm sure you find it a fitting consolation for having to work with someone so untrustworthy."
"Don't act offended. It's not as if you cared about my opinion of you."
He gave her a look of pure derision.
"Fine. It is a suitable plan. I will brew the potion every Sunday and meet you here Mondays after the first set of classes. I have a study period to watch over. I can afford to be missing for twenty minutes. I'm sure your class can survive that long without you. What about tomorrow?"
"It would be good to start right away. We can say I had someone else make it. Someone would still need to observe me after all."
"Fine." He stared at her for a moment. "How did you and Dumbledore come to this arrangement? How do you know each other?"
"Now that would be telling. I think I've given away enough of my secrets to you tonight." He scowled but did not press her further. "Now, I'll give you the incantation that protects my quarters. It's Praesidium. Once the door is locked with that no one can get in or out and no one can hear what's going on inside. Only you and I know it, only I can give out the word, and it must be done in this room. If you tell anyone and they use it, it will not respond to them."
"That is quite advanced magic." His eyebrows rose appreciatively despite his disdain for her.
"Well I had a very good teacher."
He felt there was more to it than that, but knew she would not elaborate.
"If there is nothing else then, I will take my leave."
"No. Nothing."
He inclined his head slightly and turned for the door. The lock slid open with a heavy clunk at the wave of his hand. O'Connor stared wide-eyed at him as he swept out the door with a swish of his cloak and a haughty smirk. She dropped into her chair with a defeated huff as the door swung shut.
Note to self. Severus Snape is not one to be outdone.
She cast a forlorn look at her shattered tea set, waving her hand and watching as it repaired itself. Shards of porcelain jumped together and the tray, pot, and cups floated up to settle on her desk. Checking to make sure all the pieces had come together she rotated one of the cups between her fingers, her brow furrowed as she thought of her two major fuckups that night.
"She can't possible have meant him."