A/N: Okay, I'm giving it another go. This is Snape oriented, but we will get back to Angelina (and a hopefully a moving plot) in the next chapter. (chapter mildly edited; don't read a second time, just less awkward)

Fire Angel

Pt. 2

Kronos

A five year old Severus Snape walked into his mother's quarters, his face already relatively neutral compared to his emotions, though the averagely perceptive person could still have spotted his anxiety, if they cared to look for it. He started to wait in the sitting room, until he heard Mother's voice calling form her bedroom door. He walked over and saw his mother sitting on the edge of her bed, a forgotten brush loosely clutched in her right hand.

"Mother . . ."

"Did your father see you?"

His immature façade of calmness crumbled, his face crumpling into the fear and sadness of a five year old boy. This was really bad if his actions could've possibly shamed his father. Tears welled up stubbornly in his startled eyes, though he tried to stop them. This hurt more than the other times that he upset or disappointed his family; he thought that his actions would have made them proud, and was surprised of his nanny's reaction when she spotted him in the hallway.

"Mother--! I'm sorry! I didn't know . .!"

His mother, at first too caught up in her own stress to realize her son tenuous state, was horrified at how she had affected her son. The brush thunked softly on the thick carpeting as she knelt down on the floor and gathered up Severus in her arms.

"Oh I am so sorry to scare you so, my dear. It's okay; nobody's mad at you." She petted his head for a few moments, her pale fingers sifting through his black, dank locks. Nervousness tugged at her middle again. "But son, did you father see you?"

He shook his head, still pressed against his mother's shoulder, though he was looking for him, as well as anybody else. He wanted to show him his greatest achievement, the first successful thing he had created with this beginning potions set, actually. His father had always complained, more to his mother than to Severus personally, about the condition of the boy's hair, and one of the first things he worked on when he got his first potions set was creating a shampoo. The best shampoo, he thought in his youthful exuberance.

The concoction was pretty simple, but as kids his age was just beginning to read, for young Severus to independently search out the procedure, read it, and then follow it perfectly with little difficulty was saying something about his budding intellectual and potion prowess. His mother noted this, if not a bit wryly.

Afterwards the boy went into the bathroom to test the product on himself (I'd like to think he was too innocent and naïve to consider trying it on somebody else first, but no, there were no other kids or animals in the house, and it was just shampoo, after all) and to his mind it seemed a success. The slick feeling of his hair was completely gone, and it certainly looked a whole lot better. He was surprised that the water was actually running out his hair as a murky color. He patted it dry, and set out to find someone, preferably his mother or father.

So how shocked he was, innocently bee-lining to the other side of the house, when his nanny saw him and flipped. In a panicked flurry she grabbed him up, and before he knew it, was having his hair washed a second time. He tried to tell her that he'd already done it himself, but she didn't seem to take notice of him speaking. Then he was sent here. Overall, he was more confused than anything.

"Mama," he pulled back from her shoulder, his voice small. "Did I do something, wrong?"

A much more relieved Mrs. Snape ruffled Severus' hair. Truthfully, if her husband did see him, he would have already been here, so she was no longer too worried. "No Severus. The potion you made was fine; it's just that it turned your hair into the most awkward shade. I'm sure Ms. Small did not want such a mishap to reflect badly on her part." Just how long did she leave him to his own devices? "And so she fixed this as soon as possible."

Severus blinked. When he looked in the mirror afterwards it was still wet, and was still dark enough to not cause any alarm. It helped that the back room that he used was pretty dim. "Oh. I'm sorry."

A warm smile spread across his mother's face.

"That's okay dear. You did great for your first try!"

A thirty-eight year old Severus Snape was following Headmaster Dumbledore to his office, brooding. The old man swooped down and snatched him out of his fifth year potions for this. Probably thinking that he'd run off somewhere otherwise. And of course he let out class early instead of using one of his backup quizzes. Though the act was somewhat aggravating, that wasn't the reason for his foul humor.

"Albus, if there is any way I can possibly dissuade you . . .?"

"Now, Severus, this is for you own good," as he had said before.

"I don't see how ferreting me away on some far corner of this planet is going to do either of us any good," as he'd said before.

Dumbledore look back at the potions professor. His black hair was obscuring most of his face, but not enough to hide his scowl. He sighed. "Severus, I think it would do you a lot of good for you to see the end of the war. And it would do me good to know that you are relatively safe. As safe as these times call for anyway."

A part of Severus was touched that someone would deign to care so much about him. A part. And a relatively small one at that, compared to his frustrated anger. Frustrated because 1) he could fight until he was blue in the face and he'd still end up going and 2) really, this was his own fault. He wasn't quite sure what he actually did, and it probably wasn't any one action in particular, but the Dark Lord had finally caught on to him. It was through is spying skills that he found this out before everything shut down on him but truthfully, he had maybe a week left. If the Snake Lord was feeling gracious.

"I assure you Albus that dying the death of a thousand Crucios isn't my ideal either, but I'll be serving no purpose if I go. My tenuous state has not yet gone through all the ranks, and I can still provide you with some information."

"Until you were tortured and killed." The flat tone was really unaccustomed to Albus' voice.

"As opposed to being found before being tortured and killed, yes." But sarcasm was by no means a stranger to Severus'. "You act as if running away will actually keep me safe in the long run. You know the Dark Lord can eventually track me down." Not to mention killing his arm in the process. "Why should I delay the inevitable?"

Staying in character aside, Dumbledore was so tempted to say "Because I'm telling you to" his whiskers twitched. He settled for a twinkle that he knew basically communicated the same thing. "Severus, have you not once told me that I am the one of the few people that you can trust?"

Severus grimaced. "Yes, Albus," Dumbledore smiled.

"Would it kill you to act on that theory for once?"

Snape let out a hiss of air, briefing moving his heavy dark locks. He conceded by not pressing it further. "Can you at least tell me where I'm going?"

"No."

"No! Albus, this is preposterous! You can't possibly-"

"Aren't you curious about who will be accompanying you?"

Snape sighed. No, actually, he wasn't curious at all about who would be going with him. Hm, well, with all this hoohah about not wanted to see him dead, he did wonder who Albus thought to be good enough for a one-man army. But you know what, right now, he'd rather not admit it. He'd just settle for glaring—wait. Snape sharply placed a hand on Dumbledore's shoulder, stopping them in front of the gargoyle.

"Albus Dumbledore, if you tell me that I will have to accompany this thing with Potter, I will leave you right now and personally appear before Voldermort with a red ribbon around my neck."

Albus shook his head. "Severus, don't you think it is about time that you two decided to get over your differences . . ." Now it was Dumbledore's hand to grasp Severus' shoulder to stop his retreating form, and sighed. "No, Severus, it is not Harry." Though later, if he could, he was going to shove those two in a locked room one day. Preferably inflammable. "The best way to divert the enemy's eyes away from finding a target is not to put a bigger target right next to it."

Before Severus could show any signs of relief, he added, "But she is one of your former students."

A 'she' huh? Snape grabbed the bridge of his nose, trying to sway a headache. He was not going to just ask who it was, because he knew he'd make him guess. Well, at least it crossed out all the Weasley twits. Er, except the girl, who was still in school, so he should be safe from her as well. He didn't know who he thinks should be important enough for him to remember. He exhaled harshly out of his nose.

"Is it the Granger woman?"

"Chiclets."

"What the—" Severus gritted his teeth as the gargoyle jumped out the way, revealing the stairway. He didn't know whether it was more annoying to have Dumbledore to keep doing that or for him to keep falling for it. The headmaster sensed that Snape's toleration for his kidding has ended. Ah, well, what harmin a bit more fun?

"Well, Severus, I don't know if you would recall her actually. She just got out of Auror training, and looks very promising indeed. Do you remember a Miss Angelina Johnson?"

Dumbledore pretended to ignore Severus' as he ceased walking and continued his way to his office. Actually, Severus himself had to yet realize he'd stop moving.

"Are you serious?" he muttered to no one in particular. He wasn't on the best of terms with that girl. Well, okay, that could stand well with many of Hogwarts students, but she was on the list of the top five people that he would rather not have to share too much breathing space with. Oh, wait, he forgot to calculate the Weasleys. . . well then she was definitely in the top twenty. The only thing that redirected his ire back then was the resurrection of James Potter with bad contacts and his sidekicks. That he was sure were buried alive to wait for his services in his tomb.

The potions professor was taken out of his thoughts by the squawkings of the phoenix. He cursed under his breath, though he really should be thanking Fawkes for averting a possibly embarrassing situation involving the end of the moving staircase and the floor.

'Sorry waste of part of a three course meal. . .' he thought sourly as he made his way to the Headmaster's office.

A/N: Heh, well, this is moving a bit slower than I expected. But I don't plan to quit on this thing until I give it a discernable plot. They may be low goals but I have goals, blast it, and I'm going to stick by them!

I got reviews! (And I'm being spied on. Neat.) I didn't really know what to expect from this story, so thank you for the encouragement angelface04, FredsAngel, and evilevergreen, I really appreciate it. I would also appreciate any feedback so, if you have any opinion or question or critique or intense loathing . . .anything really, hit me back. Hm, and is there anyone who would do beta, just curious.

A/N2: Wow, um, yeah, about . . .yeah. How about I save my excuses for the third chapter?