All the usual disclaimers apply.
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Chapter 2: Of Hot Water and Frost
Zipporah woke at 5:46 the next morning out of sheer discomfort. She felt like she had lost a wrestling match with the Giant Squid. It had taken her three hours the previous night to scrub the dungeon to Professor Snape's satisfaction, and when she had returned to the Ravenclaw tower, she had not had the energy to change out of her school uniform. She had simply fallen into bed, shoes and all.
Now she disentangled herself from her covers and sat up with some difficulty. Snatching a clean uniform from the chair by her bed, she dragged herself off to the bathroom to see if some hot water wouldn't loosen her stiff muscles. The bathroom was empty at this hour - both the claw foot tubs and the showers were free. Zipporah opted for a tub, and, after summoning a privacy screen and disrobing, lowered herself slowly into the steaming water. Her muscles screamed with the effort, but soon began to unknot in the heat. The tall girl sighed with relief.
She soaked in the water until her fingers were beginning to prune, then carefully washed her hair and stepped out onto the cold stone floor, drying herself with one of the fluffy white towels that the house elves had stacked in the bathroom. After dressing, Zipporah stood staring at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair dry. She saw a tall, dark-haired girl with brown eyes, an average body shape, and an unassuming face with a scattering of freckles across the nose and dark, tired circles under the eyes.
Nothing to be excited about. A face no one would look at twice.
After plaiting her hair, Zipporah stopped by her room to drop the previous day's clothing in the laundry basket. She stood for a moment, staring longingly at her bed, and sighed. If I go back to sleep now, I'm going to wake up exhausted. I might as well write this week's Letter and get it over with.
Zipporah had lived with her father's brother and his wife from the time of her parents' death when she was five years old. She couldn't honestly say that the old house had been a particularly pleasant place to grow up, but she hadn't thought to complain. They had an excellent library, and she had been able to loose herself in the garden when tensions rose in the house. Her uncle took what he felt was his responsibility toward her seriously; mostly, this consisted of making sure she had enough food to eat and proper clothing. It was her aunt that required a weekly letter from her when she was at Hogwarts.
Zipporah picked up her satchel from the floor and descend the stairs to the common room. The common room was still and silent, the only sound the crackling of the newly lit fire in the fireplace. The Ravenclaw smiled; she loved the silence, although this morning it might lull her to sleep. Silence allowed her to work without distraction, to read and think and dream.
Choosing a seat at the table closest to the flickering light of the fire, Zipporah pulled a fresh roll of parchment out of her bag, along with her quill and ink, and began her Letter. She had not much to say, as it was only the second day of classes, and she had decided that the less that was said about her detention, the better. Her short note completed, she climbed up to the Owlery, and soon the Letter was winging its way to its destination.
That completed, the tall girl found an out-of-the-way nook to curl up with her leather-bound copy of The Poetry of Robert Frost: The Collected Poems.
"Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow..."
Zipporah read until her stomach growled, reminding her that it was time for breakfast.
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Severus Snape glowered over his morning coffee. It was much too early to be up, and much, much too early to be watching several hundred students make fools of themselves over breakfast.
"Severus, do have a muffin. The house elves have outdone themselves this morning."
Snape shot a glare at the headmaster, who was cheerily offering him a plate. He would certainly not have a muffin; it was much too early to think about eating. But he supposed he'd better take one of those damned things or the headmaster would keep prodding him. Severus took one muffin between his thumb and forefinger, as if it were something distasteful (which indeed it was), dropped it on his plate, and resolved to think no more of it.
As the potion master refilled his coffee, his eyes strayed over the students assembled before him; most were either stuffing their faces or chatting animatedly with their friends. There were a few, however, who were not. Draco was setting something on fire; Snape let it pass. Miss Granger was studying madly for some test or other, as usual. Miss Stevens…
Zipporah Stevens was sitting a little apart from the other Ravenclaws, twirling a strand of dark hair around one finger. There was some sort of leather bound book propped up against the juice jug; she had an enraptured look on her face. Somehow, Snape doubted that was homework. Probably some sort of romance novel, although she didn't quite seem the type.
What is she reading? The potions master stared at the girl for a few moments, as if the answer were more likely to be legible on her face than on the spine of the book.
And why the hell do I care? Snape put the 6th year student out of his mind, and his eyes fell to his plate. Where there had once been a muffin, there were now just crumbs. He scowled. He had actually eaten the damned thing.
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Double 6th year potions with Snape. Again. She was early. It was better to be early, to have time to set up and to scan her notes. The past several weeks of classes had been challenging, but none more so than Potions, and Zipporah had begun to take a defensive stance. If Snape was going to pick on her, she would be ready.
Professor Snape seemed to be interrogating her more these days. Perhaps it was her new location in the room, perhaps it was because she was seated with Theodore Nott, the rather mousy-looking Slytherin with a genius for the class. And she was answering more and more questions correctly, crumpling less often under the pressure. All the same, it wouldn't do to slack. She was half-way through her notes from the previous class when Theodore slumped into the seat beside her. She scarcely noticed him. He didn't speak to her, not unless he couldn't help it.
Today, however, was different.
"Hey, Stevens."
"Mmmhmm…" Zipporah kept her eyes on her notes. Ingredients of the Moretanias Potion have included valerian, mid-winter frost, mashed silk-worm…
Theodore elbowed her in the ribs, hard. "Hey, Stevens!"
Zipporah looked up, irritated. "Yes, what is it?"
"Professor Snape wants to see you in his office."
"What, before class?"
"Yes, you numbskull, before class." Theodore rolled his eyes. "As in two minutes ago."
Zipporah laid the sheaf of notes down on the pitted surface of the lab table. She stood and walked out of the room, trying to look confident and failing miserably. It was only a few steps down the corridor, then she was facing the solid wooden door to Professor Snape's office. The tall girl took a deep breath and knocked.
"You're late."
Zipporah pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it carefully behind her. Snape was sitting at his desk, almost perfectly still.
"Nott just found me, sir."
Snape said nothing, just raised an eyebrow in her general direction. Zipporah fought the urge to copy his quizzical expression. That would only end badly. Professor Snape would not like it when he thought you were laughing at him, and she wasn't feeling particularly suicidal today.
"Sir?"
Snape leaned back in his chair. "Miss Stevens, if the alchemic value of hellebore were 4.0021 instead of 4.0, how would that affect its reaction with crocodile teeth in a Shrinking Solution?"
What. The. Hell. Zipporah could only stare.
"Now, Miss Stevens."
The words seemed to kick Zipporah's mind into gear, and her thoughts went whizzing toward a solution.
"I suppose that would mean that a precipitate would form unless one combined it with…"
"An excess amount of asphodel."
"Yes, sir. Or unless one stirred the intermediate potion an extra quarter-turn counter-clockwise."
Professor Snape's eyes narrowed. "Thank you, Miss Stevens. Now get to class."
"Yes, sir."
Zipporah turned and left the room quietly and walked on silent feet back to the potion's classroom. What was that all about?
She didn't have a lot of time to muse. She was just sitting down on her tall stool when Professor Snape swept in to begin the class.
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A/N: Poem is "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost.
