Author's Note: This took longer than I had expected due to a recent time crunch during which I did not have the time to write. I had hoped to squeeze a flashback into this chapter, but it was not to be. I've realized, however, that I do need to bang out an outline fairly quickly or I will be lost soon.
Thank you to Bergerac for reviewing; I hope this chapter causes a few more questions as to the nature of Professor Silvirin.
Chapter Two: A Steel-Tipped Tongue
Severus made no sound as he ascended the stairs to the Great Hall. Though the castle was virtually lifeless in its interval, he felt no desire to break the habit that had served him so well in pervading the privacy of unsuspecting students. He needed no silencing charm; a lifetime of walking in shadow had created a soft step and a calm, practiced demeanor – a demeanor that did not falter as he stepped into the Great Hall, finding the new professor and her welcoming committee far closer than he had expected.
As his gaze fixed upon her, his first thought was that she looked severely out of place. A woman of average height with a lean, muscular build, she seemed the product of a lifetime of arms training. She wore no robes, merely black leather pants with heavy black boots, a white silken shirt that buttoned down the front, and black leather gloves. Dark hair that presented itself as relatively straight at the top was weighted down by loose, natural curls, tied back with thick leather cording. Ice blue eyes, nearly grey, were a sharp contrast against her tanned skin.
Severus wondered why she hadn't applied to teach at the magic school in Spain, but that question was quickly squelched when she opened her mouth, a decidedly English accent forming words that answered something Dumbledore had said. "Thank you, Headmaster. I'm sure it will be more than suitable."
"Please dear, call me Albus."
She gave a smile that Severus noticed didn't quite reach her eyes, clasping the Headmaster's arm as he extended it. "Then I must insist you call me Ligistra."
The old wizard gave a genuine smile, his eyes sparkling brilliantly. He caught Severus' approach without even needing to turn to him, though he did so out of polite necessity. "Severus, your timing is impeccable. Ligistra, this is Professor Severus Snape, our resident Potions Master. Professor Snape has been a fixture of this castle for over fifteen years; a fixture without which I am certain Hogwarts would surely crumble."
Severus was not amused by the old man's attempt at humor, harmless though it may be. He gave a chaste nod. "It has been my pleasure."
"I seem to recall the two of you attending Hogwarts at the same time, though only for a brief interval." He took a moment to mull it over, somehow sorting through the thousands of faces nestled in the recesses of his memory. "Ah yes, I remember now. Ligistra was sorted into Gryffindor during your fifth year, Severus."
"I'm afraid I can only summon a vague recollection." In truth he didn't remember the woman at all, though he imagined she had likely joined in on the favorite Gryffindor past-time. His jaw clenched imperceptibly.
"I'm certain it cannot be quite as vague as my own recollection of you, Professor." Though her lips remained smoothed into a pleasant smile, her eyes held a challenge. Unlike Dumbledore, he didn't bother to correct her usage of his title.
"You must be exhausted," Minerva interrupted, placing a hand on the woman's back to guide her into a walk.
"I am, truly. I had intended to rest on the train but I found I couldn't tear my gaze from the window long enough to do so." She smiled again and Severus wondered just how much training she had received in faking social niceties.
"One cannot fault you for that, dear. The views are quite breathtaking." She stopped at the top of the stairs, the chill of the dungeons creeping into the Great Hall, swirling about the four Professors. "Merlin, you will surely freeze to death should you take one more step dressed like that!"
Her smile faltered at last, a feat for which Severus felt some victory despite the fact that it was not the result of anything he had done. "I'm afraid I neglected to pack any robes. They don't lend well to the movements of an Arms professor."
"A problem that can be easily remedied."
With little more than a mumbled word, a freshly pressed robe appeared folded in Dumbledore's upturned palms. The elegant black teaching robe seemed to be perfectly suited for her body type, following the gentle slope of her breasts to hang in a comfortable manner, the material adding an extra layer of warmth to her attire. Severus suspected Dumbledore had added a warming charm to the clothing, as well.
"It's lovely, Albus. Thank you."
"Think nothing of it." He smiled pleasantly once more then gave a final nod as though transitioning into the next phase of some unwritten itinerary. "Severus, please show Professor Silvirin to her quarters."
Severus' voice slid through lips pursed into a forced smile. "If you would follow me, Professor, I would be pleased to escort you to your chambers."
He began to descend the winding staircase, not bothering to make certain she was following. Her cordial goodbyes and the heavy sound of her boots hitting the steps was confirmation enough.
"Did you request your quarters be in the dungeons, or did fate merely spin it that way?" Her voice carried down the old stairwell, reverberating off the stonework.
Severus' jaw clenched a bit more. Surely she wasn't quite daft enough to bait him. "I have no need for an aesthetically pleasing dwelling, and as you seem to have overlooked, potions work can be fairly dangerous. I would prefer to keep the students free from harm." He inwardly smirked at the last remark. While it was mostly true, there were a few he wouldn't mind seeing come to quite a bit of harm.
Severus had finally stepped onto even ground and was walking with a quick gait down the corridors that lead to the living quarters. Much to his displeasure, her footfalls sounded closer now. Evidently she had caught up, despite his best intention to be rid of her.
"I wasn't aware working with volatile materials could be particularly hazardous."
Was she mocking him? The last time Severus could recall being mocked was when he was a boy. He had been furious then, but maturity had since refined his composure. It was not like a snake to strike immediately after being provoked. No, he would bide his time, until she expected it wouldn't come. Then he would retaliate.
Even without searching for it, he could feel the smug satisfaction emanating from every facet of her being. She wore her emotions so openly that it first caught him off-guard. He wondered briefly if she was perhaps projecting onto him – toying with his mind – but the thought was quickly tossed aside. She was an Arms instructor and evidently a very naïve one at that.
He halted abruptly in front of the door that was to be hers, forcing her to stop in a startled daze, her face only inches from his. He could see now that her eyes were not one color, but a mix of tiny flecks all brushed together over a spherical canvas. Blues, grays, greens; the storm of color momentarily distracted him from his goal, but he was quickly reminded upon seeing the smirk that tugged at her lips.
"Do not give me reason to become your enemy, Professor. I will not hesitate to do so, should you cross me."
For the first time since arriving, Ligistra Silvirin did not try to fake an attempt at being pleasant. Her steady gaze was locked upon his, her lips pulled into a hard line. "Do not threaten me, Professor, or I will make a point of crossing you."
Before Severus was able to weigh a response, she had brushed past him and into her room, pulling the door shut behind her. For a brief moment he felt as though he were hanging upside down again, his robes falling over his face. But the moment was gone as quickly as it had arrived, replaced by a cold, calculating sense of malice. Somehow she had managed to catch him unawares, but it would not happen again. He was no longer a child, ill-equipped to handle such dealings. She would respect him, or she would fear him; he had little care as to which. But she would not humiliate him. Not now. Not ever.
The Death Eater flashbacks will return in Chapter Three: A Slow-Burning Poison as our vindictive Potions Master plans the best way to put Professor Silvirin in her place.