A/N- Well, here is the next chapter, as promised. :) Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer- I own only one character, and that is Elhys Capivah. The rest are spied on, kidnapped, tortured, obliviated and then kindly returned to the person who does own them.

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Chapter 14- A New Trick

He watched her as she wordlessly went about her current task. She wouldn't have known that he was watching her though, considering the fact that he had retired -momentarily- to his own personal quarters. He currently sat in a very large, cushy chair in front of The Mirror of Capivah. At least, that is what he called it, as the mirror had once belonged to the former Headmaster of the school. All he had to do was stand before it and he could see the miscellaneous things that went on within the school. It was how he knew when, where and how things were going to happen around the school most of the time. His friend Albus, was simply eerie about the things he knew sometimes, he on the other hand, cheated, making others think that he could use legilimency at a far distance.

It was a forbidden object, much like the Mirror of Erised. It had been long forgotten, and he still did not know its true name. Every time he looked within he remembered the one who had oddly given it to him. Elhys Capivah, former Headmistress of Hogwarts, no matter how short her term had been, cryptically beautiful and just as conniving as one of the Fates themselves. He sometimes wondered if she had been one. She had told him of its hiding place when he had only been a first year, and though he did not find it until he began his tenure as part of the staff within the castle, it had been precisely where she had said it was. It made him wonder why he had not looked for it sooner. The mirror allowed for a clear sight of anything that was going on within a three-mile radius, perfect for stalking the unaware students of the institution where he worked; the perfect armament to keep them in line. If the fear he struck in at least one of the students kept them out of trouble, then it was worth it.

So he watched. He watched as she gracefully cut the ingredients, perfectly on time in precise movements. He silently mused over the fact that she would in fact make a good Potions Mistress when the time came for it. But in the meantime…

He suddenly remembered his talk with Minerva earlier. How dare the woman come to him and offer advice to him of all people. Damnable woman. To spite himself he mocked her within his mind. Do be considerate of her, Severus. The happier she is, the better she will work, you know. Bah.

Except he knew that the words were the truth. Merlin be damned, but the girl actually liked to study. She was as odd as he had been at her age. And there was that thought again, for the millionth time within the last seven years- had she been in Slytherin, she would have been a female version of himself. Somehow, in the back of his mind, he was glad that she had been sorted into the house that she had. He also envied her for that as well. She had friends. He had never really had one until Albus…

Bloody hell. He hadn't realized consciously that he had been reflecting about the past until that moment. He scoffed at himself and decided to begin his new little 'experiment'- if one could really call it that. He eyed the almost clear amber liquid in the glass next to him. He didn't like drinking, but it had to be done, for the sake of the experiment. It was the only way to… Well, one of the only ways to perform his little test. The other way was unthinkable. No, he would never touch that particular substance, just as he had told Poppy, Albus, his Mother and the Dark Lord himself. Never, no matter how much his life was staked on the option. It was hard enough to keep control of his darker urgings under the influence of alcohol; he did not even wish to ponder what he might do if under the influence of that.

As he watched her slowly add the eighth part of finely grated mandrake root into the potion, he took a sip. A very tiny sip of excessively watered down rum, hoping that it would be enough for what he wanted to do.

The liquid sweetly went down his throat and he repressed a shiver from the pleasure that suddenly coursed through his veins at the presence of the liquid. A thirst burst from his mind, and he fought to control it. He grimaced. Yes, that would be enough for what he wanted.

Finely, after making his lip bleed during his fight to keep control, he turned back to the mirror. He could read her lips as she silently counted the number of times she needed to stir the mixture. 13, 14, 15… It was almost time... She finished the seventeenth counter-clockwise stroke, switched directions for one singular stroke, and promptly lifted the spoon from the cauldron. She placed the spoon next to the cauldron and went to go get something to read. She soon picked up something, carried it back towards the cauldron, and sat down across from it, probably so that she would have the ability to watch the cauldron for the next three hours or so that remained before the next step.

He touched the mirror where she appeared within, clearing his mind of all distractions. If it were going to work, then he would need to fully concentrate on the girl. He smirked as he thought of exactly what to do, and concentrated on his task.

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Hermione had returned to the library earlier to find a book for her to read during the first forty-five minute pass of time as the potion had simmered. She had not been there long when she had found an interesting title mixed in with a few fantasy stories. The Complete Gathering of failed Potions Apprenticeships- A Basic Outlook.

When she first saw it, she immediately snatched it off of the shelf. Perhaps it would lead her to the answers that she so craved about a few of the things that plagued the back of her mind, other than the ruddy Potions Master himself of course. The first had been about Ron's uncle- and the second had been the strange desire to want to know more about her Master's apprenticeship.

When she had begun to read it, she knew why it had been hidden. It simply was not one to be read with a light heart. It spoke of rape, torture, murder, poison, and utter madness. Her mouth had gone dry as she read them, forcing her to see why everyone had been shocked to see her apply for such an apprenticeship. Most of what she had read so far had been from the lesser, 'kinder' Masters. She wondered in morbid curiosity how Severus' Master had been, considering only one of his students had reached Mastery, and that had only been in the man's death. She shivered at the thought.

Just as she was about to read about an apprentice from Spain, her hand, of its own volition, grabbed the page she was reading, tore it out of the book, crumpled it up, and threw it across from her- where she heard a sickening 'plop'. No! Why… How… SHE HAD NOT MEANT TO DO THAT! She quickly dropped the book and rushed to her cauldron. No, no, no, no, no… She let loose a silent scream as she looked inside. The paper had landed in it, right smack dab in the bloody middle of it, and a nasty brown color was beginning to seep from it into the still brewing potion.

It was ruined. Snape was going to kill her. No, scratch that, he was going to laugh at her, mock her, and then inform her that he had been correct after all. Bloody hell. It was ruined! If her voice had been working at that point, she would have screamed so loud that everyone occupying Hogwarts would have heard her. Instead, she decided on throwing herself a small, private temper tantrum, jumping up and down and then gave the lab table a very nasty punch.

She let out a sob. Why couldn't she ever prove herself to him? She had tried, and now… Now she had ruined the potion, and she honestly couldn't remember why she had thrown it. It was as if… as if she had absolutely no control over her own arm. As if she had no control to stop it. That thought alone terrified her. She sunk to her knees, feeling completely defeated for the moment. Hermione Granger never failed anything. Ever. Yet, sitting in front of her was a completely useless potion, and because of this, her Master was going to be furious. Not because she failed, no, she was positive that he would be outright giddy on that point, but that one; she had just ruined one of his personal books, and two; she had unnecessarily wasted two whole succubus tears. They were expensive and very hard to find unless you knew where to get them, and the only way to learn that was to know a private black arts dealer. Not a very fun matter, really.

Suddenly the door slammed open, allowing a certain greasy black entity to enter the room, looking entirely livid. He stopped in front of her abruptly, narrowing his eyes at her and then shifting them coolly towards the potion. His face twisted into an amused smirk. Well, at least she had gotten that part of his reaction correctly.

He looked back down to her. "I see that you have… irreparably damaged your potion, Miss Granger. Tisk tisk. You should revel in the fact that even you can fail at something. I was expecting something more… subtle than this, but I suppose anyone could simply mess up the timing. But this… This atrocity is not to be tolerated. Throwing a page of a book that is not even yours into a potion that is not even done. You do realize that in your brash attempt with madness you wasted two succubus tears?" He turned from her, picking up the book she had been reading and tossed it to her. "I believe you were reading this. I believe that I am finished… For now. Clean up your catastrophe, and you may have the rest of the day off, considering there is no time to even try to meet your deadline. You will resume tomorrow after breakfast." He walked to the door, paused within its frame as he tossed back at her, "Oh, and Miss Granger?" She looked up at him.

"Due to your improper behavior, purposefully ruining a potion that until that stage had been perfect and the undue damage of personal property, I am going to add four more days to your punishment. Do try and have a good day, Miss Granger. I do not desire a repeat of this tomorrow." He then left, softly closing the door behind him.

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He barely even made it into his quarters before he broke down and laughed outright. The look of confusion on the girl's face had made the joke all the sweeter. If she had known that she had not done anything, she probably would have killed him. Actually, that had been the reason that he had let her off as easily he did.

His experiment had worked. The connection was there. He drew his mouth up into a small tight smile. That would make his job easier, the ability to make her do things like that. She would never have the ability to actually catch him 'red handed' at slipping things into her cauldron as she worked. He had blamed her for the succubus tears, but he didn't really care. He had twenty-three bottles of the stuff, and each one contained at least one hundred tears in it. He was in absolutely no fear of running out any time soon, especially when one took into heart that no known recorded potion ever required more than five. Of course, he was not about to let her know that particular secret.

Nor would she find out his other secrets just yet. The girl was only halfway to solving the puzzle of the frame, and he wasn't going to allow the girl to learn anything about his apprenticeship. At least, not just yet… It was too… Too… He pursed his lips together in an attempt to figure out what the emotion was that was attached to that sentiment. After a moment, he settled on 'painful', but knew that there was more to it than that. Much more.

He sat down at his desk, opening a drawer as he did. He gingerly took out three pieces of paper and skimmed until he found the name that rested often inside of his head. The only other apprentice of his Master's that he had ever met. Valkyrie Monroe.

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A/N- If you can guess what Snape is descended from by what I have said in this chapter, I will have to praise you, and pour onto you many house points. In the meantime, please review; it is ever appreciated.