A/N: Rosie belongs to me; all else belongs to JK Rowling. Suggestions are always welcome

A huge thank you to missastoria for being my very first review! You rock!

Chapter 3

Dusk fell quickly on Sunday and Rosie found herself in the lounge, catching up on the grading she'd been unable to accomplish over the weekend. Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout sat throughout the room, the scratching of quills on parchment the only audible noise. Rosie sighed, rubbing her eyes, twelve-year-old children really did have the worst handwriting. As she took a sip of her tea, Charity came bursting through the door and took a seat beside her.

"You're boyfriend is so, charming!" Charity squealed, placing her hands over her mouth.

"You think so?" Rosie replied with displeasure.

"Yes! He's so handsome and funny! You're so lucky!"

Rosie laughed under her breath as she shook her head, turning her attention back to the stack of parchment in front of her.

"I'm not trying to intrude! Just complimenting you!" Charity added nervously.

"I know," Rosie sighed, rolling her eyes, "Look Charity, I have a lot of work to do I'm going to head back to my office. I'll see you later."

Charity opened her mouth to protest but Rosie gathered her work and stood up quickly, before Charity had the opportunity to speak. She quickly retreated from the lounge, slamming into a man as she rounded the corner. She gave a muffled scream as her parchments went flying, cascading down like snow.

"I, I'm s-so s-sorry!" she stuttered, afraid to peer up to see who exactly she had collided with, although she had a fairly good idea.

"Do you have eyes, Professor, or is it too bright in here for you to see properly," Severus spat, stacking her scattered papers in a neat pile with a sharp wave of his wand.

"I'm sorry, Severus, I, I was in a hurry and, I, I can see just fine I assure you..." she blabbered as she picked herself back up, "I'm so sorry, thank you, for collecting, stacking these, picking up-"

"Hmph," he snorted as he stepped around her, the corner of his robes whipping against her leg.

"Uh, um Professor! I was wondering if you could do me a favor…" she asked cautiously, turning slowly to face him.

He had stopped dead in his tracks, but did not turn around. Even though she could not see his face, he exuded annoyance and impatience. He said nothing, but didn't walk away, giving her the impression he was listening.

"I need some potions, made. I was always bloody awful and I would probably blow up the entire Astronomy Tower if I tried to brew them myself-" she rambled before he cut her off.

"What, exactly is it you need?" he urged, breaking her nonsensical prattling.

"I need, Draught of Peace."

"Draught of Peace, students causing you that much distress, Professor?" he replied as he turned around to face her, one eyebrow raised, "I suppose I could ask one of my 5th year students to do it, I'm sure one of them have the competence to brew it."

His words eroded her already crumbling confidence, causing her breath to intake sharply. She closed her eyes, ashamed of asking him, embarrassed for thinking that just this once he would show a flicker of kindness.

"That would be wonderful, thank you," she replied quietly after regaining as much composure as she could muster.

"They'll be ready by tomorrow evening. I trust, you know, where my office is?"

"Yes."

He eyed her up and down before placing the usual scowl back on his face. She kept her eyes transfixed on a small crack in the stone floor, she could relate to the feeling of being broken and marred, nothing more than eyesore in a perfect world. She saw his head tilt to the side, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion and curiosity as he watched her.

"Thank you again sir, I'll see you tomorrow evening," she said sweetly, turning her gaze back to him, her vapid eyes giving away her true emotion.

As he looked into her eyes, he saw a familiar sight. They were the eyes of someone fighting an inner battle unbeknownst to the outside world. He saw the same lackluster gaze he saw in the mirror everyday embodied in hers. His facial expression softened as he studied them, feeling a small amount of empathy for her. She gave him a small smile, the change in expression breaking his stare, her mask put back into place. He nodded before swiftly turning and striding away, his robes sweeping behind him.

Rosie took off quickly towards her room, her mind racing. As soon as she'd closed the door she slid down to the floor, curling her knees to her chest. She sighed, throwing her head back against the door, her face heating up, tears waiting to escape her unwilling eyes. She sat quietly as she rewound the events of the evening in her mind. As she reminisced she swore she heard footsteps stop outside of her door. She was startled quickly by a rapping on her window, her family's owled hovering outside, a letter in his beak.

Hey there Rosie Bug!

Hope you're enjoying the new job! I know you're probably doing just wonderfully. I can't wait to hear all about it. Things here are good. Still getting used to everything. I don't know why you magic folk can't just use a telephone! Your mum always handled that stuff. Hope to see you at Christmastime! I know your dog misses you, and so do I.

Love, Dad

She shook her head as she folded the small scrap of paper and placed it in a desk drawer. She quickly scrawled a response:

Hey Dad,

Yeah, the new job is good. It's nice to be back here on the other end now. Telephone's are for Muggles dad! If you need something quicker there's always the floo network. Just throw some of that powder by the fire in and stick your head in there! I know how much you'd love that. Of course I'll be home at Christmas, wouldn't miss it. Give Apollo a kiss for me!

Love you too, Rosie.

She worked on grading throughout the night, forcing herself to stay awake until the early morning. Even when she did try to sleep it was restless, waking every hour, tossing and turning. She gave up at noon, deciding it'd be more worthwhile to go get lunch than continue trying to attain the impossible, a decent stretch of uninterrupted sleep. As she was making her way down the stairs she was stopped by the most unlikely of people.

"Hello Professor Petra, how are you this morning?" Dumbledore asked cheerfully, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Good afternoon Headmaster. I'm doing well, how about yourself?" Rosie replied nervously, as kind as Dumbledore was, talking to him was still nerve wracking.

"Oh just fine, just fine. Are you settling in well then?

"Oh yes, everyone has been very friendly and accommodating, students and staff."

"Good, good. One of the staff members seemed to have a little concern for you, so I just thought I would check in."

"Oh, was it Charity, because my little outburst last night was really quite out of character for me-"

"No, no. It was nothing in particular. Nothing to be concerned of my dear! Now, I assume you were on your way to the Great Hall?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, I won't hold you up any longer, have a good day Professor."

"Thank you sir, you as well."

With a small wink Dumbledore turned and began his way down the spiraling stairs, leaving Rosie to wonder who had gone to Dumbledore about her. She contemplated different answers as she made her way to the Great Hall, but could come to no conclusion. She'd had very little interaction with the staff, which left very few options and even fewer circumstances that could have warranted concern from anyone.

Before long it was 5:00 in the evening and time to retrieve her potions from the dungeons. The thought of seeing Severus both scared and excited Rosie, the butterflies in her stomach fretting more and more as the minutes passed by. She took a deep breath, taking one last look in the mirror before walking out the door.