Chapter Eight: Lessons Taught

The next morning Buffy woke early, unused to and unable to sleep for long stretches of time. She slipped into the kitchen just as the sun was rising and contemplated sneaking out for some time alone when Snape appeared in the doorway behind her.

"Good you're awake. Since I've had no luck convincing Dumbledore that this arrangement is in no way profitable, I plan to work you to the bone. You will be ready and waiting every morning at this hour to begin your lessons. If I'm going to catch you up we're doing it the right way. There will be no skimping or glossing over the material," Snape's expression never changed throughout his entire speech, lucky because otherwise Buffy might have thought he was joking.

"That is the most I have ever heard you say. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were excited to teach me," she teased.

"Then it is a good thing you know better." Buffy's smirk fell a bit here. "Follow me," Severus commanded and left without a backward look.

He spent the morning teaching her Potions. It was something he didn't have to be completely alert for and a bit like her muggle Chemistry. He felt that History of Magic and Potions would be good transition classes to work her into the magical world.

What he didn't know was that Buffy could have just as easily done Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, or Charms. In fact, Buffy felt that all the other courses would have been easier. History and Chemistry had not been the focus of her high school career. When she had shown up to class, she was bored out of her mind and totally distracted. With all the spells she, Giles, and Willow had done, the slayer felt she could grasp the concepts quite easily. For DADA, evil stays the same; only the names change. Buffy wasn't going to speak out about it though for several reasons. One, she really did need to work on her Potions and History more thoroughly. Two, she felt that Snape would refuse to teach her should she question his judgment this early on. Three, it was fun to watch the little vein in his forehead swell every time her cauldron blew due to her incorrectly following his instructions.

By midday, Buffy had grown tired of messing things up purposely and had begun to make real headway into her studies. Snape found that she was progressing faster than he expected and had to repress a growing fondness for her. The girl asked intelligent questions, found reasonable links to her other courses of study, and had no fear of his watching over her shoulder. She was almost an ideal pupil save her incessant need to make some sarcastic or jaunty remark.

After she completed another nearly perfect potion, Snape allowed Buffy a break for some food. He decided that they would start into history when lunch was over. Unlike earlier, the kitchen was brimming with people now. It was a funny site to see Draco sit so stiffly between Remus and Tonks. Apparently he wasn't quiet comfortable yet surrounded by Aurors and professors. He smiled slightly at her entrance but then quickly fell into a disinterested mask when he saw Snape behind her.

"How are your lessons going Buffy?" Remus asked.

"They're going pretty well. I haven't blown anything up in hours," the blonde giggled and slid into a chair across from him.

"I bet you're excited to start doing spells. You are a natural I'm sure."

"A natural because Dumbledore is her father you mean?" Snape mocked.

"No, a natural because she already does wandless magic!" Remus rose to her defense, speaking before actually thinking it through.

A silence permeated the kitchen as most of its occupants stared in shocked fascination at the petite blonde slayer in their midst. Dumbledore and Remus had agreed to keep that little piece of information about Buffy to themselves for the time being. It was very rare trait indeed that a witch or wizard could do magic without a wand, and never in one so young.

"So…Professor Snape I think that it's time to get back to my studies right?" Buffy was in no mood to explain about her life and her abilities to a room full of people. She felt like that old nightmare where you walk into school only to notice you're naked. She didn't want to be the female Harry Potter. The boy got more scrutiny than any Hollywood star. In Sunnydale if she did something extraordinary or something strange went down the town ignored it. She didn't think she'd be so lucky here.

Surprisingly enough Snape played along with her and hustled her out of the kitchen threatening the others not to interrupt his teaching. "Distractions only lead to disasters," were his last grumbled words on his way out.

Once they were ensconced in a room again, Snape reverted to a less than forgiving professor. "Why didn't you tell me you've been performing magic?"

"It hadn't come up yet?"

The Slytherin house-master merely growled. "There are laws!"

"Those don't apply to me!" She shouted over him. "You've wanted to teach DADA for so long I'm sure you've come across The Slayer. Well that's me – The Chosen One. It must be a thrill for you being surrounded by two kids you think are positively annoying but are the only ones who can save the world."

The anger had drained out of Severus' face, replaced by a soft look of near pity. The Slayer was a legend that had fascinated him endlessly in his youth. Even now, the tales of young women fighting to their deaths pulled at a side of him that people seldom see. He'd lived a hard life and closed his emotions off to keep his soul intact. It was a rare occasion that he let something slip through the walls he'd put in place.

"How long?" He whispered.

Buffy didn't even try to fake misunderstanding. "Three years."

Then Severus Snape did something he hadn't done in more than a decade. He squeezed the girl's shoulder in an attempt of comfort.