Chapter 2 – The Reacquainting

Alana smiled to herself as she paced down the dimly lit corridor. The expression on his face had been priceless and although she had not taken the job with him in mind, she could not deny the feeling of some kind of retribution within her. He really had looked horrified upon seeing her walk into her classroom, as unbelievable that it was that he should show any kind of fear. Perhaps it wasn't fear. Alana had never been good at reading him. Perhaps it had been rage. Or disgust.

She didn't know why she was thinking about it really.

It was late evening and after the old Headmaster had done his bit by introducing her around, parading her like a shiny toy – her and the other new teachers that was – she had to make her excuses and go to bed.

Her face had fallen when she discovered it was Snape who'd made the arrangements for her room. She hadn't planned no speaking to him all that much his year. As impossible as that would be.

But the more she thought about it, the more Alana began to realise the benefits of working alongside him. She was no longer a student and so he couldn't treat her the way he might of five years ago. Ha! Alana thought, with a grin as the sound of her footsteps echoed on the stone pavings. I can say what I damn well like, and there's nothing he can do about it. The thought amused her but she was older now, and she certainly wouldn't practise that.

Reaching out to knock on the office door, she hesitated for a few seconds but, deciding to bite the bullet and that they would have to talk sometime, Alana brought her knuckles down onto the wood in a few quick knocks. No reply. She bit her lip and wondered if she should go in. Maybe he didn't hear her knock. It was still his office, whether she was faculty or not. Her weariness won it in the end; Alana twisted the door knob and stuck her head around the door.

"Professor Snape?" she called out, slipping into the room. The room was barely illuminated by a muted light, coming from a few candles. She was surprised his office wasn't heavily password protected and guarded by some kind of beast. His desk, much like the one in the dungeons, was cluttered with reams of parchment and books. Beside the fireplace, which contained a few dying embers, were two squashy armchairs; the rich fabric beaten and hammered with age. There was a dark oak door with a large lock on it. She supposed that must be the door that led to his private chambers. Alana ambled over to his desk, looking about, expecting him to emerge from a dark corner any second.

Snape slammed the office door to make his presence known. Walking into his office and finding her standing near his desk examining an ornament with a curious expression was nothing short of an annoying invasion. She jumped, looked up, and put it down.

"Miss..." he paused and corrected himself. "Professor Cross...what in Merlin's name are you doing in here?" he asked with a biting tone. "And why are you touching my things?"

She looked sheepish but, as if composing herself, straightened her back and took a deep breath. "I was looking for you. Professor Dumbledore says it was you who made my accommodation arrangements. I'm tired and I'd like to know where my room is." Her voice was clipped and professional; he supposed he had bruised her pride already by making her jump.

Snape furrowed his brow and nodded. In his office? And she'd barely been a teacher five minutes. The audacity of it, Snape thought. He gestured to the door and looked at her as if to tell her to get out. She nodded and proceeded to walk out, brushing past him and into the corridor.

It was odd, walking beside her again and not knowing what to say. He had managed to get over the strong feelings he had for her, but still it was uncomfortable to have her near him once again. Alana looked at him and smiled. "Are you well?"

"Yes," he answered curtly.

"You haven't changed much."

"You have," he said honestly. Last time he had seen her, she had been a young woman, young nonetheless but now...now she was a very beautiful twenty-something and he didn't know what to make of it. She intimidated him and that was not a feeling he liked. In fact, he found that he liked very little about this new Alana.

"I never suspected you would teach," he said shortly. "As I recall, we were unsure what was going to happen after you left."

She looked cross for a moment. "Oh, you mean France."

"Yes."

"I didn't go in the end."

A few third years ran by, laughing. Alana looked at her feet and she looked so downcast, he didn't press the issue, though the curiosity was burning. "This is it," Snape said, changing the subject, and pointing to a wooden door. "Your things should be inside." He pulled a key from his robes. "This is the key for it, don't lose it." Alana raised an eyebrow, but responded with a smirk. Opening the door for her, he gestured inside to a fairly large study – the office part of her lodgings.

"The room is adjoined to your chambers," he said gruffly, throwing the key on to the desk. "The house elves take care of cleaning as you well know. And don't forget your robes when you're teaching," he added with a sneer looking at her outfit. She suddenly felt exposed and crossed her arms.

"Thank you Professor," she replied calmly. He didn't reply, but turned with a sweep of his robes and headed for the door.

"I would advise you charm the room immediately, lest some precocious student tries to give you some form of welcoming gift," he said blankly.

She gave a little nod of thanks and watched as her closed the door, shutting her into her new home. Sighing she sat down in the armchair, not dissimilar from his own. That hadn't been so bad after all, in the scheme of things.

****

Breakfast was the time of day Severus Snape most detested, and he especially hated it at Hogwarts. Perhaps it was the fact he wasn't a morning person; he would often stay up late and muse over his theories and notes, but everyone else seemed alive and chirpy first thing at the Wizarding School and it really irritated him. Even the teenagers, who were supposed to hate mornings, were loud. And yet, Albus insisted that everyone joined for breakfast, unless there was a special reason – more than likely due to his obsession with 'unity' and 'togetherness' when really, Severus Snape had not wish to be together or united with anyone.

The top table where the professors sat was elongated this year, to allow for the extra people sat at it – a move by Dumbledore that had not gone under huge gossip and speculation. The school had never had more than one teacher per subject before, and now, most of the subjects had two.

"Good morning," Minerva said to him as she brushed by to her usual seat. He nodded in her direction and continued spreading some butter upon some already cold toast. The empty chair beside him slid back and out of the corner of his eye he saw Alana's thin frame sit down and tuck herself in.

"Good morning," she said cheerily, reaching for some orange juice. He gave it a few seconds before he acknowledged her at all, and when he did it was just the same nod he had extended to everyone else. He hadn't realised how entirely awkward it might be working with her; after all, there was no denying that there had been an attraction between them five years ago, although no doubt there was not on now. At least not on his part – he could hardly speak for Alana. He wished he could just stop thinking about it, but he seemed doomed to have it on his mind. Still, Snape was sure that would pass with time. And if not, perhaps he could poison her.

"I trust your room was comfortable," he said after a while, just to be polite. He pushed his plate away from him and it vanished.

"Yes," she smiled. "I'd forgotten how comfortable Hogwarts was in general." Snape kept his musings about "damn sentimentality" to himself.

"If you'll excuse me," he said coldly, rising. "I shall see you at dinner." She looked up at him and smiled; a strange smile that only turned the corners of her mouth up as if she were fighting the urge to laugh.

"Of course, Severus," she said quietly. He clenched his jaw and held her stare.

"You're still an insufferable chit, Professor Cross," he muttered, and swooped away, leaving Alana in a smug humour.

**************

"Class, settle down," Alana said with a calm authority. The students did as she asked, because she was a young teacher and new to the school, so no one knew quite what to expect. If they'd have had any sense or half the boredom in their lives as Muggle children, they would have tested the waters. However, they sat down as she asked, and pulled out their textbooks and waited for her to give an indication to what they could look forward to with her for the next year.

Alana swallowed hard. She hadn't anticipated feeling as nervous as this but it was a small blessing that she hadn't had any trouble from them yet. No doubt Snape would love that; her having to call him in on her first day. No, she was determined to have control of her classes from the offset and without hateful tactics. Someone was snickering at the back of the class. She narrowed her eyes. However, some tactic might have to be used.

"Turn to page nine of your textbooks, and I'll make sure you're all here first years," she smiled at them. "And Malfoy Jr," she said, casting her gaze over to corner at the blonde boy whispering to his friends. He glanced up with a cocky smile, but behind his eyes was an unnamed wavering emotion.

"Yes, Professor?" he said coyly, with a polite smile.

"Lucius Malfoy raised you, am I correct?" she said in a low voice. He nodded dumbly.

"I've heard a lot of good things from him about you." The boy started in surprise. "You see, I know Lucius very well, and also your cousin Draco. Sadly we've not spoken in some time, your guardian and I, but I'm looking for areason to contact him." She gave him a friendly smile and some time for him to contemplate her warning. "Don't let that reason be a report of your bad behaviour," she said quietly, continuing her smile.

He nodded. "Yes, professor."

She breathed in and exhaled happily, tapping his desk with her wand as she moved away. "Excellent. Page nine, please." She knew the boy wouldn't want to upset Lucius. With the ringleader taken down, and desperately not trying to put a foot wrong, she shouldn't have any trouble from the rest of the Slytherins. This year was going to be blissful.

**********

Something was terribly wrong.

Snape had stalked past the dungeons in which Alana was teaching and heard something most disturbing. If it had been a cry perhaps, or a shriek, he might have let her deal with it by herself. After all, she had decided to become a professor, and she would have to deal with that foolhardy decision. However, the noise prickled Severus' ears and he faltered.

Laughter.

"What in Merlin's name is going on in here?" he said loudly as he pushed open the dungeon door to a classroom full of students. An abrupt silence fell as thirty pairs of eyes looked upon him and his enraged countenance.

"Professor Snape," Alana said, smiling and trying not to laugh also. "It's...er...called learning." She gestured for them to pack away their things and leave. "Thank you class!" she said cheerfully.

"It sounds as if you were having the Yule Ball early," he said deliberately and through gritted teeth, staring at her.

"Well perhaps you need to attune your ears to what fun sounds like, Professor. It is possible to combine learning and fun," she replied with a smile that did not match her eyes. "We were discussing the effects of the Whistling Draught, which all of my students have successfully concocted. I'm sure you know it well," she added stiffly and calmly.

He looked around the room at the horrified faces. "All of them?" he said sceptically, moving closer to hiss at her more privately.

"Yes," Alana hushed back. "All of them. You sound surprised. It's a simple potion; I thought your first years would have no problem with such a menial task."

"You got a good batch," he said in a low voice. "Dumbledore obviously decided to give you an easier bunch of reprobates and me the more difficult group, knowing I could handle them, and you," he said venomously with a sweeping look at her stance, "could not."

"Or perhaps they were able to complete the potion successfully because they weren't terrified out of their minds by a cantankerous, bitter man who saw fit to breathe down their necks because that's the only way he could control them." Her eyebrow rose up at the end to finish her speech. "I've treated them as humans, and they've done well. Maybe you should try that," she spat quietly.

All the class could here were hushed whispers pointedly and quickly exchanging between the two, until Snape's face grew ashen and he looked at her with real hatred.

"We'll discuss this later," he said a little louder. "I have a class to go to." He caught some of them staring. "I believe you were told to go," he said vehemently at a first year who was watching them. She scampered off, and he slammed the dungeon door after her. Alana sighed, and rubbed her jaw. She really needed to control her temper, especially where Snape was concerned.