All's Fair; Chapter Two

Summary: Somehow surviving the last battle hasn't changed Severus Snape one bit. Now, seven years later, can the arrival of a new Charms teacher with a gift for smoothing over rough edges break down the walls he's built around his heart? SS/OC.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the storyline and Danielle Prince.

Warning: This chapter rated K+

Word Count: 2960

Waking up in a new place is easy for me. I'm a morning person. So when the sunlight first hits my eyelids, or my alarm clock goes off, or whatever it is that wakes me on that particular occasion, I can wake easily and know almost instantly where I am… so long as I wake up where I fell asleep, that is. But waking up in the large four poster bed that was now mine was still a bit strange. After all, for the past thirty-three years of my life I'd woken up on much smaller and a lot less grand beds that, no matter how expensive the mattress, never felt as good as waking up on this particular day.

I stretched and jumped out of bed, eager to get in my morning jog before breakfast. I changed quickly into my slacks and motif-ed T-shirt and set off to the front doors, waking Habberdash on my way. He swore loudly at me and I swore loudly back and moved on, feeling a tradition in the making. I walked quickly out into the crisp morning air and scanned the grounds, soon settling into a comfortable pace that kept my pulse rate up but didn't exhaust me. After twenty minutes I turned back and made my way to the main entrance, pausing a moment on the steps to catch my breath and, transfiguring a towel out of a nearby rock, I wiped my forehead and walked around in circles to slowly relax.

I stretched, satisfied with my morning work out and turned to head inside. As I stepped into the front hall I bumped into the Potions Master who seemed to have a minor seizure when he saw the slogan on my t-shirt.

'Do you really think, Danni, that a T-shirt bearing the words; 'We'll keep our cowshit in the countryside if you keep your bullshit in the city' is really appropriate?'

Was it really my fault that I laughed at the disdain in his tone when he said those words? 'Sorry, Severus, but since there are no impressionable young minds about yet, I'm sure no one will mind too much.'

'I mind.' He was positively glowering at this point.

I shrugged my shoulders and smiled apologetically. 'I won't wear it again, then,' I said easily. It was just a T-shirt. Admittedly it was a very cool T-shirt, but still. 'Now if you don't mind, I'd like to shower and change before breakfast.' I waved cheerily at him as I made my exit. I don't think I'd made a friend in him. Too bad.

Breakfast was an easy affair and I got to learn a few more names – maybe I'd know them all before the start of term. Afterwards I gave Minerva my final decision for the books my new students would need and she came to my new classroom. I was a little apprehensive about her seeing the changes, but when I finally showed her, I was glad I did.

Minerva gasped slightly and I grinned. The room still showed off its wooden panelled floor and stone walls, but I had changed the heavy wooden desks into light plastic ones that could easily be folded and stacked against the wall. The old oak chairs had also been replaced by plastic ones. The layered flooring gave the classroom a very amphitheatre-like look that I had played to my advantage by setting the centre area clear of any furniture with a thick carpet that I had already made fire-proof… just in case.

Minerva took all this in and then finally nodded her approval. It did look a bit odd – the mixture of old and new, but I figured it would be safer.

'I judge from this that you intend to do a lot of practical work?' she inquired.

'Naturally. The best way to learn is by experimentation and I think that would be safer with more movable furniture.'

'Of course. Now I'd like to go over the first year curriculum today, if that is alright by you?'

I naturally agreed and the rest of the morning was spent going over the things necessary for the first year of education. I had thought it would be tiresome, but going over these simple, easy spells was more fun than I expected. Minerva left at lunch time and I had a couple of hours to myself before Severus appeared at my door with his usual look of disgust.

'I have been informed that I must talk to you about the finer points of teaching,' he said in greeting.

'Let me guess, you write the instructions on the board, intimidate your students and spend the rest of the lesson prowling around taking points for simple mistakes?' I guessed. I had had a teacher very similar, although not quite as intimidating as him, as my Transfiguration tutor.

'I do not prowl, Miss Prince,' he snarled at me.

'Of course not. Would you like a beer?' I motioned towards my private rooms, but the potions master declined with a scowl. I shrugged and sat on the only wooden desk remaining in the classroom – mine.

'The majority of students that you will perceive coming through your door will have a complete ineptitude for your subject, and so one of the main problems you will be faced with on the first couple of days will be putting out fires.' It seemed that only then he realised the significance of the plastic furniture. Severus concealed his surprise well, but it didn't take a genius therapist to notice the flash of realisation in his eyes, or the slight raising of his eyebrows. 'You will, hopefully find at least one pupil within each class who can cast a spell without blowing something up. Exploit them. Use them to demonstrate the next task. This should encourage others to follow in their footsteps and listen to what you say. Take points to those worst at blowing things up. Rarely give points. It labels you as weak in the students' eyes.'

I listened to the man in confused amusement. He clearly didn't understand children at all. I had no doubt that his methods of teaching drew the desired results from some students, but for others he would simply terrify them beyond asking for help. And co-operation between student and teacher was key. Even I knew that much.

'When they start practical work, walk around the classroom, do not stay at the edge. This will hopefully improve their aim in fear of hitting you and make the students feel more involved in the teaching process.'

Now that was a golden nugget of information, and I stored it carefully in my mind, along with various other statements I had picked up from the teachers. I wondered whether Severus' students felt more involved when he walked around the classroom, or more scared. I bit my lip to stop myself from smiling too broadly, but it unfortunately did not escape his notice.

'What exactly do you find so amusing, Miss Prince?' he demanded.

'Merely the thought of a class feeling involved in their work when their teacher is scowling at them all the time,' I replied honestly. He considered me for a moment, scowled and continued talking, obviously oblivious to the fact I was talking about him, not me.

The rest of the week continued in this way; jog, breakfast, Minerva, lunch, break, Severus, dinner. By the end of the week I was thoroughly enjoying myself, although I didn't quite understand why. I knew all of the teachers by name and had slipped into an easy friendship with the Herbology teacher and head of Gryffindor house, Neville Longbottom. He explained over various meal times that he had started only a year previously, and that teaching got easier as you went a long, especially once you'd learnt the students' names. When I found out that he'd been at the school during the final battle, and when he found out about my underground sanctuaries, we both had dozens of questions to ask each other and conversation never grew thin.

With only a week left before the start of term Minerva and Severus left me to do my own planning of the lessons and I found myself, absurdly, growing slightly lonely without either one of them around. No, strike that, without Severus hanging around. True, he was a sour old git, but when I really got him talking about teaching I got a glimpse of the man behind the sarcastic mask. And that man was utterly bewitching.

One evening, only a couple of days before the arrival of the students I asked Neville about the Potions Master.

'Well,' Neville started, settling down in the sofa in my rooms after I'd poured each of us a glass of wine, 'he's a puzzle to us all and no mistake. I think the only person who really understands him is Harry.' I'd realised early on that Neville was a friend of the famous Harry Potter, though I asked him little about it. To be honest I was entirely uninterested in the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. Sure, I was glad he saved the world and all, but that was as far as it went. 'You know, of course, that Severus was a double agent and saved hundreds of lives with the risks he took. So far as I can tell, he became a death-eater when he was still in school but joined the Light shortly before the death of Harry's parents. He almost died in the final battle, but somehow managed to survive with only a slight limp and couple of scars. Didn't change him at all though. He used to terrify me when he was my teacher.'

I pondered this for a while. It was obvious that no one really knew Severus, and when I asked how the famous Harry Potter had come to know him, Neville merely shrugged. 'Harry doesn't really talk about it. They used to hate each other, but during the final battle something changed. They're not exactly friends now, but they're on speaking terms, which is more than anyone else is with him.'

Conversation soon turned to lighter topics, but my mind lingered a little longer on the recluse teacher. It was the next day that I decided to give Severus a little surprise visit. I'd finished preparing the first, second and third year plans and was ahead with my work so thought maybe I'd go down to the dungeons. They were one part of the school that I had yet to venture into and I was intensely curious about them – and I could also put together an experimental brew that my brother had suggested shortly before my departure. Whilst Claude was terribly inventive, when it came to potion brewing he was simply terrible.

I knocked cautiously on the door I presumed led to the main potions room and was answered by a sharp, 'Who is it?'

'Severus, I was wondering if it was possible for me to borrow one of your work stations for a couple of hours?' I enquired politely.

The Potions Master turned around in a snap and gave me a strange look, followed quickly by a sneer. 'What is it you will be making?'

'A little experiment my brother suggested,' I replied with a grin, seeing his distaste.

He sighed and turned back to his own cauldron. 'Very well. If you wish to use any of my stock, please inform me.'

I screwed up my face up and stuck my tongue out at his back before saying, casually, 'Of course, thank you.'

I opened my potions kit and quickly set about preparing the ingredients. I muttered a quick recovery spell over the cauldron before starting my little experiment, every now and then 'saving' my work. What exactly I expected from the potion I wasn't entirely sure. Claude had said something along the lines of '…cleans cuts up effectively but also smells good; I mean, is it impossible to find a decent-smelling antiseptic?' So specific. I wasn't a Healer, but I knew several different antiseptic potions that could be modified to smell better.

After having made the initial brew I stalled – what exactly counted as smelling nice? I thought about all the things I considered smelling nice – shoe polish, cut grass, hay, the sea when it wasn't infested with seaweed. None of those seemed like particularly good ideas.

'Severus,' I said several minutes later, inspiration eluding me, 'what smells nice?'

He choked for a moment and span around, his face a livelier colour than its usual sallow-ness. I realised that if ever the man was to blush, this was it. 'Smells nice?' he asked – no, demanded.

'Yeah… my brother wants an antiseptic that 'smells nice'. I don't think shoe polish exactly comes under his specifications,' I explained.

'Shoe polish?' The colour had faded from his cheeks by now and Severus raised a single eyebrow in accusation.

'Sure, shoe polish. I don't polish my shoes often, if ever, but you can't say that it doesn't smell nice.'

The corners of his mouth quirked as I said this and he turned from me and went to the many shelves stacked high with possible ingredients. He took down a couple of bottles and passed them to me, before standing back to watch sceptically as I opened them, sniffed them and wrinkled my nose. Individually they smelt disgusting, but then so did the potion. Finding it impossible to keep the grin from my face as I truly started experimenting, I didn't notice that the Potions Master did not turn back to his work.

I slipped some of the first ingredient – some sort of leaf – into the potion and it hissed, turning a disgusting puce-green colour, though the smell seemed to improve slightly. I added a tiny bit more of the leaf and although the potion turned a more agreeable colour, the smell once again worsened. Grabbing a quill I quickly noted this down and added some of the other ingredients, gaining other, varying reactions that did not seem at all encouraging. Realising I was getting nowhere with the first batch, I emptied the cauldron and tipped in one of the bottled samples. Studying my notes I made more cautious additions until I knew once again that I was getting nowhere. Half an hour later and on the fourth of the samples I had taken, I managed to get the amounts just right and the potion even turned a pleasant light blue colour. It had thickened to a cream and I bottled it in an old skin-cream bottle, rather than the glass vials I usually used. The smell was strange, tangy, but very pleasant to the nostrils and I was happy with my result.

I cleared away the rest of my things before I decided to test it, keeping my wand at the ready. I made a small cut on the palm of my hand and gently rubbed in a little of the lotion. Prepared for it to sting, I was surprised when it didn't. I was further surprised when the wound began to heal before my eyes. I grinned – of course! The leafy substance Severus had given me must have been Tremadour. I looked up to see the person of my thoughts watching me carefully.

'Do you often test your potions on yourself?' he asked.

'Nope. But it was only an antiseptic cream and none of the ingredients are poisonous. I trusted that you hadn't given me something with unfortunate side-effects.' This time, when I went over my notes and wrote down the exact recipe I had used, I couldn't help but notice his gaze on me. 'There,' I said finally, 'I'm done.'

'You certainly have a certain… skill when it comes to potions.'

Was that a compliment? A voice in my head wolf whistled and I laughed inwardly. 'Thanks. And thank you for the Tremadour, Clover and, was it… Beostone Powder?'

Again with the quirk of the lips. 'Passable as smelling nice?'

'Passable,' I agreed, a smile appearing on my face. 'Would you like some of the cream?' I asked suddenly, noticing that he appeared to have a dark cut on the palm of his left hand.

'No doubt with the Tremadour one application will be sufficient,' he said, good mood instantly evaporated.

I nodded silently and opened the jar again, scooping some of the cream out with a forefinger. 'Well, give me your hand then,' I said impatiently.

'I am perfectly capable of doing it myself,' he replied in tones that could freeze water. Being human I'm only 75% water, and I glared back at him until he finally stretched forth his hand.

I cupped his hand in mine and, using my other hand, gently massaged the cream into the cut. I felt his hand relax in mine as I applied it and couldn't stop a victorious little smirk cross my features. When I was done, I held his hand a moment longer than necessary, watching as the skin slowly healed over.

'See now, that didn't hurt, did it?' I asked gently.

'Surprisingly, no,' he answered, his voice no longer cold, but back to its usual sneer.

I didn't offer a reply as I let go of his hand and turned back to collect my remaining things. I thanked him again and bid him farewell thinking that, really, if the man would just get a little more colour in his cheeks he could be very attractive. I paused in my thinking there, wondering what he looked like in jeans. Tight jeans. I doubted if there were many who shared my curiosity, but I held no doubt that Severus could clean up very nicely if he ever bothered to clean up. Now that was an idea.

Written: Unknown
Chances of continuation: nil

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Much love,
Cal