All's Fair; Chapter Four

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: 3120

4: Black Magic

The next morning I woke extremely early and wasted no time in getting up. I changed quickly into jog bottoms and another slogan t-shirt (this one proudly declaring that 'Strangers have the best candy,') and set off as usual for my morning jog. So what if this one lasted a little longer and I ran a little faster than usual? I got back at the same time as I usually did, but didn't bother to catch my breath on the steps. I moved straight up to my rooms and quickly stepped under the flow of hot water pouring from the shower head. I leant my forearms against the wall, resting my forehead against my clenched fists. A sudden, violent wave of nausea hit me and rushed to the toilet, retching dryly. Moments later and the feeling was quickly gone. I shook my head at my nerves and stepped back into the shower.

I changed quickly into a soft lavender silk shirt and loose smart black trousers, wondering silently if they were what a teacher might wear. I had never taken any notice of what my tutors at school had worn, and it was only now that I wished I had. I ran a brush quickly through my brown hair and tossed it into a butterfly clip before applying a quick brush of make up and making my way down to the Great Hall. I saw with some satisfaction that I was one of the first to get there. I sat down in my seat and helped myself to a full English breakfast, hoping that my sickness had been merely the nerves and wouldn't come back to relieve me of this new meal.

I turned to Georgia Sampstead, the current Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who was sat next to me and we soon settled into easy conversation.

'The first day is easy and hard in equal measures,' she said practically. Georgia was not one who would lie to spare someone's feelings. 'The students are going to be tired from staying up half the night last night, but also overexcited at seeing their friends again. Who do you have first?'

'Hufflepuff and Slytherin first years,' I said.

'Oh, well, you have an easy start, then,' she said calmly. 'First years are terrified the first week, so you shouldn't have too much trouble controlling them. The other years are more demanding, but I'm sure you'll get used to it really quickly – you'll soon know who the troublemakers are, at any rate.'

I grinned at her wry expression and conversation soon turned to books we'd read recently, and we were playfully debating how much of the author was portrayed in their characters when I felt a dark presence enter the room. Looking up I realised that the Hall was now half full, though I hadn't noticed, but the one thing that really drew my attention was the Potions Master sweeping his way down the centre aisle. The words that I had been about to say died on my tongue as his steely gaze met mine. I arched an eyebrow at him and flashed him a mischievous smile before turning away and continuing my conversation. My companion, who had noticed the exchange, merely shot me a questioning glance which I did not deign to respond to.

Some fifteen minutes later, when the Great Hall was full and most of the students present, the mail arrived. A huge flurry of wings and moving bodies as owls delivered letters from worried parents enquiring after the entirely uneventful train journey. I had not expected anything, so when a small brown parcel accompanied by a letter were plonked unceremoniously in front of me by my family's lofty screech owl, I was mildly surprised – and a little pleased.

I tore open the letter first, wondering who would have sent me mail.

Sis, - ah, so it was from Claude.

First day of a new job today for you, then. Good luck, Dan, you're gonna need it! That ex-wanker of yours was apparently caught by the girl's parents. Janie says his face was priceless when he was scolded like a five year old by them! She and the girls all wish you good luck, too. My friends, on the other hand, all want to know if you can get the famous Harry Potter's autograph. I tried telling them he graduated seven years ago, but you know those guys are decades behind the rest of us.

Mum's still not sure how to feel about your new job. Although she's had some ripe things to say about your ruined relationship; she reckoned he was going to pop the question soon. All I could say to that was that he certainly popped something. I don't think she quite understood this. Anyway, she said to pass on her hugs and kisses and that she'd write soon, as she's going on tour with some fellow amateur water-colourists.

You might enjoy the little something that Janie made for you – it's in the package. It's more pretty then practical, but she guessed that you'd want to personalise your rooms ASAP.

Your ever-loving little brother,

Claude xxx

PS How are you doing with that sweet-smelling antiseptic? Any luck yet?

I smiled to myself, hearing my brother's lilting Welsh accent in my mind as I read the letter silently. Janie, his bouncy blushing bride of five months now, had made such an effort to get her family-in-law to like her she even broke down my mum's defences. Which really was saying something. I put the letter to one side and turned eagerly to the package, weighing it in my hands before I attacked the string holding the paper together. After the initial awkward introductions Janie and I had got on like a house on fire and we both had very similar tastes in home décor.

The brown paper slipped away to reveal what looked very akin to a crystal ball. The light, see-through sphere had a slice chopped away from the bottom of it, and I could see it was supposed to be a paperweight. This brought to my mind fond memories of my late father, who had a shelf on one of the bookcases in his study devoted entirely to paperweights. As my thoughts shifted, the cloudy ball suddenly showed an image. I brought it up to eye height and gazed into it. From the swirling clouds appeared a face, which quickly formed into that of my father; right down to his small, affectionate brown eyes and cropped blonde hair that he had always complained got in his eyes, though he never did anything about it.

With a small smile I put the paperweight aside. Janie had cleverly engineered it to reflect the main object of the holder's thoughts. It was a complex spell that was fairly easy to pull of when you'd practised it a couple of times, but, knowing Janie, she probably hadn't practised before and I felt a little guarded towards the object that could, for all I knew, blow up if I thought of an explosion. Oh, I trusted Janie – I just didn't trust her skill at Charms. Grinning at the memory of our last game of exploding snap with homemade cards that exploded with rather more force than usual, I finished off my breakfast and headed to my classroom to prepare it for the first lesson.

Shortly before the time the lesson was supposed to start, the first few first years poked their heads around the door.

'Come in,' I called from the opposite end of the room.

Absorbed in trying to find the right number of foam boxes I didn't take much notice as the students filed in. As the last stragglers sat themselves down I turned and flung the boxes up into the air. A couple of the students winced or ducked, but I kept the boxes aloft until there was one positioned between each pair of students. I lowered them all with a grin.

'Hi,' I said. All 28 students were now looking at me, but I didn't shift awkwardly as I would have thought I'd have done. I was too amused at the mixed looks of awe, fear and – on one or two student's faces – scorn. 'I'm Professor Prince and will be taking your Charms lessons for at least a year. The spells you'll learn over the next seven years all vary in power and presence, depending on who – or whom – casts them. You will all have different strengths and weaknesses, especially when it comes to specific charms. For now, however, I'm going to see how well you can tackle a Reducio spell.' I paused a moment and once again took in the expressions of the students before me. Although it was clear many were only half listening, the majority seemed entirely enraptured. I allowed myself an imaginary pat on the back before continuing. 'Working in pairs, take it in turns to try and reduce in size the foam box on your desks. Anyone found pointing their wand at another student will be duly punished. Now, give it a go!'

As if I had removed a silencing spell noise blossomed and the students all started saying, shouting or muttering 'Reducio' at their boxes. Withholding my laughter, and wishing I had a camera, I quickly rushed forward to stop a couple of particularly mobile students from taking someone's eyes out with their wands and then stood back to watch with growing amusement, until someone's box spontaneously combusted. I hastily put out the small fire and checked that the boy and his partner weren't hurt before getting everyone's attention.

'OK, has anyone successfully pulled off the spell?' I asked hopefully, not really expecting a reply. I got one, nonetheless. A small, black haired girl brazenly raised her hand and I smiled. 'Well done. What's your name?'

'Cameron Black,' she drawled out lazily.

Black? I frowned internally – my outward smile not slipping – hadn't the Black line ended? It must be a different Black family I concluded before asking, 'Can I see your box?'

She chucked it at me and it sailed in a graceful arc over the heads of the other students. I caught it with one swift movement and it took me barely a second to see that although the box was smaller, it wasn't due to magic. My smile slipped slightly, but I soon replaced it with an even higher watt one. I turned to the rest of the class, my eyes snagging only momentarily on the lofty expression on Cameron's face. I gave a more in-depth explanation of the Reducio spell as the students took notes. I gave a quick demonstration on a much larger scale, shrinking my chair to the size of a mouse before asking them to repeat the previous exercise. I transformed the chair back to its original dimensions and, as I made my way around the class, was pleased to see that the majority of students were getting much better at the incantation and wand movement, though by the time the bell went no one had yet to complete the task.

'No homework this time and we'll continue working on the spell next lesson,' I said before dismissing the class. 'Oh, and Cameron, would you mind staying back a moment?' I asked as the small Slytherin girl passed my desk. She shot me a look dirtier than playing rugby in the rain, but stopped. She leant against the wall with a sullen, almost petulant look displayed on her face. I took the box she had given me earlier from one of my desk drawers. I placed it on the desk between us, but neither of us looked at it, her eyes never removing from mine. I put one of the unaffected boxes next to it on the desk. 'Could you repeat the spell on this box, please?' I asked.

The girl swiped the box to the floor; she was not angry – the same look of unaffected scorn apparent in the drawn eyebrows and narrowed eyes. Then she stomped hard down on the box and leant over to pick it up, placing it neatly next to the other one.

'I see,' I said calmly. 'Could you show me your wand please, Cameron?'

I had expected several different responses to this; a simple yet defiant 'no' was my favourite, whilst others such as her just walking off or continuing to stare at me unmoving also sprang to mind. Instead she screamed.

'No!' she shouted, her voice reaching a painfully high pitch. 'You're just the same as them! No, no!' Then she turned and ran. I watched her leave with a certain trepidation. I knew immediately there was some kind of story there, and I wouldn't hesitate to find out what it was. Cameron seemed very withdrawn, but presented herself to the others as out there and unafraid. But the child I saw was terrified and curled up beneath hundreds of layers of disguise. I frowned as I watched my next class come in. This class was made up of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor third years that all knew each other, which set me at a certain disadvantage, but I was determined to make the best of it. I asked them to pair up with someone of a different house from themselves before asking them to perform a simple Cheering Charm on the other person. Comedy ensued and I found the little figure of Cameron Black and the huge problem she represented pushed to the back of my mind.

The end of the lesson soon rolled around and I had the names and faces of the students likely to give me trouble imprinted in my mind – and which pairings to avoid. I had a twenty minute break like the rest of the school, so I hastily made my way up to the teacher's staff room.

'Anyone mind telling me who Cameron Black is?' I asked upon barrelling into the room.

'Who?' Neville asked from one of the tables, his square glasses slipping to the edge of his nose as he poured over today's edition of the Daily Prophet, cup of black tea in hand.

'A girl in one of my first year classes. She blatantly lied to me and refused to even draw out her wand the entire lesson, let alone attempt magic,' I said. Although I realised the words were fairly accusing, I hoped my tone addressed the curiosity and worry I felt.

'Miss Black,' a sneering tone said from behind me, 'is the result of a union made in hell and has suffered nothing but hatred from her guardians. Now if you'd be so kind as to get out of the doorway, Ms Prince.'

I stood open-mouthed for a second, but soon stepped aside to let the Potions Master pass, too distracted to notice the glare he sent my way when I didn't immediately move. Thoughtfully I made my way to the kettle and poured out a cup of tea for myself and Severus, passing him one. He raised an elegant eyebrow at me and I shrugged. I leant against the side and watched as my colleagues did their various activities, involving several newspapers, several sets of essays and lots of cups of tea.

'Did your first lessons go well?' Severus asked from beside me, making me jump. I had known he was still there, but certainly had not expected him to inquire.

'Oh, um, yes. You're tutoring certainly helped,' I paused, my mind pounding with hundreds of questions I wanted to ask. I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut across me.

'That was, I believe, my intention.'

I was slightly put out about by this remark, but tried to carry on anyway, 'Obviously. Look can you –'

'No,' he interrupted me again in harsh, strict tones. He turned to look directly at me, his obsidian eyes boring into my own hazel ones. 'No,' he repeated, more softly this time. 'Your concern is not unfelt by Minerva and I but we know little more than you do, and Miss Black's foster-mother specifically asked that no questions be asked. If you persist in your direction of enquiries it will only make the situation more difficult for everyone. Particularly the young lady in question.'

'Of course.' My curiosity was, of course, more fired up than ever, but I pushed it to one side. 'Sorry,' I quickly apologised, the look of astonishment that flashed across his face before it was carefully concealed amusing me a moment, before I quickly turned talk back to the subject he had been trying to distract me with. 'So how about you, how did your first lessons go?'

I couldn't help but inelegantly snort tea all over my hands at the look of utter disdain that crossed his face. He muttered something about bumbling idiots and foolish stupidity, but there was a gleam in his eye when he said this that I would have described as 'cheerful' were it not that he seemed incapable of the emotion. I hesitated a moment as I silently pondered whether he was actually enjoying being able to do something he clearly (no matter how profusely he denied it) loved doing – teaching – or if he was simply laughing inwardly at the mess I had made of myself. He opened his mouth to say something I knew would be scathingly accurate, but I held up a single hand.

'Sticks and stones, Severus. Save your breath for someone who will be duly hurt,' I said calmly, moving to the sink to clean my hands and the mug and leave it to drain. His mouth shut when I started speaking and opened again when I was done. He paused, however, thought about it, and shut his mouth again. I blinked in surprise that he'd actually listened to me and felt tempted to laugh. I held it in as I thought it would be rude and headed out of the room as the break drew to an end.

I paused at the door and sent Severus a wink, which he merely raised an eyebrow at. This time I really did laugh, but had already moved away so he probably didn't hear me. The relationship between us was definitely strange, and although he still tried to play the stoic Potions Master feared and dreaded by all, I seemed to be able to draw out some emotion from him. At a guess it had absolutely nothing to do with the previous night – that had merely been a… coincidence, of sorts. I hummed happily and arrived to see my class was already waiting outside for me; I ushered them in and the lesson began.

Written: Unknown
Chances of continuation: nil

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Much love,
Cal