All's Fair; Chapter Six

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: 3004

I strode into Severus' classroom and banged the door open with such a force that it slammed against the stone wall, creating a very large booming noise that made all of the occupants of the room – myself excluded – jump.

'Professor Prince,' Severus said coldly, his temper flaring in his eyes, although he kept his body calm. 'To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?'

'Pleasure? Oh, yeah, the pleasure is all yours this time,' I stormed. 'Where the hell do you get off, abusing the students not only of other houses, but your own house as well? It's not hard to tell that you aren't exactly the most liked of the teachers, in fact it's painfully obvious, but I never thought that I'd have one of my students come in fifty minutes late for a lesson because she'd been sobbing away in the toilets.'

'I have never laid a finger upon any of the students,' Severus said in reply, his lip starting to curl into a disdainful sneer.

'Not all abuse is physical, you jerk,' I hissed back.

At my insult Severus seemed to swell up in size, no longer trying to hold back his fury as his anger met mine. 'Jerk? Jerk? Do you have any idea at all who you are talking to? I could have you fired on the spot.'

'Severus Snape,' I replied so quietly that in a normal classroom he would not have heard me, but the students were deadly quiet and the stone walls and floor of the room projected the sound well. I continued in tones just as quiet and twice as icy. 'I don't care who you are. You could be Jesus Christ or the Lord God Almighty for all I care, you have no right to reduce a student into such a state of fear and disgrace that they feel it necessary to hide in the toilets for over an hour.' The bell rang, the noise so harsh and loud that the class jumped again. Neither Severus nor myself moved or blinked at the sound. Once the sound faded I said in the same voice, 'Class dismissed.'

The students rose and gathered their things, leaving the room in silence. I knew that by dinner the news would be all over the school and I would most probably lose my job, but the sense of self-righteous indignation still filled every fibre of my being and I clung tightly onto that feeling because I knew that when it disappeared I would be left with nothing but guilt and embarrassment.

'Professor Prince, I suggest you leave my room now before I do decide to fire you,' Severus said as soon as the last student had left.

'Go right ahead. Up until this point I thought I knew exactly who you were. Sarcastic, sardonic and a whole load of other things that gave you a bad name in the eyes of the students, but first and foremost a teacher. A teacher is supposed to be someone you can rely on and trust, who will lead you past mistakes and give you knowledge you would never otherwise have. But you – you! You don't give your knowledge on freely, you force it upon your students until they choke on it, then you punish them for your mistakes.

'When you were teaching me about to handle a class it was magnificent – beautiful. I was eager to accept what you had to tell me and swallowed every word, harvesting them in because I could see that teaching people was something you were passionate about – something you could see yourself doing until the end of the world. And you treated me as an equal. Occasionally you were condescending or sarcastic, but once in a while is all right. I've seen you around the students and I've seen the way my classes are subdued after having a lesson with you. And I saw the tears that were falling from Cameron Black's eyes. Every teacher makes someone scared once in a while, but not the entire class every single lesson.

'I thought I was starting to see who you really were, but I have no idea who you are. I thought I could see the real you underneath your sarcastic mask. The man who is passionate and loving and actually feels something other than resentment. Obviously I was wrong. So feel free to fire me for trying to protect my students' emotional well-being. Feel free to boot me the hell out of here for trying to understand who you really are.' My speech left me exhausted, but I refused to let my tiredness get the better of me so I remained standing, staring defiantly into the black orbs of his eyes and trying to read the restless flow of emotions in them.

'You have the rest of the half term to round up what you are doing with your students and pack up your belongings. I expect you to have left the premises by the end of the half term holiday. A letter containing all the minor details and your payment will be sent to you before the end of the day.' His voice betrayed no emotion and I almost broke then and there. 'Please leave my classroom before I have you detained, Miss Prince.'

I closed my eyes in defeat. I thought of all my lovely students who I'd never see again after a week and a half. I thought of little Cameron Black who would be subjected to another seven years of his lessons and regretted not being there to comfort her. I thought of the man who I had made love to on the broken pieces of a destroyed coffee table. And I thought of the unborn child resting underneath my fingers as they lay across my stomach.

I opened my eyes slowly – so slowly I suppose I could easily have taken centuries. I looked at him with the emotion in my eyes he and Cameron had shunned me for before; pity. Pity that he would have to continue living his miserable little existence hidden behind his sarcastic mask. Pity that he would never be able to understand what love was. And pity that he would miss out on his only child's life. Because I knew that he had no other children and I knew that no one would ever let him get that close ever again. It was my turn to feel contempt as I said, calmly, coolly, completely devoid of any emotion, 'You accused me on Saturday of pitying you. I was telling you the truth then when I said I did not. If I repeated myself now it would be a lie. I pity you, Severus Snape. But, mostly, I pity your unborn child who will have to live his or her life without a father.'

Then I turned, not waiting to see how this news had been received, however dearly I wanted to see his expression. A strange feeling filled my stomach. It was nervous excitement and the thrill of having the last word. Underneath it all was a deadly depression that I knew I would sink into at some point, but until then I was held aloft by the need to get through the day with a smile and the grim satisfaction of having won the battle of fury, despite losing my job.

The rest of lunch passed swiftly as I ate and looked up some references in the library, continuing as if nothing had ever happened. I ignored the questioning gazes of the students and when the next lesson came and someone asked if it was true that I had yelled at Professor Snape I'd replied, somewhat more sharply than I should have, that if they wanted the full manuscript and details they should ask Severus for it. That immediately shut them up and the lesson continued, though my usually constant smile appeared only briefly and infrequently. I could tell the students were worried, but I refused to tell them anything. I did not bow out of dinner, though I did consider it. I felt smug when Severus did not turn up for dinner and when one of the other teachers told me he had some work to attend to.

'Work' my arse. He was avoiding me. And he was going to farther extent than I had yesterday. I saw the entire student population stare at me curiously at some point during the evening meal and wondered what kind of version was being told to those who had not heard of my little outburst until now. I giggled at the kind of morbid little inserts I knew students were capable of adding. I caught Cameron's gaze part way through the meal and I received the shock of my life when she blushed beet-red and gave me a shy little smile. A vindictive part of me rose up; she'd better be happy! I lost my job for her! But I knew it was worth it, so I smiled back and winked at her.

When I retired to my own rooms I was still held buoyant above the foreboding depression that was still far enough on the horizon. I knew I would not yield to it just yet, thank you very much. I reached for a bottle of beer, before stopping and reprimanding myself – baby first. I smiled, a little sadly. How easily this little child had slipped into my way of thinking. How easily being fired had slipped into my way of thinking. Pushing these morose thoughts to the back of my mind I took down one of my favourite books from the shelves and put on some of my favourite music and settled down into my comfy armchair, waiting for the letter that would tell me exactly when I had to leave and how much money they were going to give me for half a term's inexperienced teaching.

Nine pm came and went. Ten pm came and went.

When the clock struck eleven o'clock and no note had arrived to tell me either when I was leaving or – by some miracle – that I was staying, my impatience got the better of me and I stormed down to the dungeons. When I arrived at the statue that guarded the stairs down to Severus' quarters, I paused. I didn't know the password.

Feeling a little ridiculous talking to a stone carving I said, in as polite a tone as possible, 'Excuse me? Could you possibly let me through? I'm not here to steal or destroy anything – I want to talk to the man who lives here.'

The stone shifted and the snake-dragon blinked at me. 'Be my guest,' it said in silky smooth tones, before revealing the passageway. 'I must warn you he's not in the greatest of moods at the moment,' the statue added.

'Nor am I,' I said. I took a step forwards before adding, 'Thanks.'

The statue blinked its acceptance and then moved back. I walked down the stone steps and slid my hands around the cold metal of the doorknob before slowly, gently, easing the door open soundlessly. The sight that greeted me was sorry to see indeed.

Severus Snape was curled up in one corner of the room, pictures scattered around him and the bottle of liquid that had been half full on that night was now empty at his feet. As I moved closer I saw that the pictures were all of the same person – the same woman. She had beautiful red hair and striking green eyes that I remembered from somewhere. The majority of the pictures showed her as a young girl still at Hogwarts, but here and there were photos of her as grown woman, but always with another man – the same man each time. And the man that was with her looked hauntingly like Harry Potter, but without the signature lightning scar across his forehead. Then, finally, there was one half hidden which had the red haired woman and her man and they held between them a beautiful little baby boy with hair as black and messy as his father's and eyes as striking green as his mother's. Severus had been in love with Lily Potter?

I looked from the pictures to the empty bottle to his hunched form, the black cloak wrapped tight around his body. It wasn't pity, it was sympathy that welled up deep inside me and made my eyes sting. Then, gazing down at him, I realised with a gut-wrenching feeling that there was blood seeping out through the fingers that covered his face. My heart stopped for a millisecond and moments later I was kneeling down beside him, peeling his hands away from his face. He struggled against me for a moment, but not for long or very hard. I ripped part of my sleeve of and dabbed away at the blood on his forehead and hands. I was relieved to notice that there were no head injuries – that it was his hands that were bleeding and by covering his face with them he had smeared the inky redness over his features.

He opened his eyes blearily and it seemed that he sank even lower when he saw it was me helping him, his body now shaking slightly.

'Sorry – Ella – so sorry,' he sobbed, trying to bury his face once more in his hands, but I refused to release his wrists.

'It's OK, darling, it's OK,' I murmured into his ear. 'Can you stand up for me?' I asked in all seriousness, trying desperately hard not to sound patronising and, I think, failing miserably.

He shook his head at my question so I hooked my arms underneath his shoulders and hoisted him up, using the wall as a prop. He was heavier than I had thought so it was harder than I expected to lead him through into his bedroom. I sat him down on the edge of the bed and although he wobbled dangerously when I let him go, did not fall.

'I need to get you of these clothes, but once I have you can sleep for as long as you like, alright?' I said gently. He nodded dumbly and I tried to still my heart, which was beating far too fast. I did not need a panic attack right now.

Carefully I unbuttoned his cloak and opened it up, letting the top half fall on the bed leaving him in simply shirt and trousers, then started on the shirt. I removed that and folded it carefully, placing it on the set of drawers. I flushed as I undid the fastenings of his trousers, then scolded myself for doing so. I moved over to support his weight again so I could pull his trousers off and then lay him back into the bed, removing his cloak as I did so.

'Sleep now, Sev. I'll take care of you… sleep.' I covered him with the sheets, my words almost unnecessary as his eyes were already closed. I placed a shaking hand on his shoulder for a moment and then withdrew from the room.

Only once I was in the next room, with the door firmly shut, did I let my panic show. Breathing became difficult as I found myself hyperventilating. Sinking to the floor I put my head between my knees and concentrating on just breathing in and out before I tried to come to terms with what I had seen. To think – Severus Snape, in love with Lily Potter! I stood slowly and made my way across the room and carefully collected together the photos, inspecting each individually. When I reached the one that had James and Harry in too I conjured a frame for it and slid the picture inside. I looked at it a long time before setting it on the mantelpiece. Moving in to the next room, where his desk was situated, I extracted an elastic band, snapped it around the pictures and stuck them in my back pocket.

When I finished clearing up the rest of the mess it was almost one o'clock, but I decided Minerva had to be informed. I checked in on Severus to make sure he was still asleep and made my way through the empty corridors to the headmistress' office. She was still awake when I got there and if she was surprised to see me, didn't show it.

'Sorry to intrude,' I said upon my arrival, 'but I must request that Severus has the rest of the week off. He's not feeling well and although he may be up to teaching on Friday, certainly not today.'

'We have no other Potion's Master,' Minerva said, not questioning how I knew Severus was ill, or what was wrong.

I paused a moment before a spark of an idea hit me. Through my time helping people wanted by the Dark Lord, and consequently the Ministry of Magic, I had gained several possessions which were not, legally, passed on. Most I had boxed and hidden somewhere in my underground network, but a couple I kept with me for sentimentality or for the possibility of use. 'I will be perfectly able to take his place for a couple of days,' I said.

'You do have your own classes to see to,' Minerva reminded me.

I put a hand to my neck and slid it under my shirt collar, pulling at one of the chains that resided there. I tugged at it and held the time turner up so she could see exactly what it was. 'No problem,' I said.

Minerva regarded me for a while before nodding slowly. 'I believe that particular time turner is unregistered, but as it's only for two days, I'm sure the ministry won't mind too much. Very well. I will visit Severus tomorrow evening to see how he is.'

Smiling gratefully, if a little nervously, I left to face the next problem; convincing Severus he needed the time off.

Written: Unknown
Chances of continuation: nil

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Much love,
Cal