(11 years later)
Olivia's POV
I never really realized how different I was from other children until the day I started Hogwarts. I knew I was different from the books I had read, of course. I didn't have a Mother and Father like most people or any relatives at all that I knew of. The closest thing I had to a Mother was Ellen, who always insisted I call her by her first name, not Mum, Mom, or Mommy. She told me I was adopted, that she didn't give birth to me. Some people might have thought it was weird, but it was all I ever knew, so it seemed normal to me. I didn't live in a house like other boys and girls- I lived in a bookstore. Personally I loved living in the bookstore. I learned to read at age 3, which Ellen remarked was abnormally young, and by age 6 I was reading books on magic and potions.
Ellen wanted me to have a head start on the other children so she began teaching me spells with her wand at a young age. By the time I was 8 I could perform simple spells with her wand. I could also brew a few useful Potions, which I thought were fun but Ellen thought was time-consuming and boring.
"You'll be glad when you start school," she told me, "There's a whole class period devoted to Potions. I almost failed it when I was in school. The Potions Master is a cousin of mine. I haven't heard from him in years- I hope he's still up there when you start school so you can yell at him for me."
I had lived in Diagon Alley my whole life so when my acceptance letter from Hogwarts came and Mom took me around to get my school supplies, the shops were nothing new to me. When I went in to get my first wand, there was a group of small children whispering fervently in a corner. I greeted the shop keeper, Mr. Ollivander, who used to baby-sit me when I was young.
"How are you this morning Ms. Cain?" he asked, his smile making his face look even older.
"Good."
"How's your Mother?"
"Ellen's fine. She went down to Madame Malkin's for my school robes. I'm here to get my first wand."
"Ah. You'll have to wait. I'm afraid they were first."
I nodded briefly and went to sit on a stool in the corner, where I had often sat as a child, watching Ollivander helping wand and wizard unite.
I was excited about getting my very own wand, but it didn't radiate off me like it did the other young wizards in the shop. The boy whose wand arm Ollivander was measuring was trembling he was so excited. I found myself wondering if he was Muggleborn. I had read about witches and wizards who were born to Muggle parents. It had seemed impossible to me, but Ellen assured me it was true. She told me there was some people who thought they were lesser wizards because of it and even some who hated Muggleborns and any interrelations between them and wizards, but she encouraged me not to discriminate, especially when it came to blood status. Most pureblood wizards did, she told me, but I shouldn't because I might not even be pureblood. We had no way of knowing if I was pureblood because I was adopted.
Once the three kids were united with their first wands, they left the shop. Ollivander got out his magical tape measurer, which began to measure the length of my arm by itself, then my forearm, hand with, wrist circumference… When the magical measuring tape was finally satisfied, Ollivander began prowling the shelves for a suitable wand. I trailed behind him curiously, almost crashing into him when he stopped abruptly to pull a wand off the shelf.
"Try this one," he said, removing a wand made of white wood from its box. I took the wand and knew immediately it would not be mine. I had seen dozens of wands choose wizards over the years and each time they did something special. I waved it nonetheless and boxes rocketed off the shelves.
"Oh dear. Well, no hard done. On to the next one," said Ollivander.
We spent the next hour and a half going through wands. Finally, Ollivander let out a sigh and, frowning slightly, motioned for me to follow him to a room in the back which was always locked. He unlocked it and, curious, I stepped inside. This room was filled with endless books and records except for one wall, which had a shelf with several stacks of boxes.
"These are all experimental wands that never chose owners. Some have unusual cores or are made of rare wood," Ollivander told me, "Why don't you look through them- maybe one will strike your fancy."
"What if it doesn't? What if a wand doesn't choose me?"
"Don't fret, Miss Cain. I've never been unable to unite a witch or wizard with a wand before," Ollivander assured me.
I went through several odd wands before I found it. It was long, slender, and gray. As soon as I touched it, I knew it was the one- a warmth spread through my fingers and a warm blue light surrounded me. Ollivander looked surprised.
"Curious…" he remarked quietly.
The warmth spread through me and for a moment, I felt invincible and powerful.
"It's 10 inches long, made of willow wood. The core was a first- heartstring of a Hydrus," Ollivander said as I followed him up to the register, "I was lucky enough to encounter one a few years back. You know dragon heartstring is quite common as a wand core and how different are they really?"
I merely nodded my head, not wanting to admit that I had no idea what a Hydrus was.
Ellen met me outside of Ollivanders a few minutes later. She held my school robes in a bag beneath her arm.
"All you have left are Potions ingredients and a cauldron," she said to me.
"To the Apothecary!" I declared, excited.
When I had first developed a love of Potions a few years back, I would come to the Apothecary almost every day, just to examine ingredients, peer at slimy things in jars, and run my fingers through the barrel of glittering black beetle eyes. One of the store clerks sometimes let me help out around the store- sweeping, stocking shelves. To them it was work that needed to be done, but I enjoyed it.
As I gathered the required Potions ingredients listed on the list of school supplies that had come with my letter to Hogwarts, Ellen had to convince me not to buy the gold cauldron I'd had my eye on for years.
"If you want to impress the Potions Master you should just do as you're told. The list says pewter, size 2," she told me, "In fact, showing off with fancy, expensive equipment isn't the best way to impress the Potions master."
"I don't care about impressing the teacher, I care about the Art of Potions," I said haughtily. I had began calling Potions an Art when I came across the term while reading. Ellen rolled her eyes when I did this- she just thought of Potions as a school subject.
"You should want to impress Severus- he's your second cousin. My mother and his mother were sisters. You should want him to be pleased with you if you want to learn about Potions. He was always experimenting with Potions and spells when we were younger. He and his girlfriend were top of the class in Potions. He's quite bright, really. He has a lot to teach to anyone who cares enough to learn."
When Ellen and I returned home, we went into our bookstore and found the books I needed for school. Most young witches and wizards went to Flourish and Blott's to get their schoolbooks, but Ellen always kept them in stock just in case.
I stayed up nearly all night, pouring over my schoolbooks, even though I had read them all before. Ellen didn't mind that I stayed up all night. She had never given me a bedtime or curfew before. I didn't have many of the rules and restrictions normal kids did. The only rule she had ever given me was not to go down Knockturn Alley and I had defied that by the time I was seven. I only ever went down there once- it had been dark and creepy. The people there were as dark and creepy as the alley. They had all looked as if they belonged either in prison or an asylum. One man with dirty gray hair, a tangled matted beard, and clouded gray eyes that stared in opposite directions was standing in front of a flickering streetlamp, muttering to himself in a foreign language- French possibly. His head had whipped towards me suddenly, both his clouded eyes focusing on me.
"Petite Ange…" he whispered in French, "Petite Ange…"
He started to advance towards me and I took a step backwards. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a hand closed around my upper arm. I let out a shriek ad the hand had pulled me around so that I was facing a man. He wore solid black robes, a black cloak, and meticulously shined shoes. He had black hair and glittering black eyes that reminded me of the beetle eyes in the Apothecary.
"You shouldn't be doen here alone, girl. It's not safe," said the man and he pulled me back the way I had come.
"I was…lost," I said, tripping over my feet as I tried to match the pace at which he was pulling me.
"Don't lie to me, girl. You were defying your mother."
I stared at him in awe.
"You're not…You're not St. Nicholas, are you?" I asked fearfully. (I wasn't the brightest of children, but I had heard that St. Nicholas knew everything, including when little girls were lying."
To my surprise, the man let out a dry laugh.
"No. I'm not St. Nicholas. I just know where people are lying to me."
"Who are you, then?"
"…Just a concerned patron. Don't worry about it, Olivia," he said to me. It didn't occur to me until we were back in the sun-lit Diagon Alley that I had never told the stranger my name.
"Hey! How did you-?"
But by the time I had turned around, he was gone. Vanished.
This was the first of several encounters I had with the dark stranger during my childhood. Sometimes I would merely catch glimpses of him, in various shops or on the street. It seemed like every time I saw him, it was merely a glimpse, then he would disappear when I looked again. He always seemed to show up when I needed him most.
Once when I was about nine I was walking around Diagon Alley. Ellen was getting ready to go out on a date and I didn't feel like being cooped up in the house. She'd given me some money and told me I could go get some ice cream. I was about halfway to the ice cream shop when a boy knocked into me, snatching the money from my hand as he did so. He took off running before I had a chance to react. I was about to start after him when the dark stranger appeared, wand in hand. He gave his wand a brisk flourish and the thieving boy tripped and fell flat on the ground. The stranger strode forward and snatched my money out of the thief's hand.
"How degrading- stealing from a little girl! Do you feel proud of yourself?" snapped the stranger to the thief. He turned on his heel and walked back to me. He handed me my money and walked past me.
"Hey! Aren't you-?" I began, but he had disappeared. The thief got up slowly with a groan, massaging his ribs. His nose was bleeding. He glanced at me.
"Looks like you've got yourself a guardian angel, kid," he said to me, then skulked off down the alley. From that day on I thought of him as my guardian angel and whenever I caught a glimpse of him in Diagon Alley I tried to follow him, but he always managed to disappear in the end.
Severus' POV
I barely finished writing the schedules for my 3rd year students in time for the start-of-term feast. I caught myself thinking about her as I made my way up to the Great Hall- the child that I had saved. I had checked up on her throughout the years, not because I wanted to, but because I had promised Lily. It was one of the last thing I ever said to her.
I knew the child's name was Olivia and that she loved animals and books and Potions. I hadn't actually been introduced to her since I hadn't spoken to Ellen in years. I didn't want Olivia to know about me. So it might be considered stalking, my keeping an eye on Olivia, but I had made a promise and I intended to keep it.
I sat at the staff table at the head of the hall with the other teachers when the train arrived and the students began to pour into the Great Hall. Minerva, the Transfiguration teacher and deputy headmistress left her seat at the staff table to go and fetch the first years who were being brought to the castle in boats by he groundskeeper, Hagrid. The chattering of the hundreds of students already in the hall gave me a headache and I was barely listening to Kent, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher- or this year's anyway- who was talking vehemently beside me. I wasn't even entirely sure what she was talking about and when the door to the Great Hall opened. I abandoned all pretense of listening. My eyes found her immediately amongst the sea of children following Minerva into the hall. I was immediately struck by her uncanny resemblance to Lily Evans and my heart felt torn open, as if it were being ripped from my chest. It was cruel fate that she should so greatly resemble Lily. Ellen had allowed Olivia to dye her hair red a few weeks before school started, not knowing that every time I saw her- on the street, in a store, through a window, and now at school- it was pure emotional agony.
I kept my face studiously blank, not revealing the emotional hell within me, as I watched her, studying her curiously. While most of the other first years looked excited or nervous or frightened, Olivia appeared unfazed. While the others whispered to their newfound friends, Olivia stood alone, her eyes roaming the hall, then coming to rest on Minerva, who was bringing out the old Sorting Hat on a stool.
A hush fell over the students and staff as the Sorting Hat opened its brim wide to sing. I had been subjected to the singing hat's advice for over two decades- non-consecutive, of course- and I had long ago learned to tune it out. Olivia appeared to be ignoring it as well. She was looking around the hall, a slight frown on her naturally pale face. Suddenly, her head jerked towards the staff table, her emerald eyes focused directly on me. This startled me slightly and I immediately focused my attention on the Sorting Hat, which was finishing its song:
"…Death in the end will rue
Love always triumphs in the end
As long as one and one are two
The sun that sets will rise again.
Now, my advice is through
So let the Sorting now begin."
The Great Hall erupted in applause which I joined half-heartedly, wondering what on Earth the hat was talking about. I didn't believe that everything it said was a load of waffle, like most people did. I knew it lived in Dumbledore's office and sometimes picked up on things. Still, I had no idea what it could be talking about.
I chanced a passing glance over Olivia again, only to find her still looking at me, a curious expression on her face. Minerva began calling up the first years on by one to try on the Sorting Hat and be Sorted. The first three were Sorted into Gryffindor. Then came a few Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff. Then, Minerva called her name.
"Cain, Olivia," she said. Now I had an excuse to look at her. She was no longer looking at me, but kept her eyes straight ahead as she walked unconcernedly towards the stool. Curious, I probed her mind. Only then could I tell how eager and excited she was on the inside. I could also sense an underlying, burning curiosity about me. She had memories of me, I was surprised to find. The most vivid memory in her mind was one where I had found her in Knockturn Alley. There were a few brief memories- flashes of me spotted in Diagon Alley, in various shops, that I had not been aware of.
Olivia sat on the stool and Minerva placed the hat on her head. She clasped her hands in her lap and didn't fidget like kids usually did. I waited impatiently, wondering. What House would she be in? Gryffindor, as Lily had been? Ravenclaw, as Ellen had been and Olivia's intelligence would suggest? Or Hufflepuff, as her intense love of animals might suggest?
Or perhaps-
"Slytherin!" cried the Sorting Hat and my heart leapt. I had hoped she would be in my own house, but I hadn't expected it, especially with her love of animals. By nature, Slytherins weren't generally loving people. I clapped loudly as she went to sit at the Slytherin Table.
When the Sorting was over, the start-of-term feast began. After everyone had eaten their fill, Dumbledore made a few start-of-term announcements, then it was time for the students to go to bed. I lingered a moment, talking to Dumbledore.
"I couldn't help but notice you seemed particularly interested in a young red-headed Slytherin girl," Dumbledore said to me. I glanced around to make sure no one was listening.
"She's my cousin's daughter," I admitted finally, "Her name's Olivia Cain."
"She's Ellen Cain's daughter?" he inquired.
"Yes."
"Really?" Dumbledore said, looking at me in a way that felt like he was x-raying me.
"No," I replied reluctantly.
"No?"
"She's adopted."
"Ah. Why so interested in her?"
"She's related to me, that's all."
Once I escaped Dumbledore's line of questioning, I went to patrol the dungeons to make sure no students were sneaking about. I had just stepped into the Entrance Hall when a voice from the shadows startled me.
"Oi! Who are you?"
I whirled around to see Olivia step out of the shadows. I said nothing but frowned at her.
"Sorry if I scared you," she said with a smirk.
"It takes a lot more than that to scare me," I said dryly.
"You're my cousin, aren't you?" she asked, sounding faintly amused.
"Ellen is my cousin, yes."
"I've seen you around Diagon Alley before, but I didn't know it was you. Ellen says you haven't seen us in years. Why?"
"I have my reasons. You should be in your dormitory by now. First year students aren't allowed out this late. Do you even know where your house Common Room is?"
"No," she replied unconcernedly.
"You were supposed to follow the Slytherin Prefects to the house Common Room."
"Yes but I was waiting for you. So I could talk to you. Besides, you can show me where the house Common Room is. Some big older boy with a gap between his teeth said you were Head of Slytherin House. …You're also the Potions Master, aren't you?" she asked coolly.
"Yes. So?"
"I like Potions."
"Well it'll be one of your required classes up until your 6th years. Then you can take NEWT-level classes, if you're good enough to get an Outstanding on your OWLs, which few possess the talent to do."
"Is it really that difficult a subject?"
"Most children don't possess the patience and skill it takes to master the Art that is Potions."
For some reason this made her smile. I raised an eyebrow.
"Ellen always rolls her eyes when I call Potions and Art," she explained. I smiled slightly- Ellen had done the same to me since we were children.
"Your mother never was any good at Potions."
"Oh Ellen isn't my mother. I'm adopted," she stated matter-of-factly.
"Really?"
I wondered if Ellen had told her about my role in her "adoption". I certainly hadn't expected my cousin to tell her she was adopted, but I suppose she knew the best way to raise her.
I led Olivia down into the dungeons and showed her the hidden panel that concealed the Slytherin Common Room.
"The password is Rattlesnake. It changes every few weeks, I informed her as the hidden door slid open.
"Thanks…cousin," she said with a wry smile.
"It's Snape…or rather, Professor Snape."
"So your name is- what did Ellen say- Severus? Severus Snape?" she said, grinning.
"Yes. So?" I asked, eyes narrowing.
"It's a funny name," she replied innocently.
I didn't enjoy being laughed at but it was hard to be mad at those innocent green eyes.
"That's quite enough, Miss Cain," I said sternly, "To bed."
She nodded obediently and at once turned, smiling, and went into the Slytherin Common Room.
Olivia's POV
There were a few people in the Common Room when I entered, but hardly any of them looked at me. I thought I had successfully avoided anyone's attention when a pretty girl with light brown skin approached me, frowning.
"You're a first-year, aren't you?" she asked me. I studied her silently. Her voice had a slight accent to it- Spanish, perhaps? She looked to be about a year older than me. Her eyes were like brown almonds and her silky black hair hung loose around her shoulders. She was probably the skinniest person I had ever seen.
"Maybe I am a first year. So what?" I asked, cautious as ever.
"You didn't come in with the others. First years aren't supposed to wander around the castle alone," she responded.
"You gonna rat on me?"
She looked thoughtful.
"…No," she said decisively, "But you're lucky you didn't get caught by the caretaker Mr. Filch- or Professor Snape, who can sometimes be even worse than Filch if you catch him in one of his moods."
This captured my interest immediately. I wanted to find out more about my mysterious cousin. My "guardian angel" from my childhood, who had been there nearly every time something bad happened to me, was the Potions master at Hogwarts. And he wasn't anything like an angel. I wanted to find out as much about him as I could.
"That's the Potions Mater, right? Is he a difficult teachers?"
"With a nasty temper," she said, "And a passion for the Dark Arts. Most of us Slytherins like him- he tends to favor us over the other Houses, especially Gryffindor. They're your natural rivals, you know?"
"Is he a good teacher though?"
"If you like the subject, yeah, I suppose. He can be extremely degrading at times. He's very critical. You'll probably have your first class with him tomorrow or the next day…then you'll see how he can be."
The next morning at breakfast the Heads of Houses passed out schedules. McGonagall, a short wizard, and an older woman wearing an apron covered in dirt, all passed out their students schedules by hand. Snape came to the head of Slytherin Table, his wand in his hand, leading a trail of papers behind him. With a flourish of his wand, the schedules began to float towards whichever student's name was on the paper.
"Cool," said one of the first years, sitting across from me.
"He always does that," said a dismissive voice behind me. It was the girl from last night, whose name, I'd found out from one of the other students, was Mari Pirelli.
"He does it so he doesn't have to talk to us," Mari said to me, sitting down beside me.
"You're sure he's not just showing off?" I asked her.
"Nah. At least, I don't think so. He doesn't seem like the show-offy type."
"No, perhaps not," I said with a small smile.
"Why're you so interested in Professor Snape anyway?" Marie asked, scrutinizing me as my eyes followed Snape out of the Great Hall.
"He just seems…interesting," I replied with a shrug. I didn't want anyone to know he was my cousin, at least not yet. I was saved from further questioning by the sound of flapping wings which filled the air. Several people looked up, most of them first-years. It was a cloud of owls- hundreds of owls- all bearing letters or packages of some kind.
One tawny owl landed in front of Mari and she took a newspaper form it. She scrounged around in her pocket a moment, then paid the bird. I pulled a piece of crust off my toast and offered it to the owl, who gulped it down gratefully. I stroked its soft feathers and the bird hooted dolefully.
"You're good with animals," Mari remarked as the owl flew away.
"I love animals," Mari remarked as the owl flew away.
"I love animals. I want to be a veterinarian when I leave school."
"A veteri- what?"
"Veterinarian. A doctor for animals. They have them in the Muggle-world. I've read about them. I'm going to be the first witch veterinarian ever…that I know of, anyway."
My first class of the day was Charms. I expected to be good at it- it was one of Ellen's favorite subjects so she had started with that when she began to teach me magic. I did not, however, expect Professor Fliwtick- he was a short, balding wizard who was head of Ravenclaw- to start off the class by teaching us "proper wand-waving techniques" which we were to work on for the next few weeks. Needless to say I was disappointed and by the time I reached Transfiguration my expectations had been drastically lowered.
McGonagall, who had given me the impression of being a strict teacher the first time I saw her, began the class with a lecture about how important our grades were. When she finally began talking about Transfiguration I was bored out of my mind. She was like a talking textbook with a Scottish accent. I was absently sketching the owl from earlier on the corner of my parchment, under the pretense of taking notes, when McGonagall transformed into a cat and jumped onto my desk!
"Whoa!" cried various classmates, "Cool!"
I was, admittedly, impressed as well, but I didn't let it show. I kept my cool demeanor.
"Did you transfigure yourself or are you an animagus?" I asked curiously, looking her over.
I had never seen a cat sit so stiffly or look so displeased. She was a grey tabby and had markings around her eyes that resembled McGonagall's glasses. My guess was Animagus. The cat gave an irritable flick of her ears, then leapt off the desk and transformed back into McGonagall.
"An Animagus, of course. Only a fool would transfigure themselves into an animal- you wouldn't be able to transfigure yourself back. Now Miss-?"
"Cain. Olivia Cain."
"Miss Cain, if you would kindly pay attention? We'll be transfiguring matchsticks into needles today."
"Oh are we actually going to use magic in this class?" I inquired without thinking. McGonagall looked down at me, frowning, her eyes glittering.
"You can pass out the matchsticks, Miss Cain," she said dryly. I shrugged indifferently and passed out the matchsticks to my classmates.
I didn't have much practice in Transfiguration- for some reason, Ellen had avoided the subject. I didn't get it on the first try but after watching McGonagall a few times and observing the failures of my classmates, I finally managed to transfigure my matchstick. McGonagall looked insultingly disbelieving and insisted I repeat the feat four times before she grudgingly awarded ten points to Slytherin.
My next class was Herbology. I didn't particularly enjoy getting my hands dirty, but I knew a lot about plants and their uses from reading, especially in regard to potions. Professor Sprout, who was the witch I had seen passing out schedules to the Hufflepuffs, was impressed by my knowledge and awarded house points freely.
By the end of the day I had earned Slytherin over 30 house points. I hadn't exactly made friends with any of my classmates- they didn't interest me much and I thought they were rather slow- but they liked me well enough because of the points I had earned us and didn't seem to mind the fact I didn't talk to them. A few of them probably thought I was stuck-up but I didn't really care what they thought. At dinner Mari sat with me, talking about classes and congratulating me. As I ate, I noticed Snape sitting at the staff table, talking to McGonagall. He caught my eye and smirked slightly. Curious, I lingered in the Entrance Hall after dinner so I could talk to him, though this time I didn't sneak up on him.
Snape's POV
I wasn't surprised to find Olivia waiting for me in the Entrance Hall. She grinned when she saw me and I let out an exasperated sigh.
"You're somewhat irritating, you know that?"
I wasn't really irritated with her but I didn't like children. …Then again, I had saved her life. She had become rather interesting to me. Still, it was best to not let her know this.
"I know I'm irritating. I don't care," she responded.
I had to bite back a laugh, hiding it with a scowl and motioning for her to follow me.
I led Olivia down into the dungeons, past the empty Potions classroom, to my office. I unlocked the door with a nonverbal spell and opened the door. Olivia walked in and looked around. Her facial expression was a difficult read.
"It is grotesquely awesome," she declared after a moment, seeing that I was watching her reaction. I shook my head and sat down at my desk. Instead of sitting down, Olivia began to walk around the room, peering into the jars of various things that lined my shelves.
"I heard you made friends with McGonagall," I remarked dryly, "She made a point of telling me during dinner about "an obstinately rude girl from Slytherin house" whose name was Olivia Cain."
"Did she also tell you that I was the first- the only one out of my class, actually- to transfigure my matchstick into a needle?" she asked absently, tapping a jar of pickled toads.
"She failed to mention that."
"Yeah and the only reason I seemed obstinately whatever-" she said, rolling her eyes as she flopped down in a seat, "-is because McGonagall is boring…and easily irritable. All I did was ask her questions. I didn't think we'd be able to do magic in her class- Flitwick didn't let us."
"You have to learn the wand movements before you can learn the spells."
"But I know the wand movements and the spells already. Ellen taught me."
The words brought to mind a memory which I hadn't thought of in years and reminded me of what I now considered to be good advice.
"The work may seem boring now," I said to her, "but you'll learn something eventually. Give your classmates the time to catch up with you- most of them have never used magic before."
"I want to learn Potions," she said enthusiastically, "but it's not on my schedule until Wednesday. Will we be experimenting with Potions? Will we be able to make our own Potions?"
"It takes quite a lot of skill to be able to experiment with Potions in the sense that you put it. It's not taught in the curriculum. …I've never had a student who was skilled enough or interested enough to do it."
"Oh I'm interested enough," she said assuringly, "I want to experiment and make…special potions. For animals."
"Potions for animals?" I repeated.
"Yes. I want to be a veterinarian for Wizarding animals. You do know what a vet is don't you? It's a Muggle doctor for-"
"I know what a veterinarian is. How do you know what a vet is? You grew up in Diagon Alley. In the Wizarding World."
"I read a lot," she replied with a shrug, "And sometimes Ellen takes me to the Muggle World. She dates Muggles sometimes. I meant, I can understand dating Muggle-borns, I'm not that discrimination, but a Muggle? With no magic?"
I studied her curiously.
"It's rare to find a Slytherin who isn't discriminate against Muggle-borns," I said.
"Oh I know- everyone's all 'pureblood this and pureblood that'. I go along with it if I have to, but I really think it's rather ridiculous. …Oh- you aren't prejudiced are you? You're Slytherin too, aren't you? I didn't think of that."
"…No. No, I'm not prejudiced."
"Good," she said, relieved, "Ellen always told me that I shouldn't discriminate against Muggle-borns because, for all I know, I could be Muggle-born myself."
"Oh right- you're adopted," I said, as if I didn't know.
"Yeah."
I was quiet a moment, thinking. The child interested me. She was a lot smarter than most kids her age. It was the ignorance of children that made me hate being a teacher, but Olivia was not ignorant. So I decided to make her an offer.
"If you are good at Potions- which you may not be, I don't know yet- then I might consider making you my apprentice and teaching you about Potions more in-depth than your peers."
Her green eyes lit up, but that was the only hint of excitement her face betrayed.
"I would like that," she said. I could sense her suppressed excitement- a quick glance into her mind with Legilimency told me I wasn't crazy- but her face betrayed almost no emotion, apart from her small smile. This child had mastered control of her emotions, and at such a young age. I was impressed…and a little envious.
"We shall see if you are as good a Potions as you think you are," I said to her, "Now, it's late. You should return to your dormitory."
After Olivia had left, /I stayed up a while reviewing the work from some of my older students. Finally I went to my room, which was hidden by a slab of wall and could only be opened by a complicated spell. It wasn't much- a dark room, lit by torches on the wall. It had a green glow to it, lie the Slytherin Common Room I recalled so fondly. My bed was two mattresses stacked together, covered with black satins sheets. There were several shelves along the wall, stacked mostly with various potions and poisons, save for the spot right next to my bed, where there was an old photograph. It was a picture of Lily. She had been 16 at the time the photo was taken. She wore a yellow sundress and a hat and she was smiling and laughing. The photograph could move- in face she continued to smile and wave at me- but she couldn't talk. I stared at her for a few minutes before turning over to face the wall. It was then that I considered the memory that had surfaced earlier.
I was a first-year, sitting sullenly in the headmaster's office.
"They tell me you refuse to do your homework, Severus. Is that right?" the headmaster inquired.
"I guess," I muttered.
"Why won't you do your homework? It's part of learning."
"That's not learning," I scoffed, "I know this stuff already. I know the wand movements and I know the spells."
"Who taught you?" Dumbledore had asked curiously.
"My mother," I muttered in response.
"Eileen Prince. I remembered her," he said with a smile, "She was a talented witch when she was in school. She was quite good at Potions and was very skilled at Gobstones, if memory serves me right?"
I nodded my head reluctantly.
"How is she?" he inquired.
"Well enough," I replied sullenly, staring at the floor.
"I heard she married a Muggle. Very unexpected. She was in Slytherin after all, but I suppose the heart has a mind of its own."
I said nothing, then stood resignedly.
"I'll do the stupid homework," I said darkly, "Can I go back to class now?"
"Of course. As for the lack of learning, I suggest you give your classmates sometime to catch up. Some of them have never used magic before. Lawfully speaking, parents aren't supposed to teach their children magic with wands at such an early age, but I think we can overlook it this once."
He smiled kindly but his blue eyes seemed to be x-raying me. I left the office with my first impression of Professor Dumbledore- I didn't like him, I didn't trust him, and I certainly didn't need his help.
The memory brought a slight smile to my face. It was true that I hadn't liked Dumbledore at first, but now he was a friend to me- possible my only friend. I had come to like Dumbledore when the Muggle department of Child Services made several investigations into my house when I was a child. True it never made a real difference- Tobias would just force my Mother to perform a Memory Charm on them- but Dumbledore never mentioned it to me and for that I was thankful.