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Here is the next chapter - I hope you enjoy it :)

Lauren paced in front of the large fireplace in the Slytherin Common room, checking her wristwatch for what felt like the thousandth time.

The watch, which had been acquired during her trip to Diagon Alley, had been a purchase of necessity, or so Lauren told herself. When she had been thrown into this world, she had arrived with nothing but the clothes on her back. And being forced back into school (something which still irked her), keeping track of the time was essential.

The watch was a simple round-faced wristwatch with a black leather strap, and the face was ringed in a shimmering cobalt hue. It was quite nondescript compared to the others that had been on sale at the little watchmaker's store.

There had been watches that would loudly announce the time at hourly intervals, or others that would emit different sound effects; some animals, some Lauren had no words for. Some watches would tinkle softly like wind chimes swayed by a gentle breeze, while others let off little puffs of smoke as the seconds ticked by. The advanced section of watches was far more complicated, the faces reflecting the twinkling constellations in the night sky instead of showing the time.

Lauren had considered a safe bet to settle for the one she now wore.

She glanced back down again at her wrist and huffed in exasperation when she saw she still had five minutes to go until eight o'clock. Snape, being the punctual person that he was, would arrive at precisely that time, no sooner and no later.

Lauren paused and gazed into the flickering flames of the fire, the echoing silence filling the Common Room jarring. Dinner had been a similar (and somewhat sobering) experience. In fact, ever since her fellow Slytherins had left for the holidays, they had left behind a gaping void. Lauren was starting to miss their presence during mealtimes, as well as their boisterous laughter and mindless chatter that filled her with a sense of warmth and unity.

Now she was all alone and the highlight of her evening was waiting for Severus to show up and escort her to their lessons – something that she had been looking forward to all day, if truth be told.

Lauren blinked out of her thoughts and tilted her head slightly to the side, thinking she had heard something. She almost snorted at the idea – Snape was like a specter of the night; moving with near silent footsteps as he traversed the murky shadows unseen.

"Are you, perhaps, waiting for me, Miss Ward?" a silky voice sounded from behind her, making Lauren jump with undignified yelp.

She whirled around to find Snape standing behind her, tall and imposing and swathed in his usual favorite hue of black. His raven hair framed his pale features, and his equally dark eyes bore into her as he stared down his nose at her.

"Ho…how did you get in here?" she squeaked, glancing over at the firmly closed door and then back at him. Lauren had been watching the entrance of the Slytherin Common Room for his arrival, and she was damn certain that he had not entered through there.

"Articulate as always, Miss Ward," he sneered, amusement flashing in those dark depths.

"You know, I'm starting to think those rumors of you being a bat are true. How the actual fuck did you get in here?"

"Language, Miss Ward," he chastised, his voice never rising, but somehow sounding threatening all the same. "Otherwise I will be the one the put the next spell on you and I can guarantee you that you'll be hard-pressed to find the counter spell for it."

Lauren waved her hand dismissively. "How did you get in here?!"

His lips curled into an actual smile, the expression almost alien on his features. Lauren was so used to seeing him with a scowl or sneer plastered on his face.

"A secret."

Her eyes narrowed; her patience being sorely tested.

"A secret?"

Snape gave a single nod of his head.

"And are you planning on revealing this secret to me?"

Snape regarded her, the amused smirk still playing on his lips. The seconds ticked by.

Finally he responded. "In light of Professor Quirrell's recent…boldness, yes, I have every intention on revealing this secret to you."

Lauren rubbed tiredly at her forehead. "And being the sadistic bastard that you are, you figured you'd have a bit of fun with me first."

"Something like that."

Lauren glanced up sharply at him, aggravated by the fact that he was obviously garnering too much enjoyment in riling her up.

"Yeah, well, you've had your fun. Just tell me already."

"No."

Lauren was now staring daggers at him, which seemed to only amuse Snape even further. Though, Lauren couldn't much blame him – she hardly cut an intimidating figure in her deceptively innocent looking twelve-year-old body.

"I have no intentions of telling you, though," he said, pausing. "I had rather planned on showing you instead…" Was it her imagination, or did she detect a hint of teasing in his tone.

Lauren arched a brow, resisting the urge to cross her arms and stamp her foot impatiently.

He shot her a smirk, as though reading her mind, and turned his back on her, striding towards a portrait on the other side of the room. Lauren debated whether to follow him. Part of her was just tempted to just flip him the bird and make her way back to her room, unwilling to play along with his infuriating mind games.

But the other part of her, the traitorous part, had been looking forward to tonight's Potion's lesson.

So, tamping down her ire, Lauren followed.

Severus glanced over his shoulder, amusement flashing in his dark eyes when he noted that she had chosen to follow suite.

"Don't look smug," she warned sullenly, thrusting her hands deep into her hoodie pockets. Now that the holidays were here, the students weren't required to wear their school uniform, which was compulsory at all times except the weekends.

"Of course not," he agreed dryly, inclining his head to the side.

Straightening, he turned to face the portrait, which depicted the image of a plump moon hanging like a ripened fruit in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over a lazily flowing and shallow stream.

"Illustratio," Snape murmured, stepping back as the portrait swung open slowly on its hinges.

Lauren's eyes widened. "Is this a secret passage?"

"It's not exactly a secret, but its existence is kept fairly quiet. This passage leads directly to my private study and is used by the Prefects if they need me in an emergency."

Lauren nodded in understanding. It made sense that, if an emergency, the Prefects would need a quick route to get their Head of House.

"And," she asked, drawing the word out, "why didn't you tell me about this sooner? All the sneaking about we had to do, and you had the solution right here."

"And give you the key to impose upon my privacy whenever the mood struck you…I think not," he sneered. "I would have been relentlessly hounded by you. But it seems now that I have no other choice."

"You're giving yourself way too much credit," Lauren snarked back. "It's not exactly like your company is desirable."

"And yet here you are," Snape pointed out.

"Yeah, I'm a sucker for punishment," she muttered. "So what does Illustriomeeno mean?"

"Illustratio," he corrected. "It means Illumination."

"Hmm," she hummed. "I would say that it's apt, considering that we reside in the dungeons…"

Deciding he had had quite enough of her rambling, Snape strode past her with an impatient huff and entered the gloomy passage beyond, the darkness engulfing him. Lauren saw the tip of his wand light up, illuminating their way.

"Make sure you close the portrait behind you," he ordered.

"Yes, Sir," she muttered mockingly, but did as she was told.

They made their way through the passage and after a short amount of time, they came to another door.

Snape pushed it open and stepped out. Lauren followed shortly after and blinked when she realized that they were, in fact, in his study. She closed the portrait, which depicted an image of a medieval castle with bats flapping in the murky twilit sky.

Without a word, Snape strode over to the door that led to the Potion's classroom and, yanking it open, stepped inside.

Lauren found her cauldron already set up at her workstation, as well as the instructions for the Pepper-Up potion scrawled on the blackboard.

She didn't wait for Severus to draw breath and berate her for dawdling, and went to collect the ingredients from the storage room.

Returning to her desk, Lauren proceeded to follow the first few steps of the instructions. She hesitated when Snape sidled to the other side of her workstation, watching her every movement with a hawk-like gaze. Lauren ignored him and concentrated on her potion.

The minutes ticked by, the silence almost suffocating.

"Do you really have to hover?" she asked as she chopped up the Mandrake roots.

"Yes. Potion brewing is volatile and, in inexperience hands, unpredictable. One mistake could be disastrous."

Lauren lifted her gaze, peering at him through her lashes as a thought occurred to her. "Is that why you constantly hover over Neville? To stop him from exploding the entire classroom and, by extension, us along with it?"

"Yes." His expression was unreadable, giving nothing away.

Lauren turned her attention back to finely chopping up the thyme. "And here I thought it was because you just enjoyed intimidating him. Instead you're making sure he doesn't make grievous errors."

Snape didn't deign to reply, and she took his silence as confirmation of her suspicions.

The silence stretched and Lauren finally glanced back up at Severus, who was staring intently at her now bubbling cauldron, his body bent at the waist and his hands clasped behind his back. His hair had fallen around his face like a glossy curtain, his concentration intense and absolute.

"Were you there?" she asked quietly.

Snape slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers and arched a questioning brow. "Be more specific, Miss Ward. It's not like I'm a…mind reader."

Lauren snorted, realizing that he had just cracked a joke. Snape, she had noticed, did possess a sense of humor which was often delivered under the veil of cutting or dry sarcasm that made it almost impossible to detect.

Thinking better of it, Lauren shook her head. "Never mind."

"I see you're starting to think before you speak – there may be hope for you yet."

Lauren cracked a smile. "Highly unlikely."

Picking up her stirring rod, Lauren concentrated on evenly stirring the contents of the cauldron. She gently coaxed her magic into the bubbling brew, her eyes alighting when, at this critical stage, it morphed into the correct shade of indigo.

Lauren then added the crushed Bicorn Horn and five drops of Salamander blood, and resumed her stirring.

"What was your question?" Snape finally asked, still peering intently into the cauldron.

Lauren chewed her bottom lip. "Were you there when Neville's parents were…tortured?"

There was a noticeable shift in the atmosphere, the air now thick with palpable tension. Lauren nervously glanced up and saw Snape was regarding her with a cold, stony expression.

"No," he growled sharply, his tone forewarning that the topic was not to be discussed further. Lauren swallowed hard and turned her attention back to her potion.

The next thirty minutes followed in tense silence, Lauren adding the rest of the ingredients at the required stages, and Snape watching her every move through dark menacing eyes.

Finally the potion was complete, and Snape proceeded to examine it with a critical eye.

"It's passable, but still weak," he finally stated, letting the ladle drop back into the cauldron with a clang. "What do you think you could have done differently?" he asked, straightening up and folding his arms in front of him. He was now reverting back to Professor mode, grilling her for the correct answer. It was better than the aloof coldness he had been exuding before.

Lauren's brows furrowed as she pondered his question. It was at the tip of her tongue to reply that she should have concentrated more on what she was doing or have channeled her magic more effectively. But Lauren stopped herself, something else nagging at the edge of her mind – an intuitive feeling.

"When I was stirring…" she began, feeling as though she were being tested, and maybe she was. "…It…I dunno, it felt as though I should have added a counter stir for every seven clockwise stirs."

Snape regarded her for a moment, his features giving nothing away. "And why didn't you?" he asked, his voice a silky whisper slithering along her skin.

Lauren squirmed under his gaze. "I…I was following the instructions."

"And that is where you will fail, time and time again" he stated, abruptly turning his back on her. She heard him draw in a deep breath before he continued. "What have I told you about Potion brewing?"

"It's an art form," she immediately replied, his words from their very first lesson coming to the forefront. The subtle science and exact art that is potion-making…

Snape turned around to face her once more, his robes billowing like a phantasm around him. "Exactly," he enunciated clearly. "Potion-making is not in the same category as Charms, where the incantation and wrist movement have to be precise in order for the spell to work. When brewing a potion, the written instructions in the textbooks are but a guideline – there is room for improvement, improvisation. What separates the mediocre from the Masters is the intuition possessed to know when to add a different ingredient, crush a Sopophorous bean instead of chopping it up, or…" he paused for dramatic effect, his eyes boring into her as he held her spellbound by his speech, "…add a counter stir after every seven."

Lauren blinked mutely at him. After several heartbeats had passed, Lauren blurted out, "Did you just pay me a compliment?"

Snape snorted. "Is that all you retained from what I just said?"

"Oh no, I understood it all perfectly."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Yet, that is the question you chose to pose."

Lauren gripped the edge of her desk as she leaned slightly forward over her workstation. She gave him a wolfish grin. "Admit it – you just complimented my…intuition."

"Your intuition will be a waste if you do not implement it," he remarked back with his usual snark.

Lauren rolled her eyes, knowing there was no way in hell Severus Snape was ever going to admit that she did have a gift when it came to potion brewing.

"Okay then," she said with a dramatic sigh, straightening up. "My next question is why don't you teach this stuff in class?"

"Firstly, very few possess a passion for potion-making. Most just choose to scrape through with minimal effort and opt to mindlessly follow the instructions given to them from the textbooks."

"And secondly?"

"It is safer for first years up to the end of fifth years to follow instructions from the textbooks. You can imagine the dangerous accidents that would occur is those dunderheads even attempted to stray from the given text."

Lauren's thoughts immediately went straight to Neville and she had to admit that Snape had a very valid point.

"Fair enough. So sixth and seventh years are allowed to experiment a bit?"

"I do give them some leeway, yes, but the select few that do make it into my NEWT classes very seldom choose to deviate from the guidelines. And fewer yet actually hold a burning passion for the subject."

A pang of pity shot through her. How difficult must it have been for Snape, who was gifted in his chosen profession, to have to try and impart that knowledge to students who showed very little interest or appreciation for the subtle art of potion-making? It must have been quite disheartening for him over the years to see all his efforts wasted.

Is that why he is making such a concerted effort to teach me?

Lauren didn't have the answer to that question. She could not deny that a thrill of excitement coursed through her veins when she started brewing a potion and succeeded in effectively completing it. It always seemed to fill her with a sense of accomplishment, contentment even as she quietly stirred her cauldron, becoming engrossed in her task.

Does he see something in me that I haven't quite yet realized?

She glanced up to see Snape staring at her with a guarded expression. "I think it's time for you to head back to your room, Miss Ward. Meet me here again tomorrow night. Same time," he stated in a low voice.

Lauren's eyes widened in surprise. She had thought this was only going to be a once-a-week occurrence.

"Every night?"

"Unless you have somewhere more important to be," he sneered.

Lauren rolled her eyes as Snape absently vanished the contents of her cauldron with a lazy wave of his slender hand. As she made her way to the door leading to his study, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder at him.

"Good night, Miss Ward," he said pointedly.

"Good night, Sir. And…" Lauren paused, a small smile making its way to her lips. "Thank you…for everything."

She opened the door and ducked through it, missing the unreadable look that followed her words of gratitude. Very few had ever given Severus Snape a sincere word of thanks.

~oOo~

Soon Christmas Eve was upon them in a matter of days. The Great Hall was decorated in a plethora of garishness, with bright colorful tinsel draped across every available surface, strategically placed mistletoe hanging and waiting for unsuspecting passerby's, and baubles of every imaginable color charmed to float over their heads as the student ate.

As if that wasn't enough, Hagrid had set up twelve enormous Fir trees in the Great Hall, each adorned with Christmassy adornments and topped with either figures of angels or brightly lit stars. Overall, the Christmas spirit was truly alive and well here, if not a tad bit overdone.

The same couldn't be said for Snape's classroom or his study. The festivities from upstairs was noticeably absent down here in the dungeons, with only the pickled jars to offer them any Christmas cheer.

Lauren was once more in the Potion's classroom, attempting to brew the Pepper-Up Potion yet again. Snape's perfectionist nature was coming to the forefront, much to Lauren's consternation.

But she had to admit that the extra lessons, as well as putting up with Severus' mercurial attitude, had been well worth it. The potion now simmering in her cauldron had turned a swirling shade of Aruba blue, indicating that it had been correctly brewed. The subtle scent of rosemary was another hint.

Snape held the glass vial up to eye level, studying it with a critical eye. Lauren held her breath as she awaited his verdict.

"It's a considerable improvement from you first attempt," he finally muttered, placing the vial carefully on the counter.

This, coming from Snape, was almost considered a compliment, and Lauren couldn't help but swell with pride. Especially when she had glimpsed a pleased smile flitter across his face before he quickly hid it.

Lauren glanced at her wristwatch, noting that it was almost ten thirty at night. In a few short hours it would be Christmas morning.

"Can I ask a favor, Professor?" she enquired, watching as Snape dispensed the contents of her cauldron into vials. The fact that he was choosing to keep this batch (probably to be given to Madam Pomfrey for her to administer to her sick patients), showed that he considered it worthy. Snape would never accept sub-par brews - this she knew for a fact.

"Depends…" he replied as he corked the vial clutched in his hand.

Lauren reached into the depths of her coat pocket and produced a brightly wrapped package, holding it out towards Snape. He glanced at the parcel, a blank look shuttering over his features.

"Could you please have an owl deliver this to Tracey in the morning? I would do it myself, but I don't have an owl and, unless you know a secret passage that leads to the Owlery, I don't want to risk going there alone," she explained.

Snape regarded her for a moment, and Lauren thought he was going to refuse.

"Put it on my desk on your way out," he ordered, plucking up another vial and filling it. He hadn't said it in so many words, but he had just dismissed Lauren.

"Thank you," she breathed out, heading towards the door to his study. She paused with her hand curled around the door handle, glancing over her shoulder at the mysterious wizard thoroughly engrossed in his task. "Merry Christmas, Sir," she called out.

Snape didn't bother to turn around, but his words floated clearly back to her.

"It's not Christmas yet, Miss Ward."

Lauren rolled her eyes at his stale attitude and entered his study. She made her way to his neat and orderly desk and placed the package for Tracey upon it. Then, glancing over her shoulder, she reached into her coat pocket and produced another festively wrapped gift. She placed this one beside the other one, the label visible and the message clear to see: Merry Christmas, Professor Snape. From Lauren.

The gift in question was a rather fetching quill of a shimmering Spring green hue. When Lauren had seen it in one of the storefronts in Diagon Alley, she had immediately thought of Snape and knew she had to get it for him. It was an impulsive buy, but nothing extravagant or personal that it would offend him.

With the gift came a new bottle of bright red ink, along with a snarky note saying: Seeing as you go through so much red ink shredding our essays to pieces, I thought you could do with a refill.

Before she could second guess herself, Lauren left hastily through the secret passage and headed back to her dorm.

~oOo~

The next morning Lauren awoke to find a single parcel on her bed, something that surprised her for she hadn't been expecting any gifts. She blearily glanced at the tag and cracked a smile. It was from Tracey.

Her smile quickly faded, however, when she tore open the wrapping depicting cartoonish Santa Clause's and saw that it was a homework planner. Lauren scowled down at the offending gift, wondering how on earth she had managed to befriend the Slytherin version of Hermione Granger.

Lauren picked up the planner with every intention of shoving it into the dark recesses of her trunk, or flinging it into the fireplace, but paused when a note fluttered down onto her lap.

The homework planner was for a laugh – I know you have no intentions of ever using it. Your real gift is underneath it. Merry Christmas, Lauren. Love Tracey.

Lauren shook her head but was smiling, nonetheless. Tracey really had a warped sense of humor. Tossing the already hated planner over her shoulder, Lauren turned her attention back to the package and saw another book nestled amongst the tissue paper.

She gingerly plucked it out, imagining a schedule planner that would shrilly command the owner to finish certain tasks, or something along those lines.

Instead, she held in her hand a book titled: Charms and Spells for Everyday Use.

She flicked through the crisp pages, her excitement mounting when she realized that these spells, though simple, were actually quite useful, and she decided right there and then to start practicing them in her free time.

Lauren spent the rest of the day immersed in Tracey's book, as well as a few others she had purchased, as she sat in front of the roaring fire in the Common Room, the platter on table beside her magically refilling itself with pies and treats.

Soon evening was upon them and Lauren made her way to the Great Hall, seating herself at the achingly empty Slytherin table.

The house-elves had really outdone themselves with the Christmas feast. The dishes were laden with roasted turkey smothered in cranberry sauce, glazed chicken trickled with rich brown gravy, scalloped potatoes in a creamy mushroom sauce, dressing, baby carrots cooked to sweet perfection, and freshly baked buns smothered in butter.

Lauren's mouth practically watered at the sight and she immediately dug in, loading her plate with a heaping of each dish.

As she ate in silence, she glanced up at the staff table. Predictably, Severus was the only one decked out in his customary black, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the other teachers who were dressed in brightly festive clothes. His head was ducked as he concentrated on eating, but Lauren had the feeling he was avoiding her gaze.

Lauren shrugged. She hadn't really expected any sort of acknowledgement from him either way, but she was curious as to whether he liked his gift or not.

Once dinner was heartily consumed, dessert appeared on the table - by which time most of the teachers were considerably drunk, if the silly giggles and goofy singing were anything to go by. Lauren smothered her grin as she noticed that Snape was the only one who didn't appear intoxicated and was sitting there with a look of deep derision plastered on his pale features. By the looks of it, he was mentally counting down the time when he could escape back to the sanctity and peace of his dungeons.

Lauren finished her chocolate malt cake and decided it was time to leave when Hagrid started singing very loudly. He was swaying dangerously on his chair as he rocked from side to side, slopping the contents of his goblet all over the table, as well as the unfortunate teachers seated on either side of him.

Her belly now full of delicious food that was making her considerably drowsy, Lauren decided to call it an early night. Snape had told her the previous night that he would be in no mood to conduct a private lesson with her today, and after witnessing the 'festivities' at the staff table, Lauren couldn't much blame him. She greatly suspected that he was getting privately drunk in his room round about now.

Lauren made her way to her room and dressed in warm fuzzy pajamas. Making her way to her bed, she paused when she noticed a parcel on her pillow, wrapped neatly in emerald green wrapping.

Lauren picked it up and sat on the edge of her bed as she carefully unwrapped it. A small frown furrowed her brows when she glimpsed a note lying on top of a clearly used book.

This might be…enlightening…S.

The spiky handwriting was a dead giveaway that this gift was from none other than Severus Snape himself.

Lauren blinked out of her shock and glanced over at the book, noting the title: A guide to Poisons and Antidotes.

Her frown deepened.

Why would Snape think that learning to brew poisons and antidotes would be useful to me?

Lauren picked up the well-read book and flipped it over, her eyes widening when she saw who the author was.

Bethany Anne Ward.

Lauren gasped, and after a stunned silence she raised a shaky hand and traced her finger over the picture of her 'ancestor'.

The resemblance was uncanny, even Lauren had to admit it. Though the image was black and white, there was no mistaking that Bethany possessed the same long wavy brunette hair as Lauren. And, if the image had been in color, Lauren would have bet all the gold in her vault that she had the same midnight blue eyes as herself.

Bethany, though older in this picture, was a striking woman with almond shaped eyes, a pert narrow nose and high distinguished cheek bones. In this photo she wore a high collared Victorian styled dress, and Lauren was struck by the fact that Bethany, it would seem, was the product of high breeding – something Lauren was most decidedly not.

But in those eyes twinkled a defiant nature and wild streak, as well as sharp intelligence, and Lauren was in no doubt that Bethany, whilst alive, had had a mind of her own and had done as she pleased - blatantly disregarding all oppressive rules of society.

Lauren turned the book over and gingerly opened it, letting out another gasp when she saw in the upper left-hand corner the words: Property of Severus Snape.

Snape had just given her a book from his personal library – a testament in itself. But this was not just any book. This was a book that tied her to her ancestry here.

Tears pricked Lauren's eyes. Snape, though he may not have known it, had just given her a truly an exceptional gift – one that meant more to her than he could have ever guessed.

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