The Upper Hand

From the Oratorio, `The Captivity,´ by Oliver Goldsmith:

"O memory! Thou fond deceiver,

Still importunate and vain,

To former joys recurring ever,

And turning all the past to pain.

Thou, like the world, the oppress´d oppressing,

Thy smiles increase the wretch´s woe;

And he who wants each other blessing,

To Headmaster Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry:

Dear Headmaster,

It has come to my attention that you are having trouble in seeking an individual suitably qualified to fill the position of Hogwarts´ Potions Master. I realize that we have not spoken in several years, and that our last meeting was less than pleasant, but I would offer my service to you in hopes that I could make amends for my irresponsible behavior five years ago.

Unfortunately, I do not posses a plethora of references and recommendations from past employers, due to my lack of previous occupation. Be assured that I have not been unemployed these past five years because I am under-qualified, but because I was made solely responsible for the well being of my father´s youngest child, born shortly before his passage. I have undertaken this responsibility seriously, and the past five years of my life have been donated mostly to surrogate fatherhood. You may, however, still be in possession of my file from the time that I was a student at Hogwarts. If you look over it I daresay you will see that I am quite capable of filling your position, and I am sure that the previous Professor Duvall would provide testimony in regards to my competence as well.

I hope that you will consider my offer to you, as it seems that there are very few people willing to respond to this job opportunity.

Sincerely,

Severus Snape

Quite vague, he thought. Vague enough? Convincing enough? Not fishing for pity, of course, but with a tinge of that hopeless pride that...encouraged it. He hated pity; it nauseated him, but it was his only handle now. He had only slipped in enough humility as he had thought was absolutely necessary, but if it proved enough he would find out soon. He had a feeling that securing himself a job with Albus Dumbledore would require much further correspondence than the arguments of one letter.

***

By the end of dinner everything seemed to be almost back to normal. Dumbledore--Albus was behaving the way he used to: joking and laughing and eating...much to the relief of other members of the staff. He had been penned up inside his office for a week, pining for resumes, and apparently reflecting on the dire state of the wizarding world of the present.

Inside, James was still shaking from the memory of Albus´ alarming monologue. He suspected that he would never stop shaking; that small jerk of the rug of consistency beneath his feet was enough to send him sprawling on his back. Albus: strong, stable, calm, fearless Albus had slipped out of his famous characteristics for a moment, and that was enough to make James worry.

He didn´t forget it, even as he walked with a chuckling Albus back up the spiral staircase to his office.

"...but when she tried to get into the hospital wing," Albus was chortling as he twisted the knob to his office door, "the students had locked it! Little did she know there was a group of seventh years watching from behind the staircase...and you know poor Poppy, she had an absolute conniption. There she stood, with an unconscious child in her arms, and she couldn´t get in; started shouting passwords at the doors, thinking I´d locked them...and all of a sudden--poof! Said unconscious child bursts into a shower of confetti. She was furious with them all, and of course she came complaining to me...well, I couldn´t help but chuckle a bit, and she wouldn´t speak to me for days..."

He had quietly closed the door behind James, gestured for him to sit down, and shuffled some papers on his desk before trailing off quite suddenly. The careless expression he had worn was weathered away into one of perplexity as his long fingers turned over a thin ivory envelope bearing an oddly intricate wax seal.

"Another resume?" James asked cautiously as Albus broke the seal and unfolded the sheer parchment within. He said nothing as his eyes scanned the letter. Light shining through the thin parchment revealed to James that the writer´s script was sharp and scrawling. His eyes moved from the letter to Albus´ face, to catch his nonverbal response to the content of it...and found Albus´ sharp blue eyes boring right back into his own. The old man´s eyes flicked back down to the letter and scanned the last few lines of it before he slowly set it down.

Thinking, perhaps, that Albus had not heard him, James tried again: "Anoth--"

"Yes, a resume," said Albus in an oddly guarded tone, and he lowered himself into his seat. James watched him with increasing unease as his fingers met at the tips and those eyes regarded him analytically above them. "Despite it´s lack of content, I believe it´s the best resume I´ve received as of yet."

"Ah," said James blandly, unsure whether Albus´ statement was intended to be sarcastic or genuine.

He was soberly surveyed for several long moments. Once again, Albus Dumbledore´s swiftly changing moods had befuddled James. Now, as those crystal blue eyes drilled into his skull, James felt almost as though he were being sized up or measured--something that made him endlessly restless and edgy. The end of this awkward period found him shifting uncomfortably in his seat and averting his eyes. Albus´ expression now turned from perplexity to an inexplicably deep-seated concern.

"James."

Finally the awkward silence was broken! He almost sighed aloud in relief. "Er...yes?"

"Are you aware that right now I can see exactly how uncomfortable you are? I can predict exactly what you are thinking, and what your plan of action would be in the near future."

"Er..." James stated uselessly. His hand reached back to scratch the back of his head as a tacit, body-language filler. He hadn´t intended to say anything; he just felt it was his turn to make some sort of vocal retort. "I see..."

"I can also predict exactly what your responses will be, even before I provoke them."

Now he was beginning to feel annoyed. He couldn´t quite pick out what he had done this evening to aggravate Albus, or what had set him off so suddenly. He licked his lips, which were suddenly very dry, blinked a few times, and was about to ask Albus just what he was on about when--

"I mean to say, is this how you would conduct yourself around someone you trusted less?"

"I conduct myself the same no matter whose presence I´m in," James responded instantly and stubbornly. It was his code of honor; something his father had taught him since he was very small: handle one person the way you would handle all people; behave the same way inside the home and outside the home; treat everyone equally. He felt he had answered this question very competently, but as Albus sighed slightly, James felt he might have missed the point.

"Even in the presence of someone you weren´t entirely sure you could trust? What about someone like, say...like Severus Snape?"

There was a ringing silence, during which James was forced to allow that long and purposely forgotten name to act as a knife, reopening scarred memories. It took a few blinks to resurface into the real world; it took a few quick breaths to remember that he had stopped screaming five years ago.

"Excuse me?" he croaked.

Albus´ tone did not alter in the slightest. It remained smooth and cutting as he repeated himself. "I said: would you behave in the same way in the presence of Severus Snape as you would in mine?"

How could Albus ask him this? The room had suddenly grown stuffy and claustrophobic, and James tugged slightly at his collar. "What--"

"Answer the question, James."

"I don´t...why..." his eyes roved down to the letter laying between Albus´ propped elbows, searching frantically for a distraction or an easy change of subject... but a horrible wave of dread crashed down over him as he read quite clearly (though upside-down) the signature: Severus Snape.

The last button on his straightjacket of self-control popped. All of it--the memories, the sudden claustrophobia of the room, the maddening alliteration of a name he had hoped never to stumble across again--it all exploded in his face.

"No way," James burst out, standing up violently enough to skid his heavy, high-backed chair a few feet away from him. "You´ve got to be kidding me! You´re not hiring--"

"I never said I was hiring anyone, James."

"But that letter--"

"--But now that you´ve brought it to my attention, I think this might be a good experience for you: working with an enemy."

James was thunderstruck, panicked. "A...a good experience? A good experience? This is the kid who got sent home from Hogwarts a day early because he tortured me, remember? How in the name of Circe--"

Albus held up a hand and cited from the letter quite calmly: "`I would offer my service to you in hopes that I could make amends for my irresponsible behavior five years ago.´"

James laughed out loud: an uncharacteristically high-pitched, nervous cackle. "Oh please, do you honestly believe that? This is Snape we´re talking about! You think he wouldn´t lie to you? I mean, come on, he´s done it before, hasn´t he?"

"Actually, no," said Albus, fingering his beard thoughtfully. "He has never flatly lied to me before. As far as I know, he has no idea that you teach here at the school. And you´re right: this is Snape we´re talking about. Why would he go to all the trouble of lying about such a thing for a job here? James, he obviously has reasons of his own, and his presence would serve to keep you from feeling all too comfortable with your surroundings."

"Exactly!" James exclaimed angrily.

"Exactly," said Albus grimly.

James stared in horror as Albus´ reasoning began to unfold.

"In times like these, James, we can´t be too careful. I´ve let it culture in your personality for far too long, but you must not go on with life so carelessly; so predictably. As much as you may hate to hear it, this would be good for you."

"But Albus," James pleaded frantically. "It´s just like you said: we can´t be too careful! I don´t know about you, but I´ve never considered Snape to be an altogether trustworthy person."

"I trust him no more than you, my boy, but I know him better. He is an insecure, pitiful human being, and there is only one of him. Under my eye, what damage do you think he could do?"

James rambled on, scrabbling for a handle. "He was always friends with Malfoy and his boys, and they´re all Death Eaters by now..."

"There is only one of him," Albus repeated firmly. "And being insecure and clever at the same time, he would know better than to act irrationally. As for the rest of them, nothing else will change. No one I deem a threat will be allowed near this school. Trust me, James. Snape will do us no harm. No matter whom he serves, his first priority is himself."

There was a long, heavy pause. James stared defiantly at his former headmaster, a sudden surge of adolescent rebellion rising in him. He was breathing heavily through his nostrils, and wearing a short path in the floor.

"I won´t teach with him," said James flatly, stopping mid-pace, his hand slicing in gesticulation through the air.

"You don´t have to teach with him. You teach Defense. He would teach Potions. They´re on completely different ends of the school. You wouldn´t even have to see him except to pass him in the corridor and at mealtimes."

"I´ll quit," James threatened in a warning tone. It was something he had no intention of doing, but he was on his last leg of contradiction. If empty threats were his only hope...

"Okay," said Albus blandly.

"No, I´ll really quit! I don´t need this job anyway. I could stay home more often; Lily´s just had the baby, and I´d be much more useful helping out at home than here arguing with Snape."

"Okay," said Albus again, the corners of his silver mustache twitching.

"What, you don´t think I´m serious? You don´t think I have better things to do? You won´t even be able to find another DADA teacher! Sirius is your other option, and he sure as hell won´t take the job once he finds out Snape´s teaching here."

"Hmm," said Albus.

"That´s it! I´m leaving! I´ll pack tonight, Albus. I´m going to pack right now."

"Okay."

James pushed in his chair, fuming and furious at not being taken seriously, and stormed to the door. He threw it open, and stamped out. As he clattered his irritable way down the spiral staircase, Albus´ voice boomed after him sounding extremely entertained: "See you in the morning, James!"

***

Dear Mr. Snape,

It certainly has been a long time.

I have taken your letter into serious consideration; you are tenfold qualified for this position, and certainly the best candidate I have encountered so far. There are a few minor issues I would like to clear up before we continue with this transaction, however.

Firstly, I must inquire as to what motivated you to respond to this job offer. I am well aware that your financial status does not require you to make any kind of a living at all, so why teach? What are your aspirations as a Hogwarts teacher? It is important for a Headmaster to know the drive of his employees.

Secondly, the matter of this child you seem to be caring for comes into question. Hogwarts teachers generally reside at the school for the duration of the school year, only going home for holidays and emergencies. You would, of course, be granted several rooms for your living space, and there would be more than enough room for this child to stay with you at the school. Even so, I want to be sure you are comfortable moving this child to a new and strange location at such a young age. I am not sure that Hogwarts would be an altogether appropriate environment for the likes of a five-year-old.

Thirdly, and most importantly, I am afraid that despite your gracious offer to `make up for your irresponsible behavior five years ago,´ I must be sure that I can fully trust you to be responsible for your own actions in the presence of your students and fellow staff members. Now, this slight distrust will not affect my decision whether to give you this job or not, but be forewarned: your first few weeks here will be a trial; I will be keeping an eye on you, Severus, and if I detect any indication that you cannot be trusted, you will be sent home.

You are first in the running so far, Mr. Snape, and I look forward to your reply. Hopefully we can get all this business behind us and get ready for the beginning of a new year!

Courteously yours,

Albus Dumbledore

***

It was Wednesday morning. Charity sat across the table from Severus, still wearing her pajamas, which always consisted of some sort of discarded old garment of his. This morning she was wearing an old pair of boxers (which fit like distinctly odd Capris, or Hobbit-pants on her small body) and a plain gray t-shirt that Severus had frequently worn under his robes when he attended Hogwarts. Charity had had another nightmare last night, and now she was hunched sleepily over her plate, her face edging closer and closer in slow nodding motions, until Severus would cough, snap his fingers, or make some other kind of sharp noise to make her jerk back up again.

When the midnight owl swooped into the dining hall, Severus nearly threw his fork down in nervous anticipation. This owl quite possibly carried his fate printed on parchment in its beak. As it flew in lower, narrower circles toward him, he felt his stomach mimicking its motion. The owl clattered to a halt on the table, shrieked, and held out its leg to Severus. With shaking hands, he untied the parchment, cracked the Hogwarts seal, and unfolded the letter.

As he read Dumbledore´s "firstly," section, he had only one thing to say.

"Shit," he groaned, though he hadn´t been expecting anything less.

Charity´s head jerked up again. "Shit?" she repeated innocently. Severus raised an eyebrow at her over the letter, but was far too distracted to reprimand her.

The Headmaster had asked the venomous question: Why? Severus only skimmed through the rest of the letter; he could slide through all the other questions with ease, but the why had him cornered. He glanced up at Charity once more. Moving to Hogwarts wouldn´t bother her, would it? She´d adapted to the strangeness of her life so far without much trouble, and whatever Dumbledore said, Severus was sure Hogwarts couldn´t be a worse environment for her than the Snape Manor was.

But--why? Why, damn it... He tried to think. It didn´t work.

He mentally cursed himself; he should have thought this through more thoroughly before he had owled Dumbledore in the first place. Did he really think he could get past Dumbledore that easily?

Well, no point sitting here and bitching about it, he thought vaguely. Giving up his sad attempt at eating, Severus called for a house-elf to take his plate, and stood. He decided to go retrieve a quill and parchment from his room. He looked back at Charity, figured she was far too out of it to get into any trouble during his short absence, and trekked to his chambers.

It is amazing how the atmosphere around a person can change when he feels pressured. Suddenly the characteristic echo of his footsteps in the Snape Manor seemed even more resonant; the gargoyles had inexplicably increased in number and were everywhere, and even more sunlight had been choked off by the lack of windows in the place. He hurried on his way, glaring at the deformed, surly statues as he passed them.

When he came back into the dining hall, he discovered that Charity had fallen face-first into her eggs, and her hunched back rose and fell with each deep, sleepy breath. With each exhale, her eggs gurgled on her plate. He snorted, grateful for this brief, comic relief from his duty.

"Charity!" he barked.

"Huh?" her head shot up from her plate, and her gurgling eggs seemed hesitant to part with it. After a moment, part of them fell with a soft splat back onto the table. Despite his stress, Severus grinned at her.

"Done eating?" He remarked casually.

"I fell on my plate," she responded disgustedly, her lip curling as she felt her rather slimy face.

"Yes," smirked Severus. "Here--" He strode around the table to her, picked up a cloth napkin, and wiped off her face. "Time to go back to bed?"

"Not tired," she insisted slowly, vigorously rubbing her right eye with her fist.

Severus defied her, pulling back her chair and lifting her off of it, but she did not resist. She allowed him to situate her comfortably in his arms, and lolled back against him as he carried her back to bed. She was deeply asleep before he even reached his destination. For a moment, his quill, parchment, and responsibility lay absolutely forgotten on the table. He set her down on the bed, lifted her legs, and pulled the blankets over her.

He sighed as harsh reality came back to him, and regretfully turned and left Charity´s room. He returned to the dining hall, and to his quill and parchment, and planned a rebuttal to Dumbledore´s letter.

Dear Headmaster, he scrawled in opening.

I perfectly understand your hesitance to hire me, and I will answer your questions to the best of my ability.

He paused. No, no, no, he thought. That was blatantly stating to Dumbledore, `give me a moment to bullshit you.´ He crumpled it up and pulled a new sheet of parchment toward him. He tried again:

Dear Headmaster,

I quite understand your hesitance to hire me, and I would be pleased to answer your questions.

Do not be concerned for the child´s sake; I´m sure she will adjust to life at Hogwarts easily. Her entire life has been an adjustment, and I am sure she will handle it just as well as I.

Damn, he thought. That went by much too quickly. Now the hard part.

My reasons for wanting to teach--

"Empathy, empathy, empathy," Severus muttered to himself under his breath. It has to flow together. Keep it tied together... He re-inked his quill, licked his lips, and strove on.

My reasons for wanting to teach actually have a lot to do with my concern for the child´s well being.

Very nice, he thought, smiling to himself. Worded awkwardly in his impulse, but that only added to its...charm.

We have both spent the majority of these past five years inside this manor with no one else to talk to. I think it would be wise for her to interact with other people on a daily basis, and it would be good for me as well.

He sat back in his chair and reread it. He didn´t believe he had ever written anything more untrue-- or more convincing. He continued:

Also, I feel that my talents are going to waste. I miss the art of potion making, and I would relish an opportunity to practice it again. Your position seemed to be perfect.

He sat back again. At length, he decided that this argument was sufficient enough, and sought to tackle the final issue of Dumbledore´s response:

I would never expect you to fully forgive my actions five years ago without question, and I am more than willing to prove to you that I am changed. I hope that I can earn your trust.

I hope that I have answered all your questions satisfactorily.

Sincerely,

Severus Snape

He hesitated, his quill hovering over the parchment for an instant, and then dropped it in triumph and leaned back, blowing on the fresh ink. As soon as it had dried, he folded the parchment as anally as humanly possible and sealed it with a couple drops of wax from the burning candle in front of him on the table.

He whistled, and the owl swooped back down to him, jerking its leg out irritably once more. Severus awkwardly tied the folded parchment to the owl´s leg and fed it some uneaten sausage from Charity´s plate. It catapulted into flight, and the air from its wings puffed into his face, moving his hair.

"Here goes," he muttered, and watched the owl soar through thin slices of early morning light that had somehow finally filtered into his dark manor.

***

He received a response the very next day: a concise letter, affirming his success at winning the position of Potions Master at Hogwarts, and inviting him to a mandatory all-staff meeting on Monday afternoon.

I daresay you know most of the staff from your time as a student here, but I believe a little catching up might enlighten you, Dumbledore had written. Severus wasn´t sure why, but something about the way that statement was worded gave it a distinctly ominous ring. He left it at the fact that being formally presented to an entire staff of teachers at a mandatory all-staff meeting seemed a distinctly ominous event, at least to him. He wondered if the said `enlightenment´ was intended for him or for his former teachers, most of whom must remember him as `the student who attacked our honorable, handsome, promising, athletic, and undeniably wholesome Head Boy, James Potter.´ It was Severus´ only chance to impress upon them that he was not a danger to himself or others any longer.

Dumbledore had also requested that he bring `the child,´ who should probably be introduced to the strangers she would soon be seeing every day. Severus had informed her of the move that day, and she had hardly seemed phased. All she had said was, "You´re coming too, right?" and when he affirmed her, she hadn´t had anything else to complain about. Severus wondered how she would fare in a room of people staring at her; he, for one, looked forward to it as an absolutely hellish kind of torture, and Charity did have some of the same genes. Then again, a sudden bitter thought invading his mind said, that was probably a gene passed down from his mother´s side, so she wouldn´t have to worry about it. He quickly banished this train of thought before it could culture any further.

All in all, when the brand on his forearm burned that anticipated Sunday evening, Severus prepared to answer his Call with a thrill of accomplishment. High strung and extremely awake, he threw on his cloak, checked on Charity (who was blessedly sound asleep this time), and Dispparated.

He Apparated into a dingy sitting room with a fire burning behind the grate. Cobwebs stretched in wide screens over corners and disused, antique furniture, and thick dust shifted in small clouds beneath his feet. The fire filled the room with a less-than glorious glow, emphasizing the decrepit state of the place. This was a room he recognized; he had been present at many Death Eater gatherings held here. He wondered at the sentiment the Dark Lord must have for this house, for it seemed a totally unremarkable location to Severus. Meetings here were always crammed, airless, and muggy.

For the next five minutes, the room was filled with the sound of swishing cloaks and murmurs as Voldemort´s most devout followers answered his call (those arriving at the five-minute mark doing so as unobtrusively as possible, muttering frantic apologies for their tardiness). As the Dark Lord began his customary welcome, Severus took his own silent role-call. Though he couldn´t see faces, he had memorized the voices that spoke from beneath the hoods.

At his right, Deucalion Malfoy, shoulder to shoulder with his son. Beside them stood Victor and Syrinx Lestrange, graduates of Hogwarts the year Severus arrived there...Elliot Macnair, a classmate...of course, Crabbe and Goyle...Antonin Dolohov and Evan Rosier, more of Lucius´ boys...Ethan Travers and his father ...Augustus Rookwood...Barty Crouch Jr, who had joined only recently; he had graduated only the previous year.... Severus continued mentally ticking off names, following the Dark Lord´s trek around the circle.

The Dark Lord passed him by, peering into his hood briefly, his thin mouth curling: "I trust you have succeeded in your task?"

"Yes, my Lord," Severus murmured promptly, careful to belie his inner self-satisfaction.

"Good," Voldemort said curtly, and moved on.

As Severus´ heart rate returned to normal, he continued recounting names...until...

"Wait--" he muttered, his internal dialogue slipping out. Luckily no one seemed to have noticed. Igor Karkaroff stood to his left, but...who was standing to his left? It had previously been Trevor Mulciber, but Severus had clearly seen Voldemort pass the man to Karkaroff´s left without a word, and address the next man in the line as Mulciber. Severus did a quick double take of the lineup, counting; no, no, the numbers didn´t match up. There was a new Death Eater present at tonight´s gathering. Severus wondered how this new member knew where his place in the circle was to be; usually, new members were presented to the Death Eaters before they were assigned a place...

Severus didn´t have long to contemplate this, as the Dark Lord had finished his greeting, and was speaking again. He quickly brought his mind to attention, lest he be called on.

"My Followers," Voldemort said. "Tonight´s will be a brief meeting. I have Called many of you individually since our last official gathering to delegate you each a task to help fulfill my Plan. Tonight you will each inform me of your progress. Starting with our most important role--" Severus felt a rush of pride. "--Snape. You have succeeded?"

"Yes, my Lord," Severus answered again, stepping forward into the firelight. "Dumbledore has appointed me Hogwarts Potions Master. I am to move in tomorrow afternoon and attend a staff meeting."

"Very good," Voldemort said, smiling grimly. "I knew I could count upon you."

Murmurs of jealousy could be heard following this rare praise.

"Your task is to be more specific than I have clarified, Severus," he continued. "Not only will you be my permeation into Hogwarts, it will be your responsibility to give me regular information concerning a certain individual now working at the school whom I will indicate to you after you have settled in your new location. Be prepared."

"Yes, my Lord," said Severus yet again, wondering who this `certain individual´ might be.

He moved on, addressing others in the group. Updates were announced, several punishments were dealt out for failure to meet deadlines (Severus had become accustomed to witnessing these, as they happened at nearly every gathering), and new orders were given. Rookwood was tortured for an exceptionally long time tonight; he had failed to persuade Ludo Bagman to trust him with information about an effort being made against the Death Eaters. Even Severus thought this torture was well deserved, as Ludo Bagman was the most prominent imbecile he had ever met. He couldn´t imagine that persuading Bagman to gossip a little was a terribly difficult task.

The meeting lasted only about three quarters of an hour. Severus tried to linger behind the rest, to find out who the new member was, but when he turned to get a better look at the man he met the Dark Lord´s pointed glare. His mask of self-discipline failed him for a moment and he jerked, but he quickly Disapparated before he was chastised.

"Damn," he muttered, pulling off his cloak and sitting on the edge of his bed. He was endlessly curious as to who this new Death Eater was, and why he hadn´t been ceremoniously presented to the circle. He supposed it wasn´t important; probably just some seventh year at the school who didn´t want his parents to find out or something...

Suddenly very tired, Severus got undressed except for his boxers, checked on Charity again (still sleeping; tonight was a good night, apparently), and got into bed. He had an important day tomorrow; something he mustn´t mess up. He had planned to pack up his things tonight, but he figured he would have plenty of time in the morning.

He slept well.

***

James didn´t normally mind staff meetings, but he had a feeling that from now on he would regard them with nothing less than absolute dread.

He had seen the carriage arrive at the gate from his office window, but had quickly flicked his wand at the shade, pulling it shut. He didn´t even want to see that man until it was absolutely forced upon him.

But, as cruel fate insists, time will fly when one is dreading something. He watched the short hand of the clock on the wall fall upon the two with (or so it seemed to James) a deafening thud. He was hunched over behind his desk, a look of constipated loathing swallowing his boyish features. His breath, which he had been holding for an unknown amount of time, seemed to be forcing its way out of his larynx in a drawn-out, suppressed hiss. He couldn´t seem to make himself move from his seat. Seconds later...

Bam, bam, bam!

"James!"

"Whaaaat?"

The heavy door to his office opened, and he was awakened to reality by the harsh click of Minerva McGonagall´s high-heeled boots on the stone floor. "Are you aware that we have a staff meeting? Now?"

"Well--"

"Never mind, don´t answer that. Albus seemed to think you might need a little...encouragement to get there on time."

"Well, I--"

"Why is it, James, that whenever I have a conversation with you I forget that you are supposed to be my peer?"

"Perhaps it´s because you never really have a conversation with me," said James lightly, a teasing smile creeping on his face as he stood and pushed in his chair. "Any dialogue between us usually consists of you telling me what to do and me excusing myself for not doing it."

She looked at him blankly. "Was that supposed to be an argument for your defense, Potter? Quite honestly, I couldn´t tell..."

"Me neither; I was just procrastinating."

"I know." She sighed and tipped her head to the side, for an instant flashing him a sympathetic look. When he blinked, it was gone, and she was crisply Professor McGonagall again. "Let´s go."

James trudged behind the Deputy Headmistress, building up his resolve. After all, he was an adult. Why should he let Snape, of all people, intimidate him? It was time to put old trauma behind and face facts: Snape was a colleague now. James knew he wasn´t always going to be able to work with people he liked; he would just have to get used to it, deal with it, and move on. Like an adult would do.

"Fizzing Whizbee," James heard Minerva mutter to the gargoyle barring the entrance to Albus´ domain. A thin tracery of white light raced about its features for a split second before fading away to nothing, and the gargoyle scraped its way to the side, revealing the doorway. They stepped onto the granite staircase, which instantly began to spiral upwards as the gargoyle slid back into place at their backs.

As the unremarkable oak door came into view, James felt his stomach drop. Minerva grasped the brass knocker and rapped it against the door twice in quick succession. An instant later, the door creaked open and Albus´ amiable face peeped around the corner.

"Ah, Minerva, James!" he said, opening the door wider. "Do come in!"

They walked in, and Albus shut the door behind him. There were perhaps thirty rather cushy, high-backed chairs crammed in rows; all of them were occupied except for the two directly in front of Albus´ desk. James kept his eyes firmly to the front of the room as he sat down, though he noticed an appalled-sounding splutter from the end of the row behind him.

"Good, we´re all here," said Albus, taking a seat behind his desk and peering cheerfully around at them all. "Let´s see...Of course, first order of business: I´d like to introduce our newest staff member, Severus Snape. He will be teaching Potions, and will take Professor Duvall´s place as the new Head of Slytherin House."

There was scattered applause as Albus gestured to a seat one behind and a few seats down from James´. His hands stayed glued to his knees, and his face glued to Albus. Unfortunately, a sharp, blue glare told him he would have to face the music sooner or later. When the applause had died down and Albus had moved on to the next issue, James craned his head to the left, catching a glimpse of his nemesis out of the corner of his eye.

Albus´ voice was completely drowned out by a horrified jolt all through James´ body as the corner of his left eye was met with a full-on, black-eyed stare. He gulped rather loudly, and the corner of Snape´s thin mouth quirked upward. His ebony eyes regarded James with disdainful sarcasm, and he tipped his head to the side, smiling sourly, in a kind of head-curtsey. James furiously snapped back to attention, glaring at Albus. If he was as `transparent´ as the old man seemed to think he would be able to clearly read James´ expression.

For the rest of the meeting, James sat stiffly in his chair, staring determinedly at Albus, though focusing completely on the holes being pierced into the back of his head. The hairs on the back of his neck were at rigid attention. When James finally caught a finite tone in Albus´ voice, and people around him began rustling to their feet and milling toward the door, James shot out of his seat. He rushed to merge with the crowd of departing teachers, but a hand fell on his shoulder and pulled him back.

He turned around to face Albus, who smiled grimly at him and said, "James, why don´t you stay a moment?"

"I have work to do," retaliated James quickly.

"Oh, I´m sure it can wait, James. Plenty of time for work later! Not to worry..."

James was initiating his furiously telepathic expression again, but Albus ignored it and called to someone standing behind them: "Severus!" He flicked his wand over James´ shoulder and all of the chairs disappeared except for three.

"Please sit down," he said, pointing at the chairs. His face assumed a somewhat sober tension.

James reluctantly sat down in the leftmost chair and watched in revulsion as Severus Snape sat down in the chair next to him. He suddenly realized that Snape was not alone; a little girl with curly, black hair was scooting back into the chair next to him. They were obviously related somehow; they had the same tilted eyebrows and shade of hair. However, James couldn´t see how anyone related to Snape could be so...cute. Perhaps, he thought, it was just a temporary charm of youth. Her large brown eyes stared at him curiously.

"Hello, Potter," said Snape, each syllable containing a derisive diphthong. "How´s life?"

Albus seemed to be making no move; he had sat back in his chair and was watching impassively.

"Good," said James stiffly. "You?"

"Oh, fabulous," Snape responded, jerking his head slightly to brush a lock of greasy hair from his eyes. "Though I was not informed I´d be seeing you here." He had the insolence to deliver Albus a pointed glare. "It might have been a helpful bit of information."

"How so, Severus?" inquired Albus casually from his reclined position. "You are free to leave whenever you wish, of course. This is not only a trial for my sake."

Snape´s face grew even sourer as Albus emphasized the word `trial.´

James was still trying to console himself mentally: he is an insecure, pitiful human being...

"Oh, I have no intention of going," said Snape, always an artist of vocal expression, able to mix amicability with threat all in one small sentence.

"Good!" said Albus brightly. "I trust you have found your accommodations suitable?"

"Quite," said Snape dryly.

"I was disappointed that you didn´t seize an opportunity to introduce your little sister to the staff, Severus," Albus continued.

"I didn´t see the need," said Snape curtly. "She´ll meet who she needs to meet eventually."

"Well perhaps you could introduce her to one person she needs to meet," said Albus persistently, nodding to James.

Snape´s face twisted in distaste, as though James obviously didn´t qualify as someone the little girl needed to meet. In fact, James detected that Snape would rather she not associate with him at all.

"Charity," he said sharply, "this is James Potter. Another teacher." James felt a spark of indignity at this introduction; Snape had a way of exaggerating diction to portray the insignificance of things. Or people.

"Hi, Charity," James said warmly, smiling at the little girl and holding out his hand.

"Hi," she said, hopping out of her chair to shake his hand. As she did so, she whispered rather loudly: "He doesn´t like you much, does he?"

For one brief instant, James and his enemy were synonymously entertained. All three men present snorted.

"Leave it to a child to get right to the point," said Albus, sitting forward and smiling slightly. "Just the thing I wanted to discuss with you both."

The mood in the room turned sour instantly, and Charity let go of James´ hand and struggled back into her seat.

"I want to remind both of you that there is a code of conduct here at Hogwarts that must be minded."

Both of the young men glared at him.

"And while it may have been accepted to disregard this code as students, now that you are teachers such disregard will not be tolerated. I expect you to treat each other respectfully and to be a good example to your students. Understood?"

"Understood," said James. Snape merely jerked his head in a nod.

"Wonderful," said Albus, soundly slightly weary. "As the first day of term begins tomorrow, I suggest you both go prepare your first lessons.... Ah, Severus! I´d almost forgotten--" he added as they stood. He rummaged around in his desk for a moment, and then pulled out a sheet of paper. "Your class schedule."

Snape took it, barely glancing at it. "Thank you, Headmaster," he said, and headed for the door.

James hung back for a moment after Snape had left. He was just about to make a furious remark when Albus yawned and pointed at the door.

"You´ll learn to live with it," he said patently. James mouthed silently at him for a moment. Then, giving up, he left.

As he emerged from behind the gargoyle, he saw Snape walking down the corridor toward the staircases that led to the dungeons. The little girl trailed happily after him, jogging now and then to keep up with his merciless stride. James suddenly felt very sorry for her; he wondered if Snape was as cold to her as he was to other people.

"Snape!" he shouted sharply. Snape stopped, but did not turn around, though Charity did. She smiled at him. James walked a few steps toward them, within a reasonable speaking difference. "I don´t care what Albus said," he snapped. "I´m warning you now: don´t mess with me this year." Charity stopped smiling.

"Oh, don´t worry, Potter," Snape´s voice echoed from his back, melodiously snide with that ever-present hint of threat, "I have no desire whatsoever to `mess with you.´"

He started walking again. James ran after him and caught up to them, cutting in front of Snape and looking him straight in the eye. "Don´t think for a second that I trust you, Snape," he hissed.

To his fury, Snape actually laughed.

"Oh you don´t, do you?" he sneered. "Good. Well, perhaps since I seem to threaten your masculinity so much, you had best stay out of my way. I wouldn´t want to interfere with your heroic reputation."

"You don´t threaten me at all," snapped James. There was a long pause, during which James watched with disgust as a cynical smile grew on Snape´s face.

"Then why are we still standing here?" said Snape, and he brushed past James without another word.

The little girl hesitated, looking at James solemnly, and then she ran after her brother.

James stood and watched them with growing unease until they had disappeared around a corner. Despite what Albus thought, James considered Severus Snape very capable of causing considerable damage. After all, James knew from personal experience. Albus wasn´t there five years ago. Hadn´t witnessed it.... Hadn´t felt it....

Albus hadn´t seen him lose control.