The Magic of Old

REFLECTIONS

I close my eyes and dream of you, my love

You cannot be real

For I am real

I am alone

Will I know love

Who would need one such as I

I could never have you

Who will stand next to me

Shall I wait forever

Alone

My Cries go unheard

I wish not to be real

Is that you that I see

Are you waiting for me

Passion such as this

Leaves me mad to exist

How can I love you if we've have never met

Was I made to be yours

Save me from this place, from the dark

Alone

Would you run with me forever

Your touch will heal my scars

Your love will save us

I Love you

I crave to know you love me

I can no longer fight this

End this teasing with your eyes

Kiss me

I would give my life for just one night

One night

One minute

Endless...

Chapter 1 : The Boy at My Left

When I was small, I would sit alone in the darkness of my perpetual thought wondering if I would ever leave this place. My life was a room in the basement of stone walls, stone floors, and a water stained ceiling that reminded me of how ordinary I was. There were books alphabetically assigned to the shelves containing words by the millions. None could clarify or articulate the anguish I experienced. My only companion was a piano. Hours I spent playing, safe from the terror above. The Guardians would not tolerate the loudness of a child, but the music of the piano kept them pacified long enough for me to nearly heal.

It was mostly at night when they came to me, and always night when they would abscond with my broken form into the shadowy cover of moonless skies. It was all part of the show; the great secret that was my life. Forever I was type cast in a recurring role that landed me center stage in harms way. I wanted to pull the great velvet curtains in a grand finale. It was not to be. Each time I was nearer to death I was reconstituted, diluted and disillusioned.

How quickly I tried to forget that there was a time when all that had changed. Before the running began, before the lies were told, he was there. Across the room his eyes met mine. He was barely a child, not nearly a man. That was the day I wanted to live on through the torture, through the stones, out of the spotlight, and into his arms.

I decided it was time to finish the miraculous journey that had started the day I began my education outside of The Guardians' house. The castle hadn't changed in all these years, but had I? I was arriving hours late, as was my usual habit. Nerves were clawing in the pit of my stomach as they churned boiling acid and making my head spin.

What am I thinking returning to this place? Have I gone mad?

The doors of the Great Hall were in my hands now. Should I open them?

I backed away from the doors and began to pace, My steps matching the furious thumping in my chest. I pulled the cloak from my head, straightened up, and drew air slowly into my lungs.

I am no longer running.

At his request, I met with my former headmaster two weeks ago in a pub outside of Cordoba, Spain. He and I had not spoken for nearly fourteen years and when I looked into his kindly eyes I felt like a child again. Albus Dumbledore was the wisest wizard I had ever known. When he asked me return with him and teach in his school I could not resist. Rumors and horrific accounts about the years since I had left kept tugging at me, haunting me. But in Dumbledore's eyes I found answers. I knew there was another teacher at Hogwarts, a fellow student of mine, who lingered there just as I had left him; betrayed, dejected, outraged, and very much alone.

I had been a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry once before. I was a member of Gryffindor House. That was before the running began. It was the race against myself that I could never seem to win.

"Just open the doors," I whispered softly, willing my hands to move. I could hear him addressing the students at the end of the feast.

"Before you leave for your dorms I have an announcement to make. We are adding a new course of study this year which I hope many of you will consider," said Dumbledore. "The Magic of Muggles will be taught by a returning student to Hogwarts who, in addition to her teaching duties, will be working toward her graduation." That is when the doors to the Great Hall groaned loudly and swung open. All heads turned to see me. "Ah, Miss Kinsington, so good to see you again," he said. I wanted to die just at that moment. Fearing I would pass out, I began to walk forward. "I hope your journey was pleasant. Students, I present to you Miss Ellie Kinsington."

I hurriedly swept through the hall and rounded the staff table at such speed that I must have appeared to be running away from some unseen assailant. That wasn't far from the truth. To my horror, the only vacant seat was next to Potions Master Severus Snape.

"Now that Miss Kinsington has taken her due place, I think it is appropriate to begin another year," the Headmaster sang out. "Prefects, please escort your fellow house members to their new homes. This will be a most wonderful year."

Even as Dumbledore's words of warmth filled the air, the icy hate emanating from my left pierced my skin. I dare not look at him and knew he wouldn't waste a look on me. Luckily Snape did me the favor of leaving immediately following the feast. He rose from his seat to my left and swept out the door behind us. I lingered at the table paralyzed by the memory of my own commencement feast...

I was ten when I was accepted to Hogwarts. This was surprising since the normal age of acceptance was eleven. I think Dumbledore always knew, though I never told him, what horrors waited for me at home. I had never been to any school before because The Guardians chose to educate me at home in the same little room where I slept and played and grew. They knew all along. They must have because they weren't at all shocked as they packed my things.

"Magical? This is fantasy? There are no such things as witches!" I said aloud to them as they packed my bags. Visions of cackling green hags in pointed black hats with long, warty noses filled my head then. "Aren't I ugly enough? Do I really have to turn the color of old pickles?"

They put me on the train before I could fathom that this was the first time I had been in public during daylight. I was so nervous. After my arrival in Hogsmeade and crossing the lake with a gentle giant of man called Hagrid, I thought I had seen everything. Then Professor McGonagall called me to the front to be sorted by the old raggedy hat. When the hat spoke I jumped and threw it off my head.

"How did it do that?" I screamed. I must be crazy? Hats can't talk! I heard laughing and jeering from the students that filled the hall.

Dumbledore turned his warm, sparkling eyes on me and then spoke, "My dear child, lets have another try, shall we? The Sorting Hat will need to concentrate, so wait patiently while it does. Here now." He put it back on my head.

The hat was not pleased at my having hurled it to the ground. In retaliation it bloody well took its time. It finally began thinking out loud, "Hufflepuff...I think not. Although it could be the answer... Ravenclaw... Closer yet ...very, very clever indeed, aren't you...it's just that Slytherin seems more your style...cunning, ambitious yet...Gryffindor, courage and bravery are there...but where to put you? Oh my, that must be it! A first for sure here at Hogwarts... well, I think I will have to decide for you then...so it's GRYFFINDOR!!!" shouted the hat.

I was horrified to find all eyes on me. I walked weakly to the Gryffindor table and took a seat at the end, facing toward the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables. Gradually, the students seated nearest welcomed me and then the feast began.

One night here and already I am an outcast among weirdoes.

That is when I saw him: a pale Slytherin boy with dark hair and eyes was staring at me inquisitively. A feeling like hot bubbles began to brew in my stomach. I couldn't break away from his eyes and I didn't want to...

I shook the memories out of my head and stood up. I exited the hall through the teacher's door and walked alone down the dark corridor which would eventually lead to my rooms. Thankfully I made it to my place without further drama. Professor Saturn had lived here when I was a student. I was pleased. It was rather nice with an excellent view of the grounds. Without further ado I prepared for bed.

You are home again, Ellie. Just tell yourself you're home. This is what I was advising myself to do, even though I wasn't yet convinced of it. Where exactly is home anyway? Enough debating for now. Time for sleep.

As usual dreams did little to comfort me. When your life is filled with madness you can't really hope for visions of sugarplums dancing in your dreams.

When I woke early the next morning I felt drained, but forced myself to get up. "Merlin's Beard, do I need a coffee," I muttered.

Good old Hogwarts.

There was a pot of rich smelling coffee, complete with creams and sugars of different varieties, on the table near the patio doors.

How I do love house elves.

I toasted as I pored myself a magnificent cup of liquid energy, "Here's to me and my bold endeavors." Why was it that no matter how I tried, I could never brew coffee as good as this?

So, what do non-Muggle teachers wear these days? I contemplated while looking at my clothing, which had been neatly hung in my closet by those dear little house elves. I wasn't about to give up being stylish just because I was a bloody old school marm! I was dead set against being the last to arrive yet again, so I showered and dressed quickly. I grabbed my leather bag and proceeded hurriedly out the door for breakfast.

"So, Miss Kinsington," began McGonagall, "are you prepared for a very busy day? I believe you have two classes to teach along with one to take yourself today. Are you quite ready?" she finished as she handed me my schedule.

"Well, Professor, I do believe I have waited quite long enough to finish my magical schooling. I must say, it was a very interesting extended holiday," I answered with a nervous grin. I had left Hogwarts in the middle of the last term of my sixth year. "I know I am ready to teach because that is at least one lesson I followed to completion."

If ever I had finished anything it was college for sure. I had a bachelor's degree in education and a master's degree in chemistry from Harvard University in America. Muggle school was rather easy for me as opposed to my magical endeavors that I had long since abandoned. I had been content to blend in among the hundreds of faces at a major Muggle university.

She smiled gently at me and said, "Yes, dear, I suppose you are right. Quite an impressive résumé I have heard tell."

It was easy to speak to her face to face since the chair between us, meant for Snape, was empty. Much to my relief he did not turn up for breakfast that day. I looked down at the Gryffindor table and saw a familiar face. "That's him, isn't it? I would know him anywhere!" I said to McGonagall. Harry Potter looked strikingly similar to his father at that age. James was a year ahead of me and we had been good friends during the later years at Hogwarts.

"Oh, yes," McGonagall replied, "this is his second year."

The same age exactly as when I met his dad!

"I'll see you at lunch. I am off to teach my very first class," I said excitedly.

"Hello everyone. My name is Ellie Kinsington and I will be teaching you all a great variety of things. It may be easier just to begin and soon you will all get a feel of it. Let's have a go then, shall we? I would like you all to take out your wands and set them on the desk in front of you. Just think for a moment. What you do if you had no wand at all? What if there were no magic? Who would you be and what would you do? Imagine...the world is what it is: natural and wondrous. There is light from the sun, water from the lakes and streams that connect to the vast seas, air from the tumbling breezes, earth from rock and soil of mountains; Life and its magic from everywhere."

"Uhm, Miss Kinsington," interrupted Hermione Granger, hand raised high.

"Miss Granger, I believe? Go on," I said patiently. I knew she would be the first to speak and it made me grin.

"If there's no magic then we wouldn't be here, would we?" she asked incredulously.

"Wouldn't we?" I asked. "Aren't there are billions of people without magic all around us? They exist as do we. Why do you think that is?"

"I really...don't know...but well..." Hermione was visibly flustered.

"No one really knows, Miss Granger. There are things in life that defy explanation, and it is those things that keep us yearning to know more. You are all witches and wizards with the ability to perform spells and incantations. That would bewilder the most learned minds in the Muggle world. But what are you without your wands and spells? In all of you there is a power waiting to be released. But how does it get out? Anyone?" I asked.

"Our wands," answered Harry Potter, "We let it out with our wands."

"Yes, Mr. Potter, exactly! And they are all unique to the wizard they choose, right? They have their own magic inside as well. The most common magical elements for the wands that lie before you are heartstrings of dragons, unicorn tails or horn dust, hairs of the Veela, and many other things, including your own Phoenix feather, Mr. Potter. The point to all this is that there is a connection between all magical beings. When these forces are combined, they are able to release great wonders." I paused and saw the light of interest on their faces.

"Some beings can release this magic on their own, yet others cannot. Think about it for next time. All of you study your wands and see if you can find its connection to you. I am not requiring a report but you will all be asked to share your findings with me on our next meeting." Time passed quickly and before I knew it, the class was over. Many of them were beginning to see it. I knew Harry was one of them.

Lunch time passed quickly without the presence of Snape.

He is purposefully avoiding me. I know it! This is going to make it all the worse when I do see him.

This welcome isolation would not last forever.

Potions next. I think my heart will pop out of my chest anytime now. The dread was unbearable and wished I had not returned to this place. What am I doing? I must be mad! This punishment will undoubtedly last for ever. No matter; you must do this or you will forever run from who you are. You never should have left it like that. But what other choice had there been?

I entered the Potions classroom ready to repeat my sixth year. The look in his eyes was full of genuine despise and rich with an anger that only I could understand. I took a place alone in the back, bracing myself for the hurricane of hatred that was in the making. I could hardly breathe as Snape glared at me with those black eyes of his.

"Today we will be brewing a poison so powerful that the very thought of it has been know to kill," roared Snape, never removing his eyes from my own.

"Since most of you are so pathetically inclined to foul up even the simplest of potions, I will be watching closely. In anticipation of your eminent failures, I have prepared mass quantities of antidote and placed a flagon at each of your stations. The instructions," he flicked his wand at the black board, "are on the board. Ingredients," he flicked it again, "in the cupboard. Begin!" He shouted then whipped around and strode to his desk.

That was rather pleasant really.

I inhaled deeply and began to prepare the potion.

I'm sure he wants this potion to kill me. Damn, it has been a long time since I've brewed anything other than tea. I have no idea what I am doing. This will be my end I believe. How to begin? Think, Ellie! First add the venom to the water and boil for 1 minute. Then add the sugar...oh, hell! This is bad!

He reached my desk before I even knew he had risen from his seat.

"And just what in the bloody hell are you doing, Miss Kinsington?" he spat at me. "Have you the foggiest clue of what you are doing?"

"No, Professor Snape. I haven't a clue." I answered honestly with a clever calm that surprised me.

"I was led to believe that you had been educated since your last stint here, Miss Kinsington. Where is it exactly that you earned your degree? At the institute of Flibbertigibbet and Gobledy-Gook?" he bellowed with a twisted scowl of acidic pleasure. The students snickered around us.

"As a matter of fact," I said loudly feeling my temper rise, "it was Harvard in America."

"Hah! It eludes me how an institution of such Muggle prestige can spit out a girl who I say cannot produce water from a running faucet! You will leave this classroom at once and will not return, until I am satisfied that you are completely versed in Remedial Potions that a Muggle could make by accident!"

"How dare you speak to me in front of our students as if I am some silly dog who's just wet on your shoes?" I would show him I was not that girl from long ago. "You will speak to me, Professor Snape, with the respect I deserve!"

"You are a student in my class, and will be treated as such, as long as you dare pass through these doors! DETENTION, Miss Kinsington! Starting tonight, immediately following dinner, and then every night thereafter, until you have finished 5 years worth of Potions lesson! OUT! NOW!"

I was furious and tore out of there after flinging him a look of undeniable loathing.

"That's more like it really," I said angrily.

Next time I would not lose my cool. I would not allow him to have the pleasure of seeing my torment each time we meet. In my deepest of secrets I knew I deserved it. He didn't know it was the only way. He never knew it was always for him. No longer angry but very sad, I went to my rooms and wished that for just a moment it would stop. My heart felt the profound burden of this love that I didn't understand and was powerless to stop. I did not go to dinner that night, opting to sit alone in my room crowded by the darkness that was always there. Detention was only the beginning of the penance I would serve in the purgatory of my soul...

I remembered the first class I ever had with him.

Professor Flitwick had moved me, from Charms grade one with the Gryffindors, to his second year class with the Slytherins. Apparently I was a natural. Slytherin was the house most loathed and feared by all so I was scared out of my wits as I approached the already full classroom. As in my other Charms class, there were assigned seats. I opened the door and went directly to the Professor.

"Class, we have a new student who will be joining from here on. This is Miss Ellie Kinsington and she is one of my first year students. Let's all make her feel welcome, shall we," he said cheerily. "Now, Miss Kinsington, take a seat, dear. Mr. Snape, please raise your hand. Off you go now, the empty seat next to Mr. Snape."

As I took my seat, Snape glared at me briefly in disgust as the blond boy next to him muttered, "Mudblood Gryffindor slime." Snape and the boy looked at each other knowingly.

What in the world is a Mudblood? Obviously it's something very nasty.

I was trembling while I thought this but I dare not act like I had overheard them. Trying very hard to focus on the lesson and not make a spectacle of myself, I began to take notes with the quill and parchment before me. It seemed that I knew all the answers to Professor Flitwick's questions. I thought better about raising my hand and opted to write down the answers for myself instead. The boy to my left looked sternly straight ahead during the class. I could swear that he was reading my paper out of the corner of his eye from time to time.

My days progressed as usual and I gradually learned not to care what anyone thought of me, most of the time anyway. The library was more my room than my dorm by now. Off in a corner behind mounds of books I would hide for hours. I was beginning to find that many times spells would work for me without my wand, but I never told anyone. I would casually dismiss these occurrences as flukes. They looked at me sometimes, the other Gryffindors I mean, when they thought I couldn't see them. They were never rude to me; in fact they were rather polite. None of them ever made an effort to approach me in friendship though. I cared very little and truly found solace in my seclusion. It was what I was accustomed to after all.

My Charms class with the Slytherins was above all my favorite, even with the always present coldness and silence. The blond boy, I now knew to be Lucius Malfoy, was constantly hissing to Severus Snape about me. Malfoy would say such flatter things as "hideous child of filth, Muggle born waste, dirty Mudblood loser". He was such a git that it was easy to pay him no mind. Severus never said anything in return to Lucius nor did he ever look at me or speak to me.

It went on that way until the Christmas Holiday. A break from school meant that I would return home to The Guardians for three weeks. My spirits sank as I boarded the train in Hogsmeade Station. I made my way to an empty compartment to begin the short journey back to my private prison. For the duration of the ride, I just stared out the window, hoping the train would never stop. No one joined me and I was glad of it. All the students and I disembarked at platform nine and three quarters to reenter what I now knew to be the Muggle world. The Guardians were waiting for me, standing tall and ominous amid the confusion of happy reunions.

"Good morning, Sir, good morning, Madam," I said dutifully as I curtsied, never meeting their cold eyes.

I believe I saw Severus Snape look at me with bewilderment as he proceeded out with his parents. Without a word, The Guardians and I left the station and stepped into the large black limousine that waited to deliver us to the mansion...

Time for detention.

The office was empty. I stood behind the table and waited for Snape. He entered loudly with a slam of the door. I dare not jump or move at all.

"You will make the first three potions in book one tonight. When you return tomorrow night you will turn in a roll of parchment on each. Do we understand each other, Miss Kinsington?" He said silkily.

"Yes, Professor Snape. I understand quite well."

Those were the only words that passed between us that night. I diligently worked on my task never uttering a sound. I had to admit that I needed to do this because potions had always been difficult for me.

I wonder if he knows that I need this? Maybe he is simply trying to prove that he is in control?

When I had finished my potions, I took a flagon of each and presented them to Snape at his desk. Never looking up, he continued to grade his papers as I left. Never looking up, he continued to grade his papers as I left. Back to my second home the library I went to research and write the reports he had demanded of me. Though I was certain I would receive poor markings no matter what I turned in, I wrote exceptionally well thought out reports. When he returned them to me night after next I was genuinely taken aback that he awarded me top marks.

And so it went on like that for weeks. I would make the potions, turn them in, leave to write the reports, and return each night to get my excellent grades, all without a word. My luck would end of course and it did so on a Friday night in mid October. I was attempting to brew an antidote for the venom of a particularly nasty breed of spider called The Curdled Hag. It should have turned a particular shade of bright purple by now, but was instead turning clear as water and smoking as if it were on fire. The fumes were beginning to make me ill so I knew that I had to call attention to it.

"Professor Snape, I really think you ought to have a look at this," I said urgently, "I can't see what I've done. I know this can't be good."

He looked up at me stunned that the silence had been interrupted. "Hmmm," he replied bitterly, coming over to my table. He was quiet for a long time looking at the smoking liquid. It now had begun to ripple in my cauldron. "Which of my instructions did you find unnecessary to follow, Kinsington?" He hissed, turning his dark eyes to mine.

"I assure you, the instructions were followed to the letter, Professor," I snapped. "If I made a mistake I can't say what it was."

"You mean other than returning to this place!" he fired.

"Why don't you read your directions? Maybe there in lies the mistake!" I yelled.

He looked at the board and then to me. I got the impression that he was a bit alarmed by something.

"Step away quickly, Kinsington. NOW GIRL, MOVE!" he yelled.

I had barely taken a step when the cauldron moaned loudly and the fluid within shot fountain like into the air. It spewed out what seemed to be nearly ten times the amount that had been previously there. It then became a thick cloud of smoke that smelled of rancid flesh. I could barely contain my nausea when he shouted, "Reducto a finito," while his wand hand made a wild swoop.

"The dried cat blood...is this the jar you took from?" He asked accusingly. "Well? Answer me, Kinsington!"

"Yes."

"I knew someone has been meddling with my private stock! Potter and his goons I suspect. Prowling around my things, poking around in affairs that need not be messed with! I'll have Potter for this!" He was raving mad. "You've no idea how lucky you've just been." He lifted the jar of dried blood and examined it. "Cinnamon...pathetic attempt at a replacement. Do you know what happens when cinnamon is added to this?"

"Apparently, something undesirable," I replied.

"Apparently, something undesirable?" he mocked. "That was a potion to remove flesh from Dementors! Had you not moved I would be talking to your smoking, skinless corpse!" He seemed almost pleased with the thought of it.

"Well gladly you were here to save me," I said with a nasty grin and sickly sweet voice.

"Whatever you think you're playing at, Kinsington, you had better think twice! I do not make a habit of cleaning up the messes that fools have created for themselves! I rather enjoy watching the weak writhe in their own self- important chaos!" He nearly forced these words down my throat. "The very sight of you revolts me. I would never have allowed your return and I am at a loss for the logic behind the Headmasters decision to do so. I think you should leave this place before everyone else sees you for what you are. And you know what you are? A spineless, wretched, vile woman!"

I stepped back and instinctively turned my head to one side, holding up my arms to shield my face from the blow I was expecting. He stepped back horrorstricken and said no more. I saw in his eyes for a moment a glimmer of acknowledgment.

Breathing as if I had been nearly drowned, I retreated from the room, slammed the door behind me, and leaned against it shaking terribly.

I ran out of the dungeon and straight outside to the enclosed courtyard, then collapsed to my knees on the cold grass. Unable to cry tears I became dizzy. My head swooned with the memories of the first time I had seen that look in his eyes...

I do not remember the return journey to the school during my second year Christmas Holiday. All I remember is being in Hagrid's arms. I heard them speaking but could not see them.

"Poor tiny child. She was near dead by the time I got to er. The Muggle doctors were all shakin' their heads and the nurses were cryin'. Took her then I did. I eard em say that both arms and legs were broke and her skull shattered." He was crying now as he continued, "she tole me she was scared to use magic on em cause she was 'fraid she'd be sent to Azkaban." Now sobbing heartily he addressed the headmaster, "Surely this means we can do summat now Professor Dumbledore.

Dumbledore's voice full of grief and softer than I had ever heard he spoke to Hagrid. "It is with the deepest sorrow that I must tell you we cannot. The magic at work here is ancient and unable to be broken by even the most powerful of wizards." I heard his voice crack a little as he said, "Her burden is deeper than any child should ever have. Only time will tell what is to happen. Right now she needs to see Madam Pomfrey urgently. Let us hope this is not the end."

Through my battered and swollen eye lids I caught a glimpse of his shadow from behind a pillar. I passed out and awoke hours later in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was delicately washing my tattered face. "There now, sleep dear. It's all right you're safe with us for now."

I sobbed and felt my ribs pinch and tighten. "I promise I'll be good, Madam. Please, no more." I pleaded to the delirious image of The Guardians I was now seeing. "Sir no! I think it's broken. Please I won't tell I swear, Sir, please. I will never tell."

"Ellie, your head is hurt badly dear. It's only a vision. They're not here," Madam Pomfrey soothed. "Close your eyes and rest now. You must try and sleep."

I closed my eyes but I don't think it was sleep that I went to that night. I dreamed I saw a boy slip an invisibility cloak off his body and then on again. He watched me motionless for hours. His dark eyes saddened by the pitiful broken child he saw before him. I knew, even in my delirium, that a secret of mine had been witnessed by the boy who always sat at my left. I know he too had a secret.

The first day of classes since my stealthy return after Christmas holiday was difficult. My bones were sore but, never the less, the fractures had healed. My head remained cloudy even though the physical damage had been repaired. My face and neck had some slight residual purple bruising that I hid with my curly, shoulder-length blond hair. The small faded cuts about my left eye could easily be explained as an injury sustained from running into a door left ajar.

I took my usual seat in double Charms. I was really worn out and could barely focus on the lesson that day. When the questions were posed, I didn't even bother to scribble the answers on the parchment like I usually did. At the end of class I slowly gathered my belongings and put them in my black shoulder bag. I thought everyone had left by now so I was shocked to see him standing there.

"Why don't you raise your hand, Kinsington?" Snape had never spoken to me before in the year and a half I had sat beside him. "You never raise your hand but I see all the right answers on the parchment in front of you."

I was speechless. I had thought him mute before this and I stuttered out, "W-well, I...I think it better that I keep quiet."

He tilted his head and arched a dark eyebrow.

"Nobody likes a know-it-all do they? I don't need to provide the opportunity to hear myself called a Mudblood Gryffindor scum any more than I need the praise of a teacher for giving the right answers. It is enough that I know. No one else need tell me." I raised the bag and slung it carelessly over my shoulder. "Ahmmm," I whimpered as the weight of it on my tender flesh caused my no cry out in pain. I looked away and adjusted the bag, gritting my teeth and drawing in a large breath.

"Are you...quite alright?" he asked sincerely. I hoped he would dare not mention what he had witnessed very late the night I had returned. He did not.

I looked at him not wanting to tell the truth. "I am as I always am," I whispered in a dead voice. With that I left him there in the classroom. I did not turn to see him leave but I knew he followed far behind me on our way to lunch. I sat at the end of the table facing the usual way some how feeling stronger. I met his eyes in the distance. The rest of the year went on as it had before, with him sitting silently to my left as I jotted down the answers...

It was now only a week until Christmas and my return to Hogwarts was not going as I had hoped. I shook my head slightly, tying to dislodge the thoughts that consumed me. I was sitting at the staff table counting the minutes until dinner ended.

"That is a spectacular waste of food, Kinsington," said Snape as he watched me pushing the vegetables around my plate.

"I suppose it is, but I'm not hungry tonight." I spoke quietly, nervous to see where this was going next.

"Hmm, you never are these days are you?" He was being so civil that I scarcely believed it.

"No, not really."

"Is there anything..." He stopped himself before I thought he might actually give a damn and spat, "Detention then." He rose and swept out the doors behind us.

"What a way to spend a Friday night," I chortled. To the dungeons I went ready for a lashing. I was surprised to find him sitting in his armchair by the fire when I entered. I began to walk to my work area when he spoke.

"You look as though you could use a drink. Join me, won't you?"

Did I hear that correctly?

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"Wine, Kinsington, ever heard of it?" he hissed. "Drink or go; it is of difference to me."

"Red wine? Got anything stronger?" Boy did I need that drink! I poured myself a glass and just before sipping it, I stopped abruptly with the glass at my lips.

"As much as I considered it, Kinsington, I did not want to ruin a particularly good bottle of wine with poison. Afraid that I might try and slip you a mickey?" His lips twisted into a most horrid smirk.

I swallowed it at once and coughed out, "Yes, well the thought did cross my mind." I would not put anything past him. "This is quite good. What year is it?"

"1872, a great year for Wizard's Wine."

"Hm, yes." I took the chair that remained. He was at my left of course, always at my left.

I nearly chugged that first glass waiting eagerly to feel its effect. We didn't talk but sat blankly looking into the fire. As I sipped my second glass slower than I had the last, he posed the first question since I had been back these three and a half months, after a separation of nearly fourteen years.

"Were you in America for long?" Snape had a very accusing tone in his voice when he said this.

"Uhm...six years. I started Harvard just after I turned eighteen." I paused for about a minute and then decided to tell more, though he had not asked. I was a little tipsy from the wine and it was giving me false courage. "After that, I went nearly everywhere. Italy, China, Spain, Russia, Egypt... I could go on all night with the places I've been. Except for college I never stayed in one place for long."

"That does not surprise me," he said bitterly. "Learn anything on your fantastic voyage?"

I could hear the sarcasm but answered none the less, "I learned how to speak every language I encountered which were the easiest things I ever learned." He looked unimpressed and arched his eyebrow. "Magically I learned far more. Some things I can hardly explain. It's everywhere you know...magic I mean. The most ancient places on Earth contain loads of it."

Snape looked more than bored. "Fascinating. You have come to terms with it then?" he asked.

"What do mean? Come to terms with what?"

"I mean, of course, that you are a Sorceress, Ellie."

I don't know if it was the way he said it, or the fact that he had called me by my given name for the first time in fourteen years, that made me go silent. I turned to face the fire again and finished my wine. I got up to pour myself a third glass and realized that I was well on the way to being drunk. He held his glass up to me and I pored him another. I was numb all over, more from shock than the drink, and sat again.

"I am as I always am," I said in a hushed voice which sounded rather haunted even to me.

We sat there drinking the bottle dry without another word as the night progressed. I was very drunk and incontrovertibly sleepy. As my eyelids closed I heard him whisper, "You should go. It is very late." But I had already fallen asleep there in the chair by the fire and he did not wake me. I dreamed a different dream that night. We were young again and I was in his arms.

In sleep I whipsered, "Severus."

I awoke with a start as he replied, "Yes?"

I staggered as I got up from where I had been soundly sleeping for hours. I reached the doors and without turning whispered, "I'm sorry," and slipped out into the hallway, closing the doors quietly behind me.