In the End

Chapter 3: All Hallow's Eve

Joanna woke with a start. Breathing heavily, she threw the covers off her body and scrambled out of bed. Making her way over to her Pensieve, she picked up her wand and thrust it to her temple. A few seconds later, her thoughts were swirling safely around in the bowl.

Running a tired hand over her face, she then strode over to the fireplace. Taking a pinch of Floo powder, she threw it in and yelled "Albus Dumbledore!" loudly into the flames. She waited impatiently until the wizened wizard finally poked his head into the fire.

"Yes?" he asked serenely.

"I need to speak with you. Now," Joanna added vehemently.

Dumbledore gave her a curious look before disappearing and reappearing a moment later, unfolding himself from the hearth. Upon seeing him, Joanna had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. Always a child at heart, Dumbledore was wearing a pajama set covered in cows perpetually jumping over moons and his night cap had spoons and forks holding hands, running gleefully around his head. It was truly a remarkable sight.

"What is wrong, Joanna?" he asked.

She sighed loudly and ran her hand through her hair as she began to pace the room nervously. "I had a dream."

Albus smiled broadly. "Ahh," he said merrily, "I was having a dream, too. Minerva was there and she was wearing the most striking ensemble--"

"Professor Dumbledore!" Joanna cried, mortified. "You don't understand--I had a dream," she said, putting a heavy emphasis on the word and giving him a pointed look.

The headmaster cocked an eyebrow and gave Joanna an appraising look. "Is this the first one since you've been here?" She nodded, wringing her hands. "That means that perhaps there is another here at Hogwarts," he added thoughtfully.

"Any idea who?" she asked him.

Dumbledore gave her a small smile. "I believe so," he replied. "Do you remember anything about the dream?"

Joanna shook her head. "No. Never could. But I put the dream in my Pensieve as soon as I woke up," she added, gesturing to the shimmering bowl.

Dumbledore turned his attention to the Pensieve and ambled over to it. Prodding the vapor/liquid-like substance with his wand, Joanna's latest dream rose up from the bowl and played itself out. It was just like all the others, she observed. She couldn't hear what was going on, but she could see and she recognized the people in the dream. After it was over, the headmaster turned his attention back to Joanna.

"When was the last time you had one of those types of dreams?" he asked her.

"Years ago," she answered, screwing up her face in an effort to remember. "When I was being held prisoner, actually...Oh my," she breathed.

"What?" Dumbledore asked.

"Today's October 31^st, Halloween," she said, her eyes glazing over.

"The anniversary of the deaths of James and Lily Potter and the first defeat of Voldemort," murmured Dumbledore.

"And the day I escaped from Troudemort," Joanna said absently. "Who do you think it is?" she then asked sharply, recalling what he had said earlier.

Dumbledore opened and closed his mouth several times before saying, "It is only an inkling."

Joanna glared. "I have a right to know," she said irritably.

Dumbledore studied her closely, and then said, "Harry Potter conjured the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat in his second year. That is who I believe it is."

"Then he will be having the dreams, too," she said slowly, "but he won't remember them. Not really, anyway."

"It's highly fitting that these dreams would start on a day that is significant to both you and Harry," Dumbledore observed.

"It would make sense," Joanna said to no one in particular. "But the powers never manifested themselves in James. I would've known--he would've told me. I wonder why they didn't...Did you know or even think it was James?" she asked abruptly.

"No," he replied with a shake of his head, "to both questions.

"How can we know for sure if it's Harry?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard and appeared deep in thought. "Well," he said after a few moments, "you're the one teaching him Occlumency. See if you can break into that particular part of his mind."

Joanna shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "I don't want to do that without his permission first. I'll...I'll see if I can't get him to focus on his dreams before a session one time and see what progresses from there."

The headmaster nodded in agreement. "Do you remember the last dream you had? The one in the Pensieve?" he asked, changing the subject.

Joanna shook her head. "No. Why?"

"It wasn't just a significant day for you and Harry," he said. "It is also an important day in the history of Hogwarts. According to the dream, it is the anniversary of the day when Godric Gryffindor ordered Salazar Slytherin to leave the castle and never return."

Joanna stared at him. "If I had the dream, then that means Voldemort had it too...My God, is that why he chose to go after Harry all those years ago on that specific day? Vengeance for Slytherin against the only living descendants of Godric Gryffindor?"

"I will not pretend to know the innermost workings of Voldemort's mind," Dumbledore said seriously, "but I am sure that the date was not just chosen at random."

"Damn," Joanna muttered.

"My sentiments exactly," replied Dumbledore.

"If it is Harry, if he is indeed related to Gryffindor, should I tell him about me?" Joanna asked, wringing her hands.

Dumbledore peered at her over his half-moon spectacles. "I will leave that up to you," he said. "Far be it for me to tell the Heir of Ravenclaw what to do."

Joanna scowled and looked down at the floor. "No one's called me that in years," she mumbled. "But if I tell him, he'll look me up in the library and be able to find out who I really am." She grimaced at how weird that sounded.

"Perhaps it's time for you to be reborn again," Dumbledore said genially.

"What?" Joanna cried. "It was your idea in the first place for me to come looking like this!"

The old man nodded solemnly. "I did not mean immediately," he said, "but perhaps before the end of the school year. It would be quite the blow to the egos of both Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy when they discover that you are indeed alive. But it will also be an immense morale booster to the students of this school and to the Wizarding world as a whole when the Heir of Ravenclaw remerges from the ashes and aligns herself with the side of the Light."

"Indeed," Joanna said, pursing her lips.

"Did Voldemort ever find out about you, ah, special abilities?" he asked lightly.

"Yes," she said, frowning. "One of the many things Severus told him, apparently."

Dumbledore remained quiet for many minutes before saying, "Have you forgiven him?"

"Who?" Joanna asked, feigning ignorance. It was Dumbledore's turn to give her a look.

"I dunno," she mumbled, covering her face with her hands. "I thought I did...a long time ago. In a way, I have. I'm going out on a date with him today, for Merlin's sake, just like you told me to do. 'Don't worry about it, Jo, things will work themselves out.' But..."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"But it's hard for me to forget sometimes, you know?" she croaked. "He betrayed me. H-He told Voldemort about the potion I invented. He didn't even try to leave me out of it...he told me so himself. And I had to make it for that bastard! It's because of me that he still had a soul!

"You don't know what it was like in there," she continued as tears fell down her cheeks. "Six months...six months of torture, of men defiling me, of Voldemort constantly in my head...Six months of me hoping--praying--that anyone, even Severus, would come for me, only to have those hopes shattered when you see him standing over you, sneering at you, hating you..." she choked. "He wasn't supposed to betray me! He was supposed to protect me!"

Dumbledore opened up his arms and Joanna suddenly found herself crying against his chest. "I know it's difficult, child," he said soothingly, stroking her hair. "Just keep in mind that he was on our side by the time you saw him. He made many mistakes, yes. I will not deny that, nor would he. But just remember who rescued you that day, October 31^st, 1981."

Joanna hiccupped into his shirt and nodded. "I'll never forget," she said softly. She stayed in his arms for a long time, finally pulling away when the tears stopped.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

"There's nothing to be sorry about, my dear," he said kindly. Wiping her eyes, she glanced at the clock on her bedside table and blanched.

"It's 4:30 in the morning!" she cried. "I'm so sorry for waking you so early, Prof--"

"It was not a problem," he said sternly, but a small smile played on his lips. Joanna bit her lip and grinned a little.

"I like your pajamas," she smirked. Dumbledore's beard twitched.

"You do?" he asked, appraising himself in the mirror. "Minerva told me they looked rather foolish."

Joanna wrinkled her nose. She didn't even want to think about why Professor McGonagall had seen him in his pajamas.

"Is there anything else I can do for you tonight, Joanna?" he asked gently. Startled, she looked up and bit her lip.

"No. Thank you, Professor. For everything."

"Always a pleasure, Jo," he smiled. "Goodnight. Try to get some sleep."

Joanna smiled. "Thanks. I'll try. Goodnight..."

*~*~*~*

Severus Snape awoke on that morning in a surprisingly good mood, something he was quite sure he'd never experienced before. After the little, ah, gratification he engaged in last night, he was feeling pretty good about himself. What was even more amazing was that he actually slept through the night without a nightmare, something that hadn't happened in years.

Standing up, he stretched and padded into the bathroom. He briefly contemplated on whether he should take a hot or cold shower (given his current state of arousal), but in the end decided on a hot one; the chilly October winds would take care of any problems he might have.

Despite what the majority of the student body thought of him, Severus Snape was a meticulously clean person. He just had naturally oily skin and hair and he would be damned if he cared enough to take more preventative measures when it came to his appearance.

Today, however, was going to be different because he actually found himself considering how he looked. Scowling, he furiously scrubbed at his head, hoping, for once, that his hair would come out looking at least somewhat clean. After he finished his shower, he dried off and walked back into his quarters.

He stood in front of a full-length mirror and examined himself thoroughly. He really was rather ugly. His skin was sallow and unhealthy looking; his once straight teeth were now crooked and yellow; and that nose of his...a lovely gift from his father, he thought scathingly.

Running a comb through his hair, he noticed with some satisfaction that it did look a little less greasy than normal. Smirking, he threw open his closet and pulled out his set of fall robes--in black, of course. Now he looked like some Muggle clergyman.

After he finished dressing, Severus examined himself in the mirror again. Most students wouldn't notice, but he was dressed better today than he normally was, all because of a woman.

Sighing, Severus sat down on his bed and stared at nothing in particular. What the hell was he thinking getting involved with a woman, especially at this point in his life? It was too dangerous, reckless even. Completely irresponsible. He should never have allowed Dumbledore to talk him into doing this in the first place. And if the Dark Lord ever found out...Severus shuddered at the possible repercussions.

It was not that the Lord didn't want his faithful followers to engage in what he so elegantly called, "A little indulgence with the pureblooded whores of the world," but Joanna was a powerful witch on Dumbledore's side and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Knowing his luck, Severus would probably be put through numerous tortures before being forced to kill her.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Severus fought the emotions that threatened to overcome him, biting his lip hard. Finally, they subsided and he slowly opened his eyes. Glancing at the clock told him that it was nearly nine. Pulling himself off the bed, he looked at himself once more in the mirror. Placing the well-known scowl onto his face, Severus strode from his room and down to breakfast in the Great Hall.

*~*~*~*

Joanna groggily looked up from her plate and watched as Severus skulked into the Hall. He looked better, somehow, as if he'd actually washed his hair today. Bloody hell, did he do that for our date? she thought, startled

Their date...What the hell was she thinking, saying yes? It was by far one of the stupidest things she'd ever done, and that was saying something, despite what Dumbledore had told her. She knew what his reaction would be to her, even if he didn't know who she was. He was already suspicious of her.

Sighing, she scratched the back of her neck and returned her attention to the Daily Prophet; she really didn't want to think about anything else right now.

"Good morning," Severus drawled in a smooth, silky voice. Jumping slightly, Joanna looked up and saw him smirking down at her.

"Er, good morning, Severus," she said nervously. He was looking at her funny, almost leering. Quirking an eyebrow, she said, "Well, are you just going to stand there all day staring or what?"

His face darkened for the briefest moment before he sat down next to her and helped himself to some black coffee.

"Sleep well last night?" she asked him, wishing the butterflies in her stomach would just die already.

Severus's jaw twitched and it almost looked as if he was holding back a smile.

"You could say that," he murmured.

Joanna bit her lip: he was hiding something. "Have any good dreams?" she asked loftily.

He snorted into his coffee mug, but quickly composed himself. Casting a glance at her, Severus said, "Oh, yes. Quite fascinating, really."

"What were they about?" she asked suspiciously. She was immensely taken aback when she saw the slightest blush cross Severus's face. Suddenly she didn't want to know anymore. "Never mind," she muttered.

Smirking, he turned back to his coffee and they spent the next few minutes in silence.

"I'm really surprised," Joanna blurted out suddenly, "that Dumbledore is still allowing Hogsmeade visits to continue, what with Voldemort and his Death Eaters now out there and all." She noticed that he hissed softly at the sound of Voldemort's name.

"He has taken preventative measures," he said idly, though Joanna could hear the edginess in his voice. "Were you not listening at the last staff meeting?"

Blushing, she shook her head; she had zoned out for a good portion of the meeting, mostly because she had been bored out of her mind. The one thing she did remember was that Hogwarts was going to hold a Masquerade Ball that year in order to boost the student's morale. "Er, no. What kind of measures?" she asked, shifting in her seat.

"Only fifth years and above are allowed to go," he replied. "And there will be Aurors and staff members accompanying the students as well."

Joanna nodded, but already her attention was waning; she was concentrating on a powerful emotion that was coming through to her, but she couldn't pinpoint from whom it was coming.

"Are you listening to me?" Severus snapped irritably.

"Don't you feel that?" she whispered, ignoring his question as she scanned the students.

"Feel what?"

"The emotion," she murmured, and immediately regretted it. His eyes narrowed dangerously and his jaw clenched.

"What are you on about?" he hissed. Joanna looked into his eyes and bit her lip.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "I just...just had a weird feeling, is all."

Severus stared at her hard with disbelieving eyes, his jaw still clamped shut. He wanted to be mad at her, but he found his anger dissipating the longer he looked at her. She was so beautiful and her hair looked so soft...he wanted to reach out and touch it. He had actually raised his hand and was moving it forward when the commotion of the students leaving the Hall shook him from his stupor. Blinking, he stood up and grunted, "I'll meet you at the front door." Without waiting for an answer, he strode from the Hall as fast as possible.

Joanna watched him go with a mixture of annoyance and relief; with him gone, she can go back to concentrating on the emotion that was permeating the atmosphere. Yet, she couldn't figure out what emotion it was or from whom it was originating. Scanning the room, she tried concentrating on each individual student but soon found that it drained her energy considerably each time.

"Joanna." Startled, she looked to her left and saw Dumbledore watching her intently. Shaking his head, he said, "It's Harry."

Turning her head to the area Dumbledore was gesturing, she gazed at the young man sitting at the Gryffindor table and almost let out a sob at what she felt: pure despair. That was what he was feeling--utterly and completely hopeless. She'd felt him sad at times, but nothing like this...this was almost too much for her to bear.

"Joanna," floated Dumbledore's voice, "let him be. He will be fine; this is how he copes. I do not think he is even conscious of it."

Joanna continued to watch Harry closely. She wanted to go to him, to comfort him, to take away his pain, but that would give her away. If anyone found out about her gift, then Severus would know who she was in a heartbeat. She couldn't allow that to happen, at least not yet. Turning to the Headmaster, she nodded in understanding, then stood up and quickly made her way out of the Great Hall, as far away from the misery and anguish as possible.

*~*~*~*

Joanna was gazing longingly at a beautiful set of dark-green dress robes through the shop window of Gladrags Wizardwear.

"That color is all wrong for you," Severus opined, also peering into the window. "Your skin would clash horribly with it."

"Gee, thanks," she said dryly. If I were in my real body, those robes would match perfectly, she thought morosely. She needed to buy some kind of costume for the Ball but she wasn't exactly rolling in Galleons, at least not while she was still considered "dead" in the Wizarding world. She'd just have to pay a visit to Diagon Alley one of these days to purchase some robes, or otherwise just use the dress that was sitting in her wardrobe that hadn't been worn, literally, in centuries.

Snape shrugged. "Would you like to go inside and see for yourself?"

"No, no," sighed Joanna. "They'd be too expensive anyway. Come on, it's freezing. Let's go to Madam Rosmerta's."

Severus paused. "Are you sure that is...wise? There will be students in there."

Joanna stared blankly at him. "I know you don't like children, Severus, but that's just a little extreme--"

Severus rolled his eyes and gestured for her to lead the way. Shrugging, Joanna began to walk and as she passed him, he placed his hand on the small of her back that sent shivers up her spine.

"Are you cold?" he murmured in her ear, and Joanna shuddered again from what the heat of his breath did to her body.

"A little," she lied breathlessly. They finally made it to the Three Broomsticks and discovered that it was crammed full of students. Snape glowered at some Hufflepuffs, who left hastily, and smugly sat down at the now empty table. He ordered them drinks and they proceeded to do what they'd been doing all day: talking about nothing.

Personally, Severus hated chitchat. Loathed it, actually. But for some reason (unbeknownst to him, of course), he didn't mind when it came to Joanna, mostly because when she talked, she didn't spout useless drabble or constantly prattle on about pointless matters. When she talked, he listened.

"So what did you do in France?" he asked her, sipping his coffee.

"Ho, ho," she said in a bored voice. "Mostly, I taught kids who couldn't afford to go to Beauxbatons. I educated some really talented children, but the majority of them were dunderheads."

"Did you teach all the subjects?" he asked with arched eyebrows, but inwardly smiling at her word choice.

"Oh no," she replied, chugging her tea, "typically just Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration. Occasionally, I also acted as a private tutor over the summer for some of the richer families."

Severus nodded in understanding. "How long did you live there?" he asked.

Joanna didn't answer for a while and Severus was tempted to repeat the question when she finally said, "I was there for about fifteen years."

"Ah," he said, leaning back. "Why did you leave Britain?"

She shifted in her chair uncomfortably. "Personal matters," she muttered, "among other things."

Severus raised an eyebrow but, sensing her discomfort, let the matter drop.

"Want to get out of here?" she asked, draining the last of her tea. Seeing the funny look on his face, she added, "To walk around town, make sure no one's getting in any trouble."

"Sounds acceptable," he commented and Joanna rolled her eyes. She fished around in her pockets for some money but Severus's hand stopped her.

"It's on me," he murmured.

"Oh," she said with a slight blush, pulling on her cloak. "Uh, thanks."

He nodded, giving her another odd look. "I was under the impression that it was customary for men to pay the charges on excursions such as these."

Joanna blinked and quickly translated what he had said. "Oh, right," she muttered, still blushing. Clearing her throat, she said, "Shall we go, then?"

"After you," he said, gesturing with his hand. Avoiding all the eyes that were obviously watching her and Severus, Joanna squeezed around the chairs and walked out of the pub, with Severus close behind.

"Where shall we go to next?" she asked, somewhat breathlessly.

Severus gave a kind of noncommittal noise and Joanna bit her lip. "The park, perhaps?" she asked, bouncing a little on her feet.

"That seems adequate," he said, turning to face the where the park was located and putting his hand on the small of her back again. "Lead the way."

Upon reaching the park, Joanna found a nice bench that they could sit on and have a conversation while still being able to watch for troublemakers. They sat in an amiable silence for a while, just enjoying the weather and the jubilant shouts of the students when Severus suddenly spoke.

"Beautiful weather we're having today," he said, his voice sounding unusually strangled.

That did it. Joanna just couldn't stand it anymore; she started laughing.

"I'm sorry!" she gasped, attempting to suppress the giggles that were trying to erupt. "But you hate small talk! And--the weather--oh my!"

She chuckled a little bit more but eventually the laughter died down and she was faced with a very irate Snape. Oh dear...

"Severus, we don't have to talk about the weather," she said, smiling. "Small talk is rather boorish, isn't it? I'm sure that between the two of us we can come up with something to talk about, eh? I'll start: Potions. I have my lessons all planned out for the winter term except for one thing. Did you ever teach the students the Draught of the Living Death? I'm considering teaching it to my seventh years but I can't seem to find a reference of it in your previous lessons. I know they learn the Draught of Peace for the O.W.L.s. Also, your opinion on the matter would be most welcome."

Snape stared at her, slightly stunned, then responded with, "You are correct about the Draught of Peace being learned in the student's fifth year. However, I always found it unnecessary to have them learn to brew the Draught of the Living Death considering it causes someone to fall into such a deep sleep that the results are usually irreversible, as you well know, and seeing as the school is currently full of negligent teenagers--namely, the Gryffindors--or Slytherins on their way to becoming full-fledged Death Eaters, I never thought it would be, ah...practical to teach them such a nefarious potion."

Joanna nodded, pleased that they were speaking about something other than the weather and rather giddy about getting into a vocabulary sparring match with Severus. She hadn't been placed in Ravenclaw for nothing.

"I agree, of course, about the capriciousness of teaching such a draft to certain, shall we say, injudicious students," she said. "However, I fail to see how the consequences would overshadow the benefits of having such a 'nefarious potion,' as you put it, taught to a minute group of students. I would be willing to wage that only one or two seventh years would be able to brew it properly anyhow."

"Then why bother at all?" Severus asked hotly. "Teaching certain injudicious students how to make that potion could result in some calamitous consequences. Are you willing to declare that the end justifies the means?"

"Nietzsche?" Joanna blurted, somewhat startled that he would know the Muggle existentialist philosopher. "Oh, wait...was it Machiavelli who said that...?" she mumbled.

Severus blinked and cocked his head. "Yes, I do read from time to time," he drawled, his lips curling. "I am not completely revolted by Muggle culture or beliefs. I found myself drawn to Muggle philosophy after the death of L--after the first fall of the Dark Lord."

Joanna smiled brilliantly and Severus was jarred by how absolutely stunning she looked as the wind blew in her hair, catching the light of the sun. She looked as if she were glowing.

She took his breath away.

"I admit I dabbled a bit in philosophy myself," she said, pulling him from his thoughts; turning her head a little, she watched as some Gryffindor students wrestled playfully across the park. She grinned again. "Although after doing some ethical theory and reading too much utilitarianism for my liking, I found myself drawn to, er...feminist philosophy."

"I wouldn't think to peg you as a feminist," Severus commented as an image of a burning brassiere flashed through his mind.

"All women are feminists, if you think about," she said lightly. "That is if they want to be treated as equals and respected by others...oh, I could go on for hours," she grinned again, biting her lip. "And not all feminists burn their bras, either, by the way. In fact, there is only one recorded incident where that actually occurred, at least in the United States, and even then it was just a rally--"

"Joanna," he interrupted gently and giving her a miniscule smile.

She flushed. "I'm sorry. This must be terribly boring for you, hearing about feminism and all that, but really, it is quite fascinating. I read this one article once about how until there is equality in the family unit, between a husband and wife, then there is little chance for women attempting to earn their equal share in the work force. For example..."

Severus tuned her out but continued to watch her talk. He allowed a small smile to play ruefully on his lips as he watched her enthusiastically explain the inner workings of feminist theory and he found her to be incredibly captivating. He had found something she was passionate about and he was more than a little grateful in knowing that had something more in common with Joanna Kent than just potions.

"Would you like to join me for a drink later on tonight, after dinner?" Severus interrupted again.

Blinking, Joanna stopped her tirade about the unfairness of panty hose and stared at him. "W-What?"

Severus repeated his question and felt, to his horror, that a dull flush was creeping up his neck as Joanna continued to ogle him.

"Well are you going to answer me or not?" he barked testily.

Joanna cocked her head to the side, as if studying him. "You are so...extraordinary," she said softly and Severus sucked in a breath. "I really have two minds about you. One minute, you can be such a vicious bastard, and the next, you're asking me out on dates...and inviting me to your chambers for drinks."

"You can decline if you want to," Severus snapped.

Joanna gave him a feeble smile. "It's not that," she said, furrowing her brow and gazing out into the park. "You just confuse me sometimes..."

She saw Severus bristle and she felt bad for unintentionally offending him. "I had a lovely day," she said softly, but honestly. "As for the invitation for drinks, I'm afraid I'm going to have to--to decline. I'm sorry," she said quickly. "It's not you. I, uh, I'm a..." Joanna ran an uneasy hand through her hair. "I can't drink alcohol."

"Why not?" Severus asked, in spite of his better judgment.

Joanna threw him a sharp look and then sighed. Avoiding his gaze, she said, "Because I'm an alcoholic. You know what that is, don't you?"

"Of course I know what that is," he said gruffly, his features hardening. "How--?"

"Muggle alcohol," she supplied, still avoiding his gaze. "Since Wizard alcohol is non-addictive." Joanna gave him a wry smile. "You can ask why, if you want."

Severus paused, swallowing thickly. "Why, then?"

Joanna frowned. "Something happened to me a long time ago and it affected me very badly..."

"Is that why you went to France?"

"Yes," she said, clenching her jaw. "I was pretty messed up for a while...a long while, and I didn't have anyone to turn to because I was completely alone. Everything hurt and I didn't know what to do. I was a witch living in a Muggle community, no job, no family, and...so alone. I had to find work, you see, but technically, I didn't have an education, right? I mean, I just couldn't go up to the bank and ask for a job without any credentials besides the usual 'I can levitate a feather'...So I took whatever job I could find."

Joanna paused and stared hard at some Slytherins across the field.

"What kind of jobs?" Snape prompted.

Joanna sighed and ran another hand through her hair. Smiling hollowly, she said, "I worked in some bars, er, pubs, for the most part. That's when I started drinking...I'd never had Muggle alcohol before, see, so I didn't know it was...I didn't know that the more you drank the more your body craved it...But it felt good, you know? Alcohol, it dulls the senses, makes the pain go away, and oh Merlin, all I wanted was for the pain to go away. I was lost the moment I took that first sip...So that's how I spent my first three years of my 'new life'--completely pissed."

"What changed?"

"I met Guillaume Thiery," she replied simply after a brief pause. "He was a Muggle, but his wife was a witch and had gone to Beauxbatons. She and Guillaume had been in the bar one night and I was in one of my apparently usual drunken stupors and had started spouting off all kinds of magical words. Solange--that was her name--she recognized the words I was saying. So, in order to save me from being arrested for the Statute of Secrecy stuff, she took me in..."

"What does this have to do with Guillaume?" Severus asked.

"Because he was a psychiatrist," she said, a far-away look in her eye. "I could talk to him...we don't have that kind of healing here in the Wizarding world, that kind of healing that's all emotional and psychological...He helped me. I was able to talk to him about all the pain I went through and not worry about having him believe me...and well, the rest is history, I suppose. I stopped drinking eventually and Solange was able to secure me a job as a tutor in a little Muggle village just south of Avignon that had a high Wizard populace. I was still healing, but my life wasn't a total wreck anymore..."

Joanna trailed off, her eyes narrowed, and Severus saw her swallow. "I'm sorry. I--I have no idea why I just told you all that."

"I'm glad you did," Severus said, then mentally kicking himself for saying something so simpleminded. "What I mean, is that I appreciate you trusting me with all of this information, considering that it is so private."

Joanna smiled a little. "Thank you for listening. I suppose I've been bottling that up inside for a long time. I--I didn't tell you that, though, for your sympathy nor should you feel obligated to divulge any mortifying secrets to me. I suppose I just wanted you to know."

"Why?" he said, and was surprised to hear her laugh bitterly.

"I dunno, Severus," she said, finally looking him in the eye and subsequently taking his breath away for the second time that day. Her eyes were pure black...they were his eyes.

Startled, he asked, "Why do your eyes do that?"

"Do what?" said Joanna, blinking.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "How do you get your eyes to change color like that? Are you a Metamorphmagus?"

"Oh, that," she said, flushing. "Er...it's nothing. Just a trick, s'all. Trompe l'oeil and whatnot. I believe it's time we get back to school," she commented, standing up and effectively ending that particular conversation.

"Thank you for the wonderful day, Severus," she said, smoothing out her robes like a nervous schoolgirl. "I had a nice time."

Severus watched her walk away from him, stopping to smell some of the flowers that were growing in the Hogsmeade gardens. The sun was still shining brilliantly in her hair and Severus felt an odd fluttering in his stomach. Joanna didn't stray far from Severus, letting him know that she was still "with" him, but he could sense that she was embarrassed by her earlier confession. He had indeed been surprised that she had shared something so intimate with him yet he felt something else as well. It took him a few moments to realize that he was proud of her and that scared the hell out of him.

He continued to study Joanna from his seat on the bench as she sashayed through the garden, admiring her beauty and poise, strength and intelligence, and most of all, her honor. Slytherins typically didn't place too much importance of trivialities such as the principles of duty, but Severus did. He chalked it up to spending too much time with the Gryffindor golden boy himself, Albus Dumbledore.

Allowing himself a small smile at the last thought, Severus stood up and strode over to where Joanna was admiring the rosebushes, which were charmed to bloom year round.

"Beautiful," he murmured into her ear. Joanna jumped a little and whirled around.

"Severus!" she said breathlessly. "You gave me a fright."

Severus gazed at her unblinkingly and saw with some satisfaction that the woman was blushing. Turning her head slightly, she said, "Yes, the roses are beautiful, aren't they? It's at times like these that I'm eternally grateful that I have magic in my life. 'God gave us magic so that we might have roses in December,' you know?"

"I wasn't talking about the roses," he murmured, watching her closely. Joanna blinked rapidly before a tiny "Oh" escaped from her rosy lips.

"I believe it's time for us to be getting back to school," he said. Taking a deep breath, Joanna nodded and followed Severus towards Hogwarts, her mind spinning with a million different thoughts, all of which were centered on a certain dark man...

*~*~*~*

The entire school turned out for the Halloween Feast that night, including all the teachers. Joanna and Severus sat next to one another, enjoying the conversation they were having, while the rest of the teachers discussed the usual topics of Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

"No, no, no," Joanna said, shaking her head. "Try slicing and then adding the boomslang skin first, then stir counterclockwise four times. After that, add the powdered moonstone, let it sit for ten minutes, and then add the unicorn tail hair. It's rather fascinating, really, how that can affect the potion."

"But won't the slicing of the boomslang affect the consistency?" Severus asked, rubbing his chin.

Joanna gave a kind of half shrug. "Okay, it's true that it becomes a little lumpier, but it lasts twice as long. I know, I know," she said, holding up a placating hand, "we have spells that can make any potion last forever, but this specific potion is so unstable that that kind of magic can disrupt the affect of the potion in the long run."

"Interesting..." said Snape. "I'll have to try that. Would you be interested in working on some experimental potions with me?"

Pleased that he had offered, Joanna flashed him a brilliant smile and said, "Absolutely. I have some more ideas as we--"

A loud cry suddenly pierced the night.

Startled, Joanna's head snapped and she scanned the Great Hall rapidly until her gaze finally settling on Harry, was also clutching his forehead--no, his scar.

"Shite," she said, standing suddenly and walking quickly around the table to where the younger boy was sitting.

"Harry," she said loudly once she reached him, grabbing his shoulder. "You need to Occlude your mind now--" But all rational thought was gone when Joanna's forehead exploded in pain. Crying out, she fell to her knees, still clutching onto Harry as chaos erupted throughout the Hall.

*~*~*~*

Joanna's eyes fluttered open and she had to blink rapidly against the bright white light that was stinging her eyes; she was in the hospital wing. Wonderful, she thought dryly. Closing her eyes again, she tried not to think about what had happened in the Great Hall. Judging by the light, it was sometime late in the morning.

Groaning, she rolled over on her side and willed herself back to sleep. She didn't even want to think about what the students were possibly saying about her right now. Burrowing deeper into the covers, she attempted to sleep, despite the voices and emotions that were running through her head. Just then, however, she heard the doors to the infirmary open. Turning over to face that side of the room, she distinctly heard two voices, a male and a female's, but saw nothing.

"Come on, Ron!" hissed the female voice.

"Well I'm sorry that I've gotten too tall to fit under this damn thing without crouching anymore!" snapped the male voice, undoubtedly Ron Weasley's. The other must belong to Hermione Granger, Joanna deduced.

"Don't swear," Hermione hissed back.

Suddenly the two students appeared out of thin air, and Ron was carrying silver, shimmering cloak. Oooh, thought Joanna, an Invisibility Cloak! I wonder where they got a hold of one of those. They both crept over to where Harry was sleeping on the bed next to hers and peered at him closely.

"He's out like a light," said Joanna suddenly, causing the two youths to jump three feet in the air.

"Professor Kent!" cried Hermione, whose face was just as red as Ron's. "You--You're awake! That's wonderful!" Her voice was very shrill and she looked scared out of her wits.

"Miss Granger, are you under the impression that I'm going to reprimand you?" Joanna asked playfully. Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times before squeaking out a "Yes...?"

Joanna chuckled. "Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, I'm not going to do anything, so please calm down and keep a teacher company until Harry wakes up, okay?"

Blushing furiously, the two Gryffindors pulled up some chairs and the three sat in awkward silence until Joanna finally asked, "So what happened after I--ah--passed out?"

"Well, Harry was screaming, too," piped up Ron, "but when you grabbed him, he stopped and about a minute after you hit the floor, he also passed out."

Joanna groaned and ran a tired hand over her face. "And then what happened?" she asked.

"Professor Snape went nutters, that's what!" exclaimed Ron.

Joanna arched an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Oh honestly, Ron," huffed Hermione, "he did not go nutters. He was just...just...Well, to be perfectly honest, he looked, er, concerned." Ron snorted loudly.

"Concerned," Joanna echoed flatly. "That's...slightly out of character."

"That's what we always thought too," she said, fidgeting. "Especially when he carried you all the way here after you fainted. Not Levitated, mind you--carried."

Joanna blinked and stared at Hermione for a long time. That girl sure has some balls. And that sure as hell wasn't the Severus Snape she knew. Just then, a familiar warm feeling washed over her and she knew that Severus was coming.

"You better go," she warned them. "Professor Snape's on his way and I don't think he'd be too thrilled to see you two here." The two teens jumped out of their chairs and hastily wrapped the cloak around themselves.

"Thank you, Professor!" came Hermione's disembodied voice. A shuffling and the opening and closing of the hospital door indicated that they were gone. Not two minutes later, Severus strode into the hall and walked straight to Joanna's bed, not even affording a sideways glance at Harry.

"You're up," he said, raking his eyes across her slender body. "How do you feel?"

Joanna shrugged and pulled herself up into a sitting position. "I'm okay, I s'pose. My head feels like it's been trampled on by a wild hippogriff, but, you know, other than that I feel great."

Severus sat down into the nearest chair, not noticing that there were two, and proceeded to stare at her unabashedly.

"What?" she said, shifting under his heavy gaze.

"What happened last night?" he demanded.

Joanna licked her lips, unaware of what it did to Severus's body, and said, "I honestly do not know. That has never happened to me before." It was the truth...sort of.

Severus studied her closely. She looked stunning sitting there in a dowdy hospital gown with the morning sunlight streaming through the windows and highlighting her messy pale blonde hair. Severus again had the unexpected urge to run his hand through that hair and he was suddenly very grateful that he was wearing loose robes today.

"So how did I end up in the hospital wing?" Joanna asked with a small grin. Let's see him get out of this one. She was not expecting him to fess up to carrying her but that was exactly what he did.

"I carried you, of course," he said, still gazing steadily at her.

"Why didn't you just Levitate me?" she asked, her stomach flopping about like a fish out of water.

Severus smirked. "You weigh hardly anything at all," he said. "I admit that I was not thinking rationally, but I only wanted to get you here as quickly as possible. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Joanna smiled, but her breath caught in her throat when he leaned forward, his face very close to hers. "I must also admit that I was somewhat...worried about you," he breathed, moving in closer, his black onyx eyes boring into hers. Her stomach continued to flop.

"You were?" she squeaked, licking her lips again. Severus inwardly groaned; it drove him mad when she did that.

"Of course," he murmured. He was so close...so very close...

"Professor Snape!" Jerking back, Severus stood abruptly and whirled around, coming face to face with an out-of-breath Daphne Greengrass.

"What is it, Miss Greengrass," he snapped.

"Fight--in the common room," she gasped, clutching the stitch in her side. Snape narrowed his eyes dangerously, then spun back around to face Joanna.

"If you'll excuse me, Professor Kent," he said, nodding his head, before following Daphne out of the room.

Giving a loud cry of frustration, Joanna burrowed herself in the bed sheets and curled up in a fetal position, hoping to alleviate some of the arousal that had been growing in anticipation of the kiss Severus surely would have given her had Daphne not interrupted.

*~*~*~*

Severus stalked down the corridor and into the lower levels of the castle, with Daphne Greengrass practically running behind him in order to keep up with his long strides.

"Sang-pur," he muttered when he reached the dungeon door that would lead into the Slytherin common room. Upon entering, he found himself in the midst of a fistfight between Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. Rushing to where to two were currently beating each other's faces in, Severus grabbed a hold of the necks of their robes and threw them apart. Theodore Nott, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe immediately restrained Draco, while Daphne made a beeline to Zabini, who was also being subdued.

As the two boys glared daggers at each other, Severus assessed the situation. Draco was bleeding profusely from his nose and Blaise had numerous cuts on his face, and neither boy was holding wand. It was an old fashioned, Muggle fistfight.

"What is going on here?" Severus barked, fixing the boys with one of his infamous scowls.

Nobody said a thing for a full minute before Zabini spoke up, exclaiming, "Malfoy had a go at my mother!"

"That's because she's a Mudblood!" Draco yelled, his face flushed with anger. Severus turned quickly and gave Malfoy a steely glare.

"SHE IS NOT A MUDBLOOD!" screamed Blaise, who was now struggling against two large Slytherin boys in an attempt to launch himself at the blond boy.

"Zabini, Malfoy, calm down!" Severus roared. "Both of you, in my office! NOW!" Whipping around, Snape stormed into his office with the two Slytherins in tow.

"Sit," he ordered as he took a seat behind his own desk. Draco and Blaise glared at each other again but eventually sat down, scooting as far away as possible from one another.

"Mr. Malfoy," he spat, "need I remind you that that kind of talk is unacceptable here at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, sir," said Draco through gritted teeth.

Nodding, Severus turned his attentions to Zabini. "And you," he snarled, "will have a week's worth of detention for fighting with a prefect."

"What?" cried Blaise, rising out of his chair, his face screwed up in anger. "That's so typical! One Death Eater always looking out for another, right?"

Severus's blood ran cold and his eyes darkened with suppressed rage. "Mr. Zabini," he hissed in a low, very dangerous voice, "I suggest you not speak of things of which you know nothing about. You now have a month's worth of detention. Get out of my office."

Blaise glowered at his Head of House before storming out of the room, and Severus turned back to where Draco was sitting smugly in the chair. "Mr. Malfoy," he said in the same low voice, "I also suggest you keep you mouth shut about things you do not understand, is that clear?"

"When will my father be out of Azkaban?" Draco asked, completely ignoring what Severus had said.

"I do not know," Snape said truthfully, his voice laced with venom.

"Figures," Draco sneered. "Can I go now?"

Clenching his fists to keep from cursing the boy into oblivion, Severus gave a brief jerk of his head and Malfoy strode out of the room.

"Ten points from Slytherin for inappropriate language, Mr. Malfoy," Snape hissed after the door to his office closed shut with a loud BANG.

~*~