Ancient Prophesy

"So much for a quiet arrival," Harry grumbled, sitting up sheepishly, rubbing his head with one hand and rummaging in his pocket for his glasses with the other. "But I told you it would work." Leaning over, he attempted to quietly right the toppled iron poker holder.

"And I told you I'd land on my ass! We should have driven back."

"You can't drive to Hogwarts. Well, you can if the car flies, but I wouldn't want to try that again," he said with a shudder. "Got me in a lot of trouble that one did. This is much easier."

"It won't be easy if Snape finds us in here," she grumbled, getting to her feet and offering Harry her hand again. He had taken it moments before giving her instructions to "hold on tight" while he slipped the Ravenclaw Ring onto her right finger.

"I thought the man put the ring on the left hand," he had joked to her only moments before.

She was quite certain at that moment he was feeling the effects of several pints of Butterbeer as he reached out and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her tightly into him. Turning, he had then looked right into her eyes and she once again found herself held by the allure of their unbelievable green depth. Drawn to him almost against her will, she had felt her body respond to him in a way she had never experienced before. The Portkey, however, had effectively shattered the moment by dumping them unceremoniously into Snape's classroom. Now she found herself holding his hand once again and not wanting to release it.

"Come on," he sighed, "I can't get caught in here." Letting go of her hand, he pulled his wand from the waist of his pants.

"Let me walk in front of you. Snape must have this place spelled with all sorts of nasty wards. You would have to be desperate--or crazy," he added as an afterthought, "to break in here." He paused a moment and shook his head reflectively.

"Do I dare ask?" She whispered, following him forward into the shadows of the classroom.

Holding his wand before him he spoke the words Quid Aperiuntur, and turned to look back at her. "Um...well, no. It's a long story," he replied, walking further forward, his wand emitting a strange band of yellow light.

"I've got nowhere to go," she said with a forced laugh, watching with interest as he traced the outline of the classroom door with the wand light. "As a matter of fact I don't even know where I'm supposed to sleep tonight."

"I'll take you back to the hospital ward, but I'm finally staying in my own quarters. I officially start my teaching career at 8 am which is in-err...7 hours." He grimaced, looking at his watch by the light of the wand and then turning it to shine on the floor, scanning it slowly back and forth in front of them.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I shouldn't have kept you so late in Ravenglass. I just couldn't leave Elizabeth like she was. She feels like this is all her fault. And the stories she shared with us--things I never knew about my mother. I just couldn't walk away."

"Don't worry about it. I do the same thing when people talk about my parents." Reaching out tentatively he opened the door and cautiously poked his head out into the hallway. "Hum, I guess he only stops people from coming in, not leaving."

"Who'd want to come in?" Raven questioned from behind him, rolling her eyes at the thought of someone willingly coming down here.

Stepping out into the hall, Harry once again swept the light across the floor in front of him and then down the dimly lit corridor. "Nothing here I can see, but this spell doesn't show half of what I know Snape's capable of coming up with. Stay behind me--just in case. Ok?"

"Harry wouldn't it make more sense for you to follow me? I mean--you call it a magical ward, right? Then wouldn't I short circuit it or something?"

Harry shrugged and thought for a moment, then a small impish grin crossed his face. "Well, yes, but if it knocks you out I really don't feel like carrying you all the way up to Madame Pomfrey. Then I'd have to listen to her complain about Snape and the awful things he allows to happen down here."

"Harry, I'm not joking!"

"Neither am I. Madame Pomfrey and Snape have a love-hate relationship that I want no part of," he said, shuddering at the thought.

Walking quietly through the darkened corridor Raven for the first time looked about her. Dim and damp, the torchlight seemed to barely illuminate the path before them. All around, shadows flitted forward and back as each torch flared brighter and then dimmed with their passing.

"How does anyone stand working down here?" Raven whispered to Harry, noting how dull and empty her voice sounded suppressed by the gray, stone walls.

"Just like the Slytherins," Harry remarked, with out looking back at her. "Cold dark and deceptive. They..."

He stopped in mid sentence and Raven felt a strong arm reach back and stop her mid-stride.

At the end of the hall two young men walking with their heads down struggled to carry a large, ornate wooden trunk as it jerked and rocked between them. Stopping short at a stretch of bare, damp stone wall they set the trunk down and straightened up, smug looks of mischief visible even in the shadowy light.

"Mind telling me," Harry spoke loudly, "what the two Slytherin Beaters are doing out of bed, roaming the school well after midnight?"

They had jumped at the sudden sound of his voice, looking wildly around them. Clearly shocked at being discovered, they stood gaping at Harry, and then quickly stepped together in a sophomoric attempt to hide what they had been carrying. Harry looked slowly around them at the crate resting behind their feet, and then stiffened as he realized what they had.

"Hum...do you often bring the Quidditch balls back down to the Slytherin common room, gentlemen?"

"What's it to you, Potter? Your not the Gryffindor captain anymore."

"What's it to me? I might not be the captain any longer, but what I am NOW is your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and you will EXPLAIN yourselves to me!"

He spoke in a tone Raven had not heard him use before. A tone that demanded respect, a tone mature beyond his years. Raven watched as the two youths, full of bravado seconds before, faltered and struggled with indecision. Doing her best to put on a stern face as well, she glowered at both men, hoping to help Harry with his first attempt at student discipline.

"Answer me!" He spoke again, his deep voice reverberating loudly down the stone corridor.

"Um...we ah..." Their bravado gone completely, they looked at both Harry and Raven and stammered to come up with an answer of any type.

"Twenty-five points from Slytherin. Each," he emphasized as the youths stared sullenly at him. "And I'm sure Madam Hooch is going to love having you for detention. She doesn't take kindly to team members playing with equipment after practice. She will notify you when you should report to her."

Without another word, he elbowed his way between the boys, then bent and grabbed the brass handle, motioning for Raven to do the same. Helping to pick up the trunk, Raven continued to put on the best face of intimidation she could and realized with glee the two boys were now staring at her and Harry with looks of trepidation on their guilty faces.

"Do you have something else to add, Mr. Hargrove? Mr. Loar?"

In unison both boys mumbled a disgruntled "no."

"Then I suggest you return to your common room, since I'm sure you have an early practice scheduled for this morning." He stood tall and looked at each knowingly, waiting for them to open the passage to their common room.

"But you'll hear our password," Loar mumbled. You're not supposed to..."

"I know all four passwords," Harry rumbled. "Every instructor does!" Turning to the blank wall he uttered the word "Orcs" and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Turning he pulled hard on the trunk and Raven quickly followed after him lest the handle be pulled from her grasp. The last thing Raven saw before rushing around the corner was identical stares of loathing being thrown after her and Harry.

Mounting the steps at the end of the corridor, Harry turned to Raven, beaming from ear to ear. The look of glee on his face sent her into another fit of laughter that he immediately joined. Sitting down hard on the stairs they continued to laugh breathlessly.

"God, I've wanted to do that forever" he panted, trying to catch his breath. "Lucky for me those two are third years. If that had been the seventh year captain I would have had a problem. He and I have exchanged words with one another on occasion and I don't think he would have backed down so easy. Matter of fact," he went on, "I think I'll make Votnarat take the crate back to Madam Hooch in the morning, and he can explain to her what his Beaters were doing with it."

Reaching the main hall without further event, they walked in silence up the grand staircase and headed in the direction of the hospital wing, stopping one level down. Pausing in front of a heavily carved wooden door, Harry lowered his end of the trunk to the floor. Raven's end jerked loose of her grasp with a thud, shattering the silence around them.

"Let's leave this here," Harry said. "The way they're rocking tonight I don't know if I could bring them back down by myself. You can't levitate Quidditch balls. Keeps a person from tampering with them. I'm curious as to what Loar and Hargrove thought they could do. Stupid gits."

"Now Harry, instructors are not supposed to refer to their students as stupid," Raven chastised ,trying not to laugh at the look of disgust on his face.

"Oh boy, is Snape going to have fun with you," Harry answered back with sarcasm. Removing his wand from his belt, he taped the ornate brass knocker hanging on the door once and stepped quickly aside. The large lion figurehead came to life and growled menacingly at the two of them.

"Lions and tigers and bears, oh my..." he mumbled shyly and then shrugged apologetically at Raven.

"The Wizard of Oz? Oh, that's a laugh!" Raven snickered.

"When I was a kid, I thought a lot about running away to a different home. Well, that movie always stuck with me, and um...I guess I should change the password before any one hears it. Anyway, the place is not much, but it's all mine; and it sure beats a bed in the hospital."

"Or a cot under the stairs?" Raven said, voicing what he had been thinking.

He shrugged without comment and bent to lift the trunk from the floor.

"I hate to send you back to the hospital ward; would you like to stay with me tonight? I mean--um, that is--I should offer you my bed--for you!" He stammered quickly. "I don't even own a couch yet but the chairs are roomy, I could camp there."

An uncomfortable wave of awkwardness washed over him and he suddenly felt very stupid. It seemed as if his head was filling up with a strange empty buzzing, and he could feel his heart hammering in his fingertips as they tightened involuntarily around the trunk handle. He knew he should pull the trunk inside and say good night, but he couldn't seem to look away from her, nor communicate with his feet to walk away from her.

Raven felt a familiar flush rise within her and foolishly looked down, unable to meet the intensity with which he watched her. With a breath to calm her rushing emotions, she spoke quickly before he could notice how flustered she felt.

"Don't worry. I'll be fine, Harry." His offer had been innocent, but she haltingly reached down to lift her end of the trunk, not wanting him to realize what she had been thinking.

When she finally thought she could look up safely, she set the trunk down and looked around the room into which they had walked. It appeared quite spacious, reminding Raven of the simple studio flats she had so often seen over shops or carriage houses in the older sections of New York.

Two overstuffed chairs of burgundy leather sat before the hearth in which a cheery fire crackled. Between them sat a small table upon which chess game pieces--in the process of being played--reflected the firelight off their polished stone surfaces. To the right, a large, ornate desk with carved claw feet supported a pile of books and papers, along with several quills resting motionless in an inkwell. Behind the desk, a built-in bookcase sat, half full with a small collection of leather bound books and scrolls of ribbon-tied parchment. Across to the left, Raven's eyes lingered on the bed he had so graciously offered her--a four-poster with the same matching carved lion ornamentation found on the door and desk. The hanging velvet bed curtains draped to the floor, and Raven noted they echoed the color of the deep red sunset watched by she and Harry so many hours before.

She didn't need an invitation to want to sleep in that bed. Feeling herself flush once more at the thought of Harry's offer, she began backing slowly out of the room. "I'm sure I can find my way to the infirmary from here," Raven remarked quietly. "There's no need for you to walk me the rest of the way. Really."

He stepped forward after her, not really wanting to part company just yet. "It's easy to get lost in these halls; the stairs move, doors disappear, or a rotten poltergeist might send you in the wrong direction."

"No, really. You've done so much for me already. Thank you."

Quickly, before she even realized it, Raven's impulsive mind had carried her back to Harry's side, and she found herself placing a simple kiss on his cheek. With a startled look, his hand flew up and touched the place where she had kissed him. A bemused grin spread slowly across his face, and he stood watching her as she backed out of the room and shut the door between them.

"God help me," she thought as she leaned back against the carved door, totally oblivious to the lion's menacing growls. Closing her eyes, visions of Tarot cards flashed through her conscious mind, the image of the Lovers' embrace the clearest of them all. How did she do it? How had Helga Hufflepuff known I would fall for this man so quickly?

~*~

Harry's brain seemed to have jammed. The only part of his body that had any feeling to it was his cheek, and that still burned as though burnished with fire. He sat down numbly on his bed and stared at the door Raven had just closed. He should be climbing under the covers of his own bed, enjoying the blessed comfort of the cool sheets against his bare skin. But his blood was on fire right now and the thought of his bed, bare skin and Raven only made matters worse. How had he been so stupid to offer her his bed? He hadn't meant it to sound like an invite to stay with him. He really had meant to take the chair after all, but based on her reaction that's not how she had taken it!

God Harry, you are such an idiot! Running his hands through his hair he stood and paced the length of the room. "You can't let this happen!" he said aloud, shouting to the walls around him.

From the moment he held the water to her lips four days ago, the second he had touched her bare back with his hand, he had felt himself connect with her. Now what? Simple: he would not let these feeling go any further. He had learned long ago not to permit...not to let in... God, he needed a cold shower!

Stripping quickly, he walked into the bathroom and turned the water on full blast. Its icy sting caused an involuntary gasp to escape his lips and he reached for the wall to steady himself. No. No one else would be hurt because of him.

He stood there, allowing the water to numb his senses. Harry pushed it all to the back of his mind: the emotions, the memories so raw and aroused that they were difficult to suppress this time. He had done it for so long that burying feelings was second nature to him. This should be just as easy. He didn't want to feel. If he chilled himself to the core he would be numb to all of it. Lifting his face to the spray, he washed away the hot tears that rolled silently down his cheeks as he refused himself the chance to grieve for what he had lost and what would never be.

~*~

As Severus walked through the empty castle entrance, he realized just how long a night it had been. He was cold, he was exhausted and he was hungry. That, and he really needed something for the shooting pains in his head and arm. Realizing a cold, empty bed would do nothing to stop his misery his lean frame slumped slightly. Six hours sleep would never be enough, and there was no way in hell the House Elves would feed him. At least he could do something about the pain. His mind had already begun to choose the ingredients he would need...Willow Bark, Coltsfoot, Chamomile, Ginger-the taste would be awful but he need something to combat the mental and physical fatigue that had seized him.

Looking up the large staircase, he realized he should let the Headmaster know of his return, but he simply couldn't bring himself to climb one more step. He only wanted to go down; down into his blessedly quiet dungeon. Dumbledore would understand.

~*~

Making her way in silence to the hospital wing, Raven couldn't help but think about the last few days she had spent with Harry. Certainly she had never given much credit to Tarot cards and fortune telling, but she couldn't refute there was some connection between she and Harry. But what was it?

Definitely he was worth spending time with! Kind, thoughtful and intelligent, he appealed to her tastes on an intellectual level. Physically she couldn't deny what he did to her. Tall and rock hard, he had the body of a dancer. Just the vision of him jumping down, bare chested, from the balcony at the Leaky Caldron made her week in the knees. The look of righteous anger on his face, the determination in his eyes--Raven shook the vision from her mind. Those eyes. His green eyes took in everything around him, yet at the same time let nothing out.

At least not to the untrained observer. For some reason Raven found it easy to read his moods, his feelings. The intensity with which he watched the world--yes, her mother really would have called him an old soul. And then there was his smile. Or more aptly, the lack of one. He didn't smile often, but when he did it was the nicest, sweetest smile in the world, and all the more priceless when it finally showed through the guarded look he so often sported. The fact that he had finally laughed with her this evening surprised her, but she suspected it had something to do with the drinks people kept buying him in the Shandygaff.

Reaching the hospital corridor, Raven found herself wishing she had taken Harry up on his offer. She didn't feel like sleeping alone in the large ward. She couldn't help but feeling uneasy at the thought of it. She slowed as she approached the door and stopped abruptly as a cold chill touched the nape of her neck. Turning, she let out a startled squeak as she found herself standing face to face with a beautiful shimmering gray apparition.

"Good morning, My Lady; I am pleased to see you have returned safely home."

Swallowing her heart from her throat, Raven answered the woman, sounding much calmer than she felt. "Um...yes, thank you. Ah... and you are?"

"Your servant, My Lady. My home lies within the halls of Ravenclaw House. The students call me the Grey Lady. I knew your mother well as a student there."

"I'm finding people knew her a lot better than I did," she said bitterly. "I would have loved to learn all about her time here. Hold on--you know who I am. How?"

"Yes, I know exactly who you are. I grieved to learn about your flight to the States and of Ezmarelda's true passing. She deserved better than the life she found herself in. You both did."

"Well, now I'm here without her, so I guess I've got to make the best of it. Even if it does involve working with Snape," Raven said, with as much gusto as she could muster. After what she had learned of his past, the thought of working with him sickened her. "Why the Headmaster feels I should help him is beyond me."

If it was possible for a ghost to look uncomfortable, then that was the look Raven saw on her opaque face. What was it with this man that even ghosts had cause to pause at the thought of him?

"I'm sure that is for Professor Snape to explain, My Lady," she responded, looking down demurely at her feet floating inches above the stone floor. She floated a little distance up, hovering hesitantly and then dropped down again to face Raven.

"Professor Snape has prepared you a room adjacent to his private office. He used it as a workroom but...well, you shall see. He certainly went out of his way to make the chamber into acceptable living quarters." Here she paused and bobbed a little in mirth. "The House Elves claim he was being quite a prat about the whole thing," she said, looking around her as if afraid of being caught gossiping.

"Come, I'll show you the way, My Lady." With a curtsey she glided around and set off back down the corridor, her fluid grey gown flowing behind her.

"I'd rather sleep alone in the Hospital Wing. if you don't mind," Raven grumbled loudly behind her. "The dungeon! Why does it have to be the dungeon?" She said, again calling out after the retreating spirit.

"Damn." Following quickly to catch up with the Grey Lady, Raven voiced as many objections to the sleeping arrangement as she could. The ghostly maiden only smiled, agreeing with each point as they made their way back down to the main entrance of Hogwarts.

Descending down the Great Staircase they turned and then stopped immediately upon the realization that Severus Snape was watching them from the dungeon entrance.

"One-thirty in the morning, Ms. Ravenclaw," Snape's unctuous voice chastised, rolling down the stone steps to the dungeons below. "I don't know how they do things in the States, but here we expect to find students in their beds." His eyes narrowed and he stared in challenge at both Raven and the Grey Lady.

Meeting his stare without flinching, the Grey Lady tilted her head, pursed her lips knowingly and spoke back in a quiet voice. "My, how familiar that sounds, Severus! Seems like only yesterday someone was telling a Ravenclaw head girl and a Slytherin seventh year something very similar."

Raising her silver brows in question, she turned to Raven, curtsied with the words, "My Lady," and zipped away, to the ambivalent stare of Severus Snape.

"First off, I'm not a student," Raven lit into him before he could speak again. "Secondly, I'm not accustomed to a curfew. And lastly, it's none of your damn business how late I'm out! Besides," she paused, even though she knew the danger of continuing, "looks like you had a hot date yourself? Must not have gotten too much action; you look quite tense."

To her surprise, the violent reaction she had baited for never came. Actually, it seemed to her that Snape calmed slightly as if what she said was in fact true. Unclenching his balled fists he quietly answered her.

"You--are--correct, Ms. Ravenclaw." The words appeared to taste bitter as he spoke them but he continued nonetheless. "What you do on your time is your business, just as my time is my business. However," the cutting edge returned to his steel hard voice, "When you are on my time you will do as I command--no questions--no attitude--no smart ass responses." Taking one step toward her, he met her eye to eye and Raven felt his ominous presence bearing down on her.

"You will dress in appropriate work robes, not in a skirt half way up your backside," he said, looking down at her legs with a sneer. "You will arrive one half hour early every morning to prepare the necessary potion supplies to my satisfaction. The Headmaster gave you leave to visit Diagon Alley. From this point on you are my ward, my apprentice...your dates outside this castle shall be approved by me."

"Aah!" She snorted in anger. "It wasn't a ..."

His hand flew up in a flash, one finger inches from her face, stopping Raven mid-sentence. "I'm not interested in the who's or the why's of your life Ms. Ravenclaw. My only interest is in your safety and that you understand the rules of my classroom. Do You ?" His voice thundered down upon her and she flinched involuntarily at it.

Slowly and clearly she met his fire with ice of her own. "Yes, Sir!"

"Good. Follow me and I will take you to your private quarters." He moved into the shadows of the stairwell without another word, his black cloak flowing down the stairs behind him.

Well, shit, that went well, she thought as she watched his cloak disappear into the darkness. Severus Snape -1, Raven Klause-0. Then, with a devious look she followed him, satisfied in the knowledge that pink work robes would even the score.

~*~

Looking into the wardrobe of her temporary home, Raven marveled at the efficiency of the Wizarding delivery system. Somehow the robes she had left at Madam Malkin's for alteration now hung there, pressed and ready to wear. The winter cloak had been folded and placed on an upper shelf and the black Docs purchased in London shone with a polish a Drill Sergeant would envy. The rest of her London purchases also lay organized in small but neat piles upon the magnificent mahogany sleigh bed.

She had been enchanted with the bed the moment she saw it. Intricate patterns of ivy and woodland flora stood out in carved relief along the headboard and trailed down the sides and rail. Heaped with pillows and covered with a rich wine duvet, it looked incredibly inviting. Beneath her feet a wool area rug, woven in the scene of a forest hunt, caused her to start when the movements of a roe deer caught her eye as it bounded away from hounds in quick pursuit. She jumped back in surprise and then watched in awe as the deer plowed through deep thickets, its magnificent rack illuminated in the full moonlight.

Well, she thought, the man certainly shows wonderful taste in furniture. Turning full circle once more, she stood and looked with approval at her dungeon room. The lack of windows bothered her somewhat, but the fragrant beeswax candles and cedar log burning in the fire more than made up for it. How did he know--cedar wood? The earthy smells and the warm and inviting colors reminded her of Cedarwood and Sage Advice and she found herself for the first time missing the shop terribly. The only problem she could see--the lack of an alarm clock.

"He wants me a half-hour early, he'll get me a half-hour early even if it means staying up all night." As tired as she felt, she knew the internal clock she so often relied on would not wake her early enough. The morning sunshine wouldn't do it either. Climbing over the few new clothes set on top of the bed, she pulled a corner of the wine duvet around her shoulders and lay back with a sigh, meaning to enjoy the warm comfort of the inviting bed for only a moment. She never felt her eyes close in exhausted sleep.

~*~

"My Lady--My Lady? Miss Raven, please you must awake."

Raven felt a cool breeze blow across her face and she rolled away from it trying to snuggle deeper into her world of sleep. She tugged at the duvet only to realize she was lying on top of it, covered with only its upper quarter.

"Trust me, My Lady, when I say you do not want to be late your first day. When Professor Snape comes in late at night his moods turn twice as foul!"

A hand of ice stroked the bottom of Raven's foot and she yanked it away with a squeal. Scrambling out of bed in a stupor, her eyes flew wide open with fright as she looked around her, uncertain for a moment where she was.

"Damn, what time is it?" She mumbled, blinking to clear her vision.

"A lady of your standing would do well to mind her language," said the grey apparition hovering at the foot of her bed.

"What?" She yawned, wiping at her eyes which were now watering from lack of sleep. "Oh, yes...I'm sorry. But shit, you scared the life out of me." Seeing the look on the Grey Lady's face at the sound of a second curse word in less than thirty seconds, Raven apologized once more and plopped back down on the bed brushing clumsily at the tangle of black hair in her face.

The Grey Lady just stared at her, a patronizing look on her face. "I can assure you that you are not dead. But you will be if you don't hurry and dress. Professor Snape does not like to be kept waiting."

"Damn," she mumbled under her breath. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to the hour."

"Oh, man..." Jumping up again, Raven rushed to strip off the clothes she had slept in. "Bathroom?" she asked in panic, looking imploringly at her ghostly maid-in-waiting, who pointed to a door sharing the wall with the fireplace. Running through the door, she realized the fireplace was open on both sides, allowing it to heat the living quarters and the washroom jointly. Bending and looking through the flames she called out to the Grey Lady for help.

"Could you get my pink robes from the wardrobe for me, please?" Whirling around to the sink, she turned on the spigot and cupped her hands, catching the icy water and splashing it onto her face. Looking up into the mirror she realized with rising panic she had neither a brush nor a comb with which to tame her tangle of hair.

"Yes, you certainly are a mess aren't you," said a drawling male voice from somewhere in front of her.

With another cry of alarm Raven grabbed at a towel hanging next to her, held it tightly to her bare chest, and backed quickly out of the door, stepping completely through the Grey Lady.

"ARGGHHHH!" she gasped, sucking in her breath and dancing backward even further into the room.

The Grey Lady turned to face Raven, laughing as she did so. "I see we do have a lot to teach you, don't we."

"WHAT?-what...oh," Raven said, shivering with delayed reaction. "You are cold!"

"Yes, dear, death does that to you."

"There's someone in there!" She stammered, her lips now slightly blue from the cold water dripping down her front and her ghostly walk-through.

"No need for concern, it's just the mirror, My Lady. If he gets too cheeky just throw the towel over him--he hates that."

"The mirror?" Raven answered skeptically, her forehead creased with deep lines of confusion. "The mirror just told me I look a mess and I'm not to worry?"

"Well yes, you are a mess; but we can fix that. You do need to know I am here at your service, My Lady, but..."

"Please quit calling me that," Raven interrupted her. "It makes me more uncomfortable than I already am with this place. Talking mirrors for Christ sake-as if I'm not under enough pressure in this world, the mirror gets to voice his opinion too!"

"As you wish My...Miss Raven. But I am here to serve you. Physically there is not much I can help with any longer." With a sad shrug of her shoulders she continued. "You will need to get your own robes from the wardrobe, " she said, looking wistfully at it. "Shame really, I use to take great delight in assisting Lady Evelyn with her gowns. I can teach you the spells to fix your hair and such. Every Lady's attendant should know all proper spells to assist her mistress."

"Oh please, I don't think you need to serve me." Raven answered, taking her robe from the hanger. "I can't handle that this morning. I need a friend here, not a servant."

"You are so very much like your mother, Miss Raven." With a smile she floated toward Raven and continued. "Come now, we must hurry and fix your hair. Your wand should be on the night table."

"Can we comb it but leave it down?" Raven wondered out loud.

"Professor Snape will want it pulled up and out of the way."

"Screw Snape. I want it down."

"Oh, yes. Very much like your mother. Let's try this then, shall we?"

Raven dressed quickly, and within a few moments had learned the spells necessary to tame her hair back into submission. It was too simple really, and she silently cursed her mother for all those years of battling over the length of her locks. When making anything that would be sold in Cedarwood, Ezmarelda had insisted she and Raven slick their hair with a lanolin based cream to prevent stray hair from falling into the kettles.

"'Tis very good for the hair, darlin' and hairnets just don't work as well."

Her mother's voice echoed in her mind and Raven couldn't help but wish she hadn't given Ezmarelda such a difficult time about it. Yes, it made her hair look greasy. But once washed out, her hair would shine like the stars of the night sky. How much easier these spells would have been! How very much her mother had given up to keep them safe.

"You must go now, Miss, it is almost seven." The Grey Lady hovered back and looked critically at Raven. "Are you sure this is the way you want to look? He's certain to be in a foul mood to start, and if you're late it will only make matters worse."

"I don't plan on being late," Raven answered quickly, looking around the room, hoping to locate the small package she had picked up while shopping with Harry in London. Sure enough, someone from the Cauldron had sent it on with her clothes.

"Thank goodness, I think I'm going to need this." Grabbing the package, she took a deep breath in preparation for what was next.

"I think it best just to wait outside the door without touching it." The Grey Lady said with concern. "Professor Snape takes great pride in keeping people out of his classroom until he wants them in."

"Oh I'm not going through the door. He wanted me there early he's getting me in the room early! " This said, Raven slipped her ring off her finger and with a determined grimace put it back on again. The Grey Lady, with an exasperated shake of her head, watched as Raven vanished from the room.

~*~

Harry awoke to the stares of large lamp-like eyes inches from his face. He swung out hard with his arm in an attempt to knock the thing away from him but only succeeded in bashing the back of his hand on the bed post. Dobby had pulled away just in time, narrowly avoiding the smashing blow aimed at his head.

Howling in pain, Harry rolled off the bed and then lunged for the little House Elf backing slowly across his bed.

"Dobby! How many times have I asked you NOT to do that! One of these days I'm going to kill you, and it won't be an accident!" Sucking on his injured knuckles, he climbed slowly back into his bed and lay there, hoping his heart would find its way back into his chest on its own.

"Master Harry Potter would never hurt Dobby, sir." The Elf beamed, looking affectionately down on the prone Harry. "It's not in your nature, sir. But Dobby will rap his own knuckles on the post if it would make Harry Potter feel better, sir."

"No, Dobby. No need," he sighed with frustration. Harry had almost forgotten the one good thing about being unconscious in the Hospital Ward. No Dobby to take care of him. If that's what you could call it--killing him with kindness sounded more like it. Madam Pomfrey had banned Dobby from the Hospital Ward Harry's sixth year after an unfortunate accident involving a shaving spell Dobby had used on him while there. Harry still didn't have any hair on his chest thanks to that one.

As soon as Dobby had learned that Harry planed to stay on at Hogwarts as an instructor, he had informed Headmaster Dumbledore that he would be quitting his job as a Hogwarts House Elf and seek employment with Harry. At half the pay of course. Dumbledore had graciously accepted his resignation and then chuckled in glee at the thought of Harry with Dobby for a House Elf.

Sitting back up slowly, Harry reached for his glasses and wand. Not surprisingly, his wand was already in his hand, and Dobby was stepping timidly forward, Harry's glasses in his outstretched fingers. Looking at the wand, Harry shook his head and marveled at the fact that Dobby had survived with him this long.

"Sir, Dobby has taken the liberty of purchasing you new robes for your wondrous new profession. You shall look as grand as our great Headmaster, you shall. Dobby has them all pressed and laid out for your approval and breakfast is awaiting you. Winky, sir, was to be certain that she cooked all your favorites, but she didn't know what it was that the Great Harry Potter desired so she cooked them all, sir."

Harry's eyes focused on a tray by his chair laden with platters set so haphazardly that they must have been magically fixed in place. Everything that Harry thought of as a breakfast sat balanced on the tray awaiting his inspection: fruits, pastries, meats, eggs and grains, all sizes, shapes and forms of them. How many times had he survived at the Dursley's on cold canned soup for breakfast? A breakfast like this would have been welcome then, but now...his stomach had too many knots in it to eat.

"Master Harry Potter must keep up his strength. Dobby is seeing you go thin again."

"Just not hungry much, Dobby," Harry remarked, walking over to where his new robes lay, pressed and displayed for his approval. Seeing the shattered look on Dobby's face, Harry detoured to the tray and removed a platter of bacon and toast balanced precariously on the edge.

"Thank Winky for me, will you?" He said, watching the transformation in Dobby.

"Oh, sir! She'll be beside herself with happiness knowing that you have decided to eat this morning."

Harry couldn't help but smile at Dobby's joy and wondered what he would do if he admitted to liking the looks of the robes Dobby had chosen. In various shades of emeralds, wines and browns, they looked more luxurious than any robes he had owned before.

The emerald robe's fabric, embossed with patterns he recognized as the Ephemeris Zodiacal positions, caught his attention. Slipping it on, he realized the robes must have been magically tailored to fit his frame. Most robes needed letting out to fit his broad shoulders and then taking in at the waist, but not these. Somehow the tailored fit, the silver button front and the pleated back and trailing tails made him feel older. Old enough to teach, that is. House Elves were amazing when it came to the magic they used to dress their charges. He knew this robe would go well with the new clothes he and Raven had picked out Saturday. He'd wear those this morning too.

"Dobby, these are perfect." As soon as the words came out his mouth, Harry knew the mistake he had made. Like a runaway train, Dobby slammed into him, tears of joy wetting the waist of the new robe.

"Get off, Dobby! Please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean...look, can you do me a BIG favor?" he asked, prying free of the elf's grasp and pointing to distract him. "See the Quidditch trunk there? Could you bring it up to my office at the end of my first class? After all, you seem to have a way with Quidditch balls." Harry looked down at him and intentionally met the sheepish grin that spread across Dobby's face.

~*~

Raven walked about the Potions classroom for the first time. Though she had been here four times prior, she certainly hadn't looked around much. The pickled animals floating in glass jars on various shelves made the room a bit creepy, but other than that she realized how perfect an arrangement Snape had down here.

She had started a fire first thing in the enormous hearth. The huge fireplace, with its multiple spits and cauldrons, made it an ideal brewing location. One large fire now burned within, sustained by two huge slow-burning logs, and the unused spits were folded back into the cavernous grate. A space this size could easily accommodate four projects at once. Her mother would have loved this hearth.

Walking the length of the classroom rows, Raven ran her fingers down the wooden worktables worn smooth from use, their polished clean surfaces glowing in the firelight. Two stools sat neatly under each table and a single cauldron supported by a small iron frame sat on top. The floor was spotless, not a stain or scuff to be seen, and Raven marveled at the work put into maintaining this perfection.

Stopping and looking into the nearest cauldron she shook her head 'no'. Though she knew these cauldrons must be as clean as the rest of the classroom, she hesitated to use one. Looking once more at the preserved specimens around her, she shuddered at the thought of anything like that floating in a cauldron she wanted to make a drink in.

"Well, Snape, you must have a private store here somewhere; Mum always had one."

Walking to a closed door to the left of Snape's desk, Raven reached out tentatively and touched the handle. A numbing pain shot up to her elbow and she shook her arm, dancing around at the tingly feeling left in it.

"Ahhhch...it's like hitting your funny bone!" She said out loud giving her arm a final hard shake.

"Hmmmm." Doubting that Alohamora would work, she pulled her wand from a pocket inside the robe and stood contemplating her next move.

"I wonder?" Stepping forward, she touched the tip of the wand to the door handle and held it there. Immediately a buzzing sound filled her ears and she experienced the now-familiar tightening in her arm and chest, followed by the narrowing of her vision. Focusing on the handle, like she had with Draco's wand, she struggled to keep the energy flowing into her confined to the wand. It seemed to be absorbing much of the power and limiting the amount of pain she felt in her arm. Suddenly, with a resounding crack, the handle dissolved in a shower of molten sparks and the door it had just held shut swung wide open.

Sitting back hard on Snape's desk, Raven waited while her full vision returned and then stood up, amazed at what she had just done.

"Cool."

Stepping into the room several wall torches and candles lit of their own accord, and Raven marveled yet again at the practical side of Snape. It was clear that he knew his business as an herbalist. The room was equipped with long drying frames netted with gauze, hooks above a small fireplace for heat drying, and open shelves along the walls, drilled with holes to allow for circulation. The air was cool, dry and thick with the delicious, spicy sent of drying plants and herbs. Raven inhaled longingly and detected at least a half dozen smells she knew by heart. An entire wall held dark ceramic jars of varying shapes and sizes, all labeled clearly in both Latin an English. Many more glass jars held unrecognizable 'items' and Raven dreaded to learn what they might be.

Things like BLOWFISH GLANDS and BILLYWIG WINGS didn't sound like they belonged in any blend she knew about. A surprisingly modern long counter ran along one side of the room, displaying a remarkable assortment of mortars, pestles, mixing bowls, cauldrons and spoons, all immaculately clean.

She needed a cauldron, and the small brass one she spotted would do nicely for what she had in mind. Taking it into the classroom, Raven filled the container with water and hung it on the lowest spit over the fire. Retrieving the small package she had brought with her from atop Snape's desk, she set to work.

~*~

Harry watched his first year defense students enter the classroom in either tight little clusters or as single frightened students who rushed to join their friends at a desk. The whispering was hardly that, and Harry caught bits and pieces of conversation, which seemed mostly to pertain to the fact that the new teacher had finally arrived. A few seventh year students were aware of the truth--that Harry had in fact been near death in the hospital ward at the start of term--but only those considered his friends.

Defense teachers were supposed to be invincible! Thinking back on the Defense teachers of the past seven years, Harry realized that he was lucky not to be dead. With the exception of Remus as his third year instructor, most of Harry's defense skills were self-taught or drilled into him by Hermione.

As Harry looked around at all the subdued faces, he could only wonder what these young children must think of him. Clearly they all knew who he was. Words caught his attention--scar, Potter, Gryffindor Seeker, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named--and Harry realized for the first time how much he would need to teach these children to assure their safety in the coming year. Thoughts of Voldemort lingered like a dark shadow always in the back of his mind. However, the slightest mention of the You-Know-Who, Dark Magic or Death Eaters, and those memories rushed back in a single, menacing wave. Yes, Harry Potter knew better than anyone what his young students would be up against, and he vowed to give them better than he had been given.

When the whole class had taken their seats, Harry cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. "Professor Dumbledore and I have discussed where you are in your studies and I'm quite glad to learn how much farther advanced most of you are now compared to where I was at your age. Though I can never hope to replace Professor Dumbledore as a teacher, I will promise to teach you everything I possibly can to prepare you for what is ahead of us outside these walls."

The whole front row listened with rap attention as Harry continued to describe the planned curriculum for the coming month. All of them girls, they stared at him with large doe eyes and dreamy smiles. He cringed at the thought of Gilderoy Lockhart and again he vowed to prove himself worthy of Dumbledore's faith in him as a Hogwarts teacher. Shyly, a young Hufflepuff in the center of the room raised her hand.

"Pro-Professor Potter? You said we wouldn't cover creatures controlled by Dark Magic until after Christmas. But I...well we were wondering if it is true what they say about you killing a Basilisk your first year here." She put her hand down quickly and Harry couldn't help but remember Hermione questioning Professors Binns about the Chamber of Secrets.

"Er...I'm really not prepared..." Harry started to answer but a boy in the back had leaned forward on his desk and blurted out: "You had to use Dark Magic to open the chamber didn't you? Will we learn how to do that?"

"How about when you fought You-Know-Who for the third time? Will we learn those spells too?" Another voice rang out from the right.

The entire class nodded in agreement and looked expectantly at Harry for an answer.

Merlin help him, he had a room full of Colin Creeveys--as if it wasn't going to be bad enough to teach Colin himself in class. Staring at them in shock, he didn't even know where to start.

"First off, I'm not a Professor. Mr. Potter will be fine, though it may take me some time to get use to the Mr. part," he added quietly. "Second...um...the Basilisk...well that happened my second year."

"Yeah," another voice from the back added, "the Mountain Troll was his first year and his second battle with The Dark Lord!"

Harry closed his eyes in exasperation. He had to put a stop to this as fast as he could. There simply was no reason for these children to think what he had done was exciting or glamorous. He had been fighting for his life or those of others, and to make light of that fact would be to betray the memories of those who had not been so fortunate to survive.

"Every single one of you needs to realize something very important before we go any further in this class," he said slowly. "I've done nothing more than any other wizard or witch would have done to stop Lord Voldemort. There was nothing fun or exciting about fighting a Basilisk, and in all honesty I would be dead right now if not for the help I received from Professor Dumbledore's phoenix." At this he stopped, wondering how much more truth to share with them. Remembering Dumbledore's speech after Cedric's death, he continued.

"A wizard named Tom Riddle, who only later in his life took the name Lord Voldemort, was controlling that Basilisk." This said, the volume of his voice rose with emotion as he watched his students flinch at the name Voldemort. "While in my class you will use his name. No You-Know-Who's...He-Who-Must-Not's...or Dark Lords!"

"You will learn who he was, who he is and how to defend yourself against the evil that has corrupted him. I am not the only person fighting Voldemort. There are men and women both outside and inside these walls fighting him and his followers as we speak. There are men and women who have died fighting against him. I'm no more special than they, and you will remember that!"

Not a sound followed. Not a head turned from him. Harry locked eyes with several of them, willing them to understand. Several looked down in fright but a few met his gaze without turning away. Harry hoped at least those students understood.

~*~

The girl was nowhere to be seen and he was furious. He ought to go drag the retched thing from her bed and haul her down here himself, but as quickly as the notion entered his head he dismissed it with something close to panic.

Dumbledore's words blazed in his mind. " If you cannot escape your past, you will be unable to shape a future in which you will survive, Severus." How many mornings had he been drug from bed, dead tired and frightened, by a father still reeking with the smells of the night before. No, let her sleep. He'd find a proper way to torture her when she arrived.

Turning back to the door of his potions classroom he pulled his wand and voiced several words to unlock and remove the spells he had placed around it. Oh yes, he could think of several nasty jobs he needed done; jobs saved for just such an occasion as this. If Raven thought she could stroll in and expect...but the idea went no further than this. As he opened the door he immediately sensed something different in the very air of his classroom.

Stretching out his hand, wand still drawn, he stepped cautiously into the warm, well-lit class, his over-large nostrils dilating from the earthy fragrance greeting him. For a few seconds he simply couldn't believe what he saw, let alone what he smelt. Unclenching his teeth so the vein in his temple wouldn't explode, he spoke in a soft and dangerous voice.

"What..." he stopped, nose raised, nostrils flaring, "is that brewing in my fire?"

"Coffee." Handing him a mug, Raven smiled mater-of-factly and then turned away before the look on his face caused her to burst out laughing.

"Black and bitter," she continued. "Right up your alley. I'm sure you'll like it."

"How...coffee...my fire? You brewed coffee in my classroom! That's my brass cauldron!" he sputtered, yanking the small craft out of the fire.

Turning back, she almost lost her composure at the sight of Snape, hot mug in one hand, hot cauldron handle in the other.

"Yeah, I was hopin' it would give it a Moroccan flavor," she retorted, thoroughly enjoying the look of fury as he grappled with both objects, trying to set them down quickly. "I found a Starbucks in London and Harry tells me that coffee is an unknown commodity here. So this wonderful barista named Teri ground a Sumatra so I could..."

"ENOUGH! Just how did you get in here with out setting off any of my wards?"

Raven held her right hand up, palm inches from her face. Spreading her fingers open she wiggled them and peeked through at him, a smug grin plastered across her face. The Ravenclaw ring winked brazenly in the firelight.

His eyes opened round and he gaped without saying a word at the aqua ring on her hand. Snapping his mouth shut, he quickly regained his composure and narrowed his gaze, glaring at Raven with the look of an avenging angel.

"How dare you come into this classroom," he said with fury "and use my"...again his brain shifted suddenly as his narrowed eyes finally registered an unaccustomed sight.

"What... are you wearing?"

Score! She thought . Severus Snape--1, Raven Klause-1.

"Well, honestly! You told me you wanted, and I quote: "appropriate work robes, not in a skirt half way up your backside.'" She mimicked him to perfection, right down to the snide tone and a quick glance at his legs.

With a sudden step forward, he opened his mouth as if to swallow her whole and then stopped again without comment. Tilting his head to the side Raven watched as the wheels of his mind ground to a screeching halt and his guarded, closed face for a second showed he was seeing someone else.

"You look like a Muggle confection at a country fair." He stated maliciously, his eyes taking all of her in at once.

"Cotton candy, you mean?" And Raven puzzled at this notion. Surely Snape was not a fan of cotton candy? "Why, thank you, I'll take that as a compliment," she said sweetly, knowing very well he hadn't meant it as one.

~*~

A thumping noise at the classroom door caused Harry to look up from the group of students at his desk who had gathered around him awaiting help with their spell classifications. Before anyone could open it, the door burst open with a bang and bounced loudly off the back of the wall. Floating forward on its own, the Quidditch trunk slowly levitated into the classroom to the bewildered stares of Harry's first years.

"Dobby, you can come in, you know," Harry hollered toward the door, knowing full well that the only magic capable of controlling Quidditch equipment like that had to be coming from the elf.

Great globe eyes fixed meaningfully on Harry from around the door jam and he ever so slowly slid around the frame, following the wall to stand almost in the corner of the room, twisting his ears nervously.

"Master Potter, sir," the elf stammered, "Dobby's not suppose to be seen in the classrooms by the students, sir. It is not proper."

The same young boy who had shouted out about the Chamber spoke up again, causing quiet laughter to ripple through the room.

"Blimey, is that a real House Elf?" he asked, the awe clear on his face. "Man, Mr. Potter, that's just ace."

Ignoring him, Harry spoke. "It's my classroom, Dobby, and my friends are always welcome here."

The elf stopped his ear twisting and stood frozen, staring at Harry in wonderment.

"Harry Potter called Dobby a friend?" said the elf shrilly, gazing up at Harry. He heaved a great sob as tears began to run from his orb-like eyes. "Dobby tells everyone what a great and wondrous wizard you are sir, but now he will tell everyone that you are Dobby's wonderful friend too."

All around him students beamed in delight at Dobby words. I just can't catch a break today, can I? Harry thought as several of the first row girls teared up right along with Dobby.

"Thanks, Dobby, just put the trunk into my office for now." Pointing to the door at the top of the a short flight of stairs, Harry felt himself flush with embarrassment and hurried to looked back down to the group around his desk, continuing to point out the relevant passages in their text.

Minutes later, a piercing yelp split the air around them and Harry found himself in the middle of bedlam. A sharp crack followed the yell and the next thing he saw was Dobby being flung backward down the stairs by an enraged Lucius Malfoy. Several of the girls cried out in alarm as they watched the helpless elf land in a crumpled heap at the foot of the stairs.

Drawing his wand, Harry shouted for the boy closest to the classroom door to run for help. "Tell them Lucius Malfoy is here!"