The First Task - Part Two

Alicia was desperate. And frustrated. And angry. Time was running out: Monday was the deadline to achieve the first task. Or not. The four champions had agreed to meet at the Boathouse after the evening meal and toll up who had succeeded in gaining Snape's praise. Or not.

The Gryffindor Chaser left the common room wearing her Quidditch practise robes, her face scrunched up and her lower lip bitten almost to the point of bleeding. She knew that when the deadline expired, the Protean Charm would automatically activate, and the winner of the task would be revealed when their bead turned black. Alicia's bead remained as white as ever.

She had tried. Truly, she had. She had been so close to brewing a perfect, praiseworthy potion, but the carelessness and ineptitude of the idiotic Jared had caused that horrible cauldron explosion. Alicia felt sure that Snape had tarred her with the same brush, as she had been beside Jared, in the wrong place at the wrong time. Thankfully, Snape's and Luca's instinctive actions had saved both her and simple-minded Simpleton.

Alicia sighed as she navigated the ever-moving stairways down to the Entrance Hall. She couldn't begrudge Luca's success; besides many things, Luca was becoming a friend. Because of this wonderful, clandestine tournament, Alicia was able to experience great release and joy in sharing her long-held infatuation for Professor Snape.

There was no one in Gryffindor she could share her secret with; if anyone in her House ever found out about her obsession, she would definitely be labelled mental – she could just imagine the unceasing badgering from Fred and George Weasley, and what would Angelina Johnson think?

There was great freedom in her evolving friendship with Luca. He was Hufflepuff, gay, and therefore utterly safe. Alicia felt she would be able to confide in him and share some of her most intimate disappointments and insecurities regarding Snape, and she hoped Luca might mutually confide in her as well. She had already confessed the details of the anonymous Valentine she'd sent to her Potions master two years ago, and her shocked disappointment when he tore it up right in front of her.

Alicia had always looked forward to Potions – not so much for the subject matter, but to bask in Snape's presence. But now, able to share giggles and gossip with such a kindred spirit as Luca, Potions class was beginning to mean so much more.

Luca's bead had changed colour; she knew that, of course, but with all the excitement of intermingling Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students, Alicia hadn't yet caught up with the other two contestants. Georgina had been busy fraternising with the Durmstrang students; the Slytherins had completely consumed them, snubbing all attempts for the Durmstrang guests to interact with any of the other Houses, and Georgina, in particular, revelled in the fresh attention from the tall, dark and surly males, thoroughly enjoying herself. The Durmstrang visitors were all male, except for one token wallflower of a witch, and now they'd been given opportunity, they were quite skilled at flirting.

Penelope's free time had been spent chatting with the Beauxbatons boys and girls, who had chosen to sit at the Ravenclaw table for their meals. The Beauxbatons students always seemed to congregate around the Ravenclaws, apparently intent on showing off their magical skilfulness. Alicia had often seen Penelope surrounded by a flock of blue-clad Beauxbatons students, appearing flattered by their myriad questions and requests. There was no doubt in Alicia's mind that the attention had stroked Penelope's ego, and she had responded by voluntarily giving the foreign students tours and lectures on all things Hogwarts.

Well, she needs all the boosts and distractions she can get – anything other than thinking about Percy, decided Alicia, when seeing Penelope occupied with Beauxbatons students. Good for her!

Alicia headed out of the castle, tucking her broomstick under her arm and putting on her Quidditch gloves. Professor McGonagall had reserved a slot on the Quidditch pitch for each Gryffindor team member – their own private hour for individual exercising. Today was Alicia's allocated time, and she was determined to focus on her technique for the Hawkshead Attacking Formation, a strategic defence position for Chasers, especially useful against Slytherins who were well known for their dirty tactics and fierce formations. Usually, Alicia loved Friday mornings; it was her private time to forget about everything except her vital role in Quidditch, which none could take away from her, and just be one with the sky and her broomstick.

But this morning, trekking down along the grounds, Alicia frowned, unable to stop brooding over how she might gain Snape's praise – this afternoon was her last Potions class of the week – her last chance for the first task. She meandered slowly across the grass, ruminating... It all depends on which potion will be assigned in today's lesson...

Alicia inhaled the sweet morning air and continued onward, speculating on the upcoming lesson. First of all, I'll make sure I'm nowhere near that wally, Jared, so if his cauldron explodes again – no, wait, better to be near him, I can intervene or be prepared to jump in and save him again, like Luca, or – she stopped, disgusted with herself. What is wrong with me? I sound like a Slytherin wanting to turn someone's misfortune to my advantage. Arggh! I'm getting too stressed about this...

She arrived at the Quidditch pitch. Some physical relief is just what I need...

Decisively putting aside the memory of the exploding cauldron which had prevented her from winning Snape's praise, she mounted her broomstick, determined to demonstrate Chaser manoeuvres of which any Holyhead Harpies player would be envious.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Alicia forgot all about the tournament, forgot about her Potions lesson, forgot about everything, until it was just her, the turf and the sky. She flew upward, soaring, forgetting all her worries. In that second, flying for pleasure was her greatest treasure...

"Severus!"

Snape halted in the Entrance Hall, wincing as he recognised the voice addressing him. Gritting his teeth, he braced himself for the inevitable and slowly turned to face the undesirable presence.

"Karkaroff?"

But Karkaroff was not alone. Severus's eyes darted to the figure beside Igor; it was his young protégé, Viktor Krum. Ever since the arrival of the Durmstrang Institute, Severus had avoided Karkaroff. Scowling, Severus waited, curious as to why Karkaroff was approaching him so assuredly in the broad morning light, in the midst of the Entrance Hall hubbub. Of course, the perfect time to catch me, he grimly noted. For it was just after breakfast; the students, having finished their morning meals, were hurrying and scurrying to and fro in the hallways.

In the hustle and bustle, the two estranged acquaintances gazed pensively at each other. Karkaroff was the first to break the silence.

"Of course, you know our Durmstrang champion," he bragged, his yellow teeth showing.

Again, Severus glanced quickly at Krum and back to Karkaroff.

"I know of him," pointed out Severus, unimpressed.

Krum shifted his weight to lean on his broomstick, enabling himself to slouch more as he frowned, confused at the uncomfortable tension between his Headmaster and the standoffish Hogwarts professor.

Karkaroff gave a forced smile. "Well then," he intoned unctuously, "besides being Durmstrang's Triwizard champion, you know he is also a world-class Quidditch player. Viktor is in dire need of a proper, rigorous physical workout; as such, we are in need of Hogwarts' Quidditch facilities."

"And what has this even remotely to do with me, Professor Karkaroff?"

"I understand that you are free at the moment; you can show us around the pitch. Viktor may get his workout, and you and I, old friend, can catch up on things – old times, yes?"

Karkaroff's attempt to get him alone provoked Severus's belligerency. Now wasn't the time or place to talk about 'old times'. Moreover, he had nothing to say to Igor – nothing that hadn't already been said many dark years ago.

Severus knew Karkaroff had named him as a Death Eater at the Wizengamot trials; Karkaroff had hoped to secure his own freedom, or at least escape incarceration with the gluttonous Dementors waiting to exact retribution.

Even though Severus understood why Igor had betrayed him, Karkaroff's spineless exploitation of the Dark Lord's inner circle still left a bitter taste in Severus's mouth. How dare he? Even now, the question resounded irrationally through the dark caverns of Severus's mind, haunting him with the question, Would I have done the same?

"No."

Karkaroff's face fell in disappointment. "It would be wise, my old friend, if we did catch up on matters as soon as possible," insisted Karkaroff.

"I don't know to whom you've enquired of my schedule; however, you have been misinformed. Unlike you, I am needed elsewhere. May I suggest that you inform Dumbledore of your needs, I'm sure..."

"He is precisely who I asked." Karkaroff's cold smile broadened. "And Albus has assured me that you are available and at leisure to assist me."

"You'll discover, as with many things, Dumbledore is mistaken."

Krum's thick black eyebrows clustered together, and his eyes darted between the Hogwarts professor and his Headmaster, realising that Quidditch practise was not the reason for their confrontation.

"Is he?" challenged Karkaroff. "Perhaps we should consult him together. We can talk on the way."

"Spinnet!"

Alicia stopped in her tracks, catching her breath. It was Professor Snape. She hesitated for a split second – she was running late, having lost track of time in the physical abandonment of flying, and was hurrying to change her practise robes and attend McGonagall's Transfiguration class. Even though her Head of House had given Alicia special permission for Quidditch training, it wouldn't do if Alicia were late; McGonagall would not tolerate tardiness and made no exceptions.

Maybe I can pretend I didn't hear...

"Miss Spinnet, come here!"

She groaned to herself, suddenly more self-conscious than usual. Oh, he's going to see me all hot and sweaty; he must think this is all I do in my free time... Well, it is all I do in my spare time... There was nothing like a good workout on a broomstick to get Alicia's adrenaline going, and now her endorphins rushed straight to her erogenous zone. Hmmn, maybe he'd like me all hot and sweaty...

Dodging scurrying students, confused, but definitely intrigued, Alicia crossed over to the beckoning figure of her Potions master. What could Professor Snape possibly want? Potions isn't until two o'clock!

"Sir?" she said shakily.

The morning light lit Snape's lean, chiselled features, accentuating his distinguished frame. Curtains of long hair crowned his sculpted form, his black attire flowing breathtakingly down his tall body. God, he's so 'crisp', so contained, so unconventionally alluring... She looked up to meet his eyes, but was unable to hold his intense gaze. Alicia looked away, bashfully focusing on a crack on the stone floor.

Snape said nothing, but after a second of peering at her, he gave a superior smirk and stepped back, turning to speak to the two people behind him.

Alicia gasped as she recognised the looming, tall but thin Durmstrang Headmaster. However, even more impressive was Durmstrang's golden boy.

"Viktor Krum!" Alicia squeaked.

Snape frowned. Typical, he thought.

Ignoring her reaction, Severus informed Karkaroff, "As I told you, I'm unavailable. However, may I offer one of Hogwarts' finest Quidditch players to assist with your immediate needs? I present, Miss Alicia Spinnet."

Alicia froze in delirious shock. I couldn't have heard him right...

"A Qvidditch player? But, she is a girl!" Viktor blurted.

Snape raised a curious eyebrow at the renowned Bulgarian. "Yes, Mr Krum, you are quite correct in your observation. She is indeed a girl."

Viktor blustered, "Girls do not play Qvidditch!"

The outrageous remark caused the Gryffindor Chaser to see red. "What?" Alicia exclaimed, forgetting to whom she was speaking. "Since when do women not play Quidditch?" She bristled with anger; the international star had suddenly transformed in her eyes to an even lower worm than that nasty weasel, Draco Malfoy.

"Since – alvays!" rebuked the famous, slouching Seeker.

"You're... That's, that's ridiculous!" sputtered Alicia.

"Girls haf nothing to do vith Qvidditch," repeated Krum stubbornly.

Karkaroff appeared quite pleased with his protégé, spouting off his indoctrinated propaganda.

"Maybe in your part of the world," insinuated Alicia, unable to restrain herself. "But in England – where Quidditch originated – many rules and customs were invented by witches..."

"Vat? Everyone knows that Sweden's annual broom race, vich dates back to tenth century, is still the vorld's biggest celebration of the beginnings of Qvidditch – it vas not in England..."

"Gunhilda Kneen of Yorkshire?" Alicia interjected, her voice climbing higher and louder. "In the twelfth century, she was the first recorded Catcher, or what's known nowadays as a Chaser. And there's also Elfrida Clagg of the Wizard's Council; she made the Golden Snigget a protected species and outlawed its ritual killing in Quidditch, leading to the Golden Snitch being invented by Bowman Wright, all right a wizard , but an English wizard..."

"Excuse me," Krum cut in, "but the eleventh-century painting of Gunther the Violent shows that the ancient German game Stichstock is the true precursor of vat is now Qvidditch."

"You – you're outrageous!" Alicia suddenly implored, "Professor Snape?"

All turned to Snape's taciturn persona for the final verdict.

In the uncomfortable silence which followed, Alicia tried to regulate her racing heart by breathing deeply. She was not going to be belittled by a Durmstrang he-man, no matter who he was.

A neutral suggestion was offered by the Head of Slytherin. "Perhaps you and Mr Krum, with Professor Karkaroff as chaperone, could continue this enlightening debate whilst escorting them around the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch? Think of it as an opportunity to inform them of England's – as well as witches' – contributions to the noble sport, Miss Spinnet."

Tightening her grip on her broomstick, Alicia stubbornly refused to give consent by not responding.

"You are the brightest of your lot," Snape subtly coerced. Not that that's saying much, he wanted to add, but didn't. "One would think that you'd be proud, honoured even, for an opportunity to show Hogwarts in its best light, in the interests of international magical cooperation, Miss Spinnet?"

Barely coherent from the plenitude of compliments, Alicia quietly remarked, "With all due respect, Professor Snape, I think Mr Krum would be more comfortable with a male player; he doesn't seem capable of respecting that I'm a Chaser."

Unexpectedly, with an apologetic tinge, Viktor piped out, "But you must understand... Ve haff no girls playing Qvidditch at Durmstrang."

"Why not?" demanded Alicia.

Krum was at a loss. His surly look became pronounced as he looked to his Headmaster for an answer.

Karkaroff's forced smile did not extend to his eyes, which were cold and shrewd. "My girl..." he started, condescendingly.

"I'm not your girl!" Alicia blurted.

Already riled by Krum's outrageous claims, Alicia's aversion to Karkaroff intensified. Durmstrang was synonymous with chauvinism and discrimination; Muggle-borns were not admitted into the school, girls were not allowed to play Quidditch, and Alicia had noticed that females were generally disregarded: the solitary Durmstrang witch always seemed miserable at the Slytherin table, ignored by her male counterparts. Undoubtedly the poor girl had been brought along as part of some 'token' gesture and that made Alicia's blood boil. "My name is Spinnet – Alicia Spinnet, Professor Karkaroff!"

Karkaroff's smooth demeanour flinched, shocked at the girl's brazen impertinence.

However, Viktor's sullen expression changed to one of inquisitiveness and appreciation – never in his life had he witnessed a witch speaking to his Headmaster as this one did.

"That will do, Miss Spinnet," remarked Snape; however, he didn't further reprimand her, having secretly enjoyed her little display of outraged injustice against the world.

But Karkaroff wasn't about to let her brazenness go without further reprove.

"We don't have female Quidditch players, Miss Spinnet," he said, with a sneering smile, "because witches are the weaker sex." Karkaroff's smile reached his eyes, making his beady eyes more grotesque. "Witches are physically, mentally, and magically inferior."

Alicia mouthed dropped open at his blatant statement.

"That will do, Professor Karkaroff," Severus remarked coolly. He wasn't about to allow Igor to continue his sexist Death Eater diatribe.

"What, Snape? Surely your sentiments, your principles, are the same as mine?" Karkaroff had a strange, sinister glint in his eyes. "After all, there are no females on Slytherin's Quidditch team." Igor's smile broadened once again, leering at Alicia.

Severus inhaled slowly. He had only hoped to pawn Karkaroff and Krum onto the first Quidditch player he spotted. He hadn't wanted an antagonistic dispute of the sexes to break out, and he certainly wished to ignore the inference that he was, in any way, the same as Karkaroff. The Dark Mark branded into his left arm was enough of a reminder as it was.

Ever since he'd lost Lily to the 'big Quidditch hero', James Potter, Quidditch had held little interest for Snape. But then he became Head of Slytherin House, and he came to view the wizarding sport as an important point-scorer. Snape was determined to win the House Cup and prove Slytherin's worth. So, were his principles the same as Karkaroff's? He could not deny that he had once been guilty of the same weaknesses...

As he remembered his resolution when he became Head of Slytherin, Snape hated himself. Yes, he was like Igor: No females allowed; the fewer around him, the better – minimise the pain... He had silently vowed he would make his Slytherin team brutal, unsportsmanlike and infamous; the antithesis of everything James Potter supposedly symbolised. Slytherin's underhand tactics made the other Houses wary, dreading matches against the team in green and silver, and Slytherin became a true nemesis; there had never been a game without injuries, penalties and ill-will abound.

Standing across from him, Alicia couldn't believe what she had just heard. She was well aware that Slytherin were an all-male team, but she'd never given the matter much thought. Meanwhile, Krum looked at Alicia with the most reverent gaze, now keenly curious.

It was Snape's turn to assert himself. "If Slytherin had, then Miss Spinnet would be our number-one Chaser, without a doubt. Reiterating myself yet again, I daresay she is the ideal guide for your Quidditch needs; she is abundantly knowledgeable in all things Quidditch, and impudently fearless of you, Karkaroff, which is worth all the gold in Gringotts; for though you may not value the assets of her gender, Igor, I do believe Mr Krum does."

Karkaroff swerved, catching Krum gazing appreciatively at Alicia.

With eyes wide open, Alicia gave her full attention to Professor Snape. He's said that I'm ideal, the brightest, the finest Quidditch player... Almost in a trance, completely mesmerised by all of Snape's descriptions, Alicia was at his mercy; she'd agree to do anything he wished.

"I have no doubt that you're in the best hands, Karkaroff." Snape locked eyes with Alicia. "I'm sure you'll make Hogwarts proud, Miss Spinnet, and see to Mr Krum's needs?"

Alicia put her differences to one side, hoping to prove to Professor Snape that she was indeed bigger and better than her emotions and brave enough to stand up to anyone. She would make Professor Snape proud. And Snape would praise her efforts – this was an unexpected opportunity – a final chance to gain his praise in Potions class. If she could make it last until this afternoon, and brew a correctly-made potion, she could almost hear him saying "Along with your Quidditch playing, your potions abilities are the finest – I'm quite impressed by you, Miss Spinnet – I really, truly am..." And so the first task would be accomplished, and her bead would finally change colour... Invigorated and hopeful, Alicia felt a thrill of energy course through her.

"Absolutely, sir! I'm agreeable, if Mr Krum and Professor Karkaroff are, that is." To seal the deal, Alicia forced herself to address Karkaroff, "I'm sorry if I've said anything to offend; it's not my intention – I'm just a very passionate, very proud, British, female, Quidditch player."

Eagerly, Viktor took a lively step forward and actually clicked his heels while offering his free arm to her, "I vould be most honoured, Miss Spinnet."

Alicia took Krum's arm awkwardly and started to guide him towards the open doorway. Suddenly, she gasped. "Professor McGonagall!"

Snape looked around. "Where?"

"No, sir – I have Transfiguration! Professor McGonagall's expecting me; I'm already very late. She'll deduct points!"

Seeing his final chance, Karkaroff insisted, "It'd be prudent to not force the girl to miss her class, Severus."

"Your concern is noted, Miss Spinnet," assured Severus. "I'll take care of Professor McGonagall for you."

Enthusiastically, Viktor followed Alicia outside, heading for the Quidditch pitch. "So, you are on Gryffindor team? Vat is it like vith so much support for sports as vell as studies? Ve haf very little time..." Krum and Alicia's chatter faded as they walked further away.

Karkaroff took one step towards Snape, stopping him from gliding away, and whispered, "Very well, Severus, but you won't slip away from me next time." He then turned quickly to catch up with his wonder-boy's new companion.

Severus watched Karkaroff scurry away. For a few seconds, he stood deliberating something before proceeding directly to Dumbledore's office.

"I urgently request that you not encourage Karkaroff, and refrain from giving him reason to approach me. I have students to teach, Headmaster, and my image to maintain."

Dumbledore softly chuckled. "Yes, Severus, but never fear, your image is quite intact."

"This is no laughing matter, Headmaster. Karkaroff is insufferable: constantly hounding and stalking me. And whilst we're on the subject, what on earth possessed you to hire Moody for the Dark Arts post? The man is utterly mad!"

The hinges of the Headmaster's office door creaked, and the distinct lilt of a commanding brogue called out, "Hold your horses, Severus, and give an old cripple a second to meet you face to face!" The voice was followed by a steady clump, clump, clumping sound.

Moody! He must have had a Silencing Charm around him! thought Severus, grimacing. The sneaky blackguard...

"I prefer attacks face-to-face, verbal or physical," continued Mad-Eye Moody, now in full view, limping heavily towards them, "rather than behind my back. Surely you understand, Snape? An Auror's old habits... They die hard, don't they? Old habits, that is."

Severus remained silent, watching Moody's roly-poly, deformed lump of a body come to a halt. Moody's lopsided leer caused Severus's stomach to lurch.

Mad-Eye softly addressed him, "Now, what do you have to say to me wee face?"

Severus blinked, tongue-tied, but not by magic.

"Well, Snape?" Moody's tongue darted out like a lizard, licking his lips. "I believe you used the word 'mad'? I'm flattered..."

Severus weighed up the possible consequences of responding. The only thing to do is to excuse myself, he thought. Turning to Dumbledore, he said, "I shall be late for my class. Headmaster, if you'll excuse me?"

Severus turned to leave, only to find Moody blocking his path. "Moody, if you will?"

Alastor shuffled slowly to allow him passage, saying, "By all means. You're a free man, Snape. Always have been, haven't you? Free to come and go wherever you please... Foot-light and fancy-free, as ever, aren't you?"

Severus clenched his teeth, wishing to appear unruffled by the goading Auror. Silently, he walked out of Headmaster's office, hoping his day would soon improve.

"I can't believe it!"

"But it's true, Luca! I swear it!" insisted Alicia, earnestly.

Luca sighed, and then paused to stir the ingredients in his cauldron ten times anti-clockwise, a little disgruntled that the liquid wasn't as deep a purple as it should be. "Alicia, it just doesn't sound like him."

"I know, not usually, but it was an unusual situation!" Alicia's excitement exuded like the juice from the Sopohorous bean which she was crushing over her cauldron. "Isn't it true that in extreme circumstances, a person's hidden feelings can be revealed?"

Using an Italian term of endearment, Luca delicately pointed out, "Ciccia, you're not making sense. Whether a man is straight or gay, a compliment may not always mean what you think it means." He glanced doubtfully at Professor Snape, who was sitting at behind his desk, wearing a particularly grey, morose expression.

"Oh, Luca, you weren't there," laughed Alicia, high as a kite from lecturing Karkaroff about witches in Quidditch history until he was red in the face. Krum had been thoroughly captivated, Karkaroff infuriated, and it had turned out to be a wonderful morning. She couldn't wait to tell Professor Snape how successful she'd been; she just had to catch his attention at the right time. When I've finished my potion – Luca and I can be the last, and then Luca'll see what Snape really thinks of me!

Alicia was delighted that the Draught of Living Death brewing in her cauldron was releasing blue steam, increasing her confidence further. "You didn't see how proud he was; he told Karkaroff and Krum that I was the finest Quidditch player, the brightest, a witch of the highest calibre." She giggled. "Me!"

Luca glanced again at the uncharacteristically static figure of their Potions master; he appeared busy, quietly looking through parchments, but the Professor's eyes didn't seem to be moving. Luca frowned. Snape usually walked around, lurching over students' backs, startling those he knew he could unnerve and reprimanding others at the slightest opportunity. Luca had an odd feeling which he couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Ciccia, look, we're talking about Snape..." Luca didn't want to hurt her feelings, nor did he want Alicia to get hurt by Snape. Alicia was naive about men, but their Potions master had a lethal edge that could be detrimental to anyone's self-esteem. He liked seeing Alicia so euphoric and sure of herself, but something definitely didn't feel right... "I don't know; maybe you shouldn't push it, Alicia. Don't get into a tizzy, but... I want you to take this the right way: you're acting like a girly-girl." He teased her, hoping a lighter approach might convince her to think things over. Before Alicia could protest, he continued, "I mean, you're sounding idealistic, romantic, you know, like a Gryffindor – it may be blinding you to..."

"No, Luca, I'll prove it to you! Just wait – today's my lucky day!" She jiggled her bracelet upward. "Just on time! You see, even my potion is agreeing – everything's going perfectly!"

Luca couldn't help himself; Alicia's happiness was infectious, and he found himself laughing softly at her silly giddiness. Alicia had a great smile and warm laughter; she was passionately loyal and recklessly brave; some guy was going to be bloody lucky to have her one day... if he were straight – che bella fortuna – but Luca wasn't, which was actually a good thing; they were fortunate to have each other, they could relate and share their experiences of men, or the lack of in Alicia's case. Luca was beginning to feel like her brother, needing to guide her, wanting to protect her.

"Look at the lovely lavender colour my potion is becoming. Now it just needs to turn clear." In her euphoric state, luck was actually on her side. Alicia had inadvertently crushed her sliced Sopophorous bean more vigorously than stated, producing abundant juice to the potion's benefit. Her improvised anticlockwise stirs, with a clockwise stir every seventh turn, blended nicely towards a perfectly-brewed potion.

Suddenly, there was an unusual sound echoing around the dungeon: a heavy, repeating thud. All eyes turned, and the cause was soon revealed; Professor Moody had entered the Potions classroom. His unexpected arrival caused mordant apprehension amongst the students; when placed in close quarters, the two Hogwarts professors shared combustible chemistry, and the air filled with unspoken, breathless speculation.

Mad-Eye Moody clumped along, heading for Snape's desk.

"And to what do I owe this inappropriate visit in the middle of my lesson?" softly enquired the Potions master.

"All in a day's work, Professor Snape, all in a day's work," quipped Mad-Eye.

"I don't see what my classroom has to do with your work, Moody." Giving a heavy look around the room, Snape growled at his students. "Back to your potions!"

One magical and one real eye bored relentlessly into Snape. "No, I wouldn't imagine you would, would you? But then, that's for me to know and you to find out, see?"

"I doubt that."

"I don't," snarled Moody.

Baneful silence ensued, broken only by the chopping of knives and the bubbling of cauldrons.

"You see," Moody eventually continued, "it's remarkable, the things that appear and disappear when an Auror is around."

Snape's eyes glittered dangerously. "Indeed?"

"It's truly wondrous, as well, the things which can reappear," Moody commented portentously. "Truly amazing... Years and years go by, then, faster than you can say 'Dementor', 'it' resurfaces. The unspeakable!" The Auror grimaced a little bit.

Severus rose calmly, and ever so quietly, warned, "There are students requiring my attention. Perhaps you can tell me what you want, or leave!"

"If I didn't know you better, I'd be offended; but it takes one to know one..." Moody's tongue flitted out, darting around. "Who would've thought you'd be a defender and caretaker, protecting and guiding these young minds? Your reputation doesn't do you justice, does it?" Moody had a good gander around the dungeon. "It's now my job to train impressionable young minds to defend themselves, know how to attack, and think like a Dark wizard."

Exasperated and a little bit unnerved, Snape lashed out, "Is it, Moody? Teaching fourth-years the Unforgivable Curses? Using the Imperius Curse on them is in your job description?"

As Moody's real eye grew wide, his tongue darted out more rapidly than usual, and he whispered to evade curious ears, "You yourself were quite young when you had not only a theoretical knowledge, but practical experience of the Unforgivables. Remember Mulciber?"

Severus stared at Moody as if petrified into stone.

"My memory usually serves me correctly. Do you remember? Oh, yes, I can see that you do. You must understand something, Snape: I don't ever forget. Nor do I forgive. Nor do I trust. Anyone. Ever. I'm not Dumbledore."

Severus's eyes narrowed, and he remarked, "No... You are not Dumbledore."

"Good," Moody said, his voice returning to normal volume. "Now we've cleared that up, if you'll be so kind as to move aside and open your charmed-sealed drawers and cabinets for me; I'd be mighty grateful."

Severus knew there was only one way Moody could know his cabinets were charmed-sealed; evidently, he had tried to open them already and had been unsuccessful.

Thoroughly peeved, Severus informed him, "You should come back later, when there aren't any students... in harm's way."

"Apparently, you weren't listening closely enough. Things have a habit of disappearing from where before they existed. Now, do oblige me, or I'll force you to open them, one way or another." Mad-Eye's lopsided leer at Snape twitched. "Auror's privilege, you understand."

"Don't you dare threaten to Imperius me, Moody!" hissed Severus. "You'll regret it!"

"Now, now, don't get your feathers in a ruffle – I can blast them open, all good and well, but you'll have shrapnel flying about if I do that in front of the kiddies here, not to mention the damage to the cupboard contents... and I know you wouldn't like that, your precious ingredients harmed in any way, would you, Snape? One way or another, they have to be opened. I'm not leaving until it's done. It's your choice – you or me."

Snape's face had turned a pale ash colour. Staring at Mad-Eye, he didn't speak; but then, with a swift turn and flick of his wrist, several drawers and cabinet doors magically opened.

"Think of this as a kind of emergency inventory, all for the greater good, you understand that, Professor Snape, don't you?" Moody's magical eye stayed on Severus as he lumbered across the classroom, and he proceeded to open each drawer and cabinet and plundered the contents. A few minutes later, the Auror appeared satisfied with the outcome of his search, and he gruffly announced, "Your cooperation has been duly noted. Enquiring minds'll know that you've been quite accommodating and cooperative. Always keep them guessing, eh, Snape? Clever strategy – but you always were a clever one, eh? Yes, just as you've always been."

With one last leer, Moody limped out of the classroom.

Severus stood deathly-still until the Auror left the room. Then in a flash, he swirled around and called out, "Potions! Bring them to me, one by one!"

The students snapped out of their trance and slowly brought their samples to be inspected. Alicia and Luca held back to be the last.

When Snape tersely snatched Luca's sample, he poured the contents into a small cauldron. He only took a second to sniff and assess it before vanishing the substance, commenting, "Passable, but not exceptional. Next!"

With overflowing optimism, Alicia bounded forward and with flourish offered Professor Snape her phial.

Noting the radiant look on Miss Spinnet's face, as well as the clarity of the liquid she presented, Snape poured the solution into the cauldron. This time, he summoned a small dropper and suctioned a sample of Alicia's potion. He then placed the dropper in a little bottle, simultaneously releasing the fluid and sealing the vessel closed. He shook the contents rapidly, holding it up to a candle's light. Snape gave Alicia a dubious look before releasing the sample into the testing cauldron.

During Snape's prolonged purity testing, Alicia impulsively initiated, "Professor Snape, the most wonderful thing happened today after we arrived at the Quidditch pitch!"

She paused to allow Snape to comment, but his gaze was fixed on the potion phial, so Alicia continued, "Sir, you know how Professor Karkaroff was quite ignorant of English Quidditch history?"

Again, Alicia waited. Again, there was no comment. "And also how he was unaware of witches' importance in our history? Well, you'll be proud of me, sir; I informed him all about Agatha Chubb, the expert on ancient wizarding artefacts, and also Madam Rabbott, Gertie Keddie, and Daisy Pennifold – the witch that the 'Pennifold Quaffle' was named after..."

Suddenly, Snape's head whipped up.

"You silly girl," hissed Snape with as much condescending venom as he could muster. "Do you really believe that throwing the remnants of a dead animal through hoops the size of castle doors is even remotely significant, compared to the important lessons taught in my classroom?"

Alicia blanched, shocked and fearful of the Potions master's fierce demeanour.

Luca could only stare in dismay, knowing his instincts about Alicia's misinterpretation of Snape had been spot-on.

"Well, Miss Spinnet, do you?" hissed Snape. "It seems, after five years in my class, your little Gryffindor brain remains incapable of recognising the virtues of wisdom. Perhaps your thick skull has been hit by one too many Bludgers?"

The young woman stood in chastised silence, and Snape continued, "If I had wished to know these titbits of Quidditch nonsense, I would have asked to hear them. Suffice it to say, you'd be waiting a very long time for such an enquiry. It takes brains over brawn, Miss Spinnet – any Slytherin knows that – don't dare bother me with your Quidditch dribble ever again! Now take this sorry excuse for a potion and pour it down the sewage drain before it eats into the cauldron lining."

Alicia remained staring at the dungeon floor, devastated.

Luca summoned enough nerve to step forward and peer into the testing cauldron, and he saw there was nothing wrong with her potion; Snape was simply being vindictive in the extreme. Luca also knew that pouring the contents down the drain would tranquilise every living thing in the Black Lake.

Luca pulled his wand out of his back pocket and Vanished the potion.

Snape sneered as the young man helped the comatose Alicia gather her things and leave the dungeon.

At the end of her Potions lesson, the first quartz bead on Alicia's bracelet was as opaque as ever.

Rusty hinges creaked on the portrait of Percival Pratt as it swung open into the small, dimly lit Boathouse. The poet was wearing a white nightshirt, and the candle at his desk illuminated his drowsy features. Quickly realising what the late-night meeting signified, the portrait shook himself to full alertness.

"Finally, you two! It's almost midnight!" remarked Luca.

Penelope entered first, followed by Alicia. The Ravenclaw Prefect looked tersely at Luca and Georgina.

"This hasn't been the easiest manoeuvre to accomplish," said Penelope. "Sneaking Alicia here after the night-time curfew – just for the record, it goes against all my principles..."

"Save it, Penelope – Prefects' privilege! I mean, what's the point of having power if we can't flex our muscles every now and then?"

"I think you mean bend the rules, Georgina – and that's a Slytherin argument, not a Prefect one."

"Lighten up, Penny, you're sounding like Percy."

At this comment, Penelope frowned.

"And, need I remind you, you've been a willing participant – once a Four-House champion there's no reneging," Georgina pointed out. "Unless you want to forfeit and give up already..."

"It doesn't matter at this point," jumped in Alicia. "It's beyond any of our control – look at the time!"

There was a dull echo of a distant clock tolling out the strokes of midnight – the witching hour had arrived. The four champions gasped in unison as an emanating light on each one's bracelet let forth, the Protean Charm activating a soft wispy glow from the first bead. They all stared at their bracelets, transfixed. Several seconds passed until, with a poof and final crackle, the luminous light faded.

Each champion examined their beads, each one reacting differently.

Alicia was not surprised. Her bead was as opaque as ever, meaning she was placed last in the first task. With stubborn resolve, she bit her lip, not wanting to show her down-hearted emotions or let the painful memory of the Potions master's fierce demeanour discourage her from participating further. I will not be defeated. I'm sure to win the task of getting detention. This thought gave her a renewed burst of hope.

"I don't understand – Snape praised me! He praised me!" complained Georgina, shocked at the unaltered light-green colour of her bead. "Why hasn't mine changed? Maybe there's something wrong with the charm?"

"No, there's nothing wrong with the charm," cut in Penelope. "Look at mine; it's changed colour!"

All turned to her, staring at the silver bracelet on her wrist.

"It's gone even darker!" squealed Penelope in delight. "Oh my God! I've won, I've won! Snape's praise of me was superior to yours, Georgina!"

"That can't be, I'm Slytherin – I used his own instructions! How could I not have won? My potion was perfect!"

"But your understanding of it was not," reasoned Penelope. "Snape recognised my true comprehension of the ingredients' properties... He was impressed by my intelligence and aptitude. That must be why my bead has turned black."

"No, it's midnight blue, Penny – almost black," pointed out Alicia awkwardly. "Look – look at Luca's!"

They turned to a quiet, immobile Luca, blinking with disbelief at his charmed bracelet. The three young witches' mouths dropped open in awe. Luca's first bead was blacker than the midnight sky: as black as their Potions professor's eyes.

"I – I don't understand... I mean... It's unbelievable," whispered Luca. "I've won the first task!"

"That's not fair! You didn't even finish your potion," grumbled Georgina.

"It's more than fair," remarked Alicia. "Luca saved mine and Jared's lives. Perhaps the charm's criteria for Snape's praise are based on something more than his words. Maybe it's about the nature of the actions and how genuinely impressed Snape was... or how sincerely he gave his praise."

Penelope was perplexed, unable to understand why her inventive potion-making skills had not been enough to secure the first task. "This doesn't make sense," she complained. "Professor Snape values brains, not brawn!"

Georgina was also brooding. He admired my cunning; I could feel his admiration, and the results I got from it... She couldn't help but feel a tinge of betrayal from her Head of House, but she kept her opinions private.

Eventually, Penelope responded, "Perhaps Alicia's right... This Protean Charm seems to have a spirit of its own. I wish I'd known its criterion from the start."

"I still can't believe it," Luca repeated, an uncontrollable smile broadly spreading across his face.

"Congratulations, Luca!" Alicia was the first to forthrightly congratulate him. Then she added sheepishly, "And thanks for the other thing – you know – saving my life."

"Yes. Well done," chipped in Penelope, swallowing her sour grapes and rising from her reverie.

"All right, I can be as gracious as any of you – well done, kid!" Georgina smiled demurely.

Alicia was sitting closest to Luca and patted him on the back. He smiled at the three witches and self-consciously muttered, "Thanks."

"So, has the champion of the first task chosen what the other task is to be?" Georgina asked him. "We know we've got to get detention, but what about the other task, Luca. Have you decided yet?"

Luca appeared faintly embarrassed. "Um, yeah, I have."

"Well?" Georgina prompted.

Luca was reticent. "I wanted to make it a bit trickier, you know, for it to be a real challenge..." He glanced apologetically at Alicia, knowing how her defeat in the first task would make this task seem hopeless.

"Out with it, Hufflepuff!" Georgina said, exasperated.

"Get Snape to smile," Luca said hesitantly. He cleared his throat and clarified, "The task will be to make Snape smile."

The Boathouse was completely quiet for a few moments, save for the lapping of the waves at the harbour walls. Luca watched the witches' faces carefully as each one digested the news.

Penelope's eyes were wide. Alicia's mouth had dropped open slightly.

Georgina sighed heavily and sat back against the wall. "Now, that's going to be hard," she remarked, with a degree of reverence in her voice.

"More like impossible." Alicia tried hard not to sulk.

"No," Penelope considered, "it can't be. I've seen him smile before. Granted, it's usually been a smirk of schadenfreude... I bet that Protean Charm is going to want a genuine smile from Snape."

"Like I said," said Alicia, pouting, "impossible!"

"Well," Georgina said, sitting up straight, "it takes a Slytherin to know how to make Snape truly smile."

At this Penelope sighed. "You have a point; however, who knows what could happen? Look at the first task: Snape's full of surprises! Look at Luca, he's a Hufflepuff..."

"If a Hufflepuff can win, then there's possibility for all," teased Georgina.

"Thanks for that," remarked Luca, basking in happiness from being the first task champion.

"I think Luca's suggestion should be our next task," Penelope said. "It makes more sense to make Snape smile before our quest for detention."

Georgina nodded her agreement. Luca grinned.

Alicia sat on the Boathouse bench, quietly observing her classmates. Then, one by one, Luca, Penelope and Georgina noticed her withdrawn nature. Penelope put an arm around her shoulder. "Better luck next time, maybe?"

"I doubt that very much," replied Alicia, trying to keep a stiff upper lip. "But there's always the third task – getting detention; I'm a sure shoo-in for that. Just have to endure making it to the spring."

"True enough." Georgina smirked. "There's hope for us all."

Pensively, Penelope pondered aloud, "I wonder how a Slytherin Prefect might get detention?"

"I'll have to be a very bad girl, Penny, that's how," smiled Georgina coquettishly. "I already have a few ideas... There's plenty of time to think about which one will be, um, most effective."

"Oh, yeah! Ditto on that," agreed Luca, his brown eyes sparkling.

"Well then, here's to the second task! To make Snape smile!" revved Georgina.

Alicia couldn't help groan at how ludicrous and unattainable the prospect of this task was for her.

Penelope noticed the Gryffindor's discomfort. "There's still the first Triwizard task tomorrow, and then the Yule Ball to look forward to, Alicia. Just imagine, Professor Snape in dress-robes, swirling on the dance floor!"

Georgina scoffed. "That man does not dance!"

"How do you know?" Penelope asked.

"Just do," Georgina replied bullishly.

"Maybe I can make Snape smile at the ball, then, with my legendary dance-floor moves," Luca said, grinning broadly.

"The second task doesn't start until the first day back after Christmas, Luca," Penelope reminded him in customary Ravenclaw fashion.

"All right then, I'll get our winner safely back to Hufflepuff House, using Prefects' privileges, if needed," announced Georgina.

"And I'll take care of our brave but discouraged little Gryffindor, here," teased Penelope gently, half-helping Alicia up from the bench.

Luca and Georgina, along with Penny, couldn't help but be amused by Alicia's poorly-concealed dismay.

"Ciccia, you up to putting a smile on Snape's face?" joked Luca, putting his arm around Alicia's shoulders and giving her a playful squeeze.

"Only in my dreams," said Alicia softly, smiling.

"In all of our dreams," agreed Luca.

"That's the spirit!" rallied Penelope good-naturedly.

"Gotta hand it to you, Gryffindor; you've a lot of chutzpah." Georgina grinned. "And you, lucky Hufflepuff, follow me!"

"I just hope Filch and Mrs Norris aren't out and about tonight," Penelope said as they approached the portal.

"Nothing that a good Confundus Charm can't fix," suggested Georgina. Seeing the looks on everyone's faces, she added, "Just a suggestion. Come on, everyone. I'll light the way."

Led by Georgina's lamp, the four champions lit their wands with a Lumos Charm and walked towards Percival Pratt's portrait. The poet was scribbling furiously at his desk and looked up at the four champions as they approached. He seemed taken off-guard, and he raised his hand and cleared his throat theatrically.

"House colours of black and yellow

Win the first task for your sombre fellow

A loyal heart and feats most brave

Gain truest praise from our sullen knave."

Luca groaned in embarrassment whilst Alicia and Penelope sniggered.

"There you go, Luca!" Georgina teased, clapping him on the shoulder. "You wanted to know what the tournament's prize would be... It's a poem composed in your honour!"

Alicia covered her mouth to contain her giggles. Percival Pratt seemed a touch put-out by their underwhelmed reaction to his off-the-cuff creation.

"Are you going to let us through?" Penelope asked the portrait.

The poet folded his arms, and his pointed beard rose into the air. "Take time every day to rhyme what you say."

Penelope held her temper and bypassed the pedantic request by uttering the secret code required for passage. "This password is absurd."

The hidden passageway to Hogwarts opened, and the troop climbed out of the Boathouse to return to their dormitories, where each one would dream of Yule Ball partners and their second task to come: to make Snape smile.

---

Authors' Note:

Written by nagandsev with a poem by bluerain1984

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