Year Two: Inevitable by Chance

Year Two: Inevitable by Chance

Now was the time. It had come. Harry Potter was beginning his schooling at Hogwarts. Snape had known the event was out there; eventually it would be, of course. However, he found himself seething over it for most of the summer when he knew for certain. Snape wondered if young Potter looked like that arrogant little shit, James, or if he favored Lily, the Mudblood tart. Would Snape know him on sight? Or would he have to look for that famous scar? Cold comfort came from the fact that finally Snape could exact a small amount of revenge on at least the memory of James Potter by never letting up one iota on his son. Executing seven years of hard, unrelenting, driving pressure sounded like an exercise in ecstasy. Suddenly the upcoming year didn't seem so bad. He looked forward to it even.

Davindra Collins and her constant pestering from the year before hadn't entered his mind since he had bid her a hasty farewell on the last day of classes that summer. Tiring of the constant stare of those cool eyes and her presence like a nagging shadow around every corner, he had nearly shoved her out the door himself. It was as though a great calming dome of silence had finally descended upon his world again. He breathed freely for the first time in nearly nine months. Snape had sat in his cold, dark chambers and just listened to the stillness with the reassurance that it would not be broken by annoying students of any kind.

After a summer of isolation and much needed preparation for the upcoming year, Snape was also handed a special task by Dumbledore into which he was enlisted in order to help ensure the safe keeping of the Sorcerer's Stone. It was not a difficult spell to cast. It used more logic than complex potion making. Dumbledore didn't speak of the Dark Lord, but Snape knew that was who the Headmaster had in mind when he brought the stone to Hogwarts.

Snape's suspicions were strong, along with a certain gnawing in the pit of his stomach and a tingle on his arm. But he would wait and watch to see exactly what kind of trouble came from it. And he was expecting trouble.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

With all the distraction it was easy for him to be taken off guard when Demelza Collins herself appeared at his chamber door literally hours before the Hogwarts students began to arrive.

She appeared in a way similar to her granddaughter – silently. Snape simply turned and found her standing in the open doorway.

'What is with those women, anyway?' his thoughts snapped when he saw her.

But he couldn't deny the curious pleasure that his mind gave rise to at the idea of seeing his old Potions substitute again. She had been instrumental in the shaping of his abilities, not to mention the position he held now. If only she had stood behind his bid for Defense Against the Dark Arts position, he might actually have had that achievement as well.

"Madame Collins," he said with the best forced, though still pained, smile he could muster. "To what do I owe this great pleasure?"

Though it had been some time since he had seen her, she had changed little. Her age, either held off by good potions or simply good breeding, made her appear no older than she was when Snape was her granddaughter's age. Now, he could see much of Demelza in Davindra. Both had the same cool green eyes and placid expression, a bit of mirth around the corners of the mouth. Same was their stance of a straight spine and firm shoulders, but with a casual air towards the world. She, as did Davindra, made him slightly uncomfortable. They were so bold in such understated ways.

Madame Collins smiled wider and descended the stairs into his dungeon classroom, looking about, surveying the realm that had once been hers.

"Severus, so little has changed, including you."

There was even the same pattern in their speech and lilt to their voice.

"I would know you with my eyes closed. The same boy as before, just a bit taller... and darker." Her eyes darted back to him with a familiar coyness. "I suppose you are surprised to see me."

"It is quite a surprise, but a pleasing one none the less," Snape replied cautiously. He could never pass a lie through her and probably couldn't even now.

As if to answer his own thoughts, she turned to face him fully and chuckled.

"No, I'm sure it is not. But I felt it important to have a few words with you before my granddaughter arrived."

She continued to circle about the room as she spoke.

"We are both in your gratitude for the extra help you were willing to give her in her first year at Hogwarts. And I know it was a great imposition upon you."

"No, really...," he began but she stopped him with a flick of her hand.

"Remember, I knew you well, Severus, and I see little change. You would not like the intrusion. However, it was a great favor you did me... and Davi. You see, I adore my granddaughter. She is all I could have ever wanted out of my own children and more." Madame Collins closed the gap between them and stood in front of Snape, coolly looking up into his face.

"Her talent was evident from the beginning," he spoke. "I never mind helping such talent along when it is so deserved."

She seemed to weigh the truth in the statement and find it passing before she moved on.

"I have great hopes for Davi. The future will hold such things for her we can hardly imagine. I've known it since before she was born." She had begun her slow strolling again, but had stopped to look back at Snape. "Wouldn't you agree, Severus?"

Snape had suspected from the beginning that this was no ordinary visit, but now it was taking on a much more curious tone. The back of his neck prickled with anticipation, interest and dread.

"Whole heartedly. She is quite remarkable." He continued to play passive and to keep his exterior cool. He hid his hands behind his back to control the fidgeting fingers excitement gave him.

"Though I have done all I could for her from the moment she could hold a wand, Hogwarts is the best place for her now. I would like for you to continue in her extra studies," Madame Collins stated finally. "It is of utmost importance that she stays well ahead of her classmates, especially where potions are concerned. Unfortunately, I am unable to give her the attention she needs while she is here, although during the summer holiday she made astounding progress while under my guidance. It is now time for you to take over."

Snape held back a dramatic gag as he imagined another year of that insipid girl yapping at his heals.

"Madam Collins, I appreciate your expectations for your granddaughter, and indeed I believe she does possess talent that could one day equal yours." 'Tread carefully, Snape,' he told himself. "But my new year at Hogwarts is going to prove very taxing, and I cannot guarantee that I will have the extra time Davindra needs to truly gain the ground you would wish in her studies. Now, I'm always happy to answer..."

"Severus Snape," she interrupted sharply and strode again to place herself in front of him, though he had positioned himself in the end of the room furthest from her. "Have you forgotten all I did for you the many times I was your Potions professor? All the ways I supported your efforts and encouraged your talents no matter if they fitted into Hogwarts' rules or not?"

Snape began to reply, but again she cut him short, her voice falling to a harsh whisper.

"If I were to tell you that what you do now and how you help me and my kind will have a beneficial outcome for you for years to come, would that sway you?"

She stepped closer and intensified her glare. "What if I were to say that your help now could guarantee a future for us all? I know that your interest lies in a particular place, perhaps in the Defense Against the Dark Arts position? Perhaps in the Ministry itself?"

A darkness seeped through her as she spoke her last sentence to him. "Perhaps in a position neither of us should even speak of."

He had heard that she was a quiet supporter of the Dark Lord and had silently lent a hand to many deeds done before his demise. If this was a trap, he would not even set foot near it. If it was not...

Instead he leveled his darkest look back at her. Snape reminded himself he that was not a timid, cowering boy of thirteen anymore. He was an adult and a Hogwarts professor. This woman before him could hold no power over him if he did not allow it. She could not fail him or punish him and her influence with the Dark Lord, if indeed real, no longer mattered. His mind circled around that last thought.

"Madame Collins, if you mean to intimidate or bribe me to do bidding that is unconscionable, let me inform you that I cannot be bought." He kept his voice calm to shield a strange panic that boiled within him.

She smiled and the darkness vanished from her kind, elderly face. She reached up and plucked a few strands of nothing from his dark jacket and patted his chest.

"Severus, always so intense and distrustful." She turned, her prowling continuing to his shelves and her fingers dancing about the jars and bottles. "How could you believe I would want to do anything that might go against your...," she turned to look at him again, "morals? I simply want to enlist your sweeping knowledge of potions to ensure that my granddaughter continues to excel far above any other student who passes through Hogwarts. That includes Harry Potter."

Snape flinched as if he had been hit with a whip, and he jerked his head so suddenly in her direction he felt his lank, dark hair flap against his cheek.

"You know of his coming, then?"

She smiled again, sweetly, dangerously. "We all know."

"I take it you enjoyed the floxenium dragon seed?" Madame Collins continued.

"It was very kind of you, and it was a valued addition to my stock." Snape now followed behind her, wanting to make sure she didn't take or plant anything that could come back to cause trouble for him.

"And I see your stock is frightfully low. Would you like that to change, my dear man?" She pretended not to notice how he watched her. "Perhaps that could be our trade and a fair one I must say! Help Davindra... when you can... when it's possible, and I will see that you will not want for the best quality and hard to find supplies both for the school and for yourself. Consider it a charitable donation." Her enchanting smile brightened, and she waved her hand as if to pronounce the deal settled.

With her other hand, she produced two small bottles from beneath her cloak and held them in front of his face. He had to pull back to see what they were.

"Cornish bog mist and varamort drops," she said.

Snape didn't move to touch them and didn't let his expression show he cared. "I can find bog mist anywhere."

"Cornish bog mist." She waved the bottle. "From The Thousand Year Swamp. You know how often that's available."

His eyes continued to fixate on her, wishing her and her filthy inducement gone. The only way to deal with this woman and her damned granddaughter was to give them what they wanted. Snape snatched the bottles from her grasp.

"I'll do what I can," he said through tight lips.

"I knew you would, Severus."

Madame Collins smiled serenely and allowed her hand to trail across Snape's chest as she passed him and continued to the door, where she turned and gave him the now familiar Collins back glance, and then she was gone. Where her fingers had run against him, he could feel a burning mark, as though her nails had gone through to his skin.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry Potter was just a boy. A rather small, average, messy looking boy. For some reason this startled Snape when he saw him. He supposed that all the stories of The Boy Who Had Lived and defeated the Dark Lord along with Snape's own tortured memories of James Potter had built up this child to be something great and powerful. But he was a nervous, wide-eyed, bespectacled, clumsy boy no different than any other. In fact he was far less impressive than many other of the students from pure blood families, such as Draco Malfoy. If all that was predicted of Harry Potter came true, Snape would eat his own wand. In the mean time, there was revenge to be delivered.

Again Davindra Collins and her meddling grandmother had slipped from his mind until later in the day, when the second year Potions class began. Snape made his usual entrance, and when he turned to address the group, he inadvertently made the mistake of looking right into Davindra's face.

She had grown more, again sitting taller than most of her class. Still quite thin, her face seemed to have refined over the summer months. Slimmer cheeks, a firmer jaw and as always, those laser like eyes. Her ashen black hair was pulled away from her face in the front, different than before, but the wispy bangs still brushed against her eyebrows. The slightest of knowing smiles touched her mouth when she knew he was visually stuck on her.

Forcing himself to turn away from the whole class just to avoid her gaze, Snape spun about and paced for another moment. The prepared and well-memorized speech about the rigors of the second year Potions class had to be brought back into focus before he could even try again.

'Damn that stupid girl, she's like Medusa!' his mind raged.

Finally composed, he began again and this time took every effort to not even look at her. When he spoke her name for a question, he made sure to not look at her. Only out of the corner of his eye did he allow her to register.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Potter. The Stone. And that moronic defense against the dark arts teacher, Quirrell, acting more strangely, suspiciously and being more jumpy than ever; it all kept Snape awake at night and caused his already thin patience to snap at regular intervals.

Thankfully, Davindra must have also been too engrossed in the beginning year, for she had not bothered him outside of class even once. In class, he had kept his eyes averted and only addressed her when she kept her insistent hand in the air for longer than he could ignore.

One dreary, rainy day a few weeks into the school session, Snape happened to be on his way to Dumbledore's office when he noticed a group clustered about in the courtyard on the still wet grass. Not knowing if unsupervised magic was taking place or if general unruliness had broken out he decided to investigate.

Gathered together were Draco Malfoy and his sidekicks Crabbe and Goyle, as well as a few more members of Slytherin house hanging about the fringes. They seemed to be interested in something on the ground, and when Snape was close enough to see, he spotted Davindra Collins sitting in a rather suspicious puddle of mud with Hermione Granger at her side attempting to retrieve the muddied books.

The closer he got, the more clearly he could hear Hermione giving the laughing group of boys an earful.

"...the most rotten, foul thing and I know it was all on purpose. That puddle wasn't there before!"

"But it's the perfect place for a Mudblood!" Malfoy replied with a giggle.

"What is going on here?" Snape demanded as he stepped beside them.

They all seemed startled to see him appear before them. Malfoy and his bunch indeed looked as though they had been caught doing something. Hermione seemed incensed, and Davindra just sat in the mud looking indignant and angry.

"We were just walking past, and she," Malfoy pointed at Davindra, "slipped on some mud and fell over. All we did was laugh."

Crabbe and Goyle nodded in agreement while the outer group seemed to step back and quickly disperse.

"They put the mud puddle there!" Hermione shouted. "Right in front of where Davindra was stepping. They were aiming for her."

Quietly, Davindra spoke as she began gathering her ruined books and papers. "Never mind, Hermione."

"Did not! It's not our fault she keeps her nose in a book and doesn't look where she's going," Malfoy shot back.

"Enough!" Snape shouted and all were silenced. "Miss Granger, I will handle things from here; you are excused."

Giving them all hard looks, she handed Davindra her papers and left.

Turning to the boys, "You three, I expect to see in my office after classes today. We will discuss this further."

They also left, but with scowls on their young faces.

Snape detested having to take points away from his own house, but if they were to be stupid enough to pull pranks in front of so many witnesses as well as stay to watch the trouble unfold, perhaps a little detention was in order.

This left Davindra still sitting in the mud as regally as one could, while she attempted to wipe mud from her books.

"You," he said looking down at her, "come with me now." He began to stride away then stopped when she didn't immediately get up.

"You can walk? Or is the mud particularly pleasant today?" he asked sarcastically .

An unsteady puff of air escaped her as though she were gathering up the energy and courage to rise. When she did, Snape could see she was truly covered in mud from ass to toes with clumps of it spotting her face, hair and arms. To her chest she clutched her wet, muddy books and papers as well as an equally spoiled book bag.

She did seem to limp as she took her first few steps, but tried to hide it as she still held her head high and her shoulders back as they made their way to Snape's empty classroom.

Inside he told her to set her things down, and when she did, Snape flicked his wand over them. Instantly they were as clean and pristine as they had been on the bookshelf a few weeks before. The homework she had just completed was also there, mud and wrinkle free, tucked into the front of her Herbology text.

She seemed relieved, then she looked down at herself and picked up a strand of mud caked hair and again her dark, thin eyebrows knitted together in sorrow.

"Don't worry," Snape said irritably. "This is all easily fixed."

Again he flicked his wand and silently hexed away the mud and dampness clinging to her.

"There are worse matters at hand, Miss Collins."

As if his words reminded her of something she missed, she held up her palms and looked at them. At the heels of each were raw looking abrasions.

Snape sighed with exasperation and turned to rifle though his cabinet until he found a certain jar. Back in front of Davindra, he uncapped the jar and grabbed her hand. A little of the ointment touched to the sore caused a brief bubbling then all was healed. She examined her hand closer, with approval and then held up her other hand, a bit of a smile beginning to touch her lips.

"I believed you were smarter than that, Miss Collins," Snape said as he finished with her wounds.

She looked puzzled.

"They never like to make it easy for those who are different. The trick is to never let it be easy for them either." He cocked an eyebrow and gazed at her to see if she read his meaning.

Davindra's look was guarded, and her eyes stayed blank.

"Surely your grandmother told you about when I was her student?" Snape hated having to dredge up his entire, wretched school experience just to make a point to this girl.

"Oh," was all she said. But she seemed to understand what he meant, for her eyes darted away with embarrassment.

'Demelza does indeed have a big mouth, as I suspected,' Snape mentally noted to himself.

"I believe you and I are much alike in that regard," he continued. "I noticed all last year that you ate alone, studied alone, walked alone. Don't get me wrong, I very much respect a desire to be with your own thoughts rather than the noisy drivel of your classmates. But it does make for a more difficult assimilation into the wizarding community. You see, they tend to not want to trust anyone who doesn't do everything just as they do and think just as they think."

Snape couldn't stop the cold, sardonic smile that spread across his lips. "If you are at all different, you stand out as a target for their jokes and pranks. You'll be a victim of their general boredom and frustration at the world. They will take your self respect, your dignity, and use it to polish their arrogance and pride, then throw it back in your face, tattered, soiled and of no... further... use."

For a moment he had gone from his room and had seen not what was before him now, but horrible scenes that happened long ago. The absence of his own voice brought him back to the present where Davindra sat in stunned silence. Her eyes were wide with astonishment and relief.

"Yes," she whispered. "They won't talk to me. I try to fit in. I do." Her eyes became wet, and her voice cracked and rose in pitch and volume. "No matter what I try, they only laugh at me behind my back and put spiders in my bed and..."

Perhaps it was the rush of memories or maybe it was the anger at the injustice that no one had bothered to counsel him at her age, but Snape knew he couldn't hear any more of her pathetic stories.

He grabbed her arms and forced her to look into his face as he hissed, "Never trust them. Never believe anything they tell you. Never let them take you down and never, never let them see you cry."

She had stopped crying, stopped breathing it seemed, and her wide eyes stared straight into his.

"Always stay one step ahead and always stay alert. Eventually they will learn that trifling with you only brings them trouble." He let her go and stepped back to compose himself, as his pulse was racing and his breath was coming fast.

"I wanted this year to be different," she said sadly.

"No, Davindra, it will never be different," he said with ice dripping from his voice.

Suddenly he realized he had called her by her first name. It was a slip, he decided. He was relating a little to closely to her right now.

"As I said, Miss Collins," he cleared his throat to let the formality settle back between them. "You are too smart to let them get the upper hand. There is no need for the events of today to ever repeat themselves." Snape took a few more breaths to calm himself. "You know, your grandmother came to visit me a few weeks ago."

She nodded solemnly.

"She wants us to continue your extra studies." Snape surveyed her face carefully, watching for the familiar haughtiness to return. Instead her eyes stayed off in a far corner of the room and her lips stayed pressed into a thin line.

"I believe it would indeed be in your best interest to keep ahead of your classmates."

This time her eyes did slide back to him, but carefully, with suspicion.

"Granted," he continued coolly as he paced before her. "I cannot condone any magic done as retaliation for any injustice you might have suffered. But knowing how to protect ones self is always reasonable. I've noticed specifically that you could use some help with your wand work. Knowing the incantations and the potions is only part of the secret. I believe I can help you with all of it, Miss Collins."

Finally a faint sparkle appeared on her face as she seemed to grasp the full knowledge of what he was suggesting.

An equally faint smile crossed his lips. Perhaps things were looking up for both of them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As Snape had suggested, they tackled the wand work along with other subjects not officially taught by him. She held her wand too tightly and didn't trust in the flow of her words and the visuals of her mind to guide her appendage. When his words seemed to not convey the message, it took Snape standing behind her, his hand encircling her wrist firmly and ordering her to allow her hand to go limp and just feel the spell travel down from her head until it shot of our her fingers, through her wand and into the air. Her intensity was an asset and a hindrance. She would have to learn to harness it in order to make the best use of it. It could be the key to her total domination of the magic world, or it could be her downfall.

Eagerly she devoured the lessons he imparted. Most mornings he found her awaiting him outside the Great Hall after breakfast or at the door to his dungeon classroom. In the evenings she sought him out wherever he hid himself. Always there were questions, hypothetical problems and requests for more demonstrations of wand use.

Never a demonstrative person, to say the least, all the hands-on work Davindra required was immensely uncomfortable to Snape. A session of constantly touching her arms, hands, and shoulders would send him on a frenzied search for Barkacid soap, which he would use to scrub himself from the elbows down until his skin was a raw pink. The burn of the acid was far less uncomfortable than the memory of the feel of her skin.

Slowly Snape noticed a change in her. It was slight at first, like a coil had been loosened. Undoubtedly, there was a moderation about her now. Her stare was less fierce. Snape found he could actually look directly at her, even during a lecture, and not feel as though she were a Dementor trying to suck out his soul. Though her calm and regal manner had not lessoned, there seemed to be a much more earthy air about her. She hadn't totally lost her edge; what was more important was that she had finally figured out the key to turning her power on and off.

Snape had seen that switch flick on when once again Malfoy and his friends attempted to foil her by turning her completed homework into an origami bird that promptly flew out of the window.

Davindra calmly looked into Malfoy's face and said, "That's a very clever trick."

A flick of her wand and the bird flew back to peck its paper beak furiously against Malfoy's head. He waved his arms about and swatted at the bird until Davindra ended the enchantment.

From the distance at which he stood, Snape could see that a smart reply was forming on Malfoy's lips, but something in Davindra's dark and cold look made him stop. His sneer nearly faltered until he finally spat out, "It was only a joke, Mudblood."

When Malfoy's group stalked off, Davindra's eyes immediately went to the dark corner Snape had hidden himself in to watch the event. She had felt him watching all along. They regarded each other with dim, knowing smiles and then moved on.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The rest of the year prior to the Christmas break had proven busy for both of them. Their private times together became fewer as each had other things begging their time.

For Snape, the Stone and its protection, as well as keeping a tighter tabs on Professor Quirrell, had kept him literally running from one end of the Hogwarts to the other. The troll wondering the halls at Halloween was obviously a ploy to distract everyone long enough for the theft of the stone hidden under Hagrid's three-headed dog. Doing more than his part to ensure its security, Snape had dashed to the tower to check on it while everyone else was running about like hippogriffs with their heads cut off. The effort earned him a mangled leg that left him visibly hobbling about for several days. The Stone was safe for the time being. However, Snape let Quirrell know that he was aware of his intentions. The stuttering fool protested his innocence, but Snape read fear and greed in every twitch of his body.

Then there was the ever annoying Harry Potter and his little gang of misfits. He was a very popular attraction with everyone in the school, students and teachers alike. A fact that reminded Snape of James Potter and annoyed him no end. At every available chance, he would hack and swipe at Harry's ego and feel ever so slightly better.

Snape realized Quirrell had it in for Potter even worse than he himself did during the Quidditch match. Only his quick thinking on the counter curse saved the boy's life. His only thanks was a scorched robe and even more disrespect and insolence from 'the wonder triplets.'

'I should have let him fall to his death,' Snape seethed in retrospect. Surely now he was more than even with James Potter for any gallant life-saving attempts that may have been made.

These demanding tasks overshadowed the fact that Davindra was earning more favorable attention. Suddenly, Snape realized she no longer always sat, ate and walked alone. Often at least one or two of her fellow Ravensclaws would be near, exchanging a few words. There had even been several times where she and Hermione Granger, an equally unbearable over intellectual, had their heads together discussing something undoubtedly profound to their overly excited minds.

On one hand, Snape felt a small amount of pride that she would not have turned this new leaf if not for him. Another vein had him feeling jealous and angry for he had never been so lucky, at her age, to get a chance to improve his social standing. Also, if she found herself embraced by her peers and a top student on her own, would she still be at his feet begging attention night and day?

It was a ridiculous thought that he pushed from his head. Of course he would be happy to be rid of her. His time was stretched thin enough as it was. 'The end of her constant pestering would be a blessing, would it not?'

Snape shoved the uncomfortable knot of emotions deep into his gut to be ignored, hopefully forever.

In the new year, the stress surrounding Snape did not let up, and again he found himself feeling like an angry caged animal, ready to strike at anyone who came close enough.

Davindra's new social life had cut into the time she would have normally used for studies with him. He assured himself it was a relief, but somewhere inside him there was an annoyed, resentful sensation which was bubbling up to add to his accumulated seething wrath. Outwardly, he realized, he kept anticipating her dark, slender form clutching yet another book and questions bubbling from her lips at every corner.

Insomnia was a constant companion to Snape's life. But the small, dark hours of night at Hogwarts were some of his favorite times. He walked the corridors, officially to keep an eye out for curfew breaking students, unofficially to do some of his best thinking and snooping. Sometimes he would ride the ever-changing staircases to the various houses and test the anti-intruder charms at the entrances. Various pictures would wake and glare at him or tell him to put out his wand light, but he ignored their protests and continued on his nightly surveys, happy to interrupt someone else's sleep.

More often he was finding himself in the Ravenclaw tower entrance, the picture snoring contentedly, without a worry in the world.

What was she doing in there, he wondered? Was she sound asleep with the covers pulled up to her chin, a book of potions across her lap? Or was she still awake talking and giggling with her fellow roommates about boys, clothes and other girlish fancies? If he wished, he could see for himself. He knew many ways. A flutter in his stomach caused his breath to catch. Whatever he was thinking had to stop. He immediately sent himself back to his chambers for the rest of the night.

After that, Snape swore he wouldn't allow himself to pass anywhere near the Ravenclaw tower, especially during his night walks. Davindra's absence from her tutoring annoyed him enough that he considered contacting Madame Collins on the matter. He decided first to speak to Davindra herself. He was certain he could make her see that he was far from done with her.

Snape lay on his bed, fully clothed, with no expectation of sleep, and stared up into the darkness. Davindra, the Stone and Harry Potter danced around the edges of his consciousness. He closed his eyes to focus on the shelter of inky, black nothingness. Sleep began to tug at him and he allowed himself to fall.

Somewhere, far off, he heard the sound of his door open and a figure slowly step through. He willed his eyes to open, but they wouldn't. However, he could sense with the clarity of sight what was happening around him. He saw the figure walk silently, carefully toward his bed, knowing more than seeing, that it was Davindra.

She was dressed in her school uniform; he could hear the quiet wisp of her skirt against her tights. Leaning over the bed, she looked down at him. Snape demanded that he wake up and address just how this girl managed to get past his anti-intruder charms, but his body remained as immobile as if under a powerful sleeping spell.

She lingered above him for a time before he felt her place a knee on his bed, then swung herself over and sit astride him. Her weight was startlingly real. The sound of her breath and the smell of her hair assaulted his very alert senses. He knew she sat across him, looking down at him through a curtain of dark hair, and he was certain there was a smile of coy amusement on her lips. Slowly she leant down to him. Her knees gripped the side of his hips, and he felt her stomach rest against his. Her elbows were plopped under her chin and dug into his chest. Her breath brushed against his face. Was that a slight giggle he heard?

Snape's hands felt cemented in place, or otherwise he would have reached up to shove her off of him. Instead he was totally paralyzed to her dangerous, playful game.

Slowly she sat up. Did she just sigh? Her flattened palms ran down the length of his chest to his stomach. Inside a frightful flutter followed their descent. Her hands found the buttons on his jacket and began to unfasten a few at the bottom. Utter panic set in and Snape called out for some incantation that could break whatever evil hex had been put on him. Then, he felt her hand reach under his coat and stroke his stomach, her nails scratching at the fabric of the shirt underneath.

Snape felt he had stopped breathing, stopped thinking, and now only waited for what was to happen next.

She pulled at the shirt until it was free of his pants, and she was able to run her hand against his bare skin. With each stroke she reached a little further up. Her fingers felt like ice, like razors... like heaven.

Just as his mind was about to explode and he was nearly ready to surrender to the enchantment cast on him, all his power returned, and his eyes flew open; he sat up and his arms flailed about at nothing. His room was empty and he was alone. His clothing was as tightly buttoned as always. But his body still burned and tingled with the feel of her. Had she really been here? Had he dreamed it? Had he underestimated how advanced her knowledge of spells really was?

Snape was left with a hundred questions and an overwhelming fear of going back to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day found him nervously checking the buttons of his coat repeatedly and utterly determined to uncover the truth about the events of last night. He felt angry and foolish. The single most important point that that girl needed to be made aware of was that he was not to be toyed with.

Purposely he ignored Davindra all during class. But as the students began to shuffle out after, he bellowed that he wanted to speak with her.

She seemed unsurprised to be called upon this way and simply sat down to wait for the room to empty. After the last student left, Snape slammed the door and strode to stand in front of her desk. He braced his arms on the edge of the table and leant down to stare into her eyes. She gazed back with expectancy.

"Would you like to explain yourself with regards to last night's activities, Miss Collins?" he asked, keeping his voice low yet menacing.

"Last night?" Her eyebrows shot up with a very authentic expression of confusion.

"Yes, last night, very late. You snuck out of your room for a little stroll. Or was that just some creative sleep walking?"

"I never left the Ravenclaw tower after I returned from dinner," she said insistently.

"You're almost a good liar, Miss Collins, but try again." Struggling with the urge to reach out and strike her, Snape walked away from the desk down between the rows. "What I want to know is how you managed to get past my anti-intruder charms. They are much too complex for even you to break open."

He turned back but still found her staring at him with astonishment and blank confusion.

It only took a few steps to bridge the gap between them. "You were HERE last night. You were in my chambers. Now how did you get in?" he yelled directly at her.

"I wasn't here!" she shouted back at him. "You can ask any of my room mates; they saw me for the entire evening until we all went to bed, and I never moved until morning!"

Snape glared at her through narrowed eyes. "Then you did it with some sort of spell. You cast your image. But how? That is very advanced work."

Davindra shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I don't know what you are talking about! I never came into your chambers, and I didn't do any spell work to make it look like I did."

"I have ways of finding out, Miss Collins; you cannot lie to me," he roared. The truth of the matter was that he had done all he could to trace a spell back to her or to anyone. But nothing had shown itself to him. Even now he could read that she was hiding nothing.

"Do what you must, Professor," she said indignantly. "You will find that whatever happened in here last night, I had nothing to do with." Her back was stick straight, and her arms were crossed over her chest. Those pale jade eyes were set on incinerate as they bored into him.

Fear was fueling his rage. If she hadn't been physically in his room, and she hadn't cast a spell to project her image in his room, then that meant his own mind had put her there.

"Let me assure you, I will get to the bottom of this highly disturbing behavior." He turned to avoid her crippling stare. "The next matter of business I believe we need to address is your lack of effort to continue in the tutoring your grandmother went to so much trouble to arrange."

"I've been very busy...," she began.

"Yes," he hissed coolly as he turned to her. "I've seen that you've developed quite a social circle that is eating up a great deal of your time. But remember what I warned you of earlier this year, Miss Collins. Do not trust that any of them are really your friends. Because just as soon as you do, they will turn on you just to have a good laugh."

This did cause her stony glare to falter and her shoulders to slump a bit.

Slowly he began to walk closer, his fingers again touching the buttons on his jacket until he clasped them together to stop their nervousness.

"I didn't want to have to contact your grandmother about any of this. I had hoped that we could work this out." He paused to examine her and found a more submissive posture than moments before. "Perhaps if you promise that you had nothing to do with entering my chambers last night and promise that you will resume your extra studies, we can let these two little issues slide."

She nodded firmly, her eyes not daring to glance at him.

He leaned down beside her until his lips were even with her ear and said very quietly, very coldly, "And, Miss Collins, for future reference, don't ever think you can fool me, for I will always find out. And I will always retaliate."

Though she didn't look at him, her eyes did widen and her breath did catch.

Snape stood and crossed his arms. "You may go now."

Hurriedly she gathered her things and left, without a backward glance.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Good as her word, Davindra did resume her tutoring with Snape, though for quite a while after their talk she was icy and reserved toward him.

'And she has reason to be peeved?' Snape scoffed to himself as he watched her working through a potion. 'I'm the one who gets inconvenienced and trespassed upon, then lied to, and she's the one with the attitude.'

The truth was that he wasn't exactly sure where his anger was coming from either. Mostly he did believe her when she said she was innocent. But something still made him feel distrustful of her.

There was also the matter of being cast aside in favor of a turn with the popular crowd, when last year she had nearly followed in his footsteps begging attention. It was so typical of those ungrateful little snots. Fickle and mindless, the lot of them. Willing to throw talent and knowledge away for some pathetic scraps of attention from someone who fancies themselves above everyone else.

Snape hadn't realize that while this little diatribe was going on in his head, he had been staring at Davindra, his eyes narrowed and his lip slightly curled. Now she stared back at him, and her look questioned his visual interrogation and dared him to match her resolve. Their stare down was only broken by her reaching up to slowly push a lock of black hair from her face. Snape found his eyes watching the flow of that piece of hair as it fell into place and her fingers combed it through to the end. The faint afternoon light shimmered against its ashy luster.

"Are you finished, Miss Collins?" he spoke in a low, hard voice.

"Yes," she replied strongly, almost brightly.

"You may go."

He broke the look and refused to even a glance up until he heard the sound of his door close and he knew she was gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

For the rest of the year, no more dreams plagued him. At first Snape had been afraid to go back to sleep at all. But eventually, he knew, even with his insomnia, he could not function without sleeping. So, he began brewing a strong sleeping potion he would take that would ensure him just a few hours of black, dreamless sleep. It seemed to do the trick.

Snape found he indeed needed his energies to pursue Quirrell, who was making more obvious attempts at swiping the Sorcerer's Stone for himself. Talk of the Dark Lord returning was making everyone nervous. Throwing Harry Potter into the mix only made the triangle more vexing. And he was certain that all three were connected.

Not until Snape was alerted that the area holding the Stone had been breached, and everyone was assembled to defend its contents, did he put it all together. By then Harry Potter had himself, single handedly, defeated Quirrell who had been hosting the Dark Lord.

Again, a Potter had taken center stage while all those who had done all the work had to stand aside. While everyone was showering the boy with praise and hero worship, Snape forced his revulsion down and simply went back about his business. But he did store away in his mind all the things he had learned that year; perhaps Potter was worth a second look and perhaps the Dark Lord's return wasn't so far away.

As everyone was packing up for the summer holidays away from Hogwarts, Snape found himself with the familiar feeling of being watched. He turned and was not surprised to find Davindra standing at his doorway.

"What do you want?" he asked as he turned away from her to continue his work.

"I just wanted to tell you something." Her voice had its usual spark and clarity, and Snape found that he could hardly stand the sound of it.

"Be quick about it."

He felt her walking towards him and he spun about, suddenly feeling suspicious of what she might do behind his back.

But there was that coy, secretive smile, that expression that said she knew something he didn't. He hated that look.

He returned her a look of impatience.

"First, I wanted to thank you," she began, "for everything you did for me this year."

Snape groaned and again turned to pack his books. "Is this more of your stage drama, Miss Collins, for I really don't have time..."

"No," she insisted, reaching out and grabbing his arm.

He looked at her hand as though it were a slug that had landed on him. She took it away and continued.

"You taught me a great deal. More than just potions and spells and charms. I'm sorry I didn't show more appreciation." She seemed to pause and search for words. "I've been thinking, though, and what I want more than anything is to be the success that my grandmothers are. And I know that they studied hard and not just at Hogwarts but on their own to be what they are now. I know they expect it of me, and I don't want to disappoint them. I know I still have a lot of work to do."

"So what are you saying?" He glared at her, wondering if he should bother trusting her.

"I promise next year, if you will still tutor me, to never get distracted and to stay focused on everything you tell me."

He wanted to tell her to peddle it somewhere else for he did not have the stomach for her girlish games.

"Grandmother has warned me that the Dark Lord could be coming back soon. She says I should be prepared," she added before he could reply.

"Yes, I'm sure your grandmother would know about those things," he muttered.

"She says that we need you." Her voice was somber yet almost seductive.

Turning to stare at her again, he found her face more serious.

"Really?" was all he gave as dry reply.

So he was needed. That sounds like he might be worth more than just some potion supplies.

"Go home, Miss Collins, I will discuss the future plan for your education with Madame Collins."

Her eyes clung to him, perhaps hoping for more, but he only stared coldly back. Slowly, she turned and those steely green eyes were the last of her to leave him.

Snape waited for the backward glance as she neared the door and he got it.

"Good-bye, Professor," she said softly.