I'm Open...You're Closed

A/N: Please Review! I want to hear your thoughts, good or bad. Again, thanks to my beta, ImOnMedication, for her hard work.

***

Snape woke in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was tending to him. He had suffered a heart attack.

"No wonder!" she chided. "After all the abuse your body has suffered. It's amazing you are still alive!"

He chuckled at the comment. She looked at him puzzled and then shook her head. She never could get any sense into his hard head!

He spent the summer convalescing. Dumbledore refused for him to return to teaching since he had been summoned by Voldemort numerous times during the summer and had endured more torture, which had set his healing back by months. Snape lost his temper and had to be given a Calming Draught for the Headmaster to continue.

Dumbledore assured him his classes were in the most capable of hands. He would be teaching his N.E.W.T. Levels and all was well.

"What of my first through fifth-years?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, being Headmaster, I cannot do it all." His blue eyes twinkled. Snape frowned. Here it comes! he thought suspiciously.

"Miss Dangler is more than competent to teach your first- through fourth-years. I will be supervising the fifth-year classes, since it is the O.W.L. year and all," he explained cautiously, waiting for the volcano to erupt.

"Let me get this straight. Amanda Dangler is teaching my classes. She has complete access to my stores, my personal private property? Am I correct in that assumption?" he asked coolly, but with rage just underneath the surface.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered quietly, closing his eyes.

"That's it!" he roared. Snape whipped out of bed and bellowed for his clothes. Madam Pomfrey tried to calm him down, but he was as desperate as a frightened child. The man was beyond reason. Dumbledore frowned as he assessed the grown man's reaction to Miss Dangler's teaching of his classes. The words, "my stores," and "my personal private property" resounded in his mind. Severus was clearly terrified of this young 18-year-old girl. It was remarkable. Dumbledore had never seen him in such a state over a young woman since Lily Evans Potter. But he must be calmed down, or he'd have another heart attack!

He regretted doing it, but he immobilized him, casting the Petrificus Totalus Charm on him. He would have to stay that way until he could see to reason. Perhaps Miss Dangler could visit and speak with him. Perhaps... perhaps, he pondered.

***

Days later, after Snape had calmed down enough to accept his situation, Amanda came into the Infirmary to see him. One look at her sent the man into a rage. She whipped out her wand and threatened him.

"After all, I am a teacher, not a student," she said with a slight smile. She regarded him. Even in sickness and in a weak state, he still could pull up his defenses and refuse anyone admittance into his personal space.

Amanda had learned a great deal about relationships and the hidden motivations of people, especially those who were insecure. Most often a snarl was a mask for something tenderly felt. Instead of holding a hand...slap it away. Yes meant no, and no meant yes. It had to be an exhausting existence, to be sure, but it was what it was.

"I would greatly appreciate it if you would stop looking at me in that infuriating way!" he snapped.

"What way?" she asked, puzzled.

"You look at me as if I'm some damaged soul, a lost puppy, or a whimpering 2-year-old in need of comfort." He leaned forward and growled, "I am none of those things. And your attempts at conversation...even your mere presence...is unwanted and unnecessary!"

She sighed deeply and looked away, but she did not leave. He had turned his face from hers, but shifted his eyes to glance at her. She was a little older, but not by age, but by anguish. Her face showed so much confusion. He hoped she wouldn't start crying. He would definitely have to hex her if she did. He could not tolerate weepy females!

Instead she stood and then leaned into him, her hands on the bed, and pushed into his personal space. She was unaware her posture gave him a clear view though to her breasts. He forced his eyes to focus on her eyes. Violet sparks flashed in her blue eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, so you'd better either give yourself another heart attack and die, or accept the situation. I can't live my life without a starting point. I'm lost! I don't know what the hell you are!" She snapped up tall and angry.

"Fine," he muttered.

She gave him one last pitiful look and walked out. "I am such a liar!" she thought smugly. Give him enough time, he'll come around, she reassured herself

Snape watched her walk out. She was quite pretty when she was angry. Not that I want her! he thought.

***

Snape could not resist the temptation of listening in on Professor Dangler's first year Potions class. First years! he thought maliciously. Let's see how she can control a classroom!"

As the class settled in, Professor Amanda Dangler came into the room; her normally long blonde hair that hung free down her shoulders were now up and pulled back in a tight makeshift bun with her wand stuck in it. She wore billowing black robes that covered everything from the neck to the floor, not quite unlike the style of the dreaded Potions master: Severus Snape.

From his vantage point, Snape could see her as she stood in front of the class. She wore no make-up, which made her complexion even more pale and severe against the black robes. She did not smile, but did not frown. She took in the students, as if assessing their worth. The room was silent. Then suddenly, she spoke. Her voice was unlike the usual higher pitch Snape was accustomed. It was booming and commanding.

"My name is Professor Dangler." With a sweep of her hand, words appeared on the board behind her. Whispers floated across the room. Snape was not impressed. Show off!

"Now this may be a blessing or a curse...that depends on you and your efforts in this class. This class is not my own. It belongs to Professor Snape, who is a Potions master. I am not. Yet my practical knowledge and the faith the Headmaster has in me should ease your minds that I am perfectly capable of teaching first year Potions. I will be teaching as long as Professor Snape requires my assistance."

"Make no mistake, I do not show favoritism, nor will I accept shoddy work. Each one of you WILL pull his or her own weight. If you have a problem, or do not understand the directions, you WILL come directly to me...not to your partner for help."

She began wandering around the room as she spoke, but Snape could still hear her commanding voice. "I'm sure you all have been regaled with tales of Professor Snape's infamous first year speech of "bewitching the mind and ensnaring the senses." I am not Professor Snape. I have a more practical speech for you. Consider it a warning: You WILL respect the materials and substances you handle in this room. I do not want anyone to lose their life because they have not taken time to respect the powerful substances that are in this room. Because of the potential for danger, I shall be diligent in my observations. Do not be alarmed; it is my job to assess and to watch out for any potential disasters."

She was back at the front. Her face again was expressionless, neither smiling nor frowning. "You will respect this room and the Professor to whom to rightfully belongs, as well as to the Professor he has entrusted it. For those of you who are confused...that would be me."

Snape smirked at her haughtiness. Well, all in all, not a bad start, But will she hold it together under pressure? He leaned back in his chair to wait for the calamity that was sure to come. Miss Dangler did not have the fortitude to deal with these dunderheads day in and day out...he was positive.

After a lengthy lecture, she set the students to work on the Boil Cure Potion. "Please mind the directions on the board to the letter!" She frowned. The students were not paying attention.

"OY!" she yelled. That got everyone's attention. Now she was angry. Snape leaned forward in his chair. He could see the flashes of purple in her eyes that made her so beautiful.

"When I am speaking, you will be quiet, or I swear, I will change my pleasant demeanor and start acting like Professor Snape. And no one wants that...do they?"

The room was silent as death. She stilled her face and repeated herself. "Please mind the directions on the board. If you add the porcupine nettles BEFORE you remove your cauldron from the fire, you will ruin not only your cauldron and the potion, but may cause undue harm to yourself or the people around you. So please, pay attention!"

She went back to prowling the room. Snape listened as she gave praise and correction indiscriminately. She definitely was not going to show house favoritism. It was refreshing for Snape. He stretched back in his chair, his hands resting behind his head. Oh, to be free to be one's self without worrying if your actions might cost you your life! he thought.

He made sure to get back into his bed after class was dismissed. He heard her walk into the office. She went straight to work; he could hear the scratching of her quill on the parchment. He fell asleep to the sound. It was soothing.

***

A week later, Amanda walked into Snape's office and found him back in his usual black robes. He was paler than usual, but other than that, seemed back to his normal, indifferent, self. He glanced up from his work to give her a swift once over and went back to work as he addressed her.

"I have been monitoring your work, your teaching, and your overall abilities to handle a Potions class. I have found you to be acceptable. I will continue to observe you and then we shall take things from there. That will be all, Miss Dangler."

Amanda stared at him. He said all that without so much as a break in his stride. He is an insufferable prat, she assessed. "Professor," she called out to him.

"I am busy and do not wish to participate in any frivolous conversation you might want to pull me into," he snapped.

Again, he did not look up at her. Amanda backed out, and once she closed the door behind her, she closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. This is going to take forever! she thought wearily.

***

He was as good as his word. He sat in the back of the classroom for each lesson, every day, for two months. He had no comments, no helpful remarks, or disparaging ones for that matter. He eagle-eyed her constantly, which made Amanda very uncomfortable, but she kept on doing the best she could. The older students tried at first to test her mettle, but a few cutting remarks and a showing of her quick temper that slashed away at house points soon brought all her classes into order.

She did, though, carry out her threat to unleash "Snape" on them when one uppity Slytherin tried to usurp her. He must have felt since Snape was back in the room, he could act anyway he saw fit. Amanda came down on him like a panther and dressed him down so badly he did not speak in class for a week. After that particular episode, she stole a glance towards the Potions master. Her flashing eyes bored into his. She defied him to stand up for the boy and take over the class, but he sat still, and she thought she saw a wicked smile creep onto the corners of his mouth.

At the end of the two months, however, Amanda had had enough. She wanted answers and she wanted him to talk to her now! She waited until he went alone to the Forbidden Forest to replenish his stores. She stealthy tracked him, keeping her distance. Once safely ensconced in the Forest, and had time to gather her thoughts, she finally faced him.

He turned to her. "So, you finally decided to reveal yourself?" he said sarcastically.

"I want answers, Severus," she said darkly.

His eyes flashed angrily. "I do not recall ever giving you the permission to call me by my given name!" he spat.

"I really could care less," she answered back evenly. "Fine, Professor, sir, whatever... I need you to talk to me."

He resumed his work, turning his back to her. "No," he said coldly.

"Yes!" she yelled as she grabbed his arm. He tried to wrench away from her grasp, but she held on for dear life. They struggled and he finally got the upper hand and whipped her around, forcing her to her knees in a chokehold.

"Why must we continue to collide?" he asked bitterly. "You do not respect my wishes for privacy, even though I have made it quite clear that is all I want. My history, my past, and my pain...it all belongs to me...alone. I do not want to discuss it with you!"

He started to relax his hold, and she swiped her leg under his, causing him to fall on his back. She straddled him and, with her wand at his throat said, "Look, I didn't choose this life. I did not choose these memories. This isn't about just you and what you want. You are going to have to grow up emotionally, Snape. And until you can stop acting like a sulking child, yes, you and I will continue to collide."

She lifted herself off him slowly, backing away with her wand at the ready. Once she was a safe distance away, she turned her back to him.

"What gives you the right to say I'm emotionally immature?" he yelled after her. "I'm not the one stalking people, trying force them to spill the most intimate details of their life!" he raged.

Amanda sighed as she turned around and shook her head. "I already KNOW the details; I SAW it all! I'm not asking you to talk about the rapes, I just want answers about my father, dammit!" she roared.

"And then you'll leave me alone?" he asked quietly.

"If that's what you want," she said solemnly.

He glared at her as if she were mad. "Of course that's what I want, you stupid girl! You have turned my life inside out. If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have had a bloody heart attack!'

She laughed at him in disbelief. "You honestly think that I GAVE you a heart attack? Snape, you are so brilliant. You are...so gifted in many ways, but when it comes to matters of courtesy, compassion, and just plain old common sense, you are like an adolescent, no different than any fifth-year. My God, what happened to you?"

He opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off.

"No, I mean what happened to you before the Dark Lord got to you. Because you are stunted, like a child that was forced to stop growing. Your very aura is screaming for release, to be free, but you keep binding yourself, like the millions of buttons you hide behind, torturing your psyche. You brought your heart attack upon yourself. I just seem to ignite the fires that you insist on building."

She paused to collect her nerves.

"I'm tired, Snape. I need you to think long and hard about this: about where I am coming from, and where you are at this point in your life. Because, if you don't start to let some of this shite go, you'll be dead, and it'll be too late."

"Too late for what?" he snapped.

"Well, that's the bloody question, isn't it?" she snapped back at him irritatingly and mysteriously all at the same time as she left him there standing alone.