********

   Her eyes opened blearily; he could sense that she'd woken by the change in her breathing. "Apologies," he intoned sleepily. "We seem to have... found our way here in the night."

   Stella murmured, not fully awake, "what time is it?"

   "Six. Go back to sleep, I'll wake you at half-seven."

   She sighed sweetly in response. He was sure she'd move away, embarrassed to find herself cuddled against him. But instead, she nestled more deeply against him, extending her arm to embrace him even further, her thumb rubbing circles briefly against him. Oh gods. He lay silent, still, not ever wanting this to end.

********

   At seven o'clock he reluctantly tore himself away from her, gently so as not to wake her. She snuggled down into the duvet, still sleeping. Will she remember? He showered and dressed, then woke her as promised at half-seven with a gentle shake of her shoulder.

   After a few minutes she got up and slumped to the bathroom like a lumbering zombie, not speaking. He pretended to be reading the paper, but could see in his periphery her messy hair, her face scrunched from sleep, her pyjamas wrinkled and crooked. I love her, he thought to himself. Fuck. I actually do.

********

   About halfway through her shower, Severus heard her singing. She'd probably be mortified if she knew. She obviously wasn't a morning person, not able to function until she'd had a shower. Adorable.

   Emerging from the bathroom, human once more, she had her hair wrapped in a towel and was wearing a grey dress. It was, as always, exquisitely tailored to her, calf-length, with a rather dramatic bit of pleating at one hip. It had a high neckline and a bow detail on one shoulder. Severus didn't have the vocabulary to describe the dress, but he thought it was stunning on her.

   Stella sat on the sofa with a small travel case, which opened into a vanity of sorts, with a three-sided mirror and spaces to hold cosmetics and jewelry.

   He finished packing his travel trunk and sat beside her. "Sorry, I hope you don't mind?"

   She looked at his reflection in the mirror. "No, why would I?"

   "Oh, I, um... don't want to disturb you."

   She smiled. "It's fine. I'll try not to be too long."

   He felt as if he were witnessing a sacred rite. He'd never really thought about it before; his mother hadn't worn much makeup, and he'd never really been around women in such a situation. Stella always looked nice, but he'd never considered what effort it might take.

   She chatted to him idly as she applied a number of liquids and creams to her skin. He may have been a Potions Master, but he couldn't have told you what was in any of the bottles. Various powders were brushed onto her eyes and cheeks, then a black liquid applied to the corners of her eyes, in a precise swoop. Then more black applied to her eyelashes with a tiny wand. Red lipstick painted on, then blotted onto a tissue. Gods, why is that so sexy. She then brushed out her damp hair, and used her wand to charm it dry, then set it into a rather vintage-looking style. Finally, she put on earrings, a few matching rings, and closed the case.

   She went over to her bigger case, finding a pair of black heels and slipping them on. "Ready when you are."

   Severus collected his own things and met her at the door, noting her stockings which had seams up the back. He somehow kept his eyes from completely popping out of his head. Gods almighty, where do you even buy something like that? He found it incredibly alluring. He'd only seen stockings like that in old films. Get it together, you can barely even see her legs. Still, his thoughts ran wild.

   "Your dress..." he said. "It's... very nice."

   "Vintage John Galliano, not that that means anything to you of course. I found it at a Muggle thrift store years ago."

   "You really do look lovely,' he said before he could stop himself, immediately berating himself sliently for letting his inner thoughts slip out.

   "Thanks." She said with a genuine smile. "So do you."

********

   They arrived at the training venue a bit early. The coffee on offer was quite bitter, but they drank it anyway, enjoying the last few moments of peace before a long day of being "on" with strangers.

   "I truly am sorry for upsetting you last night. That was never my intention," he said.

   "Honestly, it's fine. You didn't upset me. And anyway, sometimes a good cry is cathartic."

   "Still, I want to make it up to you." Again, the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Could I... take you to dinner, perhaps? There are some restaurants down the street. We would have to take a later train back, but..." Oh fuck. What have you done.

   Her heart nearly lept from her chest. Was he... asking her out? Even after she'd broken down in front of him like that last night? God, I was sure I'd blown my chance forever.

   "Alright. Sure." It was the easiest decision of her life.

   He was a bit taken aback; he was shocked he'd managed to ask her at all, and he certainly didn't expect her to agree so readily. "Not going to argue with me this time, Madam?"

   She beamed at him and shook her head. "Ugh, looks like the others are coming. What group are you in?"

   "B, you?"

   "A. Oh no." She frowned. An overly enthusiastic wizard was making a beeline for them. "Well, see you at lunch, maybe."

   The wizard approached and herded them both toward their separate training groups. Stella gave Severus a small wave and disappeared into Conference Room A.

   He sighed. It was going to be a long day, but at least he had dinner to look forward to. A date. An actual date... with her... Merlin's beard, this can't be real.

********

   He spent a miserable morning listening to an aggressively cheerful witch tell them all about how they should be "teaching with their heart," and "being emotionally available for students." What a load of rubbish. Being emotionally available isn't going to stop dunderheaded children from disfiguring themselves or blowing up my classroom. The small group exercises were even more brutal. He was expected to tell about times he'd "really opened up" to his students or "reacted to a difficult situation with loving care." What an absolute waste of time.

   When the lunch break finally came, the cafeteria was so crowded he could barely find Stella. He finally spotted her, surrounded by several wizards from other schools, politely chatting. But Severus knew she'd be dying to get away.

   She spotted him across the room. "Lovely to meet you all, but I just need to have a word with my colleague." She excused herself and walked over to Severus. "Please, get me out of here."

   "As you wish." They left the conference hall, stepping outside into the chilly air.

   She breathed in deeply. "God, that's so much better. How's your morning been?"

   He scoffed. "Bloody miserable. A colossal waste of time and Ministry funding."

   Stella laughed. She knew this wasn't his sort of thing. "I don't mind the content, it's all the schmoozing that I hate. Promise we'll leave as soon as it's over?"

   "Promise. Shall we have a walk?"

   They strolled casually down the street, passing by various shops and cafes. At one point, Stella gasped and stopped in her tracks, hand over her mouth as if she had seen something shocking. "Oh. My. God. They're beautiful!" She stared longingly at a pair of knee-high, high-heeled button-up black boots in a shop window.

   Severus was amused. "You act as if you're looking at fine art."

   "They are fine art!" She sighed. "Oh well, we need to be getting back I guess. Four more hours of torment."

   They made their way back to the conference centre and reluctantly went back inside. Stella looked up at him before heading to her group. "See you here as soon as they let us go?"

   He smiled, slightly. "Promise."

********

   Severus met her at the door as soon as they were dismissed, and as promised, they left immediately.  A nervous sort of feeling began taking root in his gut. Why? She agreed to dinner. Obviously - for some unfathomable reason - she doesn't find you completely off-putting, or she'd have made some polite excuse. I suppose I should have planned better, made a reservation somewhere. But I didn't expect to ask her at all, it just happened. Gods, what the hell am I doing?  "What did you fancy for dinner?" He asked her once they were outside.

   "Oh, I don't mind. I like everything."

   An idea came to him. "There's a Japanese restaurant just down that way. I've always wanted to try it, but I've never known what to order."

   Her face lit up. "I can order for us. I haven't had Japanese in ages."

   The restaurant was small, quaint, with a little old lady behind the counter who greeted them with a "Konbanwa, irrashaimasse, welcome."

   "Konbanwa," Stella replied. "Futari de onegaishimasu." He gathered she was asking for a table for two.

   The old lady led them to a table in a cosy corner and gave them menus. She pointed to a button on the table and said something to Stella in Japanese, then left.

   "Wow, they even have the pin-pon system."

   "The what?"

   "Oh, restaurants in Japan usually have a button on the table. When you need something you press the button. No going up to the bar like in a pub here, and no annoying waiter checking up like in the US. And the bell goes pin-pon."

   "Ingenious."

   "It is, actually. I hate being bothered by the waiter. Well, what do you fancy?"

   "I don't have a clue. I'm completely at your mercy."

   Stella chuckled. "Alright, leave it to me. This menu looks really good. Ooh, they have umeboshi! Sour plum. It's my favourite."  She studied the menu, then pressed the button. When the old lady returned, Stella rattled off a number of things, none of which Severus recognised. He found it rather cute how excited she was, and wondered what he'd end up eating. He'd choke down dry cement if it meant being with her.

   The old lady left the table, and Stella looked around. "This place is so cute. It looks really authentic. Ooh, someone's left a magazine." She took the copy of Witch Weekly from a nearby empty table and paged through it absentmindedly whilst they talked.

   "So what delights have you ordered for us?"

   "Oh, a little of this, a little of that. They have tako-" she stopped abruptly, looking at something in the magazine. She recovered quickly, turning to the next page and trying to finish her sentence, but it wasn't fast enough. Severus had already seen.

   "Seen something interesting?" He asked coyly.

   Shit. "Um, no, nothing."

   He raised an eyebrow, saying with mock seriousness "I think you're lying."

   Stella tried closing the magazine, but he laid his hand on the pages, slowly pulling it away.

   "Oh god." She tugged at it, and he playfully pulled it back. There was no sense hiding. She let him have it, but buried her head in her hands. "I can't look."

   Severus opened to the page she'd gasped at. It was her, wearing that dress, the one she said was too indecent to show him. Bloody hell, she'd been right. He wanted this image burned in his mind forever.

   She stood quarter-profile to the camera. The dress shimmered in shades of dark red with hints of black, the enchanted latex material clinging to her like a viscous liquid. It was full length, but had a slit up one side all the way to the very top of her thigh. She turned, facing away, the dress hugging her arse and hips like nothing he'd ever seen, trailing a pool of the aqueous material behind her. The back was corset-style, laced up tightly to the middle of her back.

   She turned again, revealing the front of the dress. Whilst technically covering to the collarbone, it was cut sharply down the front nearly to her navel, with a see-through mesh layer doing little to cover the exposed skin. Her makeup was dramatic, with heavily lined smokey eyes and blood red lips. Her hair was wild and loose, cascading in waves down her back. She was wearing an elaborate crown of black jewels and flowers. Delicate text reading "Belladonna Boutique: Hogsmeade" hovered nearby.  "Hmm. Not exactly appropriate for the Yule Ball, is it?"

   "Oh my god." She said into her hands. "I'm actually going to die."

   Blessedly, the old lady chose just that moment to arrive with their drinks. Severus closed the magazine and she hurriedly snatched it back.

   "Well, Little Miss Witch Weekly, what do we have here?"

   Stella wished for a sinkhole to swallow her up. "Ume-shu. Plum liquor. It's really nice, I hope you like it." She poured the warm liquid into two tiny ceramic cups. "Anything to burn the memory of the last two minutes from my brain." They clinked cups; she was right - it was nice.

The food arrived shortly, a plethora of things he didn't recognise, but Stella described each dish, and it all ended up being quite nice. They ordered several more ume-shu, her embarrassment seemed to fade after a bit, and they fell back into their easy banter. He asked her about her time studying in Japan, and she was happy to oblige.

   They left the restaurant a bit tipsy. The ume-shu was a bit stronger than he thought. No matter, she was in a good mood and he was just happy to be with her.  They passed the shop where she'd seen the boots earlier. She paused.

   "You've been thinking about them all day, haven't you?"

   "Am I that transparent?" She said. "Sorry, I won't be long." They went inside and emerged a few moments later, with Stella carrying a large shopping bag. Severus was again glad he'd given her the chambers with the extra room. She sure as hell needed it.

   As they made their way toward the train station, a clap of thunder sounded, and a sudden downpour came out of nowhere. Stella grabbed his arm and they dashed towards a small covered alcove down the street.  They ducked into the alcove, breathing a bit heavier.  

His eyes met hers, and he reached out to wipe the raindrops from her cheek with his thumb.  As his hand made contact with her soft skin, he found himself powerless. He couldn't have stopped himself if he'd tried. He took her face gently with both hands, leaned in, and kissed her softly, his lips like a question against hers. She tasted faintly of the plum liquor. Nothing in his life had ever felt more right than this moment, here with her, his lips pressed softly against hers. It was as if his whole wretched life had been leading to this, to her.

   A beat, a breath, and her bags dropped to the ground, her hands finding their way to his face, fingers in his hair, kissing him back, feeling like she was floating away.

   Another clap of thunder startled them. He pulled away slowly. "We should... get on the train." He picked up her bags and carried them as they walked quickly toward the station, her holding on to his arm. This time he cast a charm to repel the rain like an umbrella.

   They collected their overnight bags from the station lockers and made their way to the platform, boarding the train. It was quite empty at this time of the evening, so they managed to find a vacant compartment. He gave her the window seat, and the train started its journey back to Hogsmeade, luckily without incident this time.  Stella turned slightly toward him, leaning her head on the seat back and sighing tiredly. "You're cold," he said.

   "Oh, it's fine."

   "You're shivering."

   "I'm fine."

   "Must you always argue with me?" He wrapped his cloak around her and pulled her close. She didn't protest; she leaned her head on his shoulder. "Better?" He asked.

   "Mmm-hmm."

   His hand found hers under the cloak, and he held it gently, as it it were made of fine crystal. The motion of the train threatened to lull her to sleep; she closed her eyes, revelling in just being this close to him after weeks of longing, still feeling as if she might float away.

   He savoured every moment of the journey, yet his mind was racing. You reckless fool. You were supposed to distance yourself. Now you've gone and asked her to dinner, and bloody kissed her. Merlin's beard, what were you thinking? What if someone sees you together like this? But she didn't seem upset by it... in fact kissed you back. Gods, she actually did.  And she's leaning against you now, holding your hand... Merlin, she's so soft and warm. And she smells lovely. This can't be real.

   The final stop was approaching. He shook her gently. "Nearly there darling."

   Oh fuck. It had just slipped out. What the hell was wrong with him tonight? Had she noticed?

   The walk back to the castle from Hogsmeade was quiet, though he offered his arm as it was dark, and she happily took it. Seeing her to her chambers, he brought in her trunk and bags, lingering by the door. "Thank you for coming to dinner with me. It was lovely."

   "Thank you for taking me. It was lovely."

   They looked at each other for a moment, the air heavy with yearning between them. Fuck it.    He stepped forward, cupped her face in his hands once more, and kissed her, softly, one final time. "Sweet dreams." He left, shutting the door softly behind him.

   Stella floated into bed. She'd have to sleep on this before she could get her head together enough to update Mikey.

********

   He certainly wasn't a man who invited casual touch; most people sensed the invisible walls he kept around himself like a fortress, and wisely kept their distance. Whilst Stella wasn't the overly touchy sort, she seemed to think nothing of the occasional friendly contact. And to his great surprise, he found that he didn't mind. Once she had even put her hand on his back briefly whilst she was stood leaning over the staff table. A small bit of contact, lasting only seconds, but the moment played over and over in his mind for days. And he still thought about her hands in his hair, far more often than he'd ever admit. He wondered if she ever thought about him at all. Probably not; why would she? He still expected that she'd relent to Andrew or Carlos's overt flirtation any day now. They were handsome, outgoing, and Carlos especially had a real natural charm, sleazy as it was. It was only a matter of time, surely.

   "Have you seen the Hogsmeade chaperone schedule?" she asked him covertly over her coffee.  "I'm down with Carlos next time. Ugh..."

   Severus glanced down the table at the Spanish sod, who was busy bemoaning the lack of churros con chocolate in Scottish breakfast to Orion, who was nodding along congenially.  "I would offer to trade days, but I'm down with Ruth.  Though I expect she may keep her distance, if she's wise."

   Stella's giggle seemed to wrap around his heart, and he found himself gazing adoringly at her for a few seconds before coming to his senses.  Get yourself together for Merlin's sake.  How can a simple laugh make you lose all sense of reason?

********

   In his classroom later, he reluctantly laid out the supplies necessary for the first lesson of the day. It was one of the lessons he dreaded most: the day he had to teach sixth-years how to brew Amortentia.

   He'd never understood why the Ministry insisted on teaching this particular potion. Whilst it wasn't outright banned, it was banned for use at Hogwarts, for obvious reasons. Giving hormonal teenagers carte blanch to use the world's most powerful love potion would be disastrous. It was his own Potions teacher, Horace Slughorn, who had broached the idea with the Ministry back in Severus's student days. For some godforsaken reason, the Ministry had approved adding it to the curriculum. During his own tenure as Potions Master, he'd written to the Ministry on several occasions, outlining all the reasons it should be removed from the syllabus. But the Ministry had yet to see reason.

   He sighed deeply as the students entered, buzzing with excitement for todays' particular lesson. He knew he'd catch more than one of them trying to brew illicit batches in lavatories and broom cupboards in the near future.

   "Turn to page 243. There is to be absolutely no brewing of this particular portion outside of this classroom, is that clear?"

   The students nodded. A quick glance at the blackboard and the instructions appeared in his distinctive handwriting.

   The students got to work, decidedly more studious than normal. As the concoctions began warming up, there was more chatter than usual, with everyone talking about what particular scents they detected in the potion.

   Severus hated this part most of all. What he smelled hadn't changed since the very first time he'd brewed Amortentia in Slughorn's lesson: Rosewater, freshly cut apples, and a hint of Mrs. Evan's washing powder. He stood surveying the class, bracing himself for the onslaught of deeply buried feelings it would dredge up, just as it did every damn year.

   The potions began to simmer; he could see the steam begin to rise from each cauldron. Any minute now.

   "Sir, can you help? I've dropped my ink pot in my cauldron." Oh for gods sake, bloody dunderheads. He went over to the hapless student to assist, levitating the ink pot out of the steaming liquid. The scent of strawberries and honeysuckle lingered in the air.

   Strawberries and honeysuckle. The ink pot dropped back into the cauldron, splattering hot liquid onto the books and parchment nearby. Oh fuck.

   "Sir? Professor? Are you alright?" One of his Slytherin girls was looking at him with concern. "You've gone really pale suddenly."

********

Friday, 13th October 2000

   A loud knocking on her chamber door woke Stella abruptly sometime after midnight. She stumbled out of bed in a stupor, hurriedly throwing a thin kimono-style robe over the short satin nightdress she was wearing. She opened the door to find a group of frantic Gryffindors. "Please, Miss, Daniel's taken something, he's passed out!" She came out into the corridor to find Daniel Bloomburrow, a sixth-year student from her choir lesson, lain out on the floor.

   She hurried over and knelt down beside him. He didn't seem conscious. She began slapping him gently on the face. "Daniel! Daniel! Wake up!" He moaned slightly. Good, he's coming around. "Daniel, can you hear me? Hello? Wake up. I need you to tell me what you've taken. What did you take, Daniel?" He mumbled something incoherently. "Tell me again, what did you take?" He murmured again. "Blissbane." Shit.

   She looked up at the students crowded around them. "You," she pointed at one of the boys "Run as fast as you can and get Professor Snape. Knock really loudly on his door, tell him we need a Blissbane antidote. You," she gave orders to the others. "Go and get the Headmistress. You: Find Professor Blackwood. You: go in there and get a pillow from the sofa, and a wet tea towel from the kitchen. And you: help me move him onto his side." The students sprinted off in different directions. Stella and the remaining students rolled Daniel onto his side, into the recovery position she'd learned about in Muggle first aid training. She stayed kneeling by his head, talking to him and blowing cold air onto his face with her wand. He faded in and out of consciousness. God, please, someone hurry.

   Minerva appeared in the apparition alcove at last, followed closely by Severus, and then Orion. Severus dashed over with the antidote and poured it into Daniel's mouth. He sputtered, coughed, but finally came to, looking around wide-eyed.

   "We need to get him to hospital right away," Minerva said. "Severus, can you and Orion get him to the alcove?"

   They picked him up, Severus taking him under the arms whilst Orion picked up his legs, and headed to the apparition alcove.

   Minerva sent the remaining students back to Gryffindor house for Orion to deal with later.

   "I believe you may have helped save his life, Stella. I must go deal with this; will you be alright?"

Stella nodded, though she felt anything but.

   Minerva disappeared into the alcove. Stella picked up the cushion and tea towel and went back into her chambers, thoroughly shaken.

********

   Back in the hospital wing, the truth was discerned: the Gryffindor students had been out of bed and out of bounds, having a little party in a room on the fifth floor. Daniel had gotten the Blissbane off a dodgy bloke in Hogsmeade. Forbidden at Hogwarts, the Blissbane elixir induced euphoria, but was fatal in large doses. He'd taken a bit too much.

   Minerva sighed. There were going to be some very unhappy parents to deal with. "Thank you, Severus," she said. "Orion and I can take it from here. But would you please go check on Stella? I know this will have upset her."

   "Of course." He would have gone anyway, whether Minerva had asked or not.

********

   He knocked softly on her door. It creaked softly when he closed it behind him. "Hi. Are you alright?"

   She didn't say anything, but she clearly wasn't alright. She stood there, barefoot in her robe, hair rumpled from sleep, fear and worry etched on her face. Her eyes were welling up in that way he'd seen before. She looked like a lost child.

   He moved toward her, embracing her without thinking; she completely melted into him, breaking down into sobs against his chest. He held her close, one hand rubbing circles over her back. "Shhhh, it's alright. He will be alright," he said softly. "He won't feel very well for a few days, but he will be alright." He rested his cheek against the top of her head. "He has you to thank for it. You did all the right things."  Her tears left spots on his robes, her body heaving with sobs. He held her until she'd begun to quiet down. "You can visit him in a day or two, if you want." He felt her nodding against his chest.  "You should sit down. Let me get you some water." He settled her on the sofa, then went into the kitchen; returning with a glass of water, he sat beside her.

   "It's two in the morning," she said, the occasional light sob still punctuating her speech. "Do you sleep in those clothes, too?" A hint of a smile shone through her distress.

   He relaxed a bit. She must be feeling better if she were teasing him. "Not usually. I was... working late."

   "On a Friday night. You live a wild life, Professor."

   "I could say the same for you, Madam. All tucked up in bed. Though I suppose the nightlife in Hogsmeade probably doesn't hold a candle to New York."

   She smiled. "Ooh, it's a close second."

   "Are you... I mean, will you be alright? I can stay, if you want?"

   She was tempted to say yes; of course she wanted him to stay. But no, not like this.

"I'll be fine, really. You should get some sleep. You don't seem to do much of that lately."

   It was true. Though I certainly can't tell her why.  "If you're sure."

   Her hand found his, like that day when he told Ruth off in his office. "Thank you, really. You're always so good to me."

   He wanted to stay there like this forever. "It's nothing. If you need anything, please, just ask."

Stella went back to bed after he'd left, but couldn't sleep for a long time. Her mind raced. God, what if the worst had happened? What if he'd... I wouldn't be able to stand it. Not after... She tried thinking of anything else. Considering what might have happened to Daniel was too much. She turned her thoughts instead to him.

   For a man so many seem intimidated by, he's always been awfully sweet to me. I've probably completely put him off now though, breaking down like that. She scrunched her face in embarrassment and sighed, annoyed with herself. He probably only came because Minerva asked him to. "Go check on the unhinged American bint, will you?" She chuckled. Well, that's more like something Ruth would say. Anyway, get yourself together, this is the third time you've cried in front of him. Can't you be professional at all? He's your colleague. And he's brilliant and gorgeous and a real intellectual; what would he want with an emotional mess who spends her time singing songs and crying over every little thing.

********

   Severus returned to his chambers. He hadn't been working. He'd been trawling through a dozen obscure potions books from the library, looking for any possible reason why someone's Amortentia scent might change.

   It was futile. He bloody well knew there was only one reason. He just didn't want to admit it.

But after what had just transpired, he could deny it no longer. The way she'd melted into him, as if she actually needed him. The way it made him feel to be needed by her. The all-consuming need to comfort her, to take care of her... The realisation had hit him with the impact of a meteor, had blown what little was left of his carefully crafted facade into smithereens.

   I love her. Fuck.

********

Dear Stella,

I hope you received my gift, darling. I know it's going to look gorgeous on you. I can't wait to see you tomorrow. Meet me at seven for dinner at the Rune and Relic, and afterwards I'll show you my new place. We have so much to catch up on; it may be a long night.

XOXO

Stevie

   His heart fell to the floor. An invisible cannonball collided with his stomach. All thoughts of leaving a note vanished. He swept out of the room and thundered back toward the dungeons, raging thoughts storming through his mind.

   He reached his office, throwing open the door then slamming it shut. He paced around the room like a caged tiger, not knowing what to do with himself. Who is this man? How does she know him? They obviously have a history. Is he the reason she returned to the wizarding world? He's sent her a gift. She's going to his house!

   Rage slowly gave way to desolation. Why does it matter? You thought she was a friend? Dared to hope for more? She owes you nothing. You've had some light conversations, you've helped each other out with a few things. That's all. She's your colleague. You're the fool who can't stop thinking about her. Pathetic. Acting like a twelve year old boy with a crush, just because a pretty lady was nice to you.

   It dredged up old feelings long buried, like sickness brings up bile. He'd sworn to himself years ago that he would never again allow himself the audacity to hope... for what? Real friendship? Companionship? Love? It was obviously something never meant for him. Such feelings had brought nothing but pain and misery into his life; indeed, had helped set him on a life trajectory he wouldn't have wished on Voldemort himself.

   Perhaps if her mind had been open to him, he'd have been able to discern from the start that she had no feelings beyond professionalism for him. He could have squashed these ridiculous fancies before they took root in his head, spared himself the inevitable heartbreak.

   He sat listlessly at his desk. It occurred to him that he had never even had confirmation she was single. They'd never discussed it explicitly. Of course she wasn't; a woman like that? He'd been a complete fool. And even if she were, it was only a matter of time before one of those new handsome teachers charmed their way into her heart. He knew from experience it was just the way of the world. He'd been delusional to hope for anything different.

   He wondered if those damn pixies had taken out his stock of sleep draught. He badly needed some tonight.

********

Friday, 6th October 2000

   In her office after her final lesson of the day wrapped up, Stella spotted the folder she'd left in the staff room on her desk. Who had left it there? She wondered if it had been Severus. It seemed like the sweet kind of thing he'd do. She'd not seen him at all since breakfast yesterday. He hadn't come to dinner in the Great Hall last night, and he wasn't in his usual spot by the coffee at breakfast today, either. Nor had she encountered him in passing. She'd been disappointed each time. Maybe I can find an excuse to stop by his office tomorrow. Offer to help restock his cupboard or something.

   She quickly tidied away the odds and ends from the day's work and said a quick nox as she left the classroom. She wouldn't be seeing him at dinner tonight, either. She had evening plans to get ready for.

********

   It was purely by coincidence that Severus found himself in Hogsmeade just before seven o'clock that evening. He had a potions cupboard to restock, after all, and needed to purchase supplies. The fact that he'd skipped dinner to get there by seven had nothing to do with her. Nor did the fact that he found himself in a bookshop directly across the street from the Rune and Relic at precisely six-fifty. He always perused the bookshop when he was in Hogsmeade, didn't he?  Oh for the love of Merlin, you know why you're here, you pathetic sod.

   He stood near the front window of the bookshop, obscuring himself behind a tall display of children's books, poised like a cat watching a mousehole. And there she was, looking absolutely gorgeous in a red dress, hair and makeup done to the nines. She was holding a shopping bag from a nearby boutique called Bits of Lace. A lingerie shop. Was that his "gift?" He felt as if he were watching his own execution.

   Her face lit up; she'd spotted him. "Stevie!" She called out brightly, opening her arms ready to embrace...

   "Stella darling!" A woman in colourful robes came forward, meeting her embrace. They hugged, talking excitedly, then went into the restaurant.

   It took a moment to process what he'd just seen. Stevie was a woman. Clearly an old friend. And he was an absolute disgrace.

   Potions ingredients forgotten, he slunk out of the bookshop and made his way morosely back to the castle.

********

   Shame enveloped him as he sat dejectedly in his office, trying to make sense of his own emotions. Emotions. Hmpfh. Wasn't aware I still had any. In the space of twenty-four hours, he'd invaded her privacy, jumped to the most extreme conclusions, driven himself mad, and stalked her like a complete creep. It was completely out of line. She'd be disgusted if she knew - and rightly so. He was disgusted with himself.

   He thought himself an idiot for ever thinking there could be any spark of mutual interest between them. She'd been polite, that's all. And anyway, she deserved better than a bitter, jealous man with such a dark past. She was everything that was light and lovely in the world. She deserved someone who would lift her up, someone she could be proud to be seen with. Not an acerbic, sullen man who spent most of his time in a dungeon. Who would ever want someone so utterly broken?

   A knock interrupted his thoughts. It was one of his Slytherin girls. "Sorry to bother you, Sir, but I found this in your classroom today. I wanted to turn it in to you then, but you seemed a little... distracted?" She held out a silver bracelet.

   "Thank you, Miss Hutchence. I know who it belongs to; I'll make sure it's returned."

   He sat back down at his desk, staring at the bracelet. A collection of tiny charms adorned it; a book, an elephant, a witch's hat... the clasp was broken.  Stella's. He remembered her wearing it the last time they brewed together in the classroom. It must have fallen off.

   He would return it, but not tonight. He couldn't face her tonight. Just as well; she'd likely be out late anyway.

********

   Severus couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.  When she'd finished her coffee, he asked to speak with her privately.  She followed him out of the Great Hall, into the empty classroom where the incident with Carlos and his misfired spell had happened. Only took two whole days for the imbecile to reverse his dud charm, Severus thought. 

   "I can't help but notice you seem rather tired.  Is everything alright?" he asked, hoping his tone was gentle enough.

   "I'm fine.  I just haven't been sleeping well the past few nights."

   "Is something wrong?  Is your schedule too taxing?"

   "No, really, nothing related to work."

   "Is one of those idiotic new teachers bothering you?"

   "No more than usual," she replied with a tired smile.

   Severus stepped a bit closer, speaking softly.  "Something is wrong.  You... aren't yourself today. Please, tell me, perhaps I can help."

   Stella gave in to his tender concern.  "It's embarrassing really.  But... I have these recurring nightmares sometimes.  It's been a bad few nights and I guess it's catching up with me."

   Severus could empathise; he cartainly knew all about having nightmares.  "I see.  As it happens, I can help you.  If you'll stop by my office after lessons finish, I can give you something to assist."

   Stella was too exhausted to protest - and rather flattered that he'd offered. "Thank you.  I'll do that."

********

   The ornately cut crystal bottle on his desk contained a shimmering liquid of baby blue;  he knew it would help.  The taller bottle of elf-made wine... well, perhaps it would assist as well.  At the very least, if she accepted his offer to have a glass with him, it would prolong their converstation.  Is it too forward of me?  Will she think I have... ulterior motives?  A soft knock on the door interrupted his ruminations.  

   "Hi," he greeted her.  (He felt less awkward about the casual greeting now; it seemed to have become a thing between them.)  "Come in.  I'll just lock the door, so we aren't disturbed by any... nosey colleagues."

   "They really do turn up at the worst times, don't they?"

   "Indeed. Please, have a seat."  He gestured to an enormous cushiony armchair which had been pushed next to his desk.

   Stella sat, amused.  "What is this, one of Hagrids old chairs?"

   He took his seat behind the desk.  "Precisely.  I thought it might be nice to have a reading chair in the office.  I never do seem to find the time to use it, though."  

   Stella bounced on the cushiony seat a few times, like a Muggle child on a space-hopper.  "I could sleep on this. It's more of a sofa than a chair."

   "Be my guest, although you should have this first."  He picked up the ornate potions bottle and placed it delicately in front of her on the desk.  She picked it up, examining the light blue liquid inside with interest.  "It's a sleep draught, my own version.  I add an infusion of lemongrass, passion flower, and some powdered Ashwinder egg, among other things."

   "Oh," Stella remarked, watching the shimmery liquid swirl in the bottle.  "Sounds fancy.  It's a beautiful colour."

   "It took me years to get the right balance.  I don't care for regular Dreamless Sleep Draught, as it shouldn't be used regularly.  Dreaming is essential to the brain, even if the dreams are... less than pleasant.  The mugwort used in this one induces good dreams, instead of leaving one in a veritable coma for the night."

   She was impressed.  "You created this yourself?"

   He nodded.  "To be honest, I suffer from nightmares and insomnia myself.  Five drops should do the trick.  Take it just before going to bed."

    Stella sat the bottle back down and looked into his gorgeous dark eyes.  "You're... actually brilliant.  You should sell this.  You'd make millions."

   Severus smiled whistfully.  "Perhaps one day.  Anyway, it's been quite a day; I was going to have a glass of wine.  Would you care to join me? I understand if you are too tired, of course." 

   "Hmm.  I am tired, but I also can't say no to elf-made wine."

    Severus uncorked the bottle with finesse and poured two glasses, handing one to her.  "How did your film night go?" he asked, sincerely curious.

   She watched his hands as he served the wine.  God, even his hands are sexy. "It was good.  The students seemed to enjoy it.  Although, you'll be proud of me -  I had to take house points for the first time."

   "Oh? Not from Slytherin, I hope?"

   "No.  From Griffyndor and Ravenclaw.  Maria Foster and Jamie MacLeod wouldn't stop making out.  I can overlook a little snog here and there, but this was a bit over the top," she said, laughing mildly.  "I finally had to separate them.  I felt awful about it though.  It's a teenage rite of passage to make out in the cinema, isn't it."

   Severus scoffed.  "Well Madam, to your newfound disciplinary prowess." He lifted his glass in a toast.  She clinked her glass to his.  "It seems you are quite the golden girl of Hogwarts," he continued.  "Everyone has noticed how the students have reacted to you.  You seem to have a real knack for connecting with them."

   Stella was glad it was rather dim in the office; she felt sure she was blushing.  "That's really nice to hear.  I've... overheard a few things that haven't been so nice."  Her expression faltered.  "I've been in hearing distance of Ruth a few times when she wasn't aware."

    His distaste for the gossipy hag rose in his throat like bile.  He was, frankly, sick of her shit.  "What has she said?"  He asked, his voice serious.

   Stella gave an exasperated huff.  She hadn't mentioned this to anyone else, not wishing to cause drama.  But something about Severus made her feel like opening up.  "God, where do I start.  Well, there's the things she says to my face, which are bad enough.  But I've overheard her say other things:  My clothes are too much.  My accent is horrible.  Why did they hire an American.  I don't eat breakfast so I must have an eating disorder - she said she was going to tell Madame Pomfrey.  I'm too soft on the students. My lessons are pointless.  Oh, and the best one: I'm sleeping around with both Andrew and Carlos.  Apparently she saw me leaving Andrew's chambers late last night?  What the hell, I don't even know where his chambers are.  I didn't realise I was the Whore of Hogwarts."  She took a long sip of wine.  "Normally I wouldn't let this bother me.  It's so ridiculous. But maybe since I'm so tired these past few days, it's kind of getting to me.  I worry that it will get back to Minerva."

   Severus was seething inside.  Ruth had only been at Hogwarts since last school year, but in that time had left nothing but a negative impression.  She'd always been intolerable, but something about Stella seemed to take her gossipy rudeness into overdrive.

   "She's jealous," he said with a shrug.  "She's been nothing but a gossipy hag since day one.  She's always trying to look good in front of Minerva by putting other people down.  But I can assure you, Minerva sees right through her.  In fact, I would wager she is actively looking for a reason to sack her.  Please don't let it bother you.  I've heard nothing but praise about you from the rest of the staff."  

   Stella relaxed a bit.  Whether due to what he'd said, or the wine, or just the effect of his seductive voice, she wasn't sure.  "That's sweet of you to say.  This -" she lifted her empty wine glass - "was lovely.  And I'm sure this will be too."  She picked up the potion bottle.  "I should go, I'm exhausted.  Thank you for everything, really."  

   "It's no trouble.  I hope the potion helps.  As for this - " he lifted the half-drunk bottle of wine - "Perhaps you would be so kind as to help me finish it?  Tomorrow, after lessons? You can let me know how the potion worked."

   A warm thrill went through her.  "Sure, sounds good. Goodnight."

   He bid her goodnight and unlocked the door for her, closing it behind her and listening as her footsteps faded.  Orion's words echoed through his mind.  She really is lovely, isn't she.

********

Friday, 22nd September 2001

   He'd left his office door half-open. Unusual for him, but he wasn't planning to be long.

He heard the tapping of ladies' heels approaching. The sound had an involuntary effect on him, like those dogs in a Muggle psychology experiment he'd once read about. Stella. "Hi, can I come in?"

   "Of course." She entered, closing the door behind her, and stood near his desk, looking a bit out of sorts. "Sorry to bother you, but do you have anything for a headache?"

   Poor love. He hated seeing her unwell. "Certainly." He stood to go into his cupboard, but there was a sharp rap at the door.

   "Please, help yourself, it's on the third shelf on the left." He gestured toward the cupboard and went to answer the door.

   Stella went into the cupboard, scanning the shelf for the potion. She could hear the visitor's voice in the office: Ruth. Ugh. She decided to stay hidden in the cupboard until she'd gone.

   "Minerva asked me to collect your class marks, Snape. Did you forget they were due last week?"

   "It must have slipped my mind." He sat at his desk and rifled through a stack of parchment, looking for the paperwork. Ruth kept up a stream of inane chatter. He wasn't listening fully until he heard mention of Stella.

   "...and she's always tottering around on those high heels! She's going to end up with a twisted ankle, all for the sake of trying to look cute enough to land a boyfriend."

   Severus stopped his parchment shuffling and gave her a pointed look.

   "What?" Ruth barked. "You've noticed it, surely? The way she dresses? Every day, some frou-frou get-up, hair and makeup and manicure done, and always in those heels. Where does she think she is, Paris Fashion Week? How can she teach in those bloody things, anyway?"

   He raised his brow. "I didn't realise it was a crime to look nice at work." He said matter-of-factly. "Jealousy isn't becoming of you, Professor."

   "What? Jealousy?" Ruth balked.  "Why would I be jealous of her?"

   Severus shrugged, and looked her straight in the eye. "Because she's younger? Because she's intelligent and personable and well-liked by everyone? Because she is by far the most beautiful woman in the castle? Because the students adore her, and the Headmistress is thrilled with her work? Because her colleagues all sing her praises?"

   Ruth had no retort; she could only sputter.

   "All but you, of course. She knows the things you say about her. The things you say to her face, and the even more horrible things you say behind her back. Oh yes, she knows. And yet, she has treated you with nothing but professionalism and kindness." His voice deepened even further, slowing down to fully enunciate each word. "It would behoove you to have even a modicum of such grace, Professor. Tell me, exactly when in your life did you decide to become such a bitter, meddlesome, jealous hag?"

   Ruth, for possibly the first time in her life, was left speechless. She turned, stunned, and flounced out of the office faster than Severus had ever seen her move.

   "She's gone," he called. Stella stepped gingerly out of the cupboard, wide-eyed. Does he really mean all those things he said?

   "I... feel like you've just slain a dragon in my honour." She came to the desk and took his hand in both of hers, squeezing appreciatively. "Thank you."

   Severus felt giddy, both from finally putting that gossipy hag in her place, and from Stella's touch. "Oh, the pleasure was indeed all mine."

 ********

   Severus was seated at a long table in the staff room, waiting for the first staff meeting of the year to begin.  Minerva sat at the head of the table, talking animatedly with Professor Blackwood, Head of Griffyndor House and History of Magic teacher.  Professor Binns had finally gotten the sack a few years ago when an entire group of second-years had fallen so deeply asleep in one of his classes that they'd missed their next two lessons.  Binn's could still be found hanging about in the old History classroom, and woe be unto anyone who happened to pop in; they'd be in for a very dull lecture on Goblin Rebellions or The Great Pygmypuff Trade War of 1573. Orion Blackwood was a kindly man in his mid-fifties.  Soft-spoken, but passionate about his subject, and once he got going he told one hell of a story.  

   Ruth stood by the tea tray, eating biscuits whilst whispering to Beth, no doubt passing judgment on everyone in the room. Beth was a nice enough woman, but Ruth was always up her arse. Beth, perhaps too timid to do anything about it, tolerated Ruth's presence admirably.

   The two new professors were sitting further down the table. Andrew Harrison, who'd replaced Madame Hooch for flying lessons and sports, was the typical handsome jock sort.  He had a clean-cut, wholesome look, and an athletic build, of course.  Carlos Ramirez, a dashing man in his mid-thirties, was the new Charms professor.  He'd come from Spain, where he was said to be highly regarded for his work with light and sound charms.  Severus thought he had the sleazy manner of a man who is well-aware that he is good-looking.  Observing them at the table, he was glad he'd allocated the nicest chambers to Stella, rather than one of these gits.

   The door opened, and Stella walked hesitantly in, resplendent in long robes of deep purple.  She scanned the room timidly, relief brimming when she spotted Severus at the table, with an empty seat beside him.  She walked over.

   "Hi.  Do you mind?" she said, gesturing at the empty chair.

   "Not at all." She sat down, seeming a bit unnerved as she looked around the room.

   "Are you... alright?" Severus whispered.  She let out a short breath and whispered back.

   "I'm ok, its just... I'm actually kind of shy. A room full of new people is my nightmare."

   "Not to worry, Minerva will do all the talking.  It will be over soon, and then you're free until the ceremony tonight.  If it helps, I can save you a seat by me at the staff table?"

   "Please. Thank you, you're a lifesaver."

   The meeting was, as he had predicted, over quickly enough.  Minerva introduced the new members of staff, which caused Stella a fleeting moment of panic; she thought she might have to introduce herself in front of everyone.  But no, Minerva moved quickly on, though she was interrrupted by Carlos, who insisted on effusively thanking her for giving him the opportunity, and giving his new colleagues a full run-down of his experience.  What a continental wanker, Severus thought.

   After the monologue from Carlos, Minerva went over the schedule for the night's festivities, and the meeting was over.  Severus was about to offer to escort Stella back to her chambers, but Carlos stood from his seat and shot over like a bullet.

   "Señorita Rosenbaum, I am so enchanted to make your aquaintence."  He put out his hand; Stella took it, expecting the normal handshake.  Instead, he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. Her face remained neutral, but Severus reckoned he could guess what she was really thinking.  "I believe we will be working closely, you and I.  I have a wealth of knowledge about sound charms that will be useful in your music lessons.  And you will also teach dance?  My father was a famous flamenco dancer, it is in my very blood."

   "Oh, thank you, it's nice to meet you as well.  Yes, I'm looking forward to starting lessons.  I'll be sure to find you if I need any assistance."

   "My charms, they are as the English say, world-renowned.  I would be glad to share with you my knowledge."

   "Fascinating.  Well, I won't take up any more of your time, Professor.  Lovely to meet you."

   "All the same, mi encantadora dama."  He pranced away, leaving Stella to stuggle with holding back a laugh.  

   "You got rid of him quickly.  Impressive," Severus said, his voice low.

   "Old trick my Granny taught me.  Comes in handy with annoying men. If you play it right, they don't even realise they've been spurned."

   "Your Granny was a smart woman.  Were you going back to your chambers?  I was heading to the library anyway, I don't mind walking you back."

   "Yes, thanks, that would be nice."

   Before they could reach the door, Professor Harrison bounded over with the energy of a labrador.  "Hello, Andrew Harrison, nice to meet you!"  Stella shook his hand.  She noticed he didn't offer an introduction to Severus, even though he was standing right beside her.  "If you ever want to watch a Quidditch practice, just let me know!"

   "Oh, thank you ever so.  I don't care much for sports.  But it's lovely to meet you." 

   His face fell a bit; obviously the card he'd played hadn't quite worked.  "You too.  Maybe I'll see you around this weekend?"

   "Maybe.  We were just heading out now, but we'll see you at the ceremony tonight."  She linked her arm in Severus's and they made their way out the door.

   Once in the corridor she let go of his arm.  "Sorry, I just had to get out of there.  Thanks for playing along."

   Severus wished she hadn't let go.  "Always a pleasure, Señorita."

********

   The evening came, and with it a new crop of first-year students, along with the returnees.  Stella changed into some new robes she'd bought in Hogsmeade; black this time, with long flowy sleeves and lace trim.  She cast one of her favorite styling charms on her hair, and it swooped into an updo of elegant waves.  She went for an evening makeup look, and picked out some matching jewelry.  As good as it's gonna get, she thought.  At least that awful wench Ruth couldn't accuse her of looking like a Muggle tonight.

   When she entered the Great Hall, the tables were already filling with students.  Headmistress McGonagall sat at centre of the staff table, her new colleagues filling the other seats.  The Hall was magnificent.  She'd only seen it in the daytime before.  Tonight, hundreds of floating candles cast a soft amber glow over the grand room, the ceiling enchanted to look like the evening sky.  It was incredibly beautiful.  She felt so damn lucky to be here.  If she wasn't careful, she might cry.

   She took a breath to ground herself, then made her way up between the student tables, smiling and offering soft greetings to the students as she passed by. The first years looked nervous, but excited; the older students were happily chattering away with their friends.  

   She spotted Severus at the table, with a free seat beside him, as promised.  God, he looks so damn gorgeous in this light, she thought.  

   Severus watched furtively as Stella made her way to the table.  She'd changed clothes; she was radiant.  All the boy students were looking, whispering to each other.  He glanced over at the other side of the staff tables; Andrew and Carlos both had their eyes locked on her.  Professor Blackwood, seated to his right, had spotted her as well, but was more gentlemanly about it.  "She's quite lovely, isn't she?" he said with the innocent air of a man who is just stating the obvious. 

   Stella climbed the stone steps up to the staff tables, and took her seat by Severus.  "Thank you so much," she whispered, lightly touching his arm. A jolt of warmth spread through his chest.

   The Sorting Ceremony took a bit longer than usual.  The hat seemed to get quite hung up on a set of triplets called Levi, Lucas, and Leon Bradbury, eventally sorting them all into different houses.  Stella gave Severus a small grin when Lucas was sorted into Slytherin.  They were all listed on the roster for her Small Group Performance class, so she wondered what they'd be like.

   The ceremony eventually concluded, and the feast began.  The food was ambrosial; the house-elves had truly outdone themselves.  Stella spoke quite a bit with Professor Sinistra, seated to her left, about her plans for that year's astronomy lessons.  There were due to be several meteor showers, a blood moon, and a lunar eclipse over the school year.  Aurora Sinistra was also a very fashionable lady; Stella complimented her outfit, and they ended up talking about designers and the best places to shop for ages.  

   Severus was glad to see Stella so pleasantly engaged with a colleague other than himself.  Ruth had been so horrid to her,  and those two new morons had all but wolf-whistled at her.  And whilst she'd seemed not to mind his company, he wasn't exactly a fountain of knowledge on music or fashion.  It occurred to him that with the new term officially starting on Monday, he may not be seeing her much.  After all, with the hopsital stores now restocked, what business did the Potions Master and the Music Professor have together?  He would probably only see her in passing, or at staff meetings.  Perhaps at dinner, if she chose to dine in the Great Hall. He felt a bit forlorn at the thought.

   The evening came to a close, and it was time for the students to head to their dormitories.  As the staff filed out, heading to their own chambers, Stella stopped him in the corridor. 

   "I just wanted to say thank you again, for everything.  You've been so kind to me since I got here.  It's been lovely, really.  Good luck with your Slytherins, and with your lessons."

   "It's been a pleasure.  Same to you; all the best with your lessons.  I know the students are going to be thrilled."

   Stella smiled, bid him good night, and made her way down the corridor.  He couldn't recall anyone ever thanking him for being kind. Did she really feel that way? The sentiment surprised him. Perhaps she was just being polite. He watched her until she turned a faraway corner, wondering when he'd see her again.

   "Professor?"  A Slytherin prefect interrrupted his thoughts.  "Shall we take the students to their dormitories?"

********

Monday, 4th September 2000

   Stella spent the weekend before start of term finally getting her chambers in order.  The spare bedroom made an absolutely perfect walk-in wardrobe, and she even had extra space for more clothes.  She'd just have to do more shopping. What a shame.

   Monday brought the start of lessons.  She waited in her office as the first students arrived for Choir class.  Once everyone was there, she gave herself a little pep talk (you've done this a million times, its gonna be fine,) and entered the classroom.  The students were seated on the choral risers; a mix of years and houses, as all of her lessons were.  Stella stood by the piano and greeted them.  She could hear a few whispered snippets; She's fit! Better than ol' Flitwick, eh? Shut up, Robbie, don't be gross.

   The class went well, she thought.  She'd spent the time just talking to the students, learning their names, and asking them what kind of music they wanted to do.  They seemed a bit reluctant to give their opinions at first.  Apparently their previous music choices had all been decided for them.  Stella smiled at them.  "Okay, let's start here:  who makes better music, Wizards or Muggles?  Show of hands, who thinks Wizards make the best music? Don't worry, be honest."  A few students raised their hands.  "Who thinks Muggles make better music?"  The majority of the class raised hands.  Stella raised her own hand, too.  "I think so too, although there is some really good Wizard music out there.  Now, just because this is a choir, that doesn't mean it has to be stuffy and boring.  You can make pretty much anything into a choral performance.  There are much better songs out there than the Hogwarts school song... no offense."  The students giggled. 

   "Right, for your homework, please fill out this survey.  It's about you, what kind of music you like and don't like, what kind of things you want to do.  It's a brand new programme, and I've been given a lot of freedom to change things up.  But it's your lessons, so I want your input.  Please be honest with your answers."  She passed out sheets of parchment, which the students looked over eagerly.  "Turn them in to the postbox by the classroom door, by Wednesday, please.  I want to look them over before our next lesson. That's all for today, thank you for being so lovely on my first day."

   Her next two lessons went smoothly as well, and she got to meet the triplets who'd gotten the Sorting Hat into such a tizzy in Small Group Performace class.  They told her that they liked to sing as a group, and she asked if they felt up to giving a short demo.  They did, breaking into a damn near pitch-perfect rendition of a Backstreet Boys song.  The class was astonished, the girls giggling and whispering behind their hands.  Stella was delighted.  She'd need to find them a place to practice, as they weren't going to be together in the same house.  

   As her last class before lunch was packing up to leave, a house-elf appeared at the front door to the classroom. "Weeble begs your pardon, Professor Rosenbaum! Weeble hopes he is not interrupting.  Weeble has been asked to bring this to Professor Rosenbaum."  He hurried up the stone floor toward the end of the room, carrying a vase of beautiful flowers nearly the same size as him.

   He put the bouquet on the floor near the piano with a distinct plunk.  It was a lovely arrangement of gerber daisies in shades of blue and purple, charmed so that tiny golden butterflies floated prettily around the blooms.  Stella was stunned; who had sent this to her?  

   "Um, thank you, Weeble, that's lovely."  Weeble bowed, then turned and skipped out of the room.

   The class was all aflutter, everyone speaking at once.  "Miss, who sent you that?  Miss, do you have a boyfriend? Is it your birthday? Oooh I bet its a secret admirer! Read the card, Miss, who's it from?"

   Stella laughed.  "No idea guys, I'm just as confused as you are. Anyway, it's time for lunch, I'll see you in our next lesson."

   The students filed out, still chattering about who could have sent the flowers to the pretty new teacher.  Stella took the flowers into her office, closed the door, and opened the card.  A message was written in a familiar cursive hand:

Stella,

Thank you again for your help with the brewing.  Your assistance was truly indispensable.  I hope your first lessons have gone well.

Severus

********

   That night at dinner, Severus arrived late, held back dealing with some naughty Hufflepuffs he'd found throwing stink bombs into a girls' lavatory.  Stella was already seated at the staff table, flanked on either side by Andrew and Carlos.  The only seat left was on the other end of the table, by Ruth.  Ugh.  He sat down, steeling himself for a less than enjoyable dinner.

   Ruth spent most of the meal prattling on at Beth, seated on her other side.  Severus tried minding his own business, but she was impossible to tune out.  He glanced down the table at Stella, who was conversing with Andrew and Carlos, though he felt certain this was just her good manners at play.  Or at least, he hoped so.

   Stella glanced over and caught his eye.  "Thank you," she mouthed, "for the flowers."  She gave him a warm smile.  He nodded in return, casting his eyes at her seatmates.  She rolled her eyes to let him know she wasn't exactly enjoying the company.

   Ruth was still blathering away at Beth.  "Look at her down there, making goo-goo eyes at those new teachers.  You know, I heard her calling students by their first names today! Can you believe it?  It's just not the done thing.  And word is that someone sent flowers to her classroom.  I reckon it was Carlos, he seems the sort.  I knew it wouldn't take long before-" 

   "Gossiping about her already?" Severus interrupted.  "That seems unfair.  You hardly know her."

   Ruth turned in her seat.  "Well, one thing I do know, I reckon she's not even going to last as long as the last Yank teacher we had.  They never last long."

   Severus gave her a cold look.  "You seem awfully sure of a lot of things, Professor."

********

   She'd spent the past few days organising her classroom, planning her first few weeks worth of lessons and looking through the notes Professor Flitwick had left about his choir and brass band students. She was not the sort to procrastinate; she functioned best when well-prepared.

   This left her with around a week of free time before the students arrived. Which was just as well; her chambers were still in shambles - she'd neglected this in favour of prepping for lessons. And she wanted to spend some time shopping in Hogsmeade. It's had been ages since she'd had the chance to shop for wizarding clothes.

   She decided to take the long way back to her chambers, and stop by the staff room en route. There were always fresh biscuits and tea there, and she could drop off copies of her lesson plans in Minerva's inbox.

   She made her way through the castle corridors, revelling in the quiet majesty of the place. More than magical; the castle seemed almost to be alive. The talking portraits, the moving staircases, the enchanted statues; it all added to the impression that Hogwarts was a living, breathing entity. She'd spent hours just wandering around aimlessly, trying to commit the layout to memory, peering into all sorts of rooms and taking in all the wondrous sights.

   She hadn't seen a single soul for the past few days, not since her walk through the castle with Professor Snape. Minerva had sent a note by owl saying that she would be staying in London until tomorrow, and she'd not encountered anyone else at all. It didn't bother her. She didn't get lonely easily, and she'd had plenty to do.

   She couldn't deny the flutter in her stomach when she entered the staff room; there he was - Professor Snape, looking like the epitome of her dream man in his billowing black robes, sat by the teapot looking warily at a very long piece of parchment.

********

   Severus heard someone approach the table and glanced up. Stella, looking lovely in a dark blue dress. Just an observation, nothing more. "Hi," he greeted her. Oh gods, not again, you imbecile.

   "Hi," she replied, concern in her voice. "Are you okay? You look a little stressed."

   He gave a brief sigh. "I don't suppose you're any good at brewing potions, are you?"

   "I'm not half bad, I guess. Why?"

   "It seems there has been a pixie infestation in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey arrived yesterday to find the medicinal potions stock had been completely destroyed. There's nothing left. Everything must be replenished before the students arrive. The list is a mile long. I'll be brewing day and night to get it sorted." He rested his head on one hand, his inky black hair falling over his face, and gazed at the parchment with a heavy sigh.

   Stella felt terrible for him. A week before start of term, and all this to deal with. "I can help, if you want."

   Severus looked up. "I couldn't ask you to do that. I'm sure you have plenty of your own preparation to do before the students arrive."

   Stella patted the stack of parchment she was holding. "No, I actually just finished my lesson plans, and my classroom is all sorted. I've got nothing but free time."

   Severus was impressed. Most of the staff hadn't even returned to the castle yet, and here she was already prepared for the start of term. Well-prepared, attentive to duty, good initiative, willingness to help, he added to his mental dossier. If she had been a Hogwarts student, she'd surely have been in Ravenclaw. Had anyone else offered, he'd likely have refused, but... he wasn't sure why, but the thought of being around her wasn't entirely off-putting.  Odd, that.  He was not a man who sought out the presence of others; in fact, he preferred solitude, particularly when brewing.  Well, it is a daunting task, and a second pair of hands would be useful.  She offered; it would be rude to refuse, he thought, pushing any thoughts of how pleasant it actually was to be around her to the deepest corners of his mind.  It's school business, nothing more.

   "I see. In that case, if you truly don't mind, I was going to start tomorrow morning. I'll need to visit the greenhouses and the Hogsmeade apothecary today to get the necessary ingredients. Shall we meet tomorrow at nine? The Potions classroom will be most suitable. We will need to have multiple cauldrons brewing."

   Stella smiled. "Sure. I'll be there."

   "Thank you. You really don't have to do this."

   "Don't worry, I'm glad I can help. Well, I have some shopping to do myself today, but I'll see you tomorrow."

   She left, leaving her lesson plans for the Headmistress on the way out. She'd forgotten all about the tea and biscuits she'd come for. The prospect of spending more time with Professor Snape made her feel giddy. Oh grow up, for gods sake. Yeah, maybe he's attractive but he is your colleague. You'd better focus on not screwing up potions in front of THE Potions Master.

   Right, she thought. Shopping. She made her way to the castle's main entrance, looking forward to some retail therapy in Hogsmeade.

   As she approached the castle's main entrance door, she heard voices. Two women were standing amid a collection of travel trunks. One of them was speaking rather brusquely to some house-elves. "Go on then, take these to our chambers. Surely you don't need directions?"

   "No, Professor Schmidt, Beanie knows exactly where to go! We will move these right away for Professor Schmidt and Professor Sterling!" The elves scurried off in two directions, ferrying the trunks to their owners' respective chambers.

   Professor Schmidt was a short, stocky woman, dressed in drab brown robes which fit her rather like a potato sack. Her short black hair was peppered with grey, her tiny brown eyes regarding the elves with contempt. She turned to the other woman, a rather nondescript, slender entity with long brown hair and large tortoiseshell glasses, and sucked her teeth.

   "I hope they're quick about it. I'm starving for lunch." She spotted Stella approaching. "And who might you be?"

   Stella was caught off guard by her curt tone. "Oh, hello. I'm Stella, Stella Rosenbaum. I've come to teach Music here. It's nice to meet you." Stella put her hand out; Professor Schmidt shook it briefly, releasing it with a slight recoil as if it were slimy.

   "Ruth Schmidt. Arithmancy. This is Beth Sterling, Muggle Studies." Stella didn't fail to notice that she hadn't returned the hello or the nice to meet you.

   Stella shook Beth's hand, and they exchanged pleasantries. Beth was soft-spoken, meek. But she seemed to possess basic manners, at least.

   Ruth looked Stella up and down, her face tinged with disdain. "Oh yes, the Music programme. The Ministry's latest fluff piece. Well, our last American professor didn't last very long, so best of luck to you, dearie."

   Though she was offended by Ruth's overt rudeness, Stella faked a warm smile, remembering what her Granny had always said: you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. "Thank you. I love it here already. Really looking forward to meeting the students. Well, I'm just on my way out, but it was lovely to meet you both. I'm sure I'll see you again soon."

   Beth gave a polite hum in response, but Ruth didn't return any niceties. After a silent beat awkwardly passed, Stella exited the castle, bemused at what had just occurred. She knew exactly what her Granny would have said about such a rude woman: "Bless her heart, she ain't got no home trainin'."

********

   Severus was taking stock of the potions stores, Madame Pomfrey's list in hand, when there was a sharp rap at his office door. Before he could bid the caller to come in, Ruth opened the door abruptly.

   "Snape, I need an indigestion potion," she demanded.

   Severus groaned inwardly. That ill-mannered, irritating tone could only belong to one person: Ruth Schmidt, the tactless Arithmancy Professor.

   "Lovely to see you too, Professor." he said cattily before turning around. Ruth Schmidt. A complete troll of a woman. "It was nice, thank you. How was yours?"

   "Huh? Oh right, yeah, fine." She stood there like a lump, hand on her hip. Does someone shaped like a potato even have hips?

   "Let me see what I have." He walked over to his potions cupboard and started scanning the shelves. Ruth followed, standing near the cupboard door, chattering in her grating voice as he searched.

   "I've just met the new Music teacher. Another bloody Yank, can you believe it? Dunno who she thinks she is traipsing about in those fancy clothes. Music programme, how utterly useless."

   Severus took a small vial from a shelf and turned to face her. "Ah, yes. Miss Rosenbaum. She arrived last week. Personally, I have found her to be quite pleasant. I believe the students will be thrilled with the new programme, and with their new professor." He handed her the vial. "Now if you don't mind, I'm quite busy at the moment."

   "Busy rummaging in your likkle cupboard? Well you have fun with that." She turned and waddled out of the office, closing the door behind her with a slam.

   Severus bit back his disgust and returned to the task at hand. Some things never change.

********

   Stella spent the afternoon perusing the shops of Hogsmeade, trying on clothes and buying far more than she had planned on, as usual. Wizards really do make beautiful clothes, she thought. She was heading towards the Three Broomsticks for a much needed drink, and was passing by the apothecary when who should be exiting the shop but Professor Snape, carrying a number of large bags.

   "Fancy meeting you here." Severus looked up; there she was, looking as lovely as she had that morning, laden with an impressive amount of shopping bags. He found himself surprisingly pleased to see her. Normally running into a colleague outside of school would have annoyed him, but he felt almost... glad to see her?

   "Hi." Oh for the love of... "Doing your part for the wizarding economy, I see."

   Stella chuckled. "Mmm-hmm. Wouldn't want the whole thing to collapse."

   Severus felt his mouth forming the tiniest smile. "I was just collecting the things we'll need for tomorrow. I'll let you get back to your shopping."

   "Oh, I think I've done more than enough damage for today. I was just off for a quick drink before I head back."  She paused. Do I dare? Oh go on, it's just a drink. "Can I buy you one? As a thank you for showing me around? If you have time, of course."

   Severus gave a genuine, albeit small smile. It was a bit of a shock; he couldn't recall ever having been offered a drink by an attractive woman. "No, thank you. But please, allow me to buy you one, as a thank you in advance for your help."

   She wondered if she was blushing. Christ, could he be any more perfect? "Oh, well... if you insist."

   "I do. Let me take some of these for you." He reached out and took several of her bags. "Shall we?"

   They found a quiet table in the pub, and Stella surprised him by ordering an Ogdens Old firewhisky, neat. "I like the burn," she told him, shrugging her shoulders.

   Severus regarded her over his drink. He couldn't deny that some small part of him took satisfaction in being seen having a drink with a pretty lady. It wasn't exactly something that happened often... or ever.

   "I feel I owe you an apology. It occurs to me that I haven't been a very good host. I've left you completely on your own for the past few days."

   "No, it's fine, really. I've had tonnes to do. There seem to be a few others trickling in, though. I met Beth and... Ruth, earlier today."

   Severus groaned. "Yes, Ruth stopped by - or rather, barged into - my office. I should have warned you beforehand."

   Stella leaned in over the table, whispering conspiratorially. "Is she always such a raging bitch?"

   His dark eyes looked into hers with a mirthful gleam rarely seen from the serious Potions Master. "No. Usually she's much worse."

********

Friday, 24th August 2000

   Stella arrived at the potions classroom promptly at nine the next morning. The room had been prepared with a cauldron at each desk, ingredients neatly laid out by each. Severus stood at the teacher's desk, thumbing through a textbook. Looking luscious, she thought.

   "Morning." she said cheerily, holding up a large thermos. "Coffee?"

   Severus looked up and took in the sight. She was wearing Muggle clothes today: jeans (form-fitting; just an observation) with a series of rips down the front, a black Iron Maiden concert t-shirt, and black trainers. Converse; he recognised the brand from his youth in the Muggle world. Her hair was in two French plaits either side, her face rather bare; minimal makeup today. Gods. He thought. Why is she so cute in Muggle clothes?

   "Good morning." Thank Merlin, not the insipid hi this time. "Thank you again for agreeing to help." His eyes travelled down to her ripped jeans. "Did you... encounter a graphorn on the way?"

   There it was; that dry wit he brandished like a weapon. Stella found it captivating. Nothing was more attractive than a person who possessed true wit, and she'd always been a sucker for a dry sense of humour.

   She looked down at her jeans and laughed. "It's called artfully distressed denim, daaahhling."

   He cocked an eyebrow. "Jeans and an Iron Maiden t-shirt? How very Muggle of you."

   "You know Iron Maiden?"

   "I'm familiar."

   "Hmm. How very Muggle of you."

   Severus paused; had he offended her?

   She stared at him for a beat, eyebrows raised, then her face relaxed into a smile. Not offended then. Good. "Anyway, I can't risk ruining my vintage couture with an errant potion, now can I?"

   "Perish the thought. I thought we could start with some basic wound-cleanser, then work on Pepperup later in the day."

   "Sure."

   With a flick of his wand, the instructions for the wound-cleaning potion appeared on the blackboard in his neat cursive penmanship.

   "Thanks," Stella said. "I'm sure you can brew these in your sleep."

   "Hmpfh. I'll need to, if the hospital stores are to be restocked in time."

   Stella got to work, going down a line of ten cauldons one-by-one, methodically following the steps. It was a simple potion, easy enough to brew in multiples if one was focused. After some time she reached a lull; the potions now needed to simmer for twenty minutes undisturbed.

Severus had reached the same place with his own cauldrons, and drew nearer to inspect Stella's work.

   "Not bad," he intoned, scrutinising the softly bubbling liquid in one of her cauldrons.

   "High praise, coming from you. It's pretty nerve-wracking doing this in front of you. It's been ages since I've brewed anything."

   "Not a high demand for magical potions in the Muggle world, is there?"

   "Yeah, you could say that."

   He paced slowly back toward his own cauldrons, turning back toward her. "How did you end up here at Hogwarts? From New York, I mean. From the Muggle world."

   Stella drew a deep breath. "Well, the short answer is, I saw the job advertisement and I applied. The slightly longer answer is, I just thought it was time for a fresh start. New millennium, I'm turning thirty soon, and the war is finally over... it seemed safe to come back. So, here I am."

He considered her response. Thirty? He'd assumed she was younger. But that had been based purely on looks. It made sense. She had a bit more confidence and seemed more mature than someone in their early twenties.

   "And the long, long answer?"

   Stella looked down into the cauldon. "Not to be dramatic, but that's..." she drew a breath, then let it out slowly. "...a story for some other time." She looked back at him, and smiled softly.

   He was intrigued, but didn't push. "You were Muggle-born, I presume? Are you the only witch in your family?"

   "Yes, only one I know of, anyway. My mom always said my great-grandma could do things, but Meemaw died when I was little. I only have a few memories of her."

   Something about her accent changed on the word Meemaw. Severus raised an eyebrow. "Meemaw?"

   Stella's soft smile came back. "Yeah, most Americans in the south have a Meemaw or a Mamaw in the family."

   "I thought you were from New York?"

   "Well, I've live there most of my adult life, but no. I'm from North Carolina."

   "Ahh, that makes sense then."

   "What does?"

   "Why your accent isn't completely atrocious."

   She couldn't stop a small grin from appearing on her face. "Whoa, careful. That was almost a compliment." Stella was... flattered, actually. She knew British people sometimes found American accents grating. Hell, she found certain American accents grating.

    From the corridor came a shuffle of feet, and a head popped through the doorway: Ruth. Ugh.

"Well isn't this sweet. Giving a lesson to the new little teacher, Snape?"

   Severus didn't look up. "Can I help you with something, Professor?"

   "Oh I was just passing by. Look at you, Miss... Rosewater? Rosemeyer? Rose-whatever. Don't you look like a proper little Muggle today."

   Stella gave another of her fake smiles. "Lovely to see you again, Ruth."

   Ruth slid into the room like a slug. "Our new Charms and Sports professors have arrived. Two young, handsome lads. They're going to be all over this one like spots on a ladybird," she said, pointing at Stella. "I reckon you'll soon stop spending time in the dungeons with this grumpy old bat."

   Severus put down the ladle he was holding with a distinct clink and looked Ruth dead in the eye. His voice was cold, each word enunciated with razor sharpness. "If you don't mind, Professor, we are in the middle of brewing stock for the hospital wing. I'm sure you have important matters to attend to yourself."

   Ruth rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, you're very busy and important, aren't you," she said flippantly. "Enjoy yourselves. Perhaps our new Music teacher will sing you something pretty."

   Stella watched her leave the room, then turned back to Severus, stunned at the audacity of it all.  He shook his head, exasperated. "She really is in rare form today."

   "I'm... speechless. Just as well; it's time to add the arrowroot."

   They each worked their way down their line of cauldrons. As Stella was adding the finely ground powder to her last one, Severus spoke, his voice ever so slightly tinged with concern. "I hope I have not offended you, calling you a Muggle or commenting on your clothing?"

   Finding his concern very sweet, Stella answered, "No, no. Don't worry. There's a difference between dry wit and outright rudeness. You haven't been rude to me. Not at all."

   Severus was relieved.  Not one who typically cared what other people thought of him, he found himself in the strange position of not wanting to offend Stella. He'd found the time they'd spent together rather... enjoyable.  More than that; he found himself looking forward to seeing her. For professonal reasons only, nothing more, he told himself.  

   "Now that wench..." Stella laughed. "I guess I'd be more offended if it weren't so damn funny. Good lord, my Granny would slap me from beyond the grave if I was ever that rude to someone I'd just met. She must have been raised by trolls."

********

   Over the next week, Stella and Severus spent every day brewing for the hopsital.  He handled the more complicated potions, but her assistance with the others was indispensable.  There was no way in hell he'd have been able to brew the sheer volume required in just one week.  

   Stella arrived at the potions classroom promptly each morning with a flask full of what she called "fancy coffee."  I had a short-lived stint at a place called Starbucks, she'd explained. Awful job, but I did learn to make fancy coffee. She was focused and methodical when working, attentive to every detail.  He'd not had to offer much guidance at all, save for the times he shared his own edits to a set of instructions which he knew from experience would improve the outcome.  If only the students were so competent. They fell into a peaceful, easy way of working, spending much of the time in comfortable silence, each engrossed in their own pursuit. 

Severus observed her often, when he had a free moment to look away from his cauldrons, his mental dossier growing longer by the day.  She tries to hide her Southern accent, but it comes out on certain words. Her hands are always busy; if she's not doing something productive with them, she's twirling her hair or figdeting with something absentmindedly.  She's able to focus for long periods. She picks up new information quickly.  Handles difficult situations - like Ruth - with grace and humour.  She often hums or even sings quietly to herself; I don't think she even realises she's doing it. She always smells divine - like strawberries and honeysuckle. And she doesn't seem to mind my dry remarks.

   It was a bit disarming at first, the way his dry remarks seemed not to bother her, and even seemed to amuse her.  And she wasn't shy about returning a few barbs of her own.  He found it rather enchanting.  Rarely did anyone banter back and forth with him with such ease.  It was itimate, in a friendly kind of way. He'd not had that sort of rapport with anyone since... well, since Lily, really. And even she was never quite so quick-witted.

   And of course, as much as he tried to ignore it, there was the fact that she was undeniably attractive.  She'd been gorgeous when they'd first met, all dolled up in her pretty clothes.  She'd shown up in his classroom every day the past week dressed in casual Muggle clothes, (so as not to ruin any of her nice things, she'd said) with minimal hairstyling or makeup, but truthfully, it made her no less attractive.  In fact, he actually found it quite cute. 

   He tried pushing such thoughts to the back of his mind.  Though not as young as he'd first assumed, she was ten years younger than him, and way out of his league.  Much as he hated to give her any credit, he reckoned Ruth was right: she'd meet these new handsome professors, they'd flirt shamelessly with her, she'd pick her favourite, and that would be that.  It was inevitable.

   He gazed at her, engrossed in crushing Sopophorous Beans.  When was the last time anyone had offered to help him with the hosptial stock?  Whilst there typically wasn't an entire ward's worth of stock to replenish, Madame Pomfrey did give him a monthly list of neccessities, and he always brewed them entirely on his own.  It was a regular task he had to deal with, on top of his responsibilities teaching and being Head of House.  All the staff were capable of brewing basic potions, but never had anyone offered to assist.  Let alone assist full-time for days on end.  Surely she wouldn't have offered to help if she found his company unbearable? 

   Perhaps he could just...?  No, it wasn't right.  It would be a complete invasion of her privacy.  Whatever her thoughts about him may be, he liked her, respected her.  

   On the other hand, maybe if he confirmed that she regarded him with only professionalism, he could banish these pesky fancies which kept creeping into his mind.  He could move on, regarding her as nothing more than a pleasant colleague.

   Many Legilimens can't perform without direct eye contact, but Severus had been perfecting his innate skill since reading about it that day in the library as a first-year student.  He could cast the magic wordlessly and weave his way into someone's mind from across the room, even if their back was turned. He looked at her; she was now adding the crushed beans to a simmering cauldron with one hand, stirring slowly with the other.  He knew she'd be too focused for the next few minutes to catch him looking.  With a final thought of just get on with it he entered her mind.

   He expected to be able to flick quickly through her thoughts and memories, like scanning over books on a shelf, as was typical.  He'd find what he was looking for, then leave.  But her mind was empty.  Not empty, really.  Just not accessible to me. There were no tangible thoughts or memories available to him, only a sense of focus and quiet contentment.  What she's feeling right now, he mused.

   He came back to himself, puzzled.  It was not the first time someone's mind had been inaccessible to him.  There were other accomplished Occlumens of course, though it was rare.  But this seemed different.  He didn't get the sense that she was intentionally hiding anything; rather, that it just was.  Her mind wasn't accessible to him.

   He gave a short sigh, louder than he meant to; Stella looked up.  "Alright?"

   "Yes.  Just... a bit hungry.  Shall we have the elves bring some lunch?"

********

   Her numerous trunks were open, in various states of disarray, her belongings scattered in piles around the room. A record player and crate of records. Stacks of books. Muggle photography equipment. A sewing machine. A guitar. And clothes. Clothes everywhere. In neatly folded stacks. In messy piles. Draped over furniture. On clothes hangers hung from every conceivable nook. Five whole trunks filled only with shoes.

   She really wasn't kidding about being addicted, he thought. He knew nothing about style or fashion, but was canny enough to recognise that the clothing was of superior quality. He spotted the tags on a few pieces: Vera Wang, Christian Dior. The names meant nothing to him; he assumed they must be Muggle designers.

   She moved about the room, picking up things and putting them down, searching for her bag. She was wearing a full length dress which looked to be made of velvet, with long bell-sleeves. It was a shade of deep green. Slytherin green, he thought. Her hair hung in loose waves to the middle of her back. A black jewelled pendant adorned her neck, accompanied by a few rather ornate rings on her hands. Her black heeled boots clicked on the floor as she moved. Shorter heels today. Sensible enough for a long walking tour? Severus thought she looked... well, lovely, actually. More casual than yesterday but no less pretty. Simply an observation, he mused. Nothing more.

   "Oh thank god, thought I'd never find it!" She held the bag up with relief. "Sorry about that. Shall we?"

   "Of course," he answered. "I thought I'd show you your classroom and office first, then take you around the castle and grounds?"

   "Perfect." She smiled.

   They stepped into the corridor and headed towards the apparition alcove nearby. "On second thought," he said, "perhaps we should take the long way. If you don't mind, of course. To help you better navigate. The castle is vast and the better acquainted with it you are, the easier it will be to get around."

   "Sure, I don't mind."

   Severus began leading her down the long corridor. "I hope you are finding your chambers satisfactory?"

   "More than. The view from the balcony is incredible. I think I'm going to turn the spare room into the wardrobe of my dreams. And the little reading nook in the living room! I've always wanted one of those, ever since I was a little girl."

   Severus was genuinely pleased that she liked her new home... and a bit nonplussed with himself for feeling so pleased. "We have two other new professors starting this year. However, of the other available chambers, one is near the Great Hall, so students are always about. The other overlooks the courtyard, and both are quite a bit smaller than yours. No spare room, and tiny kitchens. I thought you would appreciate the extra space and the superior view."

   Stella beamed, truly appreciative of his thoughtfulness. "That's so sweet of you. You must have known I'd show up with a million trunks full."

   He smirked, ever so slightly. Never in his life had he been accused of being sweet. "Not quite. A stoke of luck for you, I suppose. Ah, here we are. Your classroom, Professor."

   He pushed open one of the tall double doors, revealing the most magnificent room Stella had ever seen.  A vaulted ceiling arched overhead, at least three stories tall, held up by a series of stone pillars. Enormous stained glass windows lined the walls, filling the room with natural light.  Stella's eyes widened at the sight. "My god. This isn't a classroom, it's a cathedral." 

   The tap of her heels echoed off the polished stone floor as she made her way slowly to the other end of the long room, where there were risers for a choir, made of the same polished stone, surrounding a stunning grand piano, it's black laquer gleaming like a shiny jewel amid the dull grey stone.

"This piano - it's exquisite." She touched the keys gently, a few soft notes glowing then fading like fireflies. She gasped, softly.

Something about her reaction made Severus's usual steely reserve begin to warm, ever so slightly.  She was so genuinely delighted; it was lovely to see.

   "It's brand new," he said, his voice softer than usual. "The Ministry has provided a rather generous budget for the new programme, and the Headmistress thought it best that you have a suitable piano. The old one went out of tune every few days, apparently."

   "I'm dying to try it out. Do you mind? Just quickly."

   "Not at all."

   Stella sat down on the piano bench and placed her hands lightly on the keys. A soft, sweet melody arose. She played with a bit more fervour and the notes climbed dreamily, wafting into every inch of the cavernous room, to the very top of the lofty vaulted ceiling, fading out beautifully like a whispered prayer.

   "My god. The acoustics in here... I might cry."

   Severus noticed her eyes were welling up. She was serious. "Um-" he thrust his hands into the pockets of his black robes, searching. "Are you... alright? I don't have a-"

   Stella grabbed her handbag and opened the clasp. "It's alright, I do." She pulled an embroidered handkerchief from her handbag and dabbed her eyes. "I'm so sorry. It's just, it's just so beautiful. This room. This piano. These acoustics." She breathed in deeply, then let it out slowly. Her voice steadied. "God, I'm a mess. Crying like an idiot in front of someone I barely know. You must think I'm crazy."

   Severus found it... strangely charming, if he were honest. She was obviously appreciative of her new classroom. And whilst he'd never been comfortable around crying women, there was something rather sweet about it. So many new teachers blundered in as if they owned the place, as if Hogwarts were lucky to have them. She, however, seemed truly grateful to be there.

   "Believe me, these castle walls have seen far crazier sights. Your office is just over there; shall we?"

   Stella smiled, relieved to have an excuse to move on. She followed him, mentally berating herself for acting like a silly child in front of her new colleague. (My new colleague who is fine as hell, she reminded herself, which rubbed salt in the wound.) Oh well. It was just how she was; she got emotional over music and art and beautiful things all the time. In fact, tearing up was such a common occurrence, she only ever wore waterproof mascara. If the gorgeous professor with the velvety voice thought she was crazy, there wasn't much she could do about it.

   After seeing her office, Severus walked with her all over the castle and grounds. The rest of the journey was tear-free, blessedly. She asked him lots of questions about the castle's history and what working there was like. She was interested, but mostly she just wanted to hear him talk in that delicious voice of his.

   Severus found, to his great surprise, that he didn't mind. He was glad she actually seemed interested. Nothing was more boring than a person with no curiosity. The conversation was easy, pleasant - not something the acerbic potions master was used to, especially with someone new. Oddly, he thought, she seemed to actually be enjoying his company. She laughed softly at his dry remarks, returning a few of her own. When he accompanied her back to her chambers a few hours later, it seemed no time had passed.

   He lingered as she opened the door. "I would invite you in for a drink, but you've seen the state of the place. Can I offer a raincheck for when I'm not living in chaos? I swear I'm not normally such a slob."

   "Of course."

   She gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you so much for today. I know you must be busy. I really do appreciate it."

   "Not at all. The pleasure is all mine. I should go. You do have approximately eight tonnes of clothing to sort out."

   Stella gave a low laugh. "That I do. Well, see you... sometime?"

   His mouth formed the slightest smile. "Yes. Sometime."

   Stella shut the door behind her and sighed contentedly. God, hes soooo hot. I wanna run my fingers through that hair soooo bad.

   She found her mobile and lay on the bed. She couldn't wait to give Mikey the latest update.

********

   Heading back to the dungeons, Severus tried making sense of the past few hours. How had it passed so quickly? Gods, he'd not conversed with anyone new for so long, and with such ease, in... well, ever. And when it was over, he'd found himself wishing it weren't. Stella was bright, curious, and actually rather funny. She'd said some things he'd found quite witty. And most unexpected of all, she seemed to enjoy speaking with him. Although, perhaps she's just being polite.

   He shook his head in disbelief as he opened his office door. What are you on about, you had a nice talk with a pleasant lady. That's it. Stop overthinking it.

********

   He approached the large stone gargoyle which concealed the spiral staircase leading to the Headmistress's office, and gave the password in his deep baritone: "Sherbet lemon."  Though in her second year as Headmisstress, Minerva had opted to keep the old password set by Albus as a small tribute to her beloved friend and mentor.  Severus found the gesture touching, even if it did reconstitute the ache in his soul each time he had to say it.

   The gargoyle slowly rotated, revealing the twisting stone steps, and he made his way up to Minerva's office, knocking softly on the door.  

   "Oh, Severus.  Do come in.  I'm afraid I have a favour to ask of you."

   He took a seat across from her at the desk.  Whatever her favour might be, he could say with profound certainty that the previous Headmaster had asked much, much more of him.

   "Yes?"

   "I've been called into London just now on very short notice.  The Ministry needs me to report on some school business.  Nothing to worry about, but it is urgent.  I won't be here to greet our new Music professor. She arrives tomorrow afternoon from New York.  Hagrid will be collecting her from Hogsmeade around two o'clock. Knowing him, he will insist on taking her for a drink at the pub, so I would expect her no earlier than three. Would you please make her feel welcome?  Show her around, take her to her chambers."

   Severus tried not to let his annoynance show on his face.  He didn't fancy playing tour-guide. "Of course."

   Having known Severus since he was a child, Minerva knew he wasn't exactly the gregarious sort; his serious disposition and dry remarks could often leave others a bit on edge. She gave him a knowing look.  "Please, Severus.  Do make her feel at home.  She's a lovely woman and will be travelling quite far.  The castle will be empty and I don't want her to feel lonely."

   Severus raised an eyebrow.  "You seem to have little faith in my... congeniality." 

   Minerva smiled, her eyes warm.

   "I have all the faith in the world in you, dear." 

 ********

Friday, 18th August 2000

   The portkey trip was quick, but dreadful, as usual. Stella found herself at the Hogsmeade Portkey Depot feeling as though she'd just tumbled over Niagara falls in a barrel.  Everyone always said portkey travel became easier the more you did it, but she'd never found that to be true.  Her head swimming, she found a wall to lean against and breathed deeply, willing the nausea to disappear.

   "Yeh must be Miss Rosenbaum!" a cheery voice rang out.  A very tall, broad, bushy-bearded man with a friendly smile and sparkling dark brown eyes walked over and stuck out his giant hand.  "Rubeus Hagrid, pleased t' meet yeh. I teach Care o' Magical Creatures at Hogwarts." 

   She smiled back at him and placed her hand in his massive paw; his handshake was suprisingly gentle for such a large bloke.  "Stella, nice to meet you. Thank you for picking me up."

   "Oh it were no trouble, no trouble a'tall! How was yer trip?  Yeh look a might bit peaky if I'm bein' honest."

   "Oh, I'll be alright.  Portkey travel always makes me a little nauseous."

   "Well, tain't nothin' better fer that than a nice cold gingerbeer!  C'mon, let's get yeh sat down in the pub and yeh'll be feelin' mint in nowt time a'tall!"  

   Five minutes later Stella found herself at a table with Hagrid in The Three Broomsticks, watching a sheer layer of ice crystals lace their way around the glass of cold gingerbeer in front of her.  She looked around as the dizziness gradually subsided, taking in the warm ambiance.  The pub was shabby in a cosy kind of way; the furniture weathered, the lighting dim. At the bar, the witch bartender was scourgifying the counter as a bottle of ale poured itself into a pint glass nearby. Two old men in a corner were deeply engrossed in a game of Wizard's chess; she watched as one of the game pieces smashed another into bits.  Everyone around her was dressed in robes, long dresses, and cloaks.  She took a deep breath and let it out with a small, happy sigh.  It was so good to be back in the wizarding world after so many years.  

 ********

   Severus observed as a gaggle of house-elves nimbly moved the mountain of trunks into the vacant teachers' chambers on the fifth floor of the castle.  How many trunks could one person possibly need?  It must have cost her a fortune to have them all delivered.

   The new Music professor was due later that afternoon.  He recalled Minerva's panic when, with impeccable timing, Filius had announced his retirement just two days after the Ministry decreed that Hogwarts was to expand its arts program, leaving her to source both a new Charms professor and someone to teach Music in a hurry.

   In the wake of the War, there had begun a sort of Wizard Rennaissance, the zeitgeist shifting from an overarching sense of dread to a renewed enjoyment of life. After so many years of uncertainty and fear, so much loss and misery, people at last felt relieved, joyous, and eager to celebrate the beautiful things in life. New shops and restaurants were opening in Hogsmeade, along with art studios, music venues, galleries, and the like.  The Ministry proposed a three-year plan to expand the arts lessons at Hogwarts, starting this year with a new Music and Dance programme.  

   Minerva had interviewed several applicants, deciding on Stella Rosenbaum, a Muggle-born witch who had experience teaching music and dance in Muggle New York.  Severus had questioned her decision to hire someone with no experience working in the wizarding world, but Minerva held firm.  Stella was a witch after all, educated at the American magical school Ilvermorny, and teaching is teaching no matter who the students are.  She had personally interviewed her and found her to be the best candidate for the job.  

   Severus respected Minerva's decision, but balked inwardly at the thought of another American teacher at Hogwarts.  They'd had an American Muggle Studies teacher last year, whom he had found entirely disagreeable. She was also Muggle-born, and was loud and brash, with a shrill Boston accent, and she refused to let students use magic in her lessons.  She insisted on wearing only Muggle clothes; baggy jeans and sweatshirts, trainers in garish colours.  Severus found it slovenly, unprofessional, almost rude; to come work at a school in the wizarding world, yet refuse to adjust to the culture even the tiniest bit.  She was overly-confident in that stereotypically American way, always the loudest in the room, always pushing her opinions as if they were the only correct ones.  He could still hear the way her nasally, grating voice echoed off the castle walls.  Luckily she had only lasted half a year, to be replaced with Beth Sterling, a Welsh woman of the quiet, bookish sort.  Beth seemed to find Severus initmidating and kept her distance.

   Bloody Yanks. She probably has one of those hideous New York accents, he thought to himself as the elves scrambled into the soon-to-be inhabited chambers with the last of the trunks.

   He thanked the elves - he was always polite to house-elves - and retreated back to the cool, quiet solitude of the dungeons, into his office, where he spent the morning busying himself in his personal potions cupboard.  The summer break had seemed to drag on endlessly.  Long, hot days spent alone at his home in Cokeworth, just trying to fill the time - and silence his thoughts. 

   He was glad to be back at Hogwarts, where at least he'd be kept busy.  The previous year, his first year back at the school after the end of the War, had not been the easiest.  Not because of the work, or anything happening at the school.  No, the wizarding world had been truly at peace for the first time in years.  But few speak about how difficult peace can for the survivors - especially those who were never meant to survive at all.

   He wasn't a stupid man by any means.  Ever the crafty potions master, he'd been carrying various remedies everywhere he went for years:  dittany of course, bottled phoenix tears, antivenom.  Nagini accompanied the Dark Lord everywhere; one could never be too careful.  But that night when the world went to hell, when the snake sunk her fangs into him so violently, Severus had made his peace with death.  Years of fighting, lying, playing both sides, and for what?  It wouldn't bring back Lily, nor Albus, nor any of the other lives so needlessly taken in a madman's pursuit for power.  He'd fulfilled his misson, had done everything in his power to atone for the bad decisions made in his troubled youth, and he did not wish to fight any more.  So, after Harry left that night, he closed his eyes and resigned himself to his fate.

   Days later, he found himself waking up in St Mungo's, his mind groggy and his body screaming in agony. As he slowly came back to life, he pieced together the story from snippets of overheard conversations.  A Hogwarts house-elf, wandering in fear after the battle, had found him barely clinging to life. Remembering that Professor Snape had always been kind to the elves, Lolly had apparated him to the magical hospital.  The staff treated him, grudgingly.  ("We only have to get the bastard well enough to stand trial," he'd overheard one nurse say.) As soon as he was strong enough, he apparated himself back to his home in Cokeworth, preferring to struggle through his recovery alone.

   His trial was over quickly. When Harry Potter himself vouches for you, there isn't much left to discuss. He had to give evidence against a number of other Death Eaters, but was himself cleared of all charges.

   A few months later, Harry gave a long interview with a respected journalist (much to the chagrin of that infamous tabloid wench, Rita Skeeter, who had been desperate to get the first scoop.) Published in papers all over the wizarding world, this would be the only time Harry spoke publicly of the events.  Severus's name was cleared, and public opinion of him warmed overnight.  Minerva contacted her old friend and asked him to return to Hogwarts, offering him the Defense Against the Dark Arts job.

   Severus agreed to return; what the hell else was he going to do?  He turned down the DADA job, not wishing to dwell on the Dark Arts any longer.  What would be the point now, anyway?  He agreed to return to his previous post as Potions Master, and was reinstated as Head of Slytherin House.  His colleagues and students all knew his story by now, and whilst he maintained the same dour demenour as before, they regarded him with a fair bit more warmth and appreciation.

   His first year back at Hogwarts passsed, for the first time in ages, without serious incident.  Severus, however, was plagued by nightmares and flashbacks more garish than ever before. They came out of nowhere, any time of the day or night, wreaking havoc on his mind as if the Dark Lord himself were inhabiting his thoughts.  Once whilst looking through his personal potions cupboard, the door had slammed shut, and the sudden loud noise jarred something in his ragged soul; his mind took him back to that night in the Shrieking Shack when Nagini had nearly killed him.  When he finally came back to reality, he was huddled on the cupboard floor, surrounded by broken glass and spilled liquids, battered and bruised from battling his own inner demons.  He was relieved that it happened in his own office, deep in the dungeons, where no one would have heard his screams.

   More difficult than the nightmares or flashbacks was the existential why of it all. He wasn't supposed to live; why was he still here?  He'd done his part; what more reason was there for him to be alive? To muddle along for the next fifty years, teaching dunderheads and playing with potions?  It all seemed so empty, so pointless.  As twisted as it seemed, playing double agent had at least given him a mission, and some sense of purpose. Now it was over. The Dark Lord was dead, but so were so many others, and so was any sense of meaning or direction in his life. He'd thought about ending it, more times than he cared to admit.  He could brew something that would do the job quickly.  He'd even gathered the ingredients on two occasions.  But ultimately, he berated himself for being too much of a coward to go through with it.  Severus Snape, the man who had helped defeat the Dark Lord, didn't have the guts to put himself out of his own misery.  Pathetic.

   It wasn't that he felt suicidal every day.  It had been early days after the War when he'd had those thoughts.  These days, there was mostly just a cold, lingering sense of... nothingness.  He went through the motions every day, teaching, grading, brewing; and that would have to be enough.  It was all he had.

 ********

   Hagrid was right; the gingerbeer did make her feel much better, and they soon made their way back to the castle.  They had a pleasant conversation as they walked, Hagrid telling her about the phoenix eggs he was incubating and inviting her to come meet his hound, Fang. Stella thought he was lovely, and hoped her other colleagues would be just as delightful.

   As they approached, the castle came into view in all its splendour.  Stella couldn't help but gasp.  It was maginficent, straight out of the fairy tales she loved as a child.  There was certainly nothing like this in America, even in the wizarding world.  No, this was the kind of maginficent place found only in Europe, heavy with history in its opulence.  And she was going to live and work here?  It seemed utterly unreal.  

   Hagrid led her through the wrought-iron entrance gates and up to the main entrance hall.  Through the doorframe she could see a cloaked figure stood, waiting.  

   "Well Professor, wonderful to meet yeh. I'll leave yeh with Professor Snape now to show yeh 'round.  Professor Snape, this here's Miss Rosenbaum.  Careful, she's a might bit queasy from the trip." 

   The man stepped out of the shadow and drew nearer.  Dressed all in black, he was tall, with long black hair that framed a distinctive face with piercing dark eyes. His voice was deep, rich; his words precisely articulated in a languid drawl. "Thank you Hagrid.  Lovely to meet you, Miss Rosenbaum.  Your trunks arrived earlier and I had the house-elves deliver them to your chambers."

   Stella's brain went into overdrive, trying to process a hundred thoughts at once.  Snape?  As in Severus Snape?  No way!  I knew he would be here but I didn't expect- My god, he's gorgeous. And good lord, that voice.  That's the sexiest thing I've ever-"

   She tried desperately to remain composed, hoping her racing thoughts didn't show on her face.  "Please, call me Stella.  Thank you, it's lovely to meet you, too."  

   Severus took the hand she offered and shook it lightly.  Her voice was gentle, with a clear, smooth timbre and lower tone.  Her accent, whilst undeniably American, had none of the nasal monotone he expected from a New Yorker.  It was softer; he couldn't quite place it.

   He took in her appearance, his mind quickly filing away the minute details. Over the years his skill of keen observation had been key to his survival, and though the war had ended, the habit pesisisted. 

   Young, he thought. Pretty.  Not a judgment, just an observation.  Fair clear skin, golden blonde hair styled in neat waves about her shoulders. Dark blue eyes.  Nice figure. Merely an observation. Dressed in a calf-length, wine-coloured pencil skirt which flared slightly out at the knee, with matching blouse.  Form-fitting but impeccably tailored. Black pumps.  Nails manicured in a matching shade. Black handbag in her left hand.  Tasteful makeup. The style was a bit reminiscent of women in the classic Hollywood Muggle films his mother used to watch.  Not exactly the traditional-style wizarding robes many of the Hogwarts staff wore, but not entirely out of place.  Certainly more professional than his previous American colleague had ever presented.  

   "I hope your journey was not too taxing?"

   The slow, deep drawl of his voice was like warm honey, Stella thought, and she smiled, giving a slight chuckle.  "Portkey travel is always taxing for me, unfortunately."

   "I see.  Let me show you to your chambers then.  The castle is quite empty at the moment, so you'll have a quiet place to recover."

   Stella thanked him, and he turned to head down one of the long corridors.  She followed alongside him, taking in the glory of the castle with wonderment, feeling rather like a Muggle child on their first trip to Disneyworld. 

   "As you are the first new member of staff to arrive, I've taken the liberty of giving you the best of the available chambers.  They are located on the fifth floor.  There are a lot of stairs, but mercifully, the Headmistress has allowed us use of a staff transport system.  There are various points around the castle we may apparate to and from.  The previous Headmaster had not allowed apparition at Hogwarts, even by staff, but Minerva has wisely decided to relax that rule.  It has been a godsend, to be honest.  No more climbing hundreds of stairs every day."

   Stella noted how his voice (my god, that voice!) went a bit softer at his mention of the previous Headmaster.  He mentioned it casually, as if she didn't know about Albus Dumbledore, or his connection with Severus Snape.  She knew all about it of course - there wasn't a single witch or wizard who didn't - but still, she had a million questions she didn't dare ask.  

   "This place is incredible.  I really can't believe I'm here."

   "It is, truly, a beautiful place.  Here we are, we can apparate closer to your chambers from here."  He indicated a small alcove set into the wall, and they stepped inside.  He offered his arm, "As you aren't yet familiar with the location."  She linked her arm in his, and in a flash they were standing in a different alcove, in another part of the castle.  

   "Your chambers are just down the corridor." Stella followed him down the hall to an ornate wooden door; a beautiful carved design on it resembled a trellis of climbing roses.  Stella pushed open the door and stepped inside.

   "Welcome home, Miss Rosenbaum.  I hope it is to your liking."

   Stella gazed around the room, eagerly taking in the details of her beautiful new home.

"These chambers have an extra bedroom, a full kitchen, a balcony, and a view of the lake.  They were the most spacious of the available ones... which is lucky for you, considering the number of trunks that were delivered earlier." He cocked one eyebrow slightly as he delivered the final line.

   Stella laughed softly. "Sorry about that. I... have a lot of clothes. Kind of an addiction, really. But there are worse addictions to have, I guess."

   "I see. Well I'm sure you would appreciate some time to get settled. If you feel hungry, the house elves will be happy to oblige. The one assigned to you is called Pinky. Just speak her name into your wand and she will appear."

   "Wow, I really am back in the magical world."

   "Indeed. Perhaps tomorrow I can show you around properly. Shall I meet you here at noon?"

   "Sure, that would be great, thank you."

   "My pleasure. Do get some rest." He left, closing the door softly behind him. Stella listened to his footsteps growing fainter as he walked down the corridor.

   When she could be sure he was no longer near, Stella leaned back against the door and took a deep breath, finally able to drop the facade of composure she'd been so desperately trying to maintain. Oh. My. GOD.  Was it lingering queasiness from the trip, or did she actually have butterflies...?  Butterflies, for sure. Something her Granny used to say sprang to mind: You want a spoon full of that sugar, don'tcha? Ahh, Granny, never at a loss for words.  She took a deep breath in and out and shook off the dreaminess, willing herself to go back to reality.  

   She decided she should explore her new chambers. She eyed her trunks stacked up in the middle of the living room floor. She was going to see him again tomorrow; she'd better find something nice to wear.

 ********

   Severus returned to his office, planning to continue organising his personal stores. His new colleague wasn't quite what he had thought she might be, but had been a pleasant enough surprise. She seemed tolerable enough, not overly exuberant or irritating as expected. And, if he were frank, she was... quite easy on the eyes. Not that it mattered; he would remain professional of course, no matter what.

   He wondered what had brought her here to Scotland. Why she had been in the Muggle world for so long. Perhaps he would ask her tomorrow. But perhaps not. He did not wish to bother her with endless questions.

   Had he been personable enough? Minerva did ask him to make her feel at home. Perhaps he shouldn't have left her alone in her chambers so soon? Social niceties had never been his strong suit. He barely tolerated most people and found socialising tiresome. His dry wit was often mistaken for rudeness by those who did not know him well - which, in truth, was most people.

   He'd made the remark about her trunks; had she been offended? Tomorrow he should endeavour to keep his dry remarks in check.

   He resumed taking stock of his potions cupboard, wondering vaguely why he even cared what she might of him.

********

   Stella dug through her handbag, locating the enchanted cellphone that she'd sorted before her big move across the pond; a way for her to keep in contact with those she had left in the Muggle world. (Though she'd have to start calling it a mobile now, she supposed.) She flopped dramatically down on the massive four-poster bed which was now hers, calling the first person in her speed-dial list.

   Three rings, then an answer: "Moshi moshi!"

   "Moshi moshi, Mikey-chan!" She greeted her friend.

   "Stella Belle! How's the wizarding world, babydoll?"

   "Magical, babe!" She'd only left New York earlier that morning; still, it was good to hear Mikey's voice. Since meeting as first year Ilvermorny students, it was rare that she went more than a few days without speaking to her best friend. "I just got in a few hours ago. This place is unreal! And you'll never guess who met me at the castle door."

   "The man of your dreams?" Mikey teased.

   "You might actually be right... it was a certain Professor Snape."

   Mikey gasped. "Nooooo way!"

   "Yes, babe. And oh my god Mikey, he's gorgeous."

   "Really?"

   "Really. You know how you always say I only like older men, men with big noses, or goth guys? Mikeyyyy... He's the whole damn holy trinity."

   Mikey giggled excitedly. It was true. Stella really had a type. They'd spent many a night in New York nightclubs, and she'd inevitably end up dancing with the most goth-looking guy in the place. He always teased her about her love of pale goth boys and said she'd end up marrying Trent Reznor.

   "Giiiirl!"

   "But that's not even the best part. Mikey... when he spoke to me, I thought my soul had left my body. His voiiiiice. It's sooooo hot."

   Mikey laughed. "You're lying in bed kicking your feet right now aren't you?"

   "Maaaaaybe..."

   Mikey laughed again. "Well, is he single?"

   "Surely not. A man like that?"

   "You forget not everyone shares your unique taste, Stella Belle."

   "True. Well, I'm seeing him again tomorrow. He's going to show me around. I need your help; what the hell should I wear???"

 ********

Chapter 1: New Life

Chapter 2: Beautiful Day

Chapter 3: Inbetween Days

Chapter 4: Cut Flowers

Chapter 5: Isn't She Lovely

Chapter 6: Dreams

Chapter 7: Stay Up Late

Chapter 8: To Wish Impossible Things

Chapter 9: Dress You Up

Chapter 10: As the World Falls Down

Chapter 11: Behind the Wall of Sleep

Chapter 12: Story of a Girl

Chapter 13: Possibly Maybe

Chapter 14: Little Earthquakes

Chapter 15: Our Lips are Sealed

Chapter 16: Cuts You Up

Chapter 17: You Oughta Know

Chapter 18: Just Like Heaven *

Chapter 19: Signed, Sealed, Delivered

Chapter 20: We've Only Just Begun *

Chapter 21: Everlong

Chapter 22) Fever

Chapter 23) Coming Clean

Chapter 24) Rumours

Chapter 25) Ballroom Blitz

Chapter 26) New York, New York *

Chapter 27) Holiday

Chapter 28) This Will Be Our Year

Chapter 29) Love of My Life

Chapter 30) Love to Love You Baby *

Chapter 31) Pictures of You

Chapter 32) Hey Jealousy

Chapter 33) Don't You Want Me *

Chapter 34) Is She Really Going Out With Him

Chapter 35) Wish You Were Here

Chapter 36) Trust Me *

Chapter 37) Rearview Mirror

Chapter 38) She Loves You

Chapter 39) Sunshine of Your Love *

Chapter 40) Landslide

Chapter 41) Bella Donna *

Chapter 42) A Forest

Chapter 43) Wicked Game *

Chapter 44) Lips Like Sugar

Chapter 45) Deeper and Deeper *

Chapter 46) Like a Prayer

Chapter 47) Burning Up *

Chapter 48) Cherish *

Chapter 49) R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Chapter 50) Candy Girl *

Chapter 51) What a Fool Believes

Chapter 52) Suspicious Minds

Chapter 53) One Way or Another *

Chapter 54) Don't Do Me Like That

Chapter 55) Listen to Her Heart

Chapter 56) The Waiting *

Chapter 57) Back for Good

Chapter 58) Hot for Teacher *

Chapter 59) Creep

Chapter 60) Somebody's Watching Me

Chapter 61) Parallel Universe

Chapter 62) Wildflowers

Chapter 63) Secondhand News