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Disclaimer.
J.K Rowling went out one day so I took her characters out to play.
We ran around, they laughed with glee,
All this fun and she works for free!

A/N
My first fic, Please read and review. Thank you to my reviewers, you know who you are.

Something is happening to Ginny, that no one is aware of, and may prove dangerous. Phaelan gets a taste life at Hogwarts and sees Snape in all his glory. Will things get worse or better?

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The incident on the stairs with Sir Nick seemed to shatter the division between the Muggle and the Magic folk. Snape thought for sure that meeting the ghost would have sent her over the edge. Instead, Miss McKenzie had met Madame Hooch, Hagrid and the caretaker Filch with the same grace she had exhibited when she greeted the others, earlier in the day.

Other Muggle women he had known, fell to pieces when confronted with magic and the mysteries surrounding the Wizarding world. Marriages between Wizards and Muggle women were frequently strained. The successful matches usually worked because the family lived mostly in the Muggle world, with only occasional excursions into the Wizards world. 'Rather like visiting that vile creation, Euro Disney outside Paris.' thought Snape. He had been dragged along with the Malfoy's when Draco had insisted they must visit ten years previously. He had barely escaped with his sanity intact.

Looking at the woman seated on his left; why did Albus insist on this seating arrangement; Snape wondered at the equanimity of her countenance. There she sat, listening to the supposedly humorous anecdotes of her new colleagues. Lost in his own thoughts, Severus had managed to ignore the tedious repetition of tales he had heard time and again at this table. When Remus directed a question at Miss McKenzie, Snape was roused from his reverie.

"Phaelan, aside from your inopportune introduction to Sir Nick, you've been very open to all the new things you've had thrown at you." Lupin tilted his head quizzically to the side. "There are few, aside from our youngsters arriving in their first year, who could have kept their composure such as you have. How....?"

Cocking her head to the side she uttered one word with absolute certainty, "Survival." She looked around the table at the eyes upon her. They clearly did not understand and that was not unexpected.

"Let me see if I can explain," she began, "Children have an innate ability to perceive and react to situations in the most appropriate way, in order to survive. For instance, babies cry when they're hungry, young children instinctively cling to their mothers when they are afraid, older children seek out peers who are most like themselves, for safety in numbers. In some situations, such as in abusive homes, the children learn to become invisible, to avoid unwanted attention." She watched for the reactions of her table mates.

The teachers around the table began to nod; they understood her frame of reference.

"Adults tend not to act upon their instincts. They seek to control situations and set up environments where actions are predictable. This gives most, a false sense of security such that, when the unexpected occurs, they tend to react to repel the unknown instead of seeking to understand the new situation." Phaelan's lecture had captured the staff's imagination. They had never heard this kind of analysis before.

"When I came up against your ghost, I 'reacted' to repel the unknown." Phaelan appeared a little embarrassed at her admission. "If I had been a little less awed by your artwork and a little more attentive to my environment, I doubt my reaction would have been as.....shrill."

"Come on Phaelan, that doesn't explain your little Penny Opera act with Nick," scoffed Lupin, 'where did that come from?" He sat back expectantly.

"All the training I received in survival skills, pointed to one thing as critical. In any situation you did not initiate, there are things you can and cannot control." She started counting on her fingers, "First, observe your perimeter, in this case that was the ghost and you folk. Is it hostile, benign or friendly? Well, when all of you came out from the hall, I saw Remus and Professor Snape approach me first."

She smiled at Lupin,"I knew Remus was friendly, and Professor Snape...well benign I guess."
This caused Snape to scowl and the company to laugh.

"Looking down the stairs, I saw Minerva looking decidedly pissed off. I didn't think that would be her reaction to danger." She indicated Rolanda Hooch, "I hadn't yet met Madam Hooch, but she was about to laugh and Headmaster, you hadn't lost your twinkle."

"The second thing I learned, was to take control of my own feelings. An enemy will always try to keep you off balance. It's important to know yourself and how your body reacts under stress. Then you physically and mentally make yourself stop your reaction and regain self control."

Holding up three fingers, Phaelan began her conclusion. "Lastly, once you've figured out your true enemy and have your emotions under control, you look for things you can control. I was my own enemy in this situation." Phaelan smiled a self-conscious smile at this. "By the time the Headmaster was speaking to Sir Nick, I was just thoroughly embarrassed and in that situation you either laugh or cry. I prefer to laugh and have you laugh with me. It worked!" The staff, except Snape, laughed again.

His scowl firmly in place, Snape asked, "Do you mean to say, Miss McKenzie, that you treat all new experiences like military campaigns?"

"No Professor, I treat life as a military campaign," she replied in a firm voice, and added more softly, "and it's Phaelan."

Snape merely lifted his brow, lost for a retort. She had given him a lot to think about.

From over her shoulder, Phaelan heard Remus call her name.

"Would you like to take a stroll around the lake, Phaelan?" he asked. It appeared he had transfigured a napkin into a stole.

"I'd like that Remus, thank you," Phaelan replied. She looked at the Dark wizard on her right. If anything his demeanour had progressed from bored to annoyed. She had an idea, but was no where close to understanding the Potions master's moods.


~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione had left a message with her parent's receptionist to call home when they had a moment. She grabbed the local newspaper, looking for events and places to attend when Ginny arrived. She had no doubt that Ginny would soon be there and she looked forward to being the 'Know it all' in Muggle land.

Sure as fate, Hermione's Mom called back to say it was okay for Ginny to come. Hermione prepared and sent a note through the floo network to the Burrow.

'Dear Ginny,' she wrote, I have asked my parents and they have said it's okay. Would you like to come and spend some time at my home this summer? I'd love to show you around, especially now that I have my driver's licence and the use of a car. Ask your Mom and Dad, they can speak to my parents too. Please, please, please, it would be so much fun to have you here.

Love Hermione.'

Opening the small cask of Floo powder on the mantelpiece, Hermione threw a pinch into the fireplace and shouted, "The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole." She threw the letter into the green flames and waited in anticipation for her friend's reply.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ron was staying with his brother, Percy, in London for the summer. He had managed to get a job in Quality Quidditch Supplies, as a stock clerk, but he hadn't mentioned it to Harry yet. The downside was bunking with a supercilious twit, but the rent was right; free.

Just as he had started into his second helping of sausages, Ron heard the tapping at the kitchen window. Turning, he recognized Harry's owl.

"Hello Hedwig, you got a letter for me?" Ron had extended his arm to the owl that looked at him with derision. Removing the letter, Ron looked at the address.

"Oh, so that's why you're pissed at me." The envelope had been sent to the Burrow and then re-directed to him in London.

"Sorry, old girl, Harry didn't know; 'ere have some toast." Ron set the owl on the table and went to get quill and paper to reply.

"Cheers, Mate," Ron began, I'd love to come since I'm now working in London but you don't have a working fireplace. I'll talk to Dad and see if he has an answer.

Later,

Ron

P.S. Your owl is pissed off at me - give her an extra treat or something.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry sat at home, 'Alone', thankfully. The remains of pizza, Chinese take-away and a vindaloo were evident on the coffee table. He had analyzed the situation and concluded that, he only had to live at his aunt's home for part of the summer. The presence of his loathsome cousin, obnoxious uncle and wretched aunt, were inconsequential to his time spent at Privet Drive. Aunt Petunia had made sure of this before leaving.

Uncle Vernon had disconnected the satellite dish before he left, thinking Harry had no clue how to re-connect.

'I'm a bloody wizard, you stupid bugger, not an illiterate', thought Harry as he read the instructions on how to hook up and program the dish. Harry heard tapping at the kitchen window and ran to find Hedwig, impatient to enter. Hedwig flew into the dining room.

"Good Girl," said Harry, stroking the white Owls head. Harry headed to the living room to read Ron's reply and watch wrestling. The owl sprang to the coffee table and proceeded to eat the leftover pizza crust.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ginny received Hermione's letter and started to harangue her mother. Her tirade continued until her father returned to the Burrow.

"Daddy, Daddy, Hermione has asked me to spend time there for the summer. She already has wards around the house." She launched into her 'only girl' child mantra.

"She's like a sister to me, Daddy, and there are already wards around her house for protection. PLEASE." A determined Ginny was a pain in the backside.

Arthur Weasley relented a bit and said, "I tell you what," he continued, 'I'll call Dr. Granger in the morning on the fellytone. If they say so, I suppose it'd be ok."

"Thank you, Daddy." Ginny kissed and hugged her parents, like the dutiful daughter she was.

Ginny climbed to her chamber and readied for a bath. She pulled out a small knife, the same one she had used to cut herself that first year, when she used her blood to write on the wall.

"Tom, do you see Tom, they do love me." She smiled to herself and used the charm Tom had instructed her to use to turn the knife handle into a phallus. Secreting her treasure in her bathrobe, she entered and locked herself in the bathroom. Sinking into the tub, scented with her favourite herbal extract, Ginny began to stroke herself into bliss with the transfigured dildo.

Later, Ginny pulled herself out of the tub and turned to look at herself in the mirror. She caressed her own breasts, much bigger now than in first year. Tom had told her they would become beautiful and that he would mark them as his when they were ready. He had even shown her how, when he caused her to mark her thighs and belly.

"I think they're ready Tom; watch." Taking her lower lip between her teeth, Ginny took the knife and gently drew the keenly honed blade over the flesh of the breasts. Carefully, so that a scar would not form permanently, she scored the word 'TOM' on each breast starting from the nipple and moving upwards. She watched as tiny beads of blood appeared and dried almost immediately. It stung, but the pain was ecstasy. She smiled; Tom would be happy until the scratches healed. Then she would have to do it again. He had told her so.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Phaelan and Remus strolled around the lake enjoying the scents of evening blooming flowers. He was pointing out some features and warning of never entering the forest alone, lest she encountered one of the many fantastic creatures contained within it's environs.

"How has all this existed all this time without being discovered, Remus?" Phaelan sat on a rock beside the lapping water. "All these mythical creatures, the comings and goings of your people, how..." she paused, not sure to phrase the rest of her question, "how have you all kept this hidden from the rest of the world; not just here, but in other countries too?"

"The parting of the ways was painful for both sides of the boundary." Remus lowered himself to the ground beside her and pulled a few blades of grass. "You know about the Salem witch trials in your own country. You must have heard of the Inquisition and Reformation." He looked at her as she nodded silently.

"As Muggle society progressed in creating technology, improving agriculture and becoming literate, the need for the eccentric inventor, wise old crone and learned astrologer faded. The witch or wizard, who had difficulty blending in, were often ostracized, abused or killed in the most horrific fashion. To be fair, innocents died on both sides." Remus looked up to see her looking out over the lake.

"There are books in our library that can go into details, dates and places if you want." He smiled as she raised her eyebrows.

"I guess since I am to teach Muggle history and social studies, I'd better be on a nodding acquaintance with the history of your world." She smiled back at him and began to rub her arms vigorously.

"Come on," he began, rising, "We'd best get back to the castle, before you catch your death." Helping Phaelan to her feet, he took her hand and led her to the stairs leading to the entrance.

Up in a tower unseen by the couple below, a dark figure watched as the pair approached, hand in hand, to the courtyard. He knew he couldn't be seen from the ground in the darkness, he had spied on too many students this way in the past. Arching an eyebrow, he plotted the timing of the titbit of knowledge he intended to drop into casual conversation tonight. It had to be subtle and well timed.

Snape smiled and made his way to the staff room, his plan ready to be executed.

'One hopes, the good brandy and sherry will be served tonight, in honour of the new Muggle.' he hopefully pondered.

Snape considered the idea of being actually affable to her.....Phaelan, yes. Perhaps, offering to refill her glass at some point, while he reminded Lupin to pick up his Wolfsbane potion before the full moon. A smile, of the most sinister kind, crossed Severus' face. Of course, Phaelan would be curious, perhaps solicitous, of Remus, thinking that the bastard was poorly. What better time to enlighten her to Lupin's condition and the charitable work, he, tried

He billowed into the staff room crossing to where the Headmaster was pouring the refreshments for his staff.

"Severus, there you are my boy. I was just telling Phaelan, there are plans afoot to move
the Muggle studies classroom upstairs this year. Somewhere brighter for a new program." Dumbledore turned back to the sideboard to pour Snape a drink.

Accepting the proffered beverage, Snape began his charade.

"Of course Headmaster, it wouldn't do to have Phaelan put up with the dingy closet we used previously. A fresh locale for a fresh new face." He smiled the tiniest of smiles while raising his glass to Phaelan.

"Thank you professor, it's most kind of you to support me, at last." Phaelan was unsure of this change of attitude. She was uneasy, it was too fast. He had something up his sleeve.
She was distracted by Minerva explaining the certification process to her and then by Hagrid's remembrance of his time as a teacher. Her glass was becoming empty of the sherry she had chosen.

Snape sauntered over to the tray of drinks and selected the sherry. He approached Minerva and Poppy first and offered refills; best not to appear too eager. Quietly, he walked behind the chairs and stood behind Remus and Phaelan sitting on the small sofa. Her glass was almost empty. Making a good show of not interrupting the current speaker, Hooch, Severus leaned over and spoke directly in Phaelan's ear.

"A little more sherry Phaelan?" he crooned.

His voice sent shivers down her spine. Is this how he spoke to students? How did they ever learn? Phaelan felt heat from her centre spread up to her face as he reached over to fill her glass on the small table, his hair brushing the tip of her ear.

Turning his head towards Lupin he uttered just loud enough for the couple seated on the sofa to hear, "By the way, Lupin, your Wolfsbane potion will be ready for you next week. I wouldn't want to be late for your trans....I mean your monthly affliction. I've timed it perfectly on the calendar this month." He stood back and made his way over to the sideboard to replace the bottle.

Moving to his customary corner to stand in the shadows, Snape watched the reactions of the Muggle and the Werewolf. Lupin blanched and looked at Snape with undisguised hate. Phaelan was looking at Lupin with a mixture of confusion and concern.

Placing his glass on the small table, Remus stood up, "Ladies and gentlemen, is has been a most pleasant evening, but I must return to Grimmauld Place. One never knows when one might be needed at headquarters. Albus, I'll apparate from the front gates." He bowed to the company and made to leave.

Taken aback by his abrupt departure, Phaelan stood, "Remus, wait." she called. Looking back at the rest of the room she excused herself and followed Lupin.

"Remus!" Phaelan called down the hall. "Please, wait. What happened?" she ran down the hall after his rapidly receding form. "Remus, please."

Lupin stopped but didn't turn back to her. His posture betrayed his agitation. Phaelan caught up to him.

"Remus, what's wrong, what happened? Are you ill? Do you have chronic condition you treat? What ever it is, there's no need to be embarrassed." Phaelan reached out to touch his arm.

At her touch, Lupin flinched away. "Phaelan, it's best you go back. Enjoy your evening. I'll see you soon." He made to leave.

"That's right Lupin, run back to your den. You know what happens when you take a dark creature away from familiar environs. They tend to become, feral." A sneering Snape appeared from the shadows, arms crossed in front of him.

"I thought you were giving our new Muggle-born colleague lessons on magical creatures. Did you not think to include a practicum? Oh, but of course. It's the wrong time of the month. How could I forget?" Snape smiled and the hall became colder.

Turning to Phaelan, Snape assumed his best professorial voice.

"The Wolfsbane potion is a difficult concoction to brew, requiring precise timing and preparation of ingredients. It must be prepared at exactly the right moment during the month for the afflicted one to receive its benefits."

Smiling again, he looked back at Remus but spoke to Phaelan, "Our erstwhile professor, I believe that is the term he uses, is the afflicted one in this case. I prepare the potion to ease his transformation into a Werewolf. Perhaps, he will let you observe one day." He turned back to Phaelan. "There's nothing quite like an empirical experience, I'm sure you agree."

"Snape, you are a miserable bastard." Lupin was angry, his soft voice the indication of how deep his emotion was running. He stood straight and looked Snape in the eye.

"This young woman has been subjected to more mental trauma in 48 hours than anyone of us has ever had to endure. Her world has been ripped apart and reassembled into something she would not have recognized two days ago." His hands fisting in the air, Lupin fought to regain his composure.

"What did you hope to gain? What earthly reason would you have to do this now?" He turned to Phaelan, extending a hand, palm open.

"I had never intended to hide my reality from you. It would be impossible. I had wanted....hoped you would see me as a man, a friend first. I'm sorry." Looking at the man and woman before him once more, Remus left through the front doors.

Phaelan watched the doors close as Remus left. She closed her eyes breathing deeply, trying to regain her composure. Looking within, Phaelan couldn't decide whether she was more angered at Snape's revelation than saddened by Remus's admission.

"Why, what did you gain, Professor? Remus Lupin has been one of the kindest, most gentle of people I have ever met. Do you get some kind of kinky satisfaction by outing him Professor?"
Phaelan approached Snape to meet him, well, not quite face to face.

Looking up into the vaguely saturnine visage, Phaelan confronted the dark wizard, calling him to account for his behaviour. "What kind of man seeks to demean another solely on a physical condition they have no control over? What manner of teacher practices prejudice and rejoices in the diminution of another then finds humour in it?"

Phaelan was feeling full indignation now and her target was still in sight. "What manner of person am I expected to collaborate with who despises those who are considered allies? Where does that leave me?"

Phaelan shouted her last sentence. Both she and Snape were unaware of the audience above.

Snape drew himself up to his full height and unfolded his arms. He lifted his head so that he might look upon Phaelan with the greatest of disdain.

"Madam, I am exactly what you see. I have no redeeming social graces, I am not kind and I abhor prevarication. I seek solitude for my studies and recognition for my achievements."

Turning to the stairs leading to the dungeons, he turned back once more, "Since I have rarely if ever received either solitude or recognition, I see no reason to reciprocate in any of the other social niceties. Good evening Miss McKenzie." He spat out her name. Turning his back, he swept down stairs.

Phaelan stood where he left her, suddenly exhausted and completely drained. For some reason, every confrontation today had left her feeling weak. She heard someone call her name from behind her.

"Phaelan." Dumbledore called softly again. She turned to look at who was looking for her and slumped inwardly seeing the Headmaster.

"You are tired out, you need your rest. Come." Dumbledore beckoned to her and led her upstairs.

"I've told the elves to bring you some hot chocolate in an hour. Go and have yourself a nice long bath, Minerva swears by them." Dumbledore reached into his cloak and brought out a book.

"Here you go, Hogwarts a History, a start to your reading." The old man stood in front of her room. "There is so much to know and understand about our world. Some of the knowledge will be dark, depressing. Fortunately, there is as much light and good." Dumbledore smiled at the little Muggle.

"Tomorrow will always be there. Good night Phaelan." He patted her hand and left.

Calling out the password, Phaelan entered her rooms. She walked to the bathroom and looked at the bathtub. Snapping her fingers, she called Polly the elf.

"Polly, how does this work?" She let the elf draw a bath and soaked in fragrant luxury for a while, letting her thoughts wander.

Dragging herself out to dry and dress in her old t-shirt and shorts, she found a steaming mug of hot chocolate beside her bed. Crawling between the sheets, she sipped the drink unaware of the sleeping draught Dumbledore had instructed to be added. Minutes after she finished, she was soundly and dreamlessly asleep.