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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!

Ah, the rocky road to a relationship. Understanding another can be painful. Back to the cliffie!

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"Enough!" Snape roared as he drew his wand on her.

Suddenly, blue light shot out the end of the wand and hit the wall where she sat. The ancient stone crumbled beneath her and before she could react, Phaelan found her self plunging backwards towards the ground below.

Snape, stunned for a moment at his sudden involuntary release of magic, threw himself forward to catch her before she fell. As she slipped through his fingers, he fell to his belly to look down and cast a spell.

He yelled, "Arresto Dessendum," while pointing the offending wand at her.

The spell caught her and slowed her fall to next to nothing. To Phaelan, it felt as though she was suddenly dangling from a bungee cord. Gasping for breath, she looked up and saw a shocked Snape holding his wand in her direction. She realized her descent had slowed to inches per second and took the time to catch her breath. Suddenly, she stopped entirely. She looked at Snape again and saw a smile cross his face.

Snape had felt utter panic, as he watched Phaelan fall from the parapet; he thought only of stopping her death at his hand. The surge of angry uncontrolled magic was worthy of the most immature teen. The spell worked and she had slowed, creators be praised. Taking a moment now to think, Snape realized he had been goaded into his temper by the little hellion below. As his pulse returned to something close to normal, he noticed the courtyard below. She was safe now thanks to his swift reaction. Had she left well enough alone, this incident would never have happened. Snape's Slytherin brain clicked in to save the day for his pride.

He smiled to himself, "Finite dessendum." He cast the spell to stop her slow descent. "Mobilicorpus," Came next, to move her across to the spot where he intended to release her.

Phaelan felt herself start to move sideways. 'What is he up to now?' she wondered to herself. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the water fountain approaching and felt a little concerned.

She yelled up to the man above, "I'm okay, Severus, you can let me go. I'll be fine." Phaelan looked behind again and the fountain was closer. She realized what he intended.

"Severus Snape, let me down now. You've had your revenge today. LET ME DOWN!" she yelled, but he continued to smile and ignore her pleas. She suddenly stopped directly over the water in the basin of the fountain.

"Severus Snape, YOU Son of a biiiiiii...." The rest was lost in the sound of a body hitting the water.

Filch and Hagrid ran to help the hapless Muggle out of the fountain, where she had been dropped. Phaelan stood and pushed them away, as she spluttered and dripped on the tiles.

Pushing her hair out of her eyes, Phaelan looked up and saw he had left the tower. Seething, she strode into the castle, intent on her own revenge. A great deal of shouting could soon be heard from within.

"Our new perfessr speaks a lot o languages," observed Hagrid, hearing Phaelan cursing Snape in Arabic."

"Really. Well it does her no good 'round here if she can't do no magic," sourly replied the squib caretaker.

"I think she's taken to callin' him somethin' nasty in Italian," continued Hagrid, still trying to listen.

"Give over, man, the word bastard sounds the same in almost every tongue," sneered Filch.

"Aye, well, lets get on then." Hagrid led the way to the edge of the forest.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The bickering between them continued, attracting attention from every denizen of the castle. A very angry Dumbledore approached the couple from behind. Neither had seen him coming and had been stunned into silence, when he made his presence known.

"ENOUGH!" Dumbledore's voice resounded throughout the castle. His anger was evident. not only in his voice and face, but in his very presence. The long white locks of hair flitted about as if in a breeze. His robes stood out and an aura appeared to surround his countenance.

"There is a purpose to my plans. YOU, each of you, have placed your personal agenda in counterpoint to my commands." Dumbledore observed each of them between narrowed eyes. Both Wizard and Muggle appeared unrepentant. The old man began to pace.

"Severus, you seem to have forgotten your goal, your personal holy grail in our struggle. You were instructed to provide whatever information Phaelan would need in order to perform her job. It apparently has not been forth coming," the Headmaster reminded the dark wizard, standing sullenly before him.

Feeling rather smug, Phaelan was sneering at Snape from behind the headmaster.

"Phaelan, take that look off your face, madam," demanded Dumbledore, as he spun to face her.

"You appear to have quickly forgotten your oath. I gave you explicit instructions to follow Severus' lead in dealing with our world. You have disregarded his warnings and placed both of you in harms way."

Drawing himself up to his full height, the Headmaster became a formidable presence.

"Since you, each of you, has lost sight of our goals and turned to juvenile jousting, I feel the consequences you should face should fit the manner in which you act." The old man continued to pace.

"A very few short years ago, just before Severus time as a student, it would have meant a public thrashing for each of you, for disobeying the Headmasters orders." He turned and looked at his teachers. "Don't imagine for a moment I didn't think about reinstating the practise for the both of you." His pacing resumed.

"I have therefore decided, you should just be treated as would the youthful hooligans you are acting like. Follow me," Dumbledore commanded.

Dumbledore walked down a corridor to a room and opened the door.

"Phaelan, welcome to your new classroom." He stood to the side to let them both enter the dingy, dirty room. The windows were caked in dirt, the ceiling obscured by cobwebs and dust. Everything had been overtaken by the detritus of time.

"Accio!" Dumbledore commanded, and Snape's wand leaped into the Headmaster's hand, much to Snape's shock.

"I expect you to clean this room by hand; no magic." the old man advised.

Snape made to protest, but was immediately cut off by a gesture from the Headmaster. Waving his hand around, Dumbledore removed the dirt from everything eight feet and higher. Another sweep of his hand and two steaming buckets appeared on the floor along with mops, scrubbing brushes, rags and brooms.

"The brooms are the Muggle kind; not for transportation," the angry Headmaster said pointedly to Phaelan.

"Headmaster, at least let me go to my room and change. I was just dumped in the water trough of your fountain and I'm soaked through," whined Phaelan, angry at the insinuation that she had any fault.

"I've a good mind to let you stay wet, just to cool your temper, young woman. Never the less..." Dumbledore waved his hand once more and Phaelan felt her clothes immediately dry. Her hair however, looked like a Medusan mess.

The old warrior walked to the door and turned once more to them. "This door will be locked until I think you are ready to leave. You may summon an elf for fresh cleaning supplies or refreshment. Otherwise, you're on your own."

"So do we like, get a bucket to use for a toilet. Even prisoners get something to use in their cells." snarled Phaelan.

Pointing beyond her to a door in the corner, Dumbledore replied to her cheek, "That is your office. It has facilities. I don't attest to their hygiene, as they have not been cleaned for nigh on five years." The Headmaster smiled at the look on her face. "You might want to start there; it looks like you might be here for a while." He left closing and warding the door behind him.

Phaelan went to the door and tried the handle, only to pull her hand away when something like an electric shock passed through her arm.

"Shit, that hurt," she grimaced, shaking her numb hand. Looking over at Snape sitting with one hip on a desk, she snapped, "You might have warned me."

"Experience is the best teacher, I find." Snape drawled. "Since this is your fault, I think you should have the privilege of starting in the toilet."

"What do you mean, my fault? I wasn't the one who drew a wand on you." Phaelan yelled.

"No, you just trailed me through the castle, casting threats and accusations at me for all and sundry to hear. I'm surprised half of Hogsmeade doesn't now know He who must not be named made me a eunuch," roared Snape into Phaelan's face.

Suddenly the booming voice of the headmaster flooded the room.

"This is your last warning. The only thing you're going to get from now until your detention is over, is water. No food. If I must intervene one more time, the threat of thrashing will no longer be a threat. GET TO WORK."

Glaring at Snape one last time, Phaelan grabbed one of everything from the cleaning supplies and moved to the office door. Just as she entered the office, Snape heard her utter, "Fucking bastard." under her breath. He wasn't sure who she meant. Taking off his robes and frock coat, Snape decided to start on the windows.

The morning passed into the afternoon. Phaelan had cleaned the small powder room off of her filthy office. She had twice sent for clean water and rags. It had taken two hours for the bathroom to become even marginally usable. When she flushed, the water had been filled with rust and other things best not thought about. A dozen flushes later, the water started to clear. The hand basin was just as bad. She then turned to her supposed office.

Snape had cleaned the muck off of the windows and turned to look at the rest of the room. It didn't improve with more light. The illumination just revealed more dirt. He started sweeping the floors prior to mopping them down. The activity reminded him more of his apprenticeship, than a detention. Detentions were short; an apprenticeship seemed interminable.

Phaelan came into the classroom again. "The bathroom is usable again, but there's no toilet paper."

She had taken a strip of rag and used it to tie her hair into a rough pony tail. Her clothes were smeared with dirt and her nails were broken from scrubbing. Using the back of her hand, Phaelan unconsciously, wiped her nose, streaking more dirt on its end. Severus sat for a moment regarding her, as she looked out the freshly cleaned windows. Her appearance reminded him of the Muggle fairy tale of Cinderella. He smiled to himself, thinking how lovely she looked in her dirty rags; not that he'd let her know.

With a loud Pop, Polly appeared in the room with a tray. "Polly is bringing you refreshments, as ordered by Master Dumbledore." She put the tray down on the cleanest desk she could find. The little elf's nose wrinkled up at the sight of so much dust. She drew her finger across the surface of another desk and rubbed the dirt between her thumb and forefinger.

"Very dirty place. You is doing elf's work here, Miss, Master."

Polly walked to the tray and looked at it sadly. "All Polly could bring is water." Suddenly she brightened, "Polly can give you a small treat and not break the rules." she declared.

Phaelan approached hoping for food, as did Snape. Polly snapped her fingers and suddenly another bowl appeared beside the pitcher of water.

"Ice, to make your water cold," Polly declared, with a giant elfin smile.

Phaelan slumped, "Thank you Polly." The elf disappeared with a snap of her fingers.

Picking up a small cube, Phaelan popped it in her mouth. At Snape's look, she told him "At least you can crunch the ice. It makes you feel as if you're eating."

Following her lead, Snape took some ice. She was right. Must be some psychological thing about chewing he thought.

Phaelan turned and looked at the wizard reduced to scrubbing floors on his knees. His white linen shirt clung to him where he was perspiring in the hot summer afternoon. Without all his black accoutrements, Snape was lean and well toned. The mindless work took the lines from his face and he actually looked his age. Finally, the face fit the amazing voice.

They continued scrubbing and wiping for the rest of the afternoon, actually coordinating their work to finish faster. The room was becoming darker as the sun moved to the other side of the castle. The place actually didn't look bad now. All the furniture had been washed, the floors scoured upon hands and knees; even the shelving and blackboard had been tackled and conquered.

Phaelan was exploring the desk drawers, they were empty, save for dust and dead crawling things. Immune to that now, she took the time to clean them out and think of how she would organize. While Snape walked around the room, arranging the students desks into straight rows. Phaelan decided to check out the cupboard to the side.

The exterior doors had been washed but the insides had been left. Phaelan turned the handle and pulled open the right side. Something passed her in a blur of movement and she stumbled backwards to avoid it. She tripped over a chair and landed on her backside on the floor. Looking up, Phaelan saw the shapeless thing suddenly take form.

It was a figure from her recurring nightmares. A young African girl who had been mutilated as Phaelan watched; the CIA handlers had held Phaelan back knowing she would be next if she interfered.

"You can't be here, you died four years ago. You're not here, go away. It wasn't my fault, I wanted to help you. I wanted to," Phaelan shouted, as she tried to crawl backwards away from the creature approaching her.

Snape looked up as Phaelan fell and saw the Bogart take the shape of a young African girl who had been a victim of some atrocity. She was missing one arm from the shoulder, the other from the elbow and appeared to walk on the bloody knee stumps, where her legs had been hacked off. He ran to Phaelan and pulled her to her feet. He looked one last time at the creature and saw the face missing a nose and having the eyeballs hanging from the sockets.

"Its alright it's not real," he said, pushing her behind him so that he would be directly in front of the Bogart. The creature changed shape once more and took on the form of the red eyed demonic figure of Voldemort.

Snape snapped his fingers and called, "Polly." The little elf appeared immediately and saw what was happening.

"Polly know what to do!" the little elf cried, as she ran in front of the Bogart and held her hand out as if to halt the creature.

"You shall not harm the Miss or Master. Go back in the cupboard Back!" Polly commanded and walked forward, until the Bogart was once again behind the locked doors of the cabinet Phaelan had opened.

"Is a nasty creature is a Bogart," declared Polly. "Polly will have the housekeeping elves take it away tomorrow, Miss." and again disappeared with the snap of her fingers.

Snape turned to Phaelan, who was still shaken and whispered. "It's gone; it can't harm you if you don't let it. The spell is simple enough for children to perform with their wand. " He lifted Phaelan's tear streaked dirty face and looked into her eyes.

"I have no magic way to get rid of my fear. No simple spell to take away the feeling of failing another human being, so horribly." Phaelan looked into the darkness of the man before her once more. "Was that him?" she asked.

Snape nodded. Without speaking he pulled her to his body and enclosed her in his arms, holding her as closely as he could. Phaelan responded, wrapping her arms about his waist and burrowing her head in his shoulder. They stood that way for a long time, neither wanting to let go. The comfort they shared with each other, had been missing from their lives for many years. This was a treasured moment for them; a rare commodity in their dark world.

Phaelan suddenly felt a draught on her bare shoulder. Looking over Severus shoulder, she saw a shadow cast by the edge of the door.

"Look, the door is open." she said breaking the moment.

Releasing her slightly, Snape turned to look keeping one arm firmly around her waist.

"I guess we're free," observed Phaelan in a small voice. She too kept one arm around Severus, reluctant to lose what they had just shared.

"Come, we should get out of here before the old fool changes his mind," Snape decided.

Releasing her, he grabbed his robes and coat. He turned and, grabbing her hand, led Phaelan out of their Detention room. They walked in silence to the portrait entrance of her room. Phaelan gave her password and made ready to enter.

"I guess I'll see you at dinner in the Great Hall then." She smiled at Snape, who still held her hand.

He shook his head. "No." Snape lifted his brow at her questioning frown. "In my rooms, at 7:00 o'clock."

Looking into his dark eyes, she replied, "Alright; by floo?"

He nodded and kissed her hand before releasing it. As he walked away, she heard him call over his shoulder, "Don't forget to wash your face."

As she walked in her door, the lady in her portrait uttered "Tsk, tsk my dear, you look an awful sight."

Phaelan made straight for the bathroom, stripping as she went. She didn't immediately look in the mirror. When she finally got a glimpse of herself, Phaelan gasped in shock. Her hair was gnarled and knotted, cobwebs and dust capping her unruly mess. Even worse was her face, tear streaked and filthy with dirt from her labours. Phaelan took a moment to look at her hands, which were now engrained with dirt, any pretence of a manicure long gone.

"Polly," Phaelan called, "What time is it?" she demanded from the elf when it appeared.

"6:00 o'clock Miss, dinner in the Great Hall," announced Polly.

"I'm having dinner with Professor Snape, Polly, at 7." Phaelan had started the shower and jumped in.

"Oh," answered the elf, then suddenly realizing what Phaelan meant, "Oh! Polly is a ladies elf, Miss; Polly knows what to do."

Polly was suddenly the happiest elf in Hogwarts at that moment. She was performing the duties her mother and aunts had prepared her for. She went through Phaelan's drawers and pulled out fresh undergarments. Not just any, mind you, only the prettiest, laciest, most feminine for her Miss. Then she went to the wardrobe looking for the Miss's evening gowns. There were none. Polly was disappointed. How could she do her job without the proper apparel? What to do?

In the dungeons below, Snape was in a similar quandary. He had summoned Dobby as soon as he entered and commanded him to 'Make his rooms appropriate for a lady visitor who did not like doilies and frippery'. Then, he flooed the kitchens for dinner for two; to be served at 7:15. Dobby stood in the middle of the room scratching his head, wondering what had happened to the taciturn master.

"Get on with it, elf," Snape demanded, as he made for his own bathroom. He had never entertained female company in his quarters in all the years he had lived here. Not that he was unfamiliar with entertaining women; it was one of his hobbies. The old Snape preferred to keep it separate from his school life. This was different. Sighing, Severus jumped in the shower, taking the time to use his scented products instead of the course soap he usually used. Feeling his face, he decided to shave again.

Phaelan stepped out of the shower and towelled off. She had decided to wear the denim skirt she had worn to the dinner her first night. She had started to braid her hair when Polly stopped her. "NO Miss, that is for Polly to do. Come and dress."

Phaelan followed the elf into her bedroom to see clothes laid out on the bed. A capped sleeved cotton dress had been transformed into a long gown with long flowing sleeves to the wrist. All her fancy lingerie had been laid out as well.

"Polly will do your hair, Miss." the elf advised, inviting Phaelan to sit at the vanity mirror.

6:50 found Phaelan properly coifed and dressed for a Wizards date. One last thing; her grandmother's locket. Polly stood back and assessed her efforts.

"You is as pretty as a picture, Miss," pronounced Polly, before disappearing.

Phaelan stepped to the fireplace and grabbed the floo powder. Taking a deep breath, she threw it into the hearth and called out for Severus rooms.

Severus had been pacing for ten minutes, wondering what he would do if she didn't come. Ignore her or march to her portrait and demand an explanation. His previous attempts at a relationship with a Muggle had been all fucked up. Looking at his attire, Snape wondered if perhaps he should have been more casual than the dark green silk shirt and black slacks he wore.

His wand had been on the mantle waiting for his return. It was now in his fingers, as he fiddled with the candles to have the light just so. His fears were allayed when the flames in the fireplace turned green, allowing his vision of the previous night to step through.

Approaching Phaelan as she crossed his hearth, Severus offered his hand to her. She looked up and smiled. Snape's breath was momentarily taken from him. Her eyes sparkled with warmth and her smile reached all of her face. He could not recall any woman sparing a look like that for only him.

Phaelan stepped through the flames, to see Severus offering his hand to her. She had never been shown such courtesy, as she had from this man, when he deigned to show it. His attentions made her feel special. Phaelan could not recall feeling more excited or happy than she did at that moment, when Severus welcomed her to his chambers. This must be what it's like to be young and free, she thought.

Dinner passed in a haze of inane conversation, wine and good food. Standing at the end of the meal, Severus took Phaelan by the hand and led her to the sofa facing the fireplace. Dobby had managed to transform his bachelor quarters into something softer, with flowering plants, colourful cushions and scented candles. The flickering light in the room was perfect for quiet company, content to sit closely together and enjoy the moment of peace.

"I've had a wonderful evening, Severus. I'm just sorry I was such a bitch to you earlier. I really didn't know how to get through to you about what I need to do my job." Phaelan was holding his hand in both of hers. She raised it to her mouth and kissed his fingers.

Freeing his hand from hers, Severus cupped her cheek, gently rubbing his thumb over her lips.

"I can't help but feel protective about you, Phaelan. I've seen too many Muggles hurt. It's hard to come to terms with how potentially dangerous you are. You will need to keep reminding me. Just no more talk of castration please." Shape smiled and began to pull her face towards him.

Phaelan smiled at his comment, "I promise, no more talk of....that, and you will understand, I do regard all men as my peers, lest we have any doubt of who takes the lead in what." She finally let herself sink into his darkness, reaching to touch his lips with a finger.

Close enough now to feel the heat from each others breath, both closed their eyes and leaned forward the fraction of space to kiss; a small chaste kiss, that seemed to break down a barrier.

Reaching with both hands to hold her head, Snape pulled his woman, as he thought of her, into a deep exploring embrace. Her response was as deep as his, opening her mouth, pulling him in to taste and be tasted. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Phaelan sought to keep him with her as long as she could.

Pulling away long enough to pull her legs up to lie beside his on the deep sofa, he pushed her back onto the cushions and leaned over her to continue their exploration. Phaelan sighed as he kissed her closed eyes, her nose, and her chin.

"You looked beautiful today, standing in the mire of that classroom with your hair tied back with a rag and grime coating your face," he told her, as he nipped her lips.

Phaelan laughed. "You were no picture of perfection sir, all cobwebs and sweaty dirt. God you looked soooh sexy," she murmured into his ear.

"Mmmmh, don't let Albus hear you say that, or he'll lay claim to a new matchmaking service," he mumbled into her neck as she giggled.

"Severussss. Do you know how erotic your name sounds when I whisper it in your ear?" Phaelan was stroking his back and licking his ear driving Severus to distraction.

"Only when you say it." he whispered in reply, as he took possession of her lips again, in a deep kiss that blocked out all other reality.

Unfortunately, reality came crashing back to earth, with the burning pain of a summons from the Dark Lord. Snape sat up with a gasp and clasped his left arm to his chest.

"Severus..." Phaelan gasped, as she was wrenched from her reverie.

He lifted her off his legs to sit up on the sofa, both strived to catch their breath as they separated. Rising, Snape began his mental preparation for the meeting.

"Go to Albus and tell him I've been summoned. He will explain further," Snape instructed.

"How do you know?" Phaelan wondered in fear for him.

"The Mark," He answered, showing her the now black tattoo on his left arm. "Now go," he commanded, turning to become the Death eater Snape.

Phaelan flooed back to her rooms and quickly changed into her usual jeans and sweater. Exiting her portrait, she ran to the Headmaster's office to tell him about Severus. When she saw the gargoyles, she realized she didn't know the password.

"Headmaster, I need to see you. Please let me in," she yelled at the stone statue.

"Of course, my dear." Dumbledore answered directly behind her. "You have something you need to tell me."

Smiling at her with a gentle twinkle, Dumbledore knew what she was about to say.

"Severus has been summoned, he told me to tell you." Phaelan simply said.

"Come;" the old man said, as he led her to his office and bid her to sit.

"You want to know what the summoning is all about?" Stated Dumbledore, rather than asked. At her nod he continued. "Voldemort uses the mark placed upon his followers as a summons. The Deatheaters are all linked through it to Tom."

"Tom?" wondered Phaelan.

"Tom Riddle, the boy who became the creature known as Voldemort." answered the old man sadly.

"You knew him?" Phaelan wondered.

"I was one of his teachers." the old man sadly replied. "When he summons his followers, they must attend him. If they fail to do so, they are punished or worse. Severus is well known to Tom; he works on potions for him. In that capacity, Severus is often privy to information that, otherwise, would be lost to the Order."
Dumbledore stood and walked to the windows.

"In his other capacity, my Potions Master is a spy for Voldemort. He carries information back to his other master. Usually information I've given him." Albus turned and looked at her again. "He has my full confidence that he is working for me and that his other master is suffering the ruse."

"How long do the meetings go on?" Phaelan asked "What do they do?"

"Organize, plan and execute Voldemort's orders." Dumbledore answered the second question first. "Tom is often moved to reward good service and will have a prize or two for the faithful. Rape, sodomy, torture; nothing too great for his faithful to enjoy. They take as long as necessary."

"Severus takes part in this...this atrocity?" asked Phaelan, through her suddenly dry mouth.

"He does what he must. I do not press for details," Dumbledore answered honestly. "I do know he has saved many from the excruciating torture that some of Tom's followers enjoy plying upon others."

"How?" she asked still numb from the Headmaster's revelation.

"Through peaceful eternal rest," was the answer.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Snape returned much later in the evening. He had returned to the Three Broom Sticks and flooed in to the Headmaster's office. As soon as he stepped through the flames, it was evident he had been injured. As he tried to stand he collapsed to one knee and appeared to have spasms in his extremities.

"Severus, you're injured my boy," said Dumbledore, as he sought to support Snape as he rose.

"I did not please my other master this evening," Snape croaked. "I had no information on the Grangers, so to weaken their daughter." Another spasm wracked his body and he fell to the floor.

The head master flooed the hospital wing and transported Snape there, with terse instruction for Phaelan to return to her rooms and remain there for the night.

Speechless for once, Phaelan did as instructed and wondered again at what manner of man Severus Snape was. She returned to her rooms, not ready to sleep. Instead she pulled out some books on magic curses to see if she could figure out what had happened to Snape. Reading late into the night, she finally found a nasty curse that appeared to fit the symptoms Severus was suffering. The Cruciatus Curse, an unforgivable curse so named because of the consequences of using it. Reading further, Phaelan noted a list of the physical effects to the body, following being assaulted by the curse: muscle spasms during and after the casting of the curse, excruciating pain in all the extremities, affects to the heart and lungs then eventually, with extended use, damage to the brain. Phaelan closed the book wondering how the Magical world dealt with it. She shook her head, something was familiar about some of the symptoms of the curse; she wasn't sure what yet. Rising, she decided a hot bath was needed followed by an attempt at sleep.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday morning dawned to a dull, damp day. She pulled out the skipping rope when she got up to keep up her routine exercise. After bathing, she went to the Great Hall to find most of the staff already there.

"Did I miss something?" Phaelan asked as she approached the table.

"No, dear." smiled Minerva, "This is the day Madam Malkin sets aside for teachers to get a discount on new robes. You wouldn't have got the letter as you don't have your licence yet."

"How many schools are there?" Phaelan wondered.

"Well," began Pomona Sprout, "You have your Great Henge School of True Druids. The Academy of Pagan arts and that funny school down in Jersey, what's it called Minerva?" She asked.

"You mean the one where they run around nude in the summer?" wondered the older teacher.

"I think I saw a job at that school," said an amazed Phaelan.

"What?" was the surprised reaction around the breakfast table.

"Yeah, they advertised on the internet too," laughed Phaelan, but at the disappointed stares, she was quick to reassure the company present, "You guys were first."
The table guests relaxed back into their seats, assured of their place in internet history.

"Miss McKenzie, I have been asked to help you conduct your preliminary experiments with your instruments to measure wand magic. I thought my class would be the best place. Would that be suitable for you?" asked the ever gentile Professor Flitwick.

Phaelan was surprised at his offer, but realized Severus was still recovering.

"That's fine, professor," she replied, hiding her concern.

"Very good, I'll call for you at your rooms in an hour and help transport the necessary parts you need." He smiled and bowed before leaving the table.

"What about Severus, how is he Headmaster?" Phaelan quietly asked.

With a small smile and a pat on her hand, the old man tried to reassure her. "He is resting well. Madam Pomfrey has dealt with this before. Not to worry."

"Can I visit him?" She hated how it sounded, like a child asking a favour from a parent.

"Not just yet; soon." The old man twinkled leaving her just a little put out but after yesterday, Phaelan didn't want to push him face to face.


!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The day passed fruitfully, if not contentedly for Phaelan. She couldn't get Severus off her mind. It took all her discipline to concentrate on her experiments, tests she had hoped to share with Snape. The diminutive Flitwick was positively jovial all day making it hard to feel let down but the joy was lessened for her.

Unable to take the waiting any longer, Phaelan went to the hospital wing later in the evening and found the doors open. Quietly, she entered and looked at the beds finally seeing one occupied near the end of the ward. Looking around again, Phaelan quickly made her way to Snape's side. His face was tense while he slept as if still in pain. She so much wanted to touch him, to take away the pain but was afraid she would cause him more discomfort. As Severus moved in his sleep, she noticed small spasms in the muscles of his hand. Unable to resist, Phaelan took the hand nearest to her and began to massage gently with her thumb directly over the area of the spasm. It seemed to relax a bit. Emboldened, she continued with his other hand, both arms and his feet.

Phaelan didn't see the Mediwitch and Headmaster enter. Madam Pomfrey made towards the bed but was held back by Dumbledore. A long time later, he indicated she should approach and tell Phaelan she should leave.

"Miss McKenzie, I don't believe you have permission to be here." the Mediwitch began gently.

"I had to see him. In the navy, when our partner is hurt, we're expected to help them recover. I just gave some gentle massage." Phaelan offered. There was no guilt in her tone. She felt righteous in her actions.

Poppy pulled her wand and cast a diagnostic over Snape. The dark red patches revealed where the curse still acted. Surprisingly, where Phaelan had massaged, the curse had dissipated or lessened.

"You seemed to have helped him, Phaelan." she smiled. "Between you and me, I think we'll keep it a secret for now."

Phaelan just nodded as she sat holding his hand.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Snape had been released to his rooms the next day and joined her and Flitwick on Thursday for the experiments. Walking down the hallway, Dumbledore stopped for a moment to look in the classroom. He smiled in contentment. Here were three scholars, recognized as experts in their fields, arguing, debating, positing and refuting theories. This was a sight Dumbledore had only ever dreamt of, when Muggle scientist and wizard Master might put their heads together and work to a common goal. If only his students could see this and understand the importance of the three brilliant minds standing in this simple classroom. Satisfied, the old man turned and continued his walk, happy he had been privy to this moment in time.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Rising on Saturday, Phaelan dressed and made ready to become a US Navy pilot again. She donned the one piece flight suit and went to breakfast. As she entered the Great Hall, one by one, her colleagues stared.

"It's a flight suit. We wear it when we are piloting a plane. It's practical and with the pressure.....Never mind. It's regulation, okay." She sat and looked at kippers with dismay.

She tapped her plate. "Toast and a hard boiled egg."

"Do you enjoy flying Phaelan?" Asked Madam Hooch.

"Yeah, ever since I got my licence. I get such a feeling of freedom when I'm up there." she replied as she munched on her toast.

"I know what you mean. The first time I took off on a broom, I thought nothing could possibly be better than this and I still feel that way." smiled the flying instructor.

"A jet plane isn't quite a broom though." offered Phaelan.

"Well I read about how Muggles fly and they use something called a stick to control the airplane, don't they?" Asked Hooch.

"Yes, I guess we do even though there's a lot more to it than just that." replied Phaelan trying to humour the woman.

"Well, there you go!" She declared, "we do have something in common. There's nothing quite like having a sturdy stick between your legs to make you feel like you're the mistress of the world."

Phaelan wondered exactly where the conversation was going but jumped on board for the ride.

"So Hooch, do you prefer a loose stick that moves at the slightest twitch of your hand or a firm one that you need to be forceful with?" Asked Sprout oblivious to the double meaning of her question.

Snape, to Phaelan's right snorted into his coffee. She kicked him softly under the table.

"Well, both types have their advantages but I really enjoy a good sturdy stick between my thighs. Something thick enough that you can feel it when you tighten up your muscles for the high climb." Hooch appeared to grab the broomstick in front of her.

"You can't go wrong with a nice thick stick between your legs that will let you ride for a good long time without getting tired. Something to grab onto with both hands not this skinny stuff designed for speed they pass off today. I like a big one and a long steady ride." declared Hooch much to the quiet amusement of the table.

Phaelan excused herself shortly after the Potions Master. He had left pleading a potion requiring his attention but had wanted to see Phaelan off.

Phaelan was in her chambers ready to floo when a knock came to her door.

"Come in." she called.

"I want to come with you." It was Severus dressed in Muggle attire.

Phaelan was stunned. While she had seen him in transfigured clothes, the dark grey slacks, grey Polo shirt and black blazer were a departure she had not expected. This man never failed to surprise her just as she thought she had him pegged.

"I've made no arrangements to bring a guest on base. I have no authority........." she tried to explain.

"Then I'll come to your flat and wait. I want to check it for any intrusion and add extra wards anyways." he interrupted stepping closer to her.

"I'll be gone for a few hours" she warned.

"Do you have time to show me your computer if we leave now?" he asked now holding her hand.

"Well that's an original line." Phaelan smiled. "Lets go and make a hacker out of you." she teased as she stepped into the green flames.

"A what?" Snape asked as he followed her through.

Phaelan opened her computer and instructed him on the basics. He did learn quickly she had to admit. After warning him about the delete key, she left him to his diversion. Grabbing her bag and keys, Phaelan kissed him on the cheek as she left for the air base. Severus touched his face where her kiss had landed. It had been a casual act if one were to have seen it he supposed but no one had ever given him such a leave taking before. He decided he liked it.

Phaelan reported in to the Air Sergeant on duty and went to the pilot's locker room to get ready. She greeted a couple of male pilots there and dressed in her equipment. Later as she walked to the flight line, Phaelan ruminated on all that had transpired since the last time she was here. So much in such a short time; she never wanted to back to her old life now. Her future lay in Hogwarts, she was certain of it.

After an uneventful if enjoyable flight, Phaelan went to sign off on her flight log. At the counter, she noticed a sign pointing to forms 'Request for flight pass for non military.' Walking over she lifted the package.

"All right, Lt. Commander, your booked for the same time next month, is that okay?" asked the Non-com behind the counter.

"Yes, that's fine Sergeant. Sergeant, how long has this program been going on?" Phaelan asked indicating the form in her hand.

"Just started Ma'am, new public relations idea. It's not free though, I think they're charging $200.00 US."

"I see, thank you sergeant." Phaelan smiled to herself as she left.

Snape had spent the day engrossed with the computer. So much information at ones fingertips so quickly. When he tired of sitting he got up and browsed the library. Looking out of the front windows, he looked at the Thames River and wondered what history this site had once held and what history he could leave behind. Thinking back to his first visit, Snape was emboldened to seek out her bedroom. Still no female frippery just bold colours and geometric patterns. There was a picture beside her bed. He saw it was Phaelan several years younger and older woman, likely her grandmother. On top of the dresser, there was another group picture of men and women in uniform. She did not appear to be in the photo. On the back of the frame there was a panel containing several signatures from, Snape assumed, the people on the front.

He was leaving her room when he heard the front door open. He ducked into the bathroom and flushed the toilet to cover himself.

"Severus, I'm home." she called. "Hope you weren't too bored."

"No, I've had a pleasantly quiet day of research on your computer and your library. Now, if you like, I'd like to take you out for dinner. Assuming you have something else to wear here."

"Casual or formal?" she asked.

"Casual definitely." was the answer.

Phaelan went to her room and found the same suit she wore for her first interview. Coming back to the living room, she saw Snape look at her strangely. "What is it?"

"Why do Muggle women insist on wearing pants?" he asked.

"Because they're comfortable and practical." she answer matter-of-factly.

Snape just shook his head and took her hand. "Come my practical one."

They went outside to the spot they had apparated from before. Pulling her close without discomfort now he took them both to a Wizarding establishment which also catered to Muggles.

"Where are we?" asked Phaelan

"Edinburgh." he replied as he escorted her to the old brick building the restaurant was located in.

They enjoyed an early dinner and decided to walk. The summer daylight lasted long into the evening in Scotland. Having seen enough of the old streets, Snape apparated them to a seaside Wizarding village to walk on the shore and watch the sunset. Sitting on a pier they were content just to be together.

Suddenly, a scream rang out in the just now dark village. The sound of shouts and running followed shortly after. Coming off the pier, the couple headed towards the disturbance. All at once a green light from a wand shot up into the air coming to form the same symbol that appeared on Snape's arm.

"We have to get out of here now." Snape ordered as her grabbed her arm.

"What was that thing?" Phaelan asked.

Looking angrily back at the hated mark in the sky he uttered only one word. "Morsmordre."