"Is she dead?"

"I don't know. She certainly looks dead..."

"I wonder if detention with Professor Snape is as brutal as everyone says it is?"

"Considering the state Lauren's in right now, I would say that the rumors are true..."

Lauren groaned at the incessant chatter that surrounded her, disturbing her sleep - which she coveted more fiercely than wine.

"Oh good. She's not dead." That sounded distinctly like Pansy Parkinson.

Lauren groggily blinked open her eyes only to see four faces peering down at her: Tracey looking concerned and the other three staring at her with morbid fascination. She groaned again and rubbed tiredly at her face, wishing she could hex them into oblivion and go back to sleep.

Children!

"Will you lot shut up so that I can get some sleep!" she snapped peevishly, rolling over and reaching out blindly for the covers.

"Lauren," Tracey started, her voice taking on that slightly nervous quality whenever she tried to deal with her friend's volatile mood that followed when she first awoke. "It's almost noon..."

Lauren froze in her attempt to find the blankets to cover herself, Tracey's words somehow sinking into her sleep deprived brain.

Noon? I've been asleep almost twelve hours...? No, there must be some mistake...

Lauren rolled over and squinted at the clock resting on her bedside table. Her eyes widened when she realized that Tracey was, indeed, correct.

Well, fuck me...

"What did Professor Snape make you do for detention?" Daphne asked, flicking her sleek blonde hair over her shoulder as she stared at Lauren with wide baby blue eyes.

Lauren sat up, still staring disbelievingly at the clock.

Half the day wasted. And I still need to finish my homework, including writing all the properties of moonstones for Snape. What the hell is a moonstone anyway?!...

Tracey gave a discreet cough, snapping Lauren out of her spiraling thoughts. She glanced over at Daphne, who was still waiting for a reply.

"Oh, um. He had me brewing that blasted potion over and over again."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Tracey stated reasonably. The other girls looked slightly put off. Lauren supposed they had been expecting some horror story of some sort.

Lauren gave a dry chuckle, though it was without humor. "It was when I made it explode each time. I don't think Professor Snape was very happy with me by the end of it."

"He hasn't given you detention again, has he?" Pansy asked, almost as though the very idea terrified her.

Lauren shook her head. "No. Though he did order me out of his classroom by the end of it and told me if I wasn't out of his sight within ten seconds, he was going to hex me with boils that would make Neville's seem like butterfly kisses."

That part had been true. Very true.

Millicent chuckled, unable to hide her childish glee at Lauren's misfortune. "That's bad. Professor Snape is usually quite lenient with us Slytherins. You must have really made him angry."

That's an understatement...especially when the last potion exploded quite spectacularly and doused not only the papers he had been grading, but Professor Snape as well.

The dark look shadowing his features, as well as the threat that had followed, had sent Lauren scampering away as fast as she could. Snape, she was fast learning, was not a man to mess with, especially when angered.

"Yeah, I think it's best I avoid him for the next few days," Lauren said.

"Days? Try weeks, Lauren," Daphne piped up.

Millicent and Pansy sniggered at the very thought.

Lauren grabbed a pillow and tossed it in their general direction, but this only caused their sniggers to morph into peals of laughter.

Lauren glowered at them and extended her arm stiffly, pointing to the door. "Out!"

Pansy smirked at Lauren, though there was nothing sinister about it. She motioned for the others to follow her and as they exited the room, Lauren overheard Pansy mutter, "I think Lauren is going to become like Professor Snape."

"She sure imitates him well enough," Daphne replied.

Their voices faded and Lauren couldn't hear the rest of the gossip about her.

Her stomach chose that moment to let out a loud gurgling growl.

"It's almost time for lunch," Tracey stated, glancing down at her wristwatch.

Food won over sleep and Lauren heaved herself out of bed and dressed in pale blue jeans, a powder blue shirt and white trainers. Lastly, she threw on a fluffy grey sweater and was ready to go.

She was immensely thankful that Blinky had procured the clothes for her, but Lauren wondered how she was possibly going to afford a new wardrobe each time her body went through a growth spurt. She had no income to speak of now and she highly doubted funds from Ministry of Magic would cover much in the way of living expenses.

Lauren sighed. She would worry about that later. For now, her more pressing need was to find food and tea. Lots of it. She was utterly famished.

Maybe consciously calling her magic to the surface had drained her in ways she couldn't have foreseen, though she wondered why it didn't affect the other kids as it did her. Did it have something to do with children being more open-minded and adaptable? Even though she had a body of a child, her mind was still very much an adult. And with an adult mind came the benefit of being more focused during class and while working on her homework. But now, it seemed, this attribute was working against her, especially with things that came naturally to magical children, such as channeling their magic without a conscious thought.

She would have to bring up this theory with Snape when next she spoke to him.

Lauren shuddered at the thought as they headed down to the Great Hall. As far as she was concerned, she was determined to avoid him for the foreseeable future – just until his anger towards her had simmered down exponentially. Knowing Snape, that could be months, maybe even years.

Almost a week passed and soon they had their very first flying lesson, which was to be with the Gryffindors.

Lauren trudged towards the training field with her fellow Slytherins, knowing full well what was to transpire in this particular lesson. But that was not the reason for her reluctance.

Lauren wasn't a particularly nervous flyer, nor was she afraid of heights. No, it was the fact that she was going to have to fly a broom that had her on edge. Those things really didn't look that safe at all.

There's no seatbelt! And no helmet. I'm going to crack my skull open for sure, she thought with growing unease, briefly pondering how many injuries had been sustained in this particular class. Maybe it was best not to dwell on it.

Madam Hooch was a fascinating witch, to say the least. She sported short grey hair that was wiry and sticking up in a spectacular spiky hairdo, and her yellow eyes gazed at them all sternly as she watched them approach, reminding Lauren very much of a cat. Even when she spoke, her voice was gravelly, sounding almost like a husky purr.

Once everyone had arrived, she had each house line up, facing each other, and instructed them to extend their right hand over their brooms, which were lying innocently on the ground by their feet.

"Now I want you all to say 'Up!'," she instructed in a no-nonsense tone as she bustled about with pent-up energy. "Once you have your broom in your hand, mount it and get a feel for it."

Lauren regarded her broom thoughtfully as a chorus of 'up's' sounded around her.

"Up!" she commanded.

The broom twitched, but otherwise remained stubbornly still.

Lauren narrowed her eyes and snarled, "Up!"

Still nothing. Well aware that almost all the other students were now mounting their brooms, Lauren drew in a deep breath and channeled every bit of magic she could to the surface. "UP!"

Suddenly the broom shot up, the handle smacking her square on the nose with a sickening scrunch.

Lauren stumbled back, her eyes watering, and clutched at her nose as intense pain cleaved through her face.

"Lauren! Are you okay?" she heard Tracey ask beside her, her voice high pitched with concern.

"Goddam son of a Willy Wonka!" she cursed loudly, her ridiculous swear word, thankfully, muffled by her cupped hands.

"Here, let me have a look," Madam Hooch commanded, her hands gently prying Lauren's own away from her face. She took one look and tsked aloud. "A broken nose by the looks of it. Nothing Madam Pomfrey can't fix -."

She was about to say something more when there was a commotion behind her, distracting her as well as the rest of the class. Neville's broom, with Neville still on it and clinging on for dear life, shot up straight through the air. Lauren watched in horror as it rose higher and higher until Neville's grip slipped and he plummeted to the ground, landing with a sickening thud.

Madam Hooch rushed over to his crumpled form, and Lauren heard a rush as the Gryffindors sighed in relief when a whimper was heard from him. The Slytherins, though, stood to side, watching with baleful glee.

Lauren was starting to notice this shift in the Slytherins. When in the seclusion of their Common Room they were quite pleasant to be around, acting like regular kids. But once they stepped out of the dungeons a change overcame them and they became determined to live up to their ruthless reputation.

Hooch helped Neville to his feet and barked out to the rest of the class not to mount their brooms under any circumstance, otherwise they would find themselves expelled. She caught Lauren's eye and motioned with her head for the Slytherin to follow her; a silent order that Lauren dared not disobey. Hooch, while likeable, was not a teacher you crossed.

Once in the Hospital Wing, Lauren was directed to an empty bed while Madam Pomfrey fussed over Neville. His injury was, apparently, significantly more dire than her own, and the Healer was choosing to prioritize whom she treated first.

Lauren yanked the curtains closed and lay upon the bed, her already pummeled spirits plummeting even more as she waited. She was struggling and she didn't know what to do.

This is ridiculous! I'm not a witch. I can't even do magic properly. My broken nose is proof of that.

The minutes ticked by.

What am I doing here in a place I clearly don't belong? she thought morosely.

So deeply immersed was she in her turmoil that she dd not hear the tread of booted feet entering the Hospital Wing.

It was Snape's deep and sarcastic voice sounding out that snapped her out of her musings. "I heard one of my Slytherins has had the misfortune of ending up here."

"Yes, she's in that bed over there," Madam Pomfrey stated distractedly.

Lauren held her breath as the footsteps made their way to her bed, and suddenly the curtains were yanked back sharply to reveal the dark Potion Master himself.

"Why am I not surprised?" he drawled as his gaze settled on her.

Lauren glared at him, well aware that, right now, she must be a sight with her bruised, bloodied and swollen nose.

"Not. A. Word," she growled, crossing her arms firmly over her chest. The last thing her morale wanted, or needed, was Snape openly laughing at her.

Snape pressed his lips together, though she could see the corners twitching. Finally he gave up the fight and openly smirked at her.

"I swear I'm going to hex you as soon as I learn how," she muttered. Then, in a softer and more depressed voice, she finished, "If I ever learn how..."

Snape regarded her for a moment and, coming to a decision, shut the curtains and came to sit in the chair beside her bed. He crossed his legs at the knee and observed her shrewdly.

"What happened?" he asked in all seriousness.

Lauren scowled and averted her gaze from his own penetrating one. It was embarrassing enough that the accident had happened at all, not only in front of the Gryffindors, but her fellow Slytherins as well. Now she was going to be forced to recount it all back to Snape, who would surely find it amusing.

"I tried to get that blasted broom to rise and eventually resorted to channeling my magic to make it obey me."

"I see," he remarked, folding his hands in his lap. Lauren was somewhat taken aback that he hadn't made a snide comment yet. "Did it work?"

Lauren pointed to her nose. "What do you think?"

The corners of his lips twitched again but, to his credit, he did not laugh.

Lauren huffed, but the fight had long since left her. She turned her head away and mumbled, "I hope Dumbledore comes back soon with some news. The sooner I leave this world the better. I don't belong here."

"You've barely been here a week, Miss Ward."

"Exactly! Hermione Granger can already levitate a feather and transfigure her matchstick into a needle. All I've succeeded in doing is exploding my potions and smacking myself in the face with a bumbling broomstick!"

The seconds ticked by as Snape stared back at her with a certain degree of disdain washing over his features.

"Am I correct in assuming that you are choosing to give up?" he finally asked.

Lauren stared up at the ceiling, tears pricking her eyes as she refused to meet his gaze. "It's a lost cause. Like I said before, I don't belong here."

Silence descended between them like an iron curtain.

When Snape finally spoke, his tone was distant and aloof. "Miss Granger, though considered brilliant by her counterparts and teachers alike, is only able to regurgitate back answers without truly thinking for herself. She may have the knowledge and skill to enact spells and brew potions to required standards, but her refusal to think outside the box, per say, inhibits her from truly being unique and brilliant." Lauren slowly turned her head to look at Snape as his speech captivated her, as it always did. He commanded respect and his voice was his tool, which he used mercilessly. As he was doing right now. "She will never know how to create something new or unique, whether it be a new spell or charm, or brew a potion borne of her own imagination. Her inability to think for herself limits her and, by extension, limits her brilliance."

Snape paused, gauging whether Lauren was listening and absorbing his words. "If you choose to measure yourself against her then I agree with you - you might as well leave now. You will just end up becoming like the rest of the mindless dunderheads inhabiting this castle. And I have neither the patience nor the inclination to waste my time further with you." He rose abruptly to his feet.

"If that was supposed to be a pep talk then let me be the first to tell you that you completely suck at it!" Lauren snapped, the fight returning to her full force.

"I am not here to coddle you, Miss Ward, but I will gladly help you realize your potential if you would but stop your morose sulking and rise to the challenge."

Lauren sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She opened her mouth to retort, but Snape held his hand up sharply, halting her in her tracks. Lauren glared at him but shut her mouth.

Snape breathed in deeply through his nose and visually composed himself. "When I showed you how to channel your magic, what did you feel?"

Lauren felt derailed by this sudden turn in conversation. Where was Snape heading with this? As always, she felt like she was walking into a trap of his own design when she had dealings with him.

"I felt your magic," she finally answered.

"And what did it feel like?"

"Powerful," she answered instantly.

Snape gave a nod of approval.

"And...welcoming," she continued, a slight frown marring her brows at the memory. Snape stilled at her words, his eyes widening ever so slightly, though Lauren did not notice as she concentrated. "It was like your magic called to my own."

Snape blinked and then after a prolonged pause, he cleared his throat, causing Lauren to glance up at him. "Do you want to know what I felt when I called your magic to the surface?"

Lauren eyed him with suspicion. "Okay. I'll bite. What did my magic feel like?"

"Powerful and untempered," he replied honestly, his voice low enough for only her to hear. "Raw magic that, when harnessed correctly, has the exponential potential to become powerful in its own right."

Lauren frowned at his words. "Then why don't I feel it?" she asked in frustration.

"It takes time and practice, Miss Ward. Harnessing your magic doesn't just happen overnight -."

Suddenly the curtains were yanked open and in swooped Madam Pomfrey, all brusque and business-like in her nurse's uniform.

"Harassing my patients again, Severus?" she asked sternly, though her tone had an undercurrent of fondness to it.

Snape had reverted back to Dark Professor mode once more and gave her a noncommittal shrug. "Perhaps," he said, bestowing a rare smile at the Healer. Lauren was surprised to realized that these two were probably good friends. Or as good as friends as any could be when it came to Snape.

Madam Pomfrey scoffed, but Lauren noted there was very little derision to this act. Instead, she pushed past Snape and came to stand in front of Lauren, her eyes narrowing as she studied her bloodied and broken nose. Then she whipped out her wand and muttered something that Lauren couldn't quite make out.

Suddenly the cartilage righted itself with a painful snap and Lauren groaned aloud, too stunned to do much else.

"There. Good as new," the Healer stated before departing as fast as she had arrived without another word.

"Merlin's saggy balls! That hurt," Lauren groaned, tentatively touching her newly repaired nose. She gave it a little wiggle, relieved that the pain was now gone.

"Indeed," Snape intoned dryly, unamused by her choice of words.

She wanted to scoff. She had heard the other students say much, much worse. In fact, it was from one of those students that she learned that particular phrase.

"I shall escort you back to your dormitory to ensure you don't run into any more trouble."

With dawning clarity, Lauren realized that Snape, in his sly underhanded way, was making sure that she made it back safely to her room, especially with the threat of Quirrell looming over her.

The walk back to the Slytherin Common Room was a silent one, with Lauren not quite knowing what to say to him. Snape, as usual, was being his aloof and stony self, preferring silence over incessant chatter.

Before they reached the doors leading to the Slytherin Common Room, he placed his hand on her shoulder to stop her from entering.

"We need to resume our earlier discussion sometime soon," he said, withdrawing his hand.

Lauren inwardly groaned at the prospect. She and Snape gelled about as well as oil and water, and always seemed to clash whenever they were in each other's presence. Yet, somehow, she knew she could trust him. "I suppose another detention is in my future."

The corners of his lips curled sardonically, hinting that she was, indeed, correct. "You, Miss Ward, might just make it as a Seer."

She gave him a smirk to rival his own. "Who knows...I might even replace Professor Trelawney."

If the look that crossed his face was anything to go by, Snape did not relish the idea. "Do let me know when that happy occasion is to occur so that I may at least compose my resignation letter...or epitaph, post haste."

Wait...did Snape just make a joke?! Lauren was stunned into silence.

Snape gave her a curt nod. "We shall talk later, Miss Ward." And with that he departed in a billow of black, his words ringing ominously in her ears.

A week passed by in a flurry of classes and homework, Lauren's twelfth birthday came and went without any acknowledgement or fuss, which suited Lauren just fine. She did not need any reminders that she was, once again, twelve.

Severus Snape did not once try to provoke her as a ruse to get her into detention – something Lauren was very much grateful for. But neither did he try to encourage her to seek him out on her own, instead choosing to maintain a respectably aloof distance. It seemed that he was going to wait for her to make up her mind and come to him when she was ready.

Truthfully, she had been thinking quite a bit about Snape's little pep talk. He was willing to help her; he had declared as much. But by accepting his help and embracing her magical side, she was essentially giving up the hope of ever returning to her old life back in her own world. A large part of her rebelled at the idea of remaining here. She didn't belong here.

Friday night, as she lay in bed, she mulled over what the Sorting Hat had said to her on her first night here. She was supposed to help the Potion Master, but right now it was quite evident that Snape was the one helping her. Definitely not the other way around.

Her thoughts drifted to Snape's inevitable death and hot tears pricked her eyes. Even though he was an utter and callous arse, she knew without a doubt that he was the bravest man she had ever met and didn't deserve the fate that was to befall him. To try and protect the child of both his childhood friend and nemesis whilst maintaining his cover as spy for the side of Light was not going to be an easy task for him.

It all felt unjust to Lauren. Snape would be treading the line perilous between the side of good and evil as he worked both sides, his life dangling precariously in the process as he sought to see his vow through to the very bitter end. All that would be asked of him was almost too much for one man to bear.

By choosing to stay, a sneaky voice sounded in her head. Stay and learn everything Snape is willing to teach you. This will give you the tools to help him in the end. Save the life of a condemned man...

Lauren shook her head. Severus did not want to be saved. He was going to welcome death willingly when the time came.

Unless you can change his mind...

Lauren wanted to smack some sense into that sneaky little voice in her head. She sighed and flung back the covers, knowing sleep would not come to her this night.

Clambering out of bed, she shrugged on her bathrobe and slipped on her matching white slippers. Glancing around she was relieved to find that the other girls were sound asleep, their soft snores punctuating the still night air.

Shooting a quick look at the clock on her bedside table, she saw that it was a little after one in the morning. Lauren chewed her bottom lip indecisively, wondering if she should go.

Coming to a decision, Lauren exited the room as quietly as she could and padded to the Common Room, which was eerily deserted and devoid of any activity. The fire that usually crackled warmly in the hearth had died down to glowing embers.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Lauren swept from the room and paused as she stepped into the dimly lit hallway of the dungeons.

Steeling her nerves that were threatening to fail her, Lauren made her way to the Potion's classroom. Reaching the rough wood door, Lauren drew in a deep breath and pushed open the door, somewhat surprised to find that it hadn't been locked. She paused on the threshold, letting her eyes adjust to the gloom, and then made her way to the other side of the classroom to the door that she knew led to Snape's office.

She raised her hand and gave a firm knock on the wood, the sound echoing painfully loud all around her.

"What are you doing out of bed at this hour?" a sharp voice asked from behind her.

Lauren whirled around, coming face to face with none other than Snape. She hadn't even heard him sneak up behind her.

"I could ask you the same thing," she retorted, clutching at her frantically racing heart.

"I was doing my rounds, looking for wayward students such as yourself," he drawled, his face half cast in shadows. "Now, you haven't answered my question."

"I was looking for..." Lauren paused, wondering if it was too late to back out now. "I was looking for you. I wanted to finish our conversation."

Snape remained eerily still and silent as he regarded her. Then he reached out, his arm brushing past her, and pushed open the door, letting the warm golden light from within spill over the threshold.

"Get in," he ordered.

Lauren stepped into his study, pausing as she let her gaze wander around the interior. A fire was crackling invitingly in the hearth, greatly diminishing the chill that permanently permeated the dungeon walls. A large polished ornate desk was situated on the one side of the room with neat stacks of papers piled on the one end, quill and red ink ready for critical marking. The walls on either side had been converted into bookshelves, each crammed with leather bound tomes. Lauren was curious as to what some of the subject matters were and wondered what types of books held Severus' attention.

Probably 101 ways to a complete and utter arse and make students miserable, Lauren thought.

Lauren spied another door situated in the wall behind the desk and suspected that this was the Potion Master's private rooms. The insanely curious side of her wanted nothing more than to peek inside that room, if only to glimpse the personal side of this dark and mysterious man, but the logical side of her knew that Snape would throttle her if she even dared attempt to invade his privacy.

"Sit down," he instructed as he closed the door securely behind them and brushed past her to sit in the plush green leather chair behind his desk.

Lauren settled into one of the two chairs facing his desk. Once she was seated, Snape waved his hand and a glass of firewhisky appeared on his desk. He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of the tantalizing liquid, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Aren't you going to offer me a glass?"

"No."

"I'm an adult, remember," she pointed out. "Legally entitled to drink."

"But your body is that of a child."

"So?"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, as though he were already regretting letting her in. "So, Miss Ward, it would be exceptionally irresponsible, not to mention immoral, if I not only got a child drunk, but a student on top of that."

"I didn't think your moral compass was that high."

Snape levelled her with a baleful glare. "That's your problem – you do not think," he finally muttered darkly.

"On occasion I have been known to."

"I'm surprised," Snape muttered dryly before downing his drink in one gulp.

Lauren ignored him. "And I've been thinking long and hard about our last conversation."

Snape eyed her with scrutiny and then placed his tumbler down on the table with a dull thud. He sat back and steepled his long fingers in front of him, his index fingers pressed against his lips as he contemplated her. Coming to a decision, he straightened up and clasped his hands in front of him on his desk.

"The root of your problem is that you are struggling to harness your magic and realize your true potential."

"Obviously," she stated sarcastically.

"Interrupt me again and I shall go against my moral code and hex you," he warned.

Lauren huffed, not being able to recall if Severus had ever actually hexed a student, and made a zipping motion against her lips. Snape narrowed his eyes dangerously at her antics.

"As I said before," he continued, "it takes time and patience to learn such techniques. Children are more adaptable, and subconsciously call on their magic without even realizing it. You retain your adult mind, which is not as adaptable as that of a child's, and you are therefore struggling to not only integrate into your life here, but also to channel and harness your magic."

Ah, good. He's been giving my little dilemma some thought. I do hope he has an answer.

Lauren gave a nod of understanding.

Snape regarded her for a few beats and when he finally spoke, his tone was even, as though he were steeling himself. "I think, in your case, acceptance is key. Acceptance that you are now a witch and are able to perform magic. You rebel at the very idea, and as such, it is hindering your true potential."

Lauren blinked, wondering if she had heard him right. She slowly leaned forward in her chair, her eyes glinting with pitted fury. "Let me get this straight," she snarled. "You're saying that once I have 'accepted' that I am stuck in this word, I'll embrace my magical side and will be able to harness my magic?" Lauren had been expecting some sort of sage wisdom, not this load of hippy crap.

Snape's black eyes glinted dangerously back at her. "Tell me, Miss Ward," he drawled darkly, "what do you remember about the circumstances that brought you to this world in the first place?"

Lauren growled in frustration. Why did he keep trying to derail her by changing the subject? "I've told you before – I got drunk, passed out on the couch, and woke up on the blasted floor of the Great Hall."

"Nothing else?"

Lauren stared at him, ignoring the tingling in the back of her head that suggested there was, indeed, more. Something that she couldn't remember. "You suspect something?"

"Perhaps."

Lauren shook her head and stood up, having enough of his silly mind games. He couldn't even give her a proper answer. "This is ludicrous!"

Snape abruptly rose to his full height. "I agree. Until you can fully accept what you are now, I am unable to help you any further until you do so."

"Then I guess you'll be waiting for quite some time," she snapped. "Because I'll never accept this. I don't belong here! This is not my world! And if you want me to accept that, then you're the crazy old bat everyone says you are!"

Snape flung his arm out, pointing towards the door. "Out!" he hissed through clenched teeth.

She didn't need to be told twice. Lauren stormed away, but not before she flipped Snape the birdie on her way out. The door slammed loudly behind her, narrowly missing hitting the back of her head.

Lauren seethed the whole way back to her room.

Acceptance! This is all about bloody acceptance! Screw that! I'll show him acceptance when I shove that bloody broomstick up his uptight...

So immersed was she in her internal diatribe that she did not notice a dark figure hidden in the shadows, watching her with unveiled intrigue. Once she had entered the Slytherin Common Room, the figure stepped out, his true identity revealed by the dimly lit lamps.

"There's something about her," Quirrell mused.

Yes, but we need to wait...she may prove to be the answer to my problem...

"Yes, my Lord," Quirrell replied before swiftly leaving the dungeons.