Briar Rose

Prologue

She sat in the office across from the headmaster's chair. Dumbledore was watering Fawkes' bowl, and she looked up during the relative silence to regard the Sorting Hat, silent and still as it always was except on the first evening of the school year.

"You say you studied witchcraft in America," the wizard remarked casually, "yet your accent sounds like you came from London."

"I spent the first ten years of my life in London," said Briar, tucking her short blonde hair behind her ear, "and I have come back a few times to visit family."

"I see." Dumbledore walked slowly to his seat, sitting down as if with effort, though Briar knew this was just for show. "And you wish to return to Britain, which is not unusual, but why Hogwarts?"

She drew on her training and folded her fingers, looking very relaxed even though she felt a little intimidated by his steady regard. "I often wished I could have gone to Hogwarts as a student. I have heard many tales of it in America, and I know that this institution is the best on the continent."

"And what do you plan on bringing to this institution?"

I will bring change to defend against the war. Except there was no war yet, because the year was 1969, but she wanted to establish her post before Severus arrived.

"My goal is to teach innovation," she replied, "because the advantages of Muggle Studies is not simply knowing pop culture references and the names for their various technology, but to understand the thinking process that led up to these inventions. These days, the Wizarding World has been favoring the old and known, and shunning the new and strange. Tradition has its values, but one must be able to adapt to change, or lead the charge. Hogwarts happens to be the best setting to train such individuals."

She could not tell if Dumbledore knew she was hiding something. He did not always know the exact secret, she had learned over the years, but he did know when there was one.

"I fear in today's atmosphere, it would be hard to convince most wizards that muggles have anything they can learn from," said the headmaster, showing a pessimism Briar had never expected—but then he was always a complicated man.

"The world is not changed all at once," she replied.

"No, it is not," he agreed.

He asked her a few more questions before ending the interview, telling her that he needed to discuss with the rest of the faculty, but that he thought she would be a very promising addition to their team.

She had forgotten what it was like.

The Great Hall loomed tall with its magical sky that flickered with stars. Candles floated below, hovering above the tables. The upper years already sat at the tables, chattering to each other. She saw Ivana, currently a second-year, gesture to a fellow Gryffindor named Daren, who would one day be her husband. Right now, however, they were just friends, and a little intimidated by each other.

"About twelve or so students are complete Muggle-born every year," McGonagall explained, looking so young with her dark hair and smoother skin, "so it is usually a great culture shock for them. About five every year are also international, usually hailing from Eastern Europe. There's apparently some kind of conflict going on in the muggle realm, I believe they call it the 'Cold War'."

"Yes," said Briar, remembering how she use to watch the television with her family. This was also the year that man landed on the moon. It was odd how such things that use to be close to her felt so far away now.

McGonagall leaned over to the other side for a moment before turning back.

"Well, I must go collect the first-years; they have finally arrived!" she grinned, looking surprisingly enthusiastic. Briar contemplated her as she left. McGonagall had always seemed so stern. Was she always so excited about students? Perhaps Briar was simply mature enough to read her better.

Left to her own thoughts for a moment, Briar stared at the table, her hands clasped together on top of it, her fingers and wrists bare. She had one year to figure out how to approach Severus and save him from his destiny, but she was not sure where to even begin. Severus was not a particularly trusting child; he only reached out to Lily Evans because he already liked her, although perhaps he was also more innocent then. The girl simply had to accept him.

She's just jealous. That she's ordinary, and you're special.

"Professor Rose, you look deep in thought."

Briar looked up. "Professor Manley."

Manley, not astonishingly, would only be the Defense professor for a year. She had met him once before, when they were both introduced as the new faculty at Hogwarts, and she could already see the reason why; he was a sleaze, and was eyeing Briar like she was his next meal. Briar wished she had a ring, though she did not hope it would dissuade him.

"First day is always a hard day, eh?" he smirked, perhaps thinking himself charming. He was not unattractive of face, and he was tall with broad shoulders, with a chiseled chin and an easy charisma that might fool lesser women. It was just his misfortune that Briar was no ordinary witch.

"You must be even more anxious," she said. "You must defeat great odds."

"Eh, you only live once," said the wizard, grinning broadly at her.

Briar swallowed her own smile. What a fool.

"You know what I always find interesting?" he pointed across to the Slytherin table. Briar could see Lucius Malfoy quite clearly; he was a sixth year this year, that scowl still in place, but with that teenage awkwardness that all sixteen-year-old males have. She almost smiled again, because for all his pretenses, he really was also just a child.

Though a child beyond saving.

"They always have these scowls on their faces," Manley remarked, "Just look at them. It is like they do not want to be here. I always think people wear their disposition on their faces, somewhere and somehow. A house full of bullies. Look at Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff. They look like they are eager to have new members. The Slytherins? I would bet that the first thing they plan on doing once we leave this hall is to haze the first years."

His remark gave Briar pause. She did not know what living with Slytherins was like. She had not even thought of hazing, even though she should know. She should have thought of it.

She should have thought of a lot of things.

"Thank you, Professor Manley."

"Hm?"

She smiled at the idiot. Help comes from odd places sometimes. "You are truly an insightful man."

The doors opened, and all chatter ceased. The Deputy Headmistress walked in with the Sorting Hat on her head. She was going to have to speak with the hat after the ceremony.

September 2nd in 1969 was a Tuesday, which meant Briar had classes from eight to twelve and then from one-thirty to two-thirty. As with all electives, she taught by year and all of the houses were mixed together. She started with the third-years.

"Welcome to Muggle Studies," she said to the classroom. There were five Slytherins, much to her surprise; she had not realized that the house had been so open to muggles before Voldemort started riling up supporters, even though they still wore expressions like they were facing an enemy on the battlefield.

"This course will be a little different from your other courses," she told her students. "You will have lectures, of course, to familiarize yourself with muggle customs, but in fact this may not be very useful to you. There are many muggle cultures, and if you should ever be stranded without a Knight Bus to help you, it is a simple matter of identifying yourself as a rather secluded individual, and people would not think you odd for being ignorant of modern ways. Therefore, this class will focus more on what will help you as witches and wizards once you leave Hogwarts."

She was using her Auror Voice, a fairly imperious, commanding, and authoritative voice, so the students were already regarding her with attention, if not wariness. It was fine if they were afraid of her; Briar was not here to be loved. She was here to bide her time until September of next year.

"There will be no exams in this course," she went on, "although I will give optional quizzes for you to take for your OWLs. These are ungraded and for your benefit alone. Your assessment for this class will be based on a project that you will work on in a team of four. You cannot select only from your house. You must mingle, and this project will be done without the use of magic."

The students looked at each other, though they seemed unconcerned. They probably figured that anything Muggle had to be easy, even without wands. Briar resisted a smirk.

"We will discuss your project later in the year, as you will spend this semester being equipped with what you need to know. Any questions before we begin?"

"I thought I would check on how your first day went," said Dumbledore, looking around at Briar's office. "No photos?"

"Perhaps later. Please, have a seat."

"Thank you." Dumbledore sat easily enough. "Already grading, Professor?"

"No," Briar looked down at her desk. It was quite bare so far, empty of decorations, and the drawers held nothing as well. There was only an inkstand for her quill, a few tomes she planned on using as reading and reference, and the scrolls for her syllabus. "Reviewing the syllabus. It is nothing major."

"The students behaved themselves today?"

"Quite. They all seemed interested; Muggle Studies is not something people take if they are not."

"Naturally. If you need any help, of course, you can always come to me, or Minerva, Filius, Pomona, or Horace."

"Of course." He had told her this before.

He chatted some more with her as she ordered tea from the house-elves. It was so strange to watch him engage in small-talk. He seemed guileless, as if genuinely interested in simply making conversation with her, but Briar had the nagging feeling that he was still searching her, even after hiring her.

He probably thought she was hiding something, but there was no way for him to understand until she allowed him to. She only hoped that her secrecy would not alienate him. Dumbledore, occasionally to his detriment, had a tendency to forget that others have the right to their secrets, just as he had the right to his. He was not a bad man; he was just so use to needing to be in the know that now he did it without a second thought. He did not seem to feel the need to use legilimency on her yet, but there might come a time when he would change his mind.

Still, Dumbledore had the uncanny ability to say the right things and ask the right questions. He looked out the window as Briar stared at his beard. It was a lot darker than she remembered.

"What do you think the world will be like, ten years from now?" he asked without turning to face her.

"Filthy mudblood…"

"…they were tortured…"

"…the Dark Mark…"

"Hard to say," said Briar. "Why?"

"When you get to my age," said the Headmaster, still looking contemplative, "you don't take anything for granted."

You have no idea. "I'm sure whatever comes, we will prevail."

He looked at her and smiled. "I shan't take more of your time, Professor. Thank you for our chat."

On Saturday, Briar went to Spinner's End.

The Snape residence was dark and gloomy, and the windows were black. She stood on the sidewalk with a Notice-Me-Not charm, because she did not want any of the Snapes to realize she was watching them. The house was silent, as it usually was. No hint of the tumult, of the screaming and weeping.

She wished she could take Severus from this place now, instead of waiting for five to six years. Eileen Snape was due to die shortly before he turned fifteen. It was probably the year he started alienating himself from Lily Evans. Eileen was a bad mother, a stupid woman for all her talents as a witch. Though Briar could understand how the mentality of a victim of abuse could trap someone, she could never forgive what this woman's cowardice and foolishness did to her child. However, she also knew how much Severus had depended on her, for all her own form of abuse and neglect, her failures to protect her child even if she could not protect herself.

Family was still family, and Severus had loved her, had wished for her attention, some gesture or word from her that he was loved in return.

Perhaps Eileen did love Severus, as battered as she was, but Briar did not really care.

She left her post in front of the house after about an hour or so, with no movement at all from the residence and no sign of either Severus or Lily. The witch headed down to the river, brown and sluggish in its flow. The abandoned mill creaked with the wind, somewhat like the Shrieking Shack, except less spooky and more pitiful.

The red-haired Lily emerged, Severus just behind her. She was vibrant, pale as snow with hair bright like fire. She wore a bright pink dress with white flowers and a comely ribbon in her hair. In contrast, Severus was like a phantom, skin sallow without any healthy red, hair limp and black, with trousers much too large for him, folded at the ankles, and a shirt that looked even bigger than his pants.

They popped out from behind the mill and headed upstream to where Briar stood, though neither noticed her. She watched as the two children headed up to the main street, where Lily took leave of her friend to head to her happier home.

Lily meant well, but she was truly an ignorant, naïve child.

Briar waited with Severus, who looked after her for a long while. Lily never turned back to see her friend watch her. Once Lily was out of sight, the boy turned and went to his own bleak house. The door opened and closed, after which silence fell.

This will be a long year.

Briar regarded the house again, before apparating away.