Hogwarts was a large, formidable building. Breathtaking and so unlike Ilvermorny.

Elaine had lived in the united States, in the sunny desert of southern California for all of her life. She was a proficient witch, as well as a no-maj elementary school teacher. She had warm grey eyes, pale skin and thick velvety black hair. She had to admit that she felt a little nervous about teaching young witches and wizards. At least no-maj children didn't throw tantrums that melted things. Well, not usually, anyway.

She had already changed into her teaching robes on the train, and they swept around her impressively as she hesitated in front of the gate. The wrought iron was cold under her hand. It shuttered for just a moment before it opened up wide. Elaine's eyes widened for a second before she shook her head.

What was she doing here, anyway? She hadn't used magic since school. Burying herself in the uncomplicated world of muggles, as they were called here. Thankfully, she had always been gifted with a good sense of direction. She allowed it to lead her into the castle and found the Great Hall with little trouble, making note of the paintings that whispered curiously amongst themselves and moved around her.

She hadn't been prepared for the number of people in the Great Hall. Hundreds of children and teens formed one loud wave of sound. Their joyous laughter and teasing brought a smile to her lips. It felt familiar. Albus Dumbledor sat at a long table set apart from the rest with whom she assumed to be the rest of the staff. An older woman with a sharp but kind face nodded to her in acknowledgement.

"Ah, Ms. Chapel." Dumbledor spoke loudly, the sound seeming to have been amplified around them. He rose to his feet, inviting the curious stares of the students. The din settled down accordingly.

"My apologies for my tardiness, Head Master." She blushed furiously, uncomfortable with all of the attention on her.

"No matter, Miss Chapel, you're just in time. We are ready to begin! Please, come and claim your seat." He gestured to the empty seat at the high table, between an unsmiling man cloaked in black from head to foot and the elderly woman.

She hurried to her seat and dropped down between the two obediently. The woman clasped a hand over hers and smiled kindly at her.

"I am Minerva McGonagall. Please, come to me if you need anything. I'm sure you'll do brilliantly. There's no need to be nervous." Her eyes twinkled as she withdrew her hand and Elaine felt much better.

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall-"

"Minerva, if you please." She said gently. Elaine smiled.

"Thank you, Minerva."

The sorting ceremony was uneventful, but interesting to her all the same. Afterwards Dumbledor announced the changes in staffing.

"Elaine Chapel is our new defense against the dark arts teacher. She is from America, and I would ask that those of you who are so inclined to behave unfavorably," he cast a glance to the far table, where the Slytherin's sat before addressing the whole of the room again, "resist the urge to give our Miss Chapel grief."

There were quiet snickers from the Gryffindor table at that. She wasn't quite certain yet, but it appeared that there was a sort of rivalry between the two houses. She smiled. This was going to be fun after all.

After the feast Dumbledor called her over as well as the dark sulking professor who had sat next to her.

"Severus, if you could be so kind as to escort Miss Chapel to her rooms? They are in the dungeon's next to yours..." At her surprised look, Dumbledor smiled, "Not to worry. They should be more than comfortable, and if they're not to your liking, we can style them anyway you so chose."

She nodded. Severus scowled, evidently bothered with the idea of sharing his cold dungeon chambers with her. He didn't protest however, merely nodded and walked off. Elaine stood for a moment unsure of what to say. Dumbledor door gestured after Severus and she hurried after him.

"Thank you, Severus." She said quietly, ill at ease in his melancholy presence. He glanced at her, raking his dark eyes over her as if she were an especially repugnant creature.

"You're welcome, but refrain from calling me Severus. I'd much rather be referred to as Professor Snape. We are not on a first name basis as of yet, regardless of your position here at Hogwarts."

"Oh..." was all Elaine could say. Apparently, Snape was not a very friendly man.

"What do you teach here?" She asked gently, the soft sound of her voice echoed in the cool dungeon around them. She wanted to put him at ease, possibly make him see that she wasn't so bad.

"Potions." He growled. His eyebrows furrowed in agitation and his teeth clenched.

"That's wonderful. I excelled at potions when I was in school, if you need any help-"

He whirled on her so fast that she ran into him, colliding with his chest. She hit the hard stone floor with a heavy thump, a gasp knocked out of her by the impact. Snape hurriedly helped her back onto her feet, his cold hand gripping her forearm to steady her before he backed away. The fire that had been there had died down, and he merely sighed.

"My apologies, Professor Chapel. If you hadn't been following so closely, that would not have happened." He glared at her for a moment before walking on, leaving her stunned. How could someone be so impossible?

He stopped in front of a simple wood door, directly across from an identical one.

"Here you are, Professor. Rest well." Snape pressed a frigid key into her palm. Elaine turned to thank him, but he had already retreated into what must have been his room. Her face fell in dismay, her grey eyes filling with tears. It wasn't that she was sad that Snape didn't seem to like her. It was just all of it. All of the horror and torture and change that had accompanied the last few weeks. She opened the door and froze.

It was lovely. There were two arm chairs, a chase lounge, and a love seat all matching and in a deep red wine color. A large fireplace was already going, warming the stone walls pleasantly. There was a bookshelf where a few chosen tomes had already been placed by whoever had decorated it. She investigated each room, pleased to see her own bathroom and showers, a small kitchenette, and finally the bedroom. She pulled her miniscule trunks out of her pocket, whispering the charm to return then to their previous size after setting them aside on the floor.

She thought about unpacking, but she sank into the bed instead, not meaning to, but fell into a fevered and fitful sleep.