This chapter takes place between Green Eyed Monster's Chapter 12: The Unmarked Gift and Chapter 14: Hear Say.

December 25th, 1994

Severus Snape could think of many times when he was upset, and others were not, but there was something about today that felt extra laborious. While other professors like Flitwick, Sprout, and Burbage were all merrily hanging garland around the Great Hall, Snape looked on the cold, frosted wasteland of a Great Hall with a sneer. He had not been keen on the idea of transitioning the mess hall into a luxurious ballroom for the promises of a Ball and his disdain had only grown when he was offered up to complete the work…under Minerva's watchful eye, no less.

"Severus, could you charm these in place?" McGonagall, he was pleased to see, was just as frustrated as he was. She wore the effort differently than he did, of course. The woman looked high strung and about to boil over with her nervous energy – he enjoyed watching her squirm, though; partly because at least he was not alone in his misery, partly because he was sure that she was the one who had first offered his services without his volunteering them.

He had more important things to be worrying about than the atmosphere of the Christmas decorations, anyway. Karkaroff had been poised and waiting for days so that he could corner him about the new vibrancy of their Dark Marks. While he had been able to excuse himself and avoid the confrontation, it would only be time before he would need to speak to him about it. Considering that Karkaroff had been a traitor to the Dark Lord and his followers, Snape was fairly confident the man was fearful of its meaning…but he did not want to run the risk that the man was excited for whatever the Mark's return may have meant.

Not that Snape was confused by the meaning behind the change. He was well aware that the Dark Lord was rising in power, just as Dumbledore had warned him would happen so many years before…he just didn't know what could be done to keep the situation quiet and discreet. Because as soon as the Dark Lord returned to power, there would be very little discretion regarding his rise back to power – Snape was sure of it.

Severus was sure to complete all these menial tasks assigned by McGonagall with a scowl on his face; it was his own silent protest to the ridiculous request they had made for him to help decorate. Who, after all, would assume he was best suited for the job? If they expected anything less than his misery, they had been fooling themselves. Dances were something uncommon in the wizarding world and despite the fact that the Headmaster had acquired the Weird Sisters for the entertainment, it all remained a ridiculous spectacle to him.

He knew he was not the only one to feel this way. While students had bustled about for weeks trying to procure the perfect date to this party, a few of the professors had successfully steered clear of the drama that had leaked into the halls. He had been annoyed to find that students would use any time – including class time – to speak and deal with the problems of the ball…particularly the process of finding a date. While he acknowledged he never would have been able to fulfil the task of asking the woman he fancied when he was that age, he also knew he wouldn't have gossiped about it the way everyone else currently felt was necessary.

Perhaps that was why he was so pleased to see Miss Potter fighting against the mould and refusing to go. When Minerva had heard, she had been devastated – the Champions were supposed to dance and be the epicentre of the ball and to think she would not attend had panicked the Transfiguration professor. Snape, on the other hand, had been impressed that she was mature enough to know how ridiculous the notion of her having to find a date and attend the dance was – until, of course, she had gone to blow up his potion's stores.

At first, he had been furious when Mr. Malfoy had come to him to reveal her plan. The young boy had come into his office in a panic and they had barely reached her in time before she had tried to blow up all of his ingredients. It had taken Severus a long while to calm down and understand how on earth a potion's aficionado could consider such an extreme option – as far as he was aware, potions was her favourite subject and he was her favourite professor…it was a betrayal of the highest form.

Once he had calmed down, Severus realized that her love for potions was precisely why she had done it. Severus was proud to be the professor who had rebelled against this ball the most, so Potter must have figured there was no way an action so devious as blowing up his ingredients would go without his wrath. Severus assumed she had hoped that the punishment would be severe enough that she could avoid the song and dance that was the Yule Ball.

He had been pleased with his punishment of choice at the beginning…until he started to debate why exactly Draco Malfoy had been so upset by her plan.

And then the worry began to seep in.

He had noticed the glances Mr. Malfoy had begun to give her when he believed no one to be watching him. There was something horribly reminiscent about it and with each look, it seemed to make Severus feel more and more ill. And then after Potter's near-death experience with the Norwegian Ridgeback, the looks had only grown more urgent – it was almost as if Malfoy was hoping to be caught in the act. Snape himself was hoping that Potter wouldn't even notice after all everyone had looked at her differently since the first task…it was no small feat, coercing a dragon.

This had, of course, led to him understanding precisely why she was so against attending that night's festivities. If she had gone on to notice the looks from the school's population, he imagined she wouldn't want to parade around and bring more attention to herself. Since bringing attention to yourself was exactly what this night was supposed to be about, Severus had found himself wanting to help how she was perceived…or at least, that's how he defended buying her the dress robes from Madam Malkin's.

When Snape had been young, he had always hoped for a second chance at a first impression – with some more than with others. But Snape had never been outspoken, he had never been confident. He'd fallen behind early-on when it came to social situations and the fallout from that haunted him for the rest of his life. As much as he didn't agree with how the chance had been given to her, Audrey Potter now had the opportunity to change what others thought of her.

He had simply given her a tool to use, that was all.

Or so he continued to convince himself.

After all, professors were not supposed to give gifts to students, he knew this. He had tried to convince himself of this when the idea had first appeared in his mind – but then all of the exceptions made for her brother had come to mind. For Harry Potter, that rule had been broken numerous times – numerous times for each year.

In his first year, instead of being punished the older twin had always seemed praised for fighting against the rules. The first sign of this was his appointment to the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And because of his new position he had been gifted the most expensive racing broom on the market – the Nimbus 2000 – by his Head of House. And if that weren't enough, the Headmaster himself had given him an Invisibility Cloak, the likes Severus had never before seen.

Their second year had not been much better. Gilderoy Lockhart had taken a shining to the boy's fame, giving him advice on how to bolster it in lieu of material gift-giving. He had been given far less detention than he deserved after crashing a flying car into the Whomping Willow. To make things worse, that detention was simply answering Lockhart's fan mail.

Then only last year, instead of punishment Snape was sure the boy deserved, Remus Lupin had taken to helping the boy. While this had been expected, he had not been prepared to know of the private lessons the boy was getting – lessons that his sister had not been part of.

So, in all logic, Audrey Potter was past due to have one of her professors to give her preferential treatment. And he would stick by that logic were she ever to know that it had been he to gift the robes to her.

"Severus," Professor Sprout gathered his attention. "Could you please…"

Severus sighed, knowing that there was no way out of dealing with this damned ball…but at least with Potter being forced to attend he wouldn't be suffering alone.

As much as it wasn't in Severus' particular taste, he was aware that he had helped the Great Hall look like a winter wonderland had blown in overnight. The crisp winter scene made the hall look cooler than it was, causing people to gasp and shiver despite themselves. That shiver mixed with the snow that was dancing from the ceiling – and disappeared before it touched the students – was convincing people to pull their bright, dashing robes around them to fight off the nonexistent chill. Many of the giddy, smiling children were latched onto the arm of another and walking around with an excitement that wasn't often seen in the dining hall.

It appeared like every student had taken advantage of the opportunity of the ball. While only forth years and above had been invited to attend – with the exception of dates – he was sure that the entirety of all three schools were crowded around the outskirts of the dance floor, waiting for the Champions to enter.

"You have done some fine work, Severus," Dumbledore smiled to him as they stood at the front of the hall. Snape tried not to display his discontent over the idea that he had done any of this at all – and, even if he admitted that he had helped, he did not want anyone to think that he had been the cause of the design.

"Decoration is not my forte," the potions professor tried to leave the distaste from his tone. "Until what time must I stay here?"

"Generally I would say you may leave after the main festivities," Dumbledore turned to him with that unpleasant, all-knowing twinkle in his eye. "But as I recall, you are forcing Miss Potter and other select students to assist in the clean up afterward. You will need to stay to chaperone."

He almost groaned at the thought. When he had planned the detention for the most rebellious of the Potters, he had not really considered his decision would force him to stay for the entirety of the ball. And even if the thought had crossed his mind, he would never have imagined he would have spent the whole day before preparing for it. He had been in this frilled, joyous area for far too long – all he wanted was the seclusion of the dungeons so that he would not have to interact with all these horribly happy people.

McGonagall shuffled into the hall, bringing with her the "Tri"wizard Champions.

It appeared that Viktor Krum had dated one of Potter's little friends – the know-it-all. It was an interesting pairing, considering he knew full well that Krum was a few ingredients short of a full potion.

Behind him flounced Fleur Delacour with a Ravenclaw student, Roger Davies, the captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. He was a decent enough potion's brewer. He was uninspiring but worthy enough of a date for someone of Veela heritage.

Cedric Diggory had come along with Cho Chang – he was almost surprised by this, considering the way he had caught the Potter girl staring at him a number of times…but the older students did look quite happy together.

The Potter boy came behind them, dressed in nice green dress robes with one of the Patil twins on his arm. He wondered briefly how he had gotten his hands onto dress robes when his sister had not had the time – it seemed he had given into his fate long before she ever would. Or the boy hadn't thought to fight it…that was most likely.

Audrey Potter was always ready for a fight; no matter who or what the opponent was.

The girl in question was the last to enter the Great Hall. Seeing her almost shocked him to his core – being dressed up like this, not just in baggy muggle clothes…she looked devastatingly like her mother. He was pleased with the robes he had chosen for her – the shiny, tarnished silver robes were a nice colour on her and it helped her look oddly put together. Her mess of hair had already been tamed, her face covered in unrecognizable makeup…were it not for sharing her mother's identical features, Audrey Potter might have looked unrecognizable as herself and exactly like her mother.

Her eyes found him through the crowd. The expression of absolute terror within them was just as dreadfully familiar as she seemed to beg for a helping hand – if he had been in better spirits, he may have chosen to laugh at the panic she was displaying. It took him a moment to notice why she may have been so stressed…Audrey Potter had not gotten a date.

It seemed that Severus was not the only one who had noticed that Potter had come without a man on her arm, because students had begun to whisper amongst themselves. His eyes narrowed in on a figure moving toward her inexpensive black robes – Draco Malfoy was on the move, likely to save her from her terror. It was clear Malfoy had been waiting for a moment to be her knight in shining armour. It was no surprise that tonight would be the most opportune moment to make his move when she looked as put together as she did, but Malfoy was not the first suitor to reach her.

Adam Montague had stepped forward, touching her shoulder and offering his hand for a dance. To the side, frozen as he watched the interaction, Malfoy had looked affronted when he saw the two speak. Soon, like the child he was, Malfoy stomped back to his date who stood at the side of the room in horrid, frilled robes.

Potter and Montague stood speaking for the moments before the music began. It looked like there was some contention, but Montague took hold of Potter and they were forced to keep moving so that they would not bump into any of the other champions. Snape would never have admitted it, but it was almost fun to watch her struggle. She was clumsy, which he actually had not expected…he knew that her mother had once been quite graceful and her father had been quite agile, so besides discomfort he wasn't sure where that tendency would have come from.

Besides her brother, who wasn't fairing much better.

Both of the Potters looked miserable and like always, that brightened Severus' mood. They were both dreadful at the dance and looked like they wanted to peel themselves from their dates so they could run away – for twins who constantly fought, they were very alike. By the time the dance came to an end, the boy all but ran away from his date and the girl glared at her own dance partner as if he had said something foul.

In fact, Snape couldn't help but glare as Montague moved forward to ask for a kiss of thanks. There had always been something about that boy he disliked – and much like the other students, his gaze had been glued to the girl ever since the incident with the dragon. His intrigue, luckily, did not seem to be returned because Audrey had recoiled from his advances, looking around for help. The green-eyed girl caught his glare and even from across the room, he could almost hear what she was asking him…how much trouble would she be in if she attacked?

He shook his head minutely, nearly grinning when he saw her deflate from the idea. Instead, she turned back to respond to whatever he had said to her before she turned and walked away with her head held high.

There was a momentary swell of pride as he watched her walk away from the leering Quidditch captain…but his stomach fell when he saw the venom behind Montague's glare. Whatever she had said had clearly humiliated the boy and he was looking around carefully to judge what social damage the rejection had caused. It seemed few people had noticed now that everyone else was allowed to dance, but Snape would not forget the fury behind those eyes. Something told him that Adam Montague would cause some kind of issue…Snape knew well that anger like that rarely faded.

"Severus, you look grim," Snape looked over his shoulder, surprised to see that Mad-Eye Moody had graced him with his presence. The ex-auror had never been fond of Snape, nor was he fond of anyone who had once been in league with the Dark Lord, so he was surprised by just how often the man had tried to strike up a conversation within the last few months. "What's troubling you?"

Mad-Eye's magical eye swivelled in its socket, moving down to follow the movement of Snape's arm. He was no fool, he knew that the auror was aware of the Dark Mark burned into his arm. With that magical eye of his, he could likely see the colour shifting just as well as Snape could. It seemed the wretched old man wanted answers.

He refused to provide them.

"I am not fond of parties," he said simply. "There are other places I would rather be."

"There are other places I would like to see you," the gruff man mumbled. "Have you ever seen the North Sea in the winter, Severus? It's quite the sight."

The implication was not lost on Snape. In the middle of the Northern Sea, on a small island hidden by enchantments, was Azkaban Prison. The ex-auror had made it very clear that he believed it's where Snape should have been.

Snape worked hard to keep the sneer from his face. "I cannot say I have."

"One day you should," Moody said heavily. "I'm surprised you haven't already visited."

Snape pursed his lips, looking away from the grumpy old fool so that he could find the Headmaster. When Dumbledore had returned back from his dance with the Transfiguration professor, he turned to watch over the students with a contented expression. Snape moved to him and away from the man whose glass eye regarded his every step.

"Excuse me, Headmaster. I will be headed outside for the time being," he informed, not really leaving room for question. But as he expected, Dumbledore didn't seem to mind. In fact, it appeared the man had instinctively understood just how uncomfortable the potion's master truly was.

"Take all the time you need, Severus," he informed him. "But please, keep a wary eye."

Of course, he would always be on the look out for any strange behaviour – particularly since all of the Champions were together. But with Dumbledore watching the group of them, he felt confident enough to escape for a good breath of fresh air before he dove headfirst into the festivities of the Yule Ball once more.

The air was cold out in the courtyard, but the chill that seeped down into Severus' bones was a welcomed distraction. Severus had never particularly liked crowds – the mark of his tortured adolescence, he was sure – and the abandoned courtyard was a wonderful breath of cool, fresh air. He was surprised how few seemed to have ventured out there, despite all the work he had put into creating a romantic destination of fairy lights within the rosebushes. He'd hated every moment of it, but he wouldn't deny that the decoration did make for a nice change from the long winter. But it didn't matter, most students appeared to prefer the warmth and magnificence of the Great Hall instead, leaving him to venture through the enchanted shrubbery in peace.

Or so he thought.

"Severus!"

The sigh he released was noticeable thanks to the billow of condensation that escaped him. He turned in the snow, coming face to face with a very haggard Igor Karkaroff. The shrewd wizard had clearly followed him out – waiting to corner him as he had been for months. It had been easy for Severus to notice that while the Mark began to get darker, the runaway Death Eater had become more and more anxious. And Karkaroff should have been; if the Dark Lord really was planning to return, denouncers like Karkaroff would surely be his first hunt.

"Now is not the time, Igor," Severus' voice was tight. "I have things to attend to."

As if to make his point, Snape pointed his wand to the rosebush to his side and made it erupt in leaves, roses, and bramble. A loud gasp escaped someone who was hiding, making Severus narrow his eyes. "If anyone is doing anything inappropriate, now would be the time to leave."

No one moved. Severus moved forward, ready to hunt down whichever students had just ignored him – after all, he couldn't hunt down Karkaroff who was ignoring him while stuck to his side.

"Nothing more important than this," the man assured him quietly, walking closer so that they would not be overheard. "You know what I'm referring to. It's been burning – have you felt it?"

No, the Dark Mark burning he had not particularly felt and he couldn't help but turn towards Karkaroff a bit more to see if he was bluffing – but his expression told him that he was not.

"My Mark has not been burning," Snape said simply, his voice quiet and clipped. "And I highly doubt that yours has been either."

"It has! He has returned, Severus, don't tell me you haven't sensed it," Snape moved to walk away, but Karkaroff continued to follow behind him like a lost puppy. He gripped hard on his shoulder to keep him in place, but no amount of force would get Snape to stay tethered to this conversation. "How is it possible? Potter destroyed him that night, there should not be any connection to the Mark anymore—"

"Exactly my meaning," Snape kept his voice quiet and tight so that the Bulgarian wizard would know that he was not in the mood to continue the conversation. "The Dark Lord is gone, there is no connection between the Marks anymore – which is why you cannot feel it burn. I truly don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor."

"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" Karkaroff's voice had raised slightly to show how severely he believed the connection that Severus knew was truly there. Snape placed his wand toward what he knew to be another abandoned rosebush and shredded it again – it was a good distraction from the fact Karkaroff had idiotically moved the sleeve of his robes to examine the Dark Mark again. Severus didn't want to see it himself, nonetheless, have others realize what they were saying. "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it—"

"Then flee," Snape hissed, shoving his arm down so that Igor's robe fell to hide his Mark once again. "Flee – I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."

Igor scoffed as if he thought it was laughable to stay. The two men rounded the corner as the Bulgarian readied himself to speak again – but Snape stopped him. There was a hushed sound from the side and Snape took out his wand, blasting apart the rosebush to his right – squeals followed the eruption as dark shapes rushed to cover the areas that their clothes were not.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett!" Snape snarled to the girl. He was always glad to have an outlet for his frustration, whether it was punishing fornicating students or the very rosebushes he had enchanted. Fawcett was a strange semblance of a Ravenclaw anyway; she was always getting in trouble for the ridiculous pranks she would pull and risks she would take – and there was something about Severus that enjoyed taking out his frustrations on poorly sorted students like her. "And ten points from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!"

As he watched them dart away, he noticed two students off to his other side. They were easy to spot – Potter's impressive bottle-green dress robes were flashy, but not as gaudy and noticeable as Weasley's horrid mess of an outfit.

"And what are you two doing?" He asked, his face twisting.

"We're walking," Weasley responded with that regular tone of confidence that Snape hated so much. He did not have the ability to back up any of that confidence – he was not a good wandsman, a terrible potion brewer, and worse, he was the closest confidant to the most arrogant of his students. "Not against the law, is it?"

"Keep walking, then!" Snape demanded, continuing on down the path so that he could pass them. Potter's eyes followed his movements, they were narrowed in a way that made him worry – if Potter had that damned cloak of his, he easily could have known what Snape and Karkaroff had been saying before they had come upon them. A part of him wanted to go back and check the snow for footprints to see just how closely the two Gryffindors had come to walking in on their conversation, but he avoided it. With Karkaroff trailing him as he was, he would only be putting himself in more danger by revealing too much information.

"We need to take action – leave, hide, tell someone," Karkaroff insisted. "This cannot simply be happening to us!"

"And who told you it was happening to me?" Snape asked clearly. "It was certainly not I. Perhaps something is happening to you alone, for I have never claimed that there has been any reaction to my Mark. It is old and cursed, Karkaroff, it has never healed – nor will it ever heal – properly. Perhaps you've done something recently to irritate it…"

"To irritate it? How?"

"Practicing the Dark Arts, for one. Perhaps enchanting magical goblets," Snape suggested with an expectant glare. He saw Karkaroff's expression change as he realized what was being said, his own eyes going dark as he considered what he was being accused of doing.

"I did not put their name in the goblet, Severus. Why would I? I want Viktor to win!" He sounded quite assured, but assuredness wasn't enough to convince Snape. Karkaroff had once been one of the better castors of Unforgivable Curses – it was not out of the realm of possibility that he had performed that act recently to enact some sort of revenge.

There was another rustle in the dark and Snape was happy to aim towards another one of his rosebushes. Before he could burst the bush into rubble, he realized he did not have to – no one was hiding. In fact, someone seemed to already be running away…only this time it was not from him. Instead, Pansy Parkinson was running along the pathway, stomping away from Draco Malfoy, who followed behind languidly her.

"—can't believe I asked you to come with me and expected you to be able to tear your eyes away from her! I won't have it, Draco! If you're just going to sit there all night, waiting for that little dead girl to notice you—"

"Come on, Parkinson. Potter has absolutely nothing to do with why I didn't want to dance with you," he responded, his voice sounded exasperated, perhaps the argument had been underway for some time. "Your robes are the reason I didn't want to dance with you."

Karkaroff, now knowing who was up the path, skittered from whence he'd come. Apparently, he still held enough fear that he didn't want to be too close to a Malfoy – even a young one who had not been inducted into the Dark Lord's inner circle. Snape would have to thank Malfoy's aimless act by reprieving him of detention next time he deserved one.

"I told you, someone shredded my unicorn-hair robes! It was that cat of hers, I know it!"

"Kneazle," he corrected in the same way that Potter always had. "I told you, she would have bragged about it…would, Merlin, would you please stop running? This is ridiculous. I do not care about you being my date badly enough to keep out in this weather—"

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape greeted as the two of them came into full sight along the pathway. Parkinson's eyes were filled with angry tears, her face was splotched with red and her fists were clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. "Miss Parkinson."

"We're just passing through," Malfoy said stiffly, pressing on Parkinson's back to make her continue walking. They passed, Draco's eyes not leaving the Potions master for as long as his neck would allow. When he turned and continued down the path with Parkinson, they continued their conversation in quiet, hissing back and forth to one another.

So, Malfoy really was enamoured with Potter. It was not a shock to him but he was surprised that others were already beginning to catch on. For all intents and purposes, Snape had always hoped that Malfoy and Potter would hate each other – he was certain that Potter still believed that was the role the two played in each others' lives. They were always arguing and bickering, they were always a constant thickness in the air – a density that he had always attributed to annoyance.

Now he was beginning to worry that it was something more complicated.

There was something horrible about the idea of Malfoy and Potter being together in any way that was…friendly. Severus couldn't really pinpoint why the idea upset him as much as it did, but there was something about the thought of the boy he knew growing up – the spoiled little boy who was well on his way to following in his fathers' footsteps – being with the complicated spawn of Lily and James Potter.

As much as his overprotectiveness towards the girl was something he was learning to accept about himself, he still didn't quite understand it. Sure, she was in his house and she happened to be his best student…but Severus needed to remember that Audrey Potter was not her mother. In fact, as much as she may look like Lily, Potter had turned out quite differently. And, as silly a notion as it may seem, Snape couldn't help but wonder how much he had catered to that; how much he had encouraged her from branching out, away from her father's doppelganger and towards people who thought instead as Severus did.

He had been happy to see Potter found a place with the Slytherins. That she fit in. Was he confusing his wish that Lily would have been sorted there with the fact that Audrey had been? Perhaps. Perhaps their similarities had blinded him and that's why he'd given the girl a chance at all. Perhaps his old, dusty feelings for Lily were instead spilling over to the daughter he could protect, rather than the woman he could not.

Then again, Severus knew there was a part of him that might have actually enjoyed the girl's company. During all his years chasing after Lily Evans, he had assumed the problem was that she was too entrenched in her values – she was too compassionate. Or maybe just too good. Then, here comes her daughter who held many of the same values but had an understanding of…well, the bad in the world. Not just the bad in the world, but the fact that the world was not bad or good…but rather shades of gray in between. Oddly, it seemed the place both he and the girl loved to tread.

Merlin's beard, he hated when he started getting introspective about the Potter family. The odd protectiveness he felt was not something he had before felt and though he would never say it aloud he wondered if this would be how it felt…to be a parent.

But he wasn't a parent. Certainly not. These were Potters.

Snape raised his wand and immediately took out his frustration on the bush to his side. It burst into shreds, flying into the air and raining down in a shower of splinters.

A small shape streaked towards him through the darkness and were it not for the fairy lights, he may have attacked the invader – but instead, he knew immediately what he was seeing. It was Potter's kneazle – her most beloved possession and Snape wagered, her closest confidant. There was no interaction he had ever seen between her and another person that would rival the happiness that damned pet brought her. She was so proud of it that she brought it everywhere, even in the potions room. And while Snape rarely allowed pets in his dungeon, he found that it was hard to rip the cat away from her – she was just so much easier to deal with when it was around.

"Who's there? What are you doing?" The girl called out.

He sighed, rounding the corner slowly so as not to startle her. He should have known that eventually, they would cross paths in this place – like him, the Potter girl did not appreciate crowds and the outdoors seemed the only air that wasn't warmed by hundreds of dancing bodies.

When she caught his gaze she sighed, rolling her eyes and tucking her wand into the pocket of the robes he had purchased for her. He was actually quite pleased to see that she was not taking any chances with her safety, considering someone was setting the Potter twins up to die in this tournament – who knew if they would take an easier route now that they knew she was no easy target.

"What are you doing? My wand could have misfired at you," she mumbled, sounding nearly as bitter and exhausted as he felt. When he did not bother making a snide comment toward her, it actually seemed to worry her. "Professor?"

"It's a cold night, Potter," and she was not in a warm set of robes. He hadn't thought that it would be something she would need – but now he regretted not purchasing the extra protection. "Why are you outside?"

But she wasn't looking at him anymore. Instead, she was surveying the damage in his wake and frowned animatedly. "Professor…are you…blowing up the rose bushes?"

"This is nothing that should leave this conversation, Miss Potter," he replied simply. Hopefully, if she kept quiet about his whereabouts, her brother would not be triggered to tell her about Snape's own whereabouts earlier on as he had been dealing with Karkaroff.

"So you're as frustrated as I am, then?" She asked, letting out a heavy sigh.

"I am beyond frustrated," he corrected her. He felt uncomfortable talking to her while she was in the robes he had bought her. Part of him wanted her to go inside so that she could stay warm, enjoy the ball, and be a normal teenager for once…not that she was or ever would be a normal teenager, but perhaps she could pretend to be just for this night. The other part of him was glad to hear that she was having a horrible time…particularly that she was having a horrible time without allowing a boy like Montague or Malfoy manipulating her feelings. "Why aren't you inside enjoying the ball?"

"With what date?" She scoffed, but she picked at the hem of her dress robe as she said it. He wondered briefly if she was bitter not only because she didn't have one, but that she may have wanted one. "I'm not really the talk of the school at the moment, you know. More people are scared of me rather than like me now and I'm not one to sit around when everyone is rubbing their good time in my face."

She certainly was not. Severus was sure this all had to go back to her and the first task – as he knew, everyone treated her differently afterward – but he was surprised to hear they weren't flocking after her. Most students would want to know how it's accomplished, most would want to hear the story…or so he thought. His silence seemed to unnerve her, so he tried his best to be comforting.

"Your stunt with the dragon was intimidating. Do you know yet how you managed it?"

"I…" she shrugged to herself as if admitting that she did not, even though she continued to speak. "I told it that the egg didn't belong with her eggs. That it could hurt them. I said give it to me – then she did. I didn't really do anything special."

He raised his eyebrows, unable to keep the disbelief from his regularly bored tone. "You don't think that is special? You coerced a dragon."

"I know it's a big deal," she amended. "But I didn't actually do anything. It just sort of happened."

That was a foolish notion for her and he wondered how she had landed on it. Dragons did not just accidentally listen to people's commands or stop during their attack for no reason – it couldn't have 'just happened'. Audrey Potter had made it happen. There were many ways it could have happened, many theories that had run through his mind at the time and all the days after…but he still could not be certain what it all meant. The only thing he knew now was that whoever had entered her in the tournament hoping to kill her had a good plan…but they had horribly underestimated her.

Another swell of pride filled his chest as he remembered how diligently she had worked to survive that task. She had created her own potion, she had stood her ground against a dragon, she had gotten the golden egg in the fastest time…and then in the crevices of that pride leaked in the fear. Because whoever had set her up had watched all of that power too.

It was like she had placed a giant beacon around herself with that move. And everyone, including Snape, could see it. And that was exactly why all those students stared. And that was why she was insecure…because unlike her brother, Audrey Potter had never been in the limelight. It appeared she did not like it as much as she had always claimed she would.

"I think you've just convinced whoever put your name in that goblet that you are a force to be reckoned with."

She sighed, deflating slightly at his words. "Which is precisely what we didn't want."

"Precisely," he agreed. She took a step toward him, analyzing his expression – this was something that her mother had never done quite so accurately. Audrey Potter was very talented with intuitively understanding a situation, a room, a person…her mother had been far too trusting for that kind of perceptiveness.

"Professor, are you alright?" She asked slowly.

He looked at her for a moment, that look of concern the thing most like her mother. He could not allow himself to get bogged down in thoughts of Lily Potter tonight – even if it was a lost cause. His thoughts were always with Lily. But tonight he was supposed to be watching for anything strange, watching to see if anyone was acting suspiciously while all the Champions were in the same room.

Well, apparently all but one.

"I am fine. You should be inside enjoying the ball before you freeze. The ball is dedicated to the champions," he informed her. She took a deep breath, the look of care turning into an expression of wounded pride.

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to be nice for once."

He had heard those words so many times from her mother that hearing it again, so many years later, stole the breath from his lungs. Lily had said it all the time to him – particularly when he was commenting on her horrid sister, Petunia. And though her voice sounded different, lower than her mothers…the intonation was exactly the same.

"Pardon me?" He found himself being able to wheeze out with what little breath was still held tightly in his throat. She shrugged, picking up the cat that was weaving around her ankles before she began walking away from him.

"I know, I know, I'll see you at the beginning of my detention tonight after I'm here for this whole night in these painful shoes and these glamorous, not-at-all my – wait," she turned on her heel to give him one of those calculating looks that was distinctly her own. "You did it, didn't you?"

"Did what, exactly?"

"The robes," she looked down at the robes instead of at him. "Thank you. You didn't have to."

"Whoever did give you those robes," he began, being careful not to admit the truth aloud. "They knew you didn't have to be in this tournament."

"I had to make you proud somehow," she joked, sighing dramatically for effect. He hated the idea that she felt the need to make him proud – he was not her father, after all. He was not a Potter. He had enough of a difficult time considering that James and Lily had created a family, he didn't need to imagine himself as part of it. There was no role for him there. He knew that. It was just that sometimes, considering how close he had become to the youngest Potter, he had trouble remembering it.

Potter did not bother to look back at Snape as she cooed to the kneazle in her arms and walked back towards the entrance to the castle. He was surprised she had stayed as long as she had, knowing that she must have been cold.

Severus needed a few more moments outside to organize his thoughts, he realized. And perhaps a few more rosebushes for his frustrations.

Over the next few minutes, he was able to catch two more pairs of students trying to frisk each other in the bushes and he was pleased not only to scare them senseless but to dock points as they ran away in shame. He was feeling a little better when he walked back into the castle – he was aware shouldn't be gone too long if he was supposed to be watching over the Champions.

He stopped in his tracks the moment he was in the warmth of the castle. He had not expected to learn that Audrey Potter had not made it back to the Great Hall in the time between her leaving him and him decimating another crop of bushes. But she had not. Instead, she was now swaying to the echoes of the music from the ballroom, held tightly in Draco Malfoy's hands.

Something in Severus' gut spilled with hot, horribly acidic rage. Of all people who could have been attracted to her, Draco Malfoy was likely the most dangerous. Something would have to be done about it.

He would not let a Malfoy date the daughter of the love of his life.

Still, it was odd to see how well they actually…fit together. The grins they were trying to hold back were strangely similar to one another's as if their happiness was intertwined. And as much as they seemed to be bickering, their eyes refused to leave each other despite the many students whispering as they walked past.

It appeared that somehow Draco Malfoy had made Audrey Potter forget about all the gawking students around her…and Snape was not sure how he felt about that. Still, he couldn't stop himself from skimming the wall, moving a little closer so he could listen to their quiet words, but far enough away so that he would not draw attention to himself.

"If you didn't want to dance, you wouldn't have danced with me," Malfoy assured her, his smirk not quite as self-assured as Snape was used to. "I did you a favour."

Snape was aware that he had wanted to do her a larger favour earlier on in the night by asking for the first dance with her, rather than having her dance with Montague. Severus couldn't help but wonder how much of this display was simply out of jealousy…and how much of it was from his feelings on nearly watching her die after being bitten by the dragon.

"And yet, I still don't understand why. You could have danced with anyone," she noted before she rolled her eyes a little. "Somehow you have all these sad little sods wrapped around your finger."

"But I danced with you." He stated plainly.

And then there was a moment, a horrible moment, where Snape felt like he had walked in on something very intimate. It almost looked like they would…kiss. A large part of him wanted to look away because it felt uncomfortable, but another part of him wanted to interrupt simply so that Draco Malfoy would not kiss the young, innocent girl who should not have gotten mixed in with the likes of a Dark family like the Malfoys.

After a moment of being stunned, Potter pulled back from him, shaking her head free from her daze.

"You hate me," she sounded like she was convincing herself more than she was convincing him. Her words seemed to have broken the silence between them.

The boy groaned in disappointment, knowing as well as Severus that the moment was over. "Says who?"

"Well, I hate you."

Malfoy frowned, but there was a humour behind it. "No, you don't."

"Yes I do," she hissed back, sounding like a child. It was a weak argument and, Severus worried, not an honest one.

"No, your brother Harry does. You're just annoyed by me. You and I are much more alike than you care to admit," he explained to her. She grimaced. "And because of your stupid attempts at being loyal to someone you actually hate, you're about to pull away from me like some stupid sod instead of enjoying a dance that was never supposed to happen anyway."

It certainly was not. And if Snape had been in a few minutes before, he would have ensured it.

"I do hate you," she took a step away from him. Snape could feel her anger building, almost like it was a palpable energy within the room. "And you – you clearly hate everything I am."

"I hate your allegiances," he rectified in a light tone. "Your muggle-loving brother, for instance, yes. I loathe him. And don't you think that I've forgotten how you can hate what he is just as much as I do. People think you can't hate your brother, but I know otherwise."

It looked like she was about to protest, but even her expression was not confident.

"At least you made good choices, Potter. Getting into Slytherin proved that there's something better in you; your friends prove that you're worthy of good company. If it weren't for those damned blood traitor twins you're so fond of, I'd say you're one of us."

Was that something she struggled with as much as Snape struggled with it on her behalf? As much as Potter screamed Slytherin during her darkest moments, sometimes she really did seem too compassionate to be sleeping in a dorm full of students who hexed her.

Whatever Malfoy caught of her expression made his own face fall. He rolled his head along his shoulders to will himself not to tense up. "Goodbye to civility, it would seem…"

"Civility? You think that insulting my friends is civil?" Severus did not have to see the young witches face to hear the insult she felt. He could feel her ramping up to tear him apart. "Let me tell you something, you Pureblooded prat. You will never be better than the Weasleys and I can tell you that for a fact. You will never know the meaning of something deeper than appearance! Do you even know that there is something under that hair you're so proud of, or the crests you flaunt around? Or is that the problem, that there isn't anything under that hair of yours? Maybe you're compensating for the fact you're the freak, you're the disgrace."

Malfoy's face had twisted to one of an uncontained ire.

"The Weasleys are just as Pureblooded as you are but I can tell you that they will always be better because at least they know they have something inside of them – something that's worth calling pure."

Potter turned on her heel, headed straight toward Severus. She stopped in her tracks when she saw him. It seemed she didn't know how to react now that she had been caught and the anger she felt was encouraging her actions. Her face was red and blotched with anger and it almost looked like she was holding back frustrated tears by clenching her fists so tightly he heard her knuckles crack.

Just like Parkinson had been.

Perhaps Snape would not give Malfoy a reprieve from detention after all.

Severus Snape's dark eyes flickered back to Malfoy, who looked just as red-handed before he turned his gaze back to the young, emotional girl.

"To bed then, Potter," he told her. "You can make this up some other time."

"Really?" Horrifyingly, her voice cracked, and it looked like she knew just how terrifying it was for him to hear because she tore her eyes from his own. When he didn't respond or change his mind, she nodded. "Thank you, professor."

"Of course," Snape's eyes had snapped back to Malfoy, who seemed frozen in place, knowing his punishment would be severe. He lowered his voice. "Goodnight."

The girl did not respond but moved quickly around to a different corridor so that neither of the men left in her wake would be able to see however she needed to deal with her emotions. Severus briefly wondered if he should have recommended blowing up the rose bushes – something told him she would have enjoyed that.

"You," Snape hissed out, his voice dripping with disdain. "You are taking over her detention. And there's a week of detention to fill once classes resume."

"But I didn't do anything!" He defended, motioning to the place where Potter had disappeared as if they could each see her through the castle walls. "She overreacted, she always does once those damned twins are brought up!"

"Then perhaps you should stop goading her," Snape suggested lowly. "Not all attention is good attention, Draco. And if you want her attention, frustrating her will not win her over."

Malfoy seemed to think about that for a moment. He was silent as his thoughts seemed to scatter around for a moment. Snape briefly wondered just what the boy could have been thinking – and realized he could easily find out – but he waited. The boy needed to learn himself that he was not what Potter needed.

When Malfoy seemed to have organized his thoughts, he looked up at the potion's master. He let out a wince when he saw that the Professor was not swayed by his confusion. "I really have detention?"

Snape grinned devilishly in response.

After all, now that Potter had left the ball, his misery still needed company.

Thank you so much to everyone for your favourites, follows, and reviews. I love getting to hear from you and getting to explore these alternate perspectives. Special shout-outs to my reviewers since the last chapter:

Marta, MiyuKazu, Alisha, Ella710, Littlecosma001, Guests (1 and 2), xXMizz Alec VolturiXx, Allymb5, ImaginativeReader174, RoyalTeeeya, roguesophia, and crazyhappyneko!

I hope you liked this insight into the Yule Ball!

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-Egypt