• Prologue

  In a warm and cosy office, at the top of a castle in the North of Scotland somewhere, invisible to muggle eyes, a heated discussion was going on. The participants, unwilling though they may have been, were an old wizard, with long white hair and a beard hiding the wrinkles on his face; a prim and proper witch, with a stern expression masking what could have been pleasant features, her hair scraped back from her head into the tightest of buns, and a greasy, unpleasant looking wizard, robed all in black, a permanent sneer etched on his miserable face.
  
  Albus Dumbledore turned his back on Snape in exasperation. For an hour now they had been arguing the same old point and Severus was loathe to give in. Albus had tried being reasonable, tried being stern and even sunk as low as to cajole the reluctant potions master to come around to his way of thinking, though none of the methods had worked. After looking out of the window and contemplating the colour of the highland sky for a minute he turned back, and found two pairs of eyes boring into him.
  
  "Come Severus," the elder wizard chided, "it would be most advantageous to have her here. Her magical abilities alone would be invaluable in aiding us in this unfortunate time, yet I feel that she would be the most helpful in teaching our students…" he paused, and smiled as though amused by his own thoughts, "well, shall we say that she will teach the children what they need to know."
  
  Severus snorted at this, a large part of his displeasure stemming from the fact that the subject the young witch was being called to Scotland to teach was Defence Against the Dark Arts. This was the position he had been coveting for years and sometimes he felt that the headmaster denied him it purely out of spite.
  
  "Severus," Dumbledore's tone was reproachful now, "you know that I need you as a potions master, who else is half as skilled as you?" This much was true, although the flattery did little to help ease the scowl on the sinister man's countenance. Confusion showed momentarily as he wondered if the headmaster had known what he was thinking. *Probably better not to insult him in hearing… or thinking distance,* he mused silently, eliciting a grin from man watching him.
  
  "And there is the prophecy to think of too."
  
  Snape's scowl set further. "The ramblings of a vampire, trapped in perpetual childhood? Albus, I expected more sense from you."
  
  "It cannot harm though, to have a young witch who so accurately matches the prophecy," Albus smiled at him, "can it?" An uncomfortable silence set in, with Snape unable to think of an argument, yet still unwilling to give his support to Albus' scheme.
  
  "So, it is settled then!" Snape looked up in surprise at this sudden announcement; he could have sworn that he hadn't agreed to anything. Before he had a chance to protest Albus had hastily handed a sealed letter to Minerva McGonagall and sent her from his office. After closing the door he slowly paced back to his desk, and took up his seat once more, making sure he was quite comfortable before acknowledging Severus' remaining presence. The potions master was glaring at him once more, annoyed the old man had ignored his protests, and Dumbledore sighed inwardly before addressing the irate teacher. "She will help this school Severus. Give her a chance, she might even help you too."
  
  
  -: Chapter 1 :-
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