Please note that I am updating each chapter; editing for spelling, grammar, you name I need to change it. I will not, however, touch the notes at the end of each chapter, just the main body of the text.

Oh and I guess if anyone is reading this for the first time… this is set in Harry's last year and is completely AU. COMPLETELY AU!!!!!

I do intend to finish this story… ;-) But it really needs polishing first. March 2008.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing to do with HP or the HP universe. I am making no money from this; it is purely for enjoyment.

Professor Snape had realised a long yearned for ambition; he had finally ascended to the position of Defence Against Dark Arts Master. He was magnanimous in his victory and was more than willing to condescend in relinquishing his Potions Classroom to the New Potions Mistress. He was not, however, willing to give up his own personal rooms down there; which was just as well really. He was still the Head of Slytherin and as such needed to be near the student's dorm rooms to be able to keep control.

Megan Kincaid, the new Potions Mistress was quite happy to be accommodated in the staff quarters; and Snape had given up one of his precious store rooms, albeit grudgingly, for the study she would need near the classroom. He had been quite unwilling and indeed, completely uncommunicative, when Professor Dumbledore had tried to prise him away from his own study to the one situated in his new classroom.

And so, here she was now, Megan Kincaid, looking around the rather dreary, cold room that was to become her new study.

"Something is wrong, Professor?" Snape asked Megan as he watched her looking around the room he had cleared for her. It was dark, damp and smelled of some sort of potions all mixed in together; it was unpleasant and he knew it.

"No." She smiled up at his dark, unsmiling face. She watched his lank hair fall forward slightly, it black as night, no hint of brown at all; just like those eyes of his, black and bottomless. Like a shark.

She looked away still smiling, an uneasy feeling washing over her. She felt as if he could look into her soul and know everything about her which was a very unsettling feeling for her.

"Please, call me Meg." She breezed across to where a solitary desk stood up by one wall. "This is perfect! Thank you very much for letting me use some space down here." She was speaking to him as she placed her small box on the tale and began to pull her possessions out of it.

Snape stood in the doorway watching, his half shut eyes, as an amazing array of items were pulled out and sent to different locations in the room. He could take it no more when she pulled a twelve foot Persian rug from the two foot box and with a flick of her wand had it settled on the floor.

"Professor Kincaid..." he began, completely ignoring her request for him to call her Meg. "Your box is unusual; most people pack in trunks."

"Oh, I know." She looked up at him quickly, her grey eyes flashing with humour. "But I've always been a sucker for Disney films, and Mary Poppins just has the most amazing carpet bag. Just a little spell and, while it's not as nice as a carpet bag, it does." She grinned impishly at him and carried on.

"I have no idea what your talking about," he stated coldly.

She looked up and he thought for one second she was taken aback before once again the closed expression covered her face.

"You don't? Oh no… you wouldn't, would you. Never mind. Who knows, one day." She shrugged absentmindedly and slapped her hand over her stomach as it gave a very unladylike growl.

"Darn. Sorry." She had the grace to blush, rolling her eyes "Starved; is.." she cleared her throat, "dinner, anytime soon?" she asked hopefully.

Snape didn't bother to hide the sneer that crossed his face. He opened his mouth to reply something sarcastic but closed it again. After all, he could be gracious in his new position.

"We will up now." He stood back and watched as she straightened up; the delight showing on her face clearly.

"Wonderful!" She beamed and swept out of the room regally, starting down the passageway happily.

"Professor Kincaid!" His cold voice stopped her dead, she turned and grinned.

"This way." He pointed down the other corridor, a sneer curling his lips.

"It was a long time ago that I was here last, and then I didn't frequent these dungeons more than necessary." She swept past him, her head high, just a little embarrassed that she'd almost got lost.

Snape's lip curled in derision. Just what he needed; another professor that was flighty. He thought they'd seen the back of flighty teachers when Lockhart lost his memory. Ah! What a day that was. Probably the only thing that Weasley boy ever did that Snape could grudgingly say he approved of. Shaking his head, his features resumed their normal dark glare as he followed her.

Meg was seated at the staff table; her eyes wandering over the multitude of children all waiting, all talking at once. She looked down at her plate and covered her stomach quickly as a low rumbling could be heard. She was seated between Professor Snape and the tiny teacher Professor Flitwick..

"Not long, m'dear," he whispered winking at her. "Just have the first years sorted and then we eat!"

Meg blushed and grinned at him

"I'm sorry. Awfully rude of me, but I haven't eaten since breakfast, which seems like years ago now."

"Not to worry, won't be long."

"I hope not. Or I might just end up eating the tablecloth," she laughed and heard Professor Snape snort.

"Pardon?" She turned to him, her grey eyes large and innocent in her face.

He regarded her as if she was a bad smell under his nose.

"I didn't say anything Professor Kincaid," he snarled, not caring that she'd heard him.

"Oh, I know you didn't," she said artlessly. "But you definitely snorted." She smiled widely at him, but he caught the traces of mockery in her eyes.

"Do you have a problem? Here, it's completely clean." She drew out a tiny square of fabric from the copious sleeves of her robes and pressed it into his clasped hands on the table.

"Er... no… I don't.." Snape began to say something but Meg waved her hand airily and turned back to Professor Flitwick. She caught Minerva McGonagall's eye and winked, Minerva's eyes twinkled and she hid her grin by turning to Dumbledore who was beside her.

He suddenly stood and began to speak and Megan watched in total awe as the first years came in. She remembered her own sorting with fondness, but it was certainly different watching it from this end of things.

Her hunger was momentarily forgotten as she watched. Each house reacting when a student was assigned to them, she watched as the last one was sorted and then listened to Dumbledore's beginning of year speech, and then finally, the food.

"Ah!" She cried in glee and picking up her knife and fork tucked in with relish.

She had finished and became aware of Snape's completely untouched pile of toast.

"Er..." she eyed it and looked at him. "Er.. not to your liking?" She caught his eye and nodded to his toast.

He arched an eyebrow at her but remained silent.

"Have you finished?" she asked again. The same hopeful tone in her voice that he'd heard in the dungeons.

"And if I have?" he asked slowly, deeply, his face giving nothing away; except for a slight distaste of her.

"Well... it seems such a waste," she pointed out.

He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Do you eat this way all the time, Professor Kincaid?"

"Good Lord no," she cried. "I haven't seen food this excellent since… well... since I used to be here." She beamed at him and pounced on his toast just as the headmaster announced her name as being the new potions teacher. She choked on a crumb of toast and desperately tried to stifle a cough as she smiled at the sea of faces all looking at her. The result was her face went red and she looked more like she was grimacing than smiling. Dumbledore saw her discomfort and immediately called their attention to other things.

Megan was trying hard to cough quietly; Professor Flitwick pressed a glass of water into her hand.

Professor Snape took great delight in giving her one solid whack on the back, which worked; although painfully. She recovered, drinking the water and thanked the two professors. Snape had what could only be described as a look of innate pleasure at her discomfort.

"Go ahead... say it," she husked; her eyes watering profusely.

"Hum?" he arched an eyebrow at her, looking very aloof and cold.

"It serves me right for being an absolute pig." She grinned and winked at him, her eyes still watering.

"Well it does," he agreed.

"Humph!" Flitwick eyed Snape with obvious distaste.

"Oh come now, Severus," Minerva murmured. "Poor girl hasn't eaten since this morning."

"And now won't have to eat again for at least a week. Judging by what has been packed away," he observed with dislike; he got up and swept away from the table.

"I'm sorry. Severus is... "

"A law unto himself," Megan cut in quickly and shook her head, her grin still in place "Don't worry... doesn't affect me one little bit." Meg hid her true thoughts excellently. Something she had been doing for a very long time now.

She looked at the empty seat Snape had been sitting in and repressed a sigh. Meg had heard a lot about Professor Snape. He hadn't been teaching at Hogwarts when she'd been a student. She'd left just before he'd started teaching. But still his reputation was well known; cold, calculating, aloof. They certainly fitted the man well.

Meg was glad that he hadn't been there when she had. If he had any idea about what lay in her past she knew he'd have the upper hand over her. At least this way, they started off evenly.

Meg decided to keep well out of his way as much as possible; if that was possible at all.

A/N: Just the start, please keep trying...