As he was listening to Minerva go on about how insufferable first years could be, and recounting her amazement when Neville Longbottom had be sorted into Gryffindor, Dumbledoor cast his eyes to the door of the Great Hall, which had swung open to admit Professor Severus Snape, who was looking in as vile a mood as ever. Dumbledoor smiled and waved him over, glad to be free of Minerva’s ongoing chatter.
“Severus,” he began as Severus took a seat beside him, “Do you remember earlier in the summer when I told you that you would be getting a teaching assistant?”
“Certainly, headmaster,” Snape drawled disgustedly. “I was hoping that you had, well, changed your mind.”
“Most certainly not, Severus, most certainly not. She should be arriving at any moment, and when she does, I should hope that you would show her all the respect that you would show any of your other colleagues. It’s true, she’s only twenty-three, but she has more than proved her ability in the field of potions. She wants to teach at Azylum, the Wizarding School in America, when she finishes her internship here.”
“Internship, headmaster?”
“It’s an American practice. Before she is given a job as a potions mistress at Azylum, they want her to have a year of hands on training under a competent potions professor. Seeing as how your name is the first to pop up when one thinks of potions, the headmistress at Azylum has asked that she study under you.”
“I see,” Severus answered coolly. He couldn’t help being flattered inwardly, but he could certainly help showing it outwardly. He kept his same icy grimace.
“Severus, this girl has been through some…well some extraordinary events in the past year or so. I genuinely hope that you will show her as much tenderness as you can. Her misfortunes have made her sensitive, and I know that you can be…well; you know how you can be. In any case, try not to provoke her as you do the students. Remember, she doesn’t need teaching in the area of nerve. She’s been through enough practice with that.”
“I see, headmaster. You have my word. What is her name, by the way?”
“Estacia.”
“That name sounds Spanish.”
“Well, I am not sure. I suppose you’ll have to ask her where her name originated from when she gets here, won’t you,” the headmaster asked with a knowing grin.Severus knew that Dumbledoor knew where Estacia’s name had come from. That much was obvious. What was also obvious was the fact that Dumbledoor planned not to tell Snape much about her in order to force him to open a conversation with her.
“What are these extraordinary circumstances you speak of, headmaster?”
“I am not completely sure, my friend, but it seems as if you’ll have the chance to ask her yourself,” Albus answered as he nodded toward the door to the Great Hall. It had swung open and shut so quickly and so silently, Severus had not even seen the young woman who was now gliding toward himself and Dumbledoor enter.
Snape noticed that she walked with her head toward the ground and avoided eye contact with everyone, even when being spoken to. ‘Perhaps it is simply the shock of being in a new country,’ Snape thought to himself. Estacia approached the headmaster and himself, and extended her hand. She made eye contact with Albus, but it seemed as if she had to force it. Dumbledoor extended his hand to her, and she allowed hers to be taken, if not timidly. Albus enveloped her delicate hand in his and squeezed tenderly. “Miss Miguella. How very pleased I am to meet you,” he said as he shook her hand and then let it drop. “I, of course, and Professor Albus Dumbledoor, and this,” he said, motioning to Severus, “is Professor Severus Snape. This is the man under whom you will be learning this year.”
Estacia looked briefly into Snape’s eyes and quickly cast her gaze downward. She did, however, manage a quick smile before looking away. Snape noticed that one side of her shining flaxen hair, the side facing him now, was tucked behind her ear. The other, however, hung in a thick panel against the left side of her face as if hiding something. He found it odd that she was constantly repositioning the right side behind her ear and being very sure to leave the left side as it was. It aroused his curiosity. Before much could be said, the students began to file in and be seated, and Minerva brought in the first years and the sorting had begun. Estacia had taken a seat to his right, so that the panel of hair on the left side of her head faced him. He couldn’t explain why he wanted so badly to just remove that sheet of hair and see what was hiding under it. In any case, he desperately wanted, more than anything else, to just slide that wall of hair back and see what was behind it. He decided that since he would be showing her to her bedchambers anyway (they were right across the hall from his), he would simply invite her in for a glass of wine before bed and just casually work it into his chit chat.
And so, as the pair were walking (silently) down the stairs, Severus turned to Estacia and asked, “would you like to come and have a glass of wine with me? I thought that perhaps we could get to know each other. We will, after all, be spending quite a bit of time together. Estacia’s face turned nearly as crimson as the wine that Severus was thinking of, but to his surprise, she accepted with a simple “Yes, thank you.”