"Quidditch," she whispered to herself as she went outside. She always felt more secure and happy out of doors. "I do hope I get on as Seeker.. but that's a long shot. Everyone will want that position." Strolling along, Mahou didn't really care who saw her, for she didn't know if she was breaking the rules or not.

Her hat clung to her head as the chill air caught her. Smiling, the girl slipped off her cloak and draped it over her arm, loving the feel of the crisp air on her skin. Taking a look around, Mahou saw that she had come to some sort of forest..

"Is this the Forbidden Forest?" she asked herself in a whisper. "It doesn't look so bad to me." Taking a few more steps, she touched a tree, feeling a chill as the spirit of it connected with her. "Lovely tree you are," she murmured. Running her hand on the trunk, the girl leaned against it, whispering inaudibly in a strange, yet musical language.

As the Feast began to break up, Professor Snape decided to take a walk in the grounds to stretch his legs but more importantly to get away from the relentless 'good cheer' that pervaded the Great Hall.

In passing close to the trees of the Forbidden Forest, he spied the form of a student standing close to one of the trees. Drawing closer he recognised her from that morning as one of those new students accompanying Nimue Hawkwood in Diagon Alley. He had taken no time for introductions when he had escorted the party to the waiting cars.

Whatever nonsense she was now getting up to, he would have none of it. He cleared his throat and stood there waiting for her to realise that she was no longer alone.

********

Mahou and Severus Snape were not the only two in the Forbidden Forest.

Piotr had been quietly following Mahou. Not for any nefarious reasons, but simply because he enjoyed silent stalking. It was probably part of the change, he reasoned. Why fight it? He had watched incredulously as she had spoken to the trees, barely containing the snigger he'd felt rise to the surface.

Then he'd heard Snape clear his throat and had melted into the shadows, his violet eyes half-closed, remaining as stock still as he could and as quiet as he could be. Which, believe me, was extremely still and quiet.

He had formed his opinion of Snape instantly during their meeting at the end of the previous term and he decided that he still didn't trust the Potions Master. It might be a two way street - Snape had made his distaste of Piotr almost palpably obvious - but Piotr planned to find some way to achieve dominance in *that* particular relationship.

He remained still, barely even breathing, whilst he watched. And learned.

Mahou talked with the tree about Quidditch, Hogwarts, and her loneliness in the whole situation. She talked about Nimue, her parents, Dumbledore, and many other things that had happened to her. But upon hearing the clearing of a throat behind her, Mahou shrieked and whirled around.

There he stood.. Severus Snape in all his black-clad glory. Mahou's eyes widened as they seemed to glow in the dark. "I-I be sorry Sir," she stammered, clutching her cloak to her. She hoped he hadn't heard her talking in Elfin. If he was a professor, then he surely would know what the language sounded like. "I dinnae ken where I was.. I saw th' trees an'.. me heart jus' took me tha' way."

She stared up at him, her heart beating so fast if threatened to burst. Snape's hair is what caught her eye first, like a wave of midnight that the moon overlooked. His eyes made her stare openly, like a Faery drawn to a bowl of honeyed cream. Looking away, Mahou put her cloak back on, wringing her hands in nervousness. "I be sorry, Sir," she muttered, looking back up, a strange sort of admiration in her eyes. "I dinna ken.. I be new here." She knew she must sound stupid, and she wished she didn't.

She just stood there, not knowing what to do, and not daring to tell him the truth. And she didn't know of Piotr.. yet. ;)

Severus Snape sighed audibly. He had indeed recognised the language the girl had spoken, which identified her as the half-elven student that the Headmaster had advised his senior staff was joining them this year. He also recognised that her nervousness was not the justifiable fear that his presence should strike into the heart of all students but the beginnings of a schoolgirl crush.

He went to great pains to avoid such nonsense but there was inevitably one foolish student who annually mistook his demeanour as being that of a melancholic anti-hero. Experience proved neutrality was the best course of action in such instances.

"Miss Amberstone, I would suggest you consider disciplining your 'heart' as well as your feet. The forest isn't for midnight strolls and there are creatures within quite happy to snack upon unwary students not matter how confident they feel."

He indicated that she should follow him back to the castle.

"Creatures...quite happy to snack on unwary students." Piotr felt a slow, cruel smile spread across his face. How very, very appropriate. He wondered, momentarily, if Snape was actually aware of his presence, but deemed it unlikely. When Piotr didn't want to be seen, he usually wasn't.

He did reconsider his plans for venturing too far into the Forest though, after hearing the Potions Master's words. He might have been a deadly creature himself, but that didn't stop him being a potential corpse if he strayed too far into unknown territory. He was not a full vampire yet.

He shifted slightly in his position and fixed Mahou with his intense eyes. Well, well. There was another useful piece of potentially potent information that could be recalled at a suitable later date.

A sudden twinge at the back of his head forced him back to reality with a bump. He was overdue for his dose of potion. And he dared not move to take it out of his robes all the time such movement would give him away.

Silently, he willed Mahou to follow Snape without question. The sting in his head was spreading fast, and he hated the pain more than anything.

Mahou averted her eyes from Snape's harsh look (as he always has that ;) ), her vivid green, slanted eyes taking in the texture of the grass at her feet. She looked up at him again, squaring her shoulders and looking quite defiant.

"I'll follow ye back ta th' castle," she told him, her tone quite neutral yet musical as her elfish accent bled through her Irish one. "But Headmaster Dumbledore did tell me tha' I can go inta th' forest as long as Hagrid be wi' me, sir."

She looked at him with an expression of interest and questioning. "But e'en though Hagrid nae be here, as I ken ye would point out, I dinnae ken tha' this was, indeed, th' Forbidden Forest tha' Ma told me about." She suppressed a smile. "I suppose there nae be a sign ta point out such things ta those who had nae e'en heard o' Hogwarts? I wouldna ha'e come ta th' forest if I had kenned tha' it was th' Forbidden Forest."

Walking beside the man, Mahou took Blackfoot out of her pocket, setting her on her shoulder. The small fox sniffed at Snape and yipped happily, pawing at him, wanting to be paid attention to.

Giggling, Mahou petted the animal on her head and looked up at Snape. "Ye ken me own name, sir, but," She didn't offer a hand since they were walking, but dipped her body in a sort of travelling curtsy. "Wha' be yer name, if I may inquire o' such?" She reverted back to Cerrydwin's usual politeness in dealing with teachers.

Turning her oddly glowing eyes forward, Mahou hummed a soft tune, her voice sounding sweet as shortcake. She took out her piped from the pocket that Blackfoot had been in, likening to hold them.

"Ye ken, sir," she began, hoping to just make some pleasant conversation on their trek back to the castle, "I got top marks in potions in me auld school. I was hopin' ta talk ta Professor Snape, I think was his name, abou' takin' Alchemy along wi' Potions this year. An' Headmaster Dumbledore," she added hastily, knowing that the Headmaster would probably have some say in it. "I love potions class deeply an' I would love ta take a class tha' would help me learn more o' it."

She sighed, clasping her hands before her, her eyes forward on the looming castle. "I just donnae ken if I'll be able ta talk ta him. I donnae ken how ta ask him abou' it." Quirking her mouth, she patted Blackfoot on the head again, glancing at Snape out of the corner of her eye.

*****

Piotr watched as the two began walking off and heaved out a shuddering sigh of relief. He hadn't been aware that he'd been holding his breath until that moment.

The spreading pain in his head had reached his eye sockets and he closed his eyes, trying to will the pain away with sheer effort of thought, which he knew was going to be pointless. He had to leave it some time before heading back to the castle - if he caught up or overtook Snape and Mahou, or even if they spied him following them, they'd know he'd come from the Forbidden Forest, and he couldn't be bothered to answer questions.

Instead, he slid down against the tree whose shadows he had blended in with so spectacularly and, pulling his knees close to his chest, buried his head in his lap and tried to breath normally. The pain in his head was slowly fading, to be replaced by the strange, buzzing, tingling feeling he always got when the Thirst started.

// Don't think about it, // he urged himself. But he couldn't help it. Mahou and Snape...had been within such a short distance. He could have...

// DON'T think about it! // More angry this time. He unfurled from his position, his pupils dilated so much that his violet irises were barely visible. In the half-light, Piotr looked as though his eyes were totally black, black as coals, black as midnight. He was so *thirsty*.

A sound of a twig cracking somewhere in the Forest made him look up. He ran a hand through his hair. This was a Forest. Surely there would be...squirrels. Rats. Anything that he could discreetly avail himself of. Going back to the Owlery was too much of a risk. He got to his feet and moved deeper into the woods. Had anyone been in the immediate vicinity of the forest, there would have been heard a squeal, a sickening crunch, and then nothing.

When Piotr emerged, some minutes later, his pupils were still dilated, but there was a touch of colour in his alabaster cheeks. He raised his sleeve to wipe his mouth and stared impassively at the dark stain that showed up as a patch of wetness on his black robe sleeve. Better cute, fluffy little animals than one of the students, he justified, considering he'd given himself long enough to wait for Snape and Mahou to have got out of sight.

He walked slowly towards the castle, looking like someone concentrating on the simple art of moving forwards. Under his breath he was counting the steps to the door. He'd be inside, soon, would be able to get to his potion, would be able to control it.

What would happen the day the potion no longer became effective? The day the immunity to the ever increasing, all consuming lust for blood became his driving force?

He refused to think about it. Instead, he tried to think of Snape's face the moment the Potions Master had realised Mahou had a schoolgirl crush on him. A thin smile lifted the corner of his mouth. That had been priceless. And Piotr was sure the opportunity would arise to extract something in return for a promise not to pass on such...sensitive information.

******

"Miss Amberstone" Snape said sharply - finding her manner cloying to say the least. It might work on someone such as Dumbledore who probably found it and her musical lilt charming but it made no inroads into Severus Snape's good books. He was also not one for 'pleasant conversation' with students. He avoided that sort of thing even with those few whose company he could stomach.

"I am Professor Snape. If you had enquired this morning undoubtedly your House Prefect would have advised you of that fact. As for your participation in the Alchemy Class if you consider that your grades in Potions warrant your inclusion place your name down for the option and it will be considered along with the others before Tuesday."

Mahou stopped walking, her pointed ears twitching beneath her hat. She had heard something back in the direction of the forest. She turned her head to look, but saw nothing, her ears straining to hear something. Then she felt her blood run cold at Snape's harsh addressing of her.

Looking up at him, Mahou still didn't move, her feet seemingly planted in the ground like so much grass, or like that tree she had spoken to. ~At least the tree was pleasant,~ she thought bitterly. ~Oh well..~ She didn't look at him, rather stared meaningfully at her interesting shoes, or what she proposed was interesting. She had been hit with a ton of bricks; this was Professor Snape. She had been trying to make conversation with the Potions Master of the school.

She curtsied rather elegantly, her Cerrydwin's teaching coming back full force in her nervousness and embarrassment. "Forgive me, Professor," she implored, her head down and eyes averted, as she had been taught, "I did no' ken it was ye." She clasped her hands before her, her form shivering, not in fear, but embarrassment. She didn't know what else to say, only that she couldn't move. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't will her feet to make her walk. She stood there, rooted to the spot, her lime-green eyes literally glowing in the dark. Blackfoot growled at Snape and barked loudly several times.

"I only jus' met th' Prefect at th' end o' last term," she explained, smacking Blackfoot on the nose with a hushed, ~Quiet~ in elfin. "I didna see her since then, m'lord. I donnae e'en recall wha' she looks like. Th' only person I've talked ta really since then be.. um.. no' th' Prefect b'cause he wansa o' me own House." She dared not mention Luis's name, figuring that this sour man was the Head of Slytherin. Her elfish accent overpowered her Irish lilt, her embarrassment and nervousness overtaking her. She stood there, planted like so many daisies.

*What on earth was wrong with this girl's memory?* thought Snape.

"Miss Amberstone, correct me if I am mistaken but were you not in the company of Elizabeth Hawkwood, the Fourth Year Prefect of Gryffindor House and Mr. Luis Verga of Slytherin House in Diagon Alley this morning? Was I imagining your presence there or have you a twin?"

He glowered at her fox cub whose yapping annoyed his almost as much as her accent. Thank the gods she hadn't been sorted to Slytherin.

"Come along and don't dawdle!"

Mahou could have slapped herself. She had forgotten about that completely in her train ride with Luis where she had spilled her secrets about Cerrydwin's.

"I forgot about tha', Professor," she told him, truth ringing in her voice. "I was wi' Miss Hawkwood and Sir Verga earlier, yes. But I am nae lying when I tell ye tha' I forgot." She stood there, her mouth a thin line, her form rigid as a redwood in a storm. "An' I would aske ye politely nae ta glare at Blackfoot. She be only a pup." With that, Mahou stalked on ahead of Snape, wishing she had her broomstick to whap him over the head.

~Wha' in th' worlds be wrong wi' me?~ she thought as she slowed her pace, feeling a twinge in her back. That had been starting to hurt a lot more lately and she didn't know why. ~He be insufferable, but.. ah well. I guess I do ha'e a crush on 'im.~ She didn't dare glance back, though. She looked to her right and saw something marvellous.. a ring of mushrooms. She tried to stay on her course to the castle, but couldn't contain herself. She raced in that direction, not caring about the consequences. This was a

Faery Ring.. something she hadn't seen since Ireland.

Slipping in her haste, Mahou gathered her wits and stepped into the Faery Ring. Only someone who could truly see the spirits of the forest could see a blinding light that burst from the mushrooms as Mahou stepped in. She smiled as she stood, spreading her hands as if to embrace the light, embrace the feeling that she felt; the feeling of being home.

The light dyed down and Mahou smiled still, her body feeling weak and weary from her brief dance with the Faery in their Realm. Her body had not gone, but her soul had. She fell to her knees, supporting herself with her hands, her breath laboured slightly. She tried to calm herself and regain her strength, knowing that the sourpuss Snape-man wouldn't like this one bit.

~*Who cares wha' he thinks.. this be me nature,*~ Mahou whispered to herself. ~*I donnae stop him from being sour, do I? So why should he be able ta stop me from dancin' wi' th' Fae like Da told me ta? He told me, whene'er I see a Faery Ring, Dance with the Fae as if 'twere Spring.*~ She looked up at Snape, her face ready and able to deal with whatever he had to throw at her.

Mahou's sudden detour to do her little dance in the fairy ring almost pushed Snape over the edge in terms of annoyance. Still he maintained his calm ... somehow.

He had decided that any attempt at normal conversation with this girl was futile, as she was obviously not quite all there. In her case 'away with the fairies' was quite literal. He could just imagine Flitwick's enthusiasm when he found out - Snape resolved not to tell him of course.

When she had finished and looked up there was merely a look of bored indifference on his face.

"If you are *quite* finished Miss Amberstone."