Tuesday morning after Halloween began with the sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins awaiting their first lesson with eagerness. They all wondered what their new Defence teacher would be like having received very excited but cryptic reports by the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs the day before ("He's great, but you'll have to see yourself.").

They all stood in front of the classroom chatting. Only a few minutes before class started he arrived greeting them all quietly. His voice seemed even, rather deep yet smooth. Though coming from Japan according to Dumbledore, his accent suggested him having lived in England for quite some time.

After he had opened the door, they entered and took their usual seats feeling even more excited than before. A little puzzled, Harry noticed that their new professor didn't hold the class register when stepping in front of them.

He wouldn't be starting by learning their names.

"What is the basic form of defence?"

The question was asked quietly. At first, nobody spoke until Hermione lifted her hand.

"There is no need to lift your hands. As long as you do not interrupt each other, you may simply tell me what you think."

Hermione put her hand down and said, "Shielding Charms are very basic."

"I rather thought of the Disarming Charm," Seamus interjected. Dean nodded in agreement saying that it was the combination of both.

"Best defence is a good offence," Nott said, "If you suck at duelling, you won't stand a chance anyway." The rest of the Slytherins agreed including Blaise who added, "Theodore is right, but I think it's best to avoid a fight in the first place. More basic than that you cannot get."

Harry observed their new professor who seemed genuinely curious and no less observant than the young wizard who was watching him.

Malfoy rattled down five spells that would indeed form a rather sophisticated defence, but Harry didn't agree unlike most in his class (including the Gryffindors albeit reluctantly).

Professor Aikokyushin (or Moraku as he was called in the castle because of his complicated last name) nodded, "That is indeed a solid defence, however I asked you about the most basic form of defence. Does anybody have another idea?"

Nobody spoke and Harry decided to add his opinion.

"Running, ducking, hiding," his voice was quiet but firm.

Silently Moraku nodded, standing now on the opposite of Harry's desk. The Boy Who Lived was suddenly overcome by a foreboding feeling. Practically imperceptibly he bent his wrist slightly so the wand (which he was carrying in a wand-holder under his cloak these days) was at the ready.

Only guessing the drawing of the wand by his opponent, he reflexively jumped aside- raising his own wand while turning, immediately ready to fight.

At that, their new professor put his wand away showing his bare hands as a sign of peace.

Harry didn't think about lowering his wand. The abruptness of the attack had caused his heart rate to accelerate. Adrenaline rushed through his veins.

"I apologize for attacking you, Mr Potter," Harry was a little surprised to see the man knowing his name since he hadn't noticed him examining his scar, "I knew that - since you are aware of the significance of physically avoiding an attack - you would be capable of defending yourself. I do hope that I didn't frighten you by it."

"Sir, except for one," Harry fell silent again, when he thought of Professor Lupin's transformation in their third year, "No, actually every single Defence against the Dark Arts professor teaching at this school has either tried to kill, obliviate or at least harm me, sir. I would be glad if you'd never do anything like this again."

"Once again, I apologize, Mr Potter. Be assured it will never happen again unless you have received a proper warning beforehand."

Harry nodded slightly. The man was sincere.

He was sure of it, so put his wand away.

The professor seemed to relax as soon as Harry lowered his defence. He walked back behind his own desk standing in front of the board focusing the entire class.

"I personally agree with Mr Potter and yet would take it even one step further, nearly as far as the gentleman over there," he gestured towards Blaise who nodded thoughtfully, "But maybe, you’ll be able to find the answer yourselves. How was it possible for Mr Potter to run, duck and hide as he said so himself?"

Some looked at Harry as if waiting for him to answer, others looked thoughtful.

"He was ready," Hermione said, "He tensed up the second you stood right in front of his desk. He expected a reaction."

Moraku nodded.

"Running, ducking, hiding… The most basic form of defence has nothing to do with magical power or weaponry. Your body is being attacked; your body has to react. But all is useless if your mind isn't ready. Alertness or as your last teacher in this subject said: Constant…"

"Vigilance," the class ended for him, some laughing, some rather exasperated.

This was the first time they saw their new professor smile, "There is a fine line however, between the alertness I am trying to teach you and the constant vigilance he talked about. I do not want you to believe that the next fight awaits you around the next corner. I hope to be able show you when a person has the actual intention to attack and when they don't. I want you to listen to your senses without becoming incapable of trusting others."

With those words he turned around and took the class register.

"This is my general goal for this class. Apart from this, we will look at the art of deflecting curses, shields and wards. Tuesdays will deal with the theory and new spells, while on Fridays I would like to do practical exercises with you. Does anybody have a question?"

"Aren't you afraid of the DADA curse?" Seamus asked raising his hand only to lower it again an instant later.

"Pardon me?"

"There is a jinx on this post," Dean explained, "Aren't you afraid of it?"

"As far as I heard, the curse would only have an effect if I intended to stay for more than a year would." It was impossible to say whether the wizard was serious or not.

"What's your opinion concerning the war?" Pansy Parkinson asked, causing the whole room to stare at her. Harry felt his limbs go numb… Every night he expected Voldemort to use another Unspeakable and though it wasn't the case, the thought of having to experience this scar pain again hindered his rest. Apart from this, the more he was forced to watch, the more he was afraid of having to observe a friend or acquaintance of his be captured… He hated to be remembered of the war inside of a classroom. Nevertheless, he knew that apart from reading the Daily Prophet in the morning this was one of the few moments when his class mates were confronted with the reality outside of the safe walls of Hogwarts.

He could only hope they would never suffer from the loss of a family member and would remain oblivious to the war. That Pansy's words were the closest they ever had to deal with. He knew his hopes were everything but rational.

Moraku looked at Pansy severely, "Miss…" Pansy said her full name, "Miss Parkinson, I think the fact I came here on Professor Dumbledore's request should already answer your question, but I will be frank: the dark wizard commonly known as Lord Voldemort has committed and is committing despicable crimes, at this point I am not even sure if he can even be called a human being for he has deprived himself of all humanity that might have been a part of him once. What he does to the soul of magic is barbaric and has absolutely nothing to do with greatness as his followers claim."

Harry was taken aback, not by the words themselves but the emotion they carried: disgust and horror mingled with the same fear he noticed in everybody (save Dumbledore) who mentioned Voldemort and yet he had spoken the name aloud. He had to have stared since all of a sudden Moraku caught his gaze, looking at him curiously.

He then lifted the parchment containing the class register at a preferable height to read and started to name each student, though skipping Harry and Pansy.

When he was finished, he resumed with his lecture.

"Professor Moody gave me a detailed list of what you learned under his supervision and of what you still have to do. As I understand it, you study nonverbal magic at the moment… We will of course come back to this on practical lessons on Fridays unless I see you struggle with it. If that is the case we will be using part of our Tuesdays studying nonverbal magic instead of learning new spells, however let me say so much: an incantation is a mere help to focus on what you want with the exception of Charms, where the wrong pronunciation can have disastrous consequences. However, note that I learned the Japanese incantations at first and yet am able to have the same effect as you who use words with its roots in Latin. It is important that you have a clear image of what you want and by that I do not necessarily mean an actual picture. Some of you may respond better to one of the four other senses: sounds, smells, tastes and tactile sensations, while the latter is closely related to emotion as in experiencing the spell."

The Gryffindors plus Blaise and Millicent stared at their new professor all remembering that DA lesson one night when Harry had told them how every spell responded to all five senses and one simply had to find out which sense suited best. Hearing it from anybody else but Harry was rather surprising.

Harry's eyes glimmered, already feeling his respect rise. Yes, the man would do a good job as a teacher at Hogwarts.

Nott, Pansy, Malfoy and his two bodyguards looked a little puzzled and suspicious, though Harry would have bet a whole box of Chocolate Frogs on the fact that Goyle looked up in surprise and curiosity.

"Professor Moody also gave me a rather impressive list of all the defence spells and counter curses you know. Additionally you have acquired much information about dark creatures thanks to Professor Lupin in your third year. This year, we will more or less complete that knowledge, however, concerning spells I'd rather you perfect ten spells by training them a hundred times than have you practice one hundred spells only ten times. If you do not agree with this concept, remember that Mr. Malfoy gave a suggestion for a solid defence and it only contained five incantations. Concerning dark creatures there is one more species I want you to be able to fight off and with this topic I want to begin our theory lesson: what do you know about Dementors?"

"They're huge, ugly things with hoods that cover their faces," Seamus said causing half of the class to smile, though they sobered rather quickly.

"They feed off of positive emotion," Dean added.

"The Dementor's kiss is the highest punishment possible in British Wizarding law. It means that the Dementor steals the criminal's soul," Hermione said.

"After a Dementor was near you, the best thing you can do, is eat some chocolate," Neville said.

"The Patronus Charm fights off an attack," Millicent added.

Moraku smiled slightly, "Very good. I see you already know what is essential concerning Dementors. Apart from learning the Patronus Charm we will also go further concerning the creature itself. Does anybody know something special about Dementors?"

"Muggles can't see them," Harry said thinking of Dudley, "When they're around you for too long all you have left are your very worst memories. So, their effect on you basically depends on what you've already experienced." He gulped slightly when he was thinking of Sirius, "As long as their thoughts are not completely focused on you, you can fight them off simply by concentrating on neutral or cold but not harrowing moments in your life. Like this there is nothing they can take. However, as soon as they attack you directly trying this would be futile."

Moraku nodded again. He was almost as difficult to read as Snape though Harry was unable to say if this had to do with Occlumency or simply because the man was just very collected and Harry had yet to learn how to read his emotions.

"The first Dementors were spotted thousands of years ago. It is said they existed ever since the human race started to form civilizations with cultural traditions and social formations beyond mere domestic organization. Others say that this occurred several hundred years later when those of magical capabilities decided to cut themselves off from those without magical abilities. What is known for sure is that Dementors are closely adapted to humans, their – for lack of a better word – digestive system is only able to bear the emotion of humans while beings like goblins, unicorns and those of Elven ancestry who are known to feel as deeply as humans are completely unaffected by them." Harry wrote this down immediately. He hadn't known that.

Malfoy on the other hand only scoffed, probably because of Moraku's comment concerning house-elves.

Hermione looked at their new teacher with a mixture of admiration and happiness, Harry was suddenly afraid of her standing up and recruiting him for S.P.E.W.

Seemingly unaffected by the shifted atmosphere in the room, their new DADA teacher continued, "You have already mentioned – very correctly, I might add – the effect of their magic, however it is very little known about what exactly happens within the assaulted bodies nor is it common knowledge why chocolate has indeed a soothing effect. Acknowledged in Japan and slightly modified in some Eastern Asian countries is that Dementors have the ability to block the Ki in a very specific way that causes the body to respond with a reaction resembling the common cold."

Several hands went up causing Moraku to lift his hands in a calming motion: "I believe you want to know what Ki is: Ki is the force of life, its energy connecting mind, heart and body, basically it is the soul. By kissing their victims, Dementors steal their Ki."

The rest of the lesson was used to introduce the class to the Patronus Charm. When Moraku told them to take their wands and try to perform a silver streak, Harry couldn't help but feel curious at how the older wizard would take the fact that every Gryffindor was able to do this while some of them were even able to conjure a corporal Patronus.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Almost simultaneously the incantation was spoken, the room filled with the student's voices. Harry only moved his mouth trying to call the Patronus nonverbally. It was so easy, it almost scared him.

Although he tried to keep the strength of his spell down, his deer simply could not be overlooked. Thankfully, his friends remained rather collected unlike the first time he had performed the spell during a DA lesson. Malfoy's little gang gaped in disbelief.

Moraku looked at his class noticing how most of them performed the spell well. The simple fact that all were able to create silver mist at their first try was already impressive in itself. It was nearly impossible to believe how many of his students managed to create a more or less corporal form of their Patronus. He had noted Mr Potter only moving his lips for he had not heard the young wizard's voice. Hadn't he seen it by himself he wouldn't have believed that a sixteen-year-old would be able to nonverbally perform one of the purest of spells with such ease and power. He was deeply impressed, not only by Mr Potter's performance, but the performance of the class as a whole.

"Excellent. You have never learnt to defend yourselves from Dementors, at least not in class, but I simply do not believe that the majority of this class has performed this spell for the first time. Would anybody care to explain?"

"We learnt this in our Defence Club, Professor," Miss Granger replied promptly.

Albus had of course told him of the DA as it was called by Professors Flitwick and McGonagall. It seemed almost impossible, but somehow Mr. Potter had managed to not only master the spell but to give this knowledge to his peers.

This fact deeply impressed him.

Harry of course noticed that he was being watched by his new teacher and since he didn't want to be recognized as the odd one of the class already, he decided to dim his deer's glow hoping it would fade in the background.

He recalled the feeling of flying and that special sensation when parting through the mist. Unfortunately his attempt worked a little bit too well: within seconds the class room was soaked with white mist while every single corporal Patronus had dissolved. Harry murmured a Finite (the mist disappeared instantly) hoping Moraku hadn't noticed.

That hadn't exactly gone as planned.

His friends looked at each other a little confused and then looked from Moraku to Harry.

"Very impressive," the new professor said and Harry couldn't tell whether he meant the entire class or he had noticed who had caused the mist.

"I see that there are great disparities in this class, but I am confident that all of you are able to reach an evenly high level during the next few weeks." At that the bell rang.

He dismissed them, wishing a nice day and telling them he wouldn't give them any homework for today. Nevertheless, he alluded this would be the only time he would be doing this.

They all left their DADA lesson in a great mood, even Malfoy and his friends were unable to criticize anything more than chastising the wizard's lack of belief in the purity of blood.

Meanwhile, Professor Snape was in his office organizing the papers he had to grade. Since this wasn't exactly a task, which required his full attention he let his mind wander to his next class or to be more precise to the one student, whom he had despised not so many weeks ago.

When Snape had read the letters that had been handed in accidently (these days he was sure it had been unintentional), he had been confused. Later he had to realize just how wrong he had been about Potter. He had started to give the boy a chance trying hard to overlook the fact that the child was proof of him having lost Lily's love to James Potter. By doing so, he had seen the boy to be an intelligent student who seemed to have the desire to hide this as well as possible. Apart from this, the child was an excellent teacher, well-respected among his peers and reasonably talented if not downright powerful concerning his talents in mind magic.

Nevertheless, what had occurred in their lesson last week had given him an insight in the boy's life he had never thought possible underlining once more just how wrong he had been…

First of all there had been the discussion concerning the shields and Potter's talent in mind magic, which was downright frightening. He remembered the thoughtful and slightly puzzled look on the headmaster's face when he had told him that a sixteen-year-old had managed to enter his mind effortlessly, what others couldn't even by using all their power.

Then there had been Potter's unexpectedly cunning side, while trying to avoid a topic he didn't want to speak about. Hadn't the Sorting Hat confirmed Potter's words, he still would have been indecisive whether or not the boy had spoken the truth concerning the sorting. Ever since hearing it, he wondered what would have been different had Harry Potter indeed been sorted into Slytherin. He marvelled how they would have gotten along these last five years had he been under his care.

Two vastly different occurrences however had shaken the very foundation of Snape's inner balance:

The boy had been grossly neglected, abused even. Merely thinking about it caused his blood to boil. Lily's son had been treated terribly at his relative's house. Only minutes after having dismissed Potter he had confronted the headmaster about it, whose reaction had been quite terrifying.

"Headmaster, today I have found out something I think you should know about. Note however that I promised Potter not to say anything. But since this matter concerns his welfare I think you should know: Potter has been grossly neglected by his relatives."

Dumbledore only looked at him sadly, his expression disillusioned, "I know, Severus. He was raised in a harsh environment, was screamed at too many times and was shown too little love. I know it is only thanks to Harry's unique soul that instead of depriving himself of all love he practically indulged in it and instead of cowering at the sound of harsh words learned to be self-reliant. I've never meant him to learn all this at so young an age." He bowed his head and shook it slightly.

Seeing the headmaster in this state was alarming, and the Potions Master could only imagine what effect his following words would have on Dumbledore, "They didn't provide him a room, Albus. They kept him – or they still do, I wouldn't know – in a cupboard under the stairs."

He had expected the man to fall apart at the news- what he hadn't expected was the look of uncontained fury. With a loud shatter, the unbreakable windows of Hogwarts inside of the office exploded causing the younger man to jump back.

Suddenly reminding of ice, blue eyes searched the dark ones of his younger colleague. The older man's hands and facial expression were so calm; it frightened the Potions Master even more. He drew some steps back.

"What did you just say, Severus?" However, it was clear the question was rhetorical. There had been no misunderstanding. Slowly Dumbledore stood up, his eyes blazed angrily, in fact, the last time Snape had seen the former transfiguration teacher so furious had been another case of abuse he had brought to the headmaster's attention.

"I cannot believe this," Dumbledore said quietly, his words cutting through the tense air, "I knew his uncle was an insufferable, narrow-minded man, but I would have never thought that Petunia hated her sister so deeply that she would let this happen."

"It is true that she once might have loved her sister, Albus," Snape remembered the two girls playing with each other as if it had been yesterday, how surprised he had been to see that she, that beautiful, red-haired girl was indeed a witch, "but that vanished as soon as she hadn't been allowed to go to Hogwarts along with her."

At that he remembered the countless times he'd awkwardly tried to console his friend after a nasty fight with her older sister.

The Potions Master saw the anger shift in the man's eyes. He was furious with himself, "I was such a fool, such an arrogant supposedly all-knowing fool." It had been spoken so quietly, Snape was unsure to have heard this statement properly.

"He will not return to his relatives, whether they have now decided to provide him a room or not," Snape stated rather than asked, "He doesn't deserve this."

To his surprise he heard frustration in the older man's sharp voice, "Of course, he doesn't, Severus. Nobody does and he has gone through enough, but since his godfather is dead and he has no other living blood-relatives, it is not possible to give him another shelter without putting those involved in grave danger. You have now seen what kind of person Harry is. Do you truly believe he would ever agree to this?"

Snape pondered a moment, "We have a whole year, headmaster. We'll find a way."

It took him a moment to realize of him having used the word "we" instead of "you".

The other occurrence that had almost caused him to embrace the child had been the realization of the true nature of the boy's visions: Harry Potter was empathic; he felt other people's sentiments. The mere thought was enough to send a shiver down his spine. How, in Merlin's name, had the boy been able to stay sane these past few months?

There were few people whom he respected and even less he felt actual regard for, but Harry had managed the former if not the latter as well.

The headmaster must have had his suspicions since the news didn't shock him as much as the Potions Master had expected. To hear the confirmation however, had caused the man to lose what little sparkle had been left in his eyes.

When he had asked the older man what they should do, he received an answer he had not expected at all.

"I've tried to have Harry confide in me more than once, but he hasn't approached me," a wistful smile was on the wise wizard's face, "I cannot say that I blame him if you look at my mistakes of the past."

He then looked at Snape seriously, "But he opened up to you and before you contradict me, yes, you more or less found it out yourself, nevertheless he responded to your consolations. The only thing I can say is that you approach him without pressuring him."

That talk and the events taking place at their last Occlumency lesson were responsible why he’d completely ignored Potter during their following Potions lesson. Halloween had been the only time they’d actually held a conversation.

He was ashamed of the way he had once again been incapable of approaching Potter without chastising the boy. He still inwardly cringed thinking of his cold "You are late". Of course, Harry Potter wasn't fond of Halloween. This time of year was always the hardest for Snape as well.

It was strange how that Halloween evening bothered him since he hadn't even been at his worst.

For the last few weeks, whenever he reflected on his general behaviour towards Potter, he had started to feel uncomfortable at first, a sentiment that slowly morphed into guilt of a magnitude only comparable to the guilt he felt when reminded of his deeds as a faithful Death Eater slightly more than fifteen years ago.

He had always bragged about his refusal to hurt children while under the Dark Lord's commands. It had always soothed his shattered soul that, though committing terrible crimes as a Death Eater (whether as faithful follower or spy), he at least never hurt those weaker than him.

The more he thought about his behaviour towards Potter (or children like Neville Longbottom, but Potter most especially), he was deeply ashamed of himself. The worst thing was that he was now in a position, where he had no choice but to treat all his students that weren’t Slytherins as poorly as he had so far since everything else would promise instant death.

They were mere children, for Merlin's sake, Harry was not his father…

He then had realized that he was even worse a bully than James Potter - who at least had chosen to torment a contemporary, no matter how unfairly he had done so occasionally (by ganging up with his friends). Potter had always attacked someone who was in intellect and power on his level. Snape on the other hand had decided to attack a mere eleven-year-old. He was disgusted with himself, more than he had ever been before.

It should have been him writing a letter of apology, not Harry.

He heard his sixth years talking in front of the classroom door and walked towards it. Right before he opened the doors, he heard muffled voices.

"Moraku is interesting, isn't he?" Miss Midgen asked.

"He's impressive," Miss Bulstrode answered (obviously, Mr. Zabini was in need of an arithmetical mind), then asked, "What do you think?"

The question had been directed at Miss Granger.

"He is very well informed and seems to know a lot about magic in general. I was fascinated about his explanation on the Ki. I'll have to do research about this."

"I heard he is a Reiki," Miss Boot said.

"What's a Reiki?" this was the first time he heard Potter's voice.

"They are a special group of Japanese Healers, I don't know much about it, but I think it has a lot to do with this Ki he was talking about," Mr. Zabini answered, impressing his Head of House by displaying this rather obscure kind of knowledge though he shouldn't be surprised.

"How do you know?" Miss Midgen promptly asked.

"My mother is a healer working at St Mungo's," was the answer.

Having heard enough he opened the door.

It had been a month ever since they had started their projects and to be honest, he was intrigued. He was looking forward to their reports since he'd rarely had a class as promising as this one.

He had always been slightly wistful that the Weasley twins never attended to his NEWT class for though they were troublemakers, they had never bullied anybody and were reasonably smart having an impressive flair for Potions. Had they been in his NEWTs for the last two years, the quality of that class would have been comparable to this one.

Without truly greeting his students he told them to hand in their reports and focus back on their project.

While they did as he said, he sat down skimming through their papers.

The most common way to prepare the Mandrake root is to peel or slice it; however it is discussed that the chopping of the Mandrake root causes the restorative effect to be less uncomfortable.

Snape nodded at that, he had used that knowledge less than four years ago when brewing the potion to cure the petrified victims of the Basilisk.

Miss Midgen had created some sort of map: first, a descriptive report of her goals and the plan of how she intended to succeed, along with a report claiming what she'd found out so far. To his surprise there were some personal notes in the map.

I know what you mean, but Ernie is just like this. Give him a chance.

He cursed his talent to read rather fast and put down the note.

"Miss Midgen, could you please come forward," a little surprised she did as she was told. Only a second later, her face displayed a shade of red that would have made the Weasleys proud.

"I'll take them out," she whispered (squeaked more like) and took her map. Forcing himself to contain his amusement, he took Miss Boot's report and noticed that her process was different: her plan to process wasn't in her map anymore, however the introduction to her topic was already written out.

He would read this after his Occlumency lesson with Potter this evening.

Mr Malfoy had written down in detail of his successful experiments, but those that had failed were hardly or not at all mentioned. He wrote it down as a point of critique. Scientific work was supposed to be unbiased; the sooner Lucius' son knew that the better.

When he looked at Miss Granger's file he almost declared an upper limit, but decided in the end not to do it. It seemed as if she'd handed in her entire research instead of a report. He would read this when he found a calm hour to indulge in the interesting but demanding subject.

Mr Zabini's report on the other hand was short and to the point, explaining the arithmetic process to reach his goal and a rather philosophical approach to a potion's flow as introduction to his paper. If Mr. Zabini continued his work, he might be able to publish this in a scientific journal.

Mr Nott mostly did research and basically handed in a list of books he currently read, some of them being close to forbidden.

Ms. Parkinson's report was much more interesting to read than Mr Nott's. Her first topic was the common invisibility cloak whose fabric was dipped in a special potion called Latebrae. She also heard about the Japanese equivalent of the potion that was called Kage (shadow). Her report he read in the course of the lesson while he was sometimes interrupted by one of his students who'd ask questions.

Nearly at the end of their double lesson he found time to look at Harry's (Potter!) work: not unlike Miss Midgen he'd once again put in his plans, but unlike hers, it was a lot shorter looking almost like a timetable.

It seemed as if he would spend the first few months with research and later would start with experimental tests while one or two already seemed to have been planned in detail though there was no real recipe written down.

Carbon seemed to have fascinated Potter and Potions and Chemistry was part of his reading list. Some historic reading he seemed to be doing as well, especially ancient Egyptian protection wards were mentioned in his report (undoubtedly he had required some help from the eldest Weasley brother and cursebreaker to receive proper information).

The bell rung and Snape dismissed them putting the reports away, admittedly with reluctance, but he had to go for lunch if he wanted to eat anything before his first lesson in the afternoon.

He was almost at the Great Hall when Professor Aikokyushin was suddenly beside him coming from another way.

"Good day, Professor Snape," the older man said softly.

"Good day."

So far, the Potions Master had never had any difficulty with hating the Defense teachers, so why was it that these days – when it was a vital necessity for him to dislike them – a new teacher had to arrive whose presence he could actually stand?

He'd never thought to see the day he'd wish Gilderoy Lockhart back in the staff. All he could do was holding a certain distance to that man. His demeanour didn't seem to aggravate the healer (he indeed was one of the few magical Reiki walking this earth); it was more the contrary actually. The man seemed to prefer reserved people and they had held some very interesting conversations concerning magic and potions (the man was no Potions Master, but his knowledge was quite impressive). By now, Snape had given up on being openly hostile. It wouldn't have been a convincing act.

Instead, he had decided to remain distant but polite thus claiming to gain useful information for the Dark Lord (should one of his very talkative Snakes slip the knowledge to his ‘Master’).

The problem he now had was to actually remain distanced.

It was very refreshing to have a smart conversation with someone other than Albus, Minerva or Filius and the man's own rather reserved demeanour automatically required certain openness on his part.

"Have you had any interesting classes so far?" it was a rhetorical question since Snape was quite sure the new Defense teacher was attentive enough to see the potential in his and Minerva's Sixth Years.

"Very," he replied and opened the door to the Great Hall, "I was quite impressed, I must admit. Some are exceptionally well informed, others are remarkably talented. Or both."

"Anybody in particular?" Snape couldn't help but feel a little curious how an outsider viewed Harry Potter. Despite being famous across the borders of Great Britain, the son of the Potters wasn't as popular in the world in general as he as in Europe. Even if he were, Professor Aikokyushin seemed to be a man that didn't listen to mere gossip or that would worship someone without reason.

"I think you already know the answer, Professor Snape." He had to contain a smirk.

It truly was refreshing to speak to someone who challenged him and wouldn't accept anything else but him displaying his full intelligence and logic.