A Muggle in Wizard's Clothing

By clare009

Disclaimer: Harry Potter's universe and all it contains is the brainchild and property of JK Rowlings. No infringement or disrespect is intended.

Rating: PG13

Genre: A Severus Snape fic. romance/humour/drama/action/adventure...

Note: I have decided to combine all three parts already written into one story as this is going to be longer then the original piece of fluff I intended to write. My OC is not intended to be a representation of myself, although we are alike in some ways (that can't be helped - a writer always notices her own traits in the characters she writes) this is not a gratuitous Mary Sue. The original story raised a lot of questions which I intend to answer...

A special mention here to my beta at sugarquill, Yolanda. Your help has been invaluable.

Chapter 1: The Substitute

Summary: Professor Snape is put out that Dumbledore didn't ask him to cover Professor Moody's class in his absence. But who is the teacher that's been hired instead and why does she seem to have the headmaster wrapped around her finger?

"What's got into him?" Hermione leaned over and whispered to the boys.

Ron frowned. "What do you mean? He's always like this."

She shook her head. "Well, yes... but he seems to be even more sour today than usual."

"Shhhh!" Harry said urgently, waving Hermione back to her cauldron. "He's coming this way..."

"Potter!" Barked the Voice from somewhere over his head, and Harry groaned. "Ten points from Gryffindor and if you talk in my class again... detention with Filch will be too good for you." Snape's lip curled in habitual disgust but there was no angry spark in his eyes - just a dull weariness.

Hermione threw an apologetic glance at Harry.

Snape stalked between the cauldrons for the rest of the lesson. He was particularly closed-mouth, only uttering a sibilant rebuke whenever a major infraction of his classroom code of ethics was noticed. His brows hung heavily over his eyes and the corners of his mouth were constantly turned down, giving the impression not of the usual disdain, but of a sulky dissatisfaction. He didn't even rise to the occasion and praise a Slytherin who had somehow managed to get the mixture right.

"He was definitely in a bad mood," Hermione said as they thankfully escaped the potion master's stifling class.

Ron was still not convinced. "How can you tell? He's always in a bad mood. I don't think I've ever seen him in a good one."

"Same here," Harry added to support his friend.

"When he caught you talking, Harry, he didn't even take the opportunity to insult you - and Snape always enjoys making up creative ways to insult you."

Harry glared at her. It was no secret that Snape hated him almost passionately and seemed to take perverse pleasure in going out of his way to make Harry's life a misery.

When they reached the Defence Against Dark Arts lesson, the reason for Snape's disgruntled air was made clearer - their usual teacher, Professor Moody, was not there. Instead, a young woman with a wealth of red hair and sparkling eyes bid them to enter the class.

The three looked at each other in surprise.

The young woman was dressed in robes of velvet green, which seemed almost garish. A daisy was tucked behind her ear, her bare feet peeked shockingly out from under her skirts. She waited for the surprised students to shuffle in, then she walked purposefully to stand in front of Moody's imposing desk. With a smile, she looked at each one of the Hogwarts students in turn, her eyes penetrating and appraising. Some of the students, most notably Draco Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins, almost shrank under her forthright gaze. But Harry felt uplifted by it, and quite forgot about Snape. He decided that whoever she was and however she dressed, he liked her already.

Ron blushed a deep crimson when the red-haired woman looked at him, which caused Hermione to roll her eyes, but when the frank eyes moved to stare at her, she, too, turned a deep scarlet.

When she had completed her visual assessment of the class, she cleared her throat delicately and said, "Greetings Hogwarts students, my name is Miss Goldfind and you are probably wondering where your Professor Moody is." She smiled beautifully again and immediately, even though Harry wasn't worried about the Professor, he felt reassured. "The Professor has had to take some time off to see to urgent business," her tone indicated that this 'business' was nothing to be anxious about, "and your lovely headmaster has seen fit to appoint me as your substitute teacher for the next few weeks."

Hermione shot a glance at Ron and Harry, as if to say, 'so now we know why Snape was in such a foul mood'.

It was true that Snape coveted the job of Defence Against Dark Arts teacher, and as such, must have been extremely irritated that Professor Dumbledore hired an outsider to teach the class while Professor Moody was away.

Miss Goldfind was the complete opposite to Professor Moody, not only in looks and manner, but in teaching methods too. Although the professor's lessons were usually highly entertaining, one was always left with a feeling that the war between good and evil was about to break out in the corridors. You were repeatedly caught off guard by abrupt outbursts of 'Constant Vigilance!' - which caused more nervousness than it did watchfulness. Rather, Miss Goldfind was gentle and light-hearted, but with a steady underlying determination that made listening to her compelling. She told ancient stories of heroic battles against the dark, which almost lifted the class into another time. Back then the forces of good and evil were far more elemental and wizards and Muggles worked together to hold the night away.

Leaving Miss Goldfind's lesson, Harry, Ron and Hermione felt that they were full of hope, rather than dread, and the task of making a stand against the Dark Lord, seemed to be a little less daunting than before.

"She's lovely!" said Hermione as they made their way back to the Gryffindor tower.

"She's just your type, Muggle-lover," the irritating voice of Malfoy called after them. He could never resist taking a shot at Hermione - especially since she was a from a Muggle family and as everyone knew, Malfoys hated muggles or anything to do with them.

"Just ignore him," Ron urged, seeing the dangerous flash in Hermione's eyes. His hand on her elbow only served to anger her and she shook it off and turned to face Malfoy.

"You heard what she said in there - we need to work with muggles to fight You Know Who!"

Malfoy spat. "If that's the case, then I would rather fight with You Know Who. All you Muggles and Muggle-lovers deserve what's coming to you."

Harry inched forward, he didn't particularly want a confrontation with Malfoy in the corridor, but the Slytherin was definitely getting on his nerves. "Careful what you wish for," he said in a low voice.

"Tell that to the clueless substitute, Potter. What's she going to do when You Know Who is standing in front of her? Give him a history lesson? She won't be able to do much else without a wand."

"Without a wand?" Ron frowned.

Malfoy laughed harshly. "You were too busy slobbering to notice didn't have one. Dumbledore's going to hear about this one - hiring a squib is going too far."

"Of course she had a wand," Harry stepped closer.

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder and whispered quietly, "Uhm, no, Harry, she didn't..."

Laughing again, Malfoy, with his cronies in tow, swaggered past them leaving the boys in shock.

"She can't be... " said Ron, dejectedly.

"Yeah, maybe she was just hiding it..." Harry added.

"So what if she is a squib!" Hermione told them off. "A moment ago you were both completely mesmerised by her, don't tell me your opinions have changed just because she can't do magic?"

"But Hermione...," Ron said, "It's not the same! A Defence Against Dark Arts teacher should, uhm, be able to defend herself..."

"I hate to say this," said Harry, "But Malfoy's right. If Voldemort where here, she wouldn't stand a chance."

Hermione was not convinced. "Magic is a poor substitute for brains, and I believe she has those in abundance. She probably has plenty of other tricks up her sleeve. I mean, everyone knows you don't have to be a witch to use magic."

"It's still not the same," muttered Ron, who was obviously disappointed.

"Gibberish," said Hermione as they came to the Gryffindor tower entrance. The Fat Lady parted ways to let them in at the code word.

***

On the other side of Hogwarts, Miss Goldfind dutifully presented herself to the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. She smiled as the old man leaned down and kissed her affectionately on the cheek.

"My dear Lilian," he said. "How did your first lesson with the fifth years go?"

Lilian Goldfind's smile now vanished and was replaced by an earnest look. She returned Dumbledore's affection by patting his cheek but said, "I think it went okay. Although I can tell I am going to have trouble with that Malfoy boy and his gang, Grandfather," she said. "He is so obviously a Muggle hater, and he's far too intelligent for my liking. Hatred and intelligence is a bad mixture."

"You'll do fine, my dear. I have complete faith in you, as always. Leave Draco to me, however. I know how to deal with him." His eyes twinkled. "There is another matter which you need to be cautious about..."

"I know, Grandfather," Lilian said with a sigh. "And don't worry, I won't tell anyone - unless they ask me directly - in which case I will have to tell the truth."

Dumbledore cocked his head. "Of course, you must always tell the truth. But that's not what I was referring too. I was speaking about Severus."

Lilian's delicate eyebrow arched. "Professor Snape? What about him? I know that you trust him and that is enough for me."

"Severus is... Let's just say that he is a sensitive man, although he would rather die than admit it - poor boy. He feels rather put out that I didn't ask him to cover for Moody and I don't want to aggravate the situation. I would appreciate it if you didn't rile him up." Dumbledore grinned.

Lilian let loose a light-hearted laugh. "You know me too well! Professor Snape is exactly the type of person I like to tease - he is far too serious. But, I will do as you wish and restrain myself." She cocked her head to one side in imitation of her Grandfather. "Why didn't you ask him to take the class?"

Dumbledore winked, "I have my reasons, missy. Now don't you have lessons to prepare?"

"Of course." Lilian grinned, then on impulse leaned up and returned the old man's kiss. She knew that some people, like the Malfoy boy's parents no doubt, thought her grandfather was a fool, but Dumbledore was the most wise and resolute man she had ever known. In her opinion, every other man she had met could never quite compare to her grandfather. "I'll see you in the dining hall later."

Leaving Dumbledore's office with thoughts of how to entertain the rowdy second year students that afternoon, Lilian walked straight into a wall of black. The wall gave a low growl, then stepped back and surveyed her with irritation.

"Excuse me, Professor Snape," Lilian said cheerfully, while rubbing her nose, "I didn't quite see you there."

"Obviously," he said, irked. "You don't seem to be very ... vigilant."

She looked up at him with innocent, wide eyes. "Is that a comment on my ability to teach Professor Moody's class?"

"Well, at least you can pick up on what's painfully clear." His dark eyes narrowed and Lilian could tell that he was about to dismiss her like he did most of his students, but despite her Grandfather's request, she couldn't help but raise her eyebrow.

"Perhaps you can help me with the not so painfully clear, Professor Snape," she said wickedly, "Why is it that Professor Dumbledore hired me to teach Professor Moody's classes instead of asking you to do it?"

Snape's eyes flashed and colour bloomed in his usually pale cheeks. Lilian could tell her words had found their mark. She felt slightly guilty at not being able to control her tongue, but she remained standing resolutely in front of the shaking Snape.

"Perhaps," Snape said through gritted teeth, "you've woven a spell of enchantment around him, Miss Goldfind. I, however, can see right through you. You will not captivate me with your alluring spells. And see if I don't convince Dumbledore of how dangerous you really are!"

Snape whipped past her, his head held high and his jaw still locked in strange determination, leaving Lilian to stare, gaping, after him. Then she started to laugh at the irony of his words - a bright, silvery sound, which caused Snape's head to twitch.

Lilian shook her head as he disappeared down the corridor. I couldn't weave a bewitching spell if I tried, she thought. Snape, however, didn't know that. Suddenly, a mischievous idea began to form in her mind, one which she had no doubt her grandfather would disapprove of, but which would take her mind of certain other things during her next few weeks at Hogwarts.

***

Snape's mood had not improved by dinnertime. His suggestion that the substitute teacher, Miss Goldfind, had cast a spell of enchantment over Dumbledore had only made the old man smile at him. Dumbledore had assured Snape that it wasn't the case and that he trusted Lilian as much as he trusted Snape himself. The Potions Master wasn't quite satisfied by this; he was still certain that Miss Goldfind was up to something. Why else would he feel compelled to stare at her whenever she was in the same room as he?

He was in such a black frame of mind that he considered skipping the evening meal altogether, but then he realised that Miss Goldfind would probably count that as a small victory, and he certainly didn't want to give her the satisfaction.

He strode into the hall and up to the teacher's table with the same perpetual frown he had had on his face for years, and found, with relief, that Miss Goldfind was not there. She had obviously been disturbed that he had discovered her true nature and had seen fit to stay away. His lips curled up with a slight hint of a smile and he took his place to wait for the Headmaster to enter.

Snape was in the process of levelling an indulgent look at the Slytherin table, when they all stood as Dumbledore entered the hall. His jaw inadvertently hit the ground, because arm in arm with the headmaster was Miss Goldfind herself. She was smiling and laughing as usual and Dumbledore seemed to be unnaturally taken with her.

Clutching the side of the table, Snape forced himself to keep his piqued emotions internalised. How dare the trollop influence Dumbledore like that! At that moment, Miss Goldfind turned her irresistible gaze on him and had the gall to wink.

Suddenly, he found it hard to concentrate as an unfamiliar sensation wrapped itself around his limbs. He had to grip the table more tightly to keep his hands from shaking and McGonagall, who was standing to his right, turned to stare at him as Snape kept muttering to himself, "Must resist... must resist..."

Dumbledore patted Miss Goldfind's arm and parted ways with her as he moved to the centre of the staff table. "Please be seated, everyone." He intoned and the shuffling and scraping of chairs followed suit.

Snape, relieved that Dumbledore was rid of the unbearable Miss Goldfind, sank back into his chair with a sigh.

"Good Evening, Severus - mind if I call you Severus? It's such a sibilant name - slides off the tongue so easily..."

It was her! The Enchantress! She was casually taking her seat next to him on the left and for a few minutes all Snape could do was stare.

"I see you've lost yours, though..." she continued after a penetrating look at him.

"Indeed, I have not, Miss Goldfind. I would rather keep my remarks to myself. And I would prefer it if you did not talk to me." Snape managed to get the words out.

The Enchantress raised her eyebrow at him in the most enticing way. Her eyes sparkled and hinted at untold depth and her mouth twitched in the corners as if she was silently laughing at him. Softly, she said, "As you wish, Severus, from now on, I shall not say another word to you."

Snape narrowed his eyes at her, then turned away pointedly, showing her his back. She would see that her spells would not work on him at all, not only because he was resolute in his determination to overcome her tempting wiles, but because after his interview with Dumbledore, he had gone back to his study and brewed up several anti-bewitching potions which he had promptly drank. She was good at her art though, he had to give her that. He found that although he wasn't looking at her, he could still sense exactly where she was behind him. The heat that came from her body was a tangible thing that pricked at his exposed skin and produced wicked sensations. He longed to turn and let his eyes linger over her... to lift his hand and dip his long fingers into her hair... lean forward, rest his cheek against hers... touch his lips to hers...

Snape almost bolted out of his chair at the image that his mind produced. He turned to look at her again and found that she was still staring back at him. In all likelihood, she had never taken her eyes off him at all.

"Will you stop doing that," he said through clenched teeth.

Miss Goldfind merely arched her eyebrow.

"Stop looking at me! Stop haunting me with your eyes! Stop bewitching me with your mouth! Stop enchanting me with your ... your ... Stop, stop, STOP!"

McGonagall turned from her conversation with Dumbledore. "Are you quite well, Professor Snape?" she asked politely

Snape was almost blue with frustration and could hardly mutter another phrase. Miss Goldfind took the opportunity to lean over him, which made her robe accidentally dip to reveal a generous amount of cleavage and replied, "He's perfectly fine, Professor McGonagall, he just bit off a tad more than he could chew."

At the words, Snape sprang up. The wretched woman was enjoying herself at his expense, but he would not give her that pleasure any longer. "If you will excuse me, I have something urgent to attend to," he said stonily, then strode as quickly as he could out the hall without actually breaking into a run.

***

Many eyes followed Snape's exit, including Lilian who was trying her best to hide a victory smile behind her hand.

Dumbledore, however, did not share her amusement. "Lilian," he said softly. "That was very badly done."

She looked past Professor McGonagall at her grandfather and her heart lurched. What have I done? She thought. Lilian hated to disappoint her grandfather - it always made her feel like she had lost his respect - and because of what she was, or rather what she wasn't, it hurt her terribly. But, he was right. She had just humiliated a man in front of his peers and his students and that was a wretched thing to do. Lilian let her eyes plead with her grandfather to forgive her, but he shook his head and turned away.

She would have to apologise to Snape, there was nothing else that would redeem her in his eyes. The thought was loathsome - Snape hadn't exactly given her the best of receptions - being cold and haughty when Dumbledore had first introduced them and then accusing her of using Magic to manipulate the headmaster's affections. But, her grandfather would expect it of her.

After the evening meal had concluded and after she had consulted several students about where Snape actually hid himself after hours, Lilian wondered down to the dungeons where the potion master's study and rooms were.

Hogwart's dungeons where cold and damp, like dungeons anywhere, but they seemed to be particularly dark and sinister as well. Lilian regretted not having shoes on, for once in her life, and shivered. She managed to find the door with the help of an old fashioned lantern and knocked on it. The sound echoed down the passage and came back to haunt her.

There was no answer from inside, so she knocked again. The only other noise, apart from the echoes, seemed to come from the chattering of rats and Lilian began to move nervously from one foot to another. Just as she was about to give up and leave for a warmer floor, the door creaked open and a dark eye stared through the crack.

"What?" Came Snape's terse voice. "Oh, it's you," he muttered, then started to close the door, but Lilian stuck her hand through the crack.

"Please, I want to apologise," she said.

"Why?"

Lilian wracked her brains for a suitable answer. "Because I shouldn't have humiliated you like that."

Snape snorted and began to close the door again.

"Wait! The truth is that I don't want Professor Dumbledore to feel I let him down." Lilian held her breath.

The door swung open without a sound and Snape stood there, a haunted look in his eyes. In that small moment, Lilian felt her heart lurch. He looked like a lost and ill little boy who needed affection and kindness lavished on him.

"I'm sorry," she said gently.

He nodded abruptly, his expression guarded once again, then he turned on his heel and was swallowed into the darkness of his study.

"May... May I come in?" Lilian asked as she tentatively put a foot over the threshold.

"You're going to anyway, so why bother asking?" She heard him say from the shadows. His voice had taken on the quality of resignation.

"I was just being polite," she sniffed.

"That's the last word I would use to describe you," he said softly. His voice wasn't antagonistic, on the contrary, she thought she detected... reverence?

She sighed. "I really haven't used an enchantment spell on you." Looking around, she tried to pierce the darkness and discover where Snape had retreated to, but the flame of her lantern seemed to have shrunk into a minuscule dot that gave no light.

"Oh, but you have..." She could hear every letter he spoke enunciated with meaning.

Turning to where his voice was coming from, she moved further in and stumbled on a piece of furniture. "Damn! Don't you use candles in here?"

Suddenly, a breeze flowed unnaturally through the room and her lantern was snuffed out all together. "What need does a wizard have for light?"

Lilian drew in a breath, then said. "I'm not a wizard."

She hadn't meant to tell him, not at all. In fact, Snape was the last person she would have confessed her secret to. The only other person at Hogwarts that knew the real truth was her grandfather, and it was in his best interests not to spread the news around either. She knew, however, that her admission was no slip of the tongue that she could berate herself for. It was his look of dejection at the door that had prompted her now to make him her confessor.

The effect of her words was not unexpected. Snape was completely silent.

Lilian drew her arms around her and shivered in the blackness. She waited for him to say something, anything to acknowledge what she had just said, but the silent minutes dragged out until she was not longer certain that he hadn't Apparated directly out of the room to confront Dumbledore.

Sighing quietly to herself, Lilian decided to leave and let the consequences of what she had told Snape play out as they would.

Before she could turn around, a smooth voice spoke so close to her that she jumped, "That's impossible." Lilian's heart began to pound as she realised that Snape was standing inches from her, even though she couldn't see him in the dark. She had no words to answer him with, but it did not seem as though he expected them, because he continued, "Why else would I want to do this... "

Snape's light fingers were now curling around a strand of her hair. She could feel him unravel it and slide it between his fingers, testing its weight and texture. Next his hand was on the curve of her neck and it was unexpectedly warm. He dragged it down her jaw line, feeling the skin and producing an unnamed ache that formed in her throat and travelled down to her stomach.

He was so close to her now that she could feel hot, even breath on her face. He spoke again and his voice was rough velvet, "What else would make me..."

His lips were on hers. He did not invade her, but tentatively covered her mouth with his own as if asking permission. But at his touch, unexpected fire billowed inside her and Lilian gave Snape more than just permission to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled her body against him, giving herself fully over to his mouth and his caresses.

When they pulled apart, both took deep, gasping breaths. "Illuminatum," Snape murmured, and the room was filled with a soft, amber light, created from dozens of candles. "Who are you?"

For the first time she could properly see his shadowed face. Snape's eyes were wide and dark - but they told her nothing of what he was thinking. "I am not a wizard," she repeated her earlier words, wondering how her lips had become swollen and her skin flushed and glowing. He remained silent, so she explained, "My father was a Muggle and my mother had no talent, even though her father was a wizard. So you could say I am a Muggle like my father..."

"Why?" His arms were still around her.

Lilian was confused. "Why am I a Muggle?"

"No. Why are you here, at Hogwarts?" He looked stern as he asked it, but she thought there was a fleeting smile, which played around his mouth.

"Well, Dumbledore--"

"...is more wise than a lot of people give him credit for." This time Snape did smile and it changed everything about him. Lilian found her heart pounding once more.

"How so?" she attempted to say lightly.

Snape pulled her towards him again and rested his chin on top of her hair. She felt a sigh wash through his body out of relief. "He knew exactly how much I would need you."