ToMoRrow

"You're probably the first person to look at those since I put them there."

"Well, perhaps if you dusted them occasionally, students would give them a look," Octavia replied.

"The layers of dust aren't going to come off easily," said Snape, grading the last of the papers on his desk. "Most students are afraid of those anyways."

Octavia gave the shelved jars of pickled organs and small creatures another look before turning to face Snape. "It's a shame, really. Perhaps next time I assign detention to someone, I'll have them come over here to start cleaning these. It would be much better than having them waste time writing lines."

"Indeed. We should be going for now though; the match will be starting soon." Octavia followed Snape out of the castle. He had particular interest in this match, not only because it was the first of the year, but because it was Slytherin versus Gryffindor. The few other professors still not in the stands greeted the pair politely but reservedly.

In the few weeks that had passed, Octavia had done little to become a well-liked professor of the school. Though there were no more incidents like that first day with the fire, the students were naturally afraid of the dungeons, and professors were not appreciative of her grading style. Some of the best students in the school had argued with her when they got their first papers back, and some still argued with her. Octavia had explained the grading policies to her classes clearly. If they weren't so dimwitted, they would have been able to understand them and do what was necessary to get a passing grade.

Snape led her into the stands, quickly finding a space more than large enough for the two of them. The match had just begun, and students were cheering loudly, many shouts muffled by their layers of sweaters and scarves. "It seems early for it to be snowing already," Octavia observed. She was used to the cold, but even at home it rarely snowed before November.

"It is early. We can only hope this come to our advantage, since the Slytherins spend more time with the chill of the dungeons," Snape replied. He began pointing out and naming the players for Octavia's benefit. She ad encounters with many of them, some more favorably than others.

"Potter and Weasley are among the few who seem to want to fail my class," Octavia noted when Snape finished. "They continue to copy their papers from another friend who thinks she knows everything."

"Yes, Ms Granger. Minerva was quite upset when she heard that her prize student was given a failing grade on her first paper. Few could believe it happened." Octavia could hear his disdain for the trio in his voice. "She spends too much time with Potter and Weasley for her own good. They have a particular knack for getting into trouble."

"So I've heard. How is it that they haven't gotten themselves expelled?"

"Albus pulls strings as he always does to save them. At times he even goes so far as to reward them for their meddlesome ways."

Octavia watched as Potter and Malfoy circled above the stadium, watching one another as much as they watched for the Golden Snitch. "What about Malfoy? He seems intelligent enough, though he rarely shows up for class and has yet to earn a passing grade on his papers."

Snape looked her her. "He has his moments of intelligence. But he is distracted this year. I'll speak with him about making it to class."

The pair fell into a comfortable silence as the Quidditch match continued, Slytherin in the lead. Octavia cast a silent spell around them, creating an invisible bubble of warmth.

"How far does it extend?" Snape asked, looking at her appreciatively.

"Not far at all," she replied, noting his silent thanks.

All around them, everyone was huddled together for warmth, or bundled up so much you could barely see a person beneath the layers of clothing. Not one of them noticed that though Snape and Octavia were not huddled for warmth, she was leaning against him, his hand covering hers, fingers laced together.