The Professor and His Pint-Sized Shadow | By : SeverelySnaped Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 9792 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer: This is my response to the WIKTT Adoption Challenge. All flowers and backstage passes can be directed to the fabulous J.K. Rowling, who is probably reading this and trying very hard not to hurl.
The Professor and His Pint-Sized Shadow
Chapter One: The Ministry is Insane
It was early October and the castle was eerily quiet. Very quiet compared to the year before when the excitement of the Autumn season and approaching holidays would have most students chattering nonstop. But with a new fall term and the aftermath of war, there was little time or mood for celebrations of any kind.
The loss of life in the previous months had been significantly higher than any of them could have imagined. Children from both parental heritages were left scarred in one way or another, whether the lost of a relative or the unfolding of events at a pace so rapid, most of them barely had time to register the meaning of being truly terrified. The death statistics of children in the war was low, granted---most parents with enough common sense saw to it that they were sent off or hidden away where no one could find them.
However, once the squirrels hide away their treasure and winter takes over, the underlying hardship is very real. Many children were left orphaned, those who didn’t have at least one parent still clinging to life at St. Mungo’s or elsewhere. The war was probably the hardest on the children of muggleborn and mixed descent, for many of them lost both parents, full stop. The older children had braced themselves for this months in advance, but it was the little ones who were left confused and crying.
Didn’t their mothers and fathers tell them all would be well and to stay put until all of this was over? Didn’t they promise to come back? Where were they NOW and why won’t anyone answer their questions?
The last thing most of them heard was to be good and that they were loved. “Be a good boy, Seth…we’ll fetch you shortly…” “Don’t give Gran a hard time, Lila…and don’t eat too many sweets…”
It was all the same.
“We’ll be back before you know it.”
“We love you.”
“Close your eyes and count to ten and soon all will be well again…”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Despite the quiet demeanor in the castle, there was still work to be done, and plenty of it. Today had been surprisingly warm for October and many were loosening their ties once classes had let out for the day. For most, focusing on schoolwork had taken a precedent over everything, and for once, most students were passing with flying colours. But it brought little solace. What was once a burden for most students was now a welcome relief from the plaguing thoughts of the horrific events that took place.
The great Harry Potter was as close to dead, still not having gained consciousness and the outlook was grim.
All of the years of hope and promises now seemed like a vast lie when compared to every heartened speech and pep talk given over the last few years. No one was interested in gossip or jokes or games. It was at that stage where it just didn’t matter anymore.
The teachers were trying their best to keep the students at ease with the usual routine and no special treatment, but it was getting to the point that something had to be done. There were talks of possible group therapy discussions during the staff meetings, or shorter work schedules. Maybe a shorter school week entirely. But aside from the group therapy suggestion, none of them could agree on a method of rehabilitation. It was at another one of these staff meetings where any debate over any of the topics, although none of it hostile for a change, were all interrupted by the headmaster.
“Give it time,” Professor Dumbledore nodded. “For the time being we will forge ahead with the group discussions and see how the students far with those. If and when another method of healing proves to be a more effective, we will try that as well.”
He merely inclined his head when his words were met with agreeable silence and moved onto another topic that most were unaware of.
“As many of you already know, the loss of life due to the war has been far greater than any of us could have imagined. This hardship is felt by all of us, yes…but again is also felt in an economical sense as well.” A few of the teachers straightened up to pay more attention while others looked at the old wizard with confused looks on their faces as he continued, “The Ministry Council has been working day and night trying to get the thousands of affairs and problems this war has caused and has always welcomed any outside assistance in any form possible.”
His tone of voice, now only slightly changed, still told the Hogwarts staff sitting before him that there was more to the story.
“However,” he paused, “there are times when the Ministry has to write up new laws to fit the current conditions.”
Now the staff really didn’t like the man sitting before them, for having the nerve to act so calm when it was obvious there was hidden meaning and subtle warning with just about everything he said lately. Some of them shifted nervously in their seats, and others were feeling that slow, unwelcome feeling of dread rise up ever so slowly.
A loud clearing of the throat and all attention was cast in another direction.
Professor McGonagall “Albus, what have they…”
“All in good time, Minerva.” the wizard cut in before being interrupted again.
“Don’t give me that, old man!” she shrilled, before speaking in a lower tone. “The last thing we need is sugar-coating on the poison. Out with it!”
Dumbledore couldn’t help but to halfway smile at her pushy behavior this evening. It was typical of Minerva and he was glad some things hadn’t changed.
“As you wish, Minerva.” he conceded. He paused again, looking about the room and when it looked as if the staff would choke him for the suspense alone, he continued.
“The war has left nothing but carnage in it’s wake, but it has left orphans, too. Many children have lost parents or relatives or both.”
“Oh, so they are imposing a new tax to help the war orphans?” one staff member breathed with a sigh of relief, glad that it wasn’t anything too terrible. “They need funding for the Ministry’s Children Foundation,“ another piped in. The others nodded their heads, seeing as this was a totally reasonable assumption. After all, the housing for orphans at these facilities would need extra donations at this point.
However, their brief moments of self-assured contentment were once again dispelled when Albus simply said, “Not quite.” He straightened his spectacles. “The orphanages, both Ministry-run and otherwise, will need more than just funding. They will need extra staff. And that is just something that cannot be attained at this point.”
More confused looks filled the room as the headmaster elaborated. “The Ministry, as we have discussed beforehand, is severely understaffed themselves, as are most of the businesses and schools in our society. All have suffered, and all are doing their best to rebuild what is left of our crumbled empire. Spare hands is a luxury we do not have. Where corners can be cut, they will be cut. Make no bones about it, and there will be several more Ministry changes as the year progresses. We can be sure of that.”
“But changes have to be made right now. So, ladies and gentlemen, to make a long story short,” Dumbledore went on, choosing to ignore the several snorts that comment landed him, “the Ministry is requiring every man, woman or couple over the age of twenty who are not attending a University in academic pursuit to adopt a child if they don’t have at least two children of their own already.”
The noise that followed could only be considered chaos compared with the relatively tame silence that preceded it.
“Where will we find the time?” one voice called out.
Some were shaking their heads. “Aren’t I a bit too old for this?”
“I don’t know…I’ve never even considered children, before.”
“I just got finished raising my own children…”
There was only one person at the meeting who said nothing, but his cold stare was aimed directly at the headmaster, and for once, he agreed with the phrase of ‘kill the messenger.’ His hands, however, were gripping the edges of his chair so tight the wood felt as if it were beginning to splinter.
“Now, now..” Albus continued, “I know this is extremely sudden and everyone has concerns with the issue at hand, but the law had already been put into effect. The only other exemption besides University is those over the age of eighty, for which I barely qualify. But for once, I am siding with the Ministry on this one. We have to start re-building now, and must do whatever we can to help. Sacrifices must be made.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Albus…you won’t have to adopt!” Minerva all but shouted.
“That is where you are wrong, my dear.” he smiled, and she bristled. “I have thought about the matter a good bit, and I too, have decided to take in an orphaned child.”
The whole room went silent at that, knowing the matter was settled whether they liked it or not. Most of them barely paid attention to the rest of the meeting as their heads were now filled with “What am I going to do?” When the meeting ended, most made their hasty exits and more than a few indulged in a good glass of wine or fire whiskey.
One man stayed in his seat, his black eyes still affixed on the headmaster, like a viper ready to strike.
“Don’t even say it, my boy.” Albus said, not even looking up from his parchment from which he was now reading. “There’s nothing anyone can do about it. It’s in the Ministry’s hands now.”
“I can’t take in a child.” the statement was soft but lined with desperation.
“You have to. We all have to.”
“I wouldn’t know the first thing to do with a child, Albus!” the man said, a good deal louder, and sounding more and more lost each second.
“Severus…”
“I can’t. I’ve never wanted children…hell, I don’t even like them! The Ministry will just have to make a few more exceptions, I’m afraid.”
“Severus… Arthur and I have discussed every possible avenue…”
“Well he’s not worried because he has seven kids of his own!” the potions master cried, angry at the injustice of it all.
“And he is also taking in another child, just like the rest of us, regardless.” He sat there watching the troubled man stare at the floor, and even though he promised himself he wouldn’t, he felt sorry for him. He knew that Professor Snape’s own parents were sorely off the mark when it came to love and affection, especially his father. He had watched the isolated, angry boy who was wary of everything and everyone grow into an equally isolated and angry man.
There were times when something would come close in getting through the emotional guards that he kept up at all times, but before long he would turn back into his normal loathing, cold self. He was angry at the world and couldn’t find solace in the usual things most wizards and witches his age seemed to enjoy.
The old man sighed. “I will help you, you know. It’s not like you are being forced to do this alone, Severus.” The other man said nothing, just staring at the floor again, almost as still as a statue save for the few muscles jumping in his jaw. “Changes are being made in the castle already to accommodate the children those of us on the staff do take in. Child care services will be provided, and activity groups set up.”
“Those children probably won’t even realize how lucky they are to even stepping foot inside this castle.”
“Those children just lost their parents and just about everybody else they have ever loved, Severus.” Albus cut in a bit sharper than usual, but choosing to ignore Snape’s snobbish tones. He knew he was only saying that because he was now extremely worried. “I would hardly call them lucky.”
Professor Snape straightened in his seat, his eyes now filled with a touch of compassion. It was true that there were now survivors of the war who were suffering just as much now as he had during. But compassion aside, he still could not fathom the time and responsibility that would be required to give to a child, now matter how unfortunate.
His thoughts were interrupted by the headmaster. “I am going down to one of the orphanages tomorrow morning. I suggest you come with me, if nothing else, just to have a look around. Since it is Wednesday and you don’t have any classes until after ten, there won’t be too many people scouting around at the orphanages until later in the afternoon. You won’t have a large crowd to contend with.”
Albus knew his words were hitting their intended mark and Severus swallowed, slowly nodding his head but very much wanting to throw up every last bit of his dinner on the headmaster’s floor. He slowly rose up when the old man merely told him to get some rest and walked back to his rooms in silence, the only sound being his footsteps and the flickering fire from the lighted torches up on the walls.
He did, as suggested, go straight to bed. But when he did finally manage to fall asleep, it was very restless and filled with every unwanted image imaginable.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The next morning came entirely too fast for the irritated potions professor, and it was with a heavy heart and tired frame that found him slowly getting up and about. He washed up and dressed slowly before quickly taking in two cups of coffee, both spiked with a ‘pick-me-up’ of his own concoction, and although the brew did much to help his physical fatigue, it did little to settle the mental anguish he was putting himself through.
He called on Albus via floo at 6:30, and told him he would be ready at the front gates by 7:00 sharp. Little did he know that Albus had already arranged, despite their talk the previous evening, for three other professors to substitute for him today when they had a free class. And classes were the furthest thing on his mind right now. He made sure to grab the necessary scrolls and papers he would need, filing them meticulously in his leather journal before making his way to meet the headmaster.
Before long, Severus felt as everything was moving too fast for his liking. From the gates to Albus to the portkey to standing in front of the tall, ivy-covered brick building now standing before him. He almost couldn’t breathe, and he certainly wasn’t moving. It was almost to the point where he was starting to panic. Had he ever had an anxiety attack before? After a moment or two he felt the tip of Albus’ wand touch his arm and he felt a bit more relaxed.
“I don’t know what you did just now, Albus…but thank you.” he said, forcing his legs to move towards the door even though he would rather them be moving in the opposite direction. He looked above the front door and grimaced as he read.
The sign read, “Happy Homes of Hogsmeade Orphanage.”
“It doesn’t look very happy,” he mused, and the old wizard smiled back at him.
“Neither do you, my boy….now come on. We might as well face the Muzak.” he joked, but Severus said nothing, shuffling behind instead, letting Albus take the lead.
They weren’t even in the door five seconds when a worker from the orphanage called out to them.
“More angels coming to adopt! Thank you, Lord…it has been a madhouse for the last two days!”
Severus almost snorted as she said the last bit. Come and take over my job, sometime… he thought. I’ll show you madness.
She led them two a waiting room that barely served it’s purpose as they were both immediately called into separate rooms to be interviewed. Albus was right on one account, it was wise to come early in the morning on a weekday.
Severus walked into the office as instructed and sat down, almost cringing as the door shut behind him. A short, pixie-ish blonde woman walked back to the other side of her desk opposite him and sat down.
“Please excuse the mess,” she intoned towards the desk area, not even looking up as she grabbed a stack of necessary forms from the top of her file cabinet. “You are here to adopt, correct?”
The man sitting before her cleared his throat, trying to keep his promise of being civil. “Yes.” It was almost too quiet.
“Your name, sir?” she stated.
“Severus Snape….Professor Severus Snape.”
“Do you have your wand and your identification records?”
He nodded, handing the journal over to her almost reluctantly. She watched him for a moment, noticing how his hands were slightly shaking when he did so.
She raised a brow. “I take it the Ministry has helped you make this particular decision?” She was smiling now, and he didn’t like it.
Severus pondered his answer for a moment, finally decided that it couldn’t hurt to be frank and out in the open. “Unfortunately, yes. To be quite honest, Miss…” he said, looking at her name plaque, “Ferraro…I had never even considered becoming a parent. I teach potions for an elite boarding school, and there are times when it’s hard finding time just for myself, let alone a small child.”
Miss Ferraro nodded her head sympathetically. “I can understand, Professor. The last two months have been harsh on our society, let alone the chaos of our own routines before the conflict started. May I ask where you teach?”
“I teach at the Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizarding.”
“Impressive,” she said, before turning back to his scrolls and paperwork. “I hear they are one of the best wizarding schools in the country.”
He merely inclined his head, watching her fill out the forms that were adjacent to his own, and answering each question as it was presented to him. From his name to his profession to his age to his sexual preference, everything was filed down. Before it was all over, he was really beginning to feel violated. His entire life’s history was being jotted down on just a few sheets of paper.
“The Ministry has sped up the approval of adoptions,” she muttered, almost to herself. “The standard process takes a lot longer than just a day, mind you. Usually two months.”
This time he was the one to raise his brows. “That long?”
“Oh yes,” she nodded, looking up. “You can’t just hand a child over to just anybody who walks in the door. They have to be interviewed, screened by a board of trustees, observed in their own environment and so forth. I know the circumstances right now are dire, sir…but I still think the Ministry is making a huge mistake with this law. Children are allowed to go home with the adoption candidates the very same day now. And that means our foster care service staff will be working overtime to make weekly check-ups on all these children, and we could really use their help here in the orphanage. But it has to be done. I just don’t think it’s right to cut through so much red tape when the welfare of children is the main factor involved.”
For once, Severus nodded. “I understand. The Ministry has a way of rushing into all kinds of things.”
“And it’s not likely to end soon…” she trailed off, annoyed. He almost smiled at that, if it weren’t for the new surge of unwanted doom now washing over him. It was entirely possible that not only would the unthinkable happen in the way of him becoming a parent, but the fact that he would bringing a child home with him. Today.
“Well, let’s see…” Miss Ferraro said, cutting into his inner turmoil. “I think we have all the necessary forms filled out. You will need to have a blood sample taken and your wand registered with the…oh wait…I see you have a paper of your wand registry right here…let me just make a copy…”
After a few moments of shuffling papers and a stapling charm, she re-read the papers back to him for his approval. After a few more explanations and giving a booklet of child service references to him, he was signing the forms and gathering his own paperwork up, along with the copy of the adoption application they had filled out.
“We are extremely short-handed, as you can see…so if you will step into this side room, I will take your blood sample. We usually have other people for this, but we have been recently trained to do this ourselves since workers are in limited supply right now.”
He nodded and followed her into the next room, taking off his coat before sitting down on the stool and patiently waiting and watching as she scrubbed her hands thoroughly and sterilized a needle before walking back over to him.
“Roll up your left sleeve, please…” she murmured, grabbing a piece of cotton and swabbing it with alcohol.
He froze.
“Your arm, Professor Snape?” she said, looking up at him now.
He quickly unbuttoned and rolled up the sleeve of his right arm, hoping she wouldn’t notice. She didn’t say anything, and he was relieved. However, right before she stuck the needle in his arm, she shook her head.
“I’m sorry, Professor…I need your left arm. Standard procedure.”
At this he was really beginning to panic. “I always have blood taken out of my right arm and…”
“Sir, I’m sorry…but I need your left arm. That’s the code we have to follow.” she said, stressing her words a bit more, sounding more like Professor McGonagall with each second.
He slowly nodded his head, and exhaled slowly. Carefully and quietly, he gave into her wishes and was rolling his left sleeve back. He held his breath as her gaze traveled from the needle to his arm and she stopped, looking back up at him with heavy concern on his face.
“Excuse me, sir.” she whispered, setting the needle down and quickly leaving the room.
His heart was beating fast at that point as he stared at the fading mark on his arm. He heard her office door open and her footsteps echo down the hallway, calling for another worker to come to her. All he could make out was rushed whispers, followed by more silence. He was glad the walls were fairly thin at that point, barely discerning the sounds of the two workers calling the Ministry by floo, followed by more voices. This time, a male and another recognizable… Albus, he thought.
The seconds wore on as the clock on the wall made softly ticking sounds that were more like loud beatings to his ears. He knew the axe would fall any second. He would be surrounded by Ministry officials and a team of Aurors, despite a few of them knowing his dual-role in the war. It was all he could do not to just walk out and pretend he never set foot inside this establishment. He heard footsteps now, but he didn’t even bother to look up from where his eyes were fixed on the floor.
After another ten minutes, he almost flinched as he saw the form of the young woman walk back into the room with Albus in tow. She seemed a bit flushed but was trying to keep her expression neutral. When she opened her mouth to speak, Severus was almost shocked that it wasn’t anything hostile.
“Okay, Professor…that tiny matter is taken care of now.” she said, as if it were no big deal. He knew what was coming, and in his mind it wasn’t pretty. He would be incarcerated, of course…followed by a lengthy trial. If he were lucky they would grant him a reprieve.
However, when she spoke again, the shock he felt before was nothing compared to what he was about to feel.
“Your arm, sir.” she stated, picking up the needle once more. He looked over to the headmaster and saw blue eyes twinkling back at him.
The professor straightened, staring at her. “Excuse me?”
“Are you going to offer up a third arm for me to use instead? Or can we take the sample so we can get on with the adoption?” she smirked. Severus looked at her and then back to the headmaster, who was calmly smiling back. He nodded his head at Severus and slowly turned around, making his way back to the other room.
Severus offered his left arm to her, barely even feeling her small hands grasping it gently and tapping on a vein, nor did he feel the sting of the needle being injected into his arm. Her gaze on his arm was indifferent now, but a bit on the curious side. She collected the sample, labeling it and setting it in the rack of test tubes. As she rubbed cotton on the puncture mark, she looked up at him. She folded his arm upwards to hold the cotton in place.
“A professor and a war hero,” she smiled shyly. “Whichever child you decide on is a lucky one indeed.”
He couldn’t speak as she turned her back to him for a moment, the lump in his throat suddenly even bigger and his breathing pattern erratic.
…lucky one indeed…
Her words of praise almost taunting his own words he spoke to the headmaster the night before, but this time, it was to compliment him of all people. For the first time, he inhaled deeply and felt the relief wash over him as he realized there would be no Ministry officials coming to try and lock him away.
And he would be able to adopt. For the first time, compared to what could have happened, adoption seemed like a vacation in contrast to thought of being shut up in Azkaban. But just barely. The nervousness returned, but it wasn’t as bad as before.
“Okay, right this way, Professor.” Miss Ferraro said, as if she were escorting one of the wizarding elite to a secluded table in the back of some snotty restaurant.
After a quick tour of the facilities, she pretty much left him to his own devices. He was shown several different rooms of interest and was asked to stay as long as he needed so as not to feel rushed.
“I’ll leave you here, Professor, so you can look around on your own. If you need me or have any questions, you know where my office is.” she said, nervously looking away before heading back to her desk.
Was she blushing? He shook his head, wondering what the world was coming to, and slowly made his way around.
He walked through the corridors, peeking into the various rooms, looking at the children who were inside. Some were playing games in one room, others were studying in another. Not all of the children looked happy, but they seemed to be doing their best despite the recent events. He walked on, looking into more door windows. One room was darkened and he could barely make out a group of children watching what seemed to be some kind of muggle cartoon projected onto the wall.
The next room had children doing whatever they pleased. Some were reading, others were playing with toys quietly. A few of the more rambunctious ones were wrestling on the floor. One was napping in a big cushioned chair. After a moment, they all looked up as they were being called by one of the workers to go and have a snack in the playroom, wherever that was. He watched as all of the children quickly filed out, even the sleepyhead from the cushioned chair. He was just about to walk on when he saw a small form huddled under one of the back tables.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look. It seemed to be a small child, but he couldn’t tell for certain, it appeared to be as still as a statue. He looked around to see if anyone was keeping watch, but so far, there was none. He pushed the slightly ajar door open a bit and slipped inside, trying to remain as careful as possible. When he felt he was at a close enough, yet safe distance, he crouched down.
There, under the table, was the hunched form of a little girl who looked as if she had been crying for several days. There was little light where she was, but he could make out some of her features. She was very pale, with long black hair and a tiny frame. She reminded him of the many cousins on both sides of his family. It was almost odd.
He made to clear his throat, so she would know he was there and to get her attention. But she didn’t move a muscle, and it was at this point that he felt sorry for her. He remembered being in that exact same state many a time in his youth. Hell, he still occasionally felt like that now that he was an adult, except he didn’t hide in dark places anymore. Well, except his dungeons.
Maybe if he said something, she would respond. After all, she should be in there with the other snacking children and not in this room right now, the teacher in him spoke up.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in the playroom with the other children?” he said softly. Before he was even through with his sentence the girl cried out, scrambling from beneath the table and throwing her arms around his hunched form, sobbing.
He was confused and very taken back. He knew children formed quick attachments, but Jesus…this was too much… It wasn’t until he heard her muffled cries that he figured she might still be in shock.
“Daddy!…Daddy!…I missed you so much…!” her grip tightened. Severus was at a loss of what to do. Slowly, he awkwardly brought his arms up and wrapped them around the girl, patting her on the back. Her sobs grew louder, and his stomach lurched.
“They told me you were gone, Daddy! They said you weren’t coming back! They took me away and they wouldn’t let me see you!” she said, burrowing herself in his embrace even further.
He felt horrible just hearing these words, knowing he was going to have to tell this girl that he wasn’t her father, or find a worker who could and to calm the child down. His mind started working overtime. Maybe he looked like the girl’s father, and maybe that’s why she was near hysteria.
He gently held the girl back so she could look at him, and he felt her tense up. Her expression completely changed, and the look on her face was the horrid realization that he was not who she thought he was.
“You’re not…you’re…” she hiccupped. She tried to run but he caught her, trying to calm her down.
“Listen,” he said gently. She tried to pull free but he picked her up and set her down on the nearby sofa, trying not to wince as she now bit into his arm. “Listen!” he said, a bit more firmly.
But she paid him no mind as she started to scream, this time clamping his hand firmly down over here mouth before he issued his lowest and mostly deadly “Listen. To. Me. Now.” This seemed to register with the girl and she nodded softly, her tears flowing over his hand still covering his mouth.
“I will not hurt you.” he stated quietly. “But I will not tolerate your screaming, either. I just wish to speak with you.” At this point, he didn’t even know why he wished to say anything further to the girl and to just leave her alone, but he pushed the thought away. He slowly removed his hand and was grateful when she didn’t move to jump up or make another sound.
He regarded her carefully, noting her black eyes and her dark red mouth. She seemed so familiar to him, and she was even more pale in this light, but her face still red and splotchy.
“Why did you think I was your father, hmm?” he asked softly.
Her eyes welled up with tears this time, but she didn’t start sobbing again, thankfully. “You...sound…,” she stammered, “You sound…and you look…so much like Daddy.” she sniffed.
He nodded his head. His earlier assumption was correct. But lots of people looked like him in the wizarding world. Well, on second thought, maybe not.
“Well, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” he stated. He could hear the taunts of the Hogwarts children in his head muttering, “Well that’s a first!”
“You look like the paintings at home.” she said in a small voice, and he gave her a very small smile in return.
“Do I?” he asked, and she nodded. “What is your name?”
“Jonette.”
Jonette… Jonette… Where had he heard that name before?
“How old are you, Jonette?”
“I’m six and a half years old.”
“And a half?” he smirked. Again she nodded, studying him very carefully before he spoke again. “What is your surname, Jonette?”
“Snape.”
It was soft and simple and to the point, and upon hearing these words another series of clicks were beginning to go of inside his head.
Dear God…this was his brother’s child. The age was right, and he remembered hearing of her naming ceremony through mutual acquaintances, although he wasn’t invited at the time. And he also knew of the deaths of his brother and his wife just a few months earlier. Surely they would have provided a safe haven for their daughter in case of trouble? How did she wind up here?
All of her other relatives must have also died, he surmised. And there was no way his brother ever would have listed him as next of kin when it came to his daughter’s welfare. Severus and Sendrick had not been close for many years. His brother did not see him as a spy working for the Order, and Severus, due to secret orders of confidentiality at the time could not tell him otherwise. To his brother, he was a Death Eater through and through, with no redeeming quality whatsoever in Sendrick’s eyes.
But, as family tradition would have it, Severus inherited the family home upon hearing of his brother’s death. He had not stepped one foot inside it since he received a copy of the ownership title from the Ministry, nor did he ever ponder the fate of the little girl now sitting before him. He had just assumed she had been taken care of or sent off to live with relations.
To seal his suspicions, Severus carefully asked, “Was your father a doctor?”
The girl nodded very fast.
“Was his name ‘Sendrick?’”
Her mouth was gaping openly now. “Did you…know my daddy?”
Severus inclined his head. “Indeed I did.” He took a deep breath. “I am his brother, and your uncle. My name is Professor Severus Snape. You can call me Severus or ‘Professor’ if you wish.”
The girl’s eyes widened and she studied him some more. At least if he chose her, he would have a good reason when asked who the child was trailing behind him. She looked like everyone else in his family line, so they wouldn’t look too out of place when out in public.
“You’re a Snape, too?” she said.
She obviously never heard anything about him. She probably thought her father was an only child. He stared back at her, before nodding his head yet again.
“Yes…and I’ve come to take you home.”
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