A/N: This story was the original drafted idea for the character of Eve Peters from my other story "Dudley Dursley and the Deathly Hallows." (Go check it out if you would like, but it does not hinder on this story - as Eve will have significant differences in this one, so it isn't required.) This is an AU story that focuses on the concept of Severus Snape having a daughter before, during, and after Harry Potter's time at Hogwarts. I know this trope has been done excessively, but I hope to bring a different spin on it without falling into the pit of predictability. So read, enjoy, and comment if you'd like me to dabble further into this story.

Prologue: The Daughter

(June 1989)

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The sound of the analog clock echoed loudly in the empty hallway, grinding in her ears like a chisel. She tried to drown out the mind-infesting sound by rolling her skateboard back and forth with her foot as she sat in an itchy office chair. But no matter how hard she dug her foot into her board, it did not create a sound loud enough to cover the clocks endless noise.

Eve Peters looked up to stare at the hall clock in frustration, wishing for silence. Wishing she wasn't in this stupid hallway, in this stupid building, waiting for her entire life to change. She was about to meet her biological father.

Then it stopped. As though fearful of the girl's rage, the clock had ceased functioning; the second hand hovered between the 2 and 3, no longer moving around the face. No longer making a sound. Eve sighed with relief, but instinctively clutched her backpack, worried that something else strange might happen to the clock. But nothing did.

Eve chewed on her lower lip, trying to piece together the erratic thoughts that buzzed through her mind. Before the accident, it had always been her and her mother. No grandparents, no aunts or uncles, and no father; just Renee and Eve, the mother-daughter duo. Obviously, Eve had known she had a father; she was ten years old after all and she understood basic biology, but she had never met him, nor had her mother ever spoken of him. She did not know his name or what he looked like, and had always assumed that he had died or something.

A few paper birds flew passed her, their parchment wings rustling as they flapped down the long hallway. Had she seen the spectacle a week ago, Eve would have leapt away in fear of their unnatural quality. But she had learned a lot in the past seven days when her foster care counselor handed over her case to counselor Gary Kowalski, who had a knack for handling "special cases" like her's.

Eve had always had a feeling that there was something different about her; strange things tended to happen around Eve ever since she could remember, but she had always had a logical explanation for them. Toys that her mother had taken from her when she had gotten in trouble always appeared back in her toy box within minutes, locked doors would mysteriously unlock when she jiggled the handles enough, small cuts and bruises had somehow disappeared before she reached home after falling off her skateboard. It wasn't until after the accident that the bizarre incidents had increases in both frequency and scale after Eve had somehow ended up outside of the car she mother had been driving when that drunk driver hit them head on…

The strange events had only escalated when she she was put into the care of the Jensen family. Eve had not gotten on well with the family, especially Mrs. Jensen and her oldest son. They had been on a mission to "save" her soul in the most unchristian ways possible. There were only so many times that she could stand the words "bastard child" and "heathen" without causing something to happen. In the short time that she had lived with them, there had been two basement floods, an ant infestation, and the disappearance of several of the Jensen's belongings – each of the events had happened after Eve had wished them ill after a fight with the older boy or his mother. She was not the only one who made this connection, for though there was never any evidence that Eve had caused these things to happen, Mrs. Jensen had become convinced that she was the spawn of the devil. Everything had come to a head when all their kitchen windows exploded after the Jensen boy tore up her math homework.

When Ms. Gary Kowalski took over her case, not only had Eve been removed from the insane foster family, but she had also been introduced her to the world of magic, and to the fact that her father was alive and a member of this magical society. Eve had always prided herself in being a practical and logical child; she had never played with the idea of magic as a reality. But upon staying with Gary for the past week, her views on magic and entered the world's reality. It was both incredible and terrifying at the same time.

Gary Kowalski had been both supportive and incredibly sympathetic towards Eve - which she supposed was what made her such a successful counselor - the older woman berated the broken system for finding orphaned magical children.

"Normally we are able to find No-Maj borns or other magical children in time to find them suitable arrangements with magical families when they have nowhere else to go, as their names are on the Ilvermorny Registry from the time they are born." she had explained to an exhausted Eve on her first night in this bizarre world. "But for those with magical parentage outside of the states, they are usually registered in their home country. Lucky, Albus Dumbledore is far more cooperative than other schools, and I was able to get your Hogwarts Registry information rather quickly. It was amazing luck we also happened to find your father - apparently you look just like him - turns out he works for Dumbledore as a teacher... "

Eve had to stop her counselor for the millionth time that day so that she could explain what Ilvermorny and Hogwarts were, or who Dumbledore was. Gary had to backtrack and explain that they were two of many magical schools, and Dumbledore was the headmaster of Hogwarts. Eve's would-be excitement of magical schools was weighed down by the knowledge of her father. She had no idea what he was like, or what having a dad was like, and the idea made her more nervous than excited.

That sensation filled her in waves throughout the week as arrangements and plans were made. Eve tried to busy herself with all of the books on magic in Gary's home and office (after all, she had a lot of to learn) but her nerves would catch up with her, making her a bit jittery.

That sensation had increased tenfold as Eve now sat in the hall of the AMAA, (American Magical Adoption Agency) and even with the absence of the ticking clock, her leg frantically pushed and pulled the skateboard back and forth. Back. And forth.

"Eve?" the girl jumped at Gary's voice, launching her skateboard out of her foot's reach. Despite the heavy looking oak door, the woman had managed to open it without making a sound. 'Another form of magic.' Eve thought to herself as she stood up to retrieve it, still shaking a little.

"Yes?" she tried to say in her most composed voice.

"I'm sorry if I surprised you," Gary smiled sympathetically. "Would you like to come in now?"

Eve found herself nodding as she fiddled with the hem of her lilac blouse that lay just over her grey skirt - apparel that she never would have picked out herself - it was far too girly for her tastes, but she had to look "presentable". Eve didn't necessarily disagree with this approach, but topping it all off with Mary Janes and lace-lined socks had been enough to put her in a foul mood with her counselor all morning; Gary's idea of presentable was something a five-year-old would wear.

Picking up her skateboard, she forced herself to walk forward. Gary stopped her at the door, tucking a strand of Eve's dark hair behind her ear. She gave the woman a withering look, only to receive an impish grin in return. Gary Kowalski never seemed to be bothered by anything. Eve stepped inside the woman's office with hesitation and Gary took the opportunity to guide her inside.

"Eve, this is your father…"

No kidding.

The thought jumped in her mind. They shared the same near-sickly pale complexion. The same boney frame. The same fine black hair and dark eyes. Eve could have been his shrunken clone if her nose was longer and slightly hooked - and she was very glad it wasn't - but their similarities were still eerily striking. A paternity test really must have been more of a formality than anything else.

"Severus Snape."