Disclaimer: You recognize it I don't own it, don't seem familiar I guess I
do.
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Snape's Angel
Snape's eyes popped open at 4:00a.m like they did any other morning. He was just one of those types of people with built in alarm clocks. He swung his legs over his bed, sat up, and pulled his robe on.
He walked to the bathroom; his body on full alert like something was to attack at any moment. While he was dressing he looked in the mirror. His sharp features, pale skin, and gloomy appearance made him look more like he was half dead. His pitch-black eyes made him appear soulless and his greasy midnight hair was so untamable he didn't even bother to run a brush through it.
'Why do I even get up in the morning?' Snape thought, 'Just to teach those little brats things they'll never understand?'
Snape growled under his breath and walked back into his bedroom. It was dark and cold with stone walls that never kept in heat. All it held was a bed, a desk covered in potions and paperwork, a dresser, and a fireplace that was never lit. A conjoining room held some extra things he never used anymore. Nothing on the walls, no decoration; just a blank room. Exactly how he liked it.
Deciding to skip breakfast, like he usually did, Snape walked to his classroom. It was empty and just as cold as his chamber.
Snape sat down in his desk and buried himself in paperwork. A few third year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs started to fill in the classroom. He taught the class that adding dragon scales and parsel leaves makes a sleeping potion. Doing what he does, Snape walked around the classroom sneering at those who messed up and ignoring those who succeeded.
The class ended none too soon for those third years as they practically ran out the classroom door. Snape would have assigned them homework, but he was too aggravated.
'Third years not being able to make a simple sleeping potion! Intolerable!'
No sooner had he sat down, fifth years began to arrive. 'Perfect, now I have to listen to Potter and his fan club. Hmm. Draco has a sneer on his face; he's up to something.'
The fifth years got out their supplies and started making an anti-venom potion that they spent a full period studying on yesterday. It was suppose to rid the body's blood of pollywig venom when drunken; pollywig being a large catlike demon with razor sharp claws soaked in a toxin. But with the way these students made potions Snape hardly thought it would do the job.
Out of the corner of his eye Snape saw Draco pour something into Neville's potion and it exploded. That boy wouldn't be such a maladroit if Draco wasn't around to help, but Snape always wanted to cause trouble for a Gryffindor.
"Mr. Longbottom! How hard is it to follow simple instructions as to put honeyweed and minced roots in a cauldron?!!"
Neville sank down in his chair; he was looking everywhere but at Snape, and stayed very quiet.
After hearing no reply Snape gruffed, "Just clean it up." For the rest of the double period Snape buried himself in more papers.
"God look at him," Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione, "How can anyone be so grouchy?"
"I think he's got a stick up his."
"Ron!" Hermione interrupted.
"What?"
She sighed.
The rest of the class went fairly reasonable. Although having Snape busy with something else other than humiliating Gryffindors helped the matter a great deal.
Snape scowled once more and his students ran to the door when class was over. He glanced a peek at the clock. A wizarding clock that told him where he needed to be. The hand ticked to the words 'The Great Hall'. Lunchtime.
The Potions Professor thought over whether to skip lunch when his stomach half growled half gurgled. "Damit," Snape cursed at his own human needs for food.
He stood up and walked down the hallway; his robed billowing behind him. Students tried to walk in different corridors when they saw Snape storming down one. Having mercy on any kid who had to pass him. Snape would sneer at them, frightening the younger student and putting the older ones in a bad mood.
"That Snape could make a fairy turn evil," he would hear, or, "That guy could put the sun in a bad mood."
Snape wasn't deaf, he could hear. All though he might as well be; he didn't care. Why should he?
He opened the doors to the Great Hall and walked in having no one pay him any attention. He took a seat at the faculty table as food filled in around him and pumpkin juice filled his goblet.
"Those house elves could use a cooking class," he grumbled to himself as he took a bite of food.
He ate mostly in peace, having nobody disturb him. Nobody wanted to associate with him for fear of having their head bit off. Even most of his colleagues left him to himself nowadays.
Snape left early, as invisible as a ghost, back to his classroom. Even his clock read that he should still be at lunch, but it changed as soon as he walked in the door.
He fiddled with potions and supplies, and getting out some extra cauldrons that were bound to be needed sooner or later.
A bunch of timid Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first years scurried through the door. Many looked unpleasant to be there and some even looked sick.
Snape did a whole lecture on wormleaves and fillywood and how if you mixed the two together you would create a powerful explosion. Throughout the entire lecture there wasn't a single student who eased up on nervousness. Even when class was over Snape had to scowl as them to leave, being too petrified to move.
The rest of the day was similar. Everyone shuffling their feet to come in and running to escape.
Snape skipped dinner and instead went to his chamber to read. Something nobody knew he loved to do. He'd sit for hours at night reading potions books that he hid in that spare room. Then he'd saunter off to bed at a late hour to wake up and repeat the day.
Once again Snape opened his eyes at 4:00a.m and walked into the bathroom to dress in his robes. He took a look in the mirror, scowled, then walked out of his chambers. He took one step outside in the hallway to be greeted by an intelligent looking owl. But what caught Snape's attention was the owl's color. She wasn't a brown, but a very bright golden color, much like a galleon.
In it's beak it was holding an envelope. Snape snatched it away and the owl flew off. He opened the letter and in very fancy script read:
To a one Severus Snape, We regret to inform you that a one Miss. Elena Blake has recently departed our world. She leaves behind a daughter, a one Trisha Blake, who Miss. E. Blake mentioned to be of your blood. You will be required to pick her up at 6:30a.m November 7th, from train 8 at King's Cross. Congratulations Mr. S. Snape of attaining custody of your daughter. Chief of Child Caring at the Ministry of Magic Marshall B. Karlston
Snape's eyes grew wide and his face went paler, if that was possible. His daughter?
'I-I have a d-daughter?' Snape thought, 'But how?!!'
He reread the letter and stared at the name, Elena Blake.
'My God,' Snape could remember her quite clearly now. She had been another Slytherin, until fifth year when they had hooked up.
That is until five or six years ago. They had had a terrible fight, the cause long forgotten, and she packed up and left. He never saw her again.
Snape just packed his memories away and completely forgot about her, until now. He had a daughter, with her?!! Why wasn't he ever informed?!!
It was November 7th, and he them noticed it was a little passed 5:30.
'Shit, I have a class at 6:30,' Snape grumbled as he stomped off to Dumbledore's office.
He scowled the password, "Fruity chews," and marched up the stairs. He rapped on the door and a cheery, "Come in," came from inside.
Dumbledore was busy feeding Fawks, but turned around when he heard someone come in.
His blue eyes twinkled when he saw the Potions Professor, "Ah Severus, to what am I honored to see you here?"
"I need a replacement for my 6 o'clock class."
"Mind I ask what for?"
"Personal."
"Ok then," Dumbledore sighed, "I can have a substitute come in for that period. Are you sure you can be back by the next class?"
"Yes," with that Snape walked out of the room and back down the steps.
He used Floo powder to get to King's Cross, hopefully considering that this child could figure it out.
Snape waited about twenty minutes at Platform 8 and finally the train arrived. Out scurried many muggles, but where was this child?
He waited two more minutes when finally a little five year old female version of himself stepped off the train. It was uncanny, and almost scary, how much she looked like him and nothing like her mother.
Elena had blond hair, bright blue eyes, and tan, smooth skin. This child had his. everything. Her waist length black hair flowed along her back, which was the only characteristic of her mother's; it wasn't greasy, but looked as smooth a silk. She had his pale white skin which made her appear like she has never seen the sun, and her eyes could quite possibly be blacker than his. She was so tiny though, very short and petite and dressed in a black robe. She looked lost and confused. A very familiar golden owl perched on her shoulder making it look more like a small dinosaur than a bird.
Snape grunted and walked over to Trisha. She saw him and took a step back in fear. The owl grasped more firmly to Trisha's shoulder like a reassuring hand grip. She held her ground.
Snape took the one bag beside her. "Follow me," he snapped.
Hesitantly she followed almost running to keep up with Snape's large strides. He handed her a handful of Floo powder hoping she understood.
Trisha just threw the powder and walked through the flames not bothering to shout a name or a place out.
Snape scowled in aggravation, "If I have to go looking for that child I'm going to go crazy."
He himself threw his powder, mentioned his chamber, and stepped through. The world stopped spinning as he stepped out into his chambers. There waiting for him was Trisha.
'How did she do that? She didn't say anything, let alone know where to go. But she's here.'
Snape shook his head and stopped walking right outside his door, "Stay in here until I come back," and then he left for his classroom.
Snape's eyes popped open at 4:00a.m like they did any other morning. He was just one of those types of people with built in alarm clocks. He swung his legs over his bed, sat up, and pulled his robe on.
He walked to the bathroom; his body on full alert like something was to attack at any moment. While he was dressing he looked in the mirror. His sharp features, pale skin, and gloomy appearance made him look more like he was half dead. His pitch-black eyes made him appear soulless and his greasy midnight hair was so untamable he didn't even bother to run a brush through it.
'Why do I even get up in the morning?' Snape thought, 'Just to teach those little brats things they'll never understand?'
Snape growled under his breath and walked back into his bedroom. It was dark and cold with stone walls that never kept in heat. All it held was a bed, a desk covered in potions and paperwork, a dresser, and a fireplace that was never lit. A conjoining room held some extra things he never used anymore. Nothing on the walls, no decoration; just a blank room. Exactly how he liked it.
Deciding to skip breakfast, like he usually did, Snape walked to his classroom. It was empty and just as cold as his chamber.
Snape sat down in his desk and buried himself in paperwork. A few third year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs started to fill in the classroom. He taught the class that adding dragon scales and parsel leaves makes a sleeping potion. Doing what he does, Snape walked around the classroom sneering at those who messed up and ignoring those who succeeded.
The class ended none too soon for those third years as they practically ran out the classroom door. Snape would have assigned them homework, but he was too aggravated.
'Third years not being able to make a simple sleeping potion! Intolerable!'
No sooner had he sat down, fifth years began to arrive. 'Perfect, now I have to listen to Potter and his fan club. Hmm. Draco has a sneer on his face; he's up to something.'
The fifth years got out their supplies and started making an anti-venom potion that they spent a full period studying on yesterday. It was suppose to rid the body's blood of pollywig venom when drunken; pollywig being a large catlike demon with razor sharp claws soaked in a toxin. But with the way these students made potions Snape hardly thought it would do the job.
Out of the corner of his eye Snape saw Draco pour something into Neville's potion and it exploded. That boy wouldn't be such a maladroit if Draco wasn't around to help, but Snape always wanted to cause trouble for a Gryffindor.
"Mr. Longbottom! How hard is it to follow simple instructions as to put honeyweed and minced roots in a cauldron?!!"
Neville sank down in his chair; he was looking everywhere but at Snape, and stayed very quiet.
After hearing no reply Snape gruffed, "Just clean it up." For the rest of the double period Snape buried himself in more papers.
"God look at him," Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione, "How can anyone be so grouchy?"
"I think he's got a stick up his."
"Ron!" Hermione interrupted.
"What?"
She sighed.
The rest of the class went fairly reasonable. Although having Snape busy with something else other than humiliating Gryffindors helped the matter a great deal.
Snape scowled once more and his students ran to the door when class was over. He glanced a peek at the clock. A wizarding clock that told him where he needed to be. The hand ticked to the words 'The Great Hall'. Lunchtime.
The Potions Professor thought over whether to skip lunch when his stomach half growled half gurgled. "Damit," Snape cursed at his own human needs for food.
He stood up and walked down the hallway; his robed billowing behind him. Students tried to walk in different corridors when they saw Snape storming down one. Having mercy on any kid who had to pass him. Snape would sneer at them, frightening the younger student and putting the older ones in a bad mood.
"That Snape could make a fairy turn evil," he would hear, or, "That guy could put the sun in a bad mood."
Snape wasn't deaf, he could hear. All though he might as well be; he didn't care. Why should he?
He opened the doors to the Great Hall and walked in having no one pay him any attention. He took a seat at the faculty table as food filled in around him and pumpkin juice filled his goblet.
"Those house elves could use a cooking class," he grumbled to himself as he took a bite of food.
He ate mostly in peace, having nobody disturb him. Nobody wanted to associate with him for fear of having their head bit off. Even most of his colleagues left him to himself nowadays.
Snape left early, as invisible as a ghost, back to his classroom. Even his clock read that he should still be at lunch, but it changed as soon as he walked in the door.
He fiddled with potions and supplies, and getting out some extra cauldrons that were bound to be needed sooner or later.
A bunch of timid Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first years scurried through the door. Many looked unpleasant to be there and some even looked sick.
Snape did a whole lecture on wormleaves and fillywood and how if you mixed the two together you would create a powerful explosion. Throughout the entire lecture there wasn't a single student who eased up on nervousness. Even when class was over Snape had to scowl as them to leave, being too petrified to move.
The rest of the day was similar. Everyone shuffling their feet to come in and running to escape.
Snape skipped dinner and instead went to his chamber to read. Something nobody knew he loved to do. He'd sit for hours at night reading potions books that he hid in that spare room. Then he'd saunter off to bed at a late hour to wake up and repeat the day.
Once again Snape opened his eyes at 4:00a.m and walked into the bathroom to dress in his robes. He took a look in the mirror, scowled, then walked out of his chambers. He took one step outside in the hallway to be greeted by an intelligent looking owl. But what caught Snape's attention was the owl's color. She wasn't a brown, but a very bright golden color, much like a galleon.
In it's beak it was holding an envelope. Snape snatched it away and the owl flew off. He opened the letter and in very fancy script read:
To a one Severus Snape, We regret to inform you that a one Miss. Elena Blake has recently departed our world. She leaves behind a daughter, a one Trisha Blake, who Miss. E. Blake mentioned to be of your blood. You will be required to pick her up at 6:30a.m November 7th, from train 8 at King's Cross. Congratulations Mr. S. Snape of attaining custody of your daughter. Chief of Child Caring at the Ministry of Magic Marshall B. Karlston
Snape's eyes grew wide and his face went paler, if that was possible. His daughter?
'I-I have a d-daughter?' Snape thought, 'But how?!!'
He reread the letter and stared at the name, Elena Blake.
'My God,' Snape could remember her quite clearly now. She had been another Slytherin, until fifth year when they had hooked up.
That is until five or six years ago. They had had a terrible fight, the cause long forgotten, and she packed up and left. He never saw her again.
Snape just packed his memories away and completely forgot about her, until now. He had a daughter, with her?!! Why wasn't he ever informed?!!
It was November 7th, and he them noticed it was a little passed 5:30.
'Shit, I have a class at 6:30,' Snape grumbled as he stomped off to Dumbledore's office.
He scowled the password, "Fruity chews," and marched up the stairs. He rapped on the door and a cheery, "Come in," came from inside.
Dumbledore was busy feeding Fawks, but turned around when he heard someone come in.
His blue eyes twinkled when he saw the Potions Professor, "Ah Severus, to what am I honored to see you here?"
"I need a replacement for my 6 o'clock class."
"Mind I ask what for?"
"Personal."
"Ok then," Dumbledore sighed, "I can have a substitute come in for that period. Are you sure you can be back by the next class?"
"Yes," with that Snape walked out of the room and back down the steps.
He used Floo powder to get to King's Cross, hopefully considering that this child could figure it out.
Snape waited about twenty minutes at Platform 8 and finally the train arrived. Out scurried many muggles, but where was this child?
He waited two more minutes when finally a little five year old female version of himself stepped off the train. It was uncanny, and almost scary, how much she looked like him and nothing like her mother.
Elena had blond hair, bright blue eyes, and tan, smooth skin. This child had his. everything. Her waist length black hair flowed along her back, which was the only characteristic of her mother's; it wasn't greasy, but looked as smooth a silk. She had his pale white skin which made her appear like she has never seen the sun, and her eyes could quite possibly be blacker than his. She was so tiny though, very short and petite and dressed in a black robe. She looked lost and confused. A very familiar golden owl perched on her shoulder making it look more like a small dinosaur than a bird.
Snape grunted and walked over to Trisha. She saw him and took a step back in fear. The owl grasped more firmly to Trisha's shoulder like a reassuring hand grip. She held her ground.
Snape took the one bag beside her. "Follow me," he snapped.
Hesitantly she followed almost running to keep up with Snape's large strides. He handed her a handful of Floo powder hoping she understood.
Trisha just threw the powder and walked through the flames not bothering to shout a name or a place out.
Snape scowled in aggravation, "If I have to go looking for that child I'm going to go crazy."
He himself threw his powder, mentioned his chamber, and stepped through. The world stopped spinning as he stepped out into his chambers. There waiting for him was Trisha.
'How did she do that? She didn't say anything, let alone know where to go. But she's here.'
Snape shook his head and stopped walking right outside his door, "Stay in here until I come back," and then he left for his classroom.