She shuffled back in forth uneasily in her seat; the large leather chair was far too big for the scrawny 11-year-old girl. It had been a week since we had found the little orphan online, my son Scorpio had been doing some browsing on the Internet and looked up Snape out of some impulse. He had come across some random things that usually pop up on the Internet, but he found something rather interesting as well. He found the orphan registry for the only living relative of Severus T. Snape. A young girl, living in London, was being raised by her father, Tobius. The man died, somewhat of a mix of age and whiskey when she was 8. She was whisked off by some muggle authorities and taken to the only place that took children like her, the orphanage. Tobius Snape, the father of Severus, had another child after leaving Severus' mother when Severus was 17. He had named her Charlotte.
Severus was my Potions professor and so much more, he protected me out of respect for my father (who was his best male friend since he was 11), he died for me and the rest of the wizard world. He worked as a spy for the headmaster Dumbledore and met his fate at the fangs of Lord Voldemort's snake. I respected him and grew up knowing him as Uncle Snape, even though he wasn't even really my godfather. I couldn't let his sister, even his half sister; live in the poverty-stricken orphanage where she had grew, unruly and unrestricted for 3 years.
I have retired my bias for muggles since the last battle at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but it's hard to erase 16 years of influence by my mudblood hating father. After the battle we were allowed to live, however without all the fear of the community and copious amounts of money we were 'asked' to spend to repair damages done by the death eaters. We also had to rat out any surviving comrades who remained in hiding. After all that my father died, all the stress got his heart at the end, and my dear mother lives in a wing of our mansion.
I took in the girl; it was easy considering how much space we have in our home, and how much money still remained. The hardest part was gaining her trust. From the moment I went to adopt her until a week after she moved in she hadn't spoke to anyone. She finally found a confidant in my son, who is also 11 years of age. We are currently waiting in the living room while my mother and my wife prepare breakfast for their last morning here. My son and new daughter are going to Hogwarts today, I bought both of them good supplies, nothing too sickeningly rich. I didn't want to raise them like my father raised me.
Charlotte, my son calls her Chuck, was a little bit tall for her age. Her hair lay limp at her shoulders until a few days ago when she got it cut, boy's style, to her ears. Now it sticks out at different angles and she looks like, with her nickname and all, she could be mistaken for a boy. She wore my son's old clothes, much to my wife's dismay, she agreed to adopt her only because she was expecting a little doll to dress and teach proper etiquette. She swung he legs and hung her head in silence, avoiding everyone's eyes. She never mentioned her father, but I have the uneasy impression that she was neglected for years by her drunkard father. Tobius wasn't a bad man, but he drank copious amounts and most likely left her alone to fend for herself for most of her childhood. Her eyes are jet black, a few specks of gold hidden in her large, wounded puppy eyes. Her nose, half the size of her brothers, was cute and didn't stick up in the least like her mother (as I've only seen pictures of her, I can only suspect it wasn't for her looks that Tobius was with her). Her skin was pale; she was pretty really, delicate. I was expecting her to have no magic at all, but she surprised me a few days after starting to talk to my son. I found her hiding in the garden behind our house. She was bringing some of the dead lilies in the pond back to life.
She was beginning to get very uncomfortable and I realized I was starring subconsciously. She looked over to Scorpio for help; he patted the seat next to him and pulled out his DS. My son was the spitting image of me, as I was to my father. But I raised him as his own person; he chose not to be biased when I explained everything to him at eight. He often played with technologies denied to me at his age. She walked over to the large couch, a more comfortable suede green, she was better suited here than in my father's favorite throne. She watched him play some sort of racing game. Scorpio stuck his tongue out comically and shifted his DS to the right, as if that would help.
"Scorpio, stop playing with that thing and come get your food!" my pureblood wife snapped at my son. "You too Charlotte, sweetheart." She said in a sympathetic coo. They both hopped up and Charlotte floated over, like a soft butterfly, and picked up a meager piece of un-buttered toast. "Really, Chuck, I don't know how you haven't disintegrated yet. You never eat a thing!" said Scorpio, shoveling sausages onto his plate. "Oh now, Scorpi, its okay for girls to eat less, they have to stay thin so she can marry a nice boy." My wife said as good naturedly as possible. My mother rolled her eyes. Chuck looked up from the toast she had been nibbling on, moved over to the table, grabbed a big plate, and pilled on at least 4 of everything she could reach. My wife was stunned and my son and I rolled over in laughter. My mother stifled a laugh and tried to assuage my wife's anger/shock. This bold form of rebellion is something none of us expected from the shaky silent child.
Chuck came over with a bounce in her step, sat next to Scorpio on the floor and chowed down. My son took her lead and my wife started to complain about how they would need to wash up again. "Scorpio, its time to leave, finish up you two." I said, still laughing. They shoved the last few bites into their mouths and followed me into the enormous front yard.
"That was funny Chuck," I said, talking to her with her preferred nickname. She smiled mischievously up to me, her smug sneer the exact replica of her brother's. We reached the end of the yard and I took hold of their hands, preparing to apparate. After the rather unpleasant sensation of the brief teleportation we landed in an alley behind Kings Cross Station. I quickly popped back for our luggage and we were on our way. Inside the bustling station I recognized a few wizards and witches from my years at Hogwarts. Harry Potter looked over to me and I saw that he had three kids (only two boarding the train), Weasley and Granger had two I could see. I was expecting more than that. I saw some others but I mostly focused on Harry. He looked over to me and nodded in understanding. My mother had let him live; we had betrayed the dark lord to save him and mostly ourselves. It would never make up for the years of torture I inflicted on him and his friends, but we weren't enemies after the last battle.
Chuck played with her cat, Giles, and Scorpio poked at his large white owl Jasper through the metal cage. "Leave your owl alone Scor." Chuck said in a hurt voice to Scorpio. He withdrew his finger and gave him an owl treat. "That's better," she said to the owl. The cat walked circles in between her feet, she was quite gentle, but Scorpio assured me she had a sharp tongue when she argued with him. She merely had a soft spot for helpless creatures. They walked onto the train, and my son ran to some of his childhood playmates, Chuck turned in the door to wave goodbye "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy." She said, with a genuine smile. She followed 'Scor' down the train and I saw a few glimpses of her through the window, and Scorpio popped out to wave goodbye cheering and laughing like all of the other children.
Without the kids it was rather empty in the station, the parents here, in the aftermath of losing their child to yet another, or their first, school year. I walked over to Harry, much to the group's surprise. "Hello" he said, unsure of whether our little established understanding included conversation. "Hey." I said back, informally. "I just wanted to tell you about the girl who I brought here, she isn't mine and I think you would be interested to know who she is." The others seemed skeptical but Harry waited in anticipation. "Her name is Charlotte (Chuck as she prefers it) Snape," I said, a small gasp from Hermione and Ginny, Ron grunted in surprise. "What? How?" Harry asked. "She's Snape's half sister. I just thought you'd be interested. She hasn't exactly had the best life, I was hoping maybe a few of your children would be her friend, I would like her not to end up like…" "Severus?" asked Harry. "We can't force our kids to be friends" I frowned disappointed "We'll ask them to be kind at least." He said gesturing to him and his wife Ginny. Ron nodded in agreement. "Thank you" I said almost cheerily, I turned around as if I had forgotten something. "I know you and I… I know how awful I was. My son was raised to think that the difference between muggles and wizards was simple DNA, magic, and chance. That witches and wizards raised by muggles were no different to him. The point is my son isn't awful, and I was hoping you hadn't told your kids to stay away from him…" I looked hopefully into Harry's green eyes. "I told him the facts about Voldemort and the death eaters, and how our friends died, but I also told him about how your mother kept me alive and how you sold out the others, and how you donated money to Hogwarts for new facilities. If he has some impression of your son, he reached the conclusion himself" Harry said monotonously. We shook hands; that wasn't the last time I would be talking to Harry about my son.