Now that her uncle was on the run from Dementors for escaping Azkaban, she was supposed to be staying with him. No matter how creepy his house was, or how dangerous it was to stay with him, she would much rather stay with Sirius then with Snape.
Deirdre sighed as her long black hair hit her back everytime she swung backward. She dug the heels of her shoes into the ground and stopped the swing standing up and walking around the park a few times.
It was growing colder as every minute passed and it grew later...was he waiting for her to knock on the door...or rather hoping that she wasn't coming at all. As much as she hated to admit it to herself and simply refused to say anything to anyone else...her and Serverus Snape were somewhat alike.
Both were working for both sides, good and evil. Dumbledore and Voldemort. Deirdre, however, was not as good at hiding her good side as Snape...a few close friends of hers were able to see that she was, slightly kind, not all heartless. Sometimes she thought that it would be so much easier if she was...the feelings and horrible things that she saw would not bother her as much as they did now.
But now she knew that Snape himself wasn't at all heartless...but yet heartbroken. The one girl that he cared for married another, bore a child, and was killed right before his eyes. Since then he had been careful not to even being to like anyone...
Getting a little chilly, Deidre began walking down the street when above she saw a black skeleton horse, she took in a deep breath thinking at first it was a Dementor. It wasn't...yet a Threstle...a ghost horse that only the ones who have seen death are able to witness the strange appearance of these creatures. She gazed in wonder as it passed by...
Now she was standing before the door of his house, she hit her knuckles on the door producing a faint knock as she stood wondering every second if she had enough time to run back to the park and try to appearite back to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. It seemed to risky at the time...