Chapter One

Chapter One.

Sabriel shivered in the cool evening breeze as she looked up at the gloomy castle. After her dull and isolated train-ride, she was glad she hadn't been placed in the boats with the first-years, that would have simply added to the truly horrific day she had had so far. The thestral pulling her carriage made a sort of snuffling sound as it put its head down ready for the final uphill push towards the entrance to the castle.

She had been to Hogwarts before, of course, but never during term time and never for very long. What she had experienced was a dark, gloomy place which was far too quiet for her liking. She had felt lonely in the enormous hallways and on her strolls round the fathomless lake in the grounds. She felt lonely now, solitary in her carriage. Everyone else had friends to ride with.

Sabriel's friends were hundreds of miles away, tucked up in bed, asleep in their dormitories. She wished she were back at Durmstrang now, asleep with them, familiar with her world and her surroundings, rather than in this new school with new systems and new prejudices.

She wished her father hadn't been so nervous and protective. Why did he have to be so jumpy? Voldemort was in Britain, not Scandinavia; she couldn't see why his return at the end of last year meant that she had to move back to England. In fact, it was nonsensical. But, her father had always been very protective of her since the death of her mother. It was incredible that he had ever sent her so far away, considering his overprotective nature. But then, he'd probably wanted to protect her from himself more than anything. And Durmstrang had been the home of Grindelwald, the great dark wizard preceding Voldemort, so she supposed it had a tendency towards bad guys.

She awoke from her reverie as the thestral came to a sudden halt outside the entrance. The students, gossiping and catching up after the holidays, were streaming towards the light which was emanating from the huge front doors. She spotted Professor McGonagall standing to one side, keeping an eye on the throng and shushing them loudly at intervals. Unsure as to what she should do, she crossed the mass of people and walked over to the strict-looking witch.

"Um, excuse me, Professor?"

Professor McGonagall looked around and was about to speak when a fight started in the middle of the entrance way.

"Just a minute, dear" she muttered to Sabriel as she charged off to break it up

"…never in all my time at Hogwarts have I seen such behaviour on the first night!"

Sabriel sighed. If fights were the worst thing that could happen at Hogwarts, she was going to be in for a quiet year.

"Sorry dear, I hope you don't think that's how it always is at Hogwarts. Honestly! Fighting before they've even reached the entrance hall!" She looked more incredulous than anything else. "Anyway, welcome to Hogwarts! I don't quite know what to do with you, my dear. We don't usually have the dilemma of Sorting a fifth year student. I suppose I'll just call out your name with the first years, there's not much else I can do I'm afraid."

Sabriel sighed again. People would think she'd been put back a few years because of total stupidity, or lack of magical talent or something. Then again, they probably wouldn't notice much beyond her last name.

"That's fine Professor McGonagall, I don't mind." She said in a falsely cheery voice.

"Good. Just wait over here with me until the first years get here."

They didn't have long to wait, about a minute later the huge frame of Hagrid the gamekeeper loomed in the darkness; terrifying if it hadn't been for his warm smile.

"'Lo there professor! Got the firs' years over the lake all righ'. Only a little wet, aren' yeh?"

If the terrified first years were 'only a little wet' then Sabriel shuddered to think how wet the previous year's new entrants had been. The wide eyed and frozen faces were obscured by drenched hair which stuck to their skin. Their robes dragged along the ground, picking up dead leaves and one boy was trailing an enormous piece of slimy weed behind him.

Professor McGonagall gave her usual speech to the first years, with the ever mysterious lack of information about 'The Sorting' and what it entailed, and after she had finished, they were beckoned through the entrance way and into the great hall.

Sabriel heard the soft 'aah!'s of awe as the first years glimpsed the magical ceiling which, like the sky outside, was slightly overcast, the moon not yet high enough to be visible. She had already seen the ceiling many times and did not join in the exclamations uttered by the tiny little heads bobbing in front of her. Already, she heard the whispers of the students sitting at the four long house tables, as they noticed her, an obviously much older girl, among the littl'uns.

The Sorting Hat burst into song. Uninterested, she scanned the room. At the far end of the hall was the staff table, Hagrid clearly visible at the right of the rest. Dumbledore sitting, amused-looking, in the centre. The students were fidgeting. They looked bored and hungry. She couldn't blame them; how many times had some of them seen a sorting now?

During her observations, the song had finished and McGonagall had been explaining to the first years what would happen and was now beginning to read out the names. Sabriel snapped to attention; she didn't want the preconception that she was slow to be emphasised by her missing her own name.

"Adder, Derek"

A lanky, dark-haired boy, the tallest in the group stood up and put the Sorting hat on his head. The irony did not escape Sabriel as Derek Adder was announced a "Slytherin!" and he bounded towards the applauding sea of green at the Slytherin table and sat down. As she watched him, a blonde head caught her eye. Draco Malfoy. She suppressed a shudder. Any son of Lucius Malfoy had to be a right little-

"Aggerly, Maisy"

Oh god. How long was this going to take? She was beginning to feel famished and she had only heard good things about the Hogwarts feasts. The Sorting dragged on and on and finally, after "Sotheby, Marcus" was sent over to Ravenclaw, she heard her name called.

"Snape, Sabriel"

The room broke into such furious whispering that Dumbledore had to clear his throat loudly from his seat at the staff table to get it to stop. Gingerly, determined not to trip over or something equally embarrassing, Sabriel walked over to the hat and the stool. She could feel every eye in the hall fixed on her, especially two black ones which cut through her like laser beams from the staff table. McGonagall raised the Sorting Hat in the air, thinking to herself 'No prizes for guessing which house she'll be in!' and lowered it onto Sabriel's head.

"Well, well, well." Said a mischievous voice in her ear. "Interesting. A late comer to Hogwarts. Hmmm, where to put you?"

Sabriel said – well, thought – to the hat: 'Slytherin, obviously.'

But the hat did not agree so readily: "Perhaps, perhaps. Certainly enough power to be in Slytherin, but I don't know if you're… hmmm. I know. Best place for you is GRYFFINDOR!"

No. Thought Sabriel. No, no, NO!! It must be a mistake. She looked over at her father, dreading what she might see.

Severus Snape looked completely shocked. He was staring at his daughter in disbelief. How could this happen? She was his daughter, for heaven's sake; the daughter of the Head of Slytherin House! How could she possibly be in Gryffindor? He noticed the complete silence in the room. Every eye was either on him or his daughter, who looked shocked and terrified. To his left, Dumbledore began to clap and spurred on by him, so did the staff. The tension broke and the hall burst into applause, which was accompanied by an undercurrent of whispering.

Sabriel snapped out of her horror and began her long walk to the nearest available seat at the Gryffindor table. She glanced at her father who seemed to be deliberately looking away, at "Trobley, Jacob" who was scuttling up to the stool. No one else was paying any attention to Jacob, though; everyone in the room was looking at her, including Albus Dumbledore, who was surveying her over his half-moon glasses.

Horrified by the situation she found herself in, she hurriedly sat down in the first seat she could find. She stared at her empty dinner-plate in horror. Gryffindor. Ravenclaw would've been okay. Perhaps even Hufflepuff at a stretch. But not Gryffindor. The hated house. The house of James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. The boys whose memories still plagued her father. The arrogant and self-promoting Gryffindor ego, all talk, all macho-ism and Quidditch skill. Never intelligence and intellect, or cunning or strategy. The obsession with honour and loyalty. Not that there was anything wrong with either of these things, but the way her father told it, they cared more for honour and loyalty than justice, or fairness or truth. How could she, her father's daughter, possibly fit in to this house of… chivalric morons?

She gave a quiet snort of laughter at this, then realised finally where she was. She looked for the first time at the people surrounding her. To her left, sitting on the opposite bench and squashed together so closely it looked ridiculous, were the first year Gryffindors who seemed to have been reluctant to sit on her bench. When she looked to her right she saw why. 'Merlin's teeth'. She said to herself. Without looking, she had plonked herself right next to Harry Potter. The 'Boy Who Lived' who had seen Voldemort return. He was engaged with his friends who were sitting opposite him. One was a rather pretty girl with an enormous amount of very curly hair and a stern look quite reminiscent of Professor McGonagall. Must be Hermione Granger 'The Know-It-All' as her father had dubbed her. Next to her was a boy tucking into a huge mound of mashed potatoes which he had drowned in gravy, clearly a Weasley, judging by the hair and the state of his robes. Directly opposite her was a girl, also clearly a Weasley, who seemed to be younger than the others. She spotted another two, twins, who seemed to be showing a dreadlocked boy a long, flesh-coloured string.

She glanced up at the staff table. Her father was deep in conversation with an incredibly short wizard who was apparently sitting on a stack of cushions.

"You should eat something before it disappears."

The Weasley girl was looking at her with a smile.

"The plates will clear for dessert. Not that I see any objection to just eating dessert, but the Yorkshire puddings are really very good."

Sabriel suddenly remembered how hungry she was.

"Thanks. I haven't had Yorkshire pudding for years." And with that she began to fork some roast beef on to her plate.

The food was excellent. 'Better than Borscht every night' she thought to herself. She had just mopped up the last of her gravy with a final Yorkshire pudding when the remaining food on the table vanished, replaced with a huge array of various desserts. She spotted a treacle tart and almost squealed with delight.

"Merlin's teeth" she said "Treacle tart! My favourite!"

"Mine too."

She turned away from the huge piece of treacle tart she had plonked on to her plate to see Potter smiling at her.

"I think Hogwarts treacle tart is the best in the world, actually"

She smiled back at him.

"I'm Harry Potter, this is Hermione Granger" the curly-haired girl gave a little wave "and Ron Weasley" unable to speak due to a huge amount of trifle in his mouth, Ron merely nodded and made a sound like "lee zoom ee choo."

The redheaded girl opposite her gave Ron a look of disgust and said "I'm Ginny Weasley, Ron's sister."

Sabriel looked at them. They were being nice to her, despite her name. She hadn't expected such behaviour from Gryffindors.

"I'm Sabriel." She was reluctant to tell them her last name. "Sabriel Snape."

They looked at her curiously. Ron, who seemed to have finished chewing his mouthful, asked her directly."

"Any relation to Professor Snape?"

Hermione seemed to have kicked him under the table. Ginny looked at him disgustedly again; "Ron! Honestly."

"OW! What?" He looked bewildered.

"It's okay, really." Sabriel smiled. "Severus Snape is my father."

Three shocked faces looked at her. She was used to this, the resemblance between her and her father was very slight. While her father was sallow, she was simply pale – almost exotically so – and she had thankfully missed out on her father's enormous nose. Her dark hair was sleek and thick and framed her face well. The only feature she shared with her father were her black eyes, which seemed to be almost liquid as they twinkled. While her father's eyes were often cold, Sabriel's were full of warmth and laughter. She had her mother's stunning eyebrows and thick eyelashes and slightly pointed chin. She could understand why they must have thought she was a cousin or something.

Harry stared at her. How could this girl be Snape's daughter? She looked nothing like him and she actually seemed friendly. Also, she was in Gryffindor. And very pretty…

He snapped out of it and focused on his treacle tart. No way would that be a good idea.

"Merlin." Said Ron with an open mouth. "Seriously?"

"RON!" Hermione kicked him again. "Have you NO manners whatsoever?"

"Well… I mean, um, yeah. Wow. Okay." Ron looked flabbergasted.

Ginny tried to rectify the situation; "He's usually much more coherent than this."

Harry looked at her quizzically.

"Okay, so he's always like this, but it's just… we didn't know Snape had a kid."

Sabriel looked at Ginny with a smile "'Cause my father is renowned for his willingness to share his life story with everyone he meets." That got a laugh, thank Merlin and broke the tension which had been almost tangible since her little announcement.

After they had finished their first helping of Treacle tart and broken the ice a little, Harry began asking the questions which Sabriel knew had been burning in their minds for some time.

"So, how come you're only just coming to Hogwarts now? I mean, you're our age."

"I went to a different school." Sabriel sighed inwardly at the inquisitive expressions in front of her. "My father sent me to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts, but since the Triwizard Cup (she saw a flicker of something cross Harry's face) he wants me closer to home. He figures Hogwarts has got to be safer than most places."

Hermione frowned. "Durmstrang? Isn't that school a little…" She trailed off not wanting to offend the new girl.

"Dodgy?" Offered Sabriel.

Hermione grinned and nodded.

"Yeah it was a bit." Sabriel smiled "But from what I hear about those two (she pointed to Fred and George) this place isn't the modicum of civility either."

They all laughed heartily, except for Ron who simply chuckled and tried to figure out what modicum meant.

Severus Snape was distraught. He seemed perfectly calm, even Professor Flitwick didn't seem to notice that the Potions Master wasn't attending to a single word he was saying. But underneath the cold exterior, Snape was 'wigging out' as his daughter would put it. Gryffindor. His daughter was in Gryffindor and she was now chatting amicably with Harry Potter. He flinched when he saw them all laughing wholeheartedly at something she had said. Was she already making jokes at his expense? He couldn't blame her; he would do exactly the same thing if it meant avoiding persecution and disgust from his classmates. That didn't mean that the thought of her mocking him didn't hurt. He narrowed his eyes at Potter. If that boy even thought about coming between him and his daughter…

Dumbledore was an excellent multi-tasker. He was, at that moment, simultaneously listening to Professor McGonagall who had read about a new theory of Transfiguration in the Annals of American Sorcery; eating a very confusing chocolate contraption which Dobby had come up with, which seemed to be defying gravity; and noticing the turmoil in which his young Potions Master was embroiled.

Severus looked pale… well, paler than usual. He definitely wasn't listening to Professor Flitwick who was twittering away about some charm or other, he was staring at his fork and his eyes were misty and unfocused. He looked slightly incredulous, an expression which the headmaster had never seen him wear. Nothing usually caught Severus Snape unawares.

He must have been shocked when the Sorting Hat placed his daughter in Gryffindor, they all were. Dumbledore chuckled at the memory of Professor McGonagall's face, her eyebrows under her hat brim in surprise.

"… well I don't know that it's particularly funny, Headmaster, after all it is criminal how little funding Transfiguration academics get."

He turned to see Minerva looking at him over her spectacles.

"Yes, absolutely. Completely agree." Dumbledore nodded profusely. It wasn't like him to be caught not listening. His mind wandered as Professor McGonagall continued her rant against the boards of magical research and he wondered just how much Snape would be affected by this unexpected turn of events.

Sabriel laughed as Fred explained his idea for canary creams. She was pleasantly surprised at the twins' ability to use their talent for magic to entertain. She was so used to people at Durmstrang using their skills to play nasty pranks on others. George was just beginning to explain the finer details of the charm they used when the Headmaster stood up. The Great Hall fell silent.

"Well, another year, another magnificent banquet!"

There were cheers and applause from the students, Fred and George cried out "hear hear!"

Dumbledore smiled and waved his hands to quiet them down. "Now that we have all had much more than enough to eat and drink, you had all better make your way up to the dormitories. Sleep tight!"

Everyone got to their feet and headed towards the entrance hall. Ron and Hermione rushed off with the other prefects, calling out "first years, come this way." Sabriel fell into step beside Harry.

"Can I trust you to show me the way? I feel a little, well, tall next to the first years!"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, I think I can manage."

Sabriel noticed the bitterness in what he said and saw the angry glance at the disappearing backs of his friends as they shepherded the tiny students out of the entrance hall. He was probably feeling annoyed that he hadn't been chosen as a prefect.

She glanced behind her. She had promised her father that she would catch him as they left the Great Hall, but he was nowhere to be seen. She asked Fred if he had seen him leave.

"Yeah, I saw him head down towards the dungeons." Fred then turned to his friend Lee to take a peek at whatever it was in the small suspicious looking box he was gingerly carrying.

Sabriel felt stung. He didn't want to see her. He was ashamed and angry and she couldn't blame him. He was the head of Slytherin and proud of it, while she had been sorted into Gryffindor. She was an embarrassment and a traitor.

"Are you alright?" Harry was looking at her. She hurriedly tried to blink away the tears which were smarting in her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just tired." She gave him a weak smile.

He nodded and continued up the marble staircase. "Oh, watch the trick step." He warned as he watched Neville get himself hauled out of it by Dean and Seamus.

Sabriel forced a chuckle and followed Harry up to the dormitories, convinced that she wouldn't get a wink of sleep.

Severus Snape slammed the door to his dungeon office. He felt like he'd been slapped in the face. His heart had sunk when he had spotted Sabriel bounding off with Potter and her new friends. He grimaced at the thought of his daughter being friendly with them, those foul, self-righteous, disobedient brats who made his life a living hell. She knew how much he hated them and yet she made a beeline straight for them. She was mocking him, in public, for the whole school to see.

Part of him could understand why. He wasn't the greatest father a girl could have. He was distant, moody and proud. He was bitter and twisted and full of hate. Why wouldn't she shun him? He would do whatever he could to get away from himself too.

He sighed and pushed his hair off his face. He collapsed into the chair next to the cold fireplace. He knew he wouldn't sleep tonight.