A/N: This is one of my first attempts at fan fic in a long time, so I'd really love it if you could read and review. Pretty Please?
"I have always believed that all things depended upon Fortune, and nothing upon ourselves."
Chapter One: The Trouble with Eve
It was with some distress that the young woman ran through the cold winter streets, her heavy skirts held high as she flew through puddles of freezing slush. She ignored the icy rain that pelted down onto her pale face, reddening her cheeks and the tip of her nose. She barely felt the cold, and underneath her tightly laced silk bodice she had begun to sweat.
Eve Margot seldom had a chance to run, and she found a sudden joy in the feel of her feet pounding against the cobblestones. The sensible part of her mind knew she should turn back straight away, but she could not bring herself to stop. What lay ahead surely seemed more promising than what was waiting behind.
As vivid yet highly impossible escape plan forming in her mind, Eve ran down Diagon Alley, weaving in and out of the busy crowds of holiday shoppers. A few stopped to stare, she knew she must be a sight darting through the streets in her best dress, her dark hair falling from its ornate bun and blowing wildly in the wind.
She barely avoided a woman and her flock of children, but slammed hard into a dark figure coming out of Flourish and Blotts. She let out a small cry of surprise, and lurched forward to try and catch her balance. The stranger was knocked flat on his back, a small pile of books flying from his arms and landing in the puddles of slush around them.
"I'm so sorry." Eve said quickly, her face red from more than just the cold now.
She offered a gloved hand to the stranger, who looked up at her through strings of dark black hair. There was a moment of awkward silence, and Eve glanced over her shoulder, hoping her grandmother hadn't followed her. She was guessing that she wouldn't, at least not yet anyway.
"You don't want my help then?" Eve said, crinkling her nose as she smiled.
Her grandmother had once told her that her smile could melt ice, but then again her grandmother had told her many things.
He ignored her outstretched hand, and struggled to his feet alone. He nearly fell again when his foot slipped on a patch of ice, and he grudgingly accepted her arm when she reached out to steady him.
"You've ruined my books." He said, in a biting tone. "And my robes are soaked."
She glanced at his threadbare and worn robes, and felt her face grow warm. She felt bad thinking it, but she hoped they weren't his only pair.
Ignoring her gaze of guilt and pity, he bent down and tried to save a few books from their watery graves, but their pages were already soggy and water logged. Eve did the same, and then held the dripping books out to him, almost as a peace offering. He didn't take from her.
"Can't you repair them?" Eve said. "I know a spell if you like."
A tall wizard coming out of the front door shoved Eve back down into the street, and she gave a little shout of protest.
"They were very rare and fragile." The boy said flatly, not moving to help her back up onto the sidewalk. "I don't want you touching them."
Not expecting this frosty response, she responded by inching closer so they both fit under the window awning, as if closing the distance between them would cure his frigid demenor. The stranger made no move to back away, but glared at her with such intensity that at once she remembered who he was.
"I know you!" Eve suddenly exclaimed, leaning closer to get a better look at his face. "You're that one I see hovering around Sirius Black and that Potter boy all the time, right? The one who knows all of those spells?"
"I don't hover around them!" He snapped, scowling miserably at her. "And it's none of your business who I am."
"Snape isn't it?" Eve went on jovially, ignoring him. "I'm in your year as well, I'm in Ravenclaw."
Severus stared at her for a moment, as if heavily debating whether to continue the conversation or to hex her. She seemed intent enough on ignoring his cold glare, driven by an urge she could not quite explain. Curiosity finally winning out, he stepped further back under the awning out of the worst of the rain.
"Are you going to introduce yourself?" He said, sounding a bit less nasty than before.
"Eve Margot." She said brightly, ignoring his haughty tone.
She glanced nervously over her shoulder once more, hoping that her grandmother wouldn't catch her here and embarrass her.
At best she was probably still smoothing the Lestrange's ruffled feathers, and it could be ages before she sorted through that mess.
"Eve?" Severus said, testing the feel of the word in his mouth. "It's very plain, like you."
Eve was so taken aback that it took her a moment to be sure of what he had said. Truly, she was no great beauty, but surely not plain? She was a bit shorter than most girls her age, and her thin frame had none of the womanly curves she had so hoped for. She was pretty enough, though her pale complexion sometimes gave her thin face the sunken look of someone who has just been ill. Oh, how she hadwished for blond curly hair and plump rosy cheeks when she was a child. But what right did he have to call her plain? It was one thing to think it yourself, and quite another to have someone actually say it to you.
"I'm sorry." Eve said boldly before turning away. "But you're being incredibly rude."
She ducked back out into the stinging rain, and felt his eyes burn into her back as she strode away. She had not gotten very far before her grandmother's carriage pulled along side her, and the door flew open.
"Get in at once!" Her grandmother demanded in a gruff voice.
Eve continued walked for a moment, but knew better than to really disobey her. It was bad enough she had gone running out on her prospective husband, probably ruining any chance of a match. Though really, it had nearly driven her insane! All the talk of money and property, and not a single word of love? Of course, she had been raised knowing this day would come. The Margot's were a wealth family, and though much had been done to tarnish that name, wealth still stood for something. Her grandmother had made it her life's mission to see that she married well, as if that could undo all of the damage that had already been done.
"I'm sorry." Eve said at said, climbing up into the carriage like a boy.
She flung herself and wet skirts onto her grandmother, cradling her head in her soft fragrant lap. The old woman might have appeared thin and frail, but she was as strong as a dragon.
"Have you lost your mind girl?" Grandmother demanded, tugging hard on Eve's ear but at the same time stroking her damp forehead.
Eve sniffled, and could not hold back a wave of hot tears from spilling down her cheeks.
"Honestly Eve." Her Grandmother continued, slapping her on the top of the head, though not too hard. "Do you have any idea of a fool you made out of me? Running out like that, with not a word to me even...they probably thought you had gone mad. You are lucky that Mrs. Lestrange is quite intent that you should marry her son..."
"I don't want to marry Rabastan!" Eve cried, sinking down onto the floor of the carriage.
Her grandmother silenced her with a wave of her hand, and then seemed to think quietly for a moment before continuing.
"I didn't want to marry your grandfather either, but I grew to love him very much." Her grandmother reacher over and smoothed down Eve's wild hair as she spoke.
Eve looked up at this, slightly shocked. She had never known her grandfather, she had only been a baby when he had died. Her grandmother still spoke to his portrait every night before bed and every morning as well, and could not keep her eyes from welling with tears whenever she told stories of their years together.
"That's different though." She said slowly. "I know I could never love Rabastan. I despise him with a passion."
"Oh Eve!" Grandmother sighed. "You do everything with a passion. You approach everything with such love or hate, I become exhausted just watching you."
"How else am I supposed to feel." Eve protested, accepting a lace handkerchief and blowing her nose into it.
"You're seventeen, it is high time you learned some moderation and self-control." Grandmother went on, though there was little force behind her words. "I've coddled you entirely too much. Nothing is decided anyway. But do try and be a bit more sensible. You know I would never do anything that wasn't good for you."
Eve sat up beside her grandmother, and rested her head on her shoulder. It was only then that she noticed that two thin books were still clutched in her left hand, dripping cold water down onto her already soaked skirt.
"What are those dear?" Grandmother asked, noticing the books for the first time as well. "Did you do a little shopping during your escape?"
"No, I..." Eve began, not entirely sure how to put it. "They belong to a friend sort of. I accidently knocked him over in front of Flourish and Blotts, and ruined his books. Then he insulted me."
"Well, that's what you get for running around town like a little fool." Her grandmother said.
Her words were harsh, but her tone was still warm. Eve knew in her grandmother's eyes she could do little wrong.
"What should I do about the books then?" Eve said, opening one to find the pages stuck together with moisture. "He said they were very rare."
Grandmother reached over and took the books from her grasp, holding them at a length as if she found them particularly unpleasant. She pulled her wand out from her thick velvet cloak and murmured a familiar incantation.
"Dark arts..." She muttered, squinting at newly restored titles. "These are very rare indeed."
Eve looked over with renewed interest. She had little use for the dark arts herself, but there were quite a few people at school who thought it was all the rage. It was silly really, most of the spells were so complicated and so very severe that only a brave few would actually try them.
"I don't know what kind of friends you are keeping." Grandmother began, a hint of warning in her voice. "But in these times I would find it less than advisable to be seen with these sorts of things."
Eve nodded silently, understanding completely. They had all heard the rumors of course, of the death eaters, of the dark lord. There had been attacks as well, and strange visions in the sky. The children of respectable pureblood families, the friends that Eve had always known, had suddenly gone strange. It was as if they were all in on some big secret, one that they could only share with each other.
She took the books from her grandmothers hands, deciding that she would return them after the holidays. It was really none of her business what this Snape character was doing with them, and she surely wasn't going to take the bother to warn him. Why should it be her concern if he got himself into trouble. In fact, she would quiet content if she never had to lay eyes on him again.