A/N Got this weird idea after reading a fic... I don't know. Give it a shot and let me know what you think.

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And part of that is, what is the point of having children if you don't have the privilege of bringing them up? - Bob Geldot

Who Is This Man, Mother?

Chapter 1

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The boat seemed rickety, unsafe, and the young raven-haired girl kept peering over the edge of it. She was more preoccupied with the dangerous structure than the castle looming in front of her, or the curiosity of every student next to her, behind her, and even the brother in front of her. Her little eyes glared above the edge and into the depthless waters; she patted down her wild hair, her mind frantic and incomprehensible. Without notice, the boy with similar features, the same colored hair, the same nerves fluttering about in his stomach – only he was better at hiding them, reached behind to his sister. His hand gripped her calve protectively, it was an anchor of safety and peace-of-mind for them both. For if either were to fall, the other would catch them; or possibly make a fool of themselves if they fell in, too. The latter seemed much more likely.

In amazement, the young girl stared above her at the scarcely bothered moon, the stars; before it was all hidden by the reflections of lights. She sat back carefully in her seat, making precarious preparations not to tip the boat. Her arms were spread out beside her for balance – she was called a klutz for a reason – and she let her eyes wander and size up the ever-growing abode.

With a shudder, the transportation paused and then stopped completely at the edge of the large embankment. No one moved for a moment, and then... chaos. Every student tried to leap at once, tried to push each other off or at least stand without feeling queazy.

The large man – Hagrid, worked his best at organizing the mess of pupils. His gruff voice overran the chatter of the children. He was big but his voice had to be twice his size. It echoed off the Scottish mountain ranges, bouncing between peaks, and returning to their ear-drums. The young girl winced as she stepped over the sides of the wooden boat, ancient, most likely; her brother's hand in hers to keep her from slipping and falling into the water. She stopped to watch what was said from the giant; one foot on ground, the other in the swiftly rocking craft. She pulled herself onto solid ground slowly, so as not to gain the attention of the man. Her brother smirked.

"If ya' would, follow me." In coordinated groups of different years, they followed the giant man up the steep and rocky hill to the large, intimidating, and dangerous castle above.

It probably only felt that way to her.

"It's a beauty, 'aint it?" A boy next to her asked, elbowing her lightly in the side to gain her attention. She smiled shyly, nodded once, and squinted her eyes lazily to see what he was staring at. She nodded again in confirmation a second later. She guessed he'd been talking about the entirety of it all.

"It is."

"Indeed."

Both siblings spoke at once. The boy was perturbed but grimaced to himself, looking over, and then back up ahead. "The name's Creevey, Alvin Creevey." He told them, extending one hand out to the girl beside him.

She ignored his hand, her and her brother's eyes still on the castle. All that could be heard for the time being was Hagrid's deep voice, a few talking students, and the sounds of their breathing in the still air. The crickets in the background were being oddly silent with the nearing of the petulant children. She sighed, the girl looked to her left at the curious boy; his eyebrows raised and with a small smile on his lips, he questioned her again. "What's your name?"

"Adhra Minerva-" She was interrupted.

"-Nemo-"

"-It's Kieran, actually." Adhra said smartly on behalf of her brother, seeming to ignore the interruptions between him and herself. "He only likes to be called Nemo."

Alvin frowned, looking over his shoulder "Huh, yeah, well, it was a pleasure; hopefully we'll get placed into the same house..." With a nod to each of them and a repetition of their names – so he wouldn't forget, he ran forward to meet a few others.

Kieran leaned down to whisper quietly in his sister's ear, once Alvin was far enough out of sight, "No doubt he thinks us odd. I bet he went to warn people..." She nodded, turning to look up at him – he was two inches taller. Already 5 feet 2 inches at only 11, (his voice was another thing that hit before puberty; it seemed to be the deepest voice any kid her age had ever heard) his sister came up to his nose, and therefore always looked up to him. Not in just that one way, either; since he was born first. Even if it was only by twenty minutes, it still counted, right? Yes.

"Yes, yes, I believe you're right." They stopped at the gates and she stood on her toes to see the boy, Alvin, speedily chatting with another one, a familiar red-head with freckles, green eyes, and glasses.

All they could do now was wait.

The whole process went with vigor on Hagrid's part. He was getting annoyed with the batch of first years, hoping beyond hope that they would mature in their days here. If not, they were in for many late night detentions and loss of house points. He grumbled softly, wiping his hands on his trousers and smoothing the hair out of his eyes.

He looked around sullenly, waiting for professor McGonagall to come and remove them from his large and overly-capable hands. And that's when – while looking frantically for another presence to appear – he was met with dark and piercing eyes. A two pair, for if he looked close enough, there were two of the dear children. Why, he'd only ever seen eyes like those on one other man...

"Hagrid," A pleasant voice spoke from behind, patting his arm and rounding about him. McGonagall smiled and shooed him away with a couple words of gratitude, absently spoken as she looked over at the new generation of Hogwarts students.

He turned back as he was striding indignantly towards the entrance of the school - those eyes were something special. And he'd be darned if he hadn't realized it.

"Alright children, calm down." Minerva McGonagall stood, perched on the platform of one of the two gargoyles that lead up to the school. She wore a golden robe, a maroon colored hat, and a fierce glare for any first year unwilling to remain silent. "If you'd please, come with me."

There were snide remarks; "I don't please to go with you!" But all the twins' did were roll their eyes; they were accustomed to school, to wizardry, magic, to this world in general. Whereas some weren't, understandably –

At least they were better well behaved.

"I expect good manners, and even better behavior. Am I understood?" Professor McGonagall questioned serenely, calmly but piercingly all the same. She received miniscule nods of acquiescence. "Very well." And with those words spoken none the harsher, she opened the large – and surprisingly silent – doors to the dinner hall. Or more appropriately named, the "Great Hall."

The professor strode in with high authority, making the students feel small and pathetic in her wake. They stumbled forward, unappreciative of the stares of every other student in which, whom they'd sat with on the express train. If they were not mistaken, the Hall seemed to vibrate with fits of laughter and maniacal clapping from student body and some teachers alike.

Adhra stared unabashedly at the long table in front, her eyes wandered over faculty; all but one of them greeted warmly the bright, excited new faces. And when she looked closely, she and her new found friend, Alvin, saw her staring. He leaned over ungracefully, assuredly making work of prying her and her brother away. Kieran glared for a second, before noting where his sister's gaze lie.

"That's the potions professor. My parents warned me about him, said he was a right evil bloke." Adhra looked at the boy as the line of students stopped, nodding once at him in recognition of what he said. Then pointedly tried to ignore the dark, downtrodden man and the rest of their teachers, too. Instead she lay her gaze on the old and over-used wizard's hat placed near them on a stool. The Sorting Hat it was appropriately named.

"One-by-one I shall call you up," The stern woman commented loudly over side-conversations nearby. She stood in front of them all, centered stage and in blocking of the High Table.

And names were, indeed, called, ones that were familiar, some that were not. With your mother being friendly with almost every citizen in this world – albeit secretly so – you tend to learn a lot about people. Their names for instance, and some including the names of their children.

As she stood and waited, a few names stuck out to her.

"Potter, Baen Jayden."

A name she knew as she thought of him as a cousin. She flashed a smile towards the quivering, orange-haired boy she had seen, and not quite recognized, earlier.

"Weasley, Daniel Hadwin."

"Longbottom, Abigail."

More went on, pauses between each name as they were declared and sorted into one of the four houses. Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor. She couldn't tell her brother this, but she hoped to be sorted into Gryffindor. For obvious reasons her brother would scold her, he wanted Ravenclaw and possibly, one night he'd even declared Slytherin.

"We have to stick together, Addie, we can't be split apart when we've always been so close together. You're all I'm going to have when I'm there, and I'd bet you I'll be all you have, too."

She really doubted he would be compiled into Gryffindor with those "Brave and courageous go-getters." But she could hope.

Adhra listened closely for the beginning of her name, listened for another's heritable name who was so close to hers, she had to be next. But then, when that time was to come, she leaned forward and almost lost her balance where she stood; the professor hesitated.

Looking back at the High Table, McGonagall's posture was a bit rigid; in fact, so much that she almost seemed to have to stall and calm herself. Her fingers curled around the parchment and she cleared her throat uncomfortably. With a resigned sigh, she released her tension and waved away all doubts.

"Snape, Adhra Minerva."

Everyone went quiet, some audible snaps of jaws as they clamped shut mid-sentence. It was for this reason, the girl froze and didn't dare move. She didn't know what was wrong, something seemed off, everyone was hesitant. But slowly, she stepped forward and away from the clad perfect line.

A lone second later though, she saw the dark professor stand where he'd been scarcely trying to pay attention. His face was twisted in some unknown emotion; he tried to hide it as every eye in the room turned to him. But it must have been too strong for he placed his hands on the table and stared and seethed at the girl. His eyes seemed to declare an unreasonable amount of anger towards her.

Have I done something wrong?

She didn't know what to do, but gradually her muscles thawed and she continued her trek towards the stool, towards the watery eyed professor next to it, closer to the man that seemed to loath her. Sitting down ungracefully McGonagall put the hat atop Adhra's head slowly.

The first thing from its mouth made her jump: "Ah, a Snape." It had murmured in her head, and then repeated it out loudly for everyone to hear. "It's been years..."

"An heir of the professor, I assume?"

She didn't know what to say, so instead of looking foolish she nodded once, curiously. "Your father was in Slytherin as I'm sure you are aware." This time, slowly she shook her head.

"I knew no such thing."

"You don't sound excited; are you weary of that specific house? Or is it because of your father?" She was quiet, her eyes roaming over every student as their shocked wide eyes stared up at her. They seemed to look at her then cut over to the loudly heaving man. And then, she met her brother's eyes. They almost seemed to plead with her, then just as everyone else did, he looked over to the professor.

"I don't know." Was her brilliant response.

"Surely you do."

"I have no father – that man is not him."

"But he is, I am sure."

She ignored the comment. She was unsure of what to believe – what gave everyone the idea that she was his daughter? That her brother was his son? "What house have you decided for me?" She asked quietly, shyly lowering her head to stare at her hands. "Please not Slytherin."

He sighed, understanding her reluctance in some odd way. He yelled loudly and unceremoniously wiggled on the top of her head: "Gryffindor!"

She didn't notice the man with the dark hair, the professor with pale skin that matched her own, collapse back into his seat. "This can't be... it's not possible that she would be sorted into that damn awful house...if..." It was with a great relief that he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Poor girl, sharing a last name with the dreaded professor." He smile sardonically.

He shifted and watched her as she stumbled to the far table, he watched as she was greeted warmly by them all, but he couldn't stop his own groan as she grinned proudly, taking her seat next to a Creevey.

Minerva cleared her throat loudly and caught everyone's attention once more. She fixed her gaze on professor Snape for a short moment, looking at him oddly as he glared defensively at her. She looked down at the paper in her hands with a raised eyebrow. It was only a moment though, before her head snapped back up to scowl at him.

He was a bit unnerved.

"Snape, Kieran Severus."

Dammit

What do you think? Leave a review, they're nice to read and encourage an author to keep writing? Plus, they can get pretty addicting...

The names I picked for special meanings, here's the list in order.

Adhra – my apology

Nemo – no name, unknown, nothing

Kieran – Dark, dark-haired

Baen Jayden – fair skinned; grateful, thankful

Daniel Hadwin – Friend in time of war

Abigail – Loved by father

I got bored, decided to look up names with meaning... anyway

review