Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.
Prologue
"Avada kedavra!"
A bolt of green light leapt from Beatrice's wand and slammed into the chest of the rearing dragon. The light flared in the eyes of the lizard for a good long moment as Beatrice held the wand steady, her eyes never leaving the dragon's form for an instant. As she broke the connection with her wand, the creature fell to the earth with a ground shaking thud. Beatrice never stumbled or broke eye contact with the dragon as she lowered her wand.
Children were crying, and sobbing all around her; the fire had burned itself out. A wind picked up the bits of burning grass and whirled them around the young witch as she stood glued to the spot staring at the dead dragon. Embers fell on her sleeves, burning holes through the fabric, searing skin and sending signals of pain to her brain. Beatrice still didn't move.
Suddenly her father came out of nowhere shouting her name.
"Beatrice! Are you hurt? What happened?"
He grabbed her and examined her to be certain that none of the holes in her robes led to dangerous bleeding injuries. He knelt looking into her face and then down to her wand hand. His eyes went to the dragon. He took her shoulder tightly and turned her eyes to look directly into his.
"Just tell me this, Beatrice," he said, "Was it absolutely necessary?"
"Yes, Dad," she answered faintly, "It was."
"Good," He removed the wand gently from her hand, prying the fingers back as she held it in a death grip.
She suddenly broke free and fell to her knees retching and choking. He held her hair as she vomited violently onto the ground, her slim body trembling. People were everywhere at once, running and shouting gathering the children in their arms. Aurors apparted out of the air and surrounded them in an instant. Harry spied them and came running.
"Let's get her out of here before the Ministry arrives," Harry said urgently.
Snape lifted Beatrice in his arms, his daughter suddenly much smaller than she had been a moment earlier. She buried her face in his robe, her face pale, eyes wide and haunted.
"Keep them off my trail for an hour," Snape barked, "I have to get her to a safe place."
"Take her to Azkaban," Harry suggested, "They'll never think to look for her there."
"I'll try," Snape answered. He cast one final look around the smoking field, and apparted away.
GrangerSnapeGrangerSnape
The next day the headlines run thusly;
Have you seen this witch?
Teenage witch uses unforgiveable curse and flees
Under the headline was a picture of Beatrice Granger-Snape, her narrow face pale, framed by jet black hair, but she was smiling and laughing a little. It was a school picture from her second year at Hogwarts. In the photo, Beatrice was nothing more than a happy little girl. Now, she was a convicted criminal on the run.