Jasmin flees France to escape a cruel foster father. She thinks she's running away from her past when she travels to England; little does she know, she's running straight into it.
Is Severus Snape really her father? What happened to her mother? And can she befriend the mysterious Harry Potter?
Set in Harry's 3rd year at Hogwarts. Romance not until much later. I try to start out with the original characters, but as the story progresses I will develop them according to my plot. Review please!
I'll generally update my story once a week, on Mondays probably.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood peacefully in the night sky, it's corridors silent and its beds empty.
For now.
After the customary beginning-of-school staff meeting, the professors had gathered in the Great Hall to enjoy their last quiet meal together. The students would be arriving tomorrow and another school year would begin.
BANG! BANG! BOOM!
Dumbledore looked up from his treacle tart, appearing mildly puzzled.
A moment later, Filch's voice could be heard, among with three other muffled voices. After what sounded like a scuffle, three figures appeared in the Great Hall, with Filch bobbing nervously behind them.
"They said they was Aurors," Filch said nervously, glaring at the visitors suspiciously, "An' that they have someone for Professor Snape."
A man with greasy, lank, black hair, sallow skin, a hooked nose, and impenetrable black eyes stood up, his expression grim. "If this is a matter concerning Ministry Aurors, I think it best if we conduct it in my office-"
"On the contrary, Severus," Dumbledore said cheerfully, "We can do it in my office. The five of us would not fit comfortably in your office at all." Snape glowered at Dumbledore before briefly inclining his head in assent. Dumbledore smiled and departed from the staff table with Snape.
The rest of the staff stared at the three visitors as they turned to follow Dumbledore. There were two men, one quite young and one middle-aged, both on either side of a young girl, who looked extremely displeased, to say the least. If the professors at the staff table had been closer, they would have noticed that the two wizards on either side of the girl were both gripping her upper arms quite tightly and that the older wizard has his wand at the ready in his hand. If Snape and Dumbledore thought this was odd, neither expressed it.
"Well, now that we are all settled in," Dumbledore said brightly, "I think we can begin. Kingsley, perhaps you could explain."
The girl was absolutely glowering at the man called Kingsley. When they'd entered the headmaster's office, she'd made a brief break for freedom and he had grabbed her around the middle and hauled her physically back into Dumbledore's office. He'd even blocked all of her attempts to overpower him. She was sure he had studied Muggle martial arts.
Kingsley smiled. "I think it would be best for Parker to explain, since he is who we owe Jasmin's presence to."
There was a moment of silence, then Parker's eyes widened. He glanced around nervously, clearly startled at being asked to explain something to Dumbledore. Snape rolled his eyes.
"Jasmin, here," Parker said nervously, ignoring the girl glowering at him, "Has finally been- um, apprehended by the Ministry."
"As if," Jas muttered.
Parker continued, ignoring her. "She has been flouting the law for quite some time. However, we recently made quite a significant discovery. We weren't sure what to do with someone so young who continually violated the laws- she is only twelve, you understand-"
"For the last time, it's Jas, not Jasmin!" the girl interrupted.
"-so we could hardly toss her in Azkaban for a month to straighten her out," Parker continued, clearly used to these interruptions by now. "So we thought we'd find a magical guardian for her."
Snape was giving the young man called Parker a very dubious look. "Excuse me," he said finally, clearly unable to restrain himself any longer, "But what could I possibly have to do with any of this, Parker?"
Parker looked even more nervous at Snape's icy tone. He looked at Kingsley pleadingly, who only smiled encouragingly at him. "Um, well, we made a discovery, like I said," Parker said, avoiding looking at Snape. "I mean, we found her father. Her real father."
There was a small silence in the room as everyone present worked out the implications of what Parker had just said.
"WHAT?" Jas howled, jumping up. "You didn't tell me that!"
Snape had gotten up too, but not as quickly. He did not raise his voice, but everyone heard what he said perfectly clearly. "I hope you understand the gravity of what you are suggesting, Mr. Parker," Snape growled.
"I-I do," Parker stuttered. He had hated Potions while he was a Hogwarts student and the Potions Master still had the power to intimidate him, even though he had left Hogwarts years ago. "It's just a simple test- and we're quite sure-"
"Oh, well, by all means, if the Ministry of Magic is quite sure, than all of my fears have been put to rest," Snape snarled, his voice heavy with sarcasm.
"Severus," Dumbledore said mildly.
Jas stared at the greasy-haired man appraisingly.
Snape sat down, although his glare did not leave Parker.
"I think," Dumbledore continued, "That a test is in order, am I correct?"
Parker nodded, tearing his eyes away from Snape and looking at Dumbledore.
"Exactly what sort of test?" Jas demanded, slowly inching away from the four wizards who had been talking about her as if she was not in the room. It was a habit adults had that annoyed her to no end.
Dumbledore smiled at Jas. "Muggles would call it a paternity test," he said, rather thoughtfully.
"And what would wizards call it?" Jas asked, still carefully edging closer to the door. She was almost close enough to make it if she timed her run carefully-
"Jasmin, get back here now," Kingsley barked.
She stopped and glared at him. "Jas. Jas. Jas. Jas. Jas. Jas. Jas!"
He rolled his eyes. "You realize the door is locked and, without your wand, you cannot unlock it?"
She scowled.
"Now sit down," he ordered.
She wondered briefly if he was bluffing about the door. It wouldn't matter anyway, she decided; now that everyone in the room was staring at her she wouldn't have much a chance of escaping, at any rate. She stalked back over to her seat and sat down with an exasperated huff.
"Wizards consider the test a blood spell, which makes it very dangerous magic, but it is safe if wielded by the right witch or wizard," Dumbledore continued, as if there had been no interruption.
Jas frowned. This did not seem right. She would much rather rely on a Muggle paternity test than some abstract spell that no one was supposed to use anyway. "I thought blood spells were dark magic?" she inquired cautiously.
"They generally are. But the particular blood spell I am going to use does not qualify as dark magic, given the manner in which I choose to use it," Dumbledore explained.
Parker looked uncomfortable. "Dumbledore- I actually meant that we were going to do a Muggle paternity test- I've got the needles and everything-"
Snape looked affronted. "A Muggle paternity test?" he hissed. "Is there no end to the indignity?"
Parker flushed. "Well, the Ministry doesn't strictly approve of any other test after the Highman incident-"
"Well," Dumbledore interjected gently, "If I were to perform a Blood Binding Spell on both Severus and young Jasmin and the results were clear, would everyone in this room find the evidence sufficient?"
Everyone slowly nodded. Snape looked pleased. He clearly did not think any such test would prove him to be anyone's father.
"Excuse me," an irritated voice snapped from a chair off to the side, "But I haven't agreed. What exactly is a Blood Binding Spell and what do you mean, if the evidence is sufficient?"
Everyone turned their attention back to the irritable girl who was now slumped down in her chair so far that she was scowling blackly at her knees.
"Ah," Dumbledore said graciously, "Forgive me, Jasmin. I forgot you may not know. A Blood Binding Spell is a spell that takes blood from outside a human's body and binds and purifies the blood so that it may be injected back into the body. Obviously, injecting ones blood back into their body is very dangerous magic indeed, and we will not be doing any of that. However, one of the Blood Binding Spell's side effects is that if two pools of blood are mixed together in such a way that is impure than the blood will refuse to mix- in other words, the spell will not contaminate pure blood with contaminated blood."
Jas stared blankly at Dumbledore. What?
"So," Dumbledore continued, "It was discovered hundreds of years ago, before the advent of Blood Replenishing Potions, that the relatives of an injured witch or wizard could aid that witch or wizard by supplying them with blood through use of the Blood Binding Spell and other spells that would force the bound blood back into the body. Only immediate family could be of any use, however, since the Blood Binding Spell would refuse to recognize family members any further removed. It was originally thought that the spell only worked with pureblood witches and wizards, but that was just part of the prejudice of the time. It actually works with immediate family members of any magical family. Incidentally, it does not work well with Muggles, even if they are a witch's or wizard's immediate family."
Jas frowned. That didn't make sense at all.
"So, when I perform the Blood Binding Spell, if Severus is not your father, than the blood should refuse to mix. If he is, then the blood should bind without a problem." Dumbledore said this brightly, as if all was well and he was not discussing mixing people's blood.
"But- but," Jas spluttered, "How does that work? Immediate family members' blood types aren't the same- at least not necessarily- that doesn't make the slightest bit of sense-"
"Oh, but it does, Jasmin," Dumbledore reassured her. "You see, in magic, the ancient ties of love and family are very strong. It is perhaps the most ancient magic that exists. So for a wizard to give his immediate family member his own blood is a powerful restorative indeed. A very dangerous act, I might add, but powerful."
Jas blinked. Perhaps it was best to not to try to understand. "So we just need to see that the blood doesn't mix and then I can leave?" she asked uncertainly.
"Well, if the blood doesn't mix, then you are most certainly not Severus' daughter, in which case I cannot see why you would stay," Dumbledore replied cheerfully.
Jas frowned. That was not really an answer.
"If we could get on with this, please," Snape drawled, sounding bored.
Jas glanced at the man warily. On the off chance that the dunderheads at the Ministry had actually gotten something right for once in their lives, she did not foresee a very happy existence with this man. He did not seem to want a daughter. She fervently hoped that the blood did not mix.
"Very well, Severus," Dumbledore agreed.
The wizard stood up and walked towards Jasmin. She straightened in her seat as the realization hit her-
"Where exactly is my blood going to come from?" Jas asked in alarm. And, she added silently, how much was he planning on using?
Snape snorted. "I thought that would be obvious, even to a foolish child like you."
"Call me that again," Jas snarled, scowling blackly at him. Snape looked at her and a disturbed expression crossed his face. Jas smirked, wondering if she'd successfully scared him.
For anyone who knew the slightest bit about Severus Snape, it would be obvious that this was not the case.
"My, my," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "Quite the temper you've got there, Jasmin. Now, I will be taking blood from your arm with my wand tip. I will not take very much at all, I assure you. Taking large amounts of blood from a witch or wizard is generally not a wise idea. It sometimes rebels."
Jas was left to ponder these words as Dumbledore crouched down near her and carefully lowered his wand to her forearm that he had grasped in his hand. Jas flinched as a sharp, white-hot pain hit her arm and watched, somewhat horrified, somewhat intrigued, as a strand of oddly glimmering substance arose from her arm. It changed so rapidly she was not certain it could even be blood. At first it was purple, then red, then it glowed faintly silver. Dumbledore hung it carefully in the air and crossed the room to do the same to Snape. Jas stared at the silvery thread suspended in air in disbelief. She was certain it was not good that witches and wizards could move their own blood around like this.
Snape's expression did not so much as flicker as Dumbledore withdrew the blood from his forearm, and Jas thought it unfair that he had known it was going to hurt and hadn't even warned her. And he wassupposed to be her father? Or perhaps, she thought worriedly, he was just stoic enough to not be bothered by pain.
She could not decide which possibility was more worrying.
Dumbledore hovered the two strands of blood in the air next to each other and then carefully raised his wand and murmured a long string of Latin that Jas could neither understand nor hear. She wondered vaguely how she would ever know if this was just some horrible set up. If the test turned out to be true, she resolved to get a Muggle paternity test as soon as time allowed for it. And as soon as she could get close enough to her supposed-father to yank a greasy strand out of his head.
Dumbledore stopped murmuring and the two strands of blood suddenly both glowed a bright golden color. Jas was wondering if they would perhaps go through the entire color palette before they did anything useful, when the two strands leapt together to form one glowing, golden mass.
Oh, no, Jas thought.
There was silence in the room. Snape opened his mouth several times, but no words came out. Jas was glaring at the mass in the center of the room, thinking rather petulantly that it seemed unlikely that she would ever get her blood back now.
"Well," Dumbledore finally said, breaking the silence, "It seems the results are clear. From here, I think it would be prudent to resume the conversation we were having about Jasmin and her troubles with the Ministry."
Oh, no, Jas thought again.
"Er- right," Parker agreed, casting a nervous look at Snape, who was, like Jas, staring blankly at the glowing golden mass, though Jas suspected his thoughts were very different from hers.
"I was saying that we wanted a guardian for her so someone would be responsible for what she has done-"
This seemed to snap Snape out of his daze. "Excuse me," he said, his voice every bit as icy as it had been before, although he looked quite a bit paler than he had been, "I will not be held responsible for something that- this girl- did whilst she was not even in my care."
Parker coughed. "I, um, understand your complaint, sir, but she is your daughter and she has caused a considerable amount of property damage-"
It wasn't that bad, honestly, Jas thought exasperatedly.
Snape was glaring at Parker in a very unpleasant way. "If she does any further property damage from henceforth, you may hold me personally responsible, although I can assure you-" his eyes found Jas' and glared into them threateningly, "-that no such thing will ever happen again."
Jas slunk down in her seat again. She rather preferred it when adults ignored her, now that she thought about it.
"Well…" Parker hemmed, quailing under Snape's glare, "I think that will be sufficient…"
Jas could not suppress a certain feeling of awe for a man who could intimidate another so easily. Even if it was Parker, who she thought was a bit of a wet weed. The back of her mind pointed out that she would likely be the next subject of his intimidation and very, very soon.
She ignored it.
Kingsley suddenly rose. "You're a man of your word, Snape," Kingsley said easily, "So if we can expect no more trouble out of Jasmin, then the past is the past."
Parker looked slightly betrayed, although he slowly rose to join Kingsley.
"Parker will send you the Ministry reports on what exactly happened," Kingsley continued, "We should probably be going. It was good seeing you, Dumbledore, Snape." The wizards nodded at each other respectfully.
Kingsley turned to Jas. "Behave yourself," he said firmly. She scowled at him and rolled her eyes, still annoyed with him for dragging her back into Dumbledore's office. To her alarm, she noticed that her supposed-father was glaring at her rather malevolently. She slunk down lower in her seat. She would need to get that Muggle paternity test as soon as possible.
"Jasmin," an icy voice said, "It is customary to respond politely to an adult when he or she speaks to you."
Jas turned her head to glare at her supposed-father over the armrest of her chair. Was he really trying to order her around in his first sixty seconds of fatherhood? Where had he been the last twelve years? She would show him.
With perhaps a great deal more bravado than she actually felt, Jas said indifferently, "Make me."
Kingsley coughed. "Ah, well, we'll be going now." Kingsley quickly left, followed by Parker, who hurried behind him after throwing a frightened glance over his shoulder. Jas was so distracted by their hasty exit she did not immediately notice what they were alarmed by. She swiveled her head around and jumped more than a little when she turned to see a very angry wizard towering over her chair. Jas vaguely wondered how he moved so silently.
"Come," he hissed, his face taut and his voice dangerously low.
Jas was beginning to think that perhaps this man was not someone she should have crossed. She threw a pleading look at Dumbledore, who only smiled benevolently at her. "I'm sure you two have- ah, much to talk about," he said cheerfully, as if her supposed-father was not about to murder her, "So I will see you tomorrow, Jasmin."
She wondered if there would be anything left of her by tomorrow.
Jas got up slowly and followed her supposed-father out of the room, down the swivel staircase, through many corridors, and down yet even more staircases, which, Jas noted with no little alarm, seemed to randomly move. She filed this fact away for later examination and hurried to keep up with her supposed-father, who was walking so quickly that Jas had to jog to keep up. She briefly considered running away, then dismissed the idea. She would likely die of hunger before she found an exit.
She was growing more and more alarmed as every minute passed, particularly when she realized that he was leading her deeper into the dungeons of the castle. Was he going to lock her up? Chain her up by her ankles? She tried in vain to remember the Muggle literature she'd read on castle dungeons-
"In," Snape snarled, wrenching open a door.
Jas hurried inside. Anger seemed to render him monosyllabic. Perhaps that was a good thing. He could not yell at her this way.
She walked into the room and stopped short, looking about in alarm. There were jars of a variety of terrifying-looking things, from what looked like pickled eyes to something that looked horrifyingly like a human brain.
"Sit," a cold voice breathed from behind her and Jas jumped as the door to the room slammed shut.
She was now wondering how the Ministry could just leave her in the care of a man without even bothering to ask her if she was okay with it- what if he was a serial killer? She vaguely remembered Kingsley saying something about her supposed-father being as good as his word. Did that mean they knew each other? Was this some plot?
She would definitely have to get that paternity test as soon as possible.
Jas sat down in the only other chair in the room besides the one behind the large, black desk. It was hard, uncomfortable, and incredibly difficult to slouch in comfortably.
Her supposed-father did not sit. He chose to tower over her, glaring at her. She rather thought this method of intimidation was a bit too obvious but, to her dismay, it was effective. She suspected if this man glared at a teapot for long enough, the teapot would simply melt away. Despite her best attempts, she found herself slouching, even though it put a horrible crick in her neck, just to put distance between herself and the man's glare. She stared steadily at the air in front of her, willing herself to not fidget.
"So," the man said icily. "There is no denying that you are my daughter."
Well, when he put it like that, it rather sounded like he wished there was a way to deny it. She would like to inform him that she was none too pleased to discover that he was her father; that, in fact, she was still not entirely convinced of this and would not be until she got the results back from the Muggle paternity test she was planning on performing. As soon as she got a bit of his hair. Which she was beginning to think would be about as easy to steal as a dragon's egg.
She may never definitively find out who her father was.
"And you have henceforth been turned over to my care. I expect the papers and other official documents will arrive shortly. Undoubtedly, the Ministry did not expect this matter to be resolved so quickly, so the Aurors were not fully prepared. Which brings me to my next point: you are clearly not in the habit of respecting authority."
Jas couldn't really argue with that one. She stayed silent.
"This will have to change. It will change whether you want it to or not. I am your father, I will soon be your professor, and you will respect and obey me. You will respect and obey all authority figures unless I expressly tell you not to. You are a child, and a foolish one at that. You have absolutely no right to make any decisions more important than what you will be eating for breakfast."
She was beginning to think she would not get along very well with her supposed-father. She hoped she would not be anywhere near him when he received the papers from the Ministry detailing all of her illegal activity. And that was just what the Ministry had noticed…
"And perhaps even that is a decision you are not qualified to make," her supposed-father added derisively, eyeing her in an unpleasant way. Jas scowled at him, glancing up at his face for the first time. She was small for her age. What did he expect for an orphan? It was difficult to remain well-fed. Especially if you happened to be an orphan with criminalist tendencies. Jas studied her supposed-father's face, wondering if they bore any resemblance to each other. It was hard to tell, really, without knowing what her mother looked like. Jas had long, jet-black, wavy hair, a dark complexion, and dark eyes. People often asked her if she was Italian, Mexican, Indian, Native American, or perhaps Hawaiian, since her complexion was so dark. Jas now realized she had the opportunity to discover which it was.
"Who was my mum? What ethnicity was she?" Jas asked eagerly. It had always bothered her that she had not been able to answer this question. She'd begun simply lying and telling everyone that she was Hawaiian, since it sounded cool, and because saying that she didn't know what she was tended to garner strange looks.
Her supposed-father- perhaps she would just nickname him SF; it would, after all, be quite awkward to call him dad- looked a bit taken aback. He apparently had more to add to his scary you-will-obey speech. "Your mother," he began, than paused.
A thought struck her. "You do know who she is, don't you?" Jas demanded. She now wondered how in the name of Merlin's beard the Aurors had ever figured out that Snape was her father. No one else had been able to figure that out in the last twelve years- including Snape, apparently. Although Jas was still not convinced of this fact, even if Snape was.
Of course, she'd lived with Muggles for the first ten years of her life, and you couldn't really expect them to work out things like that. They didn't have creepy Blood Binding Spells, after all.
SF turned his glare on full blaze once again. "Of course I know who your mother is," he snapped, looking annoyed. "Her name was Andrea Scott. I believe she was from Italian descent, although she was born in England and married an Englishman-"
"Married an Englishman? As in, not you?" Jas interrupted, enticed by the drama. She was slightly disappointed to not be Hawaiian, but being Italian was nearly as good.
"No, not me," SF snapped, looking even more annoyed.
"Is she alive too?" Jas asked hopefully. Perhaps she could convince everyone she'd be better off with her mother, if she so happened to be alive.
"She's dead," SF said shortly. Jas suppressed a sigh of disappointment. She had briefly entertained the idea that her mother might still be alive, since her father was. She had always been told her parents had died in a house fire from which she'd been the only survivor. After learning of the magical world when she was ten, she had assumed her parents were both Muggles- after all, what sort of witch or wizard died in a house fire? Was her mother a Muggle? Where had Snape been?
"How did I wind up with the Muggles, then? Was Mum a Muggle? Why didn't you know about me?" Jas was gazing at SF rather suspiciously. Her mother must have either really hated SF or she'd had a very good reason for not wanting him to know he'd gotten her pregnant. Although, Jas reasoned, perhaps she had thought Jas was someone else's kid. Or maybe, she thought with horror, she had wanted to pretend Jas was someone else's kid- what if her mother had already married this Englishman when SF came along?
SF was glaring at her in an unnerving way. Jas felt the urge to defend herself. "I'm allowed to be curious about my mum, aren't I?" she demanded.
SF continued glowering at her. "No, your mother was not a Muggle. I am sure your mother took the course of action that she thought best for everyone involved. Now, if we can return to the original subject. Do you understand what I have told you?"
About my mum? Perfectly. I'm not allowed to know, Jas thought bitterly. She glared into the dark, tunnels of SF's eyes and noted that hers were precisely the same as his. They even had the same flecks of hazel in them that hers did. This was more unnerving than the glare he was delivering her. She comforted herself with the thought that it was very possible that she had her mother's eyes; Italians had very dark eyes, after all.
"No, you have my eyes," SF said, rather smugly.
Jas jumped and looked at him incredulously. She was certain she hadn't spoken aloud. Could SF read minds? That would make plotting against him considerably more difficult. She made a mental note to immediately research all methods of reading minds. It really was a pity she'd been raised by Muggles; she was ignorant of far too much in the wizarding world.
Of course, maybe she was being ridiculous. There was really no evidence to indicate that SF could read minds. They'd been staring into each other's eyes and he'd said that she had his eyes. Was that really so surprising? Granted, the no he had placed before the statement was a bit odd, given her own train of thoughts, but it could most likely be explained in a manner that did not involve a magical method of mind reading.
Jas felt a bit better after this.
"I asked you a question," SF growled.
Jas blinked, momentarily lost. A question about what? Oh. "Yes, I understand," she said. That much was true. She understood the words he had spoken, she wasn't stupid. But would she obey him and any other authority figure he deemed appropriate?
Over her cold, dead body.
Jas looked up at the man hovering over her and asked, "Do you have any food? I'm starving." She hoped he did not use food as a form of punishment. Some of her foster parents had done that- although she had secretly suspected they just wanted to save money on the grocery bill- and she had just come up with ingenuous, usually illegal, and often immoral ways to obtain food. And, in the end, she had just wound up scrawny.
SF sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger. Jas watched with interest. That was usually something adults did when they were becoming exasperated with someone they viewed as being beneath them; namely, children. Jas was not a child, but she did find it interesting that she had already exasperated SF.
Still pinching the bridge of his nose, he flicked his wrist and a plate of sandwiches along with a jug of pumpkin juice appeared on his desk. Jas had to admit, she was impressed. He had undoubtedly summoned it from somewhere but, still, that was wandless and non-verbal magic. As she happily pulled her chair closer to his desk so she could eat properly, she revisited her previous hypothesis that she should perhaps not cross this man. She then reasoned that this would simply be impossible, since he was- or maybe was, pending the results of her future Muggle paternity test- her father and had the annoying idea that he could he could set all sorts of rules for her. This idea would have to be stamped out of him. Jas simply did not abide by the rules. Not that it really mattered. All of the adults she had dealt with in her life had either not been bothered to enforce any rules on her or had tried to enforce so many that they had never effectively enforced any rules.
The sandwiches were good. They were filled with layers of ham, turkey, and chicken and stuffed full with vegetables. Jas decided Hogwarts must have house elves- well, of course they had house elves. She had remembered reading somewhere that there was only one wizarding school that operated entirely without house elves and that was in America somewhere.
"Have you been fasting for months?" Snape said dryly from the other side of the desk. He had sat down and begun reading while she ate.
Jas frowned at him. "I'm hungry," she said shortly. Was that not obvious? Jas wondered if this man deliberately tried to provoke people. A few moments ago he had sneered at her for being too thin. Now he was complaining that she was eating too much?
"Yes, well, all hunger aside, there is no need to eat so quickly. You'll choke or be sick or both and I don't care to deal with the aftermath," SF informed her coldly.
Jas coughed. She'd only eaten two sandwiches… in about three minutes. "It's only been a week, actually," she informed him brusquely, picking up her third sandwich. He really was a kind, loving, caring sort of father. She was lucky to have landed him, really, what so many other children- not that she was a child- her age wouldn't give to have-
"A week of what?" SF said irritably, not looking up from his book.
"A week of fasting," Jas replied. She laid down the remains of her third sandwich. She was not queasy, as SF had predicted, but tired. She wondered with vague alarm of where she would be sleeping in this gigantic castle. "Er, where am I going to be sleeping?" she asked awkwardly. If SF said 'my bed', she would run away screaming.
"In my quarters, for now, I expect," SF said slowly, sounding reluctant at the very idea. "Dumbledore has added on a room for you." He turned a Death Glare on Jas. "But you are not, under any circumstances, to reveal the location of my quarters to anyone. Not students, not staff, not outsiders with no connections to Hogwarts- no one. Do you understand?"
"Er- yes," Jas said hesitantly, now wondering if she wanted to go into his quarters if they were that incredibly private. She could always sleep in the corridor, after all, even thought it was quite drafty. A few blankets and well-placed warming charms and she would be comfortable enough. Although she certainly wouldn't be able to sleep- not in a corridor in the dungeons of a magical castle. But that was besides the point.
She yawned widely. Jas wondered if SF could be persuaded to put his book away before she fell asleep in this uncomfortable chair that was bound to give her a crick in her neck from even thinking about sleeping in it. After a few moments, SF was still reading. Jas contemplated her options. She could simply curl up on the floor- she suspected it would be more comfortable than her chair- and let him take that as a subtle hint that she was tired. Of course, Jas had the inkling that SF would not approve of this. Normally, this would only encourage her, but since she was tired, she did not feel like provoking an argument.
"So can you show me where my bed is then?" Jas asked. "I'm tired."
SF slowly looked up from his book. He looked annoyed. Jas glared back at him. She wondered if she would actually have a bed or if her room was just a broom closet with chains on the wall. SF rolled his eyes for inexplicable reasons and got up, his chair scraping the stones of the dungeon floor. He turned to face the south wall of his office, raised his wand, and muttered a string of words Jas could not understand. Interestingly, the blank stone wall began to shift and move, until a door was revealed. Snape tapped the door with his wand and muttered some more. Finally, the door opened and he gestured for Jas to follow.
She did, her mouth hanging open slightly. What did he keep in here that he needed to have so many spells on the place? Dragon's eggs? A unicorn? The Sorcerer's Stone? Jas watched somewhat regretfully as the stones fell back into place and then the door slammed shut. She was now trapped with SF. She could only pray that her brain wouldn't become a part of his collection of pickled specimens.
They were standing in a spacious sitting room, with almost every wall of the room lined with bookshelves that held hundreds of books. There was a hearth on the north side of the room, with a few couches and chairs scattered around it. A small table with four chairs around it stood on the other side of the room. Jas had expected there to be more stone floor in SF's quarters but, instead, they were standing on warm, cozy green carpet. She looked at it curiously. SF did not seem to be a warm, cozy person- what was he doing with that carpet?
SF strode through the sitting room, his cloak billowing behind him. Jas hurried after him, still looking around curiously. SF led her into a corridor off the sitting room. There was a door at the end of the corridor, a door on the right and a door on the left.
SF jerked his head to the left. "That's my room, that's your room," he said, jerking his head to the right. "There are bathrooms connected to each."
"What's the other door?" Jas asked curiously.
SF delivered her another unpleasant glare. "That is my Potions workroom. You may never enter that room. Trust me, I will find out if you try to do so in my absence."
Jas trusted him on this. She had just seen the man cast more spells on the entrance to his chambers than she had on her vault in Gringotts. She wandered down the corridor and gasped the handle to the door on the right.
She yelped and jumped back rubbing her hand. The door had just shocked her. She glared accusingly at SF. This had to be his doing.
SF was glowering as well, although his anger did not seem focused on her, for a change. He strode over to the door, opened it, then slammed it shut. "Your room," he said through clenched teeth, "Is on the left, actually."
Jas considered mentioning that if he was going to put traps on the entrances to his rooms, the least he could do is tell her the right room to go into. She decided not to. He looked far too annoyed and she really did want to get to sleep at some point. She crossed the narrow corridor and warily put her hand on the doorknob to the other door. To her relief, it did not attack her. She opened it and stepped in.
She stared. The room was decorated in creams and golds, with a large four-poster bed situated in the middle and dark mahogany furniture scattered around the room. Jas was impressed. Not only did she have her own room, it was undeniably elegant. She promptly decided that Dumbledore was an ally worth having. Jas took off her shoes and fell asleep almost immediately after her head touched the pillow.