Not Quite so Stern Chapter 7, a harry potter fanfic

Not Quite so Stern

Summary: Severus, a masculine name meaning 'stern'. Canon shows a man who lives up to it. We know his story, the tragedy of life and love, loss and sacrifice, pain and pressure. This time, Eileen Snape gives birth to a baby girl. Will she do any better?

Note: And here I start to play with 'plot'. Reviews, comments, suggestions are fantastic, as always. Belated happy Christmas, and a merry New Year to everyone!

Chapter Seven

Antia slipped off the stool, and made her way down the dais to the Ravenclaw table. As Professor McGonagall had said, it was obvious which House was which; besides the color-coded House patches every student wore on their robes, the table whose House was called out also cheered the loudest. A boy waved her over, and she sat down. Glancing over at the Gryffindor table as she sat down, she caught Lily's eye, and they exchanged wide grins. Beside the redhead, James, Remus and Sirius waved.

"Hullo," the boy beside her said. "I'm Richard Pratchett. D'you mind me asking, are you a Pureblood?"

"Antia Prince," she said. "Yes, I am. Why do you ask?"

"I'm a Muggleborn, you see," Richard said, picking up his spoon and fiddling with it. "And, well, I don't really know anything about magic besides what Professor McGonagall showed my family, so…"

"You grew up with Muggles?" a girl to the side interrupted. "Oooh, really? What was that like?"

"Well," Richard said, taken aback. "I can't say. I mean, it's all I've known, as I said."

"Well, I'm Gloria Whittleton," she ran a hand through her long hair. "I'm a Pureblood, and my father always said that Muggles shouldn't be shown more magic than that – what the professors show them for Muggleborn enrolments, that is – because then the Muggles could take our magic and take over the Wizarding World."

"Um," Richard said.

In the background, Antia could just barely make out Headmaster Dumbledore's voice saying, 'Tuck in!'. Food appeared in heaping dishes, and people began to help themselves.

"I'm Matthew Burns," a boy Antia knew cut in. "And I don't think Muggles could take over the Wizarding World. They tried before, you know, the witch burnings, but the Flame Freezing Charm took care of that."

Then again, Antia thought as she carefully arranged her mashed potatoes, gravy-dripping roast beef, and steamed vegetables on her plate, the Flame Freezing Charm had been developed out of necessity. The need had existed before the charm did.

"Yes, but that was ages ago," Gloria argued. "And they've gotten loads better weaponry now than bonfires. Haven't you heard of World War Two? And those atomy bomb things? And naked-lear power!"

"You must mean nuclear power," Richard said, finally sounding sure of something. "And atom bombs. Well, when you put it that way, it really does sound possible. Muggles have tons of cool science, and they've got automated systems that could strike from thousands of miles away."

"Really?" a few older students, who had been listening in to the First Years' conversation, gasped. One of them choked on his mouthful of dinner, coughing out flecks of chewed up meat. The girl beside him slapped him on the back.

"Thousands of miles? But that's impossible, nobody could see that far," one of them said.

"They're automated," an older Muggleborn explained. "Meaning they've got robots and programs that do it automatically. They don't need to see that far, they've got satellites up in space to do that."

"Pass the beans, will you," one student said, "But we could take down satellites with a few dozen Locomotor spells. Or we could set fire to their headquarters."

"That's assuming they haven't gone up and put wards on their places," an older student piped up. "All it would take is one defecting warlock, and they could magic-proof everything. Apparition wards, wand wards, blood wards…"

Their section of the table lapsed into an uneasy silence, that was only broken by the rest of the school beginning to sing. Antia thought the song was ridiculous, but possibly (maybe when she wasn't contemplating the possibilities of her world coming to an end by Muggle fire) funny.

The Headmaster gave a few words after the singing, most of which went in one of Antia's ears and out the other. She was more concerned with the things her housemates had been discussing than whether or not Fanged Frisbees were banned in the hallways. The Prefects, one of which had been part of the conversation earlier, led the First Years to the dorms. Antia tried to pay attention to the path they took – out the Hall, then left to the Grand Staircase, then up five floors and down half a level, and through the right-hand corridor – but it was late, and she was tired. The group stopped at a patch of stone wall with a heavy brass door knocker on it.

"The door only opens once you've solved its riddle," the Prefect explained. "It'll keep asking until someone gets it right. Go on then, you lot – "

And then the door knocker, a dark copper-colored bird perched on a vertical nest, spoke: "What flies, but does not have wings?"

"A broomstick?" one of the First Years guessed.

The bird did not respond, but the otherwise regular-looking patch of wall swung open on invisible hinges. "Step onwards, then," the other Prefect said. When all the students had done so, they found themselves in an exact copy of the hallway they had just been in. There was another door knocker in front of them, just the same as before.

"Clever, isn't it?" the Prefect said admiringly. "Ravenclaw's defense. If you don't know the password – and I mean know it, like, have it as knowledge deep in your head - then you just keep answering riddles, and the professors get an intruder alert. Chasing endless knowledge. The perfect trap for someone looking to get into Ravenclaw Tower."

"So someone just has to tell us the password?" Antia asked.

"Nah, that'd be too easy," the Prefect shook his head. "There's a spell that Professor Flitwick casts on a secure list, with all our names on it. As soon as he updates the password, he spells the list, you see, and we all get the information in our heads. It's a rare usage of Occlumency, developed by Flitwick himself. Did it during the Grindel War, you know, to update security. Brilliant man, Professor Flitwick."

"I don't know if I want a professor poking around in my head," Gloria Whittleton said slowly. "My father probably wouldn't like it."

"The professor sends out consent forms," the other Prefect said easily. "Don't worry about it. Your parents have been through the war, they'll understand. Flitwick can be trusted, and the spell touches only a very specific part of your mindscapes, just enough to leave behind the password. We've had professional Mind Healers look into it."

"Anyway, Flitwick said he'd be spelling us all in right after dinner, so any moment now you ought to - "

"Oh!" There was a collective gasp, as the stone wall dissolved into nothingness.

"Right, then, the Common Room's right past here," the Prefect announced. "One of us will go first – " The other Prefect took a step forward, before she too disappeared – "And you all go, and then me."

One by one, and then all at once, the First Years stepped into the darkness. When Antia did so, she found herself blinking as her eyes tried to adjust to the sudden brightness.

"I could use a pirate's eye patch about now," one of the First Years spoke up.

"How come?" someone asked.

"The pirates, they used them so one eye would always be in the dark, see? So when they had to get up and fight in pitch-black, they'd just switch to the dark eye and they wouldn't have to stop and adjust."

The Common Room was a book-lover's dream come true. Following the shape of the tower, the room was round, with book shelves covering every bit of wall. In the center were sofas and arm chairs, all clustered around a roaring fireplace. The floor was an endless carpet of shimmering silver. The ceiling rolled out like the sky outside, dark and twinkling with stars and moonlight.

"The books are all impervious to fire, of course, besides other things," the first Prefect was saying. "And the fire is contained by magic, so it can't spread. That's two variations on the basic Fire charm, but you'll learn all that in Charms and, optionally in your Third Year, Arithmancy. The ceiling is enchanted just like the Great Hall's is; turns out this one here isn't just the weather, though. Some 'Claws ran an experiment a few years ago, the House Team's Chasers flew much higher than usual – much too high to be safe, if you ask me – and they showed up on the ceiling, too. Brilliant stuff, and the implications!"

"All right, Clearwater," interrupted the other Prefect, who'd just appeared behind a particularly nervous-looking student. "Let's get the Firsties to bed, then, shall we?"

"Of course, Fenwick," Clearwater blushed. "Sorry – but then, it's a 'Claw thing to go off on tangents sometimes, isn't it? You'll see a lot of it in this House. I mean, just the other day – well, anyway," she said hastily, when Fenwick sighed. "You see this bookshelf here, the one by the slightly faded armchair? It's mostly got books on Hogwarts. Ancient magicks, you know, histories on the Founders, and the like. This particularly thick one here, see, the spine says 'Hogwarts, A History'? The one on the middle, most accessible; there's another copy of it up there… See, if you pull this so it lies flat on the shelf, the whole thing swings open and you get to the dorms."

"You each get your own room, the same one for all seven years," Fenwick added. "First Years this year are on the third floor. Look for your names on the doors. Accommodations start out plain and rather ugly, to be honest, but as you pick up spells and things you can charm, enchant, and transfigure your room to your liking. Don't try to experiment on things you're not ready for, though…. If you mess it up, the rooms are enchanted to reset, and Flitwick will be alerted. The usual punishment is wand confiscation for a certain amount of time. Dangerous magick can have dangerous consequences," he warned.

"It's true," Clearwater said. "My elder brother had a friend once who messed up a self-transfiguration. The guy was walking around on elephant trunks for ears for days, he had to go to St. Mungo's – but you're probably all sleepy," she said, after a couple students had yawned at the same time. "All right, off to bed with you lot, then. If you don't know the way to somewhere, you can ask us, or one of the portraits. The older students might help, too, especially if you ask politely. Remember, asking questions is the only way to learn!"

With a couple of cheery goodbyes, the Prefects left for their own dorms. The tired First Years then stumbled their way through the surprisingly well-lit corridor, each of them disappearing into the doors with their names written on. Antia found hers three doors in, and after blinking to make sure it really was 'Sperantia Prince' in bright silver, she entered.

Her room was a small one, and she decided she'd need some expansion charms. The walls were a drab, plain white, and the floor tiled with bright blue marble. There was a window exhibiting the dark sky, and what she supposed were shadow-covered parts of the school grounds. It was hard to see. There was a single bed – thankfully much more comfortable than the rest of the room – with a thick duvet and soft pillows. She also had a wooden bookshelf and matching desk. There was a door leading to a serviceable white bathroom, where she cleaned herself up quickly before falling asleep. The beddings were especially lovely after the long day she'd had, and the nighttime breeze blew in from the windows. The bed faced the window, and so as she fell asleep to the sight of the Scottish countryside at night, she dreamt of flying her broomstick around the school's towers.

When Antia woke up, it was to the sound of a Sonorous-amplified wake-up call.

"RISE AND SHINE, RAVENCLAWS! FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL. TIMETABLES TO BE GIVEN AT EIGHT-FIFTEEN."

"Damn it all," she mumbled into her pillow. She was still sleepy. Antia rolled over and tried to fall asleep, but it was too late. She was up. Glaring in the direction of her door, she marched into the bathroom. Casting a quick Tempus the way they'd learned at the Academy, and seeing she had half an hour before breakfast, she took her time. She took a shower, wondering if she could replace it with a more luxurious bathtub, and freshened herself as best as she could.

She left her room for the Common Room, where a few students were sitting around, talking. After stopping to ask someone for directions to the Great Hall, she exited Ravenclaw Tower.

It was a long walk, several confusing directions and quite a few minutes later that Antia found herself back in the Great Hall. The tables were only sparsely filled, with most of the present students being Ravenclaws or Slytherins. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of red before she was engulfed in a hug.

"Lily," she said, voice muffled by a mouthful of hair. "Leggo."

"Sorry," Lily pulled back, grinning. "But Tia! First day of Hogwarts! I can't wait to get out timetables," she said. "Come on, d'you want to eat with me at the Gryffindor table?"

"The teachers aren't handing them out yet?" Antia asked, surprised. "Sure, I'll come as soon as Flitwick gives me mine." Seeing an opportunity to tease, she added, "Potter not friend enough for you?"

Lily rolled her eyes, but the grin on her face belied any real annoyance. "I'll have you know I spent some time last night talking to the other girls," she said mock-haughtily. "Did you know Lena's mother's taught her glamour charms already? I must've spent half an hour listening to her talk about hair curling charms," Lily shook her head. "The boys were more interesting."

"I'm sure James was very interested," Antia said slyly. "But guess what the Ravenclaw table talked about."

"Spell theory and future classes," Lily guessed.

"Muggles posing a threat to wizardkind," Antia corrected, shrugging her shoulders. "It wasn't hateful talk, mind. Just some… valid points, about the strength of Muggle technology. Do they really have bombs that can attack you from outer space?" she asked, biting her lip.

"Well, yes," Lily said, frowning. "But that's what the Statue of Secrecy's for. They just use their bombs to blow each other up, in wars. And the only ones who know are families of Muggleborns, so they wouldn't say anything."

"I wonder what the odds are of a hateful military general having a Muggleborn," Antia said. "I mean, it'd only take one, wouldn't it? If the parents were abusive, or afraid of magic, and maybe having access to weapons of destruction like that…"

"That's a scary thought," Lily said quietly.

"I thought I'd ask Professor Flitwick about it later," Antia confessed. "It really did get me thinking. D'you want to come with me later, after Charms?"

"Yeah," Lily answered. "Speaking of, Flitwick's there now, passing out the timetables. And McGonagall, too - see you at the Gryff table?"

"See you," Antia called over her shoulder. As Lily scuttled back to her table, Antia strolled over to where Flitwick was surrounded by a group of eager First Year 'Claws.

"Now," Flitwick was saying. "Sperantia Prince… ?"

"Yes, Professor?" Antia asked, slipping into the circle around the diminutive teacher.

"Here's your time table, Sperantia," he said, smiling. "First Years have Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall first. If you all stay here, the Prefects will bring you to the classroom after breakfast."

"Thank you, Professor Flitwick," Antia returned the smile. "But please, I prefer to be called Antia."

Flitwick chuckled, "Very well, Antia. Go and have a bit of breakfast, then. The eggs are particularly good."

Antia slipped away from the First Years, most of whom were taking the opportunity to ask Flitwick about the classes. She spotted Lily, who was waving at her from the Gryffindor table, and took the seat next to her.

"What's your first class, Tia?" Lily asked after swallowing a mouthful of toast. "We've got Herbology with Professor Sprout."

"Transfiguration," Antia replied, spooning some eggs onto a piece of toast. "I've heard a lot of good things about Professor McGonagall. She's supposed to be famous for using Transfiguration in duels."

"Morning, Antia," Remus said, as he and the boys plopped down across from them.

"Good morning, Lily," James flashed a grin at the redhead. "Antia," he added, smiling.

"A good morning indeed," Sirius announced, splashing some pumpkin juice as he poured himself a gobletful. "How was the Nest, Prince?"

"If by 'Nest' you mean 'Ravenclaw Tower'," Antia said wryly, "It was lovely. We each get our own rooms to decorate with magicks. Just wait until I get my hands on the Library…" she trailed off.

"Isn't that kind of lonely, though?" Lily asked. "The Gryffindor dorms have four or five to a room, one each for the boys and the girls. I can see how having a lot of noise might not help studying, but there are curtains around the beds for privacy."

"Decorating your own room sounds fantastic, though," Sirius said. "You could change the wallpaper! Make your window look out onto the Seine!"

"And a room of four boys isn't much better than a noisy Common Room for studying," Remus added.

"Speaking of studying, Library later, Lily?" Antia asked, slicing herself a piece of bacon. "Mum says there are some amazing books in there, and that's saying something."

"Absolutely," Lily said, nodding vigorously. "France was amazing, but did you know they have separate verb tenses for written words?" she lamented. "I could only read the most basic books, and those were… Well, basic."

"Could I come?" Remus asked shyly. "I'd like to get a look at the Library myself…"

"Of course, Remus," Lily said warmly. "You know, I've been meaning to look up something that Prefect mentioned last night, about the portraits?"

Lily and Remus launched into a lively discussion about the sentience of the portraits, drawing even James and Sirius into it.

"They're like clones," Lily argued. "They branch off from a piece of the original person – "

"There's more magic than that involved," James said authoritatively. "It's magic that makes it work, otherwise all you've got is a bit of hair and sloppy potion – "

"Potion is not slop!" Antia said angrily.

"He meant the consistency," Sirius defended. "You know, because magic keeps the ingredients fluid!"

The conversation became so loud and so lively, in fact, that it was only a few minutes after the fact that Antia realized Professor Flitwick was calling her name. From across the Great Hall. With the use of a Sonorous.

"Antia Prince!" the diminutive man called out. "Please, for the last time! We're leaving for your first class!"

Antia blushed heavily, embarrassed that she hadn't noticed. Everyone in the Great Hall – or what felt like everyone, which was close enough – stared at her. She whispered a quick goodbye to the Gryffindors, before hurrying over to the rest of the Ravenclaws.

"Why do they do that, anyway, the Ravenclaws?" Remus asked absently. "The Slytherins, too. Professor McGonagall doesn't have us shown around."

"Different values," James shrugged. "My dad said something about that. The different Houses have different traditions. Us Gryffs are expected to find our own way around."

"Part of the adventure," Sirius barked out a laugh.

And it would certainly be an adventure, not that the young warlocks knew anything of that yet.

Author's Note:

Alright, too obvious? I figured, hey, societal problems are picked up by coincidences. Without new blood and the new ideas that come with them, I don't think it's a stretch to assume Muggleborns and Purebloods could have talked this out. It wouldn't have happened with the older generations, because by then they're set in tradition and conserving that. And if I'd waited for it to happen later on in the year, it couldn't be believed as instinctive questioning (if you were a Pureblood suddenly exposed to Muggle-raised classmates for the first time, would you ask about that soon or late?). Lemme know what you all think.

A little violence in the following omake. And crack. (The stupid humor kind, not the drug kind.)

Omake:

"Do they really have bombs that can attack you from outer space?" Antia asked, biting her lip.

Lily was cut off from whatever reply she was going to make, by a sudden explosion of rock and dynamite. Debris rained across the Great Hall as crumbled rock from one of the Castle's walls disintegrated in a fiery bang.

"THIS IS THE BODY AGAINST MAGICAL FREAKS! WE, THE B.A.M.F., HAVE THE STRUCTURE SURROUNDED, AND NUKES ON TARGET! SURRENDER, AND YOU WILL LIVE."

Antia looked to Dumbledore and the teachers at the Head Table. The old man had turned as white as his beard. McGonagall was standing, a determined grimace on her face as she widened her stance to prepare for fighting. Flitwick was adjusting his spectacles nervously, undoubtedly thinking through possible actions and their consequences. Slughorn was eyeing the rest of the table, seemingly calm, but Antia could see his hand drifting to the potions he wore on a belt. Sprout just kept eating, watching the wall with a calm but weary eye.
Over at the Slytherin table, one of the students - a tall, pale, blond boy - had risen. "I don't know who you are," the boy she recognized as a Malfoy drawled, "But when my father hears about this - "
There was a loud crack in the air, almost like Apparition, but coming from one of the Muggle's stick-weapons. Blood bloomed out from Malfoy's chest even as he paled more, and he sank to the ground with his wand outstretched.

"That was so BAMF," Lily whispered.