Full Summary: Bella is The-Girl-Who-Lived. The past is the same, only it was Bella who was there when Lily and James were killed. Bella goes to the Dursley's since she is now the chosen one. The only difference between the Dursley's in this story and the books is that they are not only verbally abusive but also physically abusive. When Bella goes to Hogwarts she finds friends and a loving family. People start to find out about the abuse and demands that Bella not be allowed to go back to the Dursley's. What will Dumbledore's answer be?

I do not own anything originally from Harry Potter or Twilight.

Snape POV

"How did Isabella's first detention go? Did she have any objections to speaking with you about her relatives?"

It was the morning after Miss Potter's first detention, and I was in Albus' office. He had a few inquiries and chose to interrogate me on the matters.

"Very well. She tried to act like there was nothing wrong," I sneered. "It was as if she actually forgot that she had already told us of the abuse. Did she honestly forget the condition she arrived here in?" I was honestly baffled. Did the girl have short-term memory loss issues?

"But she consented to speaking of her relatives?" Albus asked.

"Not exactly. I gave her three options. She could either speak of it willingly, put her memories in a Pensieve or allow me to use Legilimency on her."

"What did she choose?" The old man was worried.

"Pensieve, of course. After revealing to her that it was doubly less painful than Legilimency, she jumped on it."

"Not literally, I hope," Albus tried to joke. I was not amused. He sighed in defeat after a solid thirty seconds of silence. "Very well, then. That is all I need to ask, Severus. Have a nice day!" I took the dismissal for what it was and speed walked out of there. I needed to hurry to get to my first class.

In a nut shell, it went disastrously. Two third year Hufflepuffs had to be sent to the Hospital Wing because they botched their befuddlement drought. Then I gave three Ravenclaws detention for not following the dress code. Honestly! Little thirteen year old girls did not need to be dressing like common hookers, with practically no skirt and buttons on the blouses unbuttoned, showing of their 'goods'. As if they had any.

I honestly felt like smacking them. Weren't Ravenclaw students supposed to be smart? I suppose the hat malfunctioned while placing them.

When first hour was over, I was in an extremely bad mood and couldn't wait for my second hour first year Gryffindor students to arrive. They were about to experience my legendary favoritism.

IPOV

The screeching that woke me that morning terrified me. So much so, that I screamed, too. My eyes popped open, and I noticed that it was just Amy shaking me and yelling for me to get up.

"What?" I asked breathlessly and still slightly groggy.

"Nothing," Amy deadpanned. We sat in silence for the next few seconds.

"Am I… late for class… or something?"

"Absolutely not." I chose to look at the clock by my bed after this.

Five… Forty-five…. In the morning.

"…Why exactly did you get me up so early, Amy?" I was exasperated, and not in the least bit happy.

"No reason!" She exclaimed, hopping off my bed and then skipping out the door. I simply stared after her, completely bewildered.

What the hell just happened?

I decided that Amy probably just had a sip too much of coffee and laid back down, fully prepared to fall back asleep.

After twenty minutes of just laying there wide awake, I decided to just get up and get ready for the day.

I grabbed my toiletry items and walked through the door with an arm full of clothes, robes and shower stuff.

The shower was decidedly a bad idea, because it made me even more tired than before. I needed it, though. I didn't want to go to class smelling like an old gym sock, or something.

When I walked down the stairs with my bag and whatnot, I realized that Amy and I were the first two people down. I resisted the urge to reach over and thump the aforementioned girl.

She sat staring at the fire with a glazed look in he eye that was normal for an incredibly hyper Amelia Carter. Or so I had heard.

By the time Joey, Blaise and Gino came down from the boys dorms, I was ready to leave. I noticed that they looked every bit as tired as I felt and scooted toward Gino.

"Did Amy wake you guys up, too?" I said loud enough for the boys to hear. They all nodded an affirmative.

Breakfast passed with me sitting at the Slytherin Table for one - I wanted to sit with my snake friends - and Amy jerking her head around. The gesture was scarily reminiscent of a bird. She stopped whenever someone put a head on top of her head.

In Transfiguration that day, a lot more people finally managed to turned their twig into a match. I wasn't completely bored, then. I and several other people started to have a competition on how fast we could change them. I won the first few times, but as Hermione and a few others got the hang of it, I lost a lot more.

At the end of class, there was a ginormous mound or matches on my desk and Professor McGonagall didn't look very happy about the mess of match sticks there were on the floor. We were forced to clean our competition up before the bell rang.

I finally discovered that Snape favors his Slytherins. It was completely unfair. Crabbe and his partner almost blew their potion to smithereens and he gave them a near perfect score, while he gave two Gryffindors next to Hermione and me a Poor score. Their potion had been nearly perfect, besides the slight off shadedness of it.

I made sure not to give him a reason to criticize Hermione. She wouldn't be able to handle it. She would take the kind of criticism he was dealing out half in tears.

By the end of Potions, Weasley and Thomas had earned half a month worth of detention and Hermione had been called an insufferably know-it-all at least seven times.

Hermione and I walked out, my arm around her back, rubbing it in slow circles.

"It's okay, 'Mione. He just doesn't know how to appreciate a girl who knows stuff," I murmured in comfort. All she did was nod and wipe a tear from her face.

Later that day, I was standing in Snape's office, waiting for him to finish marking an essay. From the looks of it, it was a Gryffindor essay. Which reminded me, I needed to hurry up with this detention so I could get back to the common room and finish my Transfigurations, Potions and Charms essays. Thank god I only had one freshly assigned paper to do. I was already almost completely finished with Transfiguration and Charms.

"Have a seat, Miss Potter," Snape said as he put the last red spidery mark on the Gryffindor paper. After following his instructions, he reached for something behind his desk and pulled a large, heavy looking basin out. It was filled with clear empty water. This, I assumed, was the Pensieve. "This, Miss Potter, is a Pensieve. As I informed you yesterday, it will hold memories. When you lower your face to it and touch your face to the water, you shall enter a memory. You will be able to view this memory from a third person view point. Any questions?"

"No sir." It seemed simple enough.

"Then we shall be beginning immediately. I want you to look into your mind. Look for your earliest memory of the Dursley's abuse, mistreatment, or neglect of you." He paused for a few minutes while I did as he said. "Do you have it?"

I nodded.

"Alright. Now, I will be placing the tip of my wand and extracting this memory from your mind. Keep this specific memory in your mind. You will feel a slight tugging sensation, but nothing more."

"Yes sir," I answered. I pulled the memory to the forefront of my mind and closed my eyes. I felt the smooth tip of Professor Snape's wand [AN: Get your minds out of the gutter, you pervs!] rest against my temple, then move away. I felt the tugging, and then it ended as quickly as it began. I opened my eyes in time to see him tapping his wand against the side of the Pensieve and the silver memory stand fluttering into the bowl.

"We will be viewing this together so you can face this and overcome it," He murmured to me.

I opened my mouth to object. I did not want to experience this memory again. It was horrible the first time around.

Snape held up his hand, cutting off my words. "I'm not giving you a choice, Miss Potter. You will be viewing your memories with me, or you will be having more detentions. With manual labor beyond your worst nightmare."

I decided that I didn't really feel like cleaning anything for a while and kept my mouth shut. I was reluctant all the same.

Snape gestured for me to step forward. When I was beside him, he gently put his hand against my back and pushed me forward, so I was bent over at the waist. He followed after me and right before our noses touched the surface of the water we were sucked into the memory.

I was five years old. I was tired, hungry and in pain. I had been practically begging for a bath and Aunt Petunia had finally granted me my wish.

We were in the bathroom and she was looming over me.

"Strip!" she barked at me.

Snape cleared his throat uncomfortably as my five year old self took her clothes off. Five year old me stood there shivering slightly as Aunt Petunia turned the knob on the faucet. Water spurted out the spicket-thing and soon the room was filled with steam from the hot water.

"Get in!" Snapped Aunt Petunia. I hesitantly tested the steaming water with my foot. I jumped back when it burned my foot.

"Aunt Tuney, it's too hot," I whispered shyly.

"No it's not! Get in the bloody water. Now!"

I reluctantly followed orders, but took too long so Aunt Petunia pushed me in. I bashed my head against the wall.

I heard a sharp intake of breath from Snape.

My little girl self screamed as my entire body was immersed in the scalding hot water.

"Shut up!" Aunt Petunia screeched. She pulled out a scrubbing brush, the kind with the hard bristles that are normally used for heavy duty cleaning, and started scrubbing me with it.

"What kind of soap did she use?" Snape asked.

"I um. I'm pretty sure she used lye soap. I remember it burning a lot."

Snape put his hand over his eyes in response.

By the end of my bath, I was sobbing and covered in burning, bleeding scratches.

I looked down in shame, my cheeks burning.

"Shut up!" Aunt Petunia barked at me again. She landed a particularly hard slap on my cheek and then the memory ended.

I staggered slightly as Snape and I landed back in his office. He gestured for me to take a seat again, and then sat himself down in a chair in front of me, not behind his desk.

I put my head down, avoiding looking at my Head of House.

"Was it like that every time?" he asked.

"More or less," I answered. "Sometimes it was icy, instead of scalding. Other times, she used steel wool, if she was particularly cheesed off." Snape stared at me for a few moments, then came back to himself.

"Next memory. I would like you to think of your worst punishment. Bring it to the forefront of your mind like last time and I'll extract it."

When the silver threads were in the Pensive we entered it together like last time.

I was six and sitting out back near the flower beds. I was supposed to be tending to them, but was taking a break, because the previous nights beating was taking its toll on me.

At that moment, a small, greenish garden snake slithered out from underneath a rose bush.

~Stupid human. Out of my way!~ It hissed.

~Sorry, Mr. Snake. I'll move.~ I said to it, after the initial shock of seeing my first snake wore off.

Snape was looking at me in shock. I chose to ignore it. He had no reason to be shocked. I was just talking to a snake. I was sure plenty of people here can do that!

~Ahh… A speaker. How do you do, little girl?~ The snake said interested.

~Perfectly fine, Mr. Snake. How are you?~

~Such a polite little human child. I'm perfectly fine as well. What do your nest mates call you, child?~

~Isabella, Mr. Snake. But I like to be called Izzy.~

~That's a wonderful human name, child. My name is not 'Mr. Snake' ,though. My name is Mali.~

~Alright, Mr. Mali. It's nice to meet you. I need you to move out of the flower bed, though. I need to pull up those weeds right there.~

~Of course, child. I'll move-~

The snake was cut off as Uncle Vernon came, roaring, out the back door.

"Freak! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing!" He yelled, spit flying.

"Tending to the flower beds, Uncle Vernon," I answered with slight hesitation.

"No you're not you lying bitch! You sitting there doing something freaky! Talking to a bloody snake!"

Uncle Vernon ripped six year old me up from the ground by my hair, causing me to shriek loudly in pain. Uncle Vernon kicked me sharply in the face to shut me up.

I was half-conscious as he dragged me into the house. He proceeded to beat the hell out of me, then tossed me down the stairs, into the basement.

I remembered being on the verge of death, and then being better the next hour, but I couldn't figure out why.

All of a sudden, a bright, blinding light encompassed the basement and myself. It stayed like that for close to three quarters of an hour and then faded. I was perfectly healed.

Oh. So that was how I survived.

The memory ended and we stood there by the Pensieve for a while, and then Snape had me sit again.

"Did you know that you can converse with serpents?" He asked.

"Yeah. I was talking to it there, wasn't I? I mean, can't a lot of people here do it, too?" I asked, not understanding why he was asking me that like it was a problem.

"Actually, Miss Potter, There have been few in history who have had the ability to speak with Serpents. Most have been dark wizards."

"Oh…" I said slowly in understanding. "So, what? I should keep this particular ability to myself?"

"Exactly. Now, I think we should discuss your feelings on that particular memory."

I looked away and pretended not to have heard him.

"Miss Potter. I expect an answer."

"I feel perfectly fine, Professor."

"That's a lie, and you know it. I would like the truth."

I stayed silent for a few moments, determined not to answer. My determination broke, however, when Snape reached out and rubbed my arm in a comforting way.

I looked at him as tears welled in my eyes. "Why did they do it?" I whispered. "Why wasn't I good enough for them? What did I do wrong?" I had been wondering these things for years. I thought I had gotten over it, but apparently I hadn't.

"You did nothing wrong, Miss Potter. They are the ones that have done wrong. You were always good enough. They just were too blind with jealousy, fear and hatred to see what a wonderful child you were. They were too blind to see how wonderful a child you are, Miss Potter." How I wished he would call me by me Izzy. Or even Isabella. But I knew he wouldn't, so I didn't try to tell him too.

"Maybe, if I didn't have magic, they would love me. I tried, for so long to get them to like me, you know. Nothing ever worked. Maybe I'm just unlovable…" I trailed off as I stared off into space. A tears inched down my cheek.

"You are lovable, Isabella. Never think you are not. they are the ones who are unlovable. They do not deserve love, or anything else they have. They deserved to rot in the lowest levels of Hell."

I looked at Snape in shock. No one had ever said that about the Dursleys before.

"Really?" I whispered.

"Of course. I would not say it, if I did not mean it, Isabella."

After that, I flew at him, my arms wrapping around Snape's neck. He froze for a second, then wrapped his arms around me cautiously. After a few more seconds, he got more comfortable with it and picked me up, placing me sideways in his lap.

"You deserve love, Isabella," He murmured in my ear as he rubbed my back soothingly.

At this, I knew. I knew that Snape would most likely always be there for me, no matter what. I wrapped my arms around him tighter, letting loose the sobs and tears I had been holding back. Snape let me cry without saying a word. He just sat there, hugging me with me in his lap until my tears came to a stop and my sobs turned to hiccups.

Even then, Snape kept me in his lap, his chin resting atop my head. He rubbed my back until my hiccups stopped then removed his chin, so he could look at me.

"Better?" I could see the teasing smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"Much," I answered with a bright smile.

"Good," He drawled. "Then it would be a rather good idea for you to head back to the common room. It is almost curfew, Isabella." I beamed as he called me by my first name again.

"Of course. Good bye Professor! See you tomorrow!" I called as I scuttled out of the room with my bag draped over my shoulder.

Everyone was up in their dorms when I got back, so I sat down on the sofa by the fire place and pulled out my homework. I thought about the better part of tonight's detention while I worked.

When I finished writing the last inch of my essay, I went upstairs and fell asleep, fully clothed, due to exhaustion.

My dream was odd, that night. But not unwanted.

"Papa!" I yelled , running into a room and jumping on a bed on top of someone.

"Ugh.. Sweetheart, Papa's trying to sleep. It's too early…" The person said in a groggy voice.

"But, Papa," I whined. "It's Christmas. We gotta open presents."

"If you insist, love. Go downstairs while I get ready and then we'll have breakfast. After that we can open presents, love."

"Alright, Papa! Hurry up, please!" Then I jumped up and raced downstairs, to sit at the kitchen table. Fifteen minutes later, the one I called Papa came downstairs, dressed. He had an amused expression on his face as I bounced in my seat.

"Calm yourself, love. You won't have to wait much longer," He said with a light chuckle. He clapped and food appeared on the table. I put some of it on my plate and ate slowly, knowing if I wolfed it down, Papa would tell me to slow down or I wouldn't be getting anything for Christmas.

When we were both finished, I hopped out of my chair and ran to Papa's side. I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the living room.

"C'mon, we gotta open presents!" I exclaimed again.

"Alright. Alright. Don't rip my arm off," the man joked.

He watched as I opened all my presents, and took a picture every now and then with a muggle camera.

When I was done, I crawled into the man's lap and cuddled up to his chest.

"I love you, Papa," I whispered.

"I love you to, sweetheart. You're so much like your mother, love," 'Papa' answered.

I beamed up at him before cuddling back into Severus Snape's chest.

There you have it, my faithful readers! The plot is picking up… Sort of. I think. Anyway, leave me a review telling me how you liked it! (Especially the fluffy parts!) Love y'all!

-Andie