It was a touchy subject. But what wasn't, really? The subject of her entire being had become a bit of a sensitive wound as of late. Her history was anything but her favorite conversational piece. This was no different. It felt like a sick, poor attempt at replacing her father. She had only seen Severus Snape thrice before her father's death. Once when she was nearly too young to remember him, and once each at her grandparent's funerals. And then the fourth time she'd met him was at her father's funeral, and that was the first time she saw him while totally aware that he was supposed to be taking the authority of a father over her. It couldn't be helped - being that three of the first four times she'd spoken to the man had been at a ceremony for the passing of those she loved - that she did not have a particular liking for him.
She was trying, though. She tried to view Snape as an uncle, at the least. Which he almost was, considering he'd been her father's cousin. And of course, anyone considered family was subject to her scrutiny and criticism.
"I can't believe you chose him to be a prefect. He's so manipulative, and everything must go his way." Remington remarked as she sat at a table closest to the teacher's.
"From my understanding, you've been spending time with him regardless." Snape said, not looking up at her from the papers at his desk in front of him, one eyebrow arched.
"Well-" She began haughtily, desperately clutching her dignity, "You're not exactly passing me, so I needed help from something."
His gaze turned up at her, "And you just so chose Mister Malfoy?"
Her eyes narrowed, "Normally you're not supposed to start insinuating things. Not as a teacher, not as a parental figure."
A slight sneer crossed his face as he looked back down at the papers he was grading.
"Has my mother said anything to you?" She asked indifferently, though she was inwardly half-hoping his answer wouldn't be a negative. She wanted some sort of acknowledgement from her mother, but wasn't about to give her mother the satisfaction of receiving a letter from her daughter, not after everything Rem blamed that woman for. But she knew better than to expect Marissel to send a letter without having been addressed first.
"No, Marissel has sent me no word." He glanced at her again, "Have you not heard from her?"
"No," Remington said, forcing the disappointment out of her tone. "I haven't." She set a glare on one of the legs of Snape's desk. "Though it doesn't surprise me much. You'd have to drag that woman halfway to the sun for her heart to start thawing."
Snape frowned slightly. He'd never say as much to Remington, knowing her reaction would likely be explosive, but it wasn't hard to see bits of Marissel in the way she held her grudge. How she held on so tightly to her honor. How she placed blame with so little compassion or attempt to understand. The cold stare she fixated made her look such like her mother, though she usually seemed a young, girlish copy of Timothy. Her sharp greenish-blue eyes were unmistakably Marissel, however, where Timothy had the black eyes of a Prince.
"Do you miss my father ever, Severus?" She asked suddenly, her gaze not moving, though softening reasonably.
It irked him slightly how her address of him varied so much, and so often. One moment he could be Professor Snape, and Severus the next. And not just that, but now she chose to ask such a question. It was understandable, of course, but he couldn't just tell her the blunt response that came to mind immediately for fear of what sort of emotion it might bring out in her. He couldn't say he'd ever been exactly close with Timothy. But he was the closest relative to Severus' own age, and they'd always gotten on well. It seemed Timothy had gotten the luck to marry and start a family, where Severus was stuck teaching children in his second-choice post. And a sort of parenthood was unexpectedly and undesirably forced upon him.
"I'm aware that your father was a good man, Remington, but by no means did I know him particularly well." Snape said.
Her eyes trailed to him and she pursed her lips a bit, not finding fault in his answer. She took a deep breath. "Well... I need to get up to the tower before curfew." She said slowly as she stood up from the stool, nodding in goodbye before slipping out of the door.