And Chapter 2 is down once more! I hope you are all liking the new material! I apologize for the slow updating, but I am juggling revamping all my current stories and starting up a few new ones. MAybe bit off more than I could chew, but I'm doing my best...

Enjoy the new chapter!

~GharrahGirl

Charity finds that waking up in a new room is always so disconcerting. Her first morning at Hogwarts is no different. Immediately upon waking, she is in a small panic as she momentarily forgets where she is and why she's surrounded by green curtains. As soon as she remembers, though, she bounds up out of bed excitedly and hurries to shower and change into her robes. Her hair is still damp as she heads down the stairs, pausing as she sees Draco lounging on the couch in front of the fireplace, looking beyond bored. When he notices her, he gets to his feet with a relieved sigh.

"Do you always wake up so late," he asks, clearly irritated from the wait.

"No," she admits with a grin, "But you didn't have to wait on me, Draco."

"Next time, I won't," he replies petulantly as they head out of the common room together.

"You're being such a girl about it," she mutters to him, grinning as he shoots her a particularly nasty glare.

"Why'd you sleep in so late," he complains once more, "Breakfast ends in like twenty minutes."

"I was up late with my Father," she tells him with a grin, "I was helping him measure out ingredients."

"Well, next time try and keep better time," he huffs, anger clearly leaving him as he continues to pout.

She only grins and nods, laughing at his put-out expression as they head into the Great Hall. She sees her father up at the table watching his students, and she gives him a large smile as she and Draco take seats across from Crabbe and Goyle. She piles some eggs and toast onto her plate, lightly picking at the food as she watches the duo across from them shoveling food into their mouths. Her nose scrunches up at the sight.

"I'm not sure whether to be fascinated or disgusted by their seeming ability to eat and breath at the same time," she mutters to Draco, who shoots them a disdainful look.

"Neither do I," he returns, looking to his plate instead as the two slow down, looking chastised.

Draco and her chat a bit about Quidditch. She's not the biggest fan, but she makes sure to stay current enough to keep up with Draco as it's nearly all he talks about. As they're discussing the roles of seeker vs keeper, her father walks up and holds out two schedules for them. They take them, conversation abandoned to look at the timetables.

It looks like they only share one class with the Gryffindors, which is Potions of all classes. Already, Charity is sure it's not going to go well. Still, they've yet to announce when flying lessons will be. There are a few empty spots in the schedule where the class could fall.

"First up is Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs," she observes, smiling slightly, "That'll be interesting. Father says it's a formidable subject."

"You're strange," Draco comments, eyeing her eager attitude with a bemused one, "Do you know that?"

"Indeed I do," she comments, grinning as she finishes off the last of her toast before standing, "Come along, Draco!"

"I'm still eating," he comments, "I'll meet you there."

"Know the way?"

"Sod off," he comments, rolling his eyes.

She laughs and heads off, heading to the common room to retrieve her Transfiguration and Charms textbooks as those are her classes for the morning. Then, she heads toward the classroom. She'd only been there once or twice, but she spent many years exploring the castle growing up. She's fairly sure of where she's going.

As she's heading there, she notices a blonde pigtailed Hufflepuff looking down a few corridors unsurely. Putting on her best friendly smile, Charity approaches the girl, books poised on her hip.

"Are you looking for Professor McGonagall's room," she asks, startling the girl, who spins with wide brown eyes to look at Charity, eyes taking note of her green robes.

"N-No, I'm okay. I know the way."

"You do," she asks, raising an eyebrow, "Then you know that the corridor you were headed down leads to Filch's office?"

The poor girl balks at that, stepping away from the corridor before seeming to deflate and sigh, eyeing the Slytherin with distrust.

"Alright, so I'm lost," she says defensively, "I can't help it."

"I know," Charity assures with another smile, "This place is massive. It took me years to figure out how to get around without having to ask the ghosts for help. My name's Charity, by the way."

"You're Professor Snape's daughter," she says, eyes widening in recognition, "My older classmates were talking about you in the common room. They couldn't believe he had a child."

"Yes, well, my father is very private," she explains with a small shrug, "I'm heading to Transfiguration, too. Want to walk with me?"

"R-Really," she asks, looking unsure and wondering if the offer is a trick.

"Of course," Charity insists, grinning widely, "Can't have you late on your first day! Professor McGonagall is very caring, but she's also a very strict professor. It's this way," she states, heading down a corridor to the right.

The girl follows after her, walking beside her hesitantly, remaining silent and looking very unsure of herself. Charity feels a bit sorry for the girl. She doesn't seem very confident, and she's probably already encountered a couple of the less-civil Slytherin students in higher years.

"You never told me your name," Charity comments lightly, the smile remaining in an attempt to ease the girl's nerves.

"Oh, right," she states, flushing pink with embarrassment, "My name is Hannah. Hannah Abbot."

"Well, Hannah, it's very nice to meet you. Are you excited about Transfiguration?"

"I'm kind of… scared," she admits softly, "I'm afraid I won't do it right."

"Oh, you won't," Charity informs her, laughing, "None of us will. Transfiguration is supposed to be really hard and complicated. But, don't let that discourage you. It just means more practice is needed. Besides, I bet you'll find one or two subjects you love."

"You think?"

"Oh, yes! I, myself, am very partial to potion brewing. My father often let me sit and watch him make brews up for the Hospital Wing and the like growing up. It's fascinating to me. And, from the few books my father let me read, I think I'll like Defense Against the Dark Arts. I'm not sure about the teacher, though. Professor Quirrell seems so odd, and Father doesn't like him much."

"He does seem strange," Hannah agrees slowly, a small chuckle escaping her, "He's always wearing the funny hat."

"It's apparently new," she explains, "My father thinks it looks ridiculous. He complained about it a lot the last couple of weeks."

Hannah and her share a laugh as they enter the classroom. Hannah is immediately beckoned by a stout, blondish-haired boy who's eyeing the Slytherin with slight disdain, causing said Slytherin to bristle indignantly at the look.

"Oh, that's Ernie. Thanks for showing me here," Hannah says to Charity with a grin, "You're really nice for a Slytherin."

"Thanks, Hannah," Charity replies with a chuckle, "You're not too bad, either, for a Hufflepuff," she retorts with a wink before she goes and takes a seat by herself.

She takes out her quill and parchment before opening her book to the page indicated on the chalkboard. Just as she's about to start the in-class assignment of outlining the chapter, Draco plops down into the seat beside her, narrowly avoiding one Pansy Parkinson, her loyal sidekick Millicent by her side.

"She still following you about," Charity asks with a laugh, looking at Draco's annoyed expression.

"She's annoying," he comments as he gets his stuff from his bag, "And I want to hex her."

"All you could do is shoot sparks at her," she retorts with a scoff as she starts writing, "But I would love to see you try. She's rather rude to me."

"What," Draco asks in surprise, "Why?"

"Oh, I think it has something to do with our friendship," she states, shrugging, "She's not stupid enough to attack or harass me, but she's rather short with me, if she acknowledges me at all."

"Kinda wish she would harass you," Draco mutters, smirking merrily, "I'd love to see Uncle Sev tear into her."

Charity chuckles slightly at the thought, shaking her head with a smile even though she doesn't look up from her work. He, too, gets out his book and begins outlining the chapter, glancing at her parchment every once in a while for inspiration. When McGonagall starts class, she begins lecturing. She starts class with a very firm warning against horseplay, threatening to drop a student from her class. After taking a bunch of rather complicated notes, we're each handed a match and instructed to transfigure it into a needle. She briefly demonstrates by turning a book into a cat and back again.

Charity grins at the sight, and the class eagerly starts trying to transfigure their matches. She laughs slightly when Draco somehow manages to break his in half, to which he responds with a glare as his face tints pink when McGonagall fixes it. Charity merely gives him a teasing smile before getting back to work. By the end of class, she gets the match to turn pointy, but it remains wooden with a red tip. McGonagall nods in slight praise at the accomplishment, more than the rest of the class managed. Charity grins at the nod, Draco seething next to her.

After Transfiguration comes Charms class, which turns out to be rather fun. She has never gotten the chance to meet Professor Flitwick during the summers she spent here as a child. He's a short, funny little old man with a high voice and cheery disposition. He demonstrates several charms for them eagerly, laughing himself as his students watch dancing lights in awe. He then starts explaining the wrist movement we'll be practicing for upcoming charms, the swish-and-flick. He has us get our wands out and practice it several times, motioning and instructing different students from atop the stack of books he stands on. Charity finds herself especially enjoying the class and is honestly sad when it ends, signaling lunch.

She walks with Draco and his goons to the Slytherin table, catching the sight of Harry Potter sat with Ron. She pauses, worrying her lip a moment before holding out her bag to Draco, who takes it with a confused frown.

"Save me a seat," she asks, glancing at him.

He follows her line of sight, his frown deepening.

"Not a good idea," he comments.

"I just want to ask Harry how his classes have gone," she states, shrugging as she walks over to the Gryffindor table, ignoring the many looks she gets, "Hello, Harry," she says in greeting as she comes to stand in front of him, standing behind a pudgy nervous boy who shakes when he sees her robes, "Ronald," she adds when Ron glares at her.

"Charity," Harry realizes when he looks up, looking surprised, "Hi."

Taking that as an invitation, she sits beside the shaking boy, who squeaks in fright and eyes her warily. She looks at him with interest, observing his round, chubby face and blonde hair. She gives him a slight grin.

"I'm Charity," she introduces with a smile.

The boy merely squeaks, so she looks to Harry expectantly. Harry keeps darting his eyes from her to the head table to the Slytherin table behind her and back again before hesitantly focusing on Charity.

"That's Neville," he tells her, "Are you allowed to sit here," he asks with a frown.

"Probably not," she admits with a shrug, "But I'll be quick. I only wanted to ask how your classes were going. I've just come from Charms, Transfiguration before that."

"O-Oh," he says, again seeming surprised, "Um, we had Herbology and History of Magic. Herbology is neat, but History of Magic was… kind of boring. The teacher's a ghost, and he got the names of different figures wrong," he tells her, slightly confused by her interest. Hadn't Ron said that Slytherins were all bad?

"Oh, well, I have that tomorrow, thankfully. I have Herbology after this. I'm kind of excited. Herbology is very important if you want to grow your potion ingredients, you know. Transfiguration was interesting, but it's very difficult and there are a lot of notes. Charms is so much fun, though! Oh, Professor Flitwick is so entertaining. We're not doing any spellwork, yet, but he gives a fantastic demonstration."

"What'd he do," Harry asks curiously.

"Oh, you'll have to find out," she says with a grin, "I don't want to ruin the surprise."

"Your boyfriend is watching you," Ron snaps, glaring past her, "Better go see what he wants."

She frowns at his attitude when she'd only been trying to have a nice conversation. Her anger bubbles, but she manages to squash it down and look behind her at Draco, who's shooting her an annoyed look. He holds up her bag meaningfully, and she sighs as she rolls her eyes before looking back to the boys.

"I have to get back to his highness," she states, earning an amused smirk from the bespeckled boy in front of her, "I swear he's the most high-maintenance friend I've got. And, so you can get it right in the future, Ronald, he's not my boyfriend. We grew up together, that'd be weird. Anyway, nice chatting with you, Harry. Wish I could say the same to you, Ronald, but you've got a stick up your arse," she says flippantly as she stands, earning a snort of laughter from Harry and a scowl from Ron, "Oh, and nice to meet you, Neville," she adds, patting the nervous boy on the back as she heads to her table.

Draco pulls her down into her seat as soon as she's in reach, and she gives a dramatic sigh as he lectures her on the importance of maintaining house pride and a load of other rubbish. As he drones on, sounding irritatingly close to her father, she catches Harry's gaze across the Hall and gives him a wink and a smile before focusing on her food and tuning Draco out.

After lunch, they head out to the greenhouses for Herbology. She's seen Professor Sprout a few times throughout her time at Hogwarts. The woman comes routinely through the summer to care for her plants. She's a rather nice, pudgy little witch who's rather talkative if you get her going.

As she lectures, she gestures with her hands and spends a particular time explaining some plants over others. We all take dutiful notes. Well, most of us. Crabbe and Goyle stare into space, Draco is etching a crudely-made dragon into the table where he's seated beside Charity, and Pansy and Millicent are whispering back and forth to each other, looking around at different students as they gossip. The Ravenclaws all seem annoyed at their disruption, but Professor Sprout doesn't take notice, continuing to lecture on merrily. Charity continues taking notes, compelled to prove herself a more respectful student than her housemates.

After class, she packs up her things and begins heading out. On her way to the castle, she catches sight of a giant of a man outside his hut. Her grin widens, and she starts heading that way, pausing when Draco grabs the sleeve of her robe.

"Where're you going," he asks, frowning, "I wanted to play a game of exploding snap."

"I haven't gotten a chance to speak with Hagrid, yet," she explains with a grin, "I haven't seen him in months."

"The groundskeeper," Draco asks with a scoff, "What could you want to speak to him about?"

"Bowtruckles," she answers with a shrug, causing the blonde to give her a strange look.

"Bowtruckles," he repeats in disbelief, "You can't be serious."

"I am serious," she bites back, shoulders tensing defensively, "And Hagrid is lovely company, Draco. He's very kind, and he has the most interesting facts about creatures."

"He's a great big oaf," he complains, glaring at her, "Come back to the common room."

"I'm going to meet with Hagrid," she tells him, pulling her sleeve from his grasp, "I'll meet up with you there afterward, I promise."

He looks ready to argue, but an icy glare keeps him silent. Instead, he huffs and storms off petulantly with his goons following behind him with confused and burly looks on their faces. She rolls her eyes at Draco's behavior before resuming her path to Hagrid's hut. As she approaches, she can see the giant tending to the garden next to his small wooden home. She hears a barreling bay moments before she's knocked onto her back, a large black mass of wriggling fur and panting breaths landing atop her.

"Fang!" Hagrid scolds as he whistles for the great mass of dog, causing the overly-excited hound to barrel back to his owner, leaving the laughing student in the grass, "Bloody beast," he mutters as he helps Charity to her feet, brushing her off with great sweeps of his hands that nearly knock her over, "Sorry 'bout that."

"It's no bother at all, Hagrid," she assures him with a beaming smile, "I've missed the both of you!"

"Charity!" he exclaims as he realizes who the girl standing before him is, smiling with twinkling eyes down at her, "Saw yer sorting," he tells her, "I knew yeh'd be in Slytherin. Yer a crafty one," he compliments.

"I was extremely happy to follow my father's footsteps in Hogwarts," she tells him excitedly, "What're you doing?"

"Jus' tendin' the garden," he tells her, gesturing to the patch before him with a dirtied hand, "How've classes been?"

"Brilliant," she tells him, shrugging, "Well, so far anyhow. Can I hunt for some insects while I'm here? I want to visit the bowtruckles."

"Wel, o' course yeh can," he exclaims with a bellow, "Whole lot o' 'em have been grumpy since yeh left."

"Have they," she asks excitedly as she grabs a jar from his porch and begins grabbing up random insects from the various plants of the garden as he continues tending it, the both of them working amicably, "I was worried they'd be mad at me for disappearing. They sure can hold grudges."

"They 'aven't been lettin' yer father trim any bark offa their tree since he found yeh and took yeh away. Been throwin' bits o' the bark at him instea'," Hagrid informs her while chuckling slightly, "Won' even let me get it fer him."

"Well, perhaps I'll get some while I'm there, then," she states, grinning as she stands to look at the jar half-full of crawling insects, "Think this is enough?"

"More 'an," Hagrid tells her, "Aren' that many of 'em."

"Yeah, I know, but I want to give them extra to apologize. I'll come back after for some tea?"

"I'd like 'at," Hagrid smiles, ushering her on, "Go on, then. OFf with yeh."

She chuckles and heads toward the forest, walking the line of it for a bit before ducking inside at a path. She heads just barely in before she recognizes the wiggentree. She approaches slowly, eyeing the branches intensely, only to see no movement.

"Hello," she calls out, grinning hesitantly, "I've come bearing insects for you guys! I hope you aren't cross with me."

After a long moment, parts of the tree seem to shift as a dozen or so little green stick creatures begin moving from their various hiding places and heading to the one branch that's low enough for the first-year to be eye-level with them. She grins as they all crowd around her, chittering their tiny noises and pulling at strands of hair. She chuckles and holds up the jar of insects, emptying a bit of it onto the branch and watching the bowtruckles easily grab the scurrying bugs to devour them quickly. She repeatedly does this until they seem full, then places the jar into a small opening in the tree.

"Those are for later," she tells them with a smile, "When you're hungry again."

They again chitter at her, one or two of them starting to climb the sleeves of her robes. She grins at the welcoming, relieved they hadn't blamed her for her disappearance. Still, though, they did blame her father. Her smile lessens slightly as she looks over them.

"Could I have some bark," she asks them, watching their chittering turn angry, "I know, my father can be rather rude sometimes, but we do need to keep up the stock of Wiggenweld potion here at Hogwarts. And, I'm a student now," she reminds them as a few start picking at her hair as they rest on her shoulders, "I can visit much more often. I could come every other Sunday, how about that?"

They seem to chitter amongst themselves for a few minutes before they all start tearing at the dying bark of their tree. She grins and starts following their example, placing the pieces into her bag periodically as she's handed small handfuls from the creatures. After a bit, she grins and extracts the two from her shoulders, waving goodbye to the branch of them as they begin heading in toward the jar she'd brought with her. She chuckles and continues her way back to Hagrid's hut, entering after knocking twice and grinning widely as he looks her over.

"I got a good supply of bark from them whilst I was there, but I had to promise bi-weekly visits," she informs him, causing him to laugh and hand her a large mug of steaming tea, "They're still rather cross at my father, though."

"I don' doubt it," Hagrid states as the two of them sit in chairs, Hagrid fitting far better into his than Charity, who's small frame is nearly swallowed by the large furniture.

They both sit in the warm hut talking. Hagrid does most of the talking, discussing the different creatures he's found recently in the forest and about different things he's learned from them. Charity simply sits back with a smile, listening eagerly to the information as she sips her tea, content to watch the excited man speak.

When it begins to get dark, Hagrid ushers her out with a warning to not miss curfew, and she heads back to the castle. She takes care to avoid the corridors where she can see the shadow of a cat lurking, not wanting to deal with Filch. Though, when she gets to the common room, she heads to her father's quarters and enters. She listens for a moment before she can hear a quill scribbling away in his office. She's suddenly nervous, her feet shifting. She heads to the door and slowly knocks, hearing the pause within.

"Enter."

His voice does little to lessen her nerves. She opens the door, seeing his eyes narrow slightly at her presence. She ducks her head slightly under the stare but maintains her stance as she waits for him to speak.

"Charity, you cannot enter my chambers any time you wish," he berates quietly, "You must stay among your peers."

"I know, Father," she tells him, weight shifting again as she holds the strap of her bag, "I brought you something, though."

His eyebrow twitches, raising slightly, but he sits back and waits as she grabs a large jar from one of his shelves. His face darkens slightly as she starts emptying the wiggentree bark into it until there is none left in her bag. She sets it on his desk, her nerves at a new high as she waits for his response.

"And how did you manage to acquire wiggentree bark," he asks pointedly, clearly knowing the answer.

"I went to see the bowtruckles," she admits softly, sighing, "I like them, Father, and they're barely into the forest at all, nowhere near the forbidden forest."

"That is not the point," he reminds her with a frown, "You are still a child, and you should not be going to the forest alone. The bowtruckles are not the only creatures in that forest, and certainly not the most dangerous."

"I'm aware, Father," she states to placate them, "But I always tell Hagrid when I'm going back there, so he stays nearby to listen for me. And… I'd heard that they'd been difficult with you and Hagrid since the last time I saw them, and I wanted to help."

Snape heaves a deep sigh as he looks over his daughter, who's looking down at her feet now that she's done speaking. He tries to find it in him to remain angry with her, but it's like grasping at straws. Instead, he settles back against his seat and takes the jar to observe the bark.

"You are very much like your mother," he tells her, watching her eyes snap up to his eagerly, silently searching for more information. He feels a small amount of guilt at seeing her expression. He never likes to speak of her mother, and she's polite enough to rarely ask, "She, too, had an interest in magical creatures. She had a kneazle in her youth."

"She did," Charity asks, smiling widely.

"Yes, indeed," he confirms, setting the jar down to look back at his daughter once more, "She also liked to sneak out into the forest to look for creatures. She had the misfortune of coming across a group of doxies in her fourth year and had to go to the hospital wing after being bitten several times."

"I promise, father, I only visit the bowtruckles. I won't wander the forest," she pleads, waiting for him.

"I am aware that I can no longer stop you as you are bound to sneak out to do it. I would rather you not do so often, and always with Hagrid nearby."

"I will!" she states in excitement, bouncing on her feet, "Thank you, Father!"

He merely nods and ushers her off so he can continue to grade the dismal summer work of his students. She hurriedly leaves his quarters before he can retract his permission and heads into the common room, seeing Draco playing exploding snap with Theodore Nott. She smiles widely and heads over, plopping into a seat next to Draco, who observes her with a raised eyebrow.

"Where've you been," he asks, plucking a stick from her hair and holding it up with a frown, "And why're you covered in sticks?"

"Bowtruckles," she answers, shrugging with a grin as he shakes his head, resuming his game as Nott eyes her with interest.

"Bowtruckles," he asks, tilting his head slightly.

"Yes, I was visiting bowtruckles in the forest," she tells him with a smile, "There's a small branch of them in the forest that guard a wiggentree. Hagrid showed them to me when I was younger, and I've been fascinated with them since."

"Aren't they just moving sticks," he comments snidely.

Charity opens her mouth to defend them, but her jaw falls in surprise when he's hit in the face by a quill, her quill. Draco snorts in laughter, and Nott glares at her.

"What was that for?" he demands.

"It wasn't me," she defends, searching through her bag to see her quill missing.

She sees Draco reach toward her hair again, only to snatch his hand back with a yelp of pain, looking in surprise at some small cuts on his fingers. She eyes them before she runs her fingers through her hair, a few more sticks and leaves falling loose before she feels arms wrap around a finger. She pulls her hand away, staring in surprise at the small green creature clutching her thumb and glaring at Nott and Draco, both of whom are staring at it.

"That's a bowtruckle," Nott states obviously, earning a raspberry from the creature, who glares petulantly at the boy.

"You brought one back," Draco asks, frowning, "Could've warned me before I reached for it," he complains.

"I didn't know," she insists, frowning at the small bowtruckle that now looks up at her, "Now, why did you hitch a ride like that? Surely your branch will be missing you."

It merely chitters, arms moving wildly as it speaks. She smiles fondly, seeing the anger on its face. It must be at odds with its branch.

"Fine, fine, but you're going back the next time I visit. You have until then to put whatever it is behind you," she insists, looking at it sternly, "And no more attacking students, or a teacher will take you back sooner."

It shoots another look at Nott before it climbs down from her hand and across her lap to climb back to her shoulder. Draco and Nott both watch it silently before looking to her oddly. She frowns slightly at them, tilting her head slightly.

"What?"

"You were talking to it," Nott states, frowning, "Can you understand them?"

"No, but I've spent enough time with them to know that they fight as only families can. I'd often see some of them leave to different trees until things have calmed down."

"You can't keep it in the dorm," Draco tells her, "The others will have hippogriffs if they see it."

"Yes, well, it can just stay on my bed. The wooden posts should mimic a tree well enough," she states, "And they're incredibly hard to find if they're hiding. It'll only be for a few weeks until I go back again next Sunday."

"Can you put it in Pansy's bed," Draco asks suddenly, eyeing the creature with interest, "Maybe it can gouge her eyes."

Nott snorts in laughter, and Charity smacks Draco's arm with a smile as he shrugs, the boys going back to their game as she continues to watch, now aware of the weight on her shoulder as the bowtruckle watches the exploding cards with deep interest. After a few games, she bids Draco goodnight and retires to her bed, watching the bowtruckle get comfortable among the fabric at the top of her bed-posts before she drifts to sleep.

And that's that! There's another chapter done and over with! I'm already working on the next chapter and hopefully will have it up soon!

Much love,

~GharrahGirl