AN: This again, isn't what I expected it to be, but I have to set up a few things in the plot before I can just come out and give away the entire story. Sorry about that. Again, the female character is not going to have any romantic interest in Harry or Ron. Well, have fun reading and please review. ~Bobbi
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, JK Rowling owns all...... but if I did own Bill Weasley...... well, I wouldn't be sitting here typing this on a Sunday morning.....
In the great hall there was only one table set up, since few people were staying for the holidays. Fred and George had gone home but Mrs. Weasley had agreed it was for the best that Ron and Ginny stay, if only to keep Hermione and Harry company. Hermione's parents were in America, visiting relatives who weren't quite aware of Hermione's.... ehm....... talent.
At the other end of the table, Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy held down the fort for Slytherin, Jacob VanReich and Kelly Ashland were the only Ravenclaws and all the Hufflepuffs had gone home. Professors Sprout, McGonnagol, Dumbledore, Snape, Vector and Flitwick were all there as well.
"Uncle Severus, would you please pass the potatoes?" Elizabeth asked, smiling falsely at her uncle.
"Here," he said, shoving them toward the 'Gryffindor end' of the table, his sneer growing. It reached its apex when he glanced to her right, at Harry.
Malfoy almost had roast beef coming out of his nose. "Uncle???" he sputtered, trying to regain some dignity.
"Yes, Malfoy. Uncle. This young woman is Elizabeth--" he paused, as if trying to decide what her last name was, "Snape. She is my sister's daughter. As you may well have noticed Elizabeth is a Gryffindor for the time being."
"How...." Malfoy quailed under the glare Snape sent his way. "Professor Flitwick, would you please pass the pumpkin juice?"
Back in the Common Room later that night, Elizabeth gazed into the fire, wondering who her father was. It was always around Christmas time that she missed her parents the most. Obviously, she had never known her father, but still, there was a longing for a father figure that she never escaped. In the beginning she'd looked for a father figure in Uncle Severus, but a fat lot of good that had done her.
"Elizabeth?" Hermione said timidly stepping into the room.
"Hmmm?"
"It's just about time to come upstairs. I just thought I'd tell you."
"Thanks. I'll be up in a minute," Elizabeth said sighing and giving the fire one last glance.
Upstairs Elizabeth pulled out her only gift from her father, a stuffed eagle. She'd named him Will, after him. His feathers were ratty and barely recognizable any more, but he was hers. Elizabeth hugged Will to her and sat down to write a letter to her mother. She did that every Christmas and Easter, her mother's favorite holidays. She always sent her mother's letters to Hogsmeade, where her mother was buried. This year, she'd place the letter at her mother's grave herself.
"What's that?" Ginny asked, peeking over Elizabeth's shoulder.
"This?" Elizabeth said holding Will up, "He's the stuffed animal my father gave me before he disappeared. His name's Will. And this," she said gesturing to the parchment, "is a letter to my mother I write them on holidays, just so she knows I still think of her though she's not here."
"Oh..." Ginny couldn't think of an appropriate response to either statement.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So Harry, what do you think of Elizabeth?" Ron asked, plopping down on his bed.
"She seems nice enough, although I keep getting this nagging sensation that we've met before. She's so familiar," Harry said laying back and looking at his canopy. "It's kind of odd though, because she reminds me of someone or something long ago, even before...." his finger traced the scar running down his forehead. Harry sighed and rolled over.
"She seems great. I would love to introduce her to Fred and George. They'd take to her easily. I wonder if dung bombs are the same in France....." Ron continued on this vein, about Filibuster Fireworks and went right into Chocolate Frogs and Every Flavor Beans. "Harry?"
"Hm?"
"What's wrong? You haven't been yourself today," Ron said sympathetically.
"There's a few reasons and they all revolve around the fact that I have absolutely no family. Yeah, I've got Remus and Sirius, but they can't be around all the time and my Mum and Dad are dead, buried in Godric's Hollow and then I see you and your huge, loving family and I just get jealous. You know?"
"Believe me, jealousy works both ways my friend. I look at my family, we don't have quite enough money, ever. I'm the sixth boy, so much to live up to. Then I look at you, with your Quidditch skills and your fame and your money and think what a nice place it would be if I had that," Ron said staring at the floor. "I know you go through hell every time something happens, but just one day I'd like to have what you have."
"Y'know Ron, sometimes I think we should just switch places for a week. That's wishful thinking," Harry paused, "G'night Ron. And if it's past midnight, Merry Christmas."
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, JK Rowling owns all...... but if I did own Bill Weasley...... well, I wouldn't be sitting here typing this on a Sunday morning.....
In the great hall there was only one table set up, since few people were staying for the holidays. Fred and George had gone home but Mrs. Weasley had agreed it was for the best that Ron and Ginny stay, if only to keep Hermione and Harry company. Hermione's parents were in America, visiting relatives who weren't quite aware of Hermione's.... ehm....... talent.
At the other end of the table, Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy held down the fort for Slytherin, Jacob VanReich and Kelly Ashland were the only Ravenclaws and all the Hufflepuffs had gone home. Professors Sprout, McGonnagol, Dumbledore, Snape, Vector and Flitwick were all there as well.
"Uncle Severus, would you please pass the potatoes?" Elizabeth asked, smiling falsely at her uncle.
"Here," he said, shoving them toward the 'Gryffindor end' of the table, his sneer growing. It reached its apex when he glanced to her right, at Harry.
Malfoy almost had roast beef coming out of his nose. "Uncle???" he sputtered, trying to regain some dignity.
"Yes, Malfoy. Uncle. This young woman is Elizabeth--" he paused, as if trying to decide what her last name was, "Snape. She is my sister's daughter. As you may well have noticed Elizabeth is a Gryffindor for the time being."
"How...." Malfoy quailed under the glare Snape sent his way. "Professor Flitwick, would you please pass the pumpkin juice?"
Back in the Common Room later that night, Elizabeth gazed into the fire, wondering who her father was. It was always around Christmas time that she missed her parents the most. Obviously, she had never known her father, but still, there was a longing for a father figure that she never escaped. In the beginning she'd looked for a father figure in Uncle Severus, but a fat lot of good that had done her.
"Elizabeth?" Hermione said timidly stepping into the room.
"Hmmm?"
"It's just about time to come upstairs. I just thought I'd tell you."
"Thanks. I'll be up in a minute," Elizabeth said sighing and giving the fire one last glance.
Upstairs Elizabeth pulled out her only gift from her father, a stuffed eagle. She'd named him Will, after him. His feathers were ratty and barely recognizable any more, but he was hers. Elizabeth hugged Will to her and sat down to write a letter to her mother. She did that every Christmas and Easter, her mother's favorite holidays. She always sent her mother's letters to Hogsmeade, where her mother was buried. This year, she'd place the letter at her mother's grave herself.
"What's that?" Ginny asked, peeking over Elizabeth's shoulder.
"This?" Elizabeth said holding Will up, "He's the stuffed animal my father gave me before he disappeared. His name's Will. And this," she said gesturing to the parchment, "is a letter to my mother I write them on holidays, just so she knows I still think of her though she's not here."
"Oh..." Ginny couldn't think of an appropriate response to either statement.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So Harry, what do you think of Elizabeth?" Ron asked, plopping down on his bed.
"She seems nice enough, although I keep getting this nagging sensation that we've met before. She's so familiar," Harry said laying back and looking at his canopy. "It's kind of odd though, because she reminds me of someone or something long ago, even before...." his finger traced the scar running down his forehead. Harry sighed and rolled over.
"She seems great. I would love to introduce her to Fred and George. They'd take to her easily. I wonder if dung bombs are the same in France....." Ron continued on this vein, about Filibuster Fireworks and went right into Chocolate Frogs and Every Flavor Beans. "Harry?"
"Hm?"
"What's wrong? You haven't been yourself today," Ron said sympathetically.
"There's a few reasons and they all revolve around the fact that I have absolutely no family. Yeah, I've got Remus and Sirius, but they can't be around all the time and my Mum and Dad are dead, buried in Godric's Hollow and then I see you and your huge, loving family and I just get jealous. You know?"
"Believe me, jealousy works both ways my friend. I look at my family, we don't have quite enough money, ever. I'm the sixth boy, so much to live up to. Then I look at you, with your Quidditch skills and your fame and your money and think what a nice place it would be if I had that," Ron said staring at the floor. "I know you go through hell every time something happens, but just one day I'd like to have what you have."
"Y'know Ron, sometimes I think we should just switch places for a week. That's wishful thinking," Harry paused, "G'night Ron. And if it's past midnight, Merry Christmas."
