VII.
Severus opened the door to his dungeon chambers. He had chosen them over his other options, all of which were elaborate rooms upstairs by the other teachers. Those didn't quite... suit him. And besides, he never truly felt that he deserved such plush surroundings after the things he had done while under Voldemort.
The room was comfortable for him, with grey stone walls bare of all but a few hangings, a stone floor, and a fireplace. Across from the fireplace stood his bed, a mahogany four poster draped with thick green curtains. There was a low couch set in front of the fire layered with a few threadbare pillows, and several bookshelves, overflowing with novels, lined the room. Adjoining the room was the washroom, which consisted of a sink, mirror, toilet, and a very old fashioned bathtub that rested on four clawed metal feet.
Everything was sparse, which is just how he preferred it. And Cecil had taken after him, whether he had wanted her to or not. Since his arrival at Hogwarts with the two-year-old, he had rarely gone anywhere without her.
As a child, while she had still been too young to be left alone, she had toddled around after him as he taught Potions class, clinging with one fist to the bottom of his robes while purposefully sucking the thumb of her other hand. Perhaps it was not the most effective way of teaching a class, but he made it work. The first week or so, the girls tended to stare adoringly at the brown-haired child, neglecting their notes. But he quickly choked that habit by severely docking points for the offending houses. Soon hardly an eye strayed to his tag-along.
He had never been forced to drastically alter his living habits, even with the addition of Cecil. She simply blended into his life with uncanny ease. Her own quarters were as bare as Severus', the walls strung with only a few of the pictures she had scrawled in her colours. She had accepted his ways with the simplicity of how she had accepted the fact that Severus would be her father.
The entire faculty loved the little girl and would slip her candy and presents when they thought that Snape wasn't looking. But he saw as well as he heard the whispered comments about the 'poor child.' They pitied her because of the fact that Severus was the one caring for her. As if he would force her to grow up into some horrible monster. Idiots.
The truth was, he was probably too overly protective of her. He didn't allow her outside without his specific presence there to watch out for her. He lived in constant fear the Lucius would come back and snatch her away from him.
He couldn't let that happen. She was all that he had in the world. Her blue eyes held the fate of his soul, and while they did, he would not burn for his crimes. Just so long as he had her.
And nothing, *nothing* would take her away from him.
He sat down heavily on the couch, waving his wand at the fireplace. Flames immediately leapt up, sending licks of warmth out to caress his weary body. He leaned his head back against the cushions. "Cecil?" he called.
There was a pause, during with the familiar panic shot through him, before he heard her footsteps on the stone. She appeared at the side of the sofa, a tall thin thing of seven. "Yes, Father?"
His black eyes turned to regard her. "I was just seeing where you were. You may go back." She had been playing, probably, and would want to return.
Instead, she crawled up next to him, resting her small head on his shoulder. "You were gone all day," she commented. Normally, he came back to spend time with her between classes, but today Dumbledore had called a staff meeting. He had had more news of Voldemort, news that Severus did not particularly wish to hear.
He wanted to forget that he had ever looked upon Voldemort's face, ever called him 'my Lord,' ever bowed to him, ever wanted to be a part of his dark Cause. But it was impossible, all of it.
Instead, he instinctively wrapped an arm around Cecil, halfway enveloping her in his voluminous robes. "I'm sorry," he responded softly, the firelight reflecting in his inky gaze.
"S'ok." She squirmed away from him, leaping down off the cushions. "Night, Daddy."
"Goodnight," he said absently, still watching the flames. It took him a full two minutes to realize that she was gone. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps he wasn't fit to raise a child. He had a deep fear that she would turn out to be a female version of himself- cold, detached, uncaring, unforgiving... everything that he didn't want her to be. And maybe she would. After all, she tended to take after him too much the way it was.
But what else could he do? He didn't know a better way.
The fire had long since died by the time he roused himself. The small clock sitting on the mantle struck the time. One o'clock. He forced himself to rise, his bones popping back into place as he stretched out his tall frame wearily.
Before going to bed, he cracked the door to Cecil's room open and looked in. The sounds of her even breathing reached his ears, for the moment soothing his previous fears. Out of habit, he cast various wards around her bed, ensuring her safety through the night.
A voice in his head told him that he couldn't protect her forever, that one day she would grow up and have a life of her own. But he immediately crushed the idea. Of course he could protect her. And he would. Nothing and no one would ever hurt her. Not so long as he was around to prevent it.
* * *
The years passed, as they tended to do, and Cecil grew up before Snape's watchful eyes. He noted everything she did, every Hogwarts student she conversed with, and made specific care to see that she did not associate with any of the Slytherins.
His greatest fear was that he would not be able to control her forever.
That fear was added to one day when he left Hogwarts in search of her. She had been walking the grounds that morning and hadn't come back for lunch. His long, brisk strides brought him towards the gates of Hogwarts. Sure enough, she stood there, her black wizarding robes billowing around her slim figure in the wind, and her brown curls dancing around her head.
He paused, watching her. When had she grown so beautiful? He hadn't really noticed her change in the rush from a bumbling child to a graceful young woman of sixteen. It seemed to have happened in a flash, like a spell had suddenly transfigured the babe to what he saw before him.
He was proud of her, so proud, so thankful that he hadn't somehow scarred her childhood or affected her in some adverse way. Obviously he hadn't, since she had ended up being sorted in Ravenclaw. The moment the Hat had yelled out her house, he had breathed a sigh of relief. It was assurance that she would not turn out like him.
He took another step towards her, hesitant to approach. She seemed lost in another world, her bright eyes gazing past the bars of the gates to... Merlin knows where. Her slim fingers wrapped around the bars and she stood on tiptoe to get a better view.
Clearing his throat, he finally caught her attention. She turned, surprised to find herself being watched. "Oh! Morning."
He fixed his eyes on her, his mouth straightening into a firm line. "Morning? It's past afternoon, Cecil. You missed lunch."
Her hand flew to her mouth. "I'm sorry... I just... lost track of the time."
"For three hours? What on earth could have possibly consumed your attentions for so long?"
She glanced at the ground. "I was just... thinking." She looked back over her shoulder, and this time Severus caught the distinctly wistful look in her eyes.
"About... what? Hopefully about your studies. You know I expect you to be at the top of your class this year."
"Again," she said softly. "Yes, I am aware of your expectations. But..."
"What?"
"It's just... nevermind." She started off for Hogwarts, her arms folded across her chest. He caught her by the wrist.
"Cecil... talk to me." His tone was severe, as it always was, but his eyes spoke otherwise. And she had learned over the years to read those eyes, the eyes that most thought emotionless.
"I've... never been... out there." She gestured to the gates. "Everyone else gets to leave for the holidays and summers. We stay here." She noticed the alarmed look on his face, and though she didn't understand it, knew to amend her statement. "I don't want to live elsewhere, Father, but... I just want to see what it's like."
For a moment, Severus couldn't speak. He swallowed around the lump that rose in his throat and tore his gaze away from her eyes. "We shall see, Cecil." He turned away from her. "Now go inside. You still have classes today, after all."
She stared after him, confused. Why couldn't they leave? What was so bad out there that they must remained locked behind the doors of the school? But she had never questioned Severus in the past, and now was certainly no time to start. She nodded slowly. "Yes, Father."
Snape approached the gates, mirroring Cecil's actions and grasping the bars. He let his cheek rest against the cool metal. "Where are you, Lucius?" he whispered. "Will you come for us the moment we set foot outside these walls? Are you still waiting for me after all these years?"
He received no answer from the woods surrounding Hogwarts, nor did he expect to. A wearied sigh escaped his lips and he turned back to follow Cecil inside.
END CHAPTER SEVEN
Notes: Sort of a random, transitional chapter here, but I managed to slip some plot line in at the end. Not really sure what I think of it. But I just adore the passage about Cecil following Snape around while he taught. I don't know why, I just do... Anyway, more to come!
Oh, and Storm... MEEP!
Severus opened the door to his dungeon chambers. He had chosen them over his other options, all of which were elaborate rooms upstairs by the other teachers. Those didn't quite... suit him. And besides, he never truly felt that he deserved such plush surroundings after the things he had done while under Voldemort.
The room was comfortable for him, with grey stone walls bare of all but a few hangings, a stone floor, and a fireplace. Across from the fireplace stood his bed, a mahogany four poster draped with thick green curtains. There was a low couch set in front of the fire layered with a few threadbare pillows, and several bookshelves, overflowing with novels, lined the room. Adjoining the room was the washroom, which consisted of a sink, mirror, toilet, and a very old fashioned bathtub that rested on four clawed metal feet.
Everything was sparse, which is just how he preferred it. And Cecil had taken after him, whether he had wanted her to or not. Since his arrival at Hogwarts with the two-year-old, he had rarely gone anywhere without her.
As a child, while she had still been too young to be left alone, she had toddled around after him as he taught Potions class, clinging with one fist to the bottom of his robes while purposefully sucking the thumb of her other hand. Perhaps it was not the most effective way of teaching a class, but he made it work. The first week or so, the girls tended to stare adoringly at the brown-haired child, neglecting their notes. But he quickly choked that habit by severely docking points for the offending houses. Soon hardly an eye strayed to his tag-along.
He had never been forced to drastically alter his living habits, even with the addition of Cecil. She simply blended into his life with uncanny ease. Her own quarters were as bare as Severus', the walls strung with only a few of the pictures she had scrawled in her colours. She had accepted his ways with the simplicity of how she had accepted the fact that Severus would be her father.
The entire faculty loved the little girl and would slip her candy and presents when they thought that Snape wasn't looking. But he saw as well as he heard the whispered comments about the 'poor child.' They pitied her because of the fact that Severus was the one caring for her. As if he would force her to grow up into some horrible monster. Idiots.
The truth was, he was probably too overly protective of her. He didn't allow her outside without his specific presence there to watch out for her. He lived in constant fear the Lucius would come back and snatch her away from him.
He couldn't let that happen. She was all that he had in the world. Her blue eyes held the fate of his soul, and while they did, he would not burn for his crimes. Just so long as he had her.
And nothing, *nothing* would take her away from him.
He sat down heavily on the couch, waving his wand at the fireplace. Flames immediately leapt up, sending licks of warmth out to caress his weary body. He leaned his head back against the cushions. "Cecil?" he called.
There was a pause, during with the familiar panic shot through him, before he heard her footsteps on the stone. She appeared at the side of the sofa, a tall thin thing of seven. "Yes, Father?"
His black eyes turned to regard her. "I was just seeing where you were. You may go back." She had been playing, probably, and would want to return.
Instead, she crawled up next to him, resting her small head on his shoulder. "You were gone all day," she commented. Normally, he came back to spend time with her between classes, but today Dumbledore had called a staff meeting. He had had more news of Voldemort, news that Severus did not particularly wish to hear.
He wanted to forget that he had ever looked upon Voldemort's face, ever called him 'my Lord,' ever bowed to him, ever wanted to be a part of his dark Cause. But it was impossible, all of it.
Instead, he instinctively wrapped an arm around Cecil, halfway enveloping her in his voluminous robes. "I'm sorry," he responded softly, the firelight reflecting in his inky gaze.
"S'ok." She squirmed away from him, leaping down off the cushions. "Night, Daddy."
"Goodnight," he said absently, still watching the flames. It took him a full two minutes to realize that she was gone. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps he wasn't fit to raise a child. He had a deep fear that she would turn out to be a female version of himself- cold, detached, uncaring, unforgiving... everything that he didn't want her to be. And maybe she would. After all, she tended to take after him too much the way it was.
But what else could he do? He didn't know a better way.
The fire had long since died by the time he roused himself. The small clock sitting on the mantle struck the time. One o'clock. He forced himself to rise, his bones popping back into place as he stretched out his tall frame wearily.
Before going to bed, he cracked the door to Cecil's room open and looked in. The sounds of her even breathing reached his ears, for the moment soothing his previous fears. Out of habit, he cast various wards around her bed, ensuring her safety through the night.
A voice in his head told him that he couldn't protect her forever, that one day she would grow up and have a life of her own. But he immediately crushed the idea. Of course he could protect her. And he would. Nothing and no one would ever hurt her. Not so long as he was around to prevent it.
* * *
The years passed, as they tended to do, and Cecil grew up before Snape's watchful eyes. He noted everything she did, every Hogwarts student she conversed with, and made specific care to see that she did not associate with any of the Slytherins.
His greatest fear was that he would not be able to control her forever.
That fear was added to one day when he left Hogwarts in search of her. She had been walking the grounds that morning and hadn't come back for lunch. His long, brisk strides brought him towards the gates of Hogwarts. Sure enough, she stood there, her black wizarding robes billowing around her slim figure in the wind, and her brown curls dancing around her head.
He paused, watching her. When had she grown so beautiful? He hadn't really noticed her change in the rush from a bumbling child to a graceful young woman of sixteen. It seemed to have happened in a flash, like a spell had suddenly transfigured the babe to what he saw before him.
He was proud of her, so proud, so thankful that he hadn't somehow scarred her childhood or affected her in some adverse way. Obviously he hadn't, since she had ended up being sorted in Ravenclaw. The moment the Hat had yelled out her house, he had breathed a sigh of relief. It was assurance that she would not turn out like him.
He took another step towards her, hesitant to approach. She seemed lost in another world, her bright eyes gazing past the bars of the gates to... Merlin knows where. Her slim fingers wrapped around the bars and she stood on tiptoe to get a better view.
Clearing his throat, he finally caught her attention. She turned, surprised to find herself being watched. "Oh! Morning."
He fixed his eyes on her, his mouth straightening into a firm line. "Morning? It's past afternoon, Cecil. You missed lunch."
Her hand flew to her mouth. "I'm sorry... I just... lost track of the time."
"For three hours? What on earth could have possibly consumed your attentions for so long?"
She glanced at the ground. "I was just... thinking." She looked back over her shoulder, and this time Severus caught the distinctly wistful look in her eyes.
"About... what? Hopefully about your studies. You know I expect you to be at the top of your class this year."
"Again," she said softly. "Yes, I am aware of your expectations. But..."
"What?"
"It's just... nevermind." She started off for Hogwarts, her arms folded across her chest. He caught her by the wrist.
"Cecil... talk to me." His tone was severe, as it always was, but his eyes spoke otherwise. And she had learned over the years to read those eyes, the eyes that most thought emotionless.
"I've... never been... out there." She gestured to the gates. "Everyone else gets to leave for the holidays and summers. We stay here." She noticed the alarmed look on his face, and though she didn't understand it, knew to amend her statement. "I don't want to live elsewhere, Father, but... I just want to see what it's like."
For a moment, Severus couldn't speak. He swallowed around the lump that rose in his throat and tore his gaze away from her eyes. "We shall see, Cecil." He turned away from her. "Now go inside. You still have classes today, after all."
She stared after him, confused. Why couldn't they leave? What was so bad out there that they must remained locked behind the doors of the school? But she had never questioned Severus in the past, and now was certainly no time to start. She nodded slowly. "Yes, Father."
Snape approached the gates, mirroring Cecil's actions and grasping the bars. He let his cheek rest against the cool metal. "Where are you, Lucius?" he whispered. "Will you come for us the moment we set foot outside these walls? Are you still waiting for me after all these years?"
He received no answer from the woods surrounding Hogwarts, nor did he expect to. A wearied sigh escaped his lips and he turned back to follow Cecil inside.
END CHAPTER SEVEN
Notes: Sort of a random, transitional chapter here, but I managed to slip some plot line in at the end. Not really sure what I think of it. But I just adore the passage about Cecil following Snape around while he taught. I don't know why, I just do... Anyway, more to come!
Oh, and Storm... MEEP!