Disclaimer: None of what you recognize is mine. Abby is my creation, as if the plot (although many other fics I've read have been inspiration) and even those all are in a world I don't own. Credit goes to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers and all other corporations that are the Harry Potter Empire.
A.N. I'm very sorry this took me so long to put out. It was fairly hard to write because of the amount of background information I put into it. I also wasn't as motivated as I was before, which may have been part of it. Anyways, here's the next chapter. It should explain some things. I hope you enjoy, and please review and give your honest opinion.
Chapter Four
Pictures of the Past
Severus Snape was a self proclaimed idiot. Either that or he was loosing his mind. He wasn't quite sure which scenario was more appealing. Whichever way he justified it, he had leant use of his private, perfected, methodically organized library to a student. No, correct that, an ex-student. An ex-student who would no doubt allow her daughter access in, the daughter whom would get her grubby little fingers into everything. Maybe the crazy part was that a very small (and increasingly annoying) part of him was saying he'd enjoy their company in his library and he knew it. Ah, so he was delusional.
Interrupting his internal diatribe with a cup of strong coffee, for it was too early at little later than noon for large consumptions of alcohol, he headed into the very library that was the source of his musings. Picking up a rather dusty version of Ars Alchema, he took a seat and opened to somewhere in the middle.
Somewhere about a third of the way down the page, he realized his mind was not going to co-operate. Why was he so surprised that she was here? Granted, he, along with everyone he had spoken to about it, had thought she was dead, and those who had known about the child had though the same fate had been bestowed upon her as well. But she was here.
And Draco would be as well. Ah, there was that tell-tale beginning of a migraine. Placing the book aside, he stood and swept out of the library.
He really needed to talk to Draco.
~*~
As had been expected, everyone was in the dining area promptly at six, however the host was absent, not that the large group was paying a lot of attention to who wasn't there, but rather who was. Hermione had been through an exhausting series of 'Hello, how are you?'s and 'It's so nice to see you again, how have you been?'s.
Yes, even she would admit it had been terribly nice to see everyone again, especially old friends and teachers, like Remus Lupin and Neville Longbottom. Although how Neville had gotten through the front door without Professor Snape hexing him into oblivion Hermione really didn't know. Neville himself had grown up quite a bit, though he was as awkward as he had ever been, shattering a wine glass he had been drinking from when he dropped it. She had been even more surprised to see Professor McGonagall, who had insisted she start calling her Minerva. Ecstatic as she had been to see her old transfiguration teacher, she was equally as surprised as to the state she was in.
Minerva McGonagall seemed much smaller now then she ever had in the past. The war had definitely taken a harsh effect on her. Her face more creased and step less sure than is had even been before. The final battle had left her worse off than most, several curses having hit her. Hermione had heard she had spent two months in a make-shift hospital and even that had left her worse off then most; she had never quite recovered. Everyone seemed exhausted, but that didn't stop them from all cooing over Abby, who giggled delightedly at the attention.
"So this is your daughter?" Hermione turned around, only to see Draco Malfoy, arms crossed over his chest and brow raised sceptically at the child.
"Yes, this is Abby," she said softly, not quite meeting his eyes.
"Father thought she died in the final battle, you know. Actually, neither of us quite thought either of you would have survived, odds were against you, after all. Some Death Eaters do have something of a personal vendetta against Mudbloods. He'd be quite intrigued to know she was living hear, wouldn't you say?"
"What do you want Draco?"
"Is it a crime to want to see ones half sister?" Growling slightly, Hermione turned on her heel and left the room, a very confused Abby in her arms while Draco stood, smirking in her wake.
~*~
"What the hell was that?"
"Uncle, Uncle, don't worry. It was nothing, just a little old house rivalries that still linger." Draco was lounging in one of Severus' large chairs, feet propped up on the coffee table, and swirling the red wine around in his glass with a bored looking smirk.
"Hardly," snarled the older man, leaning against the large stone fireplace with a fixed glare at the younger man. "She probably thinks you're serious about throwing her, or her child, to the proverbial lion."
"Then let her. A good dose of fear is healthy."
"Not when we're already balancing precariously on the wills of the people in this house! The last thing we need is to be discovered due to one of our own doing something careless because of your poorly executed threats!"
"Then, dear Uncle, we lie and say we rounded them up for a feast, so to say. The proverbial lion and his master would enjoy that, wouldn't you say? All we have to do is bend to the whims of the winds and we'll be home free."
"Firstly, that is not what I'm here to do, and if you are, I suggest you leave. Secondly, the Dark Lord wouldn't fall for it anyways. Surely you haven't forgotten the last person who decided to surprise him with a gift, have you?" When Draco paled ever so slightly, he nodded. "I thought as much. I know you didn't want her here Draco, but I could hardly send her away."
"And, pray tell, why not?"
"You're not that naive Draco. If she leaves, how many else do you think will leave with her? All the Weasleys, certainly, along with probably Minerva and several others. As soon as people knew she wasn't allowed in, she'd get the pity vote, and we'd be, at very least, short handed." Severus sighed, finally resigning himself to take a seat.
"My father would kill her, you know. He tried once." Severus sighed softly.
"That was in your sixth year, Draco. There was nothing to have been done. It's in the past, you need to move on. She seems to have."
"I have moved on!"
"Then it's hardly a big deal that's she is here."
"I'm going to bed," Draco snarled, getting up and stocking off, leaving Severus sitting quite alone.
~*~
Why did he have to be here? The one person she really didn't want to see. She would have taken on ten Severus Snape's if she could have avoided seeing him, the blatant reminder of what she had spent two years getting away from, two years ensuring that she could live in peace with Abby, who was already reminder enough, without having to look into the eyes that were so similar.
As much as she had struggled with keeping her mind away from what had occurred in her sixth year, it was so hard not to drift back, to not allow the occurrences of that year to resurface. Her sixth year was when was when Voldemort had been on a steady rise, and had made his presence known. The stories in the Daily Profit proved that quite readily, and even with that, they had all gone to Hogsmeade as carefree as they had ever gone.
She closed her eyes, getting up off the bed, doubting if she'd be able to sleep anyways. She had managed to put away the majority of their belongings, including finding room for a small chest in the bedside table for a few more personal items, securing it with several charms and wards. Removing it now took longer than she perhaps wished it had due to that, but she didn't want anyone to find it, especially Abby. Bringing the small, wooden box back to her bed, she sat cross-legged with it in front of her, taking a breath before she allowed herself to open it.
Laying the pictures in front of her on the bed, she reached for the one closest. Her, Harry, and Ron. It had been awhile since she had cried over the sight of their trio, but she was getting dangerously close at the moment. She was the only third that was still free. Harry had died at Voldemort's hand in the final battle, while Ron had been taken into captivity shortly after, and she hadn't seen him since, nor did she know what had become of him, though the stories she had heard gave her the indication that she perhaps didn't want to. The final battle had turned into a lot more than they had prepared for. They couldn't have. Voldemort's strength had surprised them all, taking out many of their more experienced aurors and Order members, leaving the rest scrambling. It hadn't taken long for Harry to be separated from his protection. She closed her eyes trying to stop the tears that were threatening. Had they really expected a person so young to defend himself against Voldemort? To kill him?
If there was one thing she was glad of, it was that she hadn't seen it. She hadn't seen her best friend fall. She had, however, been helpless as her other best friend had been led off in between two cloaked Death Eaters as she was pulled in the opposite direction by Remus Lupin.
Sighing softly and wiping her cheeks, she pulled out a small clipping from the box and unfolding the creased paper. The headline, which had been spotted and slightly smudged, read "Attack on Hogsmeade". She had been their weapon against Harry, symbolic of what Voldemort was capable of, and what he was willing to do. To try and break him and to try and scare the rest of them. She had been taken from Hogsmeade, from under the chaperones noses, and handed over to Lucius Malfoy, who had exploited the opportunity to its full extent in every way imaginable.
It had only been two months after returning to Hogwarts that she had discovered she was pregnant. She found the first picture of her daughter, born slightly premature, but still healthy. She smiled slightly, it really was irrelevant how her daughter was conceived, for Abby was hers, not Lucius Malfoy's, or anyone else's.
She had been in the custody of Death Eaters for nearly a month before Severus Snape had found her and taken her back to Hogwarts. She winced slightly at the recollection. Everything was different afterwards, even her best friends had changed in the month. Sure, they were still there, but they weren't the same towards her, nor was she the same towards them.
Flipping threw a few more pictures, ones of her pregnant at various stages, or of Abby when she was young, along with a few of Harry and Ron during their seventh year, she started to cry. Curling herself into a small ball, she fell asleep amongst pictures of the past.
A.N.
I want to say thank you to the following:
DistinctVagueness: Thanks so much. Actually, Snape did know about Abby, since Hermione gave birth while she was still in school. He's more surprised that they're alive than anything else. Thanks again for the review! I love hearing from the people who's stuff I read before I decided to write.
Secret Agent Smut Girl: Thanks for the review. As for the plan, well, you'll see.
deborahfr: I hope you're not disappointed to the history that was revealed in the chapter. I love hearing your theories, so if you have anymore, please tell me! Also, in reference to the 'half-blood' part, I think I created more confusion. I was considering it as Hermione being the muggle part (in the same way Lily was the muggle part that caused Harry to be halfblooded), and therefore making Abby's father a wizard. Thanks for the review!
