AN: This was not supposed to take so long! I swear, I finished this at least a week ago, but something got screwed up with ff.net and it wouldn't let me log into my account. Long story short, I had to wait forever for them to fix it so I could post again. The next chapter is almost done though, so you won't have to wait too long this time. This one's not as long as the others, I know, but the tone changed between this and the next part was so jolting that I decided to separate it. Well, here's the next bit. Enjoy!
Chapter Eight: The Letter
"And the verdict?" Dumbledore asked upon his return to the hospital ward. He looked down at a pale and sleeping Sianna, the sparkle nearly faded from his already troubled eyes.
Madam Pomfrey looked up from the chart she was filling out. "A dislocated shoulder, shattered collarbone, and various cuts and bruises. It's a miracle that she managed to stay on the broom at all! The moment that Bludger hit, her left arm would have been rendered entirely useless...this could have turned out much worse," she said, sending an accusing glare at Draco, who was keeping vigilance beside Sianna's bed.
Dumbledore sighed and sat heavily next to him. Draco nodded in greeting and looked up at Madam Pomfrey, who was still writing busily and asked suddenly, "What is all that?"
"All what?" she asked irritably in return, not seeing that he was gesturing to her clipboard.
"Those forms you're filling out," he explained.
"These are just general medical records. I have one on file for every student," she said proudly, putting down the clipboard and walking over to one of the many cabinets full of medicines, potions, and salves. She rummaged around for a minute, but apparently did not find what she was looking for.
She pulled her head out of the cupboard and looked around. "Now where did Professor Snape get off to?" she wondered aloud.
"I believe he returned to the dungeons several minutes ago," Dumbledore informed her. "Do you need something?"
"I'm just wondering if he happens to have any Rhesus Determination Solution on hand in his stores. Miss Castell needs a dose of Bone Marrow Restorative, but I have to know if she's Rh positive or negative before I give it to her," Madam Pomfrey explained. Bone Marrow Restorative had to be brewed in a slightly different manner for each type of blood, and while Madam Pomfrey could tell with a simple spell that Sianna had type O blood, she did not know whether that was O-positive or O-negative, and could only find out with the potion.
"I'll go ask him," Draco volunteered, tired of sitting and sick of the hospital wing in general. A walk would do him good, and it would get him out of the way of Madam Pomfrey's scolding glances.
Before anyone could protest, he was out of the hospital wing and on his way to the dungeons, walking briskly to stretch his coltishly long legs. He checked Professor Snape's classroom, office, and chambers before finally locating the man in his private lab. The door was closed, but there was light shining through the gap above the floor and the distinct sound of boot heels clicking within. Draco knocked twice in rapid succession and waited. He knew from experience that the professor would never answer the knock himself, but would merely command the door to open on its own. Just as Draco had predicted, the door swung inward a moment later to reveal Snape searching his shelves for some unknown substance, three separate cauldrons behind him boiling and smoking over meticulously controlled flames.
"Can I help you, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked silkily, still facing his shelves. He turned slowly and gazed at his pupil expectantly.
"Sir, Madam Pomfrey wants to know if you have any Rhesus Determination Solution in your stores," Draco said, standing as straight as a board, his hands linked behind his back in respect.
Snape let out his breath in an annoyed huff, shaking his head at the woman's folly. That potion took weeks to make and could not be stored for more than two months before combined with a person's blood, besides the fact that one very rarely found occasion to use it at all. There was only one function of the substance, and the draft was not widely known, even in the potions community.
"Of course I do not have any. What could she possibly need it for?" he asked.
"She wants to know Sianna's blood type, or something like that, so she can prepare a dose of Bone Marrow Restorative," Draco explained.
Snape sighed. "Go tell her that I cannot help unless the case is so desperate that she is willing to wait a number of weeks for access to the potion," he said with finality. As Draco turned to deliver the message, he added, "Might I suggest an owl to Miss Castell's parents? If anyone knows her Rh factor, it would be them."
"Yes, sir," Draco said, and left the room. He had absolutely no inkling of what an "Rh factor" was, but he was notoriously good at pretending to know everything.
When he related Professor Snape's words, Madam Pomfrey turned deferentially to Dumbledore. "Well?" she asked. "Is that what you wish?"
Dumbledore remained thoughtful for a moment, rapidly calculating distances and times. If it would take weeks to send the letter and receive a return, was the journey even worth it?
"Is it not true that Sianna has only two days to take the potion?" he asked. "Wait any longer, and it will have little effect, if I am not mistaken."
"Yes, that is true," Madam Pomfrey conceded, "but that shoulder of hers really will be in bad shape if she does not get this potion, Albus. Her bones will be much stronger and less likely to break again if she gets a dose they heal completely."
Draco interrupted, "I thought you always said you could mend bones in a minute, why should it take two days anyway?"
Madam Pomfrey looked down at him condescendingly. "Little cracks and things take very little effort, but this case is just a little bit more extreme," she said. "I can put the bones are back in place quickly, yes, but they need time to set properly and a bit more than a simple incantation to sew them back together."
An indignant Draco succeeded in appearing satisfied with that answer, which annoyed Madam Pomfrey to no end (as was intended). She had never been fond of the boy; he was such a whiny patient, always in pain or hungry or thirsty. Thank goodness he rarely got himself bloodied up enough to come to the hospital wing.
"More on the subject..." Dumbledore interjected firmly, "We cannot send an owl to the Castells, that would take nearly as much time as it would to brew the Rhesus Determination Solution. The only alternative is to have Severus apparate there to communicate with them and obtain the necessary information. Will that leave you enough time for you, Poppy?" he asked considerately.
"Yes, Albus, thank you very much," she replied sincerely. Dumbledore nodded and left the room, presumably headed for the dungeons.
Snape stepped out of the bush beside the Castells' house, his blackest scowl fixed upon his face, and brushed the clinging twigs and leaves off his robes. His infamous sneer threatened to engulf all other facial characteristics as he strode swiftly around the house to the front door and knocked firmly. He waited what seemed to him an unreasonably excessive amount of time, and was about to knock again when a flustered looking teenage girl burst out of the adjacent room and reached for the doorknob, breathing heavily.
Elise started to pull the door open but stopped suddenly, recognizing the strange man that had come to get her sister earlier that month. She unfroze and cautiously swung the door in all the way, saying "Uh, hello. You can come in, I'll get Mom and Dad." She showed him to the same living room he had visited that first time and disappeared again. Snape could hear her feet pounding up the stairs. Only moments later, he heard several more pairs pounding back down.
Helena and John Castell stopped in the doorway of the living room, then Helena rushed forward and sat opposite Snape. John followed more slowly asking nervously, "Is she okay?"
It occurred to Snape that these poor parents were probably terrified for the safety of their daughter. How many reasons could there be for an unexpected visit from school personnel?
"Sianna is fine, just fine. A little banged up, but she's perfectly okay," he reassured them, trying to gloss over the whole Bludger ordeal without lying overmuch.
"Banged up? What do you mean banged up?" Helena asked, suddenly angry.
Snape sighed. "She got into a bit of an accident and broke a few bones—but, let me remind you, Hogwarts is home to a very able mediwitch who can easily heal those kinds of injuries," he said impatiently. "That is not why I am here."
Helena exhaled hugely and leaned back into the couch. "So what has she done now?"
"She hasn't done anything." Why were these two so obsessively suspicious of their daughter? "We just need some medical information for her student record," Snape explained. "We were wondering if you could tell us whether she has O-positive or O-negative blood."
John looked at Helena and said lightly, "I didn't know you had type-O blood."
"What?" Helena asked in confusion. "I don't. I'm A-positive."
John's forehead creased in a perplexed scowl and his eyes darted from side to side. "I always thought that a person's blood had to be the same as one of their parents. Oh well, I guess I must be mistaken," he said.
Now Snape was confused. "No, that's right, a child inherits one of their parents' blood types. Are you telling me that neither of you has type-O blood?"
The two parents nodded, foreheads creased in confusion. Then sudden comprehension dawned on Helena's face. She looked at John strangely and said with quiet desperation, "John, I thought we sorted this all out that day at the hospital...?"
"What?" he asked, obviously not following.
"Don't you remember? The—mix up?" she reminded him.
"Oh God, Helena, you don't really think this has anything to do with that," he responded incredulously.
"What if it does?" John put his head in his hand and rubbed his temples in slow, firm circles.
Snape's eyes shifted from one to the other, and he suggested, "Perhaps I should leave you two alone for a minute..." He rose from his chair and went into the kitchen to wait.
All he could hear for quite some time was murmuring voices from the next room. Then all became quiet as John and Helena entered the kitchen and reseated themselves around the table. Snape, who had no idea what was going on, just waited for one of them to start explaining. After a minute, John began to speak.
"Helena had a hard labor with Sianna," he began. Snape could not fathom what that had to do with anything, but he listened attentively anyway. "I didn't get there until after she was born, so I don't know how the whole situation got started, and Helena passed out just after she gave birth, so she says she doesn't know either..." He paused, taking a deep, steeling breath.
"Somehow, the doctors got it all mixed up," he blurted. "First they said that Sianna was stillborn, that she hadn't made it...then they said they made a mistake, that it was actually the woman in the next room whose baby had died, and—"he explained as best he could, his hands flailing in a flustered effort to convey his point.
Helena picked the story up from there, touching her husband's arm gently to calm him down. "It took hours to finally figure out what was going on. In the end, they told us that both the lady in the next room and her child had died, and that our baby was okay. No one seemed to know how the doctors had come to that conclusion, but...we were just so happy that Sianna was alright that we didn't bother to ask too many questions. I guess we should have," she said with a tired regret.
Snape tried to get the whole story organized. He finally came to the only conclusion he could imagine, however bizarre, and summed tentatively, "So...there is a possibility that Sianna isn't actually yours?"
Helena nodded, eyes unfocused. John just let his head fall back into his hands.
Snape inhaled deeply and asked the first practical question that came to mind. "Is there a way you can check the blood type?"
Helena nodded wordlessly again and exited the room.
"I just can't believe this happened, you know? How could we have made mistake like that?" John despaired. "Stuff like this isn't supposed to actually happen..."
Snape, having never cared for anyone as a parent might, could not understand John's thoughts or feelings at that moment.
"It's not so bad as you are making it out to be. Sianna may have your blood or she may not," he reasoned, "but either way, she is still your daughter. You are the only father she's ever known." It was the only thing he could think to say, but John seemed to take comfort in that logic nonetheless.
"You don't think she'll be mad?" he whispered fearfully.
"I have no idea what your daughter will think of this. You're going to have to find out for yourself," Snape told him as Helena reentered the kitchen.
"You were right," Helena sighed as she sank back into her chair. "I've just checked Sianna's medical records—she's O-negative. It was right there...how could we have not noticed before?"
The room was silent for a long moment before Snape asked, "Do you want me to tell her?" The offer was met with silence. "Or you could write her a letter..." he suggested.
"That's a good idea," Helena agreed. "John? Is a letter okay?" John nodded and Helena went to a drawer and pulled out paper and a pencil. She walked slowly back to the table and sat gingerly, placing the paper squarely in front of her and twirling the pencil in her fingers. "How do we start?" she wondered.
John and Helena took the better part of an hour to compose the letter, and Snape was extraordinarily bored by the time they finished. He had been sympathetic, allowing them as much time as they needed, but he really did need to get back to the castle...
"You'll make sure she gets this?" John asked, his voice laced with concern.
Snape nodded solemnly and took the folded letter from his hand and gave them one last apologetic look before he apparated away.
The darkness slowly ebbed away from Sianna's consciousness, and she was aware of light sneaking through her eyelids and the padding of soft-soled shoes somewhere nearby. A fuzzy blanket of some unknown material warmed her still sleepy body, and she curled up with a deep breath, fully intent on falling back into slumber. But a subtle tug of sore muscles surprised her eyes open, and she became aware of a bothersome tenseness in her left shoulder. She turned onto her back and squinted at the offensively bright morning sun that filled the—hospital wing? The events of the previous day came rushing back.
She sat up and blinked, massaging her left shoulder tenderly. Madam Pomfrey approach concernedly, bottle and goblet in hand. To anyone who had ever been force-fed medicine, it was an ominous picture.
"Nice to see you're up, dearie," she said maternally. "Here now, drink this and you'll be feeling much better."
Sianna eyed the cup warily and croaked, "What is it?"
"It's just some Bone Marrow Restorative, it'll help you with those broken bones. Drink up," she encouraged. Sianna cringed and inhaled deeply, regretting the inevitability of it all and wondering what the point of being magical was if you couldn't even avoid taking medicine. At least they could make it taste good...Sianna attempted to gulp the entire potion at once, but only got half down her throat before the expected stench forced her to draw the cup away from her face and gag.
"Blech," she said, wrinkling her nose disdainfully and scraping her tongue against her teeth in disgust. "That's gross," she stated bluntly.
"What did you expect? Go on, finish it. Half a dose will do you no good," Pomfrey chided.
Sianna sighed, face still scrunched in revolt, and looked down at the remaining contents of the goblet, her eyebrows threatening to disappear into her hairline. She sat up a little straighter and plugged her nose with her free hand, glancing one last time at the potion before closing her eyes and tossing the liquid back as quickly as possible. Three choking gulps later, she slammed the goblet down on the table beside her and coughed dryly.
"Can I have some water?" she squeaked at Madam Pomfrey's back.
"Of course, dear," she responded.
Sianna was just finishing her enormously refreshing glass of water when Draco entered the ward. Madam Pomfrey had kicked him out at about dinnertime the day before, saying—or screaming, to be entirely honest—that if he something useful to do, he should do it and leave. Having no excuse, he had left the argument for useless and gone back to his own room. Now he was back to see how whether Sianna was awake, and to tell her about the letter Snape had left by her bed the day before.
"Hey," he said awkwardly as he sprawled in the chair beside the bed. "How's your shoulder?"
"It's okay," Sianna said vaguely. At a look from Draco she added, "It's a little sore, but it certainly doesn't feel quite so broken anymore."
"Yes, well that is the idea of mending bones," Madam Pomfrey interrupted sarcastically, approaching Sianna again. She flitted her wand about for a moment, taking a last set of readings before saying, "You're free to go, Miss Castell. But keep off that arm for a day or two, no lifting, nothing more strenuous than writing."
"I'm right handed," Sianna reminded her.
"Well then you have nothing to worry about, do you?" she responded, returning to her office.
Sianna stretched her neck and looked about for her clothes. "Could you hand me that, Draco?" she asked, pointing to the pile of black cloth on the shelf below the table.
He bent and retrieved it, then stood up and asked, "I'll meet you in the Great Hall, then?"
"Sure. I'm starving," she realized. "See you in a minute," she said, getting up to close the curtain.
"Oh wait, I nearly forgot. Snape had to go to your house last night and talk to your parents. He brought that back, it's for you," Draco said, gesturing at the white paper on the table.
Sianna looked at it curiously, then shrugged and said, "Thanks." She drew the curtain and dressed in the school robes, taking a minute to figure out just how they were meant to be worn. On her way out, she grabbed the letter and thanked Madam Pomfrey, then headed on to the Great Hall.
She sat next to Draco in the nearly empty Great Hall—most of the professors had finished breakfast long ago. The two ate in voracious silence for a minute, but when the edge was taken off their appetites, a conversation began.
"So did I miss anything exciting yesterday after I zonked out on you guys?" Sianna asked, swallowing a bite of toast.
Draco thought back to the previous afternoon and said, "Not really. I think I'm officially on Madam Pomfrey's hit list for letting you get hurt..." (Sianna laughed at that) "but really everything went pretty smoothly. Professor Snape had to go tell your parents what happened and ask them some stuff that Madam Pomfrey wanted to know, but that's pretty much it."
"It's so weird to think that yesterday my collarbone was broken and today I'm fine," Sianna thought out loud. "I mean, last time I broke a bone I had to wear a cast for six weeks."
Draco looked at her strangely. "What for?"
Sianna's breath halted for a second as she realized that she had slipped yet again. "Um, we were camping," she lied. "There weren't any doc—erm, Healers anywhere."
Draco didn't look too convinced, but he went back to his meal. Sianna, trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters, wondered suddenly, "So what's this letter all about?"
Draco shrugged. "Dunno," he said. He had been about to leave the ward the night before when Snape had entered, traditional black robes billowing and paper clutched in hand.
"Make sure Sianna gets this," he'd said. "It's a very important letter from her parents." Draco remembered eyeing the letter with sneaky curiosity before glancing back at his godfather, all innocence. Snape, not missing the expression on his godson's face, had said wearily, "Don't bother. You'll find out soon enough." After that, Draco had abandoned the thought of opening the letter himself, but when Sianna brought it up again at breakfast, he found himself wondering still about its contents.
Sianna carefully unsealed the envelope and pulled the letter out, reading at first with only vague interest. Soon, though, her expression began to change. Her face turned steadily from curiosity to confusion and disbelief, and Draco could only watch as she closed her eyes for a long moment, then stood abruptly and exited the Great Hall calmly and quickly, without explanation.
Chapter Eight: The Letter
"And the verdict?" Dumbledore asked upon his return to the hospital ward. He looked down at a pale and sleeping Sianna, the sparkle nearly faded from his already troubled eyes.
Madam Pomfrey looked up from the chart she was filling out. "A dislocated shoulder, shattered collarbone, and various cuts and bruises. It's a miracle that she managed to stay on the broom at all! The moment that Bludger hit, her left arm would have been rendered entirely useless...this could have turned out much worse," she said, sending an accusing glare at Draco, who was keeping vigilance beside Sianna's bed.
Dumbledore sighed and sat heavily next to him. Draco nodded in greeting and looked up at Madam Pomfrey, who was still writing busily and asked suddenly, "What is all that?"
"All what?" she asked irritably in return, not seeing that he was gesturing to her clipboard.
"Those forms you're filling out," he explained.
"These are just general medical records. I have one on file for every student," she said proudly, putting down the clipboard and walking over to one of the many cabinets full of medicines, potions, and salves. She rummaged around for a minute, but apparently did not find what she was looking for.
She pulled her head out of the cupboard and looked around. "Now where did Professor Snape get off to?" she wondered aloud.
"I believe he returned to the dungeons several minutes ago," Dumbledore informed her. "Do you need something?"
"I'm just wondering if he happens to have any Rhesus Determination Solution on hand in his stores. Miss Castell needs a dose of Bone Marrow Restorative, but I have to know if she's Rh positive or negative before I give it to her," Madam Pomfrey explained. Bone Marrow Restorative had to be brewed in a slightly different manner for each type of blood, and while Madam Pomfrey could tell with a simple spell that Sianna had type O blood, she did not know whether that was O-positive or O-negative, and could only find out with the potion.
"I'll go ask him," Draco volunteered, tired of sitting and sick of the hospital wing in general. A walk would do him good, and it would get him out of the way of Madam Pomfrey's scolding glances.
Before anyone could protest, he was out of the hospital wing and on his way to the dungeons, walking briskly to stretch his coltishly long legs. He checked Professor Snape's classroom, office, and chambers before finally locating the man in his private lab. The door was closed, but there was light shining through the gap above the floor and the distinct sound of boot heels clicking within. Draco knocked twice in rapid succession and waited. He knew from experience that the professor would never answer the knock himself, but would merely command the door to open on its own. Just as Draco had predicted, the door swung inward a moment later to reveal Snape searching his shelves for some unknown substance, three separate cauldrons behind him boiling and smoking over meticulously controlled flames.
"Can I help you, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked silkily, still facing his shelves. He turned slowly and gazed at his pupil expectantly.
"Sir, Madam Pomfrey wants to know if you have any Rhesus Determination Solution in your stores," Draco said, standing as straight as a board, his hands linked behind his back in respect.
Snape let out his breath in an annoyed huff, shaking his head at the woman's folly. That potion took weeks to make and could not be stored for more than two months before combined with a person's blood, besides the fact that one very rarely found occasion to use it at all. There was only one function of the substance, and the draft was not widely known, even in the potions community.
"Of course I do not have any. What could she possibly need it for?" he asked.
"She wants to know Sianna's blood type, or something like that, so she can prepare a dose of Bone Marrow Restorative," Draco explained.
Snape sighed. "Go tell her that I cannot help unless the case is so desperate that she is willing to wait a number of weeks for access to the potion," he said with finality. As Draco turned to deliver the message, he added, "Might I suggest an owl to Miss Castell's parents? If anyone knows her Rh factor, it would be them."
"Yes, sir," Draco said, and left the room. He had absolutely no inkling of what an "Rh factor" was, but he was notoriously good at pretending to know everything.
When he related Professor Snape's words, Madam Pomfrey turned deferentially to Dumbledore. "Well?" she asked. "Is that what you wish?"
Dumbledore remained thoughtful for a moment, rapidly calculating distances and times. If it would take weeks to send the letter and receive a return, was the journey even worth it?
"Is it not true that Sianna has only two days to take the potion?" he asked. "Wait any longer, and it will have little effect, if I am not mistaken."
"Yes, that is true," Madam Pomfrey conceded, "but that shoulder of hers really will be in bad shape if she does not get this potion, Albus. Her bones will be much stronger and less likely to break again if she gets a dose they heal completely."
Draco interrupted, "I thought you always said you could mend bones in a minute, why should it take two days anyway?"
Madam Pomfrey looked down at him condescendingly. "Little cracks and things take very little effort, but this case is just a little bit more extreme," she said. "I can put the bones are back in place quickly, yes, but they need time to set properly and a bit more than a simple incantation to sew them back together."
An indignant Draco succeeded in appearing satisfied with that answer, which annoyed Madam Pomfrey to no end (as was intended). She had never been fond of the boy; he was such a whiny patient, always in pain or hungry or thirsty. Thank goodness he rarely got himself bloodied up enough to come to the hospital wing.
"More on the subject..." Dumbledore interjected firmly, "We cannot send an owl to the Castells, that would take nearly as much time as it would to brew the Rhesus Determination Solution. The only alternative is to have Severus apparate there to communicate with them and obtain the necessary information. Will that leave you enough time for you, Poppy?" he asked considerately.
"Yes, Albus, thank you very much," she replied sincerely. Dumbledore nodded and left the room, presumably headed for the dungeons.
Snape stepped out of the bush beside the Castells' house, his blackest scowl fixed upon his face, and brushed the clinging twigs and leaves off his robes. His infamous sneer threatened to engulf all other facial characteristics as he strode swiftly around the house to the front door and knocked firmly. He waited what seemed to him an unreasonably excessive amount of time, and was about to knock again when a flustered looking teenage girl burst out of the adjacent room and reached for the doorknob, breathing heavily.
Elise started to pull the door open but stopped suddenly, recognizing the strange man that had come to get her sister earlier that month. She unfroze and cautiously swung the door in all the way, saying "Uh, hello. You can come in, I'll get Mom and Dad." She showed him to the same living room he had visited that first time and disappeared again. Snape could hear her feet pounding up the stairs. Only moments later, he heard several more pairs pounding back down.
Helena and John Castell stopped in the doorway of the living room, then Helena rushed forward and sat opposite Snape. John followed more slowly asking nervously, "Is she okay?"
It occurred to Snape that these poor parents were probably terrified for the safety of their daughter. How many reasons could there be for an unexpected visit from school personnel?
"Sianna is fine, just fine. A little banged up, but she's perfectly okay," he reassured them, trying to gloss over the whole Bludger ordeal without lying overmuch.
"Banged up? What do you mean banged up?" Helena asked, suddenly angry.
Snape sighed. "She got into a bit of an accident and broke a few bones—but, let me remind you, Hogwarts is home to a very able mediwitch who can easily heal those kinds of injuries," he said impatiently. "That is not why I am here."
Helena exhaled hugely and leaned back into the couch. "So what has she done now?"
"She hasn't done anything." Why were these two so obsessively suspicious of their daughter? "We just need some medical information for her student record," Snape explained. "We were wondering if you could tell us whether she has O-positive or O-negative blood."
John looked at Helena and said lightly, "I didn't know you had type-O blood."
"What?" Helena asked in confusion. "I don't. I'm A-positive."
John's forehead creased in a perplexed scowl and his eyes darted from side to side. "I always thought that a person's blood had to be the same as one of their parents. Oh well, I guess I must be mistaken," he said.
Now Snape was confused. "No, that's right, a child inherits one of their parents' blood types. Are you telling me that neither of you has type-O blood?"
The two parents nodded, foreheads creased in confusion. Then sudden comprehension dawned on Helena's face. She looked at John strangely and said with quiet desperation, "John, I thought we sorted this all out that day at the hospital...?"
"What?" he asked, obviously not following.
"Don't you remember? The—mix up?" she reminded him.
"Oh God, Helena, you don't really think this has anything to do with that," he responded incredulously.
"What if it does?" John put his head in his hand and rubbed his temples in slow, firm circles.
Snape's eyes shifted from one to the other, and he suggested, "Perhaps I should leave you two alone for a minute..." He rose from his chair and went into the kitchen to wait.
All he could hear for quite some time was murmuring voices from the next room. Then all became quiet as John and Helena entered the kitchen and reseated themselves around the table. Snape, who had no idea what was going on, just waited for one of them to start explaining. After a minute, John began to speak.
"Helena had a hard labor with Sianna," he began. Snape could not fathom what that had to do with anything, but he listened attentively anyway. "I didn't get there until after she was born, so I don't know how the whole situation got started, and Helena passed out just after she gave birth, so she says she doesn't know either..." He paused, taking a deep, steeling breath.
"Somehow, the doctors got it all mixed up," he blurted. "First they said that Sianna was stillborn, that she hadn't made it...then they said they made a mistake, that it was actually the woman in the next room whose baby had died, and—"he explained as best he could, his hands flailing in a flustered effort to convey his point.
Helena picked the story up from there, touching her husband's arm gently to calm him down. "It took hours to finally figure out what was going on. In the end, they told us that both the lady in the next room and her child had died, and that our baby was okay. No one seemed to know how the doctors had come to that conclusion, but...we were just so happy that Sianna was alright that we didn't bother to ask too many questions. I guess we should have," she said with a tired regret.
Snape tried to get the whole story organized. He finally came to the only conclusion he could imagine, however bizarre, and summed tentatively, "So...there is a possibility that Sianna isn't actually yours?"
Helena nodded, eyes unfocused. John just let his head fall back into his hands.
Snape inhaled deeply and asked the first practical question that came to mind. "Is there a way you can check the blood type?"
Helena nodded wordlessly again and exited the room.
"I just can't believe this happened, you know? How could we have made mistake like that?" John despaired. "Stuff like this isn't supposed to actually happen..."
Snape, having never cared for anyone as a parent might, could not understand John's thoughts or feelings at that moment.
"It's not so bad as you are making it out to be. Sianna may have your blood or she may not," he reasoned, "but either way, she is still your daughter. You are the only father she's ever known." It was the only thing he could think to say, but John seemed to take comfort in that logic nonetheless.
"You don't think she'll be mad?" he whispered fearfully.
"I have no idea what your daughter will think of this. You're going to have to find out for yourself," Snape told him as Helena reentered the kitchen.
"You were right," Helena sighed as she sank back into her chair. "I've just checked Sianna's medical records—she's O-negative. It was right there...how could we have not noticed before?"
The room was silent for a long moment before Snape asked, "Do you want me to tell her?" The offer was met with silence. "Or you could write her a letter..." he suggested.
"That's a good idea," Helena agreed. "John? Is a letter okay?" John nodded and Helena went to a drawer and pulled out paper and a pencil. She walked slowly back to the table and sat gingerly, placing the paper squarely in front of her and twirling the pencil in her fingers. "How do we start?" she wondered.
John and Helena took the better part of an hour to compose the letter, and Snape was extraordinarily bored by the time they finished. He had been sympathetic, allowing them as much time as they needed, but he really did need to get back to the castle...
"You'll make sure she gets this?" John asked, his voice laced with concern.
Snape nodded solemnly and took the folded letter from his hand and gave them one last apologetic look before he apparated away.
The darkness slowly ebbed away from Sianna's consciousness, and she was aware of light sneaking through her eyelids and the padding of soft-soled shoes somewhere nearby. A fuzzy blanket of some unknown material warmed her still sleepy body, and she curled up with a deep breath, fully intent on falling back into slumber. But a subtle tug of sore muscles surprised her eyes open, and she became aware of a bothersome tenseness in her left shoulder. She turned onto her back and squinted at the offensively bright morning sun that filled the—hospital wing? The events of the previous day came rushing back.
She sat up and blinked, massaging her left shoulder tenderly. Madam Pomfrey approach concernedly, bottle and goblet in hand. To anyone who had ever been force-fed medicine, it was an ominous picture.
"Nice to see you're up, dearie," she said maternally. "Here now, drink this and you'll be feeling much better."
Sianna eyed the cup warily and croaked, "What is it?"
"It's just some Bone Marrow Restorative, it'll help you with those broken bones. Drink up," she encouraged. Sianna cringed and inhaled deeply, regretting the inevitability of it all and wondering what the point of being magical was if you couldn't even avoid taking medicine. At least they could make it taste good...Sianna attempted to gulp the entire potion at once, but only got half down her throat before the expected stench forced her to draw the cup away from her face and gag.
"Blech," she said, wrinkling her nose disdainfully and scraping her tongue against her teeth in disgust. "That's gross," she stated bluntly.
"What did you expect? Go on, finish it. Half a dose will do you no good," Pomfrey chided.
Sianna sighed, face still scrunched in revolt, and looked down at the remaining contents of the goblet, her eyebrows threatening to disappear into her hairline. She sat up a little straighter and plugged her nose with her free hand, glancing one last time at the potion before closing her eyes and tossing the liquid back as quickly as possible. Three choking gulps later, she slammed the goblet down on the table beside her and coughed dryly.
"Can I have some water?" she squeaked at Madam Pomfrey's back.
"Of course, dear," she responded.
Sianna was just finishing her enormously refreshing glass of water when Draco entered the ward. Madam Pomfrey had kicked him out at about dinnertime the day before, saying—or screaming, to be entirely honest—that if he something useful to do, he should do it and leave. Having no excuse, he had left the argument for useless and gone back to his own room. Now he was back to see how whether Sianna was awake, and to tell her about the letter Snape had left by her bed the day before.
"Hey," he said awkwardly as he sprawled in the chair beside the bed. "How's your shoulder?"
"It's okay," Sianna said vaguely. At a look from Draco she added, "It's a little sore, but it certainly doesn't feel quite so broken anymore."
"Yes, well that is the idea of mending bones," Madam Pomfrey interrupted sarcastically, approaching Sianna again. She flitted her wand about for a moment, taking a last set of readings before saying, "You're free to go, Miss Castell. But keep off that arm for a day or two, no lifting, nothing more strenuous than writing."
"I'm right handed," Sianna reminded her.
"Well then you have nothing to worry about, do you?" she responded, returning to her office.
Sianna stretched her neck and looked about for her clothes. "Could you hand me that, Draco?" she asked, pointing to the pile of black cloth on the shelf below the table.
He bent and retrieved it, then stood up and asked, "I'll meet you in the Great Hall, then?"
"Sure. I'm starving," she realized. "See you in a minute," she said, getting up to close the curtain.
"Oh wait, I nearly forgot. Snape had to go to your house last night and talk to your parents. He brought that back, it's for you," Draco said, gesturing at the white paper on the table.
Sianna looked at it curiously, then shrugged and said, "Thanks." She drew the curtain and dressed in the school robes, taking a minute to figure out just how they were meant to be worn. On her way out, she grabbed the letter and thanked Madam Pomfrey, then headed on to the Great Hall.
She sat next to Draco in the nearly empty Great Hall—most of the professors had finished breakfast long ago. The two ate in voracious silence for a minute, but when the edge was taken off their appetites, a conversation began.
"So did I miss anything exciting yesterday after I zonked out on you guys?" Sianna asked, swallowing a bite of toast.
Draco thought back to the previous afternoon and said, "Not really. I think I'm officially on Madam Pomfrey's hit list for letting you get hurt..." (Sianna laughed at that) "but really everything went pretty smoothly. Professor Snape had to go tell your parents what happened and ask them some stuff that Madam Pomfrey wanted to know, but that's pretty much it."
"It's so weird to think that yesterday my collarbone was broken and today I'm fine," Sianna thought out loud. "I mean, last time I broke a bone I had to wear a cast for six weeks."
Draco looked at her strangely. "What for?"
Sianna's breath halted for a second as she realized that she had slipped yet again. "Um, we were camping," she lied. "There weren't any doc—erm, Healers anywhere."
Draco didn't look too convinced, but he went back to his meal. Sianna, trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters, wondered suddenly, "So what's this letter all about?"
Draco shrugged. "Dunno," he said. He had been about to leave the ward the night before when Snape had entered, traditional black robes billowing and paper clutched in hand.
"Make sure Sianna gets this," he'd said. "It's a very important letter from her parents." Draco remembered eyeing the letter with sneaky curiosity before glancing back at his godfather, all innocence. Snape, not missing the expression on his godson's face, had said wearily, "Don't bother. You'll find out soon enough." After that, Draco had abandoned the thought of opening the letter himself, but when Sianna brought it up again at breakfast, he found himself wondering still about its contents.
Sianna carefully unsealed the envelope and pulled the letter out, reading at first with only vague interest. Soon, though, her expression began to change. Her face turned steadily from curiosity to confusion and disbelief, and Draco could only watch as she closed her eyes for a long moment, then stood abruptly and exited the Great Hall calmly and quickly, without explanation.