(17 years later)

"Sarah! For the last time, get out of bed! You'll miss the bus!"

"Coming, mom." said a groggy voice. Sarah slumped down the stairs sleepily. Her long, greasy, black hair in a ponytail as usual. She was wearing a black t-shirt, baggy black jeans, black lipstick, black nail polish, black eyeshadow. Even her eyes were black like her father's. Samantha looked at her and shook her head. She resembled her father too much. All the black she wore stole all the color from her face giving her a pale, sickly look. "Have you seen my backpack anywhere?" she asked sleepily.

"Here," said Samantha, handing her her ratty jean backpack. "Honestly honey, I know you like the color black, but can't you wear a little more color?"

"I am," she said yanking up one of her sleeves a little revealing black bracelets with silver spikes and skulls. "See? Silver."

"Oh, how could I have not noticed?" Sarah's black lips curved into a smile. She may have looked dreary, but her eyes seemed to sparkle sometimes and it gave her a more friendly look, but that was rare. She gave her mom a hug and then left to go to the bus stop.

Far off, in Hogwarts, Professor Snape watched through the fire place as his daughter left for school. On the other side, Samantha turned and looked at him. "See what I mean? She looks a lot like you, Severus."

"I see no resemblence," he said coldly. Samantha snarled at him.

"Honestly, when are you going to get over it and accept her. She's fourteen for merlin's sake! Don't you think it's time you stepped up and were a father to her?"

"Let's get one thing strait. She never was my child and she never will be. All I saw was a filthy muggle walk out that door. Nothing else." Samantha's eyes narrowed as tears fell down her face.

"She is your daughter whether you like it or not, and nothing you can say will change that."

"She is NOT my daughter!" he said in a dangerous tone.

"How can you hate her? She's your child and all she wants from you is love. Can't you just show it to her? She's lived all this time knowing that no matter what she does, her father will never love her. You of all people should know what that's like!" Her words had caught Snape off guard. His face became angry, his teeth were barred.

"She is not my daughter and I am not her father!"

"Damn right you aren't." Snape decided not to argue with her anymore and pulled his head out of the fire. He walked over to his desk and pulled out a pile of essays he still needed to grade. All the while he could not help but think about what Samantha had said. He did know what it was like to have a father not love him. His own father had up and left one day for no reason and he never heard from him again. He was shocked to see how much of a woman Sarah was becoming and though he hated to admit to it, she did resemble him a little. He went through the papers fairly quick and was soon visited by Dumbledore after he had finished.

"I over heard some shouting in here a few minutes ago and came to see if everything was alright." he said. Snape nodded.

"Everything's fine, Headmaster. I was just having a conversation with my x-wife."

"Argueing again?" Snape nodded. "When are you going to accept your daughter for who she is and come home? You have a wife and daughter that needs you."

"She's not my daughter and I will not be living in the same home with a muggle." said Snape coldly. Dumbledore frowned.

"Very well then. I know you have a class coming soon so I'll leave you. Oh, and this came for you," he handed Snape a letter. There was a muggle stamp on it and the return address had Sarah's name on it. "I can't force you to read it, but I encourage you to." said Dumbledore sadly before leaving. Snape waited till he was gone, before throwing the letter in the fire. He caught a last glimpse of the black paper curling in the flames when a group of fourth year Gryffandors and Slytherins walked in the room.

Sarah pounded her fists on her locker. This was her third attempt to try and open it. "Come on!" she yelled shaking the handle. She turned the combination on the lock and finally, Click! the door unlocked. "Finally!" she muttered frustrated. Not too far behind her she could hear the sounds of a group of girls giggling and pointing at her. Sarah could feel their eyes bore into her back, but she did her best to ignore.

"Hey, Rhanda," said on of the girls. "Check out the little goth-girl. Talking to herself again. Do you think she gets answers?" They all started laughing. Sarah's face began to burn.

"Now now girls," came Rhanda's voice. She was the leader of their pack of wolves. "We can't pick on her for it. After all, it's not her fault her dad left because she was too ugly. Who can she talk to now?" Again the girls high pitched annoying laughs filled the air.

"He didn't leave me because I was ugly," growled Sarah.

"Oh that's right girls," said Rhanda. "What was it he called you? A Muckle?" They all started laughing again.

"It's Muggle." said Sarah angrily.

"Oh that's right. So what's a muggle, Sarah? Is it another name for an ugly goth? Because if it is, then he gave you a good name." Sarah grew angry. Soon the group of girls went into a cheerleading formation and started dancing and chanting:

Little Sarah Muggle was dumped out on the street.

Her daddy didn't love her because she's such a geek!

And now comes a crying to her mommy who is trying

To throw her out again.

It's true, it's true!

They cheered so loud that everyone in the halls heard them. Sarah's face went red and hot tears streamed down her face. The girls got so much applause that they started chanting and dancing again. Sarah's hands curled into fists and she looked at Rhanda with absolute loathing. Without warning she ran at her and tackled her to the ground. She began pounding her fists in Rhanda's face while shouting out a long chain of swear words. Then she grabbed Rhanda by the ears and began pounding her face into the ground. Blood splattered all over the ground and onto her clothes, but she didn't care.

Soon she felt a pair of hands grab her from behind and pull her away. Sarah fought to go back and kill Rhanda, but the hands were too strong. She eventually felt worn out and stopped struggling. Rhanda stood up. Her broken nose was flopping around, chunks of her hair were ripped out and laying on the ground, her face was beaten to a pulp. Sarah also managed to catch sight of the person holding her. The school principal. A tall, black man with well developed muscels and a sort of dangerous look to him. Sarah knew she was in trouble this time.