A/N Well here we have Chapter 4. I apologize that this was not up by December 11, but my grandfather passed on the day prior to that date and I have not had a chance to post it until now. My apologies.
Also, if you read this story and enjoy it, but do not review, please read this. When I first began posting chapters, I had a few dedicated readers who let me know, but these days, it seems that the only person who reviews is my buddy, and sometimes co-author, Cass aka cumbacksirius. If you like this story, please review, as it is appreciated, and if I don't begin to get some, I may stop posting this story on Thank you
Disclaimer: I hold no claim to any of J.K. Rowling's characters. Monique, Flop, Vietsvar, and Catrine belong to me. Don't touch!
Harry Potter and the Sacred Soul of Vietsvar
Rated: PG-13
By: Handsofftheshinyshirtitsmine
Chapter 4 Resurfaced Emotions
"Severus, don't worry. I'll be alright." The auburn-haired woman smiled at him and touched his cheek gently with one small hand. Snape looked at her, worry etched through his face, and then he pulled her closer, kissing her.
"I love you Catrine. Don't forget that. And please…please be careful." He asked of her. Her hazel eyes locked with his, and she nodded.
"Always." She placed her head against his chest and hugged him tightly.
Snape awoke with a start, his forehead drenched with sweat, and the bed sheets tangled about him. He stared at the canopy of his bed for a long time, allowing his breathing to slow and his heart to stop pounding in his head. Then, slowly, he forced the heels of his palms into his eyes, and rubbed them fiercely.
"Don't do this to me…" He moaned, rolling over and fumbling for the glass of water that he kept on his nightstand.
He cursed as he heard the glass topple to the floor, it's contents spilling, and struggled to sit up. He looked at the clock on his stand, and decided that there as really no reason for him to attempt anymore sleep. The room was unusually cold for mid-October, and he moved towards the fireplace, wishing he had more wood available.
Sitting down in his rather plush leather armchair, Snape ran his hand through his dark hair and stared into the low crackling flames. It had been months since he had dreamt of Monique's mother, the same dream as he always had, and its emergence disturbed him. He placed his chin on his hand, unable to allow himself to believe that Monique's presence at Hogwarts could somehow be associated with his dream of her long-dead mother. The recently resurfaced memories of Catrine were still painful, no matter how long it had been since she had been killed, and Monique was his final link to the only woman who had ever shown him any love.
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"Oh my, I entirely forgot that we had a Transfiguration essay…" Monique moaned that morning, setting her bag on the bench beside her as she took her seat. "'Mione, how many pages did you write?" She proceeded in piling some eggs onto her plate, all the while looking across at her friend, who finished chewing before giving a response.
"I'm not entirely sure, 6 ½ or 7, possibly." Monique groaned and slumped over on the table, her face falling.
"I can't possibly finish it by class." She concluded, dropping her fork unceremoniously to the table.
"Monique, why are you worried? You haven't missed a single assignment all year!" Harry commented from his seat beside her, looking over to watch as she shoved her plate away without a bite and masked her face in her cascade of hair. Ron laughed.
"You're almost as bad as 'Mione!" He agreed. Monique shook her head.
"No, you just don't understand…" she muttered, barely coherent through her locks. "My father will kill me when…if…he finds out!" Hermione smiled at her, and reached forward to clasp her hand.
"I don't think your father will find out. And McGonagall isn't that bad, I'm sure she'll understand." She said gently. Monique groaned again, and submerged her head in her arms.
"Oh, is something wrong with moan-eek?" Draco Malfoy sneered, coming to the table and looking down at the unhappy girl. Over the past few weeks, he had developed something of an undeserved malice towards her, finding a seemingly unending array of sexual slanders to play on her name. Monique didn't respond to his taunt, a fact that irritated him and caused him to straddle the bench beside her, shoving his face close to hers. "What's wrong, moaning yes? Did you realize that Potty couldn't satisfy you?" He laughed into her ear.
"Can it, Malfoy." Harry warned, placing his silverware on the table, and rising slightly. Monique didn't move.
"Stay out of this." Malfoy snarled back, raising himself up also.
With is movement, Monique whipped her head about, her hazel eyes boring into his, and stood up. The expression on her face was horrifyingly severe, much as one that would have presented itself in the potions classroom.
"Bugger off, Malfoy." She hissed.
"I cannot take off and simply leave Monique behind." Snape concluded fiercely, pounding his fist to the table to emphasize his point. The man sitting across from him held his wine goblet to prevent it's spilling, and then chuckled warmly.
"I'm sure Narcissa would be willing to watch her for you while you're gone. You know we think of her like the daughter we never had, and she and Draco get along famously." He looked over to the middle of the parlor room, where two young children were seated, giggling and playing with blocks. "It shall not be a long excursion, Severus."
"Miss Es, a word. And you, Mr. Malfoy." From behind, Hagrid stared down at them, obviously unhappy. Monique stifled back a curse. She had never gotten into as much trouble in all her years in Vietsvar as she had in her two months at Hogwarts, and she knew her father would be furious that she had again allowed her temper to get the best of her. She and Malfoy followed Hagrid silently from the great hall, her three friends watching her departure.
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"Why is she always so worried about her dad?" Ron asked of no one in particular as the three figures turned from the hall. He looked over at Hermione, whose expression was one of slight amusement. "What?" He asked, a bit self-consciously. She shook her head, and took a sip of her pumpkin juice.
"Nothing." She responded quietly, avoiding Ron's gaze.
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When Hagrid released Monique and Draco back to their breakfasts, Monique opted not to return immediately, instead deciding that she needed some herbs for her oncoming headache, and heading for the infirmary.
"Bloody pureblood elitists." She grumbled quietly, her fingers digging angrily into her palms. "Why are they all such pompous bastards?"
"Monique!" She whirled, hearing someone call her name. Behind her, she saw no one. "Monique, come with me!" Her face weakened into a fearful expression.
"Hello?" She called out. "Who's there?" She looked about frantically; still unable to place a person with the voice she was hearing.
"Monique, come on!"
Backing herself up against the cold wall, Monique strained her eyes to find someone, anyone, who might be toying with her.
"Look in here…shh! Quietly, or daddy will hear you."
"Stop…please stop…" She sobbed, her chest heaving. Still, the hallway was empty, only she stood there, enveloped in the shadows.
"I wonder what they are doing?" The innocent voice mused, and Monique sobbed a bit more loudly now as she slid down the wall to the floor. "Do you know?"
"Stop it!" She cried out angrily, clutching at her ears feverishly. "I don't want to talk to you!"
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Monique's eyes opened lazily, heavy with disuse.
"She's waking up now, Professor Snape. No need to worry." She heard Madame Pomfrey's voice, but she could not yet distinguish shapes or people from one another.
"D-daddy?" She mumbled quietly. Snape looked to Madame Pomfrey, who smiled gently, and drew the curtains further about Monique's bed.
"I'll give you a few minutes." She said, and Snape nodded appreciatively.
"Shh, shh Monique. It's alright." He whispered. Monique's eyes focused on his face.
"Oh…daddy…" She managed, and she struggled to sit up.
"No, no, sit back. Relax." He said, holding her shoulders against the pillows. "Calm down."
"What happened, father?" She asked him, her voice barely audible. Her hazel eyes searched his face, confused, dazed. A look hardly like any Snape had ever seen his daughter cast. He looked away from her momentarily, searching his mind for an answer other than the one he knew he would have to give.
"You fainted in the hallway. I don't know why." Snape told her simply, taking one of her long hands in his own. "It was shortly after breakfast two days ago."
"I have been unconscious for two days?" Monique quipped, unbelieving. "But why?"
"That we do not know, Monique. Do you remember anything that happened before you fainted? Anything at all?" He inquired urgently, sitting forward a bit more. Monique bit her lip and then nodded.
"Yes, yes. I heard a voice, like a young child. It was talking to me, father. It called my name, and it asked me to come look at what daddy was doing." She responded after a moment of thought. "I didn't know who was talking to me." Her breathing grew rapid with the memory, and her father leaned forward to hug her.
"You're okay, calm down Monique." He said, though his tone had suddenly grown worried. The two sat in silence for a long time.
"Father?" She pressed quietly some time later. Snape looked down at her, hugging her a bit more tightly.
"Hmm?" He mumbled.
"Do you know why I fainted? I've never fainted before." She asked of him. Snape shook his head.
"No dear. I don't." He lied.
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"Severus, you must tell her soon." Dumbledore concluded later in his office. Snape sat before his desk, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, his expression concerned and slightly unnerved. Dumbledore stood near one of his windows, looking out across the schoolyard at the early-falling snow, his brows furrowed above the bridge of his crooked nose.
"No. I cannot possibly…I did not plan to until she was at least out of school. She is too young to know, much too young." Snape replied, his eyes gazing intently at his hands, his head shaking slowly, his tone severe. "I can't place this burden on her now, not now." The late afternoon sunlight poured into the room, and cast over him, throwing his shadow onto the opposite wall as he hunched over in a chair. Dumbledore did not look in his direction as he formulated an answer for the disgruntled potions master.
"It is time. You know that it is. You must tell her the truth about Catrine. What she was, how she died. You must tell her the truth about herself, why you sent her to Vietsvar, why she seems so far advanced in the magical arts than her fellow students. It as already begun, Severus, and you cannot deny that it has. She has befriended the boy-who-lived, as it is told. She has begun to hear ghosts from her past and see visions from her future. She must know, or she will find out. If she does not, Hermione Granger will."
Snape continued to look at his hands. Now, however, they were shaking.
A/N Chapitre 4 est fini! Mmmm and so now it begins. I again apologize for the late posting of this chapter, but hope you find it worth the wait. Look for Chapter 5 The Sacred Soul of Vietsvar before January 14, 2005.
--------- Until then, Merry Christmas, and I wish you all a happy and safe new year!
