Diagon Alley
It didn't take long after leaving the school grounds for their shopping expedition for her to realize that her mother had been utterly, completely, horribly accurate. What a complete and utter ass! Whatever did she see in him in the first place?
He never smiled or said more words to her than was needful. When he did speak to her it was with a sneer. It almost seemed as though her beloved parent hated children, but surely that was all an act. It was in her time. He adored her and she often heard him laughing over the antics of his students when they were behind closed doors. He was still the terror of the school in public, but that was all a front. Where did my father go?
Diagon Alley was different from her time. A twinge of sorrow moved through her when she recalled that in just a few short years, Voldemort and his cronies would attack the bustling marketplace and reduce it to near ruins. By the time she was of age to attend school, it had been rebuilt, brighter and stronger than before, but it lacked much of the enchantment and charm this past incarnation of it possessed. All about her were smiles and handshakes, laughter and hugs. Old friends greeted one another warmly as gnarled old witches gathered around store windows to gossip about various bits of nonsense. All seemed to part way for the passage of her father, and she moved quickly to keep up.
He isn't all bad, though. He did let me have those three books I found. She didn't know if Albus (must remember to call him Professor Dumbledore now) had given him the wizard gold for her school things or if he was using what was in his personal vault, but those three tomes were expensive. Oddly enough, she hadn't even had to ask for them, he had caught her staring at them longingly, looked about ready to snap at her to hurry up, then simply told the shopkeeper to add them to their order. Of course, they were books that he would approve of, both now and in the future. Two were advance texts on potions and the third was on the proper care and growing of magical plants. It had seemed a kind act very much out of place for the terrifying Severus Snape.
All that was left were her school robes and uniforms. She only had the one skirt and blouse, and those were slightly different from what was the standard in this time. The skirt was about half an inch shorter at the knee and her shoes had just a little bit of a heel to them, rather than being flat and sensible. She felt it best not to mention that the shoes and stockings were a relatively new change, brought about when some seventh year girls had recruited her to use her obvious sway over the faculty to win the right to wear them. Somehow she didn't think he'd appreciate that.
The path towards Madam Milkin's took them in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies, so anyone who knew her would have understood that she just had to stop and see what was on display in the window. Her father, however, continued on, not realizing that she no longer followed.
~ * * * ~
He would not ask her about herself. He refused to allow himself to form any sort of attachment to the girl.
The books were an impulse that he gave into, something he would have normally ignored altogether, a desire she had that played to his pride. He could lie to Voldemort, he could lie to the Death Eaters, and he could certainly lie to the Ministry of Magic, but he could never lie to himself. He had felt a stab of pride when she had stopped to look through those books, a hunger to own them clearly etched into her face. That this girl not yet born, destined to be of his blood, would possibly follow in his footsteps had made him proud. Furiously, he chastised himself in silence, ordering himself not to give in to any more desires of wanting to please her.
If this is the type of man I become, indulgent of a child's whims, then I must truly be an appalling parent.
There was something else he refused to ask. He would not, could not, ask who her mother was or would be. He could not deny that curiosity burned him from the inside, to know what woman could possibly stay with him long enough to bear him a daughter and remain afterwards. She spoke of them both, he and his future mate, as though they were still together and an intricate part of her life, so he had no doubt that the future held some interesting changes for him. However, he was of the opinion that knowing too much about the future could endanger the future. In the haste to change something, you could prevent a great good from coming about or allow a greater evil to be spawned. Besides, he could not begin to entertain the thought of a lover and spouse until after all dangers had passed.
But all dangers are not passed in her time. She mentioned that someone was after her, trying to kill her. Avada Kedavra, the killing curse. He didn't realize that his hands fisted tightly within the encompassing drape of his sleeves. Someone tried to strike her down with the killing curse. He almost turned around to ask her more about that event, but stopped himself. Something told him that the less he knew about that, the less likely he would be to drive the girl mad with overprotectiveness in the future.
He reached the windows of the clothing shop, and then froze, schooling his features immediately. Coming out of the shop was Lucius Malfoy, in all his sinister glory. With no time to turn away, he was forced to give a tight smile as the older wizard spotted him. His mind remembered that he had yet to explain the story devised to give reason for her presence at Hogwarts, but had little time to ponder this since Malfoy was approaching him.
"Severus, I'm surprised to see you here. Don't you have a class to teach?"
"Not today, Lucius. I have other matters to attend to this afternoon." He turned slightly to indicate Antigone, and then realized that she was no longer behind him. He looked back along the patch they had taken and saw her in front of the Quidditch shop, studying the display there. Had he known she was separated from him, he wouldn't have bothered to indicate her and played his hand that Malfoy would never realize he wasn't here alone. As if on cue, however, she looked back his direction. Her dark eyes met with his, then moved to Malfoy, before she left the window and walked towards them.
"A new student, then?" The wizard studied the girl as she approached. She came forward without hesitation and a strong tilt to her chin. Her eyes flicked to Snape's briefly and he saw that she knew exactly who he was talking to.
"After a fashion. Lucius, allow me to introduce my niece, Antigone Snape. I've had her transferred to Hogwarts effective this year. Antigone, this is Lucius Malfoy, an old and respected friend of mine."
She took her cue and curtsied slightly, expression polite. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy." Her manner was impeccable and managed to make Severus relax somewhat.
"I'm sure." The older wizard was considering the girl closely, as if measuring her and finding her quite acceptable. "A lovely girl, Severus. Your brother's child?"
"My sister Veloria's, actually. Sadly, she passed away over the summer, but her will named me as Antigone's guardian. I felt, under the circumstances, that it would be best to move her closer to what family she has remaining."
"Of course, the loss of a parent can be a trial for any child. Tell me, girl, where have you gone to school until now?"
He hadn't been expecting that. Before he could butt in with the answer, he heard his daughter's soft, even voice respond, "Belle Noir, in the Americas."
"Belle Noir? Right outside of New Orleans, I believe, and not cast in the most favorable of lights. Are you a student of voodoo, then?"
"No, sir. I chose to study more traditional magic. My main focus was potions." Snape was concentrating on keeping his relief hidden. The girl easily slipped into the game of deception without hesitation.
"Indeed, if her choice of leisure reading is any sign, I may let her take over my first year classes just so I don't have to put up with the dunderheads." He kept his voice dry, allowing the corners of his lips to tilt up in a slight smile. Somehow the girl managed to actually blush, as though surprised by the supposed compliment.
"Excellent. It is good that you've found someone to follow in your foot steps since fate has decided to deny you an heir." It was a deliberate jab, something to be expected from Malfoy. "You'll have to remember to introduce her to my son. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to show her around the school and help her adapt to the change." He was studying her again, like a man who was appraising the qualities of a blue-blooded bitch he was thinking of buying. It was a look that Snape did not appreciate, knowing where it would possibly lead.
If you think I'll even contemplate a pairing between that git you call a son and any of my blood, you're mad. He wouldn't be worthy enough to lick our boots. "I'll be sure to do just that." He waited for the wizard to say his good-byes and let them get on with securing the girl some uniforms, but Malfoy seemed intent on prying into Antigone's life.
"I noticed you were studying the Quidditch supplies? Are you interested in the game? My son is the Seeker for Slytherin house."
"Really?" She was unerringly polite and seemed genuinely interested. "I played the Seeker position for my team at Belle Noir. Never lost a game."
That took the other man by surprise. Snape allowed himself a genuine smile at the shock on Malfoy's face. "You were the Seeker?" He recovered quickly. "Then you should speak with my son. It would seem you both have much in common." He looked back at the potions master then. "I must be going now, Severus. Business to attend to. You understand."
"Perfectly. Don't let us keep you, Lucius." The man nodded slightly and left them, allowing Snape to turn and study his future daughter with an arched brow.
"Excellent work, girl. That story about being Seeker was rather mean spirited of you, though."
She looked up at him, the picture of innocence. "What story? I am the Seeker for my house team in my time, and I've never lost a single game."
Now it was his turn to be surprised. "Truly? Quite an accomplishment for a bookworm. Who taught you how to play?" His stomach clenched when he saw her grin. Don't say it. Don't say it.
"Why, Uncle Harry, of course." Her smile was bright as she batted her dark lashed coquettishly while she walked around him to enter the clothing shop.
~ * * * ~
She sat nervously on the smooth wooden bench at the end of the Slytherin table, pointedly ignoring the curious looks being directed towards her from the other students. From here she was clearly visible to her father and the other teachers, but she dared not look up at them.
It was odd, since this wasn't the opening day feast or a special occasion, for the students to have to wait for their food to magically appear before them. Everyone was wondering about the delay and was riveted when Professor Dumbledore rose. "I have but one announcement to make this evening. Due to an unfortunately incident within his family, Professor Snape has seen fit to have his niece transferred here to Hogwarts." With one aged hand the headmaster motioned for her to rise. Slowly, she got up from her seat and felt even more eyes upon her than before.
"Antigone Snape has already been sorted and has been placed into Slytherin House. I trust that all of you will make her feel welcomed into our family and do everything in your power to help her to adjust." He nodded to her and she gratefully sat down, much faster than when she stood up. "Now, with nothing more to add, let the feast begin."
She was relieved when the plates before them were mounded high with food in an instant. Most of the students were too hungry to care any longer about the new girl in their midst and she was either quickly forgotten or dismissed because she was related to Snape. Except amongst the Slytherins. They still looked at her between hushed whispers and furtive glances. She felt like she was being sized up, and she didn't care for it one bit.
I know their names, but I don't know all of their faces. She truly didn't want to grow close to any of her new housemates. Many of them would follow Voldemort in the very near future, and most of those would end up dead in the coming war. I can even tell some of them the exact day if I wanted to. It was frightening, knowing the future with such stunning clarity.
Her eyes raised up and she looked at the next table over. There, sitting across from a wild mop of hair that could only be 'Uncle Harry' and a flaming ball of red hair that could only be 'RonRon' was a girl about her age with frizzy, ginger brown hair and fiery brown eyes. She found herself hungry for the sight of her and didn't notice that she was staring until the girl's own eyes met hers across the space between them. Hermione Granger tilted her head to one side in a silent question, her expression one of distrust. Understandable since she was looking back at a Slytherin. Antigone blushed and offered a shy smile before lowering her gaze to her plate.
She wished she had been put in Gryffindor, and then she could sit next to the other girl without anyone questioning it. She recalled, from all the tales her mother had told her about the years she spent in school, that the two houses did not mix with one another outside of classes. In fact, the animosity felt between the two far outshone the petty pranks and skirmishes they would have in the future. Knowing that it could cause trouble should she try to form some kind of bond with this younger version of one of Hogwarts finest minds, she felt a twinge of sorrow in her heart. She sighed, mournfully, and sent a quiet, unspoken thought in the Gryffindor girl's direction.
I miss you, Mum.
~ * * * ~
Author's Notes:
I'm flattered and awestruck by all the great reviews so far. Thank you for all your support. I'm truly sorry for subjecting you to the torture that is my overactive imagination, but this is the only way to get the folks out of my head! Please keep reading and I'll keep writing. With any luck, I'll manage to get Antigone back where she belongs without leveling the school in the process.
Love,
ChelleyBean