The Summons

The next day of classes, Antigone hesitated in her room.  It seemed that her vaunted Gryffindor courage had deserted her as she stood there in her Slytherin robes and tie.  Her satchel slung over her shoulder and she twirled a lock of ginger hair around her finger as she looked at the door with no small amount of apprehension.

The door to her room swung open with such force that she stepped back in shock, hands snapping to her sides and eyes wide as she stared at her father's glower.  "Well?"

"Uhm… I was coming."  He arched a brow.  "Really!  I was!  I… I was just thinking about the other day."

"I wonder why."

She arched her own brow and put her hands on her hips.  "No need to be so snarky about it.  I'm well aware that I screwed up.  I was just wondering if…"  She tapered off, no longer so self-assured.

"If?"

She let out a sigh.  "Well, if you must know, I was wondering if Mum was still going to talk to me or if she's going to avoid me like I have the plague."

"A rather overused phrase, don't you think?"  He stepped into her room, though since he only stood five inches taller than she did, he wasn't as intimidating as he would have liked.  "Since you no doubt have a close relationship to your mother in the future, you should be aware that she is a Gryffindor to the very core of her being.  Even something as extraordinary as her daughter hurtling through from the future is unlikely to faze her to the point that she would turn her back on her completely."

She offered up a weak smile.  "So says the man who spent three days convincing her to speak to Ronald Weasley again after he made such an ass of himself during your tenth anniversary party."

He blinked, obviously surprised.  "I actually encouraged her to speak to that imbecile?"  She nodded.  "I must become senile in my old age.  Never mind.  Neither a Gryffindor nor a Slytherin would be cowering in fear when faced with a challenged such as this.  Stop acting like a Hufflepuff and get out there."  He reached out and grasped one of her slender shoulders with his hand before firmly pushing her from the room.  Apparently staying in bed and feigning illness was not going to be an option.

She didn't have Potions that day, but she did have Care of Magical Creatures.  It would be her rotten timing that she would be forced to face her mother so soon during her worst class.  Hagrid had managed to get the game keeper of an oriental school of magic to send him a Kir-In, a curious creature with the golden horn and hooves of a unicorn and a body that seemed to be part deer and part small dragon.  They were peaceful and treasured all life to the point that they sort of hovered instead of walked so that they didn't so much as bruise a blade of grass.  Generally friendly to most, Antigone had been disappointed yet again when it accepted her timid approaches with cool disdain.  Apparently it wasn't dragon enough to overlook the fact that she was a Snape.

She squared her shoulders and went up the stone stairs that led out of the dungeons and into the entrance hall.  The Gryffindors were coming down for the lesson.  Antigone stopped at the door just as Hermione did.  The smaller girl looked up at her, chewing on her bottom lip just as Antigone was doing on her own, and said, "Good morning."

"Good morning."

They exited the double doors, walking side by side.

"So… you want to stand by me while we try to talk to the Kir-In?"

"If you don't mind.  I'd rather not run the risk of being stabbed with that horn or something."

~***~

"So, you do have a claim to the name, do you?"  Malfoy had apparently decided to sit down across from Antigone during lunch.  Crabbe and Goyle sat down on either side of her.  Just peachy.

"It would appear so."  She refilled her goblet with pumpkin juice and took a long sip.

"So the Potions Master has a bastard.  How very interesting.  I wonder; did he fail to acknowledge you all this time because you're mother was too much of a whore to marry him or did he bed a Muggle and was just too embarrassed to say anything about it?"  The goons laughed like the good little toadies they were.

Don't let him get to you.  Dad'll skin you alive if you're caught fighting again.  "Fascinating."  She gave Malfoy a piercing look.  The runty blond frowned back at her.

"What?"

"I wouldn't have thought it could be possible, but you're voice is even more nasally now than it was before I broke your nose."  How she managed to keep her face straight when she was looking at his outraged expression, she would never know.  Malfoy sputtered, and then glared.

"You'd best watch your step.  Daddy can't protect you forever."  His voice was softer, no doubt he thought it menacing.  Crabbe and Goyle each took one of her arms and began to squeeze.  It was rather uncomfortable, but she forced herself not to flinch.

"I'd call off your lap dogs if I were you, Malfoy.  Do you think that threatening the Potions Master's daughter would get you nothing more than a detention or two?  Ask yourself what your father would do if it were you being intimidated." 

Malfoy spun around.  Antigone, Crabbe and Goyle looked up.  Uncle Harry was standing about three feet away, apparently on his way to the Gryffindor table.  Ron stood beside him, fists balled up tightly.  Both boys were glaring down at him with thinly veiled menace in their eyes.  Malfoy, however, seemed to take their words to heart, because he nodded to Crabbe and Goyle who quickly let go of her.  Harry nodded, seemingly satisfied with this.  He turned his bright green eyes on the girl and smiled.  "How about sitting with us?  We could use the change."  They waited until she had gathered her plate and goblet, and then walked over to the Gryffindor table with her.

Ron was the first to speak as they sat down with the rest of the boys, Hermione no where in sight.  "That git just keeps getting dumber every year.  Mind you, if you were as hard to get along with as your father, we would've let him dig his own grave."

Antigone grinned.  "Thanks for stepping in.  I don't know what Dad would do if I broke his nose again."

"Probably have you scrub all the toilets in the castle with your toothbrush."  Harry grinned as he offered Antigone a basket of hot rolls.  She took one and added liberal amounts of butter.  "Careful.  You gain too much weight and I'll flatten you at the rematch."

"We're getting the rematch?"

"Yeah.  They couldn't figure out which student did it, but Madam Hooch tested my broomstick and found it had definitely been jinxed.  We'll get another shot at one another after all the normal games are played.  This last score gets thrown out completely."

Tigga grinned.  "Perfect.  A chance to mop the pitch up with you fair and square."

"Watch it, Harry.  She sounds serious, and she's bigger than you."  Seamus Finnegan grinned at them from across the table as Ron snorted into his pumpkin juice.  Harry only smiled back playfully.

"On that snail of a broom Malfoy has?  Not likely, Snape.  Not unless you can talk Dear Old Dad into getting you a new one."

She smiled sweetly.  "Stranger things have happened." 

They finished lunch and just made it to Charms.  Hermione waved her over, frowning sternly in an expression that reminded her of lectures she had half-way earned in her youth.  "Where have you been?"

"Eating."  She slid into the chair next to her mother, who was rolling her eyes.

"Honestly, don't you ever think of anything besides food?"

"Sure I do, I think about Quidditch."

Hermione gave a snort.  "If you stopped eating so much maybe you wouldn't get any taller."  It was nonsense, of course, but Antigone didn't have time to respond as Professor Flitwick began going over the lesson.  He wanted them to review levitation charms, only they weren't using feathers this time.  Being more advanced students, he had brought old, heavy canon balls to the classroom, a more worthy challenge. 

Tigga was a little slower than Hermione, it took her a whole twenty seconds longer to get back into the swing of it, but soon both girls were levitating their canon balls.  While the rest of the class tried to boost their own charm, the girls entertained themselves by making their objects dance together in a sort of canon ball ballet.  Professor Flitwick chuckled at them merrily, advised them not to become overconfident, and moved off to help some of the other students.  Once he was out of earshot and everyone else was occupied, Hermione spoke again in a soft whisper.

"You're too tall."  She sounded rather disgruntled about it, actually.

"Well, it wasn't my idea."

"No, it's all his fault.  I'll have to remember that.  Surely there is something I can do while I'm pregnant, or when you're small.  There must be something that could keep you at a sensible height."

It was Tigga's turn to snort now.  "Right, you grow up to be all powerful.  Even Albus trembles in fear at your passing."

"Don't be impertinent."  Tigga glanced over and saw that the corner of Hermione's mouth was twitching as though she were trying hard not to laugh.  Never being one to pass up a good laugh, Antigone leaned down to whisper into Hermione's ear where she couldn't be overheard.

"Well, Mummy Dear, while you're at it, do you think you could be a little more generous with the curves?  My broomstick has a better body than I do."

Hermione choked and her cannon ball froze, quivered for a moment, and then exploded into a fine powder as a fit of giggles washed over her.  Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch Hermione Granger double over in uncontrollable laughter.  Antigone was standing up straight again, imaging that her cannon ball had arms and legs and was doing the watusi, her face the perfect picture of innocence.

~***~

The day was finally over, and it hadn't been nearly as painful as she had feared.  Several of the Slytherins had tried to grill her on her relationship with her father, but she had fobbed them off.  A few of the braver students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff ventured close enough to ask her if it was actually true, and she merely smiled and assured them that she wasn't going to be poisoning them anytime soon.  The Gryffindors appeared to have held a meeting and had decided that Antigone must take after her mother, because she certainly didn't act like Snape.

If they only knew.

Unshouldering her satchel, she dropped it into a chair by the hearth and rolled her shoulders.  "Dad, I survived!"  She tilted her head to one side and waited for some answering sound.  Nothing came.  Frowning, she tried again.  "I didn't even break Malfoy's nose when he tried to start up with me.  Of course, I broke both of his legs, so that might not be a fair trade."  Still more silence.  It was after supper, so he should be back by now, bent over a stack of essays and slashing them with scarlet ink.  "Hello!  Lord Grouch?  Royal Grumpiness?"

"Excuse me, Miss."

Tigga gave a yelp and whirled around, wand out and in her hand in a flash.  A house elf stood behind her, hands behind his back.  He didn't even flinch at the sight of the wand now leveled at his head.  Unlike traditional house elves, who were slaves and wore no proper clothing as a sign of their enslavement, Dobby wore what looked like a miniature version of a Weasley sweater, a pair of children's' shorts, mismatched socks and a tea cozy on his head.  She had heard of Dobby, of course, and new that he was a free elf who worked for wages by Dumbledore's invitation.

"Excuse me, Miss.  I is Dobby, Miss.  I is coming to deliver a message from your father, Miss."

"Oh… sorry."  She lowered her wand.  "My father left me a message?"

"Yes, Miss.  Professor Snape is saying that you is to be sure and complete your essay for his class before going to bed and that if you is to send to the kitchens for a snack that you is to be making sure that you is not leaving crumbs on the floor this time.  He is saying that he is seeing you in the morning, Miss."

"In the morning?"  Antigone frowned.  "Where has my father gone, Dobby?"

Dobby began to look frightened.  His long, bat-like ears bent down nervously.  "He… he is being called, Miss.  He is being summoned by He Who Must Not Be Named, Miss.  He… He is saying that you is not to worry, Miss."

The world was turned upside down and inside out in one brief second.  Antigone grew even paler than usual and she stumbled back a few steps as though struck by some invisible force.  "Oh… thank you… Dobby.  I… thank you."

Dobby looked at her, concern in his huge, green eyes.  "Should Dobby get someone for you, Miss?  Should Dobby get Professor Dumbledore for you, Miss?"

"No, that's not necessary.  I… I'm fine."

"Something from the kitchens, then, Miss?  Dobby can get you some nice, hot tea, Miss."

"No… no tea.  You may go, Dobby.  I… I need to be alone."  The house elf didn't look very keen on this idea, but she didn't notice his worried expression.  He vanished quietly, leaving her to think on this change of events.  Oh, she knew that it was likely to happen under the circumstances, but she had somehow managed to convince herself that it would not. 

Voldemort had been a memory by the time Antigone was old enough to truly understand what was going on.  She couldn't remember anything of the times when her father was summoned by the Dark Lord other than a faint recollection of how worried her mother was when he didn't come home at night.  It was the tension she remembered.  Then, after Voldemort fell, there were still those Death Eaters who caused trouble from time to time, but there was a respite as the more powerful and higher ranking members fell upon one another like jackals as they tried to fill the now vacant position of power that had been their master's.  By the time Antigone was in her second year, however, the lack of leadership among the Death Eaters was solved and a new power was attempting to rise.  No one was sure who it was, though her father had always suspected Lucius Malfoy. 

During the war her father's identity as a spy had been revealed, so he couldn't go back undercover.  Instead, he jointed the Aurors to help them ferret out the Death Eaters.  He gathered information using old friends in unsavory places, people who heard things so-called 'decent' wizards didn't hear because they were never in the right place to hear them.  Once locations and times were pinned down, he would go out with the Ministry wizards to round up as many of the Death Eaters as they could.  These times away from home Antigone remembered far too well, because they still happened in her time.  She remembered the long, heart wrenching nights where she would cry herself to sleep in her mother's arms, only to be awakened by her father's soft whispers when he came home in the wee hours of morning and bullied her into her own bed. 

But Voldemort had been a bad memory for so long, at least to her.  She had heard such terrifying things about him.  She had heard how evil, how uncaring he could be.  He was supposed to be one hundred times worse than Malfoy or McNair or Knott, a thousand times worse than Grindewald.  He was supposed to be vilest, most evil creature ever to live.

And he had her father. 

A curious sounding whimper escaped her, and she began to pace the living quarters of her father's suite.  Her breathing was becoming labored and ragged, though she didn't notice.  Her fingers worried the smooth wood of her wand and tears threatened to overflow from her eyes.  Everything seemed to be spinning out of control around her.  She needed something to hold onto, something to anchor to reality before she flew out into space.  Without thinking, she stopped pacing and started to run.  She ran out of the rooms her father called 'home' and through the corridors, knocking a pair of Slytherins out of her way as she passed.  Her feet carried her up the stone steps and out into the entrance hall.  She ran without thinking, without looking, up flight after flight of stairs.  Her legs slowed from the exertion and her breath came in ragged gasps, but she eventually made it all the way up to Gryffindor Tower, skidding to a stop in front of a portrait of an extremely fat lady in a pink dress.

"Miss Snape?"  The Fat Lady looked down at her in surprise.  "What are you doing in Gryffindor Tower?"

Antigone tried to regain her breath.  "I… I need… Hermione."

The Fat Lady examined her suspiciously for a long moment, and then vanished from the painting.  After a long moment, time she used to catch her breath, the portrait swung open and Seamus peered out.  "Antigone?  What are you doing up here?"

She moved forward, forcing him back through the portrait hole as she climbed in.  As they entered the Common Room all heads turned towards them. 

"What's she doing here?"

"She's a Slytherin!"

"Oh, that's all right.  It's just Antigone."

"Antigone?"  Finally, the right voice!  The tall girl looked around and saw Hermione staring at her from the third step of the spiral staircase, a frown creasing her brow.  Tigga choked off a cry as she crossed the room and threw her arms about the other girl, burying her face in her shoulder.  Hermione's own arms came up as though out of habit and she hugged the trembling girl.  After a moment, she leg go of Antigone and started trying to pull her up the staircase.  "Come on."

Hermione took her to the dorm she shared with Lavender and Pavarti.  The other girls weren't there, leaving Hermione and Antigone alone.  They went to a double bed with books piled high upon it, sitting down.  "What happened?"

Antigone began to cry again. "He… he's been summoned.  They summoned him!"

Hermione looked as though she was about to ask "Who", but then understanding lit her features.  "Oh… oh dear."  She began to rub Antigone's back gently.  "Well… it's happened before.  He always comes back, doesn't he?"

"I know that… but… what if they hurt him?"  She looked up at her future mother, her face already becoming blotchy.  She didn't cry well.

Hermione frowned.  "Well… look at it this way.  You're here, and he has to be alive to make you, so we know he comes back."

"What if we're wrong?  What if my being here messes everything up and he gets killed because he wasn't ever supposed to be here?"  She sniffled and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her robe.  "Maybe I'll just… blink."

"Blink?"

She nodded.  "Just stop being, blink out of existence."

Hermione frowned again.  "You won't.  I won't let you."  She brushed a stray lock of hair away from Tigga's face and tucked it behind her ear.  "Would you like me to go down to your room with you?"

Antigone's eyes grew wide and she shook her head violently.  "No!  I… I can't go down there.  What… what if he doesn't come back tonight?  I couldn't bear it.  Please don't make me go back down there."  Her voice sounded very small and young.  Hermione smiled hugged her.

"All right, you won't go down there.  I'll keep you here with me."  She straightened back up and offered a weak smile.  "Now, why don't you clear off these books and I'll see if I can't scare something up for you to wear."  She got up and walked over to the door to the dorm.  When she pulled it open, five boys spilled through to the inside; Harry, Ron, Seamus, Neville and Dean.

Harry looked up and offered a weak smile.  "Uhm… Hi Hermione."

"We didn't hear a thing, Mione."  Ron wriggled out from underneath the combined weight of Neville and Dean.

"Of course you didn't.  The door is too thick, even without the silencing charm.  Still, I wanted to talk to you, Ron.  I need one of your pajama tops, the largest one you have."

Ron blinked at her.  "She's staying up here, then?  Won't that get you both in trouble?"

"I'll deal with the teachers.  They'll understand.  Just let us borrow one of your tops?" 

Ron looked towards Antigone who was still sitting on the bed.  She hadn't moved any of the books yet.  He took note of her blotchy and tear streaked face, then nodded.  "All right.  I'll go get it."  He headed towards the boys dorm, and a well placed stare from Hermione sent the other four following him.  A few moments later Ron came back with a large sleep shirt of well worn flannel.  By then, Lavender and Pavarti had returned.

"What's she doing here in our dorm?"  Lavender looked quizzically at Antigone. 

"She's my new pet," responded Hermione testily.  "Honestly, she's right here, Lavender.  Please don't speak about her as though she isn't."  Antigone had moved the books, stacking them neatly on the bedside table.  Hermione came up to her, holding out the shirt.  "Here you are.  This should be comfortable enough."

"She's sleeping here with us, then?  Ooh, it's like a pajama party!"  Pavarti grinned brightly and Lavender seemed to be warming up to the idea.

"No, it's not.  Antigone and Professor Snape have had a disagreement, and she's staying here until he admits that he's an idiot."  Hermione bullied the taller girl out of her robes and into the shirt.  Ron was just bulky enough that it was too big for her, but it only fell a few inches below her knickers.  It made little difference, however, once she had been ordered under the covers of Hermione's bed. 

"Well, she could be here a while, then.  We'd better look into getting her a bed of her own."  Lavender no longer seemed worried and was changing into her own pajamas.  Hermione climbed into bed next to Antigone, pulling the thick blankets over both of them.  Pavarti and Lavender got into their own beds, which were right next to one another, and whispered softly between themselves until lights out.

Under the covers, Hermione squeezed Antigone's trembling hand before whispering, "He'll be all right.  I'm certain of it."