Dumbledore's wand casted magic over a large box which melded into a large silver goblet made of glass that was containing a bright blue flame.

Students from all over in the Great Hall stood and leaned forward in their seats to have a better look at the price of the Triwizard Tournament. That fancy goblet plus a hefty sum of galleons?
Nel would've probably entered if she was of age just to be able to sink her greedy hands into the hundreds of galleons. The thought of having that money- the things she would do…

Seeing as she hadn't taken many clients the year prior, she had to get back on her low life business doings of writing essays, passing test notes and hexing people for a living. She'd find the time to practice her Patronus in her own time and hadn't had a mental breakdown so far which would've resulted in something blowing up or being caught on fire in some time.

"The Goblet of Fire!" Dumbledore announced. "Anyone wishing to submit themselves for the tournament merely write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flamebefore this hour on the 31st evening of October. Do not do so lightly, if chosen there's no turning back. As from this moment the tri-wizard tournament has begun!"

The lovely ladies and gentlemen from the Beauxbaton Academy of Magic had been invited to sit at the Ravenclaw table where they would sit for the rest of the year. Nel had a dreamy look on her eyes as she looked at the back of Ellar's head. He looked so handsome in his eggshell blue uniform. Headmistress Maxine, probably the tallest woman anybody in the Great Hall had ever seen, was to take a seat next to Dumbledore himself.

Our friends from the North. The proud sons and daughters of Durmstrang had on the other hand been invited to sit at the Slytherin table much to the delight of most of the House. Specially the girls who were gawking over Quidditch celebrity Viktor Krum.

Nel was sitting in between Goyle and Theodore. She didn't mind sitting next to Goyle, he was a good client of hers and usually he never bothered her. Except when it came to the showdown of who had claim over the last turkey drumstick on the table. That's when the knives came out.

"Oi, Goyle, switch with Saintday so she can sit next to me," Draco stuck his head out.

Goyle obediently was getting ready to move.

"Excuse me?" Nel shot back with an arched eyebrow. "I'm not switching seats with anyone," she said territorially.

Draco rolled his eyes and without another word switched with Goyle so he could be sitting next to her. Malfoy and Saintday civilly sitting next to each other a most rare sight to witness in the Great Hall.

"What?" She groaned out irritated by the haughty look on his face. "I'm about to make two galleons and you best be ready to pay up." She looked at him confused, really not remembering what he had been talking about.

"Viktor!" Draco raised his hand and waved at the Quidditch player who was now walking in their direction.

Malfoy and Krum on a first name basis? Incredible.

Everybody watched in disbelief as Viktor Krum took a seat in between Malfoy and Goyle. Two other Bulgarians, both equally large, muscular and ruggedly handsome sat in front of him in between Tracey and Daphne. Pansy was staring at one intensely. She didn't waste a moment before she began to brag about her expensive holiday to Merlin knows where. The two other Durmstrang students introduced themselves as Ivo, tall with long hair held back into a manbun and dark almost black eyes. The other dirty blonde simply said "Marko," when shooting a flirty smile at Daphne who gladly returned it.

She felt a hand nudge the side of her leg under the table and turned to see Malfoy's open hand demanding she pay up.

Grumbling under her breath, elbow stinging with stinginess she paid up with bitterness. There went two galleons she was never getting back. He leaned in close and whispered a "Thank you," in almost a sing song mocking tone. She elbowed his rib warning him to stay away from her which only caused him to let out a stifled laugh.

Being too preoccupied with her minor loss, Nel didn't notice the way Tracey was staring at Krum who was sitting right in front of her. Both of her elbows were propped to the table and her fingers were knotted before her lips. Eyes boring into his. It almost looked like she was about to interview him.

"Viktor Krum," She said in a professional tone not even blinking before stretching out her hand. "Tracey Davis," She said sounding official when he looked at her hand funny and shook. Tracey would make sure that Krum remembered that name no matter what.

Her fascination with Krum, it wasn't the typical girlish one. It seemed more of a business relation. "Remember that name," She said ambitiously.
"I've seen you play before. Not impressed."

Marko choked on his drink, brown eyes blowing wide at the comment. Everyone looked at the Quidditch fanatic in shock.

"Vot?" Krum eyed her with an antagonizing look. Eyes narrowing at the girl sitting in front of him. How did Tracey have the audacity to say that to a World Class Seeker.

"Shut up Davis!" Pansy snapped horrified at her comment. "You can't even make the Slytherin Quidditch Team!" She added nastily causing several Quidditch players in the table to laugh cruelly. It was true, for the past three years Tracey had tried out for the Slytherin Quidditch team and for one reason or another she never really made the cut.

Ouch.

Rumor was that the Slytherin Quidditch team didn't take any ladies, which only made Tracey more motivated to break the glass ceiling and make it to the team.

The Quidditch fanatic ignored them and kept her focused gaze on Krum. The entire table gawking with astonishment.

"You might be quite agile, but…" Tracey proceeded to explain on an elaborate Quidditch strategy. One which attacked all of Krum's weaknesses, (if they were any, really). She also spoke about playing on some of his strengths, like agility, balance and the creativity he had when riding a broom. "… like using your sloth grip roll, I think it could've been a great offensive when countering Lynch in the last game."

All students in the Slytherin table were silent. Forks being held midair, mouths agape all expecting Krum's volatile reaction at the unnecessary advice and unwanted feedback.

"In total this would probably increase your turnover ratio and shorten the average time it takes you to capture and catch the snitch."

Absolute and utter silence. With the exception of other students conversing and enjoying their dinners on other tables.

"Exa," Viktor spoke after a moment in his native Bulgarian. "Vot did you say your name vas again?" To everyone's surprise he cracked a smiled and let out a short laugh.

Tracey grinned triumphantly. Leave it to her to make friends with Krum in the most unconventional of ways. She babbled on excitedly about how disappointed she was there would be no Quidditch this year because of the Triwizard Tournament and that regardless of it she was still planning on following her rigorous morning exercise training. To everyone's SHOCK Krum asked if he could join.

Nel was gawking with her eyes narrowed in blatant disbelief when she heard her name sound behind her in a long, nasal, draw which she was more than familiar with. She turned to see Professor Snape standing behind her, arms crossed behind his back, his typical bored scowl on his sallow face.

"My office. Now." He interrupted, demanding her presence.

Several "Oooooooooohs," sounded in the Slytherin table.

"First day and you already have detention?" Theo whispered to her disbelievingly. She let out an irritated sigh before standing up and following after the Potions Master. Great. What now?

"I don't pretend to know or care about your whereabouts over the course of the summer," He began in a most welcoming tone when they arrived at his office. Yes, that was sarcasm. "However, seeing as you have been placed under the guardianship of the Lestranges I will ask. How was your holiday Saintday?" He said to her as he rounded around his desk and took leaned forward looking at her with expectant eyes.

For a moment Elowen flashbacked to her summer. Worse things had happened to her than being held hostage in a painful etiquette school.

"It was fine," She responded flatly.

"And your… dysfunctional emotional control?" He raised his eyes leaning his weight on his palms.

"It's fine," She was about to say but before she could react, he raised his wand at her and peered inside of her mind. Grappling with the sudden invasion she struggled to stand, knees growing weak and slowly sat on the chair across from his desk. Visions of arriving at the House of Lestrange suddenly flashed. The dining table that kicked, being under the command of the Imperio curse, meeting Ellar, sipping wine in the private study, the taste of wine that awful bitterness that made goosebumps erect on her arms, trying to hold Ellar's hand while he showed her the diving cliffs behind his house, arriving at Malfoy Manor after the Quidditch World Cup–

"That's private," She rasped, wincing at the mental strain. Not wanting him to know what she saw, what she felt.

"Nothing is private to the Dark Lord."

Having a mental shut down she envisioned a large, metal safe box one which shut Snape out and locked itself the combination dial spinning a couple of times before clicking shut loudly.

"What?" She breathed out beyond perplexed, snapping out of the mental trace. She looked at him both of her eyes blown wide at the shocking revelation.

"Mediocre at best, but holds promise," the professor acknowledged. Which coming from Snape could've been considered praise.

Still in shock at his words she narrowed her eyes at him with suspicion. "What did you say professor?" she raised a hand at him asking him to stop with his mental invasion. "About the Dark Lord?" She specified after receiving a deafening silence as an answer.

Professor Snape looked deep in thought, almost as if he was rehearsing a game of wizard's chess in his head. One that had each and every move carefully calculated.

"Are you really so daft you've barely realized I have been teaching you Occlumency lessons for the past year?"

"Occlumency?" she repeated the unfamiliar term. A term Hogwarts student didn't learn until their fifth or sixth year. A lesson or magical art that wasn't even in the school's curriculum.

"Occlumency, the art of magically closing one's mind against Legilimency, or mind readers," Snape explained. "Do try and keep up Saintday," he drawled out sounding almost irritated as he lectured the fourth-year student.

She processed this lecture for the first time, actually taking it and remaining silent for a moment as she soaked in the severity of the teaching. All the time the professor had sacrificed to sit with her and lecture her about this art. Nobody in their right mind would put somebody through such a painful process if it weren't to bear any fruits.

"Why?" She asked shaking her head slightly at his perplexing generosity. "Why do I need to learn Occlumency? What does this have to do with the Lestranges?"

Snape looked deep in thought as pondered on what his next move would be taking proper time to properly choose what his next words would be and what they would symbolize. Both weighting the impact and significant momentum they would have on the young lady standing before him.

"You're more than familiar with the events that transpired at the Quidditch World Cup this summer." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Somehow, someway, Snape knew she had been there. Or at least that she was aware of the current events that had transpired only some days ago.

"I was there," She admitted eyeing the copy of the Daily Prophet that some of her fellow house mates had been reading the same day earlier. Her eyes were particularly focused on the vivid moving image of the Dark Lord's mark knotting in the dark skies giving her an eerie feeling.

"The Lestranges had the reputation of being one of the most devoted followers of You-Know-Who." Snape approached her rounding around her with his head help up high and hands held behind his back. "Some of them preferred the kiss of death or even rotting in the cells of Azkaban for eternity rather than denouncing the Dark Lord's name…" She looked over her shoulder to see a obscure look suddenly flash over Snape's pale features. From the way he was speaking, it almost sounded as if he was a dark follower of Voldemort. At this point, she wouldn't have been surprised. Snape was cold, cruel, abusive to an extent, but there was some humanity to him. It was hard to read where his allegiances would truly lie.
"I hope you don't think their guardianship and sudden interest in an orphan… like you… stems from the kindness of their… hearts."

The girl couldn't help but mock at the professors studied words. "What, would they, possibly, want with me?" She spoke slowly pronouncing each and every word and sentence in the same dramatic tone and with the same weighted emotion that he did, yet hers was mocking, almost sarcastic.
"I'm just an orphan," she said dully and that she was.

No name, no claims to any fortunes, no blood rights or privileges.

"An orphan who speaks Parseltongue."

She was silent at the statement.

"Do you know who was infamous for speaking to snakes as well?" She could feel the professor standing right behind her. Still silent she simply nodded. She had studied this in one of her many detentions with the professor.
Salazar Slytherin? Harry Potter? Harpo the Foul? Were only a few names of other fluent Parselmouths through history; However, that was not the he was seeking and she knew it.

"Voldemort," she recognized.

Snape arched a most intriguing eyebrow at her response.

"Dare you, utter his name, " he rounded about her and returned to his desk.

"You-Know-Who, is quite a mouthful, Sir," She replied snidely with just the edge of her lips turning up in a sly leer at having earned a reaction out of the professor.

"This isn't a laughing matter Saintday!" He suddenly snapped almost like that time she had gifted him the gloves to him on Christmas when he lost it. He slapped his hands on his desk and glared dangerously. Nel flinched at the harshness in his tone.

"Why sir?" She pressed, more curious than intimidated. "Would the Dark Lord want me? He himself is fluent in Parseltongue. He doesn't need me."

Keeping his gaze lowered, Snape braced himself for what he was about to admit or reveal to the Girl Who Died. He took in a deep breath bracing himself both emotionally and intellectually for what was to follow. Whatever he was about to say had to be said carefully.

"He doesn't need you for that." The Professor looked at her with his dark eyed zeroed in on her stunned expression. He knew. Snape knew, he had always known who she was, where she came from, the countless of secrets and questions that to this day burdened her.

"Then for what?" She jumped to her feet, a furious look on her face.

Snape was silent.

"I know Sirius Black was the one that left me at the Abbey! I know somebody had me! I know that I am cursed! I know they did unspeakable things to me!" She shouted at him willed with rage. She was practically heaving when she pulled out her wand and pointed it at her professor with meaning to offend.

"You'll tell me," She threatened ardently, a deep grimace on her face.
"You'll tell me! Now!" She exclaimed voice cracking, hand slightly shaking as she steadied her grip. Heart in her throat suddenly making it hard to breath.

Regardless of her offense Snape remained calm and collected.

"Or what?" He arched a black eyebrow again flashing her an intrigued look yet remaining completely unamused. "You'll make my head swell like a balloon? Make me vomit slugs?"

She faltered slightly, lowering her want. Yet she did not lower her weapon or eyes from his direction. She meant it. She would hurt him if she had to. Professor or not, more skilled or not. She wouldn't hesitate in attacking.
"You tell me," she barked out heatedly.

"You are more naïve than I originally perceived if you think there is any possibility that your childish spells will have any effect on me," He said calmly walking around his desk with his guard lowered and pulling out what looked like a wine bottle from underneath.

"Tell me!" She demanded with a scream.

The professor remained cool, "Sit," he ordered in an icy voice as he uncorked the bottle he had reached for. With his same hand he dove into his drawers and pulled out two chalices with his fingers. Setting them on the desk he proceeded to pour an orange golden liquid into both of them. Was he giving her alcohol?

"Lulo juice," He began to explain almost as if he could've heard the unasked question. It was just juice. "Fine extract from a rare nightshade."

Taking the chalice in her hand she looked at the juice with suspicion. Something was off. Looking up she saw his judging eyes carefully watching her before he brought the chalice to his mouth and drank. She hadn't seen him slip anything into it and he was also drinking it.
Hesitantly she did the same when she suddenly caught a whiff of Valerian springs.

She hadn't made a mistake. She couldn't trust Snape.
Especially when he was attempting to drug her with forgetfulness potion.

In what seemed like a half of a second the chalice slipped from her hands and again she pointed her wand at him.

"Petrificus T-"

She wasn't fast enough.

"Obliviate!"

A brunette wearing a Slytherin uniform walked around the corridors of Hogwarts at night. A dazed look on her face as she looked up at the many moving and talking portraits with much intrigue.

She seemed lost in thought or wonderment at the moving pictures.

"Nel!" She heard someone call her name. Still with a misty look on her face she turned down the corridor to look at somebody familiar. A friend? What was his name again? Right, Harry who was walking with Fred or George was it? and Hermine.

"Hiya," She said with a loopy smile.

"We've been looking for you everywhere!" Harry said. "What happened to you after the Quidditch match?"

She gave him a confused look. Quidditch? What was he talking about?

"We lost you," Hermine said.

"We looked for you," The red head added with a concerned look.

"We couldn't find you," the girl again added for her friend.

"You-You never answered any of my letters," Harry said sounding hurt.

"Quidditch?" She had to ask for further clarification.

The three Gryffindors all shared a perplexed look amongst themselves.

"The Quidditch World Cup?" The tall ginger boy said narrowing his eyes with the same confusion he shared with his friends.

"Oh, right," She shook her head slightly. "Sorry Fred. Guess it slipped my mind," She smiled at the three sheepishly. "Luckily, I made it out safe. No harm done."

"Fred?" Ron said sounding even more puzzled.

"She's been obliviated," Hermione suddenly realized as she took in the lack of recent memory and dazed and confusion the girl seemed to be displaying as a symptom.

"Obliviated?" Harry looked at Hermione with surprise. "Like Lockhart?"

"But why?"

Hermione stepped closer taking a look at the Slytherin's dazed expression. She seemed unharmed, just stunned and confused. This had to had been done recently.

"She seems to remember the game. So, a particular memory must have been extracted from her. She should regain full consciousness in a couple of hours."

The boy with glasses stepped forward and reached for her arm carefully. "Nel where are you coming from? Who did this to you?"

The perplexed look on her face was the answer he needed.

"Right- never mind," He said awkwardly. "I'll get you back to the Slytherin Common Room," he said leading her to the side.

"We're glad you're okay!" Hermione called after the two as they made their way to the dungeons.

Harry escorted Nel down the stairs and into the dungeon where the Slytherin Common Room was located.

"Nel," He licked his chapped lips. "Why didn't you answer any of my letters?" He asked hoping she wouldn't be confused enough to not give him an answer.

"Oh?" She gave him an odd look. "I was tied up to a chair for a week with Astringe Snare," she explained her cruel reality witch ease and casualness.

"What?" He stammered suddenly looking at her with disbelief. Part of Harry was hoping delusion was a side effect of having been obliviated.

"Hmm? What?" She mused casually as she walked with her hands held behind her back. "It's like Devil's Snare, you know?"

Never in a million years would Elowen Saintday have admitted to something like this in her fully five senses. Pain was something she internalized and compartmented, nothing something she shared with others. It would then become a vulnerability and being vulnerable simply made you prey to worse things in the world.

She would've never said this to another soul, much less to Harry Potter.

"I know what Astringe Snare is!" Harry shook his head and pulling on her arms brought her to a halt. "Who did this to you?"

"My guardian." Again, another admission.

Harry was stunned. He looked at her with his eyes wide. A lot more things made sense now. Like Nel's inability to conjure a Patronus. Her hostility around others, violent outburst, low self-esteem. But Harry didn't pity her, if anything he understood. It was the kind of life he was also familiar with.

"Did you-?" He began. "Did they-?" he wanted to ask more questions yet couldn't bring himself to do it. His morbid curiosity demanding more details. "Are you okay?" He finally asked with apprehension.

"Me?" She shrugged with a knotted eyebrow. "Are any of us ever really okay?"

Fair point.

"Nel," he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I…," He lowered his eyes. Having also never conversed about the abuse he endured at the hands of the Dursley's for years. The neglect, all those sleepless nights locked up without dinner in the dusty cupboard with spiders as his sole company. It wasn't only the physical abuse, there was also the emotional part of it. Being called worthless and constantly being reminded that you're waste of space by your family, people who are supposed to care and love you, could be really painful. The hitting with kitchen spoons and whooping with belt buckles whenever he lost control of his magical abilities-

Harry knew what it was like.

"I know what it's like," he also admitted.

Something he had never revealed to another soul be it Ron or Hermione.

"I understand," he said in a low voice. "I also…" He choked on his words, being unable to speak with the sudden knot that had formed in his throat. "If you ever want to, you know, talk about it," He offered awkwardly.

Still under the aftereffects of a memory loss charms she still look a little confused, but it seemed like she had grasped the concept of what Harry was saying to her. Simply smiling at him sweetly.

For some reason Harry didn't feel like she meant it or that it was a sincere smile. If Nel had actually been in her five senses she might've bit him for putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Having a late-night stroll with your girlfriend Potter?"

Of course.

Draco Malfoy suddenly entered the dungeon, being escorted by his two loyal followers Crabbe and Goyle who tailed a step or two behind him.

"Are you my boyfriend?" The girl asked cluelessly, remaining unbothered by the question.

"No," Harry simply answered. He kept his green eyes focused on Malfoy as he descended the steps. She nodded at his answer. "Hey, who's the cute blond?" She whispered to Harry with a slight grin on her features.

Harry didn't know if the question made him want to laugh or vomit. She giggled at his reaction.

"Something funny Saintday?" Malfoy threateningly stepped up and sneered getting really close to her. The Slytherin girl didn't flinch back at the invasion of space. Instead she wore a lazy smile and a dazed look in her eyes. It took him less than a moment to realize there was something off.

"Your face is funny," She shot back with a lame come back before once again giggling at what seemed to be a very personal joke.

"What did you do to her?" Malfoy accused, his silver eyes darting towards Potter. Wand already drawn in an offensive stance.

Harry did the same. "Me? It was probably one of you snakes," He glared with disdain.

Hissing sounds echoed the chamber at the mentioning of the word snake and all eyes turned to the Parselmouth in the room.

"What's she saying?" Goyle asked Harry with an uneasy look on his face.

Gibberish really.

Harry ignored his question and gave a step back. "I found her wondering lost in the hallways. Looks like she's been obliterated."

The three Slytherins looked shot at the revelation.

"And I'm not leaving until Davis or Nott come out and get her," Harry stated boldly pointing his weapons at all three of the Slytherins not flatering in his words.

Draco looked at his rival for a moment, an unamused expression on his face. "And they say chivalry is dead," he sneered with a mocking laugh which made his friends follow in suit and also laugh.
"She's one of us. We'll take it from here, Potter."

With that he nodded his head to the side and without any question Goyle put a meaty claw on the girl's shoulder and roughly pulled her away from Harry's side and into theirs. Where she simply stood eyeing her surroundings and the two hulking gorilla boys that were standing next to her.

"I'm not-" Harry was silence when the wand was again raised to his face. Draco stepped forward glowering at him with hatred. It was that same look he had given both him and Hermione on top of the Dark Tower the night they had helped Sirius escape 'Not a word.'

Harry wouldn't have trusted Malfoy with anything, much less with a stunned person, but he had taken care of his friend before. Maybe Malfoy was vile and rotten, but what choice did Harry have?
He wasn't wrong she was one of them and odds were they weren't fetching Davis or Nott any time soon.

If Malfoy had successfully managed to care for her once he could do it again. Right?

However, how odd- for two people that are constantly jumping at each other's throats for them to care so much about the other at the same time.

Without another word Harry turned away and left.

The boys escorted the dazed Slytherin inside the Common Room.

Nel was looking in awe at the large dark shadows of creatures swimming that could be seen from the tinted windows of the common room.

"Will she be okay?" Crabbe asked sounding almost concerned before retreating. "I'm really going to need someone to write my Defense Against the Dark Arts papers for me this year."

Draco fought the terrible urge to roll his eyes. However, he couldn't help but glare as his two friends retreated.

The moment they were gone he turned to the girl who was blankly starring at him.

"Who did this to you?" He demanded to know. If he could put his money on it, he would've betted for that slimy French bastard. He did not trust him one bit. Hell, he even preferred bloody Saint Potter to that frog.

"Who?" She repeated still confused.

"Yes. Who?" He insisted.

"Who? Who?" She pressed.

"WHO?"

"You sound like an owl," She laughed obnoxiously before slapping a knee only making him angrier.

"Sit." He said. It wasn't a request; it was an order. When she didn't comply, he placed his hands on her shoulders and lead her to a sofa chair where he gently pushed her down to the cushioned seat.

"What is the last thing you recall?"

Looking as if she was deep in thought, she scratched her chin perplexed. As hard as she tried to wind her memory it was completely blank, a whole chunk of it having been removed from her consciousness.
"I don't know… I was looking at some paintings?"

"We were in the Great Hall having dinner-" he began. The blank look on her face made it evident that she did not remember that. "Davis harassed Krum to be her friend-" Again a blank stare. Looking for a prop he pulled of two golden galleons from his pocket. "You lost a bet?"

"Hey! That's mine!" She suddenly exclaimed greedily reaching for his hand.

Leave it to Saintday to remember that. She could've been a niffler in another life. Fisting the money away with a teasing leer edging his mouth he put it away. "Bet's a bet. I don't care if you've been obliviated or not."

Question was who? And why?

He frowned at her slightly before taking a seat in the sofa chair across from her.

"Snape told you to meet him in his office. Did you ever make it?"

She shrugged with a pursed smile, raising her arms up.
Did she ever make it? Snape was a slimy git too, but why would he obliviate a student? What could she have possibly done? Or what could she possibly known or witnessed that would compromise someone in such a way they had to obliviate her?

At the same time Snape anxiously paced back in forth in the Headmaster's office. A deep canyon had formed in between his eyebrows from the deep scowling he couldn't seem to be able to stop. He ran his hands through his greasy hair anxiously and repeatedly always pushing it back over his forehead as he paced from one side of the room to the other.

"She's not ready Severus," Dumbledore, looking down at the man from his half-moon glasses looked at him seriously with both of his held hands falling on his standing lap.

"She'll never be ready!" The other man snaped back. "There is no humane way to prepared someone for that type of revelation."

Angry. Snape fought the urge to kick over a small table, to pull the curtains down and scream, he fought the urge to destroy something, maybe even himself. His shoulders weighted down with all the guilt his soul bore. Dark flashbacks came to him about what happened during that obscure night. The cries of a dark creature still fresh in his memory, the shattered stone, the pain that came with the tolling price of practicing such dark magic.

"What do you recon we do?" Eyes darting across the room, Snape's black ones finally focused on Dumbledore. "Wait for the Dark Lord to seize her? She's already under the guardianship of the Lestranges and closer to him than ever!"

"It is her purpose," Dumbledore said coldly with much indifference. "As I've told you before, it does not matter where Elowen Saintday resides, the Dark Lord will find her. How many more lives must be lost?"

Snape looked at him darkly. Dumbledore had been the one to send the order to terminate the existence of this child… or well… thing, whatever it was that she was. Of course, he would have an indifference to whether she lived or not. She served no purpose to him.
She wasn't 'The Chosen One' if anything she was the antithesis to that.

"She's a child," Snape looked absolutely torn. "She has a soul, feelings. I have witnessed not only her rage and horrors, but her empathy as well."

For a brief moment he flashbacked to that Christmas Day when she gifted him the most atrocious gloves he had ever seen. Perhaps they were beyond repair and useless at its best, but what they meant…
It was a reminder that the child standing before him was in fact human. She was capable of feeling not just darkness but love, care and empathy amongst all other emotions that make humans, human.

It wasn't fair that she had been brought into this world and branded to fulfill the Dark Lord's ill purposes. In truth Nel Saintday was an abomination, the type of creature muggles would describe as a monster in lore and tales of horrific terror. How could one stop the world from turning? Save her from her own horrific destiny? Her life wasn't fair, none of it was from the moment of her creation to what her horrible demise would be.

Whatever she was, whatever thing or creature she was, she should've been empty and void of all emotions. A creature like her shouldn't be able to feel.

"She's cursed Severus. You know she has already been branded as his. The stars are written on her face." Dumbledore stepped forward to attempt and bring some comfort to the anguished man.

"She needs to know."

Albus looked at his most loyal follower with sad eyes before placing a comforting touch on his shoulder. "The time will come," he said. "When everything will fall into place. Secrets will be unraveled, and prophecies will be fulfilled. For now," He stepped back and with a lost gaze focused his eyes on the crackling fireplace that warmed his cold office. "It is best that Ms. Saintday remain under our care and in this institution. For now, she'll be most safe here at Hogwarts."