A/N – OK guys, I've had this chappy written for agggggeeessss but never got the time to type it up. The Easter hols caught up with me and I decided to take a truly undeserved break, lol and do absolutely nothing. So I'm really really really sorry for the delay and unfortunately (more bad news) there may be more upcoming delays as I've a very busy project coming to a head. Now, with regards to the actual chapter, I had awful trouble with contradictions with my time line and dead people all of a sudden being alive and such. If any such discrepancies are noticed, please let me know. Thanks and enjoy!! ~ silvermoonfae
Mourning and Determination
'Hold up a second! Da? The former greasy bat of the dungeons has another shocker to amaze us all? As well as his miraculous reformation, he has a daughter. Merlin, I'm going to faint!' However many times he told himself that the truth was staring at him, straight in the face, his brain just wouldn't process it. 'Da? Snape? Daughter? What! I think I'm going into shock!' Harry thought. Then he glanced over at Snape who was staring aimlessly at her, quite speechless. 'I think HE'S going into shock.' Harry mentally rolled his eyes. ' Way to spring this on your poor old father.' he thought at the girl. He guessed he was the one to proceed with the formalities as Snape was temporarily (he hoped) incapacitated. Strangely enough, he felt quite comfortable around her. She emanated a distinct aura of safety, warmth and knowledge. Like she was peering straight into his soul, not an intruder, but more like an aid in sadness and insecurity that surrounded him, knowing what he had been through without ever having to tell her. It was quite unexpected from the daughter of formidable Potions Professor who never indulged in such things as emotions until recently.
Slowly drawing himself upright, making use of the many masks he had developed in light of his 'situation' at his relatives, he wore an easy smile and languidly strolled to the door, where she was still leaning casually. Holding out his hand, pleasant smile still apparent, without a single stutter, flinch or wince, he introduced himself. "Ah, please forgive your, em, father. I dare say he has gone into shock. My name is Harry Potter," he paused for the usual flicker of the eyes to his scar, maybe a gasp or even a scream if he was unlucky. However, he was faintly surprised, yet pleased when she just gripped his hand firmly, smiling warmly. "Please, have a seat while the 'dungeon bat' comes 'round," he invited with an elegant gesture of his hand.
Her eyes sparkled in undisguised mirth. "S'a pleasure to meet ya, Harry. I'm Clíona and as yeh already figured out, this here" she paused slyly "dungeon bat, is me da." She settled into the chair opposite Harry, glancing at her father, who still remained frozen, staring dazzedly at the spot she had just vacated.
"You're not from around here then?" Harry asked. Still a bit overwhelmed by his own easy acceptance of this, forgive the contradiction, but familiar stranger.
"Yeh got that righ' in one. I'm from just across the water, from Ireland. Me ma passed recently," her eyes lost their mischevious sparkle and deadened with the mention of her mum, "and so I was sent here, to me da." She laughed pleasantly, like tinkling bells and as quickly as the sorrow had descended it lifted with her laughter, "And well, as yeh probably guessed, he hasn't seen me in a long, long time." Simultaneously they turned towards and laughed at his still immobile stature.
Snape couldn't comprehend that HIS daughter, whom he hadn't seen in almost 15 years, his beautiful little girl had returned. He vaguely listened to Harry and his daughter's easy camaraderie, but not really absorbing what was being said. All that was running through his head was, 'No. She couldn't be here. This was a mistake. She was in danger. She went back to her mother's homeland to keep her safe. No!' and variations of such, repeating over and over, like a broken record. What was he going to do? Was his wife here too? Why was she here? The sound of laughter broke his focused, single-minded thoughts and he realised that he had been stupidly staring absently at empty wall.
Taking a deep breath, closing his eyes and gathering his emotions, he turned to face his daughter, composed and ready for anything, or so he thought. He didn't know what to expect. Fear and worry inevitable bled through his veins, his heart thumping wildly. To say he was shocked to see Harry so comfortable with another so soon after his trauma, particularly his daughter, was an understatement. Harry had been skittish and fearful of everything after his ordeal. Now, here he was , conversing quite casually with his daughter or more so, a stranger at that. He shook his head, trying to clear his muddled thoughts, worried that he had somehow fallen into an alternative universe, like the muggle fairytale, Alice in Wonderland. Perhaps he had just simply been knocked unconscious.
Harry noticed Snape first, rousing from his almost comatose state. Immediately, a change could be perceived about him, and he became nervous and distressed in light of his audience. Standing up quickly, hands fidgeting, expression tense and strained, posture ready for flight he stuttered "Ah sir, em, I thi – think I should let Clíona explain." and without a second glance he raced out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar, disappearing from sight. He was definitely in flight mode.
Snape stared after the boy in weary sadness, hoping he could do right by him. But every so often he would think the task almost insurmountable. Curiously he also caught Clíona staring after him, sorrow marking her young face, a knowing look evident in her eyes. Snape arched a delicate eyebrow in suspicion and concern. She knew something, but he knew Harry wouldn't have told her anything yet. 'Interesting' he thought and gracefully he lowered himself into the chair gazing steadily at his daughter contemplating his next move. For the first time in his life, he came up with nothing. Words escaped him, thoughts fled to the back recesses of his brain. He was blank. His daughter had turned up, literally, on his doorstep, no explanation and completely alone. Where was her mother? His wife? His beloved Dearbháil? He sighed heavily, head in hands in an unnatural admittance of weariness breaking his mask.
"Clíona -" his voice caught in the back of his throat with emotion. Again he sighed sadly and lifted his head slightly to stare into his daughter's sweet face. He noticed that she was the image of her mother, from the dirty blond hair to the slight quirk to her lips. However, he could see elements of himself creeping in as she matured. Her slender, elegant hands, delicately folded on her knee and her tall, athletic (yes, Snape is athletic under those billowing robes) build. His eyes, those dark, pitch black, eyes held his gaze defiantly, holding a warmth that was only starting to reappear in his own. However, they now lacked the mischievous sparkle, reminiscent of her mother, of when she first arrive. She looked vaguely bewildered if still defiant at her situation, as if everything was moving in fast forward.
He started again and in view of recent events he decided to forgo his usual snarkiness with his daughter. "Clíona, Merlin, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Ireland with your mother. Where is she?" he glanced about, as if expecting her to appear at any moment now.
"Da -" her own voice cracked at the disuse of the unfamiliar word, "Oh da!" She broke down. She flung herself at Snape,hanging onto his neck for dear life, sobbing endlessly. Snape sat stiffly, unused to such emotional situations, but then he let instinct come forth and embraced his heartbroken child, muttering nonsensical reassurances. Pain shone around her very pain, almost physically manifesting itself, it was so deep. "Da, we were supposed to be safe there. No one knew, righ' ? But, oh god, she's gone. Ma's gone!" she wailed burrowing herself into his billowing robes.
Snape froze, yet again. A sharp resounding 'No!' echoed through his skull. 'Impossible! No one knew. No one!' But the pain the child bore told a different story. Truth! 'Oh Merlin'. He held onto his daughter, hurting in their shared sorrow. His love gone forever, their last meeting, their last embrace was over 15 years ago. Now he would never see her again. He clenched his eyes shut in an uncharacteristic show of pain. A lone tear trickled from beneath his dark lashes, travelling down his gently creased faced, a journey of pain and sorrow, embraced in that one pearly tear.
They sat like that for God knows how long. Both calming and comforting the other in their shared pain. Both comfortable in their intimacy, despite their prolonged separation as father and daughter. When the tears dissipated and both were quietly lost in their thoughts of their dear one's loss, sharing in the deep soul-binding sorrow that remained, Snape asked a simple question. "How?"
"Two months ago" she began quietly, leaning into the reassuring touch, as Snape unconsciously carded his fingers through her long, silky hair. The colour was of her mothers but the texture, definitely of her fathers, when it was clean. "I was just finished school and was walkin' back with me mates. We were joking and messing like nothin' was wrong, as far as we were concerned, nothing was. " Her eyes focused distantly into the past, at the traumatic scene mere months ago. "We had just turned off into the fields to cut across the glosha to my place, a short cut if ya will." She closed her eyes, for a minute, composing herself. "We came into view of the house and I saw 'it' hanging over the roof, eerily mocking me from the sky above." There was no need for any explanation for what 'it' was. He knew! "I sent me mates home, making up some silly excuse I cant remember now, as they were muggles themselves and just stood there frozen in panic. I knew no one who could help me. I didn't know of any other wizards or witches around. I was alone. There really was only one option left and so I entered slowly and cautiously through the wreck of a front door. I dreaded what I would find, but hoped against fate itself that I was mistaken, that it was all a horrible dream or something." Pain laced her voice as she persevered. "A million different scenarios flitted through my head in about a second, none of which I knew to be true. Deep down I knew what I would find." She paused again and Snape didn't press. He couldn't imagine how hard it was for her to relive that horrible memory. She would tell it at her own pace. The retelling was obviously just as painful as the actual day the tragedy occurred. His heart clenched painfully with profound sadness for his late wife and the pain his daughter was in. Life just wasn't fair.
The tears slowly began again, but she didn't seem to notice lost in her memory. "I went inside, straight into the livin' room when I saw her. She looked peaceful, her eyes wide, but in acceptance of her fate. Ma...." her voice choked with suppressed emotion, "I knew what had happened. Ma taught me all I needed to know and she taught me well. The lingering effects of the Avada Kedavra were obvious. She bore no other injuries and I was just grateful she hadn't suffered." Finally she looked him straight in the eyes, tears still clinging like little jewels from her long lashes. "But I knew all 'bout YOU of course." Putting emphasis on the 'YOU' , so not only as him being her father but also perhaps his less savoury occupation. He wouldn't elaborate. If she knew, she knew, therefore no need to confirm nor deny. She was still here, wasn't she? "I knew I had me da still living and where he worked and such. Me ma would never let me forget and so I made my ways her with what little I have. And so that brings us to now I suppose," she quietly concluded and she slumped against him in emotional exhaustion. His mind still couldn't process all the facts. His daughter was here, his beloved wife Dearbháil was gone forever. He sighed again with weariness.
"Child, I'm so sorry I had to leave you to all that. Never doubt that I love you for I do with all my heart. But you would have been in even more danger than if I had stayed with you," he was heartfelt and sincere and yes, emotional. "That's why I sent you to stay in your mother's homeland. Honestly I'm at a loss of what to do Clíona, I have failed you and your mother badly. Dearbháil – Dearbháil is gone now. But know this, I will never, NEVER, leave you again!" he unequivocally reassured the distraught girl. His obsidian eyes sparkled suspiciously at the end of his passionate declaration.
Finally the stern rein Snape had on his emotions crumbled as his daughter flung herself into his arms, a reunion for the first time in over ten years.
HPHPHP
Slowly and quietly he closed the door from where he was eavesdropping guiltily. A small smile graced his lips. But his emerald eyes sparkled with unshed tears and shone with unbridled sorrow. A sorrow so deep and soul shattering, a world heavy weariness, which had temporarily been relieved, had once again descended upon the thin, wiry frame of the teen.
He rejoiced with Snape for his love for his daughter and their reunion and mourned with him, the loss of his beloved. The love, even from Snape was palpable within the room, and it reminded once again, that it would be something he would never experience. Love, a parents love, a hug, comfort and praise and a sense of belonging within the family unit. Something which was lost to him.
Sighing sadly, he tip toed sneakily to his room and settled in for a night of disturbed, nightmare infested sleep.
HPHPHP
Snape settled into his favourite chair in front of the fire, after showing Clíona to the guest room and checking on Harry who was asleep, if restlessly. He nursed a glass of Irish Whiskey that Dearbháil had given him just before she had left. It was kept for special occasions and what better way to remember her than to savour it, staring absently into the heart of the fire. He dispelled all the tension and stress that had built up these pasta few days in one long expelled breath. In a rare unguarded moment, he slumped down, head in his hands in despair, letting go of his emotions and panicking. What was he going to do now? The only light in the room was the fire burning merrily in contrast to his sombre mood and so casting shadows across his defeated form, giving new life to his despair and sorrow. Life for Snape had been just one continuous stream of bad luck and tragedy's. Surely he was due some good now?
And so he sat there, immersed in his memories both good and bad. Meeting Dearbháil, their wedding, the birth of Clíona and their departure to Ireland. Dearbháil O' Sullivan, his lifesaver, after he had sunk and thoroughly wallowed in the dark pit of despair, when Lily Potter, his best friend and hers, was killed. She was the sunshine to his darkness, lighting up his whole world with her quirky Irish accent and mischievous twinkle shining in her eye and her sheer determination and stubbornness to get through to him. She reminded him that Lily would have wanted them to continue with their lives, regardless and not mourn overly so for life still went on. Their souls had bonded when they had first met, and Lily was chuffed with both of them, for she regarded herself the one to set them up. It was all a bed of roses until Lily's death but Dearbháil and his little girl had pulled him from the darkness.
Then the image of their wedding flashed by his mind's eye. She looked stunning in a white simple dress, that gave her the ethereal appearance of some Irish mythical fairy. Her hair tumbled gracefully in blond locks down her back, a single white Lily woven into her tresses in tribute to her best friend and maid of honour (they were as close as twins), as she twirled around, making her dress fan out daintily, as her laugh chimed through the crisp cool Irish air, a single purple rose in her hand. Simple elegance and beauty, the love of his life.
He mourned her desperately. Never again would he thread his fingers through her silky blond locks. Never again would he hear her laugh, like sweet chimes tinkling. Never again would he feel how her body melded perfectly against his, made for each other. Never again would he see the love in her eyes. Never again!
He sat there until dawn broke through the ominous dark clouds, a slither of light at first, growing and growing, dispersing the baleful clouds until the fiery sun shone in all its glory, bringing along its rays, hope. As it bathed his face in the warmth of a fresh sun, he felt the hope swell within him and determination glinted sharply in his black opal eyes. "For you, Dearbháil and Lily. I'll do right by my daughter and Harry. We. Will. Survive. And. Live!" he whispered solemnly and fiercely to the empty room. He closed his eyes in promise and lifted his head slightly as a slight breeze appeared to swirl around him. He must have been more entranced by his memories than he previously thought, for he could almost feel the soft caress of his wife's delicate hands smoothing his hair back like she used to do and the sweet tinkle of her laugh. He could even smell the jasmine scent that Lily favoured and her powerful aura. His eyes snapped open and immediately it all dispersed. However the lingering tingle of magic pervaded the air and he knew that they truly had heard his promise. He had enough wallowing, and clearly those beyond had enough of his wallowing too. Tomorrow was enough time to begin life afresh. For now he would see if he could catch a couple of hours sleep before it got too late in the morning.
On his way to his room, his eyes locked on the dresser in the corner of the room, virtually untouched by the years it had stood their silently, waiting for him to open it, waiting for this day. He strode purposefully and defiantly to it and with a flick of his wand unlocked it. Opening the top drawer he pulled out three elegant silver frames embossed with gold swirls. For a moment he just stared sadly at them, a small smile gracing his lips. Before placing each on the mantle piece above the fire carefully. With one last fond glance at them, he strode away to sleep peacefully for the first time in years.
In the silent room, where the shadows flickered, if one was to gaze upon the mantle piece, one would see three new additions gracing it, each in a place of pride, the occupants waving merrily in the dim light.
The first frame consisted of Snape and Dearbháil on their wedding day. Both were smiling joyfully and Snape looked like a different man without his customary scowl or menacing air. There was no loathing or hate about him at all. This man was happy and he had all he could ever want, and more, right beside him. He twirled her around in his arms, gazing adoringly into each others eyes, totally engrossed in the other. It reminded one of new beginnings.
The next one featured a beaming Snape and Dearbháil, with a little girl in her arms and Snape content with his hand around his wife's shoulders. Clearly it was the happiest moment in the couple's lives.
The last one showed a beaming women with striking, fiery red hair and emerald eyes, shining like green jewels. Snape was looking adoringly at the small baby boy in her arms, with a tuft of messy hair atop his head and bright emerald eyes like his mother. Dearbháil also beamed at the mother and child with her own baby girl in her arms. One could tell that the boy was just slightly older than the little girl. The bond of friendship between the three adults shone, even from this mere photograph. In all it was the contentment evident in this family which drew the eye.
And so, these three pictures which hadn't seen the light of day for a very, very long time, now sat proudly on display, for all to see, the owner, not seeing the need to hide the painful memories any longer.
Glosha – old Irish for a small stream in the country