What our Parents Believed
I've been a bad, bad Duck. So long without updating ANY of my stories. sigh The worst of it is, this story is almost done… I've actually got the ending written. Now if only I could write a middle part… sigh, grin I'll have to sit myself down and force myself to write it… I actually do surprisingly good work that way. For all those who have given up any hope of an update… don't give up on me and Sara just yet.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. I especially don't own Snape, but we do hang out from time to time. We actually went BACK in time and smacked the living hell out of Earl Grey for making stupid tea. I'll have to post that story someday. Sara Michaels is an original character but NOT a Mary Sue and not a self insert. I, for one, have never been mistakenly put in a mental institution. Nope, they were quite right to lock me up.
Sara lay on her stomach on her temporary bed, her little feet kicking aimlessly in the air. It had been six days since her parents had left her in the castle, hugging and kissing her goodbye and telling her how proud they were of her and wasn't she glad that there was really nothing wrong with her? They had obviously been worried about leaving her alone here, which was funny. Her parents had had almost no problem leaving her alone in an institution for the insane. For her part, she wasn't the least bit scared or worried. The castle was fascinating; it sounded like something out of a fairy tale. Ghosts and a magical forest, moving staircases, elves (not the blond-haired, beautiful ones, but skinny little creatures with pointy ears and long noses), secret doors, passages and passwords... it was a new and exciting world for her.
Reaching behind her, she grabbed another yellow pillow and laid it under her thin body for comfort. Immensely curious about her new home, she had started reading this book she had found in the library called "Hogwarts, a History". Sara had never been in the Great Hall, but was looking forward to seeing this ceiling she had read about. Her days were spent wandering the hallways and reading her new magic books. One day, she had even gone to the wizarding place called Diagon Alley with Hagrid (whom she instantly took a liking to) and picked up all sorts of wonderful things. She especially liked her wand; six and three-quarters inches, willow with a unicorn-tail core. She had found it, or rather, it had found her, after only three tries. She had it propped beside her books, which lay in a precarious tower on her bed. Well, maybe hers. The bed was in the Hufflepuff dormitory, and Sara was told that there was no guarantee that she'd be coming back here after the sorting.
Just as she was turning the page, two sharp knocks sounded against the door. "Miss Michaels, may I have a word with you?" A familiar voice asked. Sara sat up and smiled. "Severus! Come in," she chirped.
The door opened, and the potions master stepped cautiously into the room. He looked distinctly uncomfortable in the room, and Sara thought she knew exactly why. Not only was this a dormitory for first-year girls, which would make any decent male teacher uncomfortable at the thought of being in here alone, this was also a Hufflepuff dormitory, and Severus was a Slytherin. From what she had read, Sara had gathered that the Slytherins had a certain amount of disdain for the Hufflepuffs... and for all other houses, for that matter. The girl could just imagine the teacher cringing at the thought of being ambushed by a dozen shrieking Hufflepuff girls, all hidden under the beds and waiting to pounce.
The man cleared his throat and tried to look less like a caged animal. "As you know, the beginning of term dinner starts at 8:30 tomorrow evening. You will be expected to wear your school robe to the dinner. As you may not be coming back to this dormitory, your belongings will be removed from the room and stored until we know in which house you are to be placed." Snape then moved across the room and sat down on the bed opposite her. "The Headmaster also asked that I prepare you for something. You see, traditionally, students take the Hogwarts express to the school, and then first years cross the lake on a boat. Since you are already here, you will be an exception to this tradition, and the students will quickly notice that you weren't on the boats with them..."
Sara had a knack for catching on quickly. "They'll be talking about me, then. Wondering who I am, why I wasn't there, why I'm so special, et cetera." Snape nodded curtly.
"Exactly. I suggest that you ignore whatever cock-and-bull theories your fellow students will come up with. Now, whether or not you want people to know your unique situation is entirely up to you. No student will hear it from any of the teachers. It is our hope that you will be able to integrate into life at Hogwarts, and we want you to feel confident with the knowledge that your secret is safe with all staff members."
"Thank you, Severus. That means a lot to me." Snape grimaced.
"Furthermore, I know that I said upon meeting you that you could call me Severus. It is an informality that I have never dreamed I would tolerate from a student. As such, in the future, I would ask that you call me Professor Snape." Sara lowered her head.
"All right. Sorry, Professor," she mumbled.
An alien feeling of anxiety took over Snape. "No, please understand that I'm not angry with you. You did what I asked you to, there is nothing wrong with that. It's merely that, with school starting, it would be inappropriate for you to call me by my given name. And it is something that I certainly don't want to encourage amongst other students." He paused and regarded the child through a few wisps of his black hair. Had it been a mistake to be so informal with her in the beginning? Would it make the girl's integration more difficult if he, her first contact with the wizarding world, started putting such distance between them? And, perhaps the most important question of all, why did Severus even care? For all he knew, the girl was going to end up in Gryffindor and be horrible at potions. God, Dumbledore had sent the wrong person!
The young witch shifted on her bed, bringing her bony knees up to her tiny chest. The movement caused her pile of books to slip and slide precariously close to the edge of the bed. Snape barely had time to register the girl's look of dismay before his arm shot out and steadied the texts.
"Sorry," she said softly, blushing. "Thanks." Her head was lowered as she hurriedly rearranged her books in a neat stack.
"Don't worry," he said absent-mindedly. It still bothered him how he seemed to care about making sure this child felt accepted. By God, was he actually trying to be nice to a student? He was slipping in his old age.
He stood up quickly, feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the whole situation. The child would be in for a rude shock when he started acting like his usual self around her. Better that she slowly get accustomed to it now. He nodded curtly and swiftly turned to leave. Snape had almost reached the door when he felt an unfamiliar pang of… what exactly? He felt sorry for the girl, to be sure, but more than that, he felt responsible for her… in a way he had never before felt for a student. Sighing, he turned to face her.
"I'm not accustomed to explaining myself to students, but I find myself obligated to make an exception in your case." He paused, searching for the right words. "I am not generally seen as a 'nice' person, as you will come to learn from your classmates. In fact, I shall probably give you ample reason to join them in their incessant whining about me. What you have seen these past few days is not typical behaviour for me, and it will not continue once classes start. Understand that I expect hard work and discipline from all of my students, without exception. It is nothing against you personally, nor will it ever be. That is… merely the way I am."
He turned away abruptly, unwilling to look at the girl's face. His explanation, though perhaps harsh, was truthful, and necessary in her case. "I understand." Severus left the room, never seeing the small smile on Sara's face.
"Thank you. I know they'd never accept me if you treated me differently," she said to the empty room.
Sara quickly discovered that Professor Snape had been right when he said that her arriving at the school before everyone else would be the cause of confusion and speculation amongst her peers. The young girl had been pacing restlessly in her room hours before her classmates were scheduled to meet for the Sorting. Having already packed her meagre belongings to move to a new house dormitory, dressed in her robes and leafed anxiously through her magic books, she found herself with nothing more to do but wait and agonize. After what had seemed like an eternity, Professor McGonagall had finally entered the dormitory and announced that Miss Michaels could proceed to the waiting room to the Great Hall in order to meet her fellow first years. Sara had arrived at almost the same time as the others, but despite this and despite the shared feeling of anxiety and nervousness, a few people had noticed the odd fashion of Sara's arrival.
A few people glanced askance at her, then looked at their new friends and shared muffled whispers behind cupped hands. So it starts, the girl thought grimly. She hoped that it would be nothing, that people would eventually forget about this and she could lead as normal a life as possible in this place. The last thing she needed was for people to get too curious and, heaven forbid, discover even a tiny bit of the truth about her past. It was humiliating for the young girl to recall her past and would be horrible beyond imagination if word got out to the rest of the school. People would be afraid, she knew, or cruel. Or even worse, they would try to be sympathetic when they had no idea what it was like to be her. Then they would start asking her questions that she wouldn't be able to answer and make her defensive and doubtful. The young girl was having a hard enough time accepting that what was happening to her was real and justifying everything she saw to herself, but if people started confusing her and making her doubt... the consequences could be unbearable.
Be optimistic, Sara told herself. That's what her parents had said for years, what doctors had been telling her family, what she heard all the time in the hospital which had been her home for so long. Be optimistic. With needles or pills, with treatment or psychotherapy or hypnosis or whatever, things can get better, people with these kinds of problems can lead relatively normal lives. Her problem truly being that she was a witch amongst Muggles who didn't understand her, and given that many witches and wizards seem to be able to lead relatively normal lives, there was no reason that Sara couldn't have what she longed for the most. To be with people who didn't think there was something very wrong with her. So Sara vowed that she would be optimistic. She would ignore the hurtful comments of others, she wouldn't worry about the whispers, she would work hard and make new friends who understood her and liked her. She would fit in here at Hogwarts, and later in the wizarding world, and she would be happy for once in her life. She could do this.
The first years continued to wait outside the Great Hall. As the time passed, the whispers lessened. Impatience and a queasy anxiousness had ensured that the other children had other things to worry about than how and why Sara had gotten to Hogwarts before anyone else. They were too busy asking themselves about what kind of test they would face and if they would embarrass themselves in front of the school. Although being able to spend more time at the school had made Sara feel very special, she now found herself wishing that she could have arrived on the train like everyone else, perhaps made some friends, and not been made to stand out on the very first day of the term. The young witch was feeling rather alone now, with no one to speak to and to worry with. She was anxious to get settled into her new house and to start making friends with her housemates.
After a few more agonizing minutes, the first years heard the murmur of voices in the Great Hall die down, only to be replaced by one loud, commanding voice. Though everyone in the small room strained their ears, the new arrivals could not hear what was being said. Suddenly, the door to the Great Hall swung open and Professor McGonagall stood in the door way.
"You will be invited to enter the Great Hall momentarily. When you walk in, form a straight line, single file, facing the rest of the students. When I call your name, you shall be seated on a stool near me and shall be sorted. Once your house name is called - either Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Slytherin - you shall sit at your house table with the rest of your classmates. Remember that your house is just that - a home with friends and family. You help each other with your successes and good behaviour; you hurt your house with failure and rule-breaking." She glanced quickly into the room behind her. "Follow me now, please."
The older witch strode in front of the audience with the confidence that came with years of practice, while the first-years shuffled uncertainly behind her. They stood silently, nervously, as the first of the names were called. Aanderson, Carson, was the first name called. A smallish dark-haired boy with pale skin was the first to take his place on the stool. An ancient hat, which had been carted out shortly after the first-year's arrival into the Great Hall, had been placed on the boy's head. After a few moments, the hat called out "Ravenclaw". Adams, Belinda was called next. Time passed, nervous children were sorted by the hat and had made their way down to the tables to join their housemates.
Though Sara had read about inter-house rivalry in "Hogwarts': A History", she had no idea that she would be witnessing it first-hand so quickly. The students were all very welcoming of their own house-mates, but had different reactions whenever a first-year was chosen for a different house. Hufflepuffs were generally sneered at and got less applause than anyone else, some students rolled their eyes at new Ravenclaws, but the rivalry seemed to be the worst between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Students at the Gryffindor table whispered to themselves with mean looks on their faces when a new Slytherin was announced. The Slytherins themselves actually booed and hissed on occasion whenever a new witch or wizard joined the Gryffindor table.
Distracted as she was by observing the body of students intently watching the Sorting Ceremony, Sara almost missed when Professor McGonagall finally called out, "Michaels, Sara."
The young girl had been nervous all day and, therefore, had not eaten a thing. She was very glad for this. At this moment, Sara was so overwhelmed with anxiety and nervousness that, had she eaten earlier, it may have ended up all over the floor in front of her. Butterflies weren't just fluttering in her stomach, they we engaged in full-fledged battle. Though Sara knew the general characteristics inherent to the four houses – bravery, loyalty, intelligence and cunning – and didn't believe that she had any of these qualities. In which of the four houses did she really belong? Sara had no idea.
Blood rushed in her ears, drowning out the mummers of the curious crowd. Time seemed to slow as she made one agonizing step after another towards the chair where she was to be sorted. Time enough to consider turning around and running out of the room, then to decide against it. She finally arrived at the chair, sat down and had the hat placed on her head.
And let's see what we have here… Oh my, said the hat. It remained quiet for a few moments, and then started muttering. Oh my indeed. I've never seen anything quite like this before. But no matter. Now where to put you? Sara closed her eyes, waiting for the voice to go away. Not good, not good at all. This was insane, she was insane. What was she thinking? Witches and wizards, ghosts, hats that spoke inside your head. Total insanity. Sara Michaels had well and truly lost it. She sat for a few moments, paralyzed with disbelief. Oh, don't fret, child. Don't fret, the hat consoled her. Odd, I know, but don't worry, it is perfectly normal for us. There are more things to the world than what Muggles are aware of. Yes, so many more wonderful things. And for you, they begin here. We'll find out where to put you, get you truly settled in, and then you'll see that everything is all right.
The voice was smooth and relaxing. It held the certainty of centuries of wisdom and knowledge. Sara found herself daring to believe the voice of the hat, daring to believe that she was fine, that this could become normal, and that life would turn out alright in the end.
Not very learned, but you do still possess the quality of intelligence. Very good at figuring people out, I see. Not a terrible amount of loyalty, but there's nothing wrong with that. After all, you've never been given the chance to develop that trait. Perhaps you can still. Untrusting, understandably. Brave in your own right, after what you've been through. But, my dear, I'm mostly stuck on how you deal with people. You understand them to a degree, not how to socialize, but how to get inside their heads, in a manner of speaking. You catch on very quickly to what they want to see or hear, use that to your advantage. An interesting quality, to say the least. It could go either way for you. Given all this, I think you would fare rather well in…
"SLYTHERIN!" The hat cried. A loud cheer burst from the table to Sara's far right. The new Slytherin felt mildly woozy as the blood rushed from her face and started going on its normal path through her body. She smiled proudly, handed the hat to Professor McGonagall and made her way down to her house table. As she made her way to meet her house-mates, she noticed a red-headed boy at the Gryffindor table lean over and say to his friend, "Just what we need. Another snake at Hogwarts'."
"Ron!" a bushy-haired girl beside him hissed. "That's not at all appropriate!"
"But it's true!" he countered. The brown-haired boy with glasses, who was seated across from them, laughed. Sara looked away quickly and stumbled towards her table. Why were they laughing at her? What had she done wrong? She understood that Gryffindors and Slytherins usually didn't get along, but would a whole quarter of the school automatically hate her because of the house the hat had decided to place her in? It wasn't fair. This couldn't be right. Despite this horrible feeling, she still managed to look happy and enthusiastic while her new house-mates smiled at her and welcomed her to the table. Shortly afterwards, when the sorting was finished, a marvellous array of the most delicious-looking food Sara had ever seen had magically appeared on the table in front of her. Though she hadn't eaten anything earlier that day, she just didn't have an appetite.
Author's Note: Hm… I wonder if I'm going to get flames about how I made Harry and Ron be mean. Gentle readers, please remember, that they are just kids. Of COURSE most Gryffindors are not going to welcome a new Slytherin with open arms. Harry and Ron least of all, considering their deep animosity with some of the members of Slytherin. While their comment did seem to be cruel, let me point out that Sara was feeling very nervous and out of sorts at that moment. Sara takes a comment that is directed towards Slytherins in general and falls under the mistaken impression that it was directed towards her personally. I know I've done the exact same thing before. So, the boys aren't so much mean as seriously lacking in tact.