Elizabeth Rose Evans had a new resolve. Who cared what everyone in her House thought? She'd move permanently down into the dungeons. Switch houses if she had to. At least the Slytherins would believe that Voldemort was back, even if it wasn't with the same dread that she felt.
With purpose, she jammed her feet into her shoes, the ones she'd forgotten to tell Remus were too small when they'd made their summer shopping trip, and snatched her bag off the floor, pressing her lips together like her father did when he was displeased.
"I'll walk with you to breakfast," Severus said when she appeared in the living room, straightening his robes.
"I'm going to the library," Elizabeth shook her head.
Severus debated for a moment, but finally nodded. "Here," he waved his wand and handed her the banana that appeared. "Eat."
"I will," Elizabeth shoved the fruit into her bag. "I'll see you later."
"Alright," Severus nodded once. "I'll see you at lunch then."
"Maybe," Elizabeth gave him a strained smile and went out of the portrait.
Severus sighed, and leaned against the kitchen counter. What a disastrous year. And it was only the second day.
Shaking his head, he picked up the pile of papers on his desk, first-year final essays from the year before that he planned to use to torture the new second-years, before walking through the portrait to his office.
Meanwhile, out in the hall, Elizabeth walked purposefully toward the library. Breakfast with the Gryffindors was hardly worth the aggravation.
"Hey, Betsy," she nearly ran into Fred as he came around the corner. "You know you're going the wrong way?"
"Not for the library."
"But breakfast is that way," Fred pointed back toward the Great Hall.
"Have it covered," Elizabeth pulled the banana out of her bag.
"I see," Fred raised an eyebrow. "Alright, come on then." He put his arm around her shoulders and started to walk with her toward the library.
"Where are you going?" Elizabeth looked up at him.
"Well, I can't let you eat in the library alone, not only because you aren't allowed to eat in the library, but because eating alone is lame."
"You'll get in trouble."
"Doubtful, little Snape," Fred grinned. "I," he assumed a regal air, "am a seventh year at this institution, not to mention of age. So," he leaned down conspiratorially, "you eat and study or whatever, and I'll work on phase 1 of WWW marketing." He held up a drawstring bag. "I have volunteers to organize and charts to make. It wouldn't do to confuse the tester for Fainting Fancies with the tester for Puking Pastilles, would it?"
Elizabeth laughed. "I suppose not."
*S*S*
"Your brothers cannot sell that rubbish," Hermione hissed on their way to Charms.
"Would you really write to Mum?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "I think that might be breaking some kind of brother-code."
"I'm not their brother," Hermione frowned. "Probably why Fred wasn't at breakfast. Do you know where he was, Elizabeth?" She looked at the other girl.
"No idea," Elizabeth shrugged. "I was in the library."
"Well he wasn't there," Hermione said assuredly, leading the way into the classroom. "You've been gone a lot lately," she looked at Elizabeth. "You aren't sleeping in the dorm."
Elizabeth shrugged. "I had Dad's detention last night, so I just stayed. And tonight I have Umbridge's so we'll see."
"What do you think she'll make you do?" Ron tossed his bag beside his chair. "Fluff her sweaters?"
"Kill puppies?" Hermione suggested, sitting down and pulling out her book.
Elizabeth snorted. "Maybe."
*S*S*
"Good evening, Miss Evans."
Elizabeth started and looked around. She had not noticed the professor at first because she was wearing flowered robes that blended in with the tablecloth on the desk. The effect was such that Umbridge looked like she was growing out of the table.
"Evening," Elizabeth said stiffly.
"Well, sit down," Umbridge said, pointing toward a small table draped in lace and a straight-backed chair. A piece of blank parchment lay on the table.
"Yes, ma'am," Elizabeth nodded. "But, before we start? Could I ask… a favor?"
"Yes?" Umbridge looked at her, unkind eyes drilling into Elizabeth's.
"Well I'm on the Gryffindor Quiddich team. And I'm supposed to be at the tryouts for the new Keeper on Friday, so I was wondering… could I skip detention and do it… another night?"
The eyes went colder, as the smile below grew into a larger, crueler sneer. "Oh no," Umbridge purred. "Oh no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Miss Evans, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to suit your convenience. Perhaps missing something you actually want to do will reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach you."
Elizabeth bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. Evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories? With massive effort, Elizabeth dropped her schoolbag beside the chair and sat down.
"There," Umbridge simpered, "we're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? You may get away with that kind of behavior at home, Miss Evans, but in the real world, you must realize that not everyone needs to hear your voice. Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me." She handed Elizabeth a long thin quill with an unusually sharp point.
"I want you to write, 'I must not tell lies'," she said softly.
"How many times?" Elizabeth forced her voice into a sickening level of politeness.
"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in," Umbridge smiled sweetly. "Off you go."
Elizabeth raised the sharp black quill and then realized what was missing. "You haven't given me any ink," she said.
"Oh, you won't need ink," Umbridge smiled, a hint of laughter in her voice.
Elizabeth placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote: I must not tell lies.
She let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back on her hand, cut into her skin as though traced there by a scalpel. But as she watched, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth.
Elizabeth looked at Umbridge. The pink-flowered professor was watching her.
"Yes?" The woman's face stretched into a smile.
"Nothing," Elizabeth said quietly.
She looked back at the parchment, placed the quill upon it once more, wrote I must tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of her hand for a second time; once again the words had been cut into her skin, once again they healed over seconds later.
And on it went. Again and again Elizabeth wrote the words on the parchment in what she soon came to realize was not ink, but her own blood. And again and again the words were cut into the back of her hand, healed, and then reappeared the next time she set quill to parchment.
Darkness fell outside the window. Elizabeth didn't ask when she would be allowed to stop. She didn't check her watch. She continued to write in a silent protest. She would not show weakness. She would not break. She would sit there all night, cutting open her own hand with this quill, but she would never succumb to Umbridge's torture.
"Come here," Umbridge said, after what seemed like hours.
She stood up, dragging her way over to the desk, where Umbridge snapped up her hand. "Tut, tut, I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet," the evil pink muffin smiled. "Well, we'll jut have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? You may go."
Elizabeth left her office without a word. The school was quite deserted; it was surely past midnight. She walked slowly up the corridor then, when she had turned the corner and was sure that she would not be heard, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.
"She kept you late," Severus said, as she came through the door.
"Yeah," Elizabeth said, pulling off her robes and balling them up in her hands to hide the evidence of her detention. "I didn't know she'd keep me that long, I swear."
Severus nodded, crossing the room and putting his hands on her shoulders. "Are you okay?" He searched her face.
"Yeah," Elizabeth said, managing a smile. "Just tired. Can we maybe do my detention during my free period tomorrow? I don't think I can do anything with my mind right now."
"It can wait," Severus said, not at all convinced that the only thing he saw in his child's eyes was fatigue. "You have three more days of detention with her. We'll work out the rest this weekend."
"Really?" Elizabeth asked, surprised. Usually Severus shared Umbridge's opinion of rescheduling detentions.
"You're of no use to the Occulmency world in this state," Severus said, taking her robe from her. "And I can't imagine it's going to get better over the next few days."
Elizabeth shoved her hands in her pockets. "Thanks."
Severus nodded. "Of course." He wanted to ask her again if she was alright, but he knew from experience that it wouldn't elicit any new information. "You need to go to bed," he said, putting his arms around her. "We'll eat breakfast here in the morning. You can sleep a little late."
*S*S*
Friday, the words had set into bloody, raw letters that Elizabeth knew she couldn't hide. Stumbling from Umbridge's office, well after midnight again, she slid down the wall that she'd leaned on previously and considered her options. Severus was already suspicious of how worn-out she was after her detentions. He'd become more insistent in his questioning over the last few nights, and it was all she could do to hide her hands without being too obvious.
She had a sense of shame over the punishment. It was like the Dursleys all over again. She was letting this woman hurt her. The difference was that Umbridge was so powerful. There was no way out.
She couldn't go to the dungeons, and the thought of waking up with Lavender and the others made her stomach turn. She had nowhere to go.
Except.
Cradling her hand, she headed toward the tower. The Fat Lady humpfhed at being wakened so late. Again.
"I was in detention," Elizabeth growled. "Do you think I like hanging out until all hours?"
"Wouldn't be the first time," the Fat Lady muttered as she swung open to let Elizabeth through. "Should tell your mother on you."
"Shut up," Elizabeth mumbled, making her way into the empty common room, then up the stairs to the Seventh Year boys' dormitory.
The room was dark, but she couldn't risk using her wand for light. Instead she crept to Fred's bedside and let herself in through the curtains before casting a quick silencing charm, followed by a lumos.
"Hey," Fred sat up; casting lumos himself, tense until he recognized who was on his bed. "Merlin, Betsy. You're alright?"
"Yeah," Elizabeth shrugged. "I… can I stay here tonight?"
"You are trying to get me killed," Fred sighed, pulling the blankets back. "You're going to sleep in your uniform?"
Elizabeth shook her head and pulled off her robe, dropping it on the floor, revealing her pajamas. "After three nights of Umbridge detentions, I learned."
"Smart thinking, Evans." Fred laid back down, pulling the blankets over her as she curled into his side. He set his lighted wand on his stomach as she extinguished her own. "Give me that," he held out his hand and she handed him her wand, which he set on the bedside table. "Now," he kissed her forehead, "not that I don't love having you in my bed in the middle of the night, but what's going on?"
"Late. Tired," Elizabeth shrugged, closing her eyes and snaking her arm across his chest.
"Wait," Fred grasped her wrist. "What is wrong with your hand?"
"Nothing," Elizabeth tried to pull away, but he was already sitting up, holding his wand closer.
"What the hell?"
"Fred, it's okay."
"What happened?"
Elizabeth shrugged.
"Elizabeth," Fred looked straight at her.
"Umbridge," Elizabeth said quietly. "She has a quill that cuts into your hand when you write."
"She used it on you?" Fred's eyes flashed. "Tonight?"
"This week," Elizabeth said, even softer. "It's okay now."
"You're bleeding," Fred shook his head. "You have to go to the hospital wing."
"No," Elizabeth shook her head. "I can't. I have to keep my head down and deal with it, or there will be even more trouble."
Fred frowned. "Wait here."
"Where are you going?" Elizabeth started to follow him off the bed, but he shook his head.
"I'll be right back. Stay here."
Elizabeth sat against the headboard, wondering exactly what would happen if a fire broke out at that exact moment. Staying in bed and burning to death certainly felt like the best option. She'd not really thought this "in-my-boyfriend's-bed" thing through.
"Here," Fred reappeared within minutes, holding a variable medi-station in his hands. "Let me see it." Carefully, he rubbed what Elizabeth recognized as disinfectant potion on the cuts, and wrapped strips of clean white cotton around her hand. "They're magic cuts," he said softly. "Not likely to heal with a potion. She really wanted you to hurt," he set the extra supplies on the bedside table.
"I can't wear that to class," Elizabeth protested.
"You'll wear it tonight," Fred ordered. "My bed, my rules, Evans."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Just don't tell anyone, alright? Not even my dad. Promise?"
"I'll think about it," Fred shrugged. "No promises. And if that thing is infected in the morning, I'm telling my mother, and then all hell really will break loose." He laid back and slid under the blankets, pulling her back to him.
Elizabeth sighed, but laid her head on his shoulder, replacing her hurt hand on his chest, and fell into a relatively peaceful sleep, keeping the throbbing of her scar a secret.
*S*S*
"No." Severus said simply, not even looking up from the parchment on his desk.
"But Dad—
"No." Severus repeated, his voice almost amused.
"Okay, but if you just listen—
"Elizabeth. Child of mine. Light of my life." Severus smirked a little. "No."
"Dad, I'm on the Quidditch Team."
"Yes you are," Severus nodded.
"And everyone is going—
"On an unsupervised jaunt."
"— on a retreat." Elizabeth clairified. "To get to know our new Keeper better."
"Hatchling, how many Quidditch players are currently on the Gryffindor team?"
"Seven. Plus a back up."
"So eight." Severus nodded. "One of those players is Ronald Weasley, and therefore has little need to meet himself. That leaves seven players." He drummed his fingers on the desk. "Tell me. How many of the players are directly related to Mr. Weasley?"
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Two."
"And how many players are not only close friends with Mr. Weasley but date his brother?"
"One," Elizabeth sighed. "But Dad—
Severus held up a hand. "If the remaining four players want to accompany Mr. Weasley on a ridiculous, unchaperoned outing, then they may do so." He looked thoughtful. "Clearly, your grandmother has lost all judgment, and I should look into assisted living facilities into which to place her. Unless," he looked at Elizabeth, "Your grandmother is unaware of this nonsense." He examined her guilty face. "Elizabeth Evans, did you ask my permission to go on a secret, adult-less, trip?" He looked at her for another moment before putting one elbow on the desk, laying his forehead in his hand, and laughing; harder than he had in a long time.
Elizabeth watched for a moment. "Dad?"
"Yes?" Severus raised his head, still chuckling.
"You're in a good mood."
"Is that a question?" Severus leaned back in his chair.
"You just aren't… usually." Elizabeth went over and pulled herself up to sit on his desk.
"It's been a very unannoying day," Severus set his quill in the holder. "You, however, look concerned."
"Fred got an letter from Percy," she said, pulling it out of her bag and handing it to him.
"And he gave that letter to you?" Severus took the parchment.
"Well, not exactly," Elizabeth grimaced. "It was in a book I burrowed." Or in his bedside table, she thought.
"And so you committed post fraud?" Severus raised an eyebrow.
"I don't think that's what it's called," Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Read it."
"Hmm," Severus, against his better judgment, shook the parchment out with one hand and then examined it. "Why is it ripped down the middle?"
"I dunno," Elizabeth shrugged.
"This is a poor mending job, Elizabeth Snape. I'm going to have to speak to your Charms teacher."
"Just read it," Elizabeth rolled her eyes.
Dear Fred,
I was writing to Ron to congratulate him on ignoring your horrendous example and securing the position of Hogwarts prefect. I was most pleasantly surprised to hear this news, and I only wish that you and George could stop flouting authority and decide to shoulder some real responsibility.
In that vein, I wanted to give you some advice, which is why I am sending this at night rather than by the usual morning post. Hopefully you will be able to read this away from prying eyes and avoid awkward questions.
From something the Minister let slip when telling me that Ron is now a prefect, I gather that you are still seeing Elizabeth Evans. I must tell you, as I told Ron, that nothing could put you in danger more than continued fraternization with that girl. It's bad enough that Ron is risking his badge by being friends with her, but I can only assume that you are doing more than 'being friends'.
Yes, I'm sure you are surprised to hear this— no doubt you will say that Evans has always been Dumbledore's favorite, and that she's related to just about everyone at Hogwarts— but I feel bound to tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge at Hogwarts much longer and the people who count have a very different, and probably more accurate, view of Evan's behavior. The jury is still out a bit on her father, you may want to avoid his presence as much as possible. If you look at the Prophet tomorrow, you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing.
Seriously, Fred, I know she's very pretty, but there are other girls out there. This one could be very damaging to your future prospects. Many people, including myself, are convinced that she is guilty of the crime for which the Wizengamot let her off (on a mere technicality, if you ask me).
It may be that you are afraid to sever ties with Evans, I've heard that she may be violent, but if you have any worries about this, I urge you to speak to Dolores Umbridge, who I know will be only too happy to advise you. Remember, your loyalty should be to the Ministry, not Dumbledore. Umbridge can help you with that.
I am sorry that I was unable to see more of you over the summer. It pains me to criticize our parents, but I am afraid I can no longer live under their roof while they remain mixed up with the dangerous crowd around Dumbledore. I count myself very lucky to have escaped the stigma of associating with such people and I do hope, Fred, that you will not allow family ties to blind you to the misguided nature of our parents' beliefs and actions either.
Please think over what I have said most carefully, particularly the bit about Elizabeth Evans. I'm sure we can find you a suitable girlfriend (or at least a witch for the weekend).
Your brother,
Percy
Severus refolded the letter, crisping the folds, and handed it back to her. "Put it back where you found it. Never think about it again. And reverse that charm."
"But the thing about Dumbledore—
"Elizabeth, we knew there was going to be trouble."
"He wants Fred to dump me!"
Severus snorted. "Hatchling, did it occur to you that the reason you found this letter torn in two is that Mr. Weasley rejected that notion?" He smirked. "Not that I would cry if that happened, mind you."
Elizabeth shoved the letter in her bag and crossed her arms. "I'm going to kill Percy."
"Let it go." Severus said firmly. "The boy has been drinking from the Ministry water fountain too long. Fred, Merlin help me, loves you. Your real friends are not going to leave you. Besides," he raised an eyebrow, "anyone who approves of Umbridge has obviously gone round the bend."
The floo roared to life, and Remus stepped through. "What's new, everyone?"
"We're listing Umbridge's short comings," Severus said, standing and shooing his daughter off the desk. "Care to help? I'm making tea."
"Well," Remus sat on the sofa and stretched out his legs. "She was instrumental in passing that anti-werewolf legislation a couple years ago."
"What's she got against werewolves?" Elizabeth dropped down beside him, sitting cross-legged.
"Afraid of us, would be my guess," Remus growled and pretended to pounce on her. "I could rip her to shreds, you know."
"Could you?" Elizabeth grinned.
"No," Severus said firmly, setting tea on the table. "What's on your hand?"
Elizabeth started. "Nothing," she said quickly, picking up a teacup.
"Elizabeth." Severus reached across the table. "Let me see your hand."
"It's nothing," Elizabeth shook her head.
"Now." Severus beckoned impatiently.
Elizabeth grimaced and looked at Remus. "Tell him not to overreact."
"About what?" Remus frowned.
She gave him her hand and he examined the scars. "What did you get sliced up on?" Lupin asked.
"Poppy didn't tell me you were cut," Severus sat on the table and took her hand, his grip tightening as a looked of realization crossed his face. "'I must not tell lies,'" he said quietly. "The damn woman used a blood quill." He stood. "I'm going to kill her."
"Pertificus Totalus," Remus snapped, binding the professor before lowering the prostrate body to lean onto the sofa. "Now, I can kill her," he said, crossing his arms.
"Moony, please," Elizabeth shook her head. "It's not that bad. Fred cleaned it out and wrapped it up."
"How many times?" Remus asked, scowling.
"Just the once, before it healed on its own."
"I meant how many times did she cut into your hand with a dark magic object?"
"Every detention," Elizabeth said quietly.
Remus gritted his teeth. "I only did that," he pointed to Severus, "to avoid turning you into an orphan again. It does not mean that I won't kill her myself. And it certainly doesn't mean that I will do it in the future." His frown deepened. "And just because I'm furious with that asinine woman, doesn't mean I can't deliver one hell of a lecture about protecting yourself which, I'm sure, your father will be sure to echo once I unfreeze him."
"I'm supposed to keep my head down!"
"Merlin, Elizabeth!" Remus growled. "She was cutting into you! I could understand once. You were afraid; you weren't sure what to do. But why would you go back? Why didn't you come down here and tell your father the very minute you could get free of that woman?"
"Leave me alone," Elizabeth shouted in frustration, stomping toward her bedroom.
"Elizabeth Rose Evans, you come here this minute," Remus ordered, but his only answer was a slamming door.
Remus cursed under his breath and commenced pacing. "Severus Snape, I'm going to release you now, and then you and I are going to go make that woman disappear." He waved his wand, and Severus' body melted from its solid state and slid to the floor.
"I'm going to kill you first," he muttered, pulling himself up. "I'm not an idiot, Lupin. I know I can't go in killing her. I can't even complain, or she'll have my child taken away again. So," he folded his arms across his chest, "I'm going to check on my daughter, and then we are going to come up with a plan that will rid the world of Dolores Umbridge." He turned on his heel and strode over to her bedroom door, knocking before pushing it open.
Elizabeth was sprawled on her back on the bed, staring angrily at the ceiling.
"Allow me to translate for your godfather," Severus sat beside her on the bed. "I think what he meant to say was, 'Merlin, Elizabeth, I hate that someone hurt you. I'm sorry you found yourself in a position that you couldn't escape. I wish I had been there to help.'" He brushed the hair off her forehead. "Let me see your hand, please."
Wordlessly she held up her hand and he took it, examining the scars. "I want to make something clear," he said calmly, pressing her hand between his as if he could warm the lines away. "There is revenge and there is retaliation. You retaliate when someone wrongs you by providing a proportional response. Revenge is when you let your emotions carry you so that you can lash out against that person with a completely disproportionate response." He looked at her hand again. "Revenge is not logical or rational. It is not what Slytherins do." He smiled a little. "That's why I have a Lion in the other room to help me."