Hey all! What up!

We're not gonna reveal who the HELL that Slytherin traitor is, though I think its PRE-TTY obvious. It will be revealed later, but all your guesses were correct so yeah…

Ron: Who?

Me: Ron, you're so clueless…no offense!

Ron: OFFENSE TAKEN.

Me: Congrats. Disclaimer.

Ron: I'm not doing anything for you until you apologize?

Me: But it's true, isn't it? Besides, I can make you say the disclaimer anyways.

Severus: It's true, Weasley. I myself suffered such consequences. This lady is not a person to cross.

Ron: …Nicoisawesome doesn't own.

Me: THANKS. BYE NOW-

As soon as I turned the corner, I leaned against the wall and suppressed a groan of pain.

WHY did I have to punch him?

WHY did he have to punch me?

WHY was I the one in pain?

I shook my right hand, hissing in pain. Gently I formed a fist and examined my hand. The knuckles were swelling purple-red, throbbing.

Ow….

I'm back-ow! Tom let out a hiss of pain and clutched his right hand. What the bloody hell did you do?! I leave for a few minutes and you come back with two fresh injuries? WHY ARE YOUR KNUCKLES SWELLING?

Um…no reason. I cradled my hand and tried to uncurl my currently-claw-like hand. White hot pain shot through my finger bones. "Ow!" I exclaimed. "Why is this happening to me?!"

I thought about going to Pomfrey. I wouldn't be able to eat anyways. Or write, since I was a righty.

Tom glared at me. Why did you punch someone?

Um…long story. I dusted myself off, deliberately casual, and made my way to the Infirmary.

Mm. Obviously.

I licked my split, lower bottom lip. It was still bleeding. Sucking on my lip in hopes to stop the bleeding, I ventured a soft poke at my hand.

"Ow!" Okay, not better. With my other hand, the UNINJURED one, I pushed open the Infirmary door, where Pomfrey hustled over, bristling as she saw me.

"Didn't I just help you with your head?" She shook her head and gestured for me to sit down on a bed. "Foolish child."

I feel like a five year-old again.

Pomfrey frowned and examined my face. "You have a split lip. How did that happen?" Then she waved her wand and my lip healed.

"Quite odd," Pomfrey remarked dryly, flicking her wand across my knuckles. "Mr. Flint came in a few moments before with a bruised cheek. Do you know anything about how that happened, and this?" She pointed to my knuckles.

I kept a straight face. "Poor Marcus. I don't know, maybe he got into a fight? I accidentally hit my hand against the stair banisters as it started moving."

Pomfrey sighed and muttered something about clumsy children and "Albus's" obliviousness to the dangers of something something.

You really should be more careful. What provoked you to punch anyways?

Shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-shut-up-

HHHHHHHPPPPPPPPPOOOOOOOOO

I had decided to skip going to the Great Hall, and just head back to the happy kingdom of butterflies, aka Dad's office.

With a nervous shove that pushed Tom out of my head, I opened the door. Dad was grading papers. Like always. But when I opened the door, he turned around and raised an eyebrow.

"So."

3rd POV

Severus had never seen Cecelia look so nervous before. She was fidgeting-well, she was always fidgeting, but this was more than ever-and swallowing really hard.

Good, Severus thought. At least she had a sense of regret when she sees it, unlike Potter and his group of friends who refuse to apologize. So it had been less than a day. But the Golden Boy should have fled to him and groveled for his forgiveness the moment he had been released from the Infirmary.

He raised an eyebrow at his daughter in front of her. It was always better to start off with silence, since it normally prompted people to think over their faults and apologize. Severus remembered when Albus or Minerva had used the tactic at him, and growled in irritation.

Cecelia probably thought the growl was directed at her, because she shifted awkwardly and hastily said, "I am sorry, you know."

"I can assure you, I do not know." Severus snapped back. The girl flicked her eyes down and fumbled with her hands apologetically. "You will need to be more specific." Hmf. As a Slytherin, she shouldn't need to be prompted.

"Right," Cecelia said quickly, and nibbled her lip. "I-uh-I'm sorry for…hexing you." She couldn't help saying, rebelliously, "But you were really being unreasonable. I mean, I shouldn't have hexed you, but you wouldn't listen, and Sirius was really innocent-er, are you okay?"

Severus had choked when she had mentioned Black's first name. He quickly covered it up with an exasperated glare. "I am fine. Still, you shouldn't have hexed me, the only person who even knew how to deal with Lupin-"

"But Sirius handled it pretty well until Pettigrew got away!" Cecelia protested.

With another low growl, Severus leaned forward. "Do. Not. Interrupt."

"Right." Cecelia gulped. "Got it. Sorry. Sir." She added.

Oh, now you remember to call me "sir". Severus rolled his eyes and with his hand, tipped Cecelia's chin up. To see those eyes, his eyes, full of regret and genuine apology, Severus couldn't help himself.

"You could have been hurt, or even killed. That head injury could have resulted in a concussion." Severus let go of her chin, and she dropped her gaze again. "Look at me."

Small watery eyes peeked up from under eyelashes, and Severus sighed. "Come here." Curse himself! Had he, Severus Snape, feared Potions Master of Hogwarts, the man that made bulky grown men cry, just prompted a hug? Curse those parental books Minerva had sent him!

Cecelia moved forward-willingly!-and wrapped her arms around her father, burying her head into his middle. She hadn't had the time to think about how scared she'd been, and after the fiasco with the Slytherins, she couldn't help letting out a quick, almost unnoticeable choked sob.

"Alright, alright," Severus hastily patted her back and grabbed her hands from his back. He felt something-what?-and pulled her right hand out to examine it. It was wrapped in bandages, particularly thick at the knuckles.

Cecelia bit her lip and forced herself to look super casual. Her dad didn't look really happy, and all funny remarks vanished from her mind as soon as she opened the door.

"What's this?" Severus demanded. From the looks of it, she had punched someone. Flashbacks, well, flashed across his mind, and the thought that his own daughter had been picking on people repulsed him.

What am I going to tell him? Cecelia knew she wasn't prepared for a lie, since the fact that he had seen her hand caught her off guard too much. She shrugged. Why lie? "A couple of people were being mean to me so I punched them." At her dad's thunderous expression, she added, "too."

"WHAT?"

Cecelia winced. Okay, not a good idea. TIME TO CHANGE THE TOPIC. "Um, normally I would try to avoid this but I'm pretty sure it wouldn't do any good, so…I'm grounded for life, aren't I?"

"Yes," Severus declared. "You will be writing lines for me-perhaps 400 lines of 'I will not put myself in danger' and 100 of 'I will not hex my-'" Severus could not quite get used to the word-"'father'. You will be going to bed at 8 everyday-" he ignored Cecelia's frown deepening. Severus eyed the urchin and finally said, "And you may not allow your friends to come over for two weeks."

Two weeks. That means-that means-once two weeks is over, I'm allowed to invite-Cecelia bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. She settled for a quick beam and nodded. "Okay," She replied, unable to keep the happy, cheerful note from her tone to show. "See you later."

Severus was bewildered. Merlin; he had just implied that she could invite blasted Potter and his friends over!

HHHHHPPPPPOOOOO

Celia's POV

You're an idiot.

That's coming from you.

Oi! I'm in Slytherin; cunning, remember?

The old Sorting Hat obviously made a mistake.

The door opened. I looked up from my iPod, which I was currently trying to fix. It was Dad.

"Weasley says he needs to talk to you urgently," he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

I frowned and got up. "Okay…"

Outside in the hall, Ron was standing awkwardly, against the wall.

"Hey, Ron." I greeted him slowly. "What's up?"

Ron didn't look at me, and simply rubbed his neck in embarrassment. "Well…in the beginning of the school year I was kind of a git to you…and I just wanted to say sorry…it's okay if you don't forgive me-" he added quickly.

I stared at him for a moment. Is he bloody serious? "Are you bloody serious?"

Obviously.

Ron winced. "Look, I-"

Before he could finish his sentence, I rolled my eyes and hugged him. When I pulled away, I said, "Thank you for not patting my head like you did to Hermione." Tom snickered and coughed something that sounded suspiciously like, "dog."

"Ron, you are such an idiot." I grinned. "If I had really been mad, you would have found spiders in your bedsheets-" I started counting with my fingers-", all your homework glued together with a super strong Sticking Charm, and love potions in your food directed at Filch." (AN: LOL!) As I spoke, Ron feebly paled.

Moment of silence as Ron tries to find his manliness.

"You-you really are a Slytherin," Ron gasped. "Filch." He moaned. "I almost got a love potion that would make me want to have an affair with Filch."

I laughed. "I'd take pictures, too, and send them to your mom. C'mon, Ron, you really thought I'd still be mad? I couldn't hold a grudge if it depended on my life!"

"So-friends?" Ron asked hopefully.

I smiled. "Well, seeing as we've been hanging out the entire year…I'd say besties…"

"Alright then," Ron grinned, then his smiled faded a little. "But-er-if I happen to get you upset again, don't put the love potion in my food, okay? Or spiders. In my bed. Or food. Or anywhere." He added. I raised my eyebrows and gave him a mischievous look.

"We'll see." I shrugged. Looking back at the closed door behind me, I jerked a thumb back. "I better go, I'm being grounded 'till I'm eighty five."

Ron's eyes went wide. "Really?"

"Sarcasm, Ron, sarcasm. I really do have to go, though, or else I'll REALLY be grounded until I'm 85."

Ginger hair bobbed. "Okay. See you later…" he frowned, testing the word: "bestie."

Oh gosh. Is he gonna…?

"Bye….bestie!"

Oh no.

"Uh…bye!" I called, opening the door.

"Maybe once you're not grounded….bestie….you could come over to the Burrow!" Ron's voice got fainter.

You started it...Tom raised his eyebrows, lips quirking up into a smirk.

Please don't.

Bestie.

I wondered if we were, even as I bashed my head against the wall and groaned.

Do you want them to? R&R! Comment, esp if you have a compliment i can use to help you guys enjoy the story more, or flamers that'll help me even more!