Please let me know how I'm doing so far! It's been so long since I've written anything :/ I know I'm posting, so far, 2 chapters in one day, but I'm trying to get it out as quickly as possible because I can be prone to dry spells.
. . .
"You are woefully mistaken, Albus." Severus Snape was rooted to the spot just before the door to his office in shocked anger.
"Severus." Dumbledore's presence was as calming as ever, yet Snape's mind could not be tamed. "Come back and I will explain. You can no longer run from the past."
Without a word, Snape practically flew to stand behind his desk, to have anything between him and a past he wished not to visit. The two wizards stared at one another for a very intense moment before Dumbledore silently slid a square picture along his desk. Snape refused to wrench his eyes from the Headmaster at first, but then he forced himself to look down.
The first thing he noticed was this was a Muggle picture. It did not move, and it was disconcerting to see a picture of himself that was unnaturally still. The second thing was this was undoubtedly a picture of him, and he vaguely recognized the location.
Snape's silence allowed Dumbledore to press his point. "Severus, the mother of Isobel took this picture of you, and claimed you are the father. Turn it around."
Hand trembling slightly, he hesitated a moment, then quickly turned the picture over, as if expecting a boggart to jump out at him. He read the back with a sneer. It read simply:
"S.S – father of Isobel".
"How did she know your initials, Severus?" Dumbledore asked quietly. He could sense there was a breakthrough with the potions master, and he needed to proceed with caution.
"It's how I signed the receipt." Snape closed his eyes wearily as the truth washed over him. His thoughts took him back to a time he had succeeded in erasing from his conscious thoughts. To him, it had not existed, nor happened.
"Severus, you know I do not wish to pry. We all have our own private lives, and you more than most." Eyes twinkling mischievously, the Headmaster continued, "She does resemble you to a startlingly degree though."
Familiar sneer back on his face, Snape pushed the picture away from him and snapped, "If you are quite done having fun at my expense, what more do you want Albus? Again, what does this have to do with me? Simply sort the girl and be done with it!" He slashed his hand in the air to emphasis his words.
For once, Dumbledore stood there with an odd sort of shocked expression that slowly morphed into an angry disappointment. "Severus Snape, need I remind you of the laws of the wizarding world when it comes to parentage? She will need a guardian over the summer."
"Send her off with Minerva then. You know she would be more than happy to take her on." Severus was almost desperate. He wanted the Headmaster gone and away to leave him time to think. To sort through the unpleasant memories of his lost love, and his subsequent reaction to that dreaded wedding.
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "That cannot work either unless you were a sole surviving parent. If you do not agree to accept the child as your own, then we will have no choice but to send her back to a mother, who by the grandmother's own admission, had attempted to murder the child for being a witch."
Snape's head snapped to the Headmaster at this news. He growled, "Muggles and their damn superstitions!"
"Ah, Severus, not quite. The grandmother is also a witch. I gather that her daughter is without magic herself, a Squib, and therefore was not relegated to the information of their ancestry. The grandmother had not known of the child's existence until it was nearly too late, and there had not been enough time to fully gain the trust of the girl before her death to explain it to her either. The girl quite literally has no idea who she is and has truly suffered a horrific childhood, not unlike other powerful Dark Wizards that I have known," Dumbledore ended his speech sadly with a far-off look in his eyes.
Snape's fists clenched as he snapped, "What are you saying?"
"I am saying that the girl needs love Severus. Love that she has been denied most of her life. She needs a parent's love, and I daresay she won't receive it from her mother. I failed a child many decades ago, and I'd rather not see another child fail either. If she is to have a chance, she needs guidance from someone she would want to look up to, like a father," implored Dumbledore. "I am not asking for an explanation behind the circumstances of her birth. That is your tale to bear, but she is here. I personally don't want to see her go."
"It appears as if I don't have a choice with this then."
"Au contraire, we always have a choice, as you well know Severus," Albus whispered fiercely, an unspoken reminder in his eyes that told Snape he had made very specific choices in his life. Not unlike the choice he was about to make now.
Escaping from behind the desk suddenly, Severus' voice brusquely whipped at Dumbledore as he headed for the door, "We haven't got all evening, Headmaster. Let's attend to the girl already."
Albus Dumbledore secretly smiled to himself before he followed behind the Potions Professor.
Professor McGonagall stood up as soon as Severus swooped into her small but welcoming office. She couldn't help but notice how the Potions professor's eyes curiously swept over the small girl's figure as she sat staring in front of the large fire, as quiet and withdrawn as ever.
Dumbledore's entrance was far less dramatic. He nodded respectfully at Minerva before gliding to stand before the girl, whose eyes slowly settled on him.
"I hope that you are consistently warm by now, Isobel. And well fed I assume. Minerva does have a fondness for hidden sweets."
Unlike before on the steps of the entrance, Snape was acutely aware of every facet of the child. His daughter. It was impossible to overlook the truth of the situation. The girl was not normal. There was no emotion; she was cold as ice, impervious and motionless.
When the girl failed to respond to the Headmaster, McGonagall intervened, "Albus, we've been speaking during your absence, and Isobel understands enough of what is going on. Her grandmother briefly explained what would occur when she provided the instructions of the Portkey. Isobel handed over the Portkey, over there on my desk." Dumbledore glanced over and noticed the surprisingly archaic pair of glasses. He wondered…
He chuckled to himself as he motioned for Snape. "Severus, please have a seat here," gesturing to the seat across from Isobel.
Minerva sent the Headmaster a questioning glance but said nothing.
"So, Isobel, if I may run a synopsis of the events, please correct me if you feel that I am wrong," the Headmaster gently addressed the girl. "You lived with your mother until you turned eleven, which you were then unexpectedly, but thankfully, transferred to the care of your grandmother. I would assume this is because you received a letter to attend a school, which your mother did not share with you. Your grandmother was also a witch." Isobel's hand twitched at this, but otherwise gave no indication of her feelings.
Her soft voice interrupted the Headmaster, "Lauren was not a witch."
Snape involuntarily jerked at the mention of the woman who birthed his child, but otherwise gave no indication of his feelings.
Dumbledore continued, "You are correct, Isobel. She did not know that her own mother was a witch; therefore, she could not know or accept that which was inside of you." The girl's eyes narrowed sharply at this. "Your grandmother passed away but gave you instructions on how to escape to a school that you were told would accept you. Still fresh from her funeral, you grabbed the item in question, and landed somewhere on the grounds of this school, Hogwarts, although your grandmother couldn't have known much about us. Luckily, she knew enough, and you are here." He slowly walked to stand behind the winged back chair Snape sat on and laid his hand on top. "You are clearly a witch, otherwise the Portkey would not have sent you here, so the question of whether or not you can attend this school is not a question. You are welcome here as a student. What I am about to reveal to you may be shocking, and I apologize, as I know that you have already been through quite enough. We have to speak of your guardianship issue since your mother would otherwise hold that title with the passing of your grandmother."
Isobel's eyes glinted dangerously as she startled so sharply that her teacup landed on the floor to roll unnoticed toward the fireplace. "I won't go back to her!"
Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape all looked on in surprise at the outburst, from a seemingly emotionless child.
"Of course not, dear," soothed McGonagall, who shot dagger-like glares at the Headmaster as if to say get on with it, what's the point of upsetting the girl.
"Ah, yes forgive me child," Dumbledore implored and cleared his throat softly. "I tend to ramble on sometimes. The joys of growing older, I'm afraid. You will not be sent back to your mother. Your mother left enough clues with your grandmother as to the identity of your father. Namely, one photograph. Have you ever seen this picture?"
Still distrusting, Isobel slowly shook her head.
Pulling the picture out of the sleeve of his robe, he handed the still photograph to the child. She stared at it for several tense moments while Snape nervously fidgeted in his chair. The girl's fathomless eyes lashed Snape with an unreadable expression. "You're my father?"
McGonagall looked from the girl to Snape and back again, then jumped to Dumbledore in shock. Noticing her stare, Dumbledore slowly nodded his head down in acknowledgement of the truth. A gasp left her thin lips.
Clearing his throat awkwardly, Snape answered, "Yes, it would appear that I am your father." With those words, a great weight lifted from his chest, and he relished in the rightness of that statement. He, Severus Snape, even managed a small smile for her, which he quickly squashed when he remembered his audience.
"Do you object to Severus as your guardian, Miss Isobel?" Dumbledore queried.
Softly, Isobel said, "No."
"Then it is decided. Severus, this weekend we need to make a trip to the Ministry of Magic. I daresay it's time the girl had a proper surname."
"What do you mean, Headmaster?" Snape struggled not to lose his patience with the mysterious methods of revelation Albus was so fond of.
"The mother, to place action to her disownment of Isobel, legally changed her last name to three x's. Xxx is her name at this moment. She has been deprived of a proper name. Don't you agree it's time to rectify this?"
Snape sat stonily and sniffed, "Well, if that's the case, then of course."
"Wonderful! So then now the only question is what House will she be sorted in? Accio Sorting Hat!" Within moments, the old and battered, frayed and dirty Sorting Hat was in the Headmaster's hands as he beamed at Isobel, who was squinting at the hat with distaste.
"Snape, would you like the honors?" Snape grumbled in irritation, but he grabbed the hat without hesitation and walked over to Isobel.
"This hat will be placed on your head to decide which school House you will best be suited for. Don't be alarmed when it speaks to you," and with no further ado, Snape placed the hat on her head. In a second, the Hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"
Snape sent a pleased and smug grin toward Dumbledore who looked less than pleased. He didn't leave them wondering why for long.
"I'm afraid we have to ask the Hat to sort her into the second-best House for her needs." Holding his hand up when Snape was spluttering to argue, he continued, "She is your daughter, Severus. There are going to be enough questions, and you already greatly favor your students. I suggest that we place her in another House to save any arguments that you are biased, and I daresay it would be good for your image to be benevolent toward another student not in your own House."
"That's an excellent point, Albus," McGonagall defended the Headmaster when it was quite clear that Snape wanted to argue, which was something that should not happen in front of the child.
Backing down, Snape handed the Hat to Dumbledore who promptly placed the Hat on his own head, clearly having a conversation. Then he handed the Hat back to Snape who reluctantly placed it back on Isobel's head.
The Hat took a few moments longer than before, but shouted triumphantly, "RAVENCLAW!"
Severus breathed a sigh of relief. At least it wasn't Gryffindor.