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Severus Snape stepped directly into a tiny sitting room that had the feeling of a dark padded cell. The walls were completely covered in books, most of them bound in old black or brown leather; a threadbare sofa, an old armchair and a rickety table stood grouped together in a pool of dim light cast by a candle-filled lamp which hung from the ceiling. The place had an air of neglect, as though it was not usually inhabited.
Although currently, a Miss Isobel Snape sat immersed in yet another book on the old armchair. She didn't look up at his entry. They left Hogwarts school nearly a month ago, and they had had little time other than to comb through books and lessons. There were no evenings to herself, no weekends, no breaks. At times, Snape wondered if he were pushing her too hard, but she appeared to flourish under the pressure.
Taking a few steps, he reached down to pick up a book thrown to the side. It was Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles by Wilhelm Wigworthy. "Did you read this book?"
Isobel reluctantly pulled her eyes from her current book, The Standard Book of Spells Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk. She glanced at the book in Snape's hands and said, "I skimmed through it."
Snape raised his eyebrow on his usual stern face.
Dropping the book with a scoff, Isobel retorted, "Is there a particular reason I need to know more about Muggles than I already know? What purpose in the Wizarding world do I need to know more?"
Clearing his throat, he explained, "Well, it is important for anyone hoping to live or work among the Muggle community." Pausing a moment to stare down at the book with a thoughtful expression, Snape continued, "You are right. Having the unique experience of being a witch having grown up in the Muggle world, you have more knowledge than most wizards. Even that fool Arthur Weasley who works with Muggle objects at the Ministry. So, if you're rather sure that type of work is not for you, then I daresay this book is useless."
"I'm sure," Isobel answered from behind her book.
Snape tossed the book into a pile of discards and turned to leave, then stopped. "By the way, where did you get this book?" He knew that he never would have grabbed it, finding Muggle Studies useless himself.
"It was in the pile of books in that room at Hogwarts."
Dumbledore. Snape simply made a noncommittal sound and walked through the doorway into the kitchen to prepare dinner, thinking back to their last day at Hogwarts.
Earlier in the day, Snape had sent a trusted Hogwarts house elf to deliver all of Isobel's books to the poverty-stricken neighborhood in the northern mill town known as Cokeworth, at the very same house he had grown up in.
He wanted to take Isobel to Honeydukes in Hogsmeade before going home for the summer. To give her at least one carefree day. The Dementors were gone and the wizard town was serene as any typical summer day. Isobel glanced around in curiosity, her eyes only growing large in alarm when they ran into Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts groundkeeper and teacher for Care of Magical Creatures. He was also part-giant, which could alarm even the most observant of Muggles.
After a terse greeting in reply to Hagrid, Snape and Isobel continued strolling beside the quaint little shops. Snape told Isobel what Hagrid taught, then asked, "Are you interested in the subject for next year?"
Isobel stopped to look at some magical items in a store window, then responded as she walked away, "No, I'm not really interested in creatures of any sort. That's what zoos are for."
Snape glanced sharply at her comment. "We don't have zoos."
She shrugged nonchalantly as if she really didn't care one iota, "Shame."
With a solid approval at Honeydukes from Isobel, Snape led her far enough away from the shops that they neared the Shrieking Shack, a dilapidated house rumored to be haunted. Snape planned on Apparating to Spinner's End from there, which afforded privacy for Isobel, who had never been exposed to such methods of transportation.
When they landed with a loud crack, Isobel had no time to notice her surroundings before she promptly ran to the edge of the sidewalk and lost the contents of her stomach. Snape did not ask her if she was alright; after all, he had warned her. Many wizards and witches, especially young ones, tended to react negatively the first few times.
Straightening, she turned to regard the street they had appeared out of thin air on. Rows and rows of dilapidated brick houses, their windows dull and blind in the fading light. Dusk was fast approaching.
The chilly mist drifted over a dirty river that wound between overgrown, rubbish-strewn banks. An immense chimney, relic of a disused mill, reared up, shadowy and ominous, behind her.
Snape motioned in the direction of a dark house that looked just as derelict as the rest of the houses, but it was the last house on the street and didn't appear as suffocating as the others. "Do the neighbors bother you much?" Isobel asked Snape curiously.
"You'll find this street is mostly abandoned. The Muggles here are elderly and suspicious and tend to keep to themselves. I daresay you won't see a soul all summer." He glanced at her and warned her, "There aren't any children."
She shrugged her shoulders. "No one likes me much anyway." He stared at her with an odd expression on his stern face, then spun on his heels sharply. Isobel took a deep breath and let him lead her through the creaky gate.
She stopped in the small front yard and examined the tall, menacing home of her father. Home sweet home, she thought.
By the time he was done thinking back to that day, Snape had dinner boiling on top of a Muggle-looking stovetop, using magical fire. Being a brilliant Potions master, Snape found that cooking was cathartic and simple enough to loosen the tension. Many days, Isobel would quietly step up beside him and help chop vegetables. She preferred to do so by hand, not trusting or comfortable with her wand yet, explaining that it reminded her of her grandmother.
Snape appreciated the help of his silent companion. His summers were usually filled with the stifling mute companionship of his books, hardly setting foot outside the house or seeing other wizard or witches. Not that he was complaining as he preferred his solitude.
Startled, he froze for a moment as the realization swept to the forefront of his thoughts. He didn't mind Isobel's presence at all, despite spending every day with her. He had to admit to himself that he had been worried this would be an issue.
While Severus was preoccupied deeply with his thoughts, Isobel continued to read her books. She was interrupted when a knock sounded on the door. She put the book down and gaped, surprised, toward the front door. The knock came again, and she glanced toward the kitchen, where the sounds of Snape didn't abate. Realizing he couldn't hear the knocks, and curious as to their unexpected visitor, Isobel placed the book on the unsteady table and stepped silently to the front door, opening it to reveal a much older man than even Snape, with a bulbous nose and grey, frizzy hair pulled back into a ponytail.
Eyeing the robes, Isobel concluded he was a wizard. The older wizard stared at the girl, dumbstruck.
"May I help you?" Isobel asked quietly, not forgetting her manners.
"Oh, um, yes. I'm looking for Severus Snape, does he happen to live here still?" At that moment, Snape emerged from the shadows of the entryway to stand by Isobel's elbow.
"Nott," Snape nodded tersely at the man in greeting. Isobel was familiar enough with Snape to recognize the tension rolling off him in waves. Not a friend, but not an enemy perhaps, she thought as she closely observed the newcomer. Her dark eyes stuck to the wand the man was gripping tightly, as if he were expecting trouble. Isobel furrowed her brows in thought.
"Severus, you know why I'm here," Nott answered gruffly, staring questioningly at the girl.
Snape grabbed Isobel by her shoulders and moved her behind him. Full of tension, he barked at her, "Go outside for a while." He motioned toward the back door directly behind them.
She glared, eyes full of mutinous thoughts, and stormed outside. She crossed her arms and frowned at her shoes, upset at being treated like an unruly child needing to be avoided when adults wanted to commune. Pondering on the doorway intruder, she considered Snape's demeanor. Finally, she relaxed, realizing that she didn't understand everything. The man could have been dangerous.
With that thought, she began to assess the backyard, a place she had only viewed from her bedroom window upstairs. It was even worse up close. She wrinkled her nose at all the dead and decaying weeds. The grass wasn't even green, choosing to reflect the polluted appearance of the houses and street.
It was the opposite of her grandmother's bright and open gardens.
Strolling about with her hands behind her back, she attempted to pass the time, but her mind was growing quickly bored. Sighing, she looked to her left and noticed a mostly hidden door that strongly reminded her of The Secret Garden. It was covered by unhealthy and dry ivy.
Bored and curious, she kicked the door open to reveal a filthy, tiny alleyway. To the left was the muddy river. To the right were more houses and hidden doors.
She didn't want neighbors or onlookers to spot her, but she wanted to explore the riverside. Making sure no one was around, she closed her eyes, slowed her breathing, and focused.
Inside the house, Snape stared coolly down his hooked nose at Nott, a "former" Death Eater. It wasn't unusual for visitors throughout the summer, but it was uncommon for one of them to dare show up on his doorstep.
It was possible the rumors of Voldemort's attempts of return were making the others curious and brave. However, Severus Snape was a well sought-after Potions maker, especially for the difficult to come by Dark Potions. Nott urgently required a Potion, although he refused to explain.
Leading Nott through the hidden door of his bookcase, they walked down the steps toward his winery where he created darker potions. He didn't trust Nott enough to leave him in the house alone. He set to work knowing this specific Potion required a few hours to stew.
The Sun set, casting Spinner's End in darkness.
Down by the river, there was no sound apart from the whisper of the black water and no sign of life apart from a scrawny fox that had slunk up from the bank and curiously glanced from side to side before darting across the street and slipping through a cracked gate.
Isobel quickly transformed back to herself when she safely reached the backyard, only to gasp in alarm when she turned around to the shocked faces of Severus and Nott.
For the first time since she'd met the man who was her father, Isobel reeled back in astonishment at the angry expression on Snape's face. She stood rooted to the spot, unsure what to say in response to having been caught.
Livid, he pointed his finger toward the house and coldly gritted through a tense jaw, "To your room, now!"
Without a word in response, she sidled around the men and ran to her room.
When she was out of sight, Snape glowered at Nott and threatened, "One word, Nott, about any of this, and you'll find the next time we meet will be far less welcoming."
Nott nodded and with Potion in hand, a potion that could have the Ministry raiding his home were they to find out, glanced curiously back at the house before Apparating into the night.
Once Nott disappeared, Severus Snape's shoulders drooped with weariness. His daughter was an unregistered Animagi. It was obvious from the ease at which she transformed, she was skilled and experienced.
He shook his head in bewildered bemusement as he went back inside the house, knowing that he needed to speak to Isobel. Feeling a pang of remorse at his sharp reaction, he headed toward her room.
In that moment, he finally felt like a parent.