Hello everyone. As you can see this is chapter 6 and my first AN thus far.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Just the characters you do not recognize. (Yeah this is a bit belated)

Chapter 6: Idle Hands

Meissa was quiet, slicing an ingredient into small sizes before she added it to the cauldron. Her hands moving automatically, trying to lose herself in the motions.

She could feel Snape's ever watchful eyes, analyzing her moves and her gestures. She hated that he knew her well enough to know when something's wrong.

She hated that she was her own worst enemy. But she hated that people knew her better than she knew herself.

The closer she got to the completion of the potion, the more she slowed. Not because the potion called for it but because she dreaded the talk professor likely wanted to have. But personal pride demanded that she moved at the pace necessary for the potion.

Before long she was stirring the potion before she doused the flame to let it sit.

Finally done she wipes away any sweat on her forehead before silently telling herself that she couldn't avoid it anymore. She dreaded what he was going to say but she knew that delaying it any longer would make things worse.

She fidgets with her shirt, warring with indecision, before she forces herself to walk over to him where he has been silently grading essays.

"Professor?"

"We're alone right now," Snape replies without looking up.

Meissa fidgets, playing with her hair - ideally noting that she needed a trim.

"Um, Uncle Sevy…" she mutters quietly, not missing the look he had about her title for him. He never did like being called 'Sevy' by anyone.

"Meissa."

"Uh…" she takes a seat across from him. "I…"

"Are you ready to talk about last night?"

"… Greengrass filled me in on some of what happened."

"I see… you cannot remember anything?" Meissa nods her head slowly."Tell me what you can remember."

With a reluctant sigh she tells him about everything that had happened in the recent week. Glossing completely over her involvement in the pranks done on Pansy - though she doubts he fell for it.

"The last thing you can remember, without the aid of what your friend had told you, is returning with drinks for Greengrass and yourself?"

"Yes."

"Strange…" Snape comments, thinking about it.

"What is?"

He looks at her strangely for a moment before shaking his head. "Did your friend say you took off after Parkinson?"

Meissa thought it over for a second. "Um… Yeah, yeah she did."

Snape nods, thinking as he writes something down on his parchment.

"You remember nothing at all?"

"None."

"But any other time when you had a black out you remembered what led to it, correct?"

Meissa nods her head, she hated the occasional blackouts. Sometimes she woke up in the same room, other times she wakes up far from where she had been in the first place. She once woke up surrounded by toys she hadn't played with since she was seven.

She watches Snape search for a clean parchment, twirling her wand slowly. Once he had found a sheet he starts writing something and sensing that nothing else could be done at the moment Meissa gets up to check on the potion. Despite knowing that it would be another ten minute before the potion is completed and it would be time for her.

"It's still puzzling," Snape observes, "Normally you can recall what led to your blackouts or at least the general mood you had likely been feeling."

"It is weird…" Meissa mutters in agreement, gathering the remaining ingredients she hadn't used. She had been very precise and managed to use just enough to not be wasteful. Some of the items couldn't be reused so she disposes of them properly. The bits she could use for another potion she stored safely away before gripping the sides of the table.

"Uncle Sevy?" she calls quietly, "Will I ever be normal?"

Snape's writing stops at her question and he slowly sets it down before he locks his fingers together. He props his chin on his hands, thinking. "Meissa. Why would you wish to be normal?"

"It would be better than what I feel right now. Better than this…"

"Are you so sure about that?"

"It isn't normal to be like this Uncle Sevy!"

"Normal is…" Snape pauses to think of what to say. "It means changing who you are to fit in."

Meissa turns and crosses her arms. "I don't want to be like this Uncle Sevy."

"Then you have another reason to be consistent with your potions, yes?"

The girl sighs and nods her head before she rubs her face. "What should I do? I mean, I attacked Pansy in front of witnesses." She starts pacing. "I thought I knew that I couldn't leave witnesses."

Snape picks up his quill and scribbles something down. "You said that you were in the courtyard at the time of your blackout, correct?" He hears her make a noise that he takes as a yes. "So I want to know how the two of you ended up in the Common Room before the attack."

"What do you mean?"

"You were in the courtyard at the time of Pansy's attack on Greengrass. Yet Pansy wasn't attacked until she was in the Common Room." He looks up to see Meissa is nodding her head slowly, waiting for the point.

"Um….What?"

Snape sighs and beckons her over, getting another sheet of parchment out.

"As you know the courtyard you were practicing in is on the other side of the castle grounds, close to the Ravenclaw Tower." He draws a circle just as Meissa was taking a seat. "The entrance to the Slytherin tower is in the dungeons." He does a rough sketch and she sees what he means.

"How did I miss that…" she whispers quietly as she stares at the wet ink.

"I chased her," she whispers in realization.

"The question is, why?"

Meissa got up and started to pace, biting on her thumb as she thought it over. "I…" she slows to a stop by the cauldron, distractingly sending the potions into the vials. "I hated Parkinson. I didn't like her because she was everything I hated about…" she trails off.

Snape watched on as she stood there, wondering if he should say something to bring her out of her reflective moment.

He knew from past experience that it was likely an unpleasant memory but at the same time he knew that she needed to face the past. It was, for him, the only way for her to move on. She needs to face the past instead of running away from it.

When he decided that too much time has passed he stands to the fullest height he can achieve. "Meissa."

There was no response.

"Meissa."

Nothing.

"Meissa Jean Black!" he calls sharply.

Her head snaps up, her attention called instantly. She turns towards him with an unhappy look on her face - she hated anyone using her full name. But he had seen it as a necessary evil if he wanted to get her attention.

They stare at each other for a long moment before she lets out a huff.

"You worry about every little thing!"

"You give me probable reason to."

Meissa crosses her arms stubbornly at him.

"It's not like I intend to."

Snape stands and walks over to her, looking down to her defiant and oh so insecure eyes.

"What?" she asks, her voice low and soft. A huge difference from the earlier defiance.

"I know you never intended to," he reassures her, clasping her on her shoulders. "However, I worry because I care."

She frowns at him before she averts her eyes. "Uncle Sevy… I'm sorry," she mumbles quietly before she hugs him.

Snape smiles to himself and hugs her back as tightly as she hugged him. Hugging her for as long as she would let him, until she started to squirm. Then he let her go, his eyes watchful as she barely manage to suppress a shudder.

Her aversion to being held for more than a moment was often a source of trouble in hard times. Snape often had to find ways to comfort the girl without provoking her into an even worse panic attack.

"No apologies needed," he whispers as he brushes her hair out her face. "Now then, have you finished your potions?"

Meissa groans as she sulks back to her workstation to present the two correctly brewed potions.

"I dunno if this is meant to be punishment or fun," she gripes to him, handing him the vials.

"Anything is better than having you destroy everything in your wake," Snape remarks as he returned to his desk.

"Well I'm bored now, Uncle Sevy!" Meissa whines as she ungracefully plops down in the chair across from him.

"Then brew another one."

"This was the third potion you had me make."

"This hardly qualifies as third," he writes something down as he observes the coloring of the potions.

"I was brewing two potions at once for the first round, Uncle Sevy. It counts as third."

"Then might I recommend a harder potion?" he hasn't looked up yet. "Perhaps the Babbling beverage? It would go wonderfully with the Volubilis potion."

Meissa glances at him as she twirls her wand.

"The Babbling potion is hardly worth my time," she dismisses, "And what about the Volubilis potion?"

He looks up briefly, exchanging a brief look with her. She knew right then she wasn't fooling him. Nevertheless she went on.

"How about a laugh-inducing potion?" she suggest before she screws her face up in distaste. "On second thought, never mind."

"Perhaps you should try Veritaserum?" Snape suggests, "Or the Polyjuice?"

"Dull and… nah," Meissa dismisses.

"You are being picky on purpose."

"Well I'm terribly bored!"

Snape sighs and gives her a look that told her to behave. She simply crosses her arms and gives him a look of her own.

"You could let me out early."

"I said all day and that is what you will get."

Meissa sighs in complete and utter boredom.

"Fine, I'll go scrub the cauldrons or something. Anything better than this dull sitting around." With a huff she was up and stomping across the room with Snape shaking his head in disbelief at the girl's antics.

"With or without magic," he inquires after her, just before the door to the other room could slam shut.

~MJB~

Meissa was present for supper and had an appreciation for her freedom as she scarfs down her food. Ignoring completely the glares of her housemates. Though in perfect honestly she should have been worried as having enemies within one's own house is never actually the brightest idea one could have.

"How was detention with Professor Snape?" Daphne is asking the raven haired girl as she speared a slice of ham. Her eyes curious as she watched Meissa's movements.

"Dreadfully boring," the girl confides. "As much as I enjoy brewing potions there is a moment when it just becomes repetitive." She makes a face.

"Brewing potions can become repetitive?"

Meissa nods as she makes herself a sandwich with two slabs of bread, ham, cheese, and pretty much whatever she wanted.

"Are you even listening?"

"Yes, why?"

"Maybe because you seem really interested in building a perfect sandwich."

Meissa pauses in her activity and looks at the blonde with a sheepish look on her face.

"Sorry." She sets the knife down. "I'm honestly not interested in eating often so…"

"So you cram as much as you can in one sitting?"

The disbelief was rather clear in Daphne's voice at this point.

"It's better than eating nothing when I am in the mood to eat something."

Daphne stares at her in confusion while Meissa adopts a puzzled look.

"I think you just confused both of us."

"I think you're right about that," Meissa mutters as she replays the sentence in her mind a few times. She quickly waves off their confusions before she helps herself to the sandwich.

"So what's so different about today?"

"Um… I don't know," she confesses.

"Is it always going to be one confusing day after another with you?" Daphne asks idly as she makes herself another plate to eat.

"It seems likely."

"Fantastic."

Meissa snickers at Daphne's deadpanned voice before a pensive look crosses her face. "Do you… do you want to stop being…"

Daphne blinks in surprise before she takes Meissa's hand, though she didn't fail to notice the twitch of the girl's hand at the touch.

"Meissa, I will never stop wanting to be your friend. I mean we'll have rows now and then - that's what friends do." The girls look at each other. "But I'll never tell you to get lost."

Meissa starts to squirm under the blonde's touch, prompting Daphne to let her go.

Someday Daphne is going to figure out the strange contradiction that is the youngest living Black but until then she'll just have to take each day one by one until she does.

Daphne barely noticed the slight shudder Meissa gave before she started eating again. Acting like she hadn't noticed that the other girl's odd quirks.

There will be another time to go over them.

~MJB~

Meissa was in the middle of braiding her hair, enjoying the midday sun and the autumn breeze, when Hermione walked into the courtyard, nose buried in her book. The raven-haired girl rolls her eyes fondly at the girl's antics.

"Hermione," the Slytherin calls out to the girl just as she was starting to walk by.

She squeaks and whirls around in mid-jump. "Oh, Meissa!" the girl exclaims, pressing the closed book to her chest. "How are you today?" she asks just as Meissa was tying off the end of her braid.

Before she huffs in annoyance at the bangs that were too short to be tied back in the braid.

"I'm well enough," Meissa answers as she plays with the end of her braid.

"Only well enough?"

Meissa gives her an amused look. "Did you expect something more?"

"Mm… I honestly haven't the foggiest idea."

The raven haired girl chuckles, "Where are you off to?"

"Oh, I uh…" Hermione sits down next to the Slytherin girl, lowering her voice, "I was researching Harry's ancestors."

"I'm sorry, what?" Hermione blushes and fidgets in her seat. "Harry Potter's parents? Whatever for?"

"I, well, Harry was made seeker of the Gryffindor team."

Meissa cocks an eyebrow up at the girl.

"And this warrants a research?"

"I was terribly curious."

"Haven't you heard the phrase about curiosity?"

"Of course, who hasn't?"

"Then I suggest reigning in your curiosity," Meissa teases, getting an even brighter shade of red from the other girl.

"But I found out that-."

"Harry's father was a chaser," Meissa interrupts.

"How did you know?!"

Meissa rolls her eyes. "Oh honestly Hermione, my godfather went to school with Harry's parents."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Oh… who was he?"

Meissa smiles at him. "He's a brilliant man, my godfather," she whispers in a conspiratorial tone. "Oh but everyone hates him so much. He isn't well liked but that's okay. I know who he really is and I love him for it."

Hermione looks at her strangely before shakes her head. "So your godfather, he knew Harry's parents?"

"Yes."

"That's fantastic! Maybe he can tell Harry stories about his parents!"

Meissa grimaced at what the Gryffindor said and it did not go amiss.

"What, what's wrong?"

"Um… My godfather doesn't really like to talk about his Hogwarts day. Understandable really when you think about it."

"And you're not going to tell me."

The Black Heiress glances at the other girl, noting right away her downcast look.

"It's not I don't want to," Meissa words carefully, "It's more like it's not my place to." She scratches her chin thoughtfully. "I've known him my whole life, Hermione, and getting anything from his Hogwarts days is like pulling teeth from an old coot."

Hermione rolls her eyes before she smacks her friend on the arm.

"What! It's true!" she whines pitifully at the Gryffindor before they hear someone say something in a raised voice.

"Someone will vanish occasionally…"

They look up to see that its Harry and Ron just as two older and identical redheads head down a different path.

"But they'll turn up in a month or two!"

"Oh go on Harry, Quidditch is great," Ron is saying as he walks past them, the boys either unaware of their presence or uncaring. "Best game there is! And you'll be great too!" Hermione jumps up from the bench and Meissa trudges along, carrying her things along. Might as well see what these three are up to.

"But I've never even played Quidditch," Harry was saying as she caught up to them. "What if I make a fool of myself?"

"You won't make a fool of yourself," Hermione injects, "It's in your blood." She turns to Meissa, "Right?"

"Well, being a seeker I won't attribute to the father. But he always did say that he was a natural born flyer."

"What, my father told you?"

"No, my godfather," Meissa answers bluntly.

"Oh."

Hermione rolls her eyes, "My point is, Harry, you'll do great." She walks off but not before she beckons them to follow her.

A short trip later they were approaching a trophy case and the bushy haired girl points to a plaque of Quidditch players. One in particular listed a James Potter as a Chaser as well as the Quidditch captain.

"Whoa. Harry, you never told me your father was a Chaser," Ron breathed in awe while Meissa was rolling her eyes at the red head. He was a bit of a hopeless one this one.

"You don't think your words through do you?" the Black heiress questions in a lazy drawl before Hermione smacks her shoulder in a silent reprimand to play nice.

"Oi, what are you doing with us, snake?" Ron all but growled - he had very little intimidation factor in the raven-haired girl's opinion. His face just didn't suit his attempts to scowl.

"Ronald, she's my friend."

"She's a Slytherin."

"So?" Meissa retorts. "There is nothing in the books that states one must be friends only with their own house."

"She has a point there," Hermione remarks.

"She's a Slytherin! Our worst enemy!" Meissa scoffs and earned a look of ire from the flaming red head.

"There are far worst things out there besides us measly Slytherins," she drawls.

"What could be worse than you?" Ron asks though the look in Harry's eyes suggested that he knew or at least suspected.

"You know already," Meissa drawls. "Every time you flinch at his name, every time you whisper You-Know-Who, you give him power." She shakes her head and starts to walk away though she was quickly joined by Hermione.

"Who?" Hermione asks, her voice low.

"The fallen Dark Lord. He was the cause of the Wizarding war that ended ten years ago on Halloween night."

"And you're not afraid of him?"

Meissa paused to think about that one. She never thought about if she was afraid of him or not. "I think fear is subjective. I can't be afraid of something I know isn't around anymore."

"So, every time someone says You-Know-Who, they're basically saying they're afraid of this person?"

"His name is Voldemort." Meissa didn't miss the flinch Ron gave at the name. "And people's been afraid of him since he started his rise to power in 1970."

"You know a lot about this person despite the fact people don't like to talk about him."

"Considering he's the reason why my mother is… well, in prison, I have reason to be interested in his personal history."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Meissa glances at Hermione before sighing. "I know. Not many would unless they know personally who my mother is."

"Who is she, if you feel comfortable telling me that is."

Meissa turns to look at the boys as they chattered about something. "Her name is Bellatrix Black." A glance at Hermione told her that she doesn't know who that is but she saw that she had every intention of finding out. Ron, on the other hand, had narrowed his eyes in suspicion once he heard the name.

"We probably should get going. It's getting late and curfew is nearly here," Meissa distracts the girl before she could ask for more information.

"Oh, you're right." Hermione turns to the boys. "Ron, Harry, we need to go!"

"Not until you lose the Slytherin!"

Meissa rolls her eyes. "I'm headed the same way you are, Weasley. Unless you wish to explain to Professor Snape why I was late to returning to the Slytherin house." Weasley turned pale at the suggestion. "I didn't think so."

Hi everyone. I want to thank you for reading the chapters if you've gotten this far. Hope you enjoyed them and if there is an questions or something is confusing or unclear please let me know.

And as always please leave a review for me.