Chapter Eleven - The Argument
"You are not taking my daughter anywhere!" a voice fiercely roared, the tone encased in conviction like a mosquito in amber.
"Lord Poseidon has claimed her, Severus," Konstantinos firmly replies, struggling to keep his tone calm amidst his increasing frustration. "She has to go to Camp Half-blood."
Evangeline sat outside Dumbledore's office, nursing a plate of dinner and cup of pumpkin juice, peering through a crack in the door. Her father and a green man had been arguing over some guy named Poseidon and whether or not she goes to a place called "Camp Half-blood" for an hour or so. Whenever Camp Half-blood was mentioned, Evangeline couldn't help but feel it sounded like one of those places parents tell their kids to avoid explaining the concept of death.
She knew from experience that if she walked in on an argument, it would change and she'd be left wondering what else they were going to say before she walked in. So, Evangeline stayed seated where she was and eavesdropped.
"I don't care what he's done, she's still my child –"
"Through adoption," Konstantinos exasperatedly points out, his voice rising.
"Irrelevant," Snape snaps, lips twitching upwards into a sneer. "Evangeline is just as mine as Theodore is."
"Nevertheless, she. Is. Not. Yours." From movies Evangeline had watched, she half-expected Konstantinos to clap as he said this. It seems he was smart enough to not go that route. Knowing her father, she'd be surprised if he didn't hex him for it.
Evangeline carefully scoops up her dinner, avoiding the clinking sound the spoon makes when it connects with the plate. Her jaw ticked. Her being adopted wasn't news to her; she had been told years ago when she stumbled upon the papers after trying on her mother's clothes. She even knew she looked the way she did because of the Transfiguration spell her father placed on her when she was a baby. This was the first time anyone had ever said she was not Snape's daughter, and the feeling it brought on her was like nothing she'd ever felt before.
It was the same kind of anger she felt the day she snapped and yelled at the Slytherin's and Gryffindor's, but stronger. That feeling she felt hours before, when the floor beneath her trembled and the water gushed out of the toilets, were mixed in. They swirled in her chest like a hurricane beginning to form. Out of the corner of her eye, Evangeline saw the remaining liquid in her cup vibrate as though it was reacting to her anger. She let it, focusing her eyes on Konstantinos.
No one spotted her yet. The professors were too busy making sure Snape didn't kill Konstantinos. Not that he ever would. He was smart enough not to kill when there were witnesses.
Evangeline raises her hand as though she's reaching out for something, and, as expected, her juice steadily rises with the movement. She aims, and –
"Are you refusing to send her to Camp Half-blood so she never finds out you killed her mother?" Konstantinos accuses, fists clenched.
Evangeline freezes, eyes widening. What did he just say?
Snape pauses, his expression falling as all eyes fall on him. "That is – that is an entirely different matter."
"Is it?" Konstantinos raises a brow. "Or are you unwilling to reveal that you had kidnapped the princess of Atlantis after killing her mother?"
What? Evangeline leans back, a plethora of emotions running through her. No. My father wouldn't do that. He has to be lying.
She desperately wanted to believe that. Believe the brief loss of composure was just Snape getting caught off guard – it was, after all, a strange thing to accuse someone of — but his words "an entirely different matter" stayed in her mind, sowing the seeds of doubt.
Footsteps derail her train of thought.
Hurriedly, Evangeline gathers her plate and cup, and rushes down the stairs as quietly as possible. Down the hall, she peers around the corner. A few minutes later, Snape, the man she had trusted so dearly, stepped out and disappeared the other way.
Her breathing quickened, tears pricking her eyes. As the rest of the professors exited the door beside the gargoyle, Evangeline turned away, sliding down the wall and doing her best to hold back the tears. She could not believe what she had overheard, wishing she had never heard it. She covered her mouth to muffle the nervous laughter she could not contain, thinking, So this is why they tell you not to eavesdrop. Evangeline wanted to shake the thought away. There was no way it could've been true. Her father couldn't have killed her birth mother. Why would he do that? Then again, Snape had said her mother was on her deathbed, but there's no way he would've sped up the process . . . even though he is smart enough to get away with it.
She shakes her head. No, he wouldn't. That is complete nonsense.
Right?