Sins of the Father

Two more rejection letters. Shoulders slumped, Cristin dropped the parchments onto the table. Hearing the snickers of several students sitting just down the table from her, she didn't even have to look up to know they were laughing at her. To her relief, the bell signaling the first lesson rang before they could start taunting her again. She shoved the papers into her bag and trailed behind the other students headed to class. What's the point? Not like my grades matter anyway. She thought about the replies she'd gotten from all the schools and jobs she'd applied to so far. There were now ten. All rejections.

Though she usually slept through History of Magic, today she spent the class thinking. The house was gone. The Ministry had claimed it as soon as her parents had been arrested. Luckily she'd been able to stay at Hogwarts in the meantime, but she'd be graduating in a month and currently had zero prospects. And Thunder was out of a home as well. That angered her more than the fact she'd lost her home. Thunder hadn't done anything to anyone. He was the sweetest horse and best friend she'd ever had. He didn't deserve to be left in a boarding stable where he barely saw Cristin at all. He was well taken care of, but she knew he was bored and lonely.

That's why she was selling him. It broke her heart to lose her only friend, but it wasn't fair to him. She didn't think she'd be able to take him with her wherever she ended up anyway. At least the woman who was going to take him away the next day seemed to love Thunder as much as Cristin did. It was for the best, she told herself.

Exiting Charms, she sighed, glad there was only one class left to go before the weekend. Somehow, she'd managed to convince the Headmaster to allow her to go to Hogsmeade the next day to sell Thunder. At least she'd be away from her classmates for a while.

"Welles!"

Cristin cringed at the voice, but stopped in the hallway. She didn't look up as the person approached.

"Hurry up. I'll be late for Transfiguration."

Digging in her bag, Cristin found a paper and held it out to the boy standing in front of her, never raising her eyes above his red and yellow striped tie.

The Gryffindor prefect gave her a once-over. "You changed the handwriting, right?"

"Yes." Best to stick to one-word answers, she thought, don't ask for trouble.

"You know what'll happen if you didn't right?" He took a step closer.

You'll get what you deserve, you cheating bastard? She held her tongue and stared at the Gryffindor patch on his robes. She knew what would happen. Someone would say something to their parents, and the Aurors would come and take her to Azkaban for questioning. Again.

It didn't matter she had never once done anything to support You-Know-Who. It didn't matter she hadn't put a toe out of line since that Halloween night two years ago when baby Potter had defeated him. It didn't matter she wanted nothing to do with her parents and had even testified against her father and had him sent to Azkaban permanently. Nothing she did mattered.

He scanned the parchment, then started laughing. "Not even the Three Broomsticks will let you work there?" he howled with laughter, drawing the attention of passing students. He held up the rejection letter. "Can't even be a bar wench."

Students all around started snickering. More than one commented it was no less than You-Know-Who supporting scum like her deserved. She snatched the parchment in his hand, ripping it away.

She turned to run, but he grabbed her roughly by the shoulder. "Hey, I'm not done with you. You still owe me an assignment."

Anger flared and she shoved him away. "I don't owe you anything!"

He grabbed the strap of her bag, pulling her roughly toward him. After dumping the contents out on the floor, he pushed her to the ground. "Find it."

Glancing up, she saw the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher standing in his doorway. He retreated quickly, obviously not willing to help her. Knowing the students watching gleefully wouldn't either, she spotted the essay and thrust it up at him.

"You need to learn some manners." Cristin looked up just in time to catch his leer and the gleam in his eye as he took the paper. A chill ran down her spine.

"What is going on here?" A voice demanded.

Cristin froze on the floor. The Gryffindor prefect flashed a practiced smile. "She tripped and fell, Professor Snape. I was just helping her up." She suppressed a yelp as he grabbed her elbow and yanked her to her feet. "You should be more careful," he said to her in a mock-concerned voice, loud enough so everyone could hear.

Professor Snape glared at him but he only smiled in return. Leaning down so only Cristin could hear he whispered, "I'm not through with you."

The students dispersed when the warning bell rang. Cristin kneeled down to gather her strewn belongings, hoping Professor Snape would have to get to his next class and leave her alone with her humiliation.

He was still there when she stood, holding out her Herbology text. "Is there a problem?"

She looked at the floor. She didn't know how he'd gotten a job at Hogwarts when his reputation in relation to You-Know-Who was almost as bad as hers. "No, Professor."

She knew he was watching her, but she refused to look up or give any sign of how mortified she felt. Finally, he turned and left.

She stayed in the dorm until the next day.

Walking back toward Hogwarts, her heart breaking, Cristin tried not to think about how she would never see Thunder again. The woman had paid her in cash and the coins jangled in the leather pouch in her pocket, a constant reminder of what she had lost. Fighting tears, she passed the secondhand robe shop, pausing to let a harried looking woman exit.

Cristin caught the door and held it open as the woman struggled to contain her purchases along with a baby, a toddler and a pair of unruly-looking twins. "Thank you."

"Joke shop! Joke shop! Pleeeeeeeease!" One of the redheaded twin boys begged. The other twin mimicked his brother.

The toddler jumped up and down. "Me too! Me too!"

"Boys, please! We can't afford it right now. Stop yelling or you'll wake up your sister." But it was too late, a loud wail had already started.

Ignoring her, one of the twins grabbed her arm and dragged her across the street toward Zonko's storefront. Trying to console the baby, the woman didn't notice she'd dropped a bag. Cristin picked it up and ran after them.

"Wait, you dropped this!" She held it out to her.

Warm blue eyes turned to her. "Oh, thank you, dear! I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost that!"

Cristin walked back to the castle, no longer having the jangle of coins as a constant reminder of what she had lost.

She'd almost made it to the front door when an owl swooped in front of her, bearing a letter. She saw her name on the front and took it cautiously. Odd time for mail, she thought to herself as she walked into the Great Hall. Seeing the Ministry seal, she swallowed hard. She moved to one side of the hall, by the dungeon stairs and opened the letter.

Tears sprung to her eyes as she read.

...Julius Welles was declared deceased at 9:48 am this morning, May 6...all assets of the Welles estate have been frozen and confiscated by the Ministry of Magic until further notice...pending interview of the relations...

Her tears were not because her father was dead, but because she knew what it meant. They'd be looking for answers about the Dark Lord and his supporters from her now. Even though no amount of Veritserum, no intensity of the Imperious Curse, could give her knowledge she did not possess, she knew it wouldn't matter. They wanted answers and they would get them any way they could.

"Just who I was looking for."

Not now, please not now. Cristin turned to run, but Scott grabbed her arm in a painfully tight grip. She tried to pull away from the Gryffindor prefect but it was no use. She opened her mouth to scream.

Scott drew back and backhanded her across the cheek. Spots danced in front of her eyes. She tasted blood.

"Don't even bother. You think anyone is going to help you?" he sneered at her.

Tears of pain and rage stung her eyes. She knew he was right.

He yanked her toward the small closet behind the main staircase. "I think it's time for a lesson in manners."

"Miss Welles. Mr. Crowell."

Scott froze in place, giving Cristin the opportunity to wrench away. She turned to see Professor Snape at the top of the dungeon stairs. She quickly wiped blood at the corner of her mouth away, shifting her blonde hair to hide her reddening cheek.

"Professor Snape." Scott replied haughtily. He didn't think the new teacher had any real authority over anyone but there was no sense in testing Snape's influence unnecessarily. Shooting a glare at Cristin, he decided he could wait until a more opportune time. He smiled at Snape and sauntered away as though nothing had happened.

After Scott had gone back the way he had come, Snape turned to question Cristin but she was already gone. Spying a paper on the floor, he picked it up.

Snape sat in his office later that night, long after curfew. Though he'd mentioned his concerns to the Headmaster, he doubted anything would, or even could, be done. Glancing back at the letter he'd picked up in the Great Hall, he frowned. A slight noise caught his attention and he stood, wondering if someone was in the classroom. Silently making his way into the dark room, he contemplated detention punishments. Examining the contents of the student cupboard, which hung open, he didn't see anything missing.

Turning to go back to his office, he did see a flash of light colored hair exiting quickly. He followed.

The sound of footsteps led him up the dungeon staircase into the Great Hall. The door to the outside was just closing when he'd reached the top. He quickly followed, hoping it was Crowell.

A figure stood by the lake, illuminated by the full moon. Wondering why they suddenly didn't care about being seen, Snape hurried to catch them. Rushing to the lakeside, he recognized the figure at the same time he recognized the bottle in her hand. It fell to the ground and rolled away, obviously empty.

"No!"

Cristin turned, mild surprise showing on her face. Her legs folded under her and she collapsed to the ground.

Snape rushed over, determined to get her back to the castle and an antidote, though he knew the vial she had taken didn't have one. He suspected she knew that as well. She always had been his best student.

"Why?" She didn't fight as he knelt by her and pulled her toward him.

She tried to smile. "I always thought...lake...pretty in the moonlight."

Her breathing was shallow and her skin as cold as ice. The half-smile faded and tears shone in her eyes. "It was...the only...way out."

Snape shook his head.

"Was...for me...not like...you." Her eyes took on a faraway look, staring past him to the stars above.

He wanted to shake sense into her, even though he knew it was too late. "It could have been different. One more month and you would have been free from here."

She smiled slightly and tried to take a breath. "Yes...wanted...to be...free."

And her eyes saw no more.