- Rating:
- PG
- House:
- Schnoogle
- Characters:
- Harry Potter Severus Snape
- Genres:
- Drama Angst
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Spoilers:
- Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
- Stats:
-
Published: 12/15/2003Updated: 05/24/2004Words: 8,955Chapters: 2Hits: 1,302
Unwanted
Jaybird
- Story Summary:
- Harry finds out about Snape, and the results are both interesting and mysterious. Why is Snape the way he is? Why can't Harry get that strange Italian girl out of his head? Many mysterious things happen that year some frightening and some wonderful. Reader beware, your in for wild ride full of mistaken actions, strange lies, and frightening truths.
Chapter 01
- Posted:
- 12/15/2003
- Hits:
- 814
- Author's Note:
- This is dedicated to Kaydog, my fabulous friend and ultimate Beta.
Harry smiled. Number 12 Grimmauld Place looked fantastic since he and a band of Weasleys had gone on a cleaning spree. Already a week into his summer holidays, Harry had spent the entire time cleaning. (Much to Ron's complaint.) At least it's livable now... Harry thought.
Voldemort having contacts in Little Winging, Harry was living here.
It had happened on the night after his return from Hogwarts, three men had appeared at the Dursley's doorstep. They had told Harry that he was to come with them, on Dumbledore's orders. Harry, not recognizing them, knew immediately what they were trying to do. A struggle had ensued, stunning and disarming spells flying everywhere. Uncle Vernon had near kicked Harry out again, but Aunt Petunia had stopped him, reminding him again of the dangers. They had been happy, however, when Lupin and Tonks had appeared to take Harry back to Headquarters. After questioning them intensely to be sure of their identities, (and seeing a note signed by Professor Dumbledore), he had agreed to go with them. Sometimes Harry had almost wished to be back there, assured of good treatment by Moody's threats, number 4 Privet Drive wasn't such a bad place.
The Dursley's had basically scurried out of the room every time Harry had entered. So he had pretty much had the house to himself. This was highly enjoyable.
Dumbledore was at Black house much more often now, as Voldemort wasn't doing anything, the entire wizarding world was playing the waiting game. And Sirius is dead.
It was hard, living in Black House without Sirius. He would have loved to have been at his mother's "burning party." They had figured out that the only way to get rid of her portrait was to burn it clear off the wall. After getting rid of the old hag, they had celebrated by also burning all the other portraits, then running about yelling at the top of their lungs.
Harry knew Sirius would have been ecstatic at having him here for the summer. He remembered how he had run about murdering Christmas carols last winter holiday. No, don't think about it.
Staying at Headquarters was bittersweet in this way. His thoughts often became unbearably painful at the most unlikely of times. "This place is huge, we should go exploring..." And Sirius is dead.
Ron and Hermione managed to avoid fighting around him, which was really a blessing. They had both become protective of him in the last days.
Harry was never allowed to leave a room without everybody in it asking him where he was going, yet he was certainly willing to sacrifice a little privacy to be allowed to stay at Headquarters. As opposed to last summer, when he had been completely left in the dark, he was now kept up to date on nearly everything.
He, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny were now allowed to sit in on Order meetings. Harry contemplated all this as he waited for the first to start. Wonder what's taking so long...
Sitting about the kitchen table were: Tonks, wow that's green... Moody, wonder if he'll ever get his nose fixed... Mr. Weasley, Mundungus Fletcher, Mrs. Weasley, Kingsley, Lupin, Dumbledore himself, Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, Charlie, Bill, Hermione, Professor McGonagall, and an assorted group of wizards Harry didn't know.
"Whom're we waiting for?" Harry said impatiently, turning to Lupin.
His ex-professor replied quietly: "Snape and his report, Harry. That's how we always open the meetings."
Harry felt slightly nervous that Snape would be there, especially if he made a fool of himself. Unlike last summer, apparently Snape would be staying at Black House. Darn... just can't get away from that guy.
A few minutes passed, mostly full of small talk when...
Professor Dumbledore coughed. "Are you bringing Nalia here, Severus?"
Harry started. He hadn't noticed Snape come in. It was evident that nobody else had either, looking at the many starts and jumps. Snape merely nodded.
Ron gave Harry a curious look. "Girlfriend?" he mouthed. They sat there for a moment, even Hermione engulfed in silent giggles.
Hermione suddenly stopped. Both the boys looked at her.
"Snape..." she whispered.
Harry looked over at Snape.
His Potions Master was looking exhausted. He was shaking violently in his chair, sometimes in continual shivers, others in wild, vibrating fits. His face was drawn, and paler than usual (and for Snape this was some great feat.) Snape, whom Harry had never even seen daydream, now looked as though all he wanted was to sleep.
Dumbledore coughed again. "Severus?"
Snape nodded. "The Dark Lord isn't as close on our trail as he thinks. He still believes that I am loyal." His voice was pained and raspy. Lupin reached and gave him a cup of something steamy. Snape took it, looking unused to being fussed over. His voice became substantially stronger, however, and his shaking lessened.
So Snape continued. "I have fed them the information necessary. It seems to be keeping them satisfied. Three more are dead now, two of the new ones died. And Voldemort himself killed Avery. That's about it."
"Right then." Dumbledore sighed. "Does anyone have any questions?"
Ron raised his hand. "Did these deaths have reasons?" His brow was furrowed in concentration and his eyes were dead serious.
To Harry's surprise, Snape spoke directly to Ron, as though he were any other adult in the room. "Avery had a drinking problem. He was constantly not ready to carry out Voldemort's orders. The Dark Lord does not take kindly to unpreparedness."
Hermione seemed to be thinking hard (for a change). "Maybe," she said timidly, "we should keep a list of which Death Eaters are still in his service."
A wizard Harry didn't know stood up. "You are hardly in the position to make suggestions, little girl," he said smugly.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all sat awed as Snape stood too. "Everyone in these meetings has the right to make suggestions, Kerlikan. No matter what their age." Snape snarled. "In any case, who is in what position is no choice of yours." It was evident that Snape and Kerlikan often got into arguments of this nature, for no-one else seemed to even notice, aside from the people nodding agreement with Snape.
Snape cooled down. He looked at Hermione. "Miss Granger?"
Hermione continued, eyeing Snape carefully, though her voice had more confidence. "I just think it would make sense. I mean, then we know who to look out for. Not only that, but then every one would know whom we are talking about.
Moody gave a small, crooked smile that resembled a Halloween mask. "I," he said, "think that is a grand idea, Hermione."
Hermione flushed with pleasure. Hermione's greatest accomplishment, getting Snape to stand up for her... And now Moody's handing out compliments... And Sirius is dead.
Moody took out a piece of parchment and handed it to Harry. "Potter," he said lightly, "would you do the honors?"
Harry smiled and took the parchment and quill. He started to write the names Snape was rattling off, marking the more dangerous people with stars. Snape started with 'new ones'. "Donnell, Sinicapt, Ewisth, Harken, he's one of ours, Kinsman,..."
Once their list was done, Dumbledore surveyed it approvingly. "Hmm.. That looks right." Harry smiled triumphantly.
"Well then," Professor Dumbledore said happily. "We all do need our rest. Goodnight, everybody."
Snape left with a slam of the door. Harry was puzzled. Hold on a sec... He turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Isn't Snape.. Erm... I mean... Professor Snape, staying here?" And Sirius is dead.
Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Not until he brings his guest here, too, Harry. I'm told he's very protective of her."
Harry rushed upstairs with Ginny, Ron and Hermione. Once they got to the boys room they all broke into wild giggles. "Is it possible," Ron gaped, "that Snape has a girlfriend?"
Hermione, whom was trying unsuccessfully to keep a straight face said: "It would make sense. He's single, well I think he is anyway; I've never seen a wedding band. Not only that but he has a good job, with high wages. I figure he would have one, a girlfriend I mean."
"Well Hermione," Ron laughed "that would make sense, if he wasn't such a mean git to everyone."
Hermione just sighed, and left muttering something that sounded suspiciously like boys.
The next day they were sitting around the kitchen table drinking butterbeer with Professor Dumbledore, when Mrs. Weasley came bustling in.
"Alright, you four." She said, addressing Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny. "Professor Snape has just gone to pick up Nalia from the muggle airport. Swear you'll be kind to her."
Ron looked at her curiously. "How old is she?"
"Your age."
Hermione, Ron, and Harry ogled at each other. Ron exclaimed, "That's sick!"
Mrs. Weasley's face turned red as a plump tomato. "RONALD WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU BE SO RUDE! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOUR PROFESSOR HAVING A DAUGHTER WHOM IS YOUR AGE?!?"
The trio looked at each other. Then burst out laughing. Thank god.
Later that day, Snape came into the kitchen where they were sitting with Dumbledore, Lupin and the twins.
"Introductions, Severus?" Dumbledore said kindly.
Snape coughed. "Nalia."
A young, and extremely beautiful girl stepped into the room. She had long black hair, that fell halfway down her back. She had inherited Snape's flashing dark eyes, and slightly sallow skin tone. (Although she had somewhat a tan.) Harry looked her over and saw she was wearing black denim jeans, over heavy black hikers. Falling halfway to her knees, was a red sleeveless jersey with a sports logo on the front. It was extremely form fitting, Harry noticed. He quickly deleted the thought from his mind. She's Snape's daughter, you idiot!
Snape bent in front of her for a moment then whispered: "I have to go." Nalia nodded grimly. Snape gently ran his fingers through her hair as he strode from the room.
Mrs. Weasley immediately started to fuss over her. "Oh, come and sit dear, you must be exhausted from your trip. We've saved lunch for you."
The girl gave a weak smile. She walked over to the table. "Ciao, Professor." She said lightly to Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore smiled.
"Ciao, Nalia. Molto lieto?" A.N.- Ciao: Hello, Molto lieto: How are you?
"Sentirsi bene." A.N.- Sentirsi bene: Good, (feeling)
Professor Dumbledore smiled again. "I think we need a translating charm."
Nalia looked around. "Tradurre?" A.N.- Tradurre: Translate
"Si." A.N. (Most could get this one)- Si: Yes
He pointed his wand at her and cried "Transelemente!"
Nalia smiled. Thank god she didn't inherit her father's teeth.
"Hi, everybody. I"m Nalia, Nalia Snape." She laughed. "Please don't tell my Dad I did that. He says translating charms are a cheap way of gaining knowledge. He's making me learn English the hard way." She made a face. "Bloody hard language, it is. Not my fault I didn't inherit his ability to speak like a Brit."
Mrs. Weasley put a plate down in front of her. "God bless you. I'm starving." Nalia sighed.
As the young Snape ate, she spoke freely of Venice and the house they owned there.
"Right beside one of the secondary canals, only a few blocks away from St. Marco's square. We used to go there every day after school, the waitress at the coffee house knows Dad on a first name basis. If you grow up near someone in Venice, you die near that person in Venice. Nobody leaves, the only way people find homes there is if the owners die, really."
Harry was quickly falling in love with all the places she was describing. Venice, Italy, with it's many bronze dragons and winged lions, all sitting on top of shining towers. Ancient stone, still being used. Nalia explained how their little house has been in the Snapinchiano family for over five hundred years.
"Cool. Hold on, Snapinchiano?" Ron said, looking puzzled.
Nalia sighed. "My Dad changed his last name when he came to Hogwarts. None of his teachers could say it, so they called him Snape. Evidently British pronunciation has improved."
After she had finished eating, they all went up to her room, Harry and Ron taking her trunk for her. Harry trudged up the stairs, the trunk seeming quite light due to his Quidditch training. That year it was said he would be allowed to take Seeker position again. The trunk also had a funny seal on it. It was an owl, white in color, sitting atop a branch with icicles hanging down. "Erm... What's this?" Harry asked.
Nalia looked back to see what he was referring to. "Iceberg's. Local magic school. Couple blocks from where we live. Really small, you've probably never heard of it."
"NEVER HEARD OF IT?" Ron gaped. "They've got the best bloody school Quidditch team in the world!" Nalia smiled at that. "Yes, I guess we do."
Hermione looked confused. "Why doesn't Professor Snape teach there?" Nalia answered. "Oh, he could. The Head said he'd accept in a split second if my Dad wanted to, but Dad wants to teach at Hogwarts. He says he might switch when he gets too old to apparate."
Harry watched Nalia walk in front of him, noticing other familiar things about her. She had also inherited Snape's wiry frame, and his sweeping way of motion. As she moved upwards on the staircase, she never tripped or stumbled. Each step she took seemed calculated and intricately placed. Rehearsed, even.
As they got to her room, the boys hesitated outside the door. "Oh grow up." Nalia said, giving them an exasperated look. "My Dad won't kill you, I promise," she let out a laugh as she led them in. "He isn't that over- protective."
Ron goggled. "So, your Dad's not, like, stupid?" Nalia gave him a queer look. "I mean, he wouldn't go crazy if you, lets say, dated someone he didn't approve of?"
Nalia laughed. "The last guy I went out with had long hair with green streaks, an earring, and a tattoo. My Dad is not, as you say, 'stupid'."
Ginny laughed. "You're trying to tell me that Professor Snape is like any other Dad." Nalia gave her a raised eyebrow. "Pretty much, only he's way easier on stuff like piercing. Says he doesn't want to procrastinate. He got a tattoo when he was twelve to drive my grandparents nuts. They hated doctors so they never would have made him go to get it removed."
After recovering from the shock of rule-abiding Snape getting a tattoo for the sole purpose of driving his parents insane, Ron laughed. "You don't even have your ears pierced." Nalia gave him a defiant look.
"Ron, from what you've seen of me, do you really think I would do something so... ordinary." She said it like a disgusting swear word.
"So," Ron said, leaning back in his chair "what did you do with this extraordinary freedom, Miss Unusual."
"Hey." Nalia said, pointing an accusing finger at him. "It's Miss Different to you, buster," she laughed, "I got a tattoo." At that point she lifted her jersey, just enough to show them her navel.
Her tattoo was black, an oriental dragon. It was very well drawn, seeming to cling to the flesh along the left side of her belly button. It's mouth was open, and out came a tongue of black flame, detailed in her normal skin tone. Although only about three inches in height and barely two from clawed toe to scaled foot across, it made a great impression on Harry's thoughts about her.
Harry now saw a lot more of Snape in her. His trademark stubbornness, a need to be defiant. To be, ordinary, seemed like water doused over the wildfire that flamed in her eyes. He had to admit, Snape wasn't at all ordinary.
Harry was broken out of his reverie by Hermione.
"It's still hard to imagine Snape, Professor Snape, a parent." Harry had to agree on that aspect, despite his recent revelation.
"Look," Nalia started, suddenly looking stern. "My Dad taught me that unless you act like yourself, you have nothing. He taught me that all you really have in life is your honor, your loyalty, and yourself. I admit, my Dad's... extreme sometimes. But he's always himself and you have to respect that. The only reason he gives up his traits is for the safety of others."
Just then everybody in the room looked at the clock, on it's place on the mantelpiece. They had sat and talked idly about home and school and Quidditch, until they ran out of topics. It was now two o'clock in the morning.
There was a soft knock on the door. "Come in." Nalia called.
Snape stepped in. "Goodnight," he said simply. He looked about to leave, when he noticed Harry and Ron. He tusked and said something in Italian. Although the boys had no idea exactly what he had said, they were clever enough to get the drift. Whatever he had said, it was enough to make Nalia say in plain English: "So how's Christi?" Snape glared, choosing again to make his reply in Italian. This time whatever he said made Nalia pick a book off of her table and throw it at him. He was out the door too quickly, though, and the book made a hollow sound as it hit the oak.
"I'm so sorry." She said, turning red. "We always tease each other like that. That was horrible of him."
Ron grinned. "We don't know what he said," a devilish grin appeared on his face. "But you could make it up to us by telling whom this 'Christi' might be." Nalia just laughed.
"My Dad does intelligence work for a government organization. She's his partner, he hasn't said anything, but I think there's something going on."
All that happened after that sentence was disgusted looks.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
Christi Ravaro sat in her favorite armchair, writing a mission report. She worked for the IIA, or the Italian Intelligence Association. This would have, should have, been a wonderful, exciting job. Except for the Mission reports, which seemed to get longer and more tedious as she moved up in rank. She looked proudly down at the ID that recognized her as a level one spy. Level one was the highest you could get, next to being Head, or the big boss.
She sighed, getting up as her partners footsteps faded. The only fun in staying in the Room of Commons doing reports was teasing Sev about the fact that he always had to fill up the report paper with full detail.
Her partner, Sev Snapinchiano, was also a level one. He took his job very seriously, though he never seemed able to complain when he was forced to dance with some rich, beautiful dame - for the good of the mission, of course. Those rich ones loved the "dark and mysterious" thing he had going on. The man was a perfectionist, and it annoyed Christi into oblivion. Her partner was fully aware of this, she knew. Yet it never seemed to stop him.
When they were alone, however, he was different. She had thought it strange, how his favorite phrase was 'Without yourself, you are no more than a mere clone.' Yet he could change so much from when they were around inferiors to when they were having some coffee or wine in her quarters.
When she had pointed this out to him, however, he simply said: "Mio amore, that is the way I am. That is myself. I refuse to be a clone."
Christi sighed. Mio Amore. My love.
He had not told Nalia yet, about their romance. Christi was constantly bugging him to. "The longer you wait, the more it'll hurt, Sev."
He had tried to be indifferent to her whining, but she had gotten to him in the end. She had told him "Sev, we need to tell her. She deserves to know."
He had sighed, suddenly looking like a scolded child. She ran her hands through his thick black hair in comfort. "I know. It's just... I remember after my Father... erm... you know... died, and Mother started dating, I felt replaced." She knew this was hard for him, speaking of both his feelings and his parents. "I don't want Nalia to feel that way." No child should have to go through that. Suddenly a flash of pictures came into her head - he was sending them (mentally) to her. He often did this, using his Legilimency to speak when words couldn't work.
A dark haired youth, watching a man standing over a crying woman, yelling...
Later, all people in the first picture but aged. The man advancing with his wand...
The dark youth coming behind the man with a dagger...
The man on the ground, a knife in his back...
Christi had sighed, and wrapped her arms around his neck.
She had placed herself in his lap, and then started to run her hands through the dark locks again and again, and he had tugged her blond ones playfully. She had whispered. "You had to do it, love. Because it was right. You couldn't have let him keep going like that. You said yourself, he would have killed her."
Recovering from her flashback, she remembered they had decided to celebrate a successful mission in her private sitting room, and deciding she wouldn't let such gloomy thoughts spoil it.. She'd promised to follow him when she could. "Well I can now." She sighed.
As she walked down the hallway, Christi thought about approaching Sev again, about telling Nalia about their romance. Sev was terrified that his beloved daughter would get angry with him. As he said: "She's all I've had for so long, Chris. I can't even stand when she starts crying, Merlin's beard."
She got to her door. Holding her ID up to the scanner, a mechanical voice said "Welcome home, Christina. Guest Severus Snapinchiano is waiting. Oblige?"
Christi suddenly got an evil thought of telling her computer not to oblige, and to kick him out, but her good side won over. "Yes, Dell. Oblige."
There was a small beep and the mechanical doors opened. Her computer would let anyone in if she wasn't there, but wouldn't let them out again without her permission. If she came back while they were there, Dell, as she had named it, would ask her to oblige if she said no, the computer would kick them out. If she were home, it would ask her if she wanted them there.
Her boyfriend, and partner, was sitting on her sofa. He smiled a little. "I heard that pause, that was the cattivo, eh?" A.N.- cattivo: evil
She stuck her tongue out at him, and then went in for the strike.
If there was one thing Christina Ravario knew how to do, it was handle Sev.
They had always had a deal. All (well most) of Christi's work in the field involved planning, and disarming the occasional bomb. Being a witch working for a muggle organization, (Sev hated most muggles, but he was a proud Italian, and wanted to fight for his country) she only used magic in the direst of cases. In a 'well worked' mission, neither used magic, and of course the assignment was completed.
If they had a 'well worked' mission, each would do the other a favor. Since there really was nothing Sev could do for a tired mind, he would take her out for dinner. She sighed. Sev's reward was really his only weakness, so he rarely let her reward him without a fight, and as you have guessed, most of Sev's work involved just that, fighting.
She poured them both a glass of wine. Carrying hers in one hand and his in the other, she slipped it into his fingers without protest. He sighed as he took a sip.
"Now." She said firmly. She kissed him.
He started to kiss her back, but stopped. "Mio amore," He sighed. "I really must leave."
She laughed, standing up with him. "You know that's not how it will go." She said. Sev laughed.
She continued, "I'll start to do this." She rubbed his shoulders. "And you'll start to melt..."
Christi could tell her dear Sev was trying to stay firm, but the fact was the man spent too much time stooped over a cauldron, and a massage was something he could little resist. Finally he groaned and sat back down.
She swept a pillow into her lap and ordered him to lie down. He did so obediently and started to say something, but she hushed him, pouring more wine into his glass.
"I'll blame you," He grumbled. "When I get home and Nalia goes:"(He mimicked a high, nagging female voice.)"Where have you been? Do you know what time it is? Oh, and I'm SURE the enemy spies didn't have a phone! I've been worried sick!" He went back to his own speech tones. "Who needs a nagging wife..." She was about to pinch him, but decided to go along with a pressure point on his neck she knew was particularly sensitive. He cringed.
"Promise me, you'll tell her." She said sternly in his ear, still thumbing the testy nerve. He sighed, through gritted teeth. "Alright. May I use some Floo Powder? I'm too tired to Apparate."
She smiled back. "Go ahead." He strode over to the mantle place and was gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were sitting with Nalia in her quarters. She had told them they didn't have to, that she was perfectly used to waiting up for her father alone. But they had all taken some of the Weasley stubbornness, from the respective family or not, and insisted. They could tell it made her feel better to have someone to talk to, as opposed to worrying about what could have happened to him, as his return times had a tendency to vary.
Again, there was a soft knock on the door, this time a little earlier than before.
"Nalia," Snape said quietly. "I need to speak with you." His tone hinted that he meant alone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
Nalia Snape sat there; mouth slightly open and muscles tense at the shock of what she had just heard. Dark, brooding eyes stared out at her, an uncharacteristically anxious look in them.
In the next moment, she had launched herself at her father. As she threw her arms around him, she felt him return the hug in a slightly shocked manner. Next he was stammering; "Your not... it's... your alright..."
Nalia looked at him. "Of course I am! I love Christi she's wonderful. And she's one of the Order's Italian contacts, isn't she? So, no secrets. That and the fact that it's about time."
Her father looked confused at this. "About time for what?"
Nalia looked at him funny again. "That you two, or, you anyway, realized how much you like each other. She's been flirting with you forever ... like a month."
Her father smiled. "I did notice that. That's why we're together now."
"Eww," Nalia said, making a face. "My dad knows how to flirt. Eww." Her father frowned.
"I wasn't always single, you know."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*
It was a week since Nalia had heard the news, and her father was going out again. This time by the look on his face, it was a very different out. This out was no little fight-for-your-country mission. This was the real thing. He looked at her grimly, as she sat on the couch that situated itself in front of the fire.
"I want you to wait for me at Christi's." He said. "I would feel much better..." Nalia was about to protest but- "Just humor your old father, alright? And anyway, I think you two should spend more time together, don't you think?" She sighed, and with a handful of Floo powder: "Christi's quarters, IIA junkyard," stepped into the fire.
Nalia enjoyed her time with Christi. She could talk to her Dad, but she couldn't talk to him. Girl talk. How cute Ewan McGregor looked in the Moulin Rouge movie, things like that. The thing that made her feel weird was hearing someone talking about her Dad in that way. Eech.
Nalia asked Christi the usual question. "Why do you like my Dad?" She had asked every girlfriend her father had ever had that same question. With every one of them, she had gotten "Dark, mysterious, intense... romance novel."
That is probably why Christi's answer surprised her. "Your Father," she'd sighed "is brave, intelligent, gentlemanly, and loyal. Yes, loyal. That's probably what drew me to him. If Severus Snapinchiano decides you are worth standing beside, he will put aside Heaven, Earth and Hell to do so. That is why I like your father."
Nalia had sat there, feeling slightly shocked. That was, of course, the way she felt about your father. It was also the reason she wanted to protect him. Her Dad had not had many girlfriends, but each had broken his heart. It was that undying loyalty that let people take advantage of him.
Finally, Christi spoke up, startling Nalia out of her reverie. "The Order meeting will be starting soon. We... we should go."
Nalia started. She'd forgotten about the meeting in the anticipation to see her father unhurt. They both walked over to the fireplace. "Old abandoned lot!"
They stepped out of an old muggle outdoor cookstove situated in the corner of an abandoned lot. Surrounded by trees, it was very safe from wandering muggle eyes. They walked down the street. As they came to twelve Grimmauld Place, each looked in either direction and went inside. They found the others in the upstairs sitting room. They knocked.
Moody cried "Come in" and the charms were temporarily lifted. They both stepped inside.
To Nalia's right, was (from closest to the far wall): Kerlikan, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, McGonagall, Mr Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Lupin. To her left, (from the wall towards her) was: Moody, Dumbledore, Fletcher, Kingsley, Tonks, Charlie Weasley and his brother Bill. The room was narrow, but quite long, with a fireplace at the end. On the left side, there was an empty armchair, identical to the ones that most were sitting in (along with long sofas, the younger ones had sprawled themselves on the floor to make room for their elders). Nalia knew they had left it for her father after he got back.
She and Christi took spots on the floor between the chair and Bill Weasley. After a few minutes, Nalia had started to worry; Moody waved his wand at the door.
Her father stepped in, looking shaky as he always did after going out. Nalia resisted the urge to run and hug him, knowing that it would only knock him over and embarrass him. They all waited as he lowered himself into his chair, wincing as he did so. The room sat in shocked silence and Dumbledore gave a small, "Oh my," as her father lifted his face, revealing a paler complexion than usual, and rapidly blinking, extremely bloodshot eyes and a rapidly twitching hand. Everyone in the room knew, perhaps with the exception of Ginny, that this was a sure sign of someone who had been crucio'ed.
Mrs. Weasley got up to get him a bit of potion that would heal the pain. Nalia got up to help her. She had made that potion many times before.
Down in the kitchen she found Ron's mum already had some made, just in case. She loaded a tea tray, as she always did in meetings, hating hearing the report. She also put the small vile of red liquid for her dad.
After they got back, the report had finished. They were currently discussing tactics for getting someone into Malfoy Manor without rousing suspicion. Nalia reclaimed her spot beside Bill Weasley and Mrs. Weasley handed out tea. (Adding the red potion to her father's. "Thank you," he whispered quietly.)
After the meeting, both Christi and Nalia went back to her Father's quarters with him. As he sat down on the sofa in front of the fire, Nalia finally got her chance to hug him. Wrapping her arms around him and sitting down, he returned it gratefully. Regaining some of her old pizzazz, Nalia glanced suggestively between them and said goodnight.
Getting into bed that night, Nalia was suddenly thankful for Christi. She stared up at her ceiling and thought of all the times she'd wondered who would take care of her father when she started to work. Her main plan had always been to go and work for the IIA. Obviously her father wouldn't be old enough to retire, but when he did get to old to take care of himself, now she knew Christi would take care of him. Stop him from doing anything stupid. Hopefully. Not many women are brave enough to take on the challenge. Rather like training an eagle for a songbird. And he would apparate from IIA Headquarters to get to Hogwarts and continue to teach. Lovely.
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Severus Snape lay in his room in Black house, his head resting in the lap of his lady, feeling extremely content. He sat up and gently kissed her, holding her close to him after, sitting in quiet bliss at her warmth.
Nalia was getting along with everyone, he himself had avoided Potter and his friends, all was good. As much as he missed Venice, his home for his entire life, it was enjoyable here. As always, he found himself feeling guilty over Black's death. As was the case with James Potter, he had despised the man, but he'd never wanted him dead. He had of course gotten over his absurd crush on Lily after she'd married James. He had still been oddly attached to her. He had also blamed himself completely for her death. If he had only gotten there sooner... if only he had figured who it was the Dark Lord was after a day before...
He fell asleep with these dark thoughts in his shadowed mind, on the sofa, with Christi still in his arms. Yet somehow they seemed separate, distant, numb. As though, from behind some strange shield. It's amazing what love can do.
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Molly Weasley knocked on the door, a call had just come for Professor Snape on the telephone, a contraption Dumbledore had insisted on bringing into headquarters, much less easy to track by magic.
She knocked again. "Professor Snape?" She opened the door a crack, and saw him lying on the couch, his lady friend in his arms, both still asleep. She smiled, and held the muggle device up to her ear, "I'm sorry, he's busy." And softly shut the door.
Author's note:~ Ok, thanks to everybody who read this. This is my first story and I'm VERY proud. *Grin* :D
Thank-you as always to KayDog, my dear friend and permanent beta, whom kept me from losing interest in this and starting yet ANOTHER one. I apologize to anyone whom was offended by Nalia's use of the word "Brit" No racism or offense was meant. I also apologize to all Italians whom are reading my horrid grammar as it mauls their beautiful language. I tried, I REALLY did!!!