Unwanted

Fear not, Fear not, this venom hot,

You think it deadly but it is not,

Thou shall withstand, longer and longer,

What does not kill us makes us stronger.

Nalia Snape sighed. People would think that being at the headquarters of a secret organization bent on destroying the most evil-corrupted being on the planet would be exciting. Well, it would be. That is of course IF the villain was bothering to do any evil. Humph. The nerve.

Just to make it worse, she was starting to miss Venice terribly. The soft lap of the canal water, the smell of the Adriatic Sea... The gondola boys' soft, honeyed voices as they sang for tourists. Tourists. She even almost missed them and their cries of "Ooh, look! A REAL Italian!"

If she were in a bad mood she would reply: "No! I'm fake!"

She also missed doing magic. In Venice, the entire city had been built by magic, so the overlays were so thick a toddler could murder a few people and the Ministry wouldn't know about it. So obviously underage magic hadn't been a problem. One thing, at least, was making this bearable. That hunky Harry Potter, with his brilliant green eyes and dark, thoughtful appearance. Nalia knew her dad would have a fit.

Sharing a Pensieve with her father, she had caught glimpses of what James had done to him. She knew what his reaction would be if she dated him.

"Which is why you have NO feelings for him. None!"

Of course there were no feelings. None. Squat. Why should SHE, have feelings for... HIM! Ridiculous, insane, insubordinate... completely irrational, absolutely so, how could such a thing happen.

She laid thinking about all of this, her life, her father, and her unknown mother... (But not HIM!)

Nalia shared a room, a large room, mind you, with Hermione and Ginny. At this time, the Later of the two came in and dragged her out of her reverie with whining about Harry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the training room of the ISS, where the junior agents learned to fight, Christi Ravaro was teaching. The ability to fight with you fists is a very important virtue for an agent, and training is rigorous. Sparring, or light contact fighting, is one of the best ways to instill ideas.

Christi watched as Sev sparred with a trainee, a little girl with a mop of red hair she constantly threw in his face as a distraction. It worked, because she was currently sitting on his chest, she laughed as he squirmed underneath her.

Suddenly the other trainees came to help the redhead and soon he had at least three of the youths on his chest. He choked. "Alright... you win... CAN'T BREATH..." They got off. "Thank you... appreciated..."

He gets back up, still gasping.

"Curatore! You're getting old!" cried the redhead, and got a nice glare for it.

It was late, for they were training the advanced class. Their trousers were black and the sashes around their waists are red. The advanced class was right below becoming full agents. Early in the morning every Saturday Sev and her trained firsts, then seconds, then intermediates, finally advanced.

Once those students left, she and Sev sparred on their own, each circling with wicked grins. Christi stepped forward quickly, and before he had time to dodge, grabbed his face and kissed him. His eyes widened, then relaxed. In this slight moment of weakness, She spun and threw him on the ground. Severus gave a small choke as the wind was knocked out of him. Christi grinned and got up, then helped her partner.

"Monica's right, you know," she said with a grin. "You are getting old, or soft, anyway."

He made a face at her, and she stuck out her tongue.

At that he just rolled his eyes, and gave her his Oh-that's-just-so-very-mature look. Sometimes that look made her raging mad, others like this one it made her laugh.

They cleaned up and left to have some wine.

*********

After rampaging about wool-headed boys, Ginny had now moved on to her mum. Nalia sat and listened.

"Honestly, how DARE she try to stop us from going to meetings! I've had Lord Voldy in my HEAD, and she thinks she's all high-and-mighty because none of the idiots in their can take DICTATION by themselves!"

Nalia had to agree, for she knew that even Harry and such wouldn't be able to attend meetings if her Dad didn't let her. Molly Weasley had only barely veiled what she thought of Severus' parenting skills. She treated Nalia like some poor little orphan given to her, and put herself in the place of Saint-Voldemort's-eyeteeth-Mary. Nalia knew she didn't like her freedom, and the way she talked to her Dad. Not many adults did. She listened to Ginny until she couldn't take it. She interrupted.

"Oh Ginny, don't you see? How lucky you are? I love my Dad Gin, I really do, but what else do I know? He's all I have. All I ever had, all I remember. You have your mum, who loves you, and your Dad, who's a really sweet man. Confused, but sweet. You want to know who my mum is? Ask around, and tell me when your done, cause I sure as hell don't know. I haven't the heart to ask my dad."

She looked over at Ginny and saw her friend sitting in shocked silence.

"When I was little, I would ask questions. Was she pretty? Did you love her? The answer was the same. 'Yes, she was pretty, but it didn't help her much.' 'At one time, darling, I loved her.' Never a name, never a letter. She basically had me and Fed-Ex-ed me to my Dad. My Dad and his best friends raised me. I have three Uncles and two Aunts that are only that by title. I'm not really related to them. That's my family." She hadn't realized they weren't alone. Sitting in armchairs were Harry, Ron, and Hermione. All present were gaping at her.

Hermione's face softened, and Nalia spat. "And don't none of you flipping pity me, either!"

*****

"Dad?" A small voice came to Severus' ears as he stoked the fire in his room. "What is it... my dear?" he added to make the sentence less cold.

"I need to talk."

The serious tone in Nalia's voice told him this was the coming, the coming of the conversation he had avoided having for a long time. His thoughts of his little girl's... "No." He reminds himself. "Not a little girl anymore. That's why she must know. She can handle it. I hope." "You know she can." Came a voice in his head. "But can you?"

Severus desperately wished her to be a three year old again, asking for stories after a nightmare. "But this is my nightmare, not hers."

Nalia opened her mouth, but Severus cuts her off. "I know. What questions do you have about her?"

"Lets start with a name."

"Your mother's name," he sighs "Is Bellatrix. Her maiden name was Black, but she later married and became Lestrange."

***

Yes, it broke Nalia's heart to see her Dad like he was now, hunched and tired-looking. His black eyes not cold, and not gleaming as they sometimes were, but empty, like the last blow of a dying warrior. But she had to know. Must know.

"She's a Death Eater."

"One of the foremost. Before you ask, I loved your Mother before we... Ah, well, you understand. She was the reason I joined. Later, after all those t-terrible things happened, I realized my mistake. I went to Dumbledore. Took her with me. There I realized she was not trustworthy, but she knew I was a spy. We wiped her memory. Gave her some other excuse for breaking up. However I didn't know... well, later I got you. It was a very happy day."

Nalia sat there, stunned. All her life questions, answered in a few simple sentences. How? Why? WHAT? Nalia felt her mind trying to commit suicide for all the confusing questions. She gaped a little.

Finally, she sighed. Seeing the look in her Dad's eyes, she said, "Dad, I'm not mad at you. Thank-you. I n-need this to sink in." And she left.

*****

Harry sighed. He was having trouble figuring out his feelings. Due to Nalia's wish, he didn't pity her. Instead, he admired her. He even found the tiniest hint of respect for Snape. It must have been hard, raising a child like that. Particularly a child like that one. And Nalia loved him; she really did, as unbelievable as that might be. "Makes you think the world can't be that bad."

Nalia suddenly burst into the room. "Harry," She said. "I'm bored. And Homesick. Would you like to visit Venice? We leave in five minutes, I've written a note, meet us by the front door."

This amazing onrush of vocabulary left Harry stunned for a few minutes. Then it all caught up with him. "Venice?" And he ran off after the Italian girl like he had Voldemort's boss on his tail.

As he trotted towards the abandoned lot, where the Flew network connected, Harry couldn't help but notice again how ... shapely Nalia was. Dingbat, he ought not think like that. Snape would kill him.

*****

"Snapinchiano Manor, Venice." Nalia said, just before shoving Ginny through the cook stove. As the heat of the flames and the redness of her hair blended in Ginny's vision, the youngest Weasley felt the familiar spinning sensation that accompanied Flu.

Was she ever exited to go to Venice! Hardly remembering not to move, she nearly hopped up and down with excitement. Before Ginny's thoughts could continue, however, the fireplace spit her out onto a dark hardwood floor. A woman with black hair was sitting on the couch, reading by the light filtering through the window. She looked up in shock as Ginny's righted herself and brushed the ashes off her clothes. They stared in shock at each other, when suddenly...

*****

The fireplace spit Nalia out, and she gave a small moan and she bashed clear into some solid object that she didn't remember being in front of the fireplace back home.

The object toppled easily, revealing...

Ginny, lying on the floor looking shocked.

"Hello Aunty!" Nalia cried cheerfully, looking up and the woman in the chair as she helped Ginny off the living room floor for the second time that day. "How're you?" The woman's smile spread, far wider than any mouth had a right to go. "I be doin' fine, dear. She is your friend?"

"Yes Aunty." Nalia said quietly, "From the place me an' Dad are staying."

Nalia's Aunty Cherry stood up, and with a clap said: "Right! Best you two get away from that fireplace before another of your little friends decides to join us!" Nalia and Ginny stepped away just in time, right before Harry came through. Closely following was Hermione, then Ron.

As all of the British teens looked about nervously, Nalia sighed. It was good to be home.

*****

Harry was feeling oddly like a worm in a bird's nest. This woman was Nalia's Aunt, making her Snape's sister. Something tugged at Harry's memory at that, but oddly he couldn't put his finger on it. All he knew is that this place was undoubtedly full of dark magic.

Yet strangely it looks absurdly normal so far...

***

Severus Snape walked into the kitchen to the unpleasant sound of Molly Weasley ranting. "Left, without so much as a by-your-leave!"
"Who's left?" Severus drawled, taking pleasure in Molly's jump.

"Severus..." She murmured breathlessly. "I didn't hear you... The children! They've left, to god-knows-where... Severus picked up a note on the counter with his name scrawled across it. As he read, he sighed. Despite the fact that he spent the next ten minutes trying to get the facts out, Molly refused to so much as catch a kind breath

"MOLLY!" He finally yelled. She stopped in shock. "Nalia has taken the children to Venice, by flu. She's been terribly homesick, and asked them to join her."

"YOU!"

Severus had no idea of what she was talking about, only that she was blaming him. He only managed a startled "Sorry...?" Before she began to rant again.

"YOUR GIRL! I DON'T CARE IF YOU THINK IT IS ALL RIGHT FOR HER TO GO GALLAVANTING OFF AROUND EUROPE, BUT I EXPECT HER TO LEAVE MINE OUT OF IT! A NOTE! A NOTE! A CROSS CONTINENTAL FLU AND SHE LEAVES A NOTE! IT ISN'T HER FAULT, I KNOW, THAT YOU NEVER TELL HER NO, BUT MUST YOUR BAD PARENTING PUT MY CILDREN IN DANGER? HOW DARE YOU!"

At first Severus stood in shock, then a fire of anger consumed him, a fire that had been there since he was a child, had watched his Father die with a knife in his back. For god's sakes, he'd seen every parenting mistake in the book!

He put on the icy tone he usually used for students. "I appreciate your honesty of opinion of my parenting skills, Mrs. Weasley, but I ask you keep them to yourself from now on. I am very proud of my daughter, and the way she's turned out. If you feel this way, perhaps you should take a stroke at single-parenting a child of the opposite gender. I have always told my daughter a note is good enough, as long as I know where she is. I know where they are, there is an adult there, and I see no problem. If you wish to keep YOUR children on apron strings, so be it, but leave mine and my parenting skills out of it. If you wish to retrieve your children, I will take you there, but first I wish to remind you that the poor children are nearly adults, and that you will do nothing but embarrass Ron and Ginny if you storm in screaming.

*****

Nalia first looked relieved then exited to Harry's eyes. "Come! I'll show you around."

Harry walked behind her, sure to avert his eyes from her movements.

She gestured at a set of stone steps, "Down there's my Dad's lab, don't go down if you want to come back." They went up some wooden stairs. Up here was a library, and five bedrooms, though only two looked used. One more floor up was all unused bedrooms, and finally up a very narrow set of creaky wood stairs was a room full of gauzy curtains, an attic, all deep reds, pinks, oranges and yellows.

A rose-colored canopy bed sat in one corner, next to a window with dusty light filtering between the veils. Harry suddenly felt like he'd entered Aladdin's cave.

"My room!" Nalia exclaimed happily, falling onto the bed.

It occurred to Harry that he hadn't seen any dark magic yet, and guessed he had been wrong about Snape. Perhaps.

*****

It was not until eight o'clock that evening that the children returned.

Molly was unhappy.

Nalia was unhappy at Molly for being upset.

Ever wonder what would happen if Tsunami met Hurricane Helen? The best descriptions are sometimes only a few words long.

*****

Nalia lay in bed that night, tears wetting her pillow. As much as she disliked Molly Weasley, the horrified look on the older woman's face had gotten to her.

"How dare you put my children in such danger, young lady? You ought to be ashamed."

"Well I'm not. I have a name so use it."

"Well, NALIA," Molly Weasley spat. "I hope you're happy. You nearly got Harry and all of my children killed."

"Excuse me? As far as I remember, no Death Eaters attacked. Or did you expect them to come for tea?" A low blow, Nalia knew, but true all the same. "My Dad's a flipping SPY, don't you think we might have a tad bit of protection in our house?"

"NO WARNING!"

"I left a note."

"A NOTE! A NOTE! A note, for a cross-continental Flu?"

"Isn't any harder to do than an cross-street flew."

"Maybe such a pathetic excuse for a plan is good enough in your house, but for my children, I expect a little more responsibility."

"Did it ever occur to you that they're tired of being YOUR children? That they might want to be THEY'RE OWN PERSON? And you want to here about responsibility, well, let me tell you about it. I go to school, I split cleaning with my dad, and I do the grocery shopping. I also cook from time-to time, every second day, in fact. Face it; you're big happy family isn't as happy as you thought, and that my little-happy family seems to be working out just fine. And don't you dare flipping pity me, either!"

And with that she'd left the room.

***

Severus Snape felt a little guilty about it, but he was proud of his daughter for telling that Weasley woman off. What had made Molly even more upset was Severus' lack of reaction when Nalia came in.

That still gave her no right to go after his daughter, or bringing his parenting skills into it.

Severus didn't know why, but he always had a hard time telling Nalia "no". Yet this didn't bother him, for after the situation was over with, he found "no" would have been unnecessary.

He had other things to worry about.

Despite assurances, Severus was still nervous about Nalia and Christi getting along. He knew Nalia could be... protective, to say the least, as backwards as that sounds.

He could remember her interrogating dates as young as two. (Severus thought this unfair, as he rarely asked questions.) Then again, she had only dated a few boys, and he had known then since they were learning to walk.

Jeremy, for instance. Slowly, as he grew, Severus had watched him accumulate more holes in his face, not to mention green hair. Yet he was a good kid. Severus could only imagine what would have happened to himself if, say, Albus had judged him by appearance when he was a child. He had never even told Nalia this, but he had had twenty piercing by the age of fifteen. Four on each ear, his tongue, his nose, the base of his bottom lip, his eyebrow, and (just to be creative,) four along each shoulder blade.

He used to turn them invisible for classes, and let people see them otherwise. His head-of-house, Professor Dialgo, had never said anything aside from: "Snape, now why would you poke holes in yourself? Surely not to show you're brave." She had said it teasingly, suggesting Gryffindore-ish behavior. "No," He had replied, "I'm no coward, Professor, but I'm no Gryffindore either. 'The opposite of courage is not fear, but conformity.' More than any of those things, I'm no clone."

Never a clone.