The History of Half a Prince

The History of Half a Prince

Chapter 3

News of my mother's death didn't reach me until half of my first year at the school had already passed. My grandparents, I suppose, hadn't thought I needed to know that soon, though it had happened just a week into my first year.

Ever since that night that I had received those looks from Potter and his best friend Black, I had become moody and reserved. My housemates found something undesirable about me, and I had no friends. Instead, I checked out books from the library on potions, spells and hexes, practicing them in secret. These became my companions; the books, potions, and spells I immersed myself in were my only love.

I put up with those in my house, especially those with a high status among the others. Most of all, Lucius Malfoy, who was a seventh year and Head Boy. He was polite and an excellent student. He was a gentleman among the girls. One thing, however, stood out over every other aspect of him: his utter disgust in the Muggles and those that associated with them. He disliked any Muggleborns and half-bloods. I was glad that I hadn't mentioned my heritage to anyone, though I detested it myself. I had long since negated my father's memory and came to embrace only the pure blood that came from my mother's side of the family. Not one of my housemates knew or would ever come to know of my true heritage.

The day I learned of my mother's fate, I had been immersed in a large textbook on potions far too advanced for a boy just halfway through his first year. These potions were simple to me and I wondered if most who couldn't concoct them were just stupid. Someone came to stand behind me and I didn't need to look up to know it was Malfoy.

"Severus," he said, his proper demeanor showing in the way he articulated each of his words. "Professor McGonagall is looking for you. She says she has news about your mother."

I had only been half listening, but my attention became full at the mention of my mother. I shut the textbook and slid it onto the table before me before looking up at him.

"Where's McGonagall?"

"Waiting outside," he answered before making his way to a group of friends he'd just noticed.

I sighed and made my way over to the door, pulling it open. McGonagall stood at the opposite end of the hall, intent on a large painting of a group of wizards playing a game of cards. I cleared my throat to make my presence known. She spun around slowly and looked down at me, a certain pity in her eyes.

"Mr. Snape," she said, her tone mirroring that annoying pitying look that continued to grow.

"Professor," I said, realizing instantly what the news must have been. "She's dead, isn't she?"

McGonagall frowned and slowly nodded.

I should have realized. She was so weak after we'd arrived at her parents' house, though she put on a brave front. I think that I knew deep down that she wouldn't be with me very long, but I hadn't thought she'd leave me so soon.

"Mr. Snape."

McGonagall's voice cut into my thoughts and I looked up at her expectantly though a little annoyed.

"She's been dead for sometime," she continued. "Just a week into the school year. Your grandmother has just recently gotten around to alerting us. She sent this along for us to give to you."

She took out a small envelope from her pocket and handed it to me. I nodded, anger rising in me as I realized that my grandparents hadn't thought it important enough to let their daughter's son know of his mother's death. My hand clenched around the letter as I thought of things I could do to them for causing me more pain, but I soon felt a pressure on my shoulder and was pulled out of my reverie to find McGonagall's hand there.

"If you need someone to talk to, Severus," she said sincerely. I shook my head. I didn't need help from anyone. Not my mother's parents, not McGonagall or the other teachers, not Dumbledore. I was on my own and I would stay that way. All that had happened to me had taught me one thing and one thing only. Relying on people only made you disappointed and weak. I wouldn't be weak. I had to be strong. For my mother, for myself.

I thanked McGonagall and made my way to the Slytherin common room down in the dungeons. Several students called a greeting and I merely waved back as I crossed the room to the dormitories. Entering the dormitories designated for first years, I threw myself on my bed, glad that the room was empty except for myself. Not bothering to open the envelope neatly, I pulled out the folded parchment, opening it and let my eyes take in the short note.

Severus,

We decided that we should let you know that our daughter has passed on and we have been too busy lately to get the news to you. We would have had you at the funeral but we didn't think Eileen would have liked you getting out of school for a little thing like a funeral. She was all about studies coming first over everything else.

We are writing, however, to see if it is possible for you to stay over at the school for the summer rather than return here, because we don't have the room. We only allowed you to stay while Eileen was alive because we knew she wanted you with her. With her gone, however, we cannot have a rambunctious teenage boy in our home. We are far too old to deal with you, even if only during the summer. If you cannot stay at the school, ask a classmate if you can stay with them and their family. Let them know that we are willing to pay their parents for your keep.

~ Allyson Helena Prince

Tears obscured my vision as I crumpled the letter in my hands, throwing it across the room where it hit the wall and fell to the ground. I couldn't believe they could be so heartless. Just because I had been born out of wedlock to a man who was a Muggle. They were as bad as him, if not worse. I would definitely ask to stay at the school over the summer. I wouldn't return to their home, not even if I was forced. I took my pillow into my hands and buried my head into it, crying for my mother. It would be the last time I ever allowed myself to cry.

-----

"Professor Dumbledore, do you think I could stay here over the summer? My grandparents don't want me in their house now that my mother is gone."

Dumbledore looked at me for a long moment, not speaking a single word. I sat in the chair before his desk, annoyed that he was taking so long to answer. Finally, he picked up the bowl on his desk, which he'd filled with Muggle sweets called Lemon Drops, and offered it to me. I promptly declined and he placed it back down with a sigh.

"I cannot believe that your grandparents do not want you in their home, especially after their daughter has passed on."

I had a feeling that he wouldn't believe me and produced the note I had picked up, smoothing it out and handing it to him. He skimmed it over and raised a brow.

"I see," he said, going over it once more, as if he thought his eyes had deceived him. "Well, you see, Severus. We have never let a student stay over the summer at Hogwarts. The teachers don't live here over the summer holidays. If you cannot find someone to stay with, then I will have to write a note to your grandparents."

My hands clenched and I shook my head.

"No sir, that'll be unnecessary," I said. "I will ask Lucius Malfoy if I can stay with him over the summer."

For a moment, Dumbledore looked like he wanted to object, but he then nodded.

"As long as he agrees," he said, "I see no problem with it."

"Thank you, sir," I said, rising to my feet. I left the office and made my way to the common room once more, scouting out the seventh year. He agreed to let me stay in his new apartment with him, for which his parents were paying, and I was relieved that I wouldn't be forced back with my mother's parents. I would never see nor hear from them again.

My mother's father died the following fall, and my mother's mother died a month later from heartache. I didn't attend either of their funerals, or visit their graves.

Summer passed by uneventfully, and then I started my second year at Hogwarts.