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Always By Your Side by morgaine_dulac [Reviews - 3]

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Chapter XXI: Introducing Demeter Snape

‘Firs’-years! Firs’-years over here!’

Demeter’s eyes widened in surprise as she caught sight of the giant who was standing on the platform, holding a lamp in his hand and calling for all the first-years. Her mother had of course told her about gamekeeper Rubeus Hagrid, and she had read about him, but still Demeter had not been prepared for his sheer size.

What else was she not prepared for, she wondered, swallowing hard and feeling as if she didn’t belong there on the platform in Hogsmeade. She felt as if she knew nothing of the world she had entered only two days ago. And she definitely did not feel like a witch. She was an ordinary girl who had been brought up in a secluded Icelandic village. She had been happy there. What had ever made her think that this world, the Wizarding world, was where she actually belonged?

She started chewing her lip, and her eyes searched the platform for a mop of blond hair. She and Melvin had been separated when they had left the train, and right now, without her new friend and guide at her side, Demeter felt very, very alone.

But she wasn’t alone.

‘Would you look at the size of that man!’ her other new friend, Sarah, suddenly exclaimed to Demeter’s right. It was obvious that she had never before seen such a big man either.

‘That is Hagrid,’ Demeter explained, somewhat glad about Sarah’s lack of knowledge as it meant that there was something that she could explain. ‘He’s a half-giant. That’s why he is so big. And he will escort us to Hogwarts.’

‘Half-giant?’ Sarah seemed terrified. ‘If he’s a half-giant, how big is a real one?’

‘About the size of half the Hogwarts Express.’

Neither of the girls had noticed Melvin approaching, they had been so busy staring at Hagrid. But there he was now, grinning.

‘I’m kidding,’ he added. ‘I have never seen a real giant.’

‘Firs’-years, over here now.’

‘I guess you’d better go,’ Melvin pointed out as Hagrid’s voice once more echoed over the platform. ‘I’ll see you at Hogwarts. And who knows, maybe you’ll get Sorted into Slytherin. In that case, I’ll see you in the common room later.’

‘What House to you reckon you’ll be Sorted into?’ Sarah asked Demeter in a low voice as they, along with the other first-years, followed Hagrid down a deep and narrow path. Whispering felt appropriate, as no one else was speaking. All their peers seemed to share their feelings, a strange mixture of anticipation and fright, and it made them very silent.

Demeter shrugged. ‘Both my parents were in Slytherin,’ she answered quietly. ‘I guess I might be Sorted into Slytherin as well.’

‘Would you want that?’

Once more, Demeter shrugged. She really didn’t know. Part of her was convinced that being Sorted into Slytherin would make her parents proud. But she also had a nagging feeling that her mother would not approve. There was something about her mother’s eyes every time she spoke about Slytherin. They seemed to darken somehow.

Demeter was spared having to answer as the group came to a sudden halt at the edge of a great black lake, and her eyes were captured by the enormous castle that stood perched on top of a high mountain on the other shore.

Hogwarts. Countless turrets and towers, hundreds of illuminated windows that reflected on the smooth surface of the Black Lake. Demeter felt her breath catch in her throat. This was for sure the most beautiful sight she had ever laid eyes upon. And judging from the awed silence that had fallen over the group of first-years, she figured that she was not the only one captured by the magic and beauty of Hogwarts castle.

~ ~ ~

Morgaine was edgy to say the least and delaying her ascent to the Great Hall as long as possible. She just had to check the storeroom one more time to make sure that all the ingredients she needed for the first week of teaching had arrived. She just had to check that all the workbenches were clean and fully equipped. She just had to ... do something.

Her talking to Severus had anything but eased her mind. Oh, she had imagined her returning to Hogwarts differently. She had hoped he would tell her that he had missed her as much as she had missed him. She had hoped he would have learnt more magic over the summer. She had hoped that he would touch her. Heavens, how she had missed his ghostly caress. But instead, she had spoiled their reunion by bringing him bad news. And his silence on the topic of Lucius Malfoy had just added to her fears and confirmed that Lucius was indeed up to something.

‘So you have returned. We were just about to send out a search party.’

Morgaine spun around and came face to face with Minerva McGonagall. She had not heard the Headmistress enter her classroom, so deeply had she been absorbed in her thoughts.

‘Minerva, I was just ...’

‘Trying to look busy so no one would notice how nervous you are about your daughter coming to Hogwarts?’

Morgaine gave a short laugh, shaking her head at her own silly behaviour. Yes, Demeter arriving at Hogwarts was another reason why she was hiding in the dungeons. She was indeed nervous.

Minerva’s otherwise so stern face lightened up with a smile. ‘I cannot even imagine how it must feel to have your child arriving at Hogwarts,’ she pointed out. ‘I have known many of our students since they were babies, and it is always exciting to see them get Sorted. But your own child ...’

Minerva broke off and seemed suddenly terribly interested in one of the cauldrons that stood on a workbench in front of her, and Morgaine could not help but wonder why the old woman had never married, why she had never had any children. But she felt that it was not her place to ask.

‘I spoke to Severus,’ Minerva continued after clearing her throat. ‘He said he will not be coming up to the Great Hall for the feast.’

‘Does that surprise you, Minerva?’ Morgaine asked. ‘He has always hated spending time in the Great Hall.’

‘Yes, I know that,’ Minerva pointed out. ‘But this is different. Your daughter ...’

‘Severus and I have agreed that coming to Hogwarts and being Sorted is enough stress,’ Morgaine interrupted the Headmistress. ‘Demeter does not need a ghost staring at her in the Great Hall. And most of all, she does not need the other students noticing.’

Minerva huffed impatiently. ‘Severus would not have to materialise. He must be curious. He must want to meet her. He ...’

‘He will meet her,’ Morgaine said softly. ‘After the Sorting, I will take Demeter to meet her father.’

‘They can meet in my office,’ Minerva offered at once. ‘We would not want to send the child down to the dungeons. It is too gloomy down here.’

‘Not send her down to the dungeons?’ Morgaine cocked an eyebrow at the Headmistress. ‘So you think that Demeter will not follow in her parents’ footsteps and be Sorted into Slytherin?’

Now it was Minerva’s turn to raise her eyebrows. ‘My dear child,’ she started. ‘Severus’ bravery and nerve as well as yours have always outweighed your cunning and ambition. If your daughter is to follow in your footsteps, she will be Sorted into Gryffindor.’

~ ~ ~

The oddest sensation washed over Demeter as Professor Flitwick opened the pair of double doors that led to, as he had said, the Great Hall. Part of her wanted to jump up and down with excitement and skip through those doors in the same manner she used to skip through her great-grandmother’s kitchen door to greet the first snow every year. But another part of her wanted to run back to the tiny room where she and the other first-years had been waiting for Flitwick to return. Or even better, run out of the castle and back to Hogsmeade, board the train and never come back. And those conflicting feelings seemed to make it hard for her to remember how to put one foot in front of the other. How she would make it all the way down the Great Hall without tripping, Demeter had no idea.

‘I hope they have a bucket up there,’ Sarah whimpered. ‘I’m so nervous I’m going to throw up.’

‘Me too,’ said a tough-looking boy with spiky brown hair, and several other first-years nodded in agreement.

‘There, there, no need to be nervous,’ Professor Flitwick squeaked, smiling at them all. ‘Those students sitting in there might all look smug now, but I can point out one or two who were green in their faces before their Sorting. So don’t worry. No one will laugh at you or anything. They know how it feels.’

Professor Flitwick’s kind words lent momentary comfort, but when the first-years walked through the Great Hall, all Demeter wanted to do was pull up her hood and hide. Everyone in the hall was staring, it seemed. And not at her peers in general but at her in particular.

Rubbish, Demeter chided herself. Your father might have been a famous man, and you might resemble him, but not everyone in this hall knew your father and notices the similarities. There are many people with black hair, even in the Wizarding world. So will you get a grip, for goodness’ sake!

She took a deep breath and looked up just in time to spot Melvin, who smiled, winked and gave her the thumbs up. But as Demeter tried to smile back, she found that the corners of her mouth did not seem to want to do as she wanted them to. Her lips were tightly pursed together, and she feared that she would indeed throw up if she as much as attempted to smile. So she lowered her head again and did not look up until she was standing right in front of the High Table. And the first thing she caught sight of was a pair of kind blue eyes.

Demeter swallowed and noticed at once that the lump in her throat had all but disappeared. And she also noticed that her lips had curled into a smile at the sight of her mother. Oh, she looked beautiful. And it was not because of the expensive looking emerald green robes. Demeter could not quite put her finger on it. Her mother’s face was pale, and she looked stern and severe. But still. Something made her look beautiful tonight. Suddenly, Demeter came to think of roses. They looked beautiful in a delicate vase in the kitchen, but never as breathtaking as they looked in the garden, where they belonged. Was that it? Was it because her mother was where she belonged now, in the Wizarding world, that she looked so beautiful tonight?

One after one, the first-years were Sorted into their Houses: Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Sarah was Sorted into Gryffindor, and the boy with the spiky hair into Slytherin. A pair of twins boys were both Sorted into Hufflepuff, and the girl whose owl had somehow managed to get out of its cage on the train was Sorted into Ravenclaw.

Demeter started chewing nervously on her lower lip. If she still carried her mother’s name, she would have been Sorted a while ago, she thought. But Snape started with an s. And that meant that she had to wait.

Smith, Kathryn was Sorted into Hufflepuff and Smithers, Peter into Ravenclaw. Soon it would be her turn. Demeter sank her teeth deeper into her lip.

‘Snape, Demeter.’

Suddenly, Demeter felt the eyes of hundreds of people on her. The teachers had of course known her father, and most of the students had once studied under Professor Snape. But very few of them had known that he had had a daughter. Naturally, they were all curious to know if she had inherited anything more from him other than her looks. Understandable, but still Demeter wished they would not stare.

My parents have both been in Slytherin, Demeter thought as the Sorting Hat was placed on her head. Would it make them proud if I were Sorted into their House?

‘Where do you want to belong?’

Demeter did not even flinch as the Sorting Hat’s voice crept into her ear. She had never met a talking hat before, of course, but somehow, it seemed natural.

I want to make my parents proud, Demeter thought. I have been told that my father has once been the pride of Slytherin. I want him to like me.

‘I see talent,’ the hat’s little voice said. ‘Your gift of making things grow and prosper would earn you the admiration of Professor Sprout. But I doubt you have the spirit of a Hufflepuff. You are too passionate, too fierce.’

I want to show everyone what I can do, Demeter thought, remembering that one of the most famous traits of Slytherin House was ambition. I want to make my parents proud, she repeated. I want to ...

But she never managed to finish her thought.

‘Gryffindor!’ the Sorting Hat shouted, and the table far to the left, which was decorated in gold and red colours, erupted with cheers. And when Demeter made her way towards her House table, not really understanding what had made the hat Sort her into Gryffindor, she couldn’t help but turn around and look at her mother. To her surprise, she found her smiling.

~ ~ ~

About two hours later, Demeter dropped onto her bed, looked around the room and smiled. Gryffindor. Who would have thought that she would be Sorted into Gryffindor?

When the Sorting Hat had announced its decision she had felt disappointed for a moment. Her parents had both been in Slytherin. Her father had been Head of Slytherin for almost two decades, and now her mother had taken over that position. And Demeter had wanted to make her parents proud. And so – for one terrifying moment – she had thought that she had let her parents down. But then she had seen her mother’s face, and her heart had skipped a beat. A smile. Her mother had actually been smiling. And not just with her lips. No. For a fraction of a second, Demeter could have sworn that she saw a smile in her mother’s eyes.

‘Hi.’ A light voice ripped Demeter out of her thoughts. There was a girl standing beside her bed, a girl with wavy dark-brown hair and green eyes, her hand stretched out.

‘Hi,’ the girl said again. ‘I’m Livia, Livia Barker. Looks like we’re going to be roommates.’

Demeter took the outstretched hand and shook it. ‘My name’s Demeter. Demeter Snape.’ The name still felt strange on her tongue. It was the name of her father, the name of a man of whom she knew nothing at all. The name of a man whom she had still not met.

Livia’s eyes became bigger. ‘Snape? Are you Severus Snape’s daughter? Wow. My father works for the Ministry, you know. He’s colleagues with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. And they always say that Snape was a hero.’

Demeter just nodded and forced herself to smile. It felt strange that this girl seemed to know more about her father than she did.

‘Tell me,’ Livia went on, ‘was he really as mean as everybody says?’

Demeter shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I never met him.’

‘Oh.’ Livia looked slightly startled, but before she could say any more, a third girl entered the room. It was Sarah.

‘Can you believe our luck?’ she asked. ‘Same House and roommates?’

Sarah and Livia introduced each other, and the three girls were just about to open a box of sweets when the door opened and the Head Girl came in.

‘Demeter Snape? You’re to report to the Headmistress’ office at once,’ she said. ‘How on earth have you managed to get into trouble already?’

Sarah and Livia exchanged a surprised look and repeated the Head Girl’s question. But Demeter lied and said that she had no idea. She did not feel like sharing that she was finally going to meet her father.

~ ~ ~

‘Demeter has been Sorted into Gryffindor.’

Severus spun around. When Minerva had called him to her office and then left, telling him to wait, he had expected that he was about to be introduced to his daughter. He had not, however, been prepared for Morgaine banging open the door and tell him that the girl had been Sorted into ... What had she just said?

‘Gryffindor?’

Morgaine shut the door behind her and narrowed her eyes. ‘Well, it isn’t really that surprising, is it?’

‘No, maybe not,’ Severus replied. After all, there had been some very brave Gryffindors in the girl’s family, Albus Dumbledore to name just one. But still, Severus did not have to like it.

‘She is on her way up here now,’ Morgaine informed him. ‘Are you ready to meet her?’

Severus nodded. He had been ready for quite some time now.

‘Don’t scare her,’ Morgaine beseeched him. ‘It’s been a busy day. Demeter is certainly tired, and she has never met a ghost before.’

‘I doubt Demeter would be scared of the hounds of hell with you by her side,’ Severus pointed out, attempting a joke to lighten the mood. But Morgaine shook her head.

‘I won’t be staying,’ she said. ‘This is your moment, yours and Demeter’s. And I have ... things to do.’

‘Things?’ Severus frowned. ‘What kind of things?’ Whatever could be more important to Morgaine that the meeting between her daughter and the man who had fathered the child?

‘I can’t stay,’ Morgaine simply said and had already turned to leave when she stopped dead in her tracks.

‘Will you protect her, Severus?’ she asked. ‘Will you protect our child?’

Severus narrowed his pale eyes. ‘What would the girl need protection from?’ he wondered. ‘Her House mates?’

Morgaine slowly turned around to face him again, and the look in her eyes told Severus that even his second joke had been anything but well-received. ‘Will you, Severus?’ she repeated her question. ‘Will you protect our daughter?’

‘Why would you even ask?’ Severus enquired, the tone of his voice now reflecting Morgaine’s seriousness. ‘Of course I will do everything in my power to protect Demeter.’

Morgaine nodded. ‘I needed to hear you say it,’ she whispered.

Severus opened his mouth to ask for Morgaine’s reasons, but he was interrupted by a knock on the door. His daughter had arrived.

~ ~ ~

When Demeter knocked at the Headmistress’ door, her heart was beating so fast that she was afraid it might crack a rib. Whatever awaited her beyond that door? She had imagined meeting her father so many times, but now all the images in her head had been blown away, and she felt as if she were standing at the edge of the Black Lake, being expected to jump in headfirst.

She was surprised as her mother opened the door and slightly shocked when she looked at her mother’s face. Only an hour ago, after the Sorting, her mother had looked so happy. And now she looked once more tired, so incredibly tired, and any trace of a smile had left her eyes. But her voice was warm and soft as always.

‘We have been expecting you, little one.’

Curiously, Demeter craned her neck and looked around in the office. She knew that the former Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts all had a portrait hanging right there on the wall. Most probably her father had one, too. She located the portrait of her great-great-grandfather Albus Dumbledore. The old man was wearing purple robes and smiling kindly at her. And then he waved and stepped out of his frame.

‘You father insisted on not having his portrait hung up here,’ Morgaine explained, answering Demeter’s unspoken question. ‘He felt that he was not worthy of it.’

Demeter frowned. Severus Snape not worthy of having his portrait hung up in the Headmistress’ office? Rubbish! But it did not feel like the right opportunity to ask about his reasons.

‘I never asked to be made Headmaster, and I hated every minute of it. And I would hate having to spend the next hundred years in this office.’

His voice made Demeter spin around. She had never heard a voice like this. It was soft like velvet, cold like ice, both at once, and it made the hair on her neck stand up and a shiver go down her spine.

With her mouth slightly open, she stared at the ghost in front of her. He was shimmering silvery-blue. His hair hung like curtains around his face. His nose was hooked and his features severe. And he looked exactly as Demeter had imagined him.

‘I’ll leave you two alone.’

Demeter felt the faintest brush of a kiss on her forehead and saw her mother cast a glance at the ghost. And while he just gave a curt nod as a gesture of goodbye, Demeter could have sworn that she had seen tears glitter in her mother’s eyes.

As the door had closed, Demeter swallowed drily and then turned to face the ghost again. She had never met one before. Well, she had met Sir Nicholas in the Great Hall earlier that evening, but she had never talked to a ghost face to face. To be honest, her first impulse had been to call after her mother, to tell her not to leave her alone. But she had kept her mouth shut and was now bravely facing the ghost of Severus Snape, who – in his turn – was eying here from top to toe.

‘You have your mother’s eyes,’ he said after a while. And all of a sudden, his voice didn’t sound so cold anymore. But the intense gaze with which he was looking at her still made Demeter feel uncomfortable. ‘Otherwise you do not resemble her at all.’

‘People say I look like you, sir,’ Demeter said quietly. She did not dare talk loudly. She did not want the ghost to hear that her voice was trembling.

‘Like me?’ the ghost asked, his eyes boring into hers. ‘Now that is a cruel thing to say to a girl. But it might be true. You have inherited my mother’s looks,’ he pointed out. ‘And, unfortunately, my father’s nose.’

Demeter bit her lip and lowered her gaze to the floor, not really knowing what to make of the ghost’s words. Did he think her ugly? Or did he just think that she did not look like him at all, although everybody else said so?

‘Your mother tells me you were Sorted into Gryffindor,’ the ghost stated after a while, and Demeter nodded.

‘That figures,’ the ghost went on. ‘Your great-great-grandfather was a famous Gryffindor. And your mother should have been Sorted into that House as well. She is one of the bravest people I have ever known.’

Demeter lifted her head to find the ghost still looking at her with those bottomless eyes. ‘They say that maybe you should have been a Gryffindor as well, sir.’

To that, the ghost frowned. ‘Who says that?’

‘Harry Potter, for example,’ Demeter replied. ‘He says that you were one of the bravest people he ever knew.’

She saw the frown deepen on the ghost’s brow and was startled by the coldness that had suddenly returned into his voice.

‘Do not believe everything people tell you, Demeter,’ he chided her. ‘Gather facts and build your own opinion.’

Demeter bit her lip and nodded. ‘I will, sir. Thank you for the advice.’

Silence settled over the office, and for some minutes, girl and ghost stood gazing at each other, both absorbed by their own thoughts. Demeter was looking for something to say, something smart that would impress the ghost, her father, and make him like her. But whatever she came up with seemed silly.

‘You should not be here tonight, Demeter,’ the ghost finally said, his voice back at a neutral tone. ‘It is your first night at the castle. Go get to know your House mates.’

Demeter nodded and gave him a shy smile. ‘It was nice meeting you, sir,’ she said, not sure that it was the right thing to say. And she was not sure what to feel either. Partly, she was relieved to get away from his piercing eyes. But she also felt as if he was throwing her out.

To her surprise, a smile flitted over his ghostly features. It passed so quickly that she would have missed it, had she blinked at just that moment.

‘It was nice meeting you, too, Demeter of the Lake.’

‘Snape,’ Demeter corrected him quickly. ‘Mother wanted me to carry your name. Demeter Snape.’

‘Demeter Snape,’ the ghost repeated pensively. And for a minute, he was silent, as if he were contemplating the sound of that name. Then he nodded. ‘Demeter Snape, I am sure we will meet again. If you wish, that is.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Demeter answered truthfully. ‘I would like that very much.’

~ ~ ~

Far away from the Headmistress’ office, in the seclusion of the Shrieking Shack, Morgaine was cowering on the dusty floor. In front of her, on the dark spot which had been formed by Severus’ blood, lay three black obsidians.

She had held them tightly in her hand while she had listened to Severus’ promise to protect Demeter, and she had not let go of them until she had reached the Shack. There she had washed them and placed them on the floor together with her wand. She would not need her wand. Neither birch nor dragon heart string would help her tonight. What she needed was Severus’ promise and her trust in the Light.

She lit a candle and picked up the first obsidian, holding it over the candle, so close that she could feel the flame’s heat on her skin.

‘Obsidian, black as his hair, black as his eyes,
Guard her from harm, make her think twice.

‘Sharp as his tongue, sharp as his pain,
Keep her clear-eyed and true, not vain.

‘Hard as his courage, hard as his will,
Defend her from those who wish her ill.

‘Obsidian formed in Earth’s fiery core,
I ask protection for his child that I bore.’

Thrice Morgaine repeated the spell. Thrice she let the flame singe her skin. And thrice she prayed that Demeter would never need the protection of the stones.




A/N: Thousand thanks to Kyria of Delphi for the spell and her blessing.

Always By Your Side by morgaine_dulac [Reviews - 3]

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