Silvanna Snape {Marauders}

Chapter Fifteen

Happy reading :)

Throughout the rest of the holidays, Silvanna's supplies ran low, and she almost ran out completely of bruising paste. She was also very tired, having been woken by her dad's drunken shouting frequently, and by the early mornings as she made sure to avoid him.

She received a letter, the day after boxing day, which really did surprise her. Her dad didn't like how the owl had come to the kitchen window, but the argument was quickly put down after he went off to work, where he cleaned the local primary school.

To Silvanna,

I hope you've had a nice Christmas. Mine was great - I got loads of new muggle novels from my mum, and some books on magical creatures from my dad. You can have a read of them if you want when we're back at Hogwarts.

I haven't heard much from Sirius, but James and Pete keep owling me and inviting me over to theirs. The Potters are having a New Year's Eve party, and I think my parents might let me go. Can't wait to see you again,

Remus

It had warmed Silvanna a little, knowing that there was someone who was thinking about her over Christmas. She'd scribbled a quick reply and used her mum's owl to send it, saying how she'd got a good gobstones set, and she'd had a nice, quiet lunch with her mum. She didn't mention her dad.

But now it was fine, and she was back on the Hogwarts express, feet up on the seat as she flicked through one of her library books that she'd got through in the first few days. Her rib had almost fully healed, but it was a little bit stiff. The bruising paste had worked miracles, and she'd definitely be stocking up on it before any more home visits.

The boys had sat with her again, ignoring her protests of wanting to be left alone. Did they think she liked them? She didn't, not really, maybe with the exception of Remus. And Black had been very discreet about their discovery of the proper way to discipline kids. And Potter and Pettigrew weren't horrible as such. But no, she didn't like them at all.

She peered at Black now, who was in an intense game of exploding snap with the other three. He looked as tired as she felt, with big bags under his eyes, and he was thinner too. Was it her imagination, or did his hair hang more limply? She shook her head; it was none of her business.

The train journey was as long as ever, and Silvanna nibbled at the ham sandwich her mum had made for her that morning. To her delight and surprise, the boys bought sweets for all of them and shared them out.

Despite her mum being a witch, Silvanna had rarely had wizard sweets. She hardly ever had muggle sweets unless it was her birthday or christmas, and even then it was just a chocolate bar. A chocolate bar she could make last for months, mind.

Overwhelmed by their kindness, Silvanna sat and chatted to them for the remainder of their journey, listening patiently to their stories of what they did at Christmas, and only a tiny bit jealous. Black was happily steering the conversation to any and all prank ideas he'd come up with whenever a question was directed at him, and Silvanna usually bit back with a snarky comment whenever someone asked her something. But other than that, the trip went well. Merlin, it was good to be back.

When they arrived at Hogsmeade station, where rain drizzled onto their hair, Silvanna jumped in a carriage with them instead of using the boats that they had before. She caught sight of Lily talking to a couple of Ravenclaws, and Marlene and Mary eating the last of their sweets, but neither of them saw her.

When they arrived in the Entrance Hall, Silvanna made her way into dinner with the others, but she was called aside by Professor McGonagall. How could she be in trouble already? She'd only just got here!

Reluctantly, she went with the Professor, who didn't say a word to her. To Silvanna's confusion, they went straight past the corridor with her office on, and to a part of the castle she hadn't been in before. She thought it might be near the library.

The room she was led into was large, like the library, but lined with crisp white beds, and railings with curtains around them. Silvanna frowned. It looked a little bit like a hospital, but she'd only been in one of those once before when her dad had been sick. What was she doing here?

"Ah, Miss Snape," said a friendly looking woman, who came bustling out of an office. She wore maroon robes with a crisp white apron over the top. "I'm Madame Pomfrey, the Matron here at Hogwarts. Just a small check up today, is that alright?"

Silvanna scowled. She looked at McGonagall. "Why is no one else having a check up?"

McGonagall didn't waver. "We can't very well have them all at once, can we?" she said stiffly.

"Just behind here, then," said Madame Pomfrey, ushering Silvanna behind a curtain on a rail. There was another bed behind here, and Pomfrey pulled the curtain shut so McGonagall couldn't see. "Now if you can just take you cardigan and your blouse off for me." Her tone was bright and warm but still firm. Silvanna hesitated. If she did, she'd see all her scars. But if she was reluctant, they'd take it that she knew something was wrong. Mind whirring for an excuse, she pulled them up, over her head.

Madame Pomfrey smiled at her and very gently and carefully lifted her vest up. Upon seeing the bruising around her ribs, she didn't jump or seem at all surprised, she just nodded and looked mildly interested. She turned Silvanna around and looked at her back, but Silvanna couldn't gage her reaction. Seemingly satisfied, she turned Silvanna back around.

"Where did you get these injuries?" she asked gently, peering into Silvanna's ears, eyes, and mouth.

"I fell out a tree," she replied quickly.

"When?" asked Pomfrey. She was trying to date her scars.

"I do it all the time," said Silvanna. "I like climbing trees, and my mum always says the best way to improve is to fail."

Pomfrey stared at her. "You can put your things back on now," she said. "If you'd like to have a seat?" Silvanna slumped into the end of the perfectly made bed, buttoning up her top as she pricked her ears to listen.

"...no signs of recent damage. A bit of bruising on her ribs, and some nasty scars on her back."

"Did you ask where they were from?" came McGonagall's whisper.

"She said she falls out of trees a lot," Pomfrey said, and McGonagall made a quiet noise of disapproval. "What I don't understand is with natural healing, that scar's about a month old, maybe two, but no less."

"She was here then, Poppy," scoffed McGonagall.

"I know," said Pomfrey. "I think maybe someone healed it for her. Which means it is recent."

"Their mother is a witch," McGonagall said thoughtfully. "Ought I to ask?"

"Your area of expertise," said Madame Pomfrey's voice. "But you know as well as I do that these sorts need time before they'll say anything."

McGonagall hummed in thought. Moments later, the curtain was pulled back and she was dismissed for tea, feeling all the more jittery. If they hadn't been suspicious earlier, they certainly were now.