Mon Cher (Severus Snape Daughter FF)

Ch. 15 // COS

AAAAAAHHH!!!! Y'all! Get excited! Prisoner of Azkaban is up next!!!

For a moment there was silence as Clara, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Lockhart stood in the doorway, covered in muck and slime and (in Harry and Clara's case) blood.
Then there was a scream. “Ginny!”
It was Mrs. Weasley, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire. She leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, and both of them flung themselves on their daughter. Clara and Harry, however, were looking past them. Professor Dumbledore was standing by the mantelpiece, beaming, next to Professor McGonagall, who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest, and Snape who rushed over to Clara and embraced her in his arms.

Despite everything she was just told by Voldemort, she wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her off the floor. Clara felt her father's tears on her shoulder and his whole body shook as he sniffled (lmao Snivellus).

He finally put her down as Fawkes went whooshing past Harry's ear and settled on Dumbledore's shoulder, just as Clara found herself being swept up again along with Harry and Ron by Mrs. Weasley.
“You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?”
“I think we'd all like to know that,” said Professor McGonagall weakly.
Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry, who hesitated for a moment, then walked over to the desk and laid upon it the Sorting Hat, the ruby encrusted sword, and what remained of Riddle's diary. Then he started telling them everything. For nearly a quarter of an hour he spoke into the rapt silence: He told them about hearing the disembodied voice, how Clara had finally realized that he was hearing a basilisk and Hermione found out it moved through the pipes; how he, Clara, and Ron had followed the spiders into the forest, that Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died; how he had guessed that Moaning Myrtle had been the victim, and that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets might be in her bathroom…
“Very well,” Professor McGonagall prompted him as he paused, “so you found out where the entrance was — breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add — but how on earth did you all get out of there alive, Potter?”
So Harry, his voice now growing hoarse from all this talking, told them about Fawkes's timely arrival and about the Sorting Hat giving him the sword. But then he faltered. He had so far avoided mentioning Riddle's diary — or Ginny. She was standing with her head against Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, and tears were still coursing silently down her cheeks. Instinctively, Harry looked at Dumbledore, who smiled faintly, the firelight glancing off his half moon spectacles.
“What interests me most,” said Dumbledore gently, “is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania.”
Relief — warm, sweeping, glorious relief — swept over Clara.
“W-what's that?” said Mr. Weasley in a stunned voice. “You-Know-Who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny's not… Ginny hasn't been… has she?”
“It was this diary,” said Clara quickly, picking it up and showing it to Dumbledore. “Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen…” Dumbledore took the diary from Clara and peered keenly down his long, crooked nose at its burnt and soggy pages.
"What I want to know is what role did you play, Clara?" Severus looked down at his daughter.
Clara looked back up at him with her light greenish-gray eyes before looking over at Dumbledore, who leaned forward. She cleared her throat.
"When Harry killed the basilisk, one of its fangs was stuck in his arm. I took it out, Fawkes healed his wound, and I stabbed the diary with the fang and Voldemort disappeared once again."
“Brilliant,” Dumbledore said softly. “Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen.” He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered. “Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school… traveled far and wide… sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here.”
“But, Ginny,” said Mrs. Weasley. “What's our Ginny got to do with — with — him?”
“His d-diary!” Ginny sobbed. “I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year — ”
“Ginny!” said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. “Haven't I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain? Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic!”
“I d-didn't know,” sobbed Ginny. “I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it — ”
“Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away,” Dumbledore interrupted in a firm voice. “This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort.” He strode over to the door and opened it. “Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up,” he added, twinkling kindly down at her. “You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice — I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment.”
“So Hermione's okay!” said Ron brightly.
“There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny,” said Dumbledore.
Mrs. Weasley led Ginny out, and Mr. Weasley followed, still looking deeply shaken. “You know, Minerva,” Professor Dumbledore said thoughtfully to Professor McGonagall, “I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?”
“Right,” said Professor McGonagall crisply, also moving to the door. “I'll leave you to deal with Potter, Miss Snape, and Weasley, shall I?”
“Certainly,” said Dumbledore. She left, and Dumbledore looked up at Snape, who had his arms crossed, but didn't look upset.
"Severus," said Dumbledore, snapping Snape out of his thoughts. "I can see that you and Clara need to have words with each other, but do you mind if I talk to her first?"
Snape looked down at Clara. She purposely had her head turned the other way. She was furious with him and for good reason too! And to think...he wanted to scold her for her actions?!
"Not at all, Headmaster." Snape turned on his heels and left Dumbledore's office.