The Girl Who Lived?

There was only silence. After Harry’s outburst, no one spoke a word. I could only look at my professor who was the reason why I was in the hospital wing in the first place. Snape on the other hand, would not look at me. His eyes wandered over everything else in the room except me. How could he not even pay attention to me after he hurt me? I’m his student!

While I was glaring at Snape Dumbledore broke the silence. His wisdom filled voiced echoed throughout the room, “Well I do believe I am here for a reason. How are you doing dear?” With a smile on his face, the headmaster simply looked at me with concern.

Giving him a smile in return I responded, “I’m perfectly fine. I don’t really see why I’m here in the first place sir.” It was true; I feel like I can go run a marathon. Even to prove the point, I got up from my bed and stretched my aching muscles. For being asleep for a week straight, my body wasn’t in that bad of shape actually. I could feel the strain I was putting on my muscles but it felt good to be able to move. Even the urge to fly and play quidditch nagged back of my mind.

It must have been my words that had caught Snape’s attention. I saw him turn his head to allow his eyes to land on me. Our eyes met and I instantly remembered what had happened that night in his office. I really was out of control… It was pure luck that I had not harmed either of us with the objects I sent flying around the room.

I gathered all of the courage that I could muster. My voice was quite but it carried across the room none the less, “I’m sorry professor. I was completely out of control; I simply lost my temper. If there was any way for you to keep teaching me I would be incredibly grateful.” Snape must be realizing how horrible I feel about everything from his quick answer, “Of course I will keep teaching you. I could never say no to you Rose.”

There was something in his eyes that I have never seen before; it looked as if it was kindness? As soon as I saw it, it disappeared just as quickly. No one spoke now, sensing that there was something else needed to be said but no one seemed to want to be the one the first to say something. That’s what I thought at least.  Dumbledore’s voice was the one the break the silence, “I do believe that Severus had intended to tell you something when we arrived here. It would probably be best if it was in private.” With his words, the headmaster winked towards my friends as a subtle hint.

I turned my head towards my friends for some clue as to what Dumbledore was talking about but they only looked confused. My confusion was mirrored back at them as they walked out of the hospital wing doors. Turning towards Snape I gave him a questioning look. I do hope that it won’t be any bad news; I think I’ve had enough to last me at least a few more months.

Letting out a long depressing sight, Snape sat gingerly on the foot of my bed. He twisted his fingers together as a nervous habit. With a slight chuckle he turned towards me. He said, “You know no one can stop being a Death Eater? It simply cannot be done. I’m the one has come closest with the success. The depressing part about it is that I’m still one; not at heart though, only for appearances that is.” Snape ended with another chuckle but it was more out of nerves than the first.

The only thing I could think of was: Why is he talking to me about this? I’m sure it’s pretty obvious how real that truth is to me. My mother is another example of how no one can ever stop being a Death Eater; she’s dead for trying to leave. As I began to remember my mother it quickly darkened my mood, “How about you just get to the point professor?”

“Oh, right! I apologize.” Since when was Snape sorry for something? My day could not get any weirder than this. Scooting closer to me on the bed, Snape attempted to smile but it only came out as a friendly sneer. “That’s not really what I wanted to talk about; we can discuss you becoming a Death Eater some other day. What I wish to discuss is something far more personal. Did you know that my mother’s maiden name was Prince? It’s the same as yours as you can see.” His voice was filled with happiness.

It wasn’t until after he was done speaking for a few moments that his words registered in my mind. What was he trying to say? That I’m related to him somehow? My confusion must have appeared on my face because he continued on. “You see, my mother had another boy with a man other than my father.  When the baby was born she gave him her last name and sent him off to an orphanage.  I only recently learned of what happened to him; Michael Prince was adopted by a loving couple when he was a young child. He kept his last name though; your father is my younger half brother. Rose, I’m your uncle.”