Lillith's Father [2]

Lillith's Father: Chapter Three:

Chapter Three: 

"What should I do, Headmaster?" Severus questioned, his stomach rolling at the thought of the Dark Lord getting his scaly hands on his Lillith. She was his daughter, he was meant to protect her, but how could he do so without giving away his true loyalty?

"If Bellatrix asks once more, agree to it. We'll fill in Miss Deacon before anything could happen, Severus. She will be safe," Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, spoke reassuringly. His normal, sparkling blue eyes were serious, his lips set in a frown and the portraits of previous Headmasters looked on in shock. It wasn't often that the Headmaster was completely serious, he was constantly talking in riddles, but here and now, he spoke plainly and they were all unaccustomed to it.

“Yes Albus,” Snape left, his black cloak fluttering behind him.

-----

“He's growing agitated, Severus. I need that girl!” Bellatrix screeched, stomping her foot like a child who had been denied sweets by her parents.

“And you will have her. Give me until the end of the school year.”

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“Who is that?” The whispers echoed around the Potions room as I walked in. I had been dreading this class, so much so that I had planned to skip it completely, and I would have if Hermione hadn't of caught me and practically dragged me through the corridors.

I tossed a light glare her way, which did no good as she wasn't paying the least bit of attention, and instead was staring ahead curiously.

Following her line of sight passed the other tables filled with students, I stopped at the very front, noticing that it wasn't my father there. Instead a portly man with jovial eyes and crinkles stood there, smiling grandly at the class. His dirty blond, possibly even light brown, hair was graying and though it had obviously been combed earlier this morning, it was already starting to frizz and stand up on end.

I sat down at an empty desk, wishing that there were windows in the dungeons so that I had something to stare at as I waited for the class to start. The walls were dingy and slightly molded in some corners, and cold drafts came through cracks in the walls every now and then, causing goose-pimples to erupt across your arms and a shiver wrack your spine. All in all, the dungeon was a dreary place to be.

Students spoke none-to-quietly about the new teacher, he hadn't been at the welcoming feast and everyone was curious.

“Sorry we're late, Professor!” I heard the familiar voice pant as the once-closed door banged open and as I turned to look, I realized it was Harry and Ron, hands on their knees, breathing heavily.

“It's quite all right, m'boys! Grab a seat and lets get started!”

Harry stared around uncertain before looking back up at the Professor, whom I still didn't know the name of.

“We weren't expecting to be in this class, so we don't have any books...” Ron spoke up for the first time though not loudly, his eyes downcast and his cheeks had just a hint of pink to them.

“There should be a few extra books in the cupboard, why don't you boys go look.”

I turned back to the front, listening as the students droning voices dulled down as class started.

------

My father, I later learned, taught Defense Against the Dark Arts and Hermione along with Harry and Ron had left me alone, leaving me to my own devices, which meant I was free to skip the period like I had planned.

“You do realize, Miss Deacon, that skipping classes can be cause for detention, don't you?”

My eyes whipped over to Professor Dumbledore, and they widened considerably before I quickly pushed myself up off the ground.

“Which lesson are you missing?”

Swallowing hard I stared at the ground. Defense Against the Dark Arts, sir,” I muttered, shifting my feet uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Then I'll tell Severus he can expect to see you tonight for three hours to make up for his lost teachings, Lillith.” Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily, almost as if he enjoyed causing me this emotional pain.

I didn't want to see my Father, I didn't want to feel my heart shatter again as he said he had no time for me. He reminded me so much of the muggle man I once thought to be my father, just with emotional abuse instead of physical.

I watched as the Headmaster strode away, his blue robes catching the sunlight and twinkling as if it were filled with glitter. The grass twinkled too, as well as the water of the Black Lake, which I sat beside. The sunlight reflected off of the waters, temporarily blinding me but I didn't turn away despite the burning pain behind my eyelids.

I sat for hours, completely forgetting about the midday meal and all my other classes. It wasn't until an owl landed in front of me, a note attached to it's leg, that I realized it had already gone completely dark.

~Come to my classroom immediately~ I read in my father's easily recognizable and readable handwriting.

I crumbled the note, trying to decide as quickly as I could whether or not to actually show up to my detention. If I did then I'd most likely just get sneered at, if I didn't, then I'd get into even more trouble than I already was.

Was it worth it?

Probably not.

So with that thought I took off in the slowest walk I possibly could, trying desperately to simply gather my thoughts and figure out what I'd do if my Father decided to spurn me once again.

"Hey Lillith!" 

My eyes jerked over towards the redhaired boy running towards me haphazardly and I moved out of the way just before he crashed into me. 

"Hi Ron," I muttered, my lips curved into a slight smile as he skidded to a halt, looking at me sheepishly while rubbing the back of his neck.  I realized in his opposite hand, he clutched something and I didn't even have a chance to wonder about it before the object was thrust into my face.

"You have a letter.  It's from Fred!"

The grin that stretched across my face following that name was huge, making my cheeks ache slightly, but I didn't stop smiling.  I got a letter from Fred!

I snatched the envelope out of Ron's clutches before throwing my extra slim arms around him.  "Thank you," I said loudly before picking up my pace and practically running to the dungeons for my detention.  The faster I got this detention over with the fast I could return to Gryffindor's Common Room and read my mail! 

"Did you get lost on the way?"  Father questioned, his voice it's usual monotone sneer.  How did he do that, anyway?  I was sure that sneering meant anger or annoyance, yet his voice nor his face showed a hint of emotion.  His eyes were hidden, not giving me the chance to look at his emotions through the cold obsidian.

"I was...ambushed," I smiled slightly at the memory of nearly being run down by the youngest Weasley boy.  "So what would you like me to do, Professor Snape."

"You do know that you're not required to call me that when we are alone, don't you?"

My eyes widened before I did my absolute best to erase all emotion from my face. 

Don't get your hope up, Lillith. My mind warned me.

"I don't understand, what else am I supposed to call you if not Professor Snape?" 

"You may call me..." His voice trailed off, and he coughed slightly but otherwise didn't make another noise.

"Call you what?"

"Father.  You may call me Father.  If you wish to."