Mon Cher (Severus Snape Daughter FF)

Ch. 4 // PS

The next day, Clara was woken up by a rather eager Hermione. Clara wasn't much of a morning person, but today was different. She quickly realized where she was and jumped up. She got dressed and slicked her hair back in a ponytail. She grabbed Hermione's hand, almost making her drop her books. "C'mon!"

Clara saw Harry walking down the hall, as did other students. They just stood and gawked at him as if he were an animal in the zoo. It reminded her of last night when it finally registered in everyone's brains that she was the daughter of Severus Snape. She knew how it felt. It was a very uncomfortable feeling. She walked ahead of Hermione to walk alongside Harry.

"Ready for your first day?" She asked, playfully nudging him with her elbow. "Hey Clara." He said plainly.

Clara was about to ask him what was wrong until she heard for herself:

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to Snape's kid."

"Snape's kid?"

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Clara looked at Harry with sympathy. Her eyes naturally flashed with protectiveness. "Don't pay any attention to them." She told him. "Just focus on getting to your classes."

"But why do they have to stare?" He asked her.

"Manners are a learned behavior." Clara said, making Harry smile a little.

..............................................................................

Throughout the first week, Clara decided to help Harry as best as she could, since she knew her way around better than any other first year. Harry told her every day that she didn't have to or he should learn to find his way on his own, but Clara insisted.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Harry learned that the hard way, almost falling until Clara grabbed him by the collar if his shirt and pulled him up.

Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Harry almost fell backwards the first time. He looked at Clara, who wasn't fazed at all. "Listen, I know you grew up here, but that could scare anyone."
Clara shrugged. "It used to."

Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

He pulled Clara down by her ponytail one day, which left her fuming.
"You used to that?" Harry asked her while holding out his hand.
Clara made a mocking face at him and continued walking.

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Harry, Clara, and Ron managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor, while Clara stood on the side, telling them it was out of bounds. "Are you sure?" Ron asked her as he pushed on the door again. Before Clara could answer she saw Filch staring at all three of them. "Pretty sure." She said patting them both in the shoulder and nodding towards Filch.
He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.
Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris, his dusty cat, a good kick.