Roses are red
But Violet is not blue
Instead she's a Wizard
And a bloody Snape, too.
[REWRITE OF VIOLET SNAPE]
(PoA-DH. Book 1 of the 'WICCAN' series. Written by @astronomyblues.)
#8 in FANFICTION
#13 in HPFF
#20 in SNAPESDAUGHTER
#147 in SNAPE
#154...
CHAPTER FIVE: CATS, RATS, AND BACKHAND SLAPS, OH MY!
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"Don't you looking dashing?" came the teasing voice of either Fred or George, but Violet was too busy saving herself from falling face-first into her porridge to make any guesses as to who exactly was making fun of her appearance.
"Shove it," grumbled Violet, pushing her hair out of her face. It fell back into her spoon just as she had brought it to her lips. Violet scowled and dropped the utensil, snatching up her napkin and wiping furiously at her hair. That was the second time foodstuff had gotten into her hair in the last twenty-four hours, and Violet was already sick of it.
"Here," said Ginny, offering a hair-tie from her wrist. "You're never going to tame that bird's nest unless you tie it up."
Violet sighed, and accepted it with a half-hearted smile. She was honestly too tired to even muster anything else.
"And here I thought my hair was bad," said Harry, pinning her tresses with an amused glance. Violet felt her face warm in embarrassment, mentally cursing herself for leaving her room so dishevelled, and only stuck her tongue out in retaliation.
It was the morning of September first, and many of the inn's occupants were up and about in the dining area with a hearty plate of breakfast in front of them. Violet tried to wake herself up more with the thought that she was going to be in Hogwarts in a few hours, and found that miraculously, it worked.
"So, Buttercup," grinned George, sliding into the seat opposite Violet. "What house do you think you'll be in?"
Violet blinked. "You talkin' do me?" she asked, her words muffled by the mouthful of porridge.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," reproved Hermione.
"S'rry, mum," she mumbled, swallowing after the muggleborn Witch rolled her eyes. "One, stop calling me that, that's the wrong flowerㅡ"
"No chance, Buttercup."
"ㅡand B," she said, holding up three fingers, "to answer your question, I want to be in Hufflepuff."
Her response raised many eyebrows.
"Hufflepuff?" repeated Ron, pausing after taking a large bite out of his sandwich. "Why Hufflepuff?"
Molly thwacked her son on the head. "Hufflepuff is as good a house as any of the others!"
"I wasn't insulting them, mum!"
"Better than Slytherin, anyway..." mumbled Fred.
"I don't care for your tone young man," she warned, while shovelling some bacon onto his plate. Her tone instantly changed as she passed a cursory eye over her feasting children. "Have some more or you'll be starving on that train. I'll pack some more sandwiches for all of you."
