Part One * Part Two * Part Three * Part Four

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. I do however own the character of Sylvia and the plot. Please don't take her or the plot without my permission. If you do, it's like you take a part of my soul, because Sylvia is me. So please. Don't.

Haunting Irony: Hiding Behind the Shadow

Part Two
What do I say? I existed. Work was done, and I lived. I soon got into a comfortable cycle of life- eat, school, homework, bed. I didn't think anything of it at the time, and the months flew. I didn't tell anyone anything, I honored my father's request, yet I wondered why he had such a concern about my name. I eventually figured out that he knew something I didn't know, and that he was, in his way, teaching me a lesson; that I shouldn't reveal information to just anyone. I took the lesson to heart; I remained silent; but then I didn't have the whole House flocking to me for my friendship. Some tried though, a few daring souls, but I blew them away with either my coldness or lack of feeling to their attempts at friendship, or my superior knowedge and dedication to my schoolwork. Even Mafloy tried to pull something on me, first with friendship, then something deeper. I wanted to ever-so-much to cast a hex on him, but I kept my anger down, and amused myself on the way to class about things I could do to him. But they saw mainly what I was, or rather, who I was related to, and kept their distance.

Despite their best intentions, I saw many rule infractions- girls taking boys to the dormitory, stealing, cheating on tests. Could I have told dad? Maybe. Because all of these would warrant punishment. But something told me I was not to just spend my life picking out and tattling on others. I hated that in Mafloy, I hated that in the other Slytherins. No- I was meant to watch. And watch I did. I learned more from being quiet than others could learn from asking all the questions in the world. Sure, they probably said things about me- names, profane things. But I really didn't care. Ha! I said to them. I am better than you in so many ways. It was great.

But I was getting bored. I wanted to do something. Something to occupy my nighttime hours...

One day, in this period of floating, I happened to overhear Potter talking to his friends. I overheard 4 simple words, one a contraction, so it could be five, which piqued my curiosity.

"We'll do it tonight."

Something strange awoke in me, the old beast that is curiosity. What was "it"? Before I knew it, I had hid behind a statue so I could listen to them talk.

The time went past quickly. One of them-Potter perhaps- detailed a quick plan. They were going to break into Dad's office and steal some potion ingredients for some potion they were making. The trio left, and I emerged. Do I tell dad? This was certainly different than someone cheating on a test- this was a breach of privacy. But, my paradigms ruled, and as if my body had a mind of its own, I found myself running to Dad's office.

I knew I was off to a bad start when I ran into the room without knocking. All I saw was Dad, hands on a table, and a student that I had never seen before. Before Dad could even say anything, I had closed the door.

I waited outside until the student came out, pretty shaken.

"I wouldn't talk to him right now," he said. "he's pretty pissed."

The student walked away.

Pissed or no pissed, I knew Dad had to know this.

I entered.

He looked at me, still caught up in the conversation beforehand.

"What was so damn important that you had to interrupt me?"

"Its about Potter, Dad."

He immediately perked up (well, as much as Dad does, anyway), removing his hands from the table. "What about Potter?"

"He and his friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasely, are going to break into your office tonight to steal some ingredients for a potion they are going to make. Something illicit, no doubt-" I spoke, seeing Dad don his ever-thick mask of thought. I had the feeling he was disappointed at something....

He stood for a bit, then bent down to get a piece of paper. He went to search for a quill, then stopped and swung his gaze on me.

He paused. I paused. We didn't say a word, intently studying each other, like a showdown of sorts. He crossed to his desk, staring at me. I remained standing.

"Why did you tell me?" His tone took a new but often-heard color of...disgust?

"Well, I know I would want to know if someone was going to break into my office. I thought you would punish Potter- I mean, it is wrong to break into a teacher's room, isn't it?"

"Silence!"

I shut up. He sat in his chair and waited again. I was getting new vibes from dad- more like disappointment, now. I wasn't sure. But he sure was hostile.

With a sudden movement he grabbed a stack of assignments, a quill, and started marking them, his hair creating a curtain which blocked his sight of me.

It didn't take any effort to see the conversation was over. I turned and silently swept out of the room.

I left his room in a fit of rage. One couldn't tell, probably, by my external appearance- I walked down the halls of Hogwarts as calm and placid as a lake in the summer. But within the confines of my brain, my mind raged and fumed in its unique manner....

I could see that he could be mad because I had "told" on someone, and he had always taught me not to do that- but this was Potter! And they were going to do something that was not only illegal, but dangerous! How would he feel, I thought, if Potter ended up with an extra limb or so from a potion they made? Oh, and the fact that Dad didn't seem to care? I was angry that Dad, a teacher, would just stand by and let these idiot students, which they should control, take whatever they please!

I didn't see Potter emerge. We slammed into each other, quite literally.

"Watch it Potter," I said, bending down to pick up my books which I was carrying.

"Let me help," he offered, starting to stoop.

"I'm fine."

He stood up, slowly. Potter- always the cause of my problems. It was his doings that created such a rift of hate in my family; Potter which caused Dad to be disappointed in me; Potter which just bruised my arm.

"Um...are you going to be OK--"

"I said I'm fine!" I said to the Gryffindor, low and threatening, and swept past him, in a hurry to nowhere, because the school day was over, and dinner was about to start.

As I ate, slowly, talking to no one, I seriously contemplated getting Potter myself. Dad obviously
didn't see the importance of this midnight journey; why else would he have ignored me so blatantly? If he cared, he would have engaged me in conversation; made eye contact, certainly not create the wonderfully appropriate image of his hair blocking his view of me just to grade assignments!

I took a swig of juice, and looked down the table at my adopted "family."

I think it was between the first and second slice of meatloaf when I made the decision.

There wasn't anything to think about. I mean, I did suffer with an apprehension, because I was going to break a few rules, but I managed to convince myself that it was for a greater good. Even as I crept through the commonroom at 8pm (not knowing when they were going to actually enter his office), the others ignored me, because Time hath lulled them into the security of Pattern behavior- and since I hadn't told anyone about what I'd seen (and I had seen a good number of them) they figured I was an empty threat. In their eyes I had faded into the background. In reality, they had all realized what Mafloy had known the first day- that having the daughter of a teacher (and your Head of House to boot) was a major advantage, because even though their Professor Snape was in many ways mean, he still had to have the love and care for his daughter. (I mean, even he couldn't be that cold). So they let me go on my merry way.

I supposed that the three had created some reason for them to commit this heinous act, such as I had done-maybe for an unforeseen 'greater good.' I comforted myself with the fact that I was about to prevent a crime- if all went well, I could be able to blackmail the Trio. I had to smile to myself as I hid behind a rather deep and cavernous statue across from Dad's office. My plan seemed foolproof. I would enter just as they approached; after some diatribe, we would negotiate, and split up; no one would be the wiser. If they told about me, I would tell about them; and besides, I am Severus Snape's daughter- it's certainly not out of anyone's paradigm for me to be doing this.

After the first hour, my legs were weak; the second brought threat of sleep; the third brought physical weariness. I suffered for my low constitution- I was sitting in the crevice by the 2nd hour. The wait for the inevitable was suffering. I entertained myself by thinking of potions which would drive away sleep- all forms, all kinds. But even my rightous vigil felt the pangs of doubt by the third hour. What if they didn't come? All this time spent for naught. But still-

A sound in the hall attracted my attention. Though I still couldn't see anything, I could hear the distinct voices of the Trio. I stood in a hurry, hitting my elbow in the process. Where were they? I heard a small "take off the cloak- I can't get the lock" and a wondrous sight I beheld.

The Trio appeared before me- literally! A silver Invisibility cloak fell to the floor as they worked the lock. I could not believe such luck! I was almost hesitant to break out of my abode- but seeing the Granger girl with them, they could have the lock down soon.

They didn't notice me- still working with the lock. I could not help but enjoy this business of irony. I chose a simple clearing of the throat to make them aware of my presence.

They turned to me, and I smiled a nasty smile as they enveloped me with surprise.

"You!" Harry said.

"Yes, me." I said, slowly walking into the middle of the hall. "What are you doing?"

"It doesn't matter what we're doing," Ron said. 'What are you doing out?"

"Oh, just taking a nighttime stroll," I mentioned casually.

"Does your Dad know about this?" Harry said.

"No- and I have a feeling you're not going to tell him."

I was laying out my cards one by one.

"We'll tell him anyway! We're not afraid of him, just like we're not afraid of you!" Harry said.

"I wasn't implying fear, Potter," I said, drawing my wand in the process. "Though, I'm rather surprised you brought it up."

I crossed a little closer to Potter, waving my wand in a threatening manner. I must admit, it came naturally. I didn't plan the movement, even though I planned the rest of my speech. And rehearsed it. Several times.

"Now, I won't tell him about your attempted robbery if you leave- now."

"And what if we don't?"

"Then I'll tell him- and everyone else."

"But you'll incriminate yourself!" Hermione pointed out.

"So?" I moved again, this time to Hermione. "I can stand one detention and a couple of loss points -while you three-" I pointed my wand at them- "are famous for your illicit actions. This could be the one that, well, gets you expelled."

Ah, my secret weapon. They turned pale, especially Hermione.

"Come on-" I said. I pointed with my wand toward the Gryffindor commonroom. "Off you go."

"And what about you?," Ron asked. "Are you going to leave?"

"Maybe- but you're in no position to make me do otherwise, are you, Weasely?"

He shyed away. I was wondering why Granger, or even Potter, hadn't tried to curse me. I certainly knew they could- they had on Mafloy countless times- but maybe it was because I was a girl-

(but probably its because you're a teacher's kid)

-that they kept their wands down. Potter bent down to get the cloak.

"Ah-hands off Potter."

I crossed over to the cloak and reached for it. "I think I better keep this as...collateral."

I must have crossed a line, because Potter drew his wand as fast as I'd ever seen- both of us held our wands out, and I would have hexed him, and he me, if I hadn't seen the look of horror on Potter's face as he looked behind me. I had a sickening thought as I swirled around, wand still held up, my body as tense as a cat's, knowing exactly who it was.

"POTTER!"

Dad crossed to us and suddenly I was aware of the time- and place.

"Strange meeting you three here," he addressed the Trio with malice.

I had not lowered my wand.

He gave them a look which some thought was reserved for Harry- but was actually used when something so abominable had been committed against his person....

He didn't look at me for one second.

"Come," he merely commanded them, and started walking away from the door, in the opposite direction. The trio followed. I was left with a decision- to stay or go? Knowing full well that he did see me, I followed too, leaving the silvery cloak on the floor. No doubt Dad would be there later to pick it up.

We followed him through twists and turns, higher and higher to somewhere close to the Gryffindor commonroom. I had never been in this part of the castle before, and I watched the scenery as a meager passing distraction to my situation- for I knew that dad was madder the calmer he was. And the fact he still hadn't acknowledged my presence wasn't too encouraging.

We stopped in front of a door- a rather simple-looking door. Dad knocked on it, and McGonagall came to the door, obviously torn from slumber.

"Professor Snape! What is the meaning of-" She saw her Gryffandor's standing behind him. "Potter! Granger! Weasely!"

She came out, and I saw the color rise in her cheeks. I was actually reminded of when a couple of neighborhood boys broke my grandmother's windows, and she...well...she was a lot like McGonagall was right now.

She looked at me, then looked at Dad. She must have assumed the correct fate for me-- I, as a Slytherin, would get his personal harassment.

"I found them trying to break into my office," Dad said, a sneer playing on his lips. He looked down at the Trio and I could see them quiver.

"I cannot believe Gryffindor could be capable of such behavior! When you three learn-- such midnight escapades will one day get you expelled!"

Potter, Weasely, and Granger started babbling- Dad started to turn away, and I felt obliged to follow. I did not have to answer to McGonagall- though I wish I had to. She didn't have the added bias of being a relation.

I could hear the ringing of the protests and the diatribe as she led them to the Gryffindor commonroom. I almost wished she would stay, because when the last rings of their speech had hit my ears, I had to face the storm.

He merely started walking down toward his office. I followed. The night air didn't help the mood- in fact, I must say it furthered my despair. I plunged into new lows never before experienced. I had never gotten into this much trouble; what a fool I had been to think this would work; why hadn't I had known dad would handle the situation; he'll never trust me again; he'll probably send me back to Keaton....

We stopped before the office. He picked up the cloak, and muttering something, the door easily clicked, and we went inside.

Others might find his office creepy; I rather liked how the ingredients (most of them that I knew by name) were held up by magic, and how the entrancing glow of the ingredients created an almost heavenly atmosphere.

He slammed the door, hard, and the spell was shattered. I could almost hear the literal breaking of glass. He folded his arms and started:

"Why were you up?"

Here we go, I thought. I stood up straight, prepared myself for a fight, and spoke.

"I wanted to make sure that Potter and them wouldn't break into your office."

His head bent in a feign of thought, but it was mocking. His eyes glittered strangely when he
raised his head so my eyes met his. It was like a mixture of anger and fear in those dark irises, but I could be mistaken.

"And you felt it was your personal responsibility to deal with them?"

"Yes."

"You are not here to perform the role of taskmaster," he said, his voice rising, getting closer to me.
"I am the teacher, you are the student- you are not to take such matters as Potter's discipline and ruling upon yourself!"

"You weren't going to do it."

He paused, a deadly pause in which I could feel his anger rising, and I bore it all- I wasn't going to crumble before him. When he spoke next, it was low and quite threatening.

"Are you so sure about that?"

"Well, you didn't answer me earlier today-"

"I do not answer to you!"

"And I can't read your mind! You make it seem as if I'm supposed to. How was I suppose to know?"

Again, those steely black eyes, the same damn ones as my own confronted me. It was like seeing
my twin.

"You had no business even snooping around Potter! Such behavior is unbecoming-"

"I didn't snoop, dad, they were talking about it in broad daylight! It was their fault if someone overheard them! And what was I going to do, dad? Sit on the information? Willingly stand by while score after score of atrocity is committed! I thought you taught me to uphold the law!"

I came closer, lowering my voice, almost hissing. If someone was watching, I suppose the resemblance between us was very scary- it was in anger when we were the same.

"You don't know how many things I've seen, dad! People cheating on tests, using magic in the halls, having sex in the dormitories! Do you know how many times I could have been running in here, yelling 'Professor! Professor! So-and-so rolled the toilet paper in the bathroom in the wrong direction!' "

I waved my hands about in mock distress. A hate-filled pause emerged, and the man whom I once worshiped almost as a god now was quickly causing me to convert.

"So why did you come this time?"

I stopped. Why did I tell him? He probably knew- the way he operated, he knew much of went on in the school. But I saw this for what it really was- a challenge to think on my feet. Maybe it was because I was so tired that I made up something.

"Because I figured that somehow, all the others would be punished in some way- the fact that those who cheated would fail, someone might catch a venereal disease, I dunno-"

I took only one breath, but it seemed the vigor I had almost attacked him with seeped through my feet into the floor. My hand now came out and accentuated every point, as if I was explaining something to a student.

"I told you because all the other crimes were against other students- but this was an invasion into your private space. Should Potter had succeeded in his plan, it would have broken the already fragile line between student and teacher- the line that should never be broken. Your authority as a teacher must not be compromised in any situation."

That's not the reason, my mind whispered back at me. He's your father, and whatever you might think or say, you care about him.

I paused. Sleep had disappeared, as the art of debate often causes it to, and it was only after I sat down that I realized that it was about 11:30 at night.

He said naught a word. I now wondered why he was fully dressed, complete with cloak and shoes, at this time of night. His brain was working overtime, but he hid it under his haunting mask. It was awhile before he spoke again, simply.

"I'm pulling you out of here and putting you back in Keaton."

I was dazed. Did he said what I thought he said?

"No, Dad- you can't-"

"I can and will." He crossed to his desk, sat down, and started writing the letter. I got up and crossed to his desk.

"No- you can't- dad!"

I saw his handwriting form the heading- Keaton School of Magic...

"Dad! Come on! You can't pull me out of Hogwarts because of this!"

"Look- you haven't learned to respect your elders- and until you do-"

That's it.

"Respect!" My hands found their way to his table. "Why should I respect you?"

This was a new anger- one that I had never seen before. He jumped up and came toward me, more
threatening than ever before. I think he would have hurt me if I had not moved or if he hadn't the mass of self-control. His mouth contorted into a horrible sneer and his whole body rang with contempt.

"Dammit! I am your father!" he spat, and I could almost see his spittle flying. "I know more than you ever will, you impudent, little, self-absorbed-"

"Your "knowedge" is based on weak, archetypal judgments! Ha! And you say I'm the naive one!"

His face contorted again, and for the first time I was scared; scared that my father might actually hit me, scared that I would become emotionally scarred; scared enough to cross away from him and put a chair between us.

I should have stopped- lord knows I should have. But I followed up, in a strong, but low voice:

"What's the use of knowledge if not used to make intelligent decisions?"

In the pause that followed I started to wonder how we would ever get out of this. I knew no distraction would come- everyone was asleep, happily in slumber...one of us would have to walk away. But to walk away would admit defeat- and some stubborn mule in both of us would not move.

Dad merely sighed, in which I detected true sorrow, perhaps a little bit of regret. He continued in a somewhat subdued tone.:

"...Despite all the ... events I have seen, despite temptations to be something else, I decided to bring some order into chaos- I decided to try to bring up a daughter in the world who has some sense of law and order, and when she abuses it...."

"No, you decided to try to raise a daughter with your exact ideals and judgments!"

Another silence. I had never materialized such a thought, and didn't know it where it would go. Even my logic was telling me I was off topic- radically off topic- but something about the human psyche kept me going.

"I am still young, dad." I spread my hands. "I have not had the opprotunity to form my own opinions about the world, because whenever I try to, I get punished!"

My emotions were getting ready to zoom, and I lost what control I had, but looking at me you would not have known. I maintained such a stoic poise as I stood up and crossed to his new position. What scared me now, even as I stood there, sitting with one leg on the desk, was how calm I was, how calm I appeared. My voice remained low and smooth, though my topic was not the easiest to debate; the crystal clear mind was forming arguments even as we sat, my mind refusing to be caught in the daze of emotion. I spoke as if I was commenting upon the change in the weather.

"You are not always right, Dad."

Again the murderous look- but so different from class- this time he was serious. He came closer but the thrill of finally beating him at his own game powered me like adrenaline: I stood straight, held my head high. Because I knew I was. Something- I can't tell exactly, whether it was a twitch of his lips, or a glint of his eye- told me I had made a point. He spoke in such a low and threatening voice, actually whispering fiercely, as if the words themselves were powerful enough:

"How dare you question my authority and actions! I only wanted to improve your education, wanted to give you intellectual satisfaction-"

"You punish me because you know I'm right."

I saw his eyes get wider out of fury; his fists started to clench, and I could have sworn he went for his wand....

It happened like lightning. It was hard- not enough to create a bruise, but I could feel the stinging of my teeth where they cut my gums.

He had really hit me. Not with a spell, not with his stinging speech, but with the back of his hand.

Time slowed down for a bit. I could feel the pain rise on my jaw; feel the development of what I later hoped would be a swollen lip where he had made contact.

I, I am proud to say, maintained my stature. It was like it hadn't happened. I didn't even raise my hand up to feel the wound. I continued to stare into my father's eyes, denying him any pleasure in my supposed weakened state. I merely said:

"Well. I will certainly not be hiding in your shadow anymore."

-and headed for the door, opened it, then without so much as a glance back, left the room.

Part One * Part Two * Part Three * Part Four