Chapter 5

The latch clicked softly, the door shifting slightly in its frame. Snape pressed his palm to the smooth wood, easing the door open slowly. He paused, straining his ears to listen for an alarm, hurried footsteps or any indication that someone was aware he was breaking into their house.

Nothing.

He pushed against the door a little more until he could ease through the gap he'd created, placing one booted foot carefully upon the floor, hesitant to find any creaking floorboards. Dobby scuttled in behind him, fingers working nervously at the front of his too-large shirt. Snape slid into the house and let the door close with a quiet snap behind them.

The small hall he'd walked into was nothing particularly ostentatious and was thankfully lacking the screaming portrait that inhabited Grimmauld Place and would have given away his presence in a second. It was painted a dark green, so dark that he was sure it looked black on cloudy days when the sun wasn't able to find its way through the teeny window that sat at the top of the staircase. The umbrella stand in the corner looked oddly familiar, and it took Snape a moment to recognize it as the twin to the troll leg that occupied the other Black house.

He held his wand tightly at his side, fingers curled around the wooden length that was ready to snap to attention at a split-second's notice. Slowly, testing each step for silence before settling his weight again, Snape crept further into the house. Dobby grasped the back of his robes, and Snape allowed it; if he had to make a quick escape from the house, it would help to have an elf capable of bypassing the wards.

The kitchen was empty, as was the dining room and the sitting room. He climbed the stairs with trepidation, wondering if he would be able to escape the house unidentified. The Black family was notoriously quick with a wand and not shy about casting spells that would generally qualify as illegal. It was not wise to be caught on their bad side.

The top of the stairs presented four doors, three of which were shut. Snape edged towards the fourth, which was nearly closed but not latched. Like the front door, he pressed against it gently, letting it swing open another few inches nearly on its own.

He blinked against the bright yellow walls, which were vibrant with the colour of a sunshine Britain was incapable of getting. The furniture was whitewashed, and the floorboards were a honeyed hue. The room was the complete antithesis of the rest of the house, sunny and so undeniably alive.

The only dark spot in the room was the girl.

Snape withdrew his body slightly, hiding himself from view, allowing a wordless Notice-Me-Not charm to wash over him. It was the same girl he had seen the first night, he was sure of it, and that made her the infamous Hydra. She had seated herself in a large chair, draping her legs over one arm and resting her neck against the other. Her attention was placed entirely in a book that she held cradled on her thighs, and she turned the page with nothing short of reverence. Her hair was jet black, contrasting with pale skin that a poet would have described in loving detail as alabaster, dressed not in Muggle clothes, but a simple black robe that was unbuttoned near the neck.

Snape's pulse slowed as he realized she had not noticed him hovering in her doorway, and sat back to watch her. The girl appeared to be immersed in her book, her toes twitching slightly as she read. Her dark hair fell into her face, and she pushed it back with little grace and more irritation as she flipped a page. She blew a huffing breath at a strand of hair that insisted on falling into her sight. She turned another page.

He nearly cursed aloud when Dobby let out a high-pitched squeak, having peered around the doorframe as well and spotting the girl. Her head snapped up, her eyes narrowed at the direction the sound had come from. Snape raised his wand an inch, prepared to Obliviate the girl if worse came to worst. Soft footsteps padded towards him, pausing on the other side of the door.

"Who's there?" she called, and Snape caught the waver in a voice that otherwise tried to be strong and intimidating. In lieu of answering, he merely shoved Dobby behind him, hiding him from sight. "I said, who's there?" she called again to the silence.

The door was suddenly wrenched open, and Snape found himself standing two feet away from a slight girl with narrowed eyes and a wand in her hand, his wand pointed straight at her forehead. The Notice-Me-Not charm could not withstand her intense search for an intruder, and her sight fell upon him. Her eyes became very wide, and Snape noted that they were as dark as her hair.

"Drop it," he said, letting his voice take on that soft and dangerous quality that had served him well both as a Death Eater and a teacher. The girl's fingers tightened momentarily around her wand before releasing it to clatter on the floor. He Summoned it and pocketed it, ignoring the way the girl gaped at him. "Sit down," he said, gesturing toward the chair she had occupied only moments before.

"You're not here to hurt me, are you?" she asked, her voice full of false bravado as she returned to the chair. "You obviously don't know who I am, but there would be awful consequences if you hurt me."

"I fail to see what kind of dire actions would be taken against me if I touched your person," Snape sneered. "But seeing as I have no desire to do so, I cannot help but find your pleading to be pathetic and misguided."

The girl seated herself at the very edge of her expansive chair, every muscle quivering with the instinct to run. "I mean it," she said, her voice a little stronger. "My grandmother will be home soon, and you don't want to tangle with her."

"Yes, your grandmother. I'd be meaning to ask you about that." Snape brushed a bit of lint off his robes and seated himself at the end of the girl's bed. "She would be Druella Black, correct?"

The girl stared at him, her mouth clamped tightly shut. Then her eyes flickered to the open door, where they suddenly grew wide again. "Dobby!" she called out, sounding relieved and confused all at once.

"Miss Hydra," Dobby said, scrambling into the room from where he had been watching in the hallway. "You mustn't fear Professor Snape, miss! He wouldn't harm a house-elf, oh, no he wouldn't!"

Hydra glanced back at Snape with a reassessing gaze. "Did Dobby bring you here?" she asked. Snape nodded, a single incline of his head. "Why?"

"I asked him to do so, and he agreed to assist me."

"But why?" the girl pressed, sounding vaguely annoyed.

"I am attempting to solve the mystery as to why Bellatrix Lestrange finds herself at this humble abode more often than her husband can find her at their home."

"Ah."

They sat in silence as Dobby fidgeted with barely restrained energy between them. "Bellatrix is your mother," Snape finally said. The girl nodded much in the same manner that he had. "But you are not the daughter of Rodolphus Lestrange." It was not a question.

"No," she replied. "I'm not. I don't know who my father is." He wasn't sure if the blithe look on her face was truthful or if she was simply an accomplished liar. "Did you really come all this way just to ask me that? Wouldn't it have been easier to ask Bella?"

Snape let out a rough laugh. "It would be easier to convince a snake to give up its poison than to convince Bellatrix to give up a secret she did not wish to be made known."

The girl nodded in agreement. She slanted her eyes back towards Snape again. "Are you here to test me before my debut?"

"Your debut?"

"Into society, of course. Bella and Grandmother have been training me for it for as long as I can remember." She straightened her back, correcting her posture as if recalling lessons that had been drilled into her head.

"I test the dunderheads at Hogwarts often enough; there is no need to do so during my free time." She looked rather interested at this, tucking her legs up under her body as she turned to face him more fully.

"You teach at Hogwarts?" she asked, excited. "I've always wanted to go to school. Oh, can you imagine having a best friend? Sometimes I wish I had someone to talk to, but I only manage to get to the park once in a while, when Bella is away and Grandmother doesn't want to see me, and that's the only place where I ever see people my age." Snape was taken aback by the wistful tone in her voice.

He could not stop himself from asking. "Who educates you?"

"Grandmother, and Bella, when she comes around. Charms and curses, etiquette, managing a household, that sort of thing."

It was an education that belonged to the eighteenth century, given to a woman whose only goal in life was to snag a husband and then settle down and produce children, although apparently she would be cursing someone while she was at it. Snape got to his feet and paced the impossibly bright room, attempting to fit the puzzle together when he was still missing most of the pieces.

He paused when he spotted the overturned book, dumped upon the floor when she had heard Dobby outside the room. Crouching, Snape grasped the tome and turned it over. Sense and Sensibility, a Muggle novel with little relevance to the modern world. He handed it back to her and watched as she smoothed the crinkled pages with a careful hand.

"Miss Hydra," Dobby spoke up suddenly, apparently having had enough of being quiet in the background. "Dobby has been missing you greatly, miss."

"Oh, Dobby, I've missed you too." And she opened her arms to let the house-elf run into them, gathering the small creature up in a hug. "Brouny is no fun at all, and he doesn't keep my secrets like you do." Dobby began to look fearful at that pronouncement, his eyes darting back and forth between the young girl and Snape. He appeared to come to a decision and wrenched himself from her grasp in order to throw his body upon the floor and beat his head against the floorboards.

"Bad Dobby!" he shouted. "Bad Dobby!"

"No, Dobby!" the girl cried, pulling at his hands and feet in her desperation to make him stop. "Why are you punishing yourself?"

"Dobby has told Miss's secrets!" Dobby wailed. The girl froze.

"Who have you told? What have you told them?" The elf continued to moan. "Dobby!" she shouted. "Who. Did. You. Tell?"

"Dobby told Professor Snape!" he cried, slumping bonelessly to the floor. The girl whirled to face Snape, who stood behind her.

"That wretched elf only told me who you were and your relation to the Black family, that is all. If you have made the error of telling a house-elf your deepest secrets, then it appears that he is still holding them close to his chest," Snape snapped. Her shoulders slumped in relief.

"Don't, Dobby," she crooned to the pitiful elf. "It's alright. I didn't mean to shout." She pet his back softly until the moans ceased. "There, there."

She was an awfully sentimental creature, for having grown up ensconced in a Black household with little escape. She was helping Dobby to his feet and patting his cheeks dry with her sleeve, murmuring to him fondly the entire time.

"What is Bella preparing you for?" Snape asked as she settled back into her chair.

The front door slammed.

The girl jumped to her feet, stashing her book under the seat cushion and pushing him towards the elf. "Go!" she hissed at them. "Before she comes upstairs! Go!" she repeated when they did not immediately disappear. Snape reached down to clasp Dobby's tiny hand, only just catching the girl's last words-

"But please come back and visit!"