At about five o'clock, I drag myself out of the empty Ravenclaw common room and make my way to the Great Hall for dinner. I'm surprised to see that almost every spot at the table is taken. Dumbledore sits at the head of the table, Snape at the foot of it. All of the students except the single Slytherin are there, plus most of the teachers who were still at the school.

I take a seat in one of the only empty chairs, directly on Snape's left. To my left is Adam, and I give him a small smile as I sit. I can barely make myself raise my chin to face Snape, but I do. It's okay. We worked things out- I think.

He promised.

I start loading my plate with food without talking to anyone. Across from me sits Professor McGonagall. Even without Snape next to me I would be too intimidated to say a word in front of McGonagall, so with all things combined I'm happy to stay silent.

At the middle and the other end of the table, everyone is chattering away happily. Even McGonagall hasn't seemed to notice me, she's discussing something with Professor Sprout next to her. I think they're talking at the Devil's Snare that Sprout is trying to grow or, at least, contain. . .

"How are your classes going?"

I jump in my seat and look around wildly, at first not sure who's talking to me. Snape is the only person looking in my direction, so I can only assume it was him.

"Oh! oh, they- they're good!" I say, taken by surprise. "Yeah. They're fun. My grades are good," I add hopefully. "Mostly O's and E's!"

I look and sound far too bright, like I'm trying way too hard. I tell myself to calm down.

"How nice, that's impressive for a young student." He might have meant that as a compliment; I think he did, but Snape sounds as positively unimpressed as possible. He purses his lips in what might be regarded as an attempt at a smile. However, that's probably getting too optimistic to think that.

"Thanks," I say, a bit hesitant this time. "So, yeah. . ."

"Maybe that Ravenclaw blood is showing in you. Your mother always had the top grades," Snape says, attempting more conversation. A wave of pain hit me as I remember my mum, but I push it away.

"Yeah, maybe," I reply, a bit easier this time. "I think I'm pretty similar to her."

"You're more like her than you know," Snape says dryly, but he sounds sorrowful and as though he's yearning for something, for her. I don't say anything, it seems as though something is on the tip of his tongue. I'm right.

"You have my looks, just enough, but you, your mind, it's all her's." I'm not sure where this bit of sentiment came from, but I'm prepared to roll with it. I glance at the others around us, but nobody is paying any attention.

"I might be like you, just a bit. I'm not sure," I say. "But you're right, I do look like you. Sir, what can you tell me about Mum?"

"What about her?" Snape asks slowly, frowning.

"Anything," I answer simply. Snape sighs.

"She was smart. Ravenclaw through and through. Very calm, practical, level-headed. Rarely lost her temper or got angry. She hated me until at least sixth year. I'm not sure she ever stopped hating me."

"Why'd she hate you?"

"Because, if you have not noticed, I am not the nicest person," he tells me sarcastically. "She wanted nothing to do with me."

This left me wondering, how on earth did I happen if they hated each other? It was if he read my mind.

"We lived in the same town. Her parents died the summer after our fifth year, killed by His side in the first war. She moved in with her aunt, who lived next door to me. We became. . . unlikely friends. Then, when we were twenty and both back in Spinner's End, things. . . happened." He looks incredibly awkward.

"But, although she was civil and kind in conversation, she never quite forgave me for my . . . allegiance." He's recovered from the awkwardness quickly, but his eyes have dropped to look at his plate instead of me.

"Thank you for telling me, Sir," I reply. He nods, but doesn't say a word. I realize I'm not going to get much more out of him tonight after all that, but this was good; this was progress.

I return to eating my food. I'd barely gotten a few bites down as Snape had been talking. The dinner tastes wonderful.

"What was all that?" I jump at Adam's voice. I'd forgotten he was on the other side of me.

"Oh my gosh, were you listening to us?" I ask, quiet but urgent. I glance at Snape, but he's discussing something with McGonagall already. Adam looks scared at my tone of voice.

"I mean, I- I couldn't really help it," he stammers. "No one was talking to me!"

"What did you hear?" I whisper. If this got out, I don't know what would happen. If everyone found out that I, the bright little Ravenclaw, was Snape's daughter, it could be bad. I had no doubt that Snape agreed. He's even more closed off that me.

"Just you talking to Professor Snape," Adam says quickly. "About your mum? And him?"

"You don't tell a soul what you heard," I tell him. "Meet me outside the Great Hall after dinner, okay?"

He nods at me, looking slightly terrified. I nod once in return, and then go back to my meal.

*******************

"Why did you want to meet me?" Adam asks.

"Cmon, I'm the only Ravenclaw around right now, we're going to my common room," I reply, grabbing his hand and pulling him forwards.

I don't answer his several questions until we're safe in Ravenclaw tower. I throw myself down in an armchair by the fireplace.

"Sit," I order. He sits in the chair next to mine.

"Listen, you heard stuff at dinner that nobody except me and Professor Snape and Dumbledore know, alright? So I'll explain it, but you literally can't tell anyone." He looks confused, but he just says,

"Okay."

"So Snape was telling me about my mom," I start, "cause she died earlier this school year. And he knew her really well, better than most. And nobody knows this except me and him and Dumbledore, right, but Snape is my father." I let that sink in, and Adam's face registers shock but he doesn't talk.

"I didn't know until September," I continue. "He told me a week or so into school. But that's why I was talking to him at dinner about Mum and him and me and everything."

"So . . ." Adam began, "why is it a secret?" My eyes widen.

"Cause- cause I can't tell anyone! It could be bad."

"That's not a very good reason," he says, furrowing his brow and thinking. "Why would it be bad? Nobody would care. And what's wrong with being the teacher's kid? The others would probably worship you."

"But they wouldn't!" I reply. "They'd probably make fun of me or I'd be "that kid" or they'd hate me because I'd get special treatment!"

"You don't seem like the kind of person to worry about what people think of you," Adam tells me quietly. "And he would never treat you differently, you know that. Are you embarrassed by it? Or by Professor Snape?"

"No, I- I'm not!" I say angrily. "That's not it at all!" Adam peers at me.

"It is, so stop lying to me. We're friends, right? Friends don't lie."

His words stop me. I don't want to admit it, but he's right. About all of it. I don't want anybody to know because I'm embarrassed by Snape and his actions and his reputation, and I'm his daughter.