Amelia Snape and the philosopher's stone

Severus Snape may of loved Lily Evans, but they were not together. Right?

Well... Sort of, what if one night in Hogwarts year seven at a graduation ball this changed? A child, Amelia Snape is that change.
After the death of James and Lily Potter, a tradgedy leaving Harry an orphan and Amelia... A half orphan?

She may come across as a little... Unique, but wouldn't you be if you were raised by Snape?

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5. A prediction

"Come on Chris!" I shout, pounding on his dormitory door. He has been in there for ages, that boy takes his appearance way to seriously. 
After a while, and another ferocious banging on the door, he come walking out. Hair spiked up and uniform messy enough to pass off as decent, but with an underlying hint of rebel to the slanted tie and un-tucked shirt he wore (still creased). 
"Finished now?" I ask him sarcastically as we walk out the common room.  He rolls his eyes and mutters something about "women" 
"Potter looks happy enough in Gryffindor. Where dwell the weak of mind!" Chris says as we sit down for breakfast. I freeze, my porridge slowly dripping off my ladle onto the dark brown table, turning my neck to glare at him. 
"My Mum was a Gryffindor Chris." I say quietly, but he does not seem to hear me. I return to my ladle in time to see the last of my porridge slide off the large metal spoon.  Sighing I wave my wand over it whispering "Tergeo!" quietly, so nobody can hear me. It siphons off the large glob that was once going to be my breakfast. 
This time, going for a safer option, I reach for my typical toast and begin to spread jam on it. Once people are beginning to finish breakfast, the heads of years start to come down from the staff table, and hand out the timetables for the new year. 
"Mr Hocking," Dad, or as im supposed to say now... Professor Snape, begins as he approaches our end of the table, " you passed potions with an acceptable, but your charms was reportedly abysmal as was defence against dark arts and Herbology." Dad never seemed to like Chris, it was the reason I was not allowed to have him round in the holidays. Currently he was sneering as he continued to read out Chris poor marks. 
"So what exactly am I cleared to do then, sir?" Chris said, sarcasm more pronounced than ever in his tone and expression. 
"Potions, care of magical creatures, transfiguration, Astronomy and history of magic. You only just made it in Divination." another Snape smirk, " were it not for the alarming predictions you made about the end of the world approaching, and the fact Trewlaney was the examiner, I seriously doubt you would of scraped by in that either." 
The side of me that remains loyal to Chris, is saying Dad is wrong. The one that heard his mutters of Gryffindor, is nodding its approval of Dads words. In a way... They are true. Chris does not care for his studies. He sailed through exams with no revision whatsoever and occasionally asks to borrow my notes on various subjects. Then lost lost them, it meant I made copies of all my work and was careful to have extra to hand at all times. 
"Now, Miss Snape. " a few people turn around to look at how I will get treated. They need not worry, Dad treats me as a student even at home. Professionalism people call it, most say its just SNAPE though. They would be correct.  "You passed all exams, Professor Flitwick was very impressed with all the charms you managed to perform. Here is your timetable for this year." with a wave of his wand, he hands me a colour coded timetable full of little squares indicating which hour I have for each lesson. I have Divination first, then Charms followed by potions. After dinner its double care of magical creatures and then my last lesson of the day is Arithmancy. 
"What do you have first? I ask Chris, forgetting my quarrel with him as I look down at the parchments bearing our weekly timetable. 
"Divination and then double Transfiguration." he makes a "whohoo" gesture, than turns to stab his eggs viscously with his fork.  "Why does your Dad hate me?" he mutters. Im not the kind of person to beat around the bush, so I just shrug. 
"Don't know... He won't let you come round in the summer either." I say. He shrugs, as if he does  not care. Probably doesn't, he is like that. I used to hate Chris, the only reason we ever became friends was because he once helped me out of a spot of trouble. 
"Come on, lets go Divination" He says, throwing down his fork. I agree readily, eager to be rid of the busy great hall. 
We head up to the North tower in silence, Chris is no doubt still seething about Dads commentary on his marks, and I generally just am soaking up the silence. When we reach the trap door and have finally scrambled through it, the classrooms fumes fill our nostrils. I never quite get why she has the room like this... I manage to still be a seer in fresh air. Although, if im near Dad the air is not too fresh really... 
"Welcome my dears, I was expecting you of course..." Says Professor Trewlaney as we take our usual seats. Me in the front, Chris at the back. She gestures with a small arm flourish to a new crystal ball sitting grandly on her table next to the chintz armchair and perfumed fire. 
"Is that the new one Professor?" I ask keenly, as she nods mystically, I stand up again and approach the table. The mists swirling inside the glass tantalise me with the many shapes and twists they perform. 
"Yes, it arrived yesterday. A gift from that seer magazine I was telling you about previously dear." She smiles as I peer into it. Her magnified eyes watching me closely, then she glances at the ball herself. " Do you see anything dearest?" I nod, watching the swirls dancing around. 
Dimly I register her asking the class to gather round, but the main part of my focus is on the new shapes being formed. It is like I myself am swirling round with them, moving through the vapours. Soaring through all infinity and time freezes, waiting for me. 
Suddenly, as if my eyes are newly opened... I awaken... 
The class is staring at me, some watching in awe. Others look at me in irritation, I have stolen the show. Chris has not bothered even getting off his chair, and is still at the back of the room. Idly drumming on the desk with one hand, whilst the other doodles on a small scrap of parchment. 
"Did I say anything Professor?" I ask tentatively. She nods impressively. 
"Yes dear... If im not much mistaken you were talking of a man... With a dark purpose, wearing sheeps clothes whose mind is his own no more."

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