Unexpected Meeting (Rasalas Jones, open)

[Severus Snape]

When Snape had received an owl from Rasalas Jones, it had taken him a few minutes to remember just who she was. Ah, yes, she had been a Slytherin during the time he had been Potions Master. If he remembered correctly, she had been quite enthusiastic about the subject. Not exactly the best, but not too horrible, either.

Then again, from Snape, that was a pretty high compliment. Either way, her owl had intrigued him. Why on earth was a student he hadn't been that close to, even though she'd been in his House, sending him an owl, asking to meet?

For all he knew, it could be a trap (yes, he was still wary, even though things had been calm for a bit), but he had to admit: he was curious.

Curious enough to send an owl back, arranging a time and place to meet.

And so, here he was, sipping a butterbeer (yes, it might seem odd to people, but he quite enjoyed the taste), waiting for his former student to show up.

[Rasalas Jones]

When Ras received the owl back she was shocked, pleased but shocked nonetheless. So she showered, dressed then headed to where she always disparated. She turned to see her dog following her, she sighed then pointed back to the house. "Go home, Angel." The dog whined but went back home anyway. She shook her head, she didn't want to take her dog to a pub where animals might not be welcomed.

After she disparated then aparating to Hogsmeade for what felt like the third or fourth time she made her way to The Three Broomsticks. She nodded at some of the witches and wizards she passed. When she made it to the pub she opened the door and smiled as she took in the smell of the mixture of butterbeer, firewhiskey and pipe smoke.

Her eyes scanned the place before they stopped on the man she was there to meet. She was glad he had wanted to meet up, she had missed Hogwarts and thus missed him. She walked over to the bar ordered a butterbeer then after receiving it she made her way to the professor. The man still looked the same as ever, once she made it to the table she sat across from him and smiled. "Hello, Professor, I'm glad you wanted to meet up."

[Severus Snape]

Yes, this was certainly going to be an interesting day. Snape had no idea what the girl might want, but, yes, he had to find out. It had been a long time since one of his former students had sent him an owl like that, asking to meet up with him.

But, he had shown up, and he was willing to see what Miss Jones wanted; she was a former Slytherin and he was rather loyal to those who had been in his house. After all, that was one of the qualities that made a good Slytherin, was loyalty.

And then the girl who had sent him the owl was there, butterbeer in her hand as she sat down.

"Good afternoon, Miss Jones," Snape replied, in his usual voice. He had never had to speak very loudly to be heard, even in a crowded place such as The Three Broomsticks.

"Now, why was it that you were interested in seeing me?" he asked, getting straight to the point. He wasn't exactly one to beat around the bush, and he saw no reason for starting such a practice now. After all, he was still a professor and, while she might not be his student anymore, she had been at one point, and that sort of relationship demanded respect.

If she showed him the proper respect, he would be much more likely to stay for a little bit, joining in the small talk that was bound to happen. And clearly, that was one of the things that Miss Jones wanted. If that was the case, she was going to have to earn his time.

[Rasalas Jones]

"Good afternoon, sir." Ras held her head up, "like I stated in my letter I wanted to hear about how the chool was faring. Also as I stated in said letter I am curious as to how you have been faring." She had a feeling that he didn't trust her and she didn't really blame him, even though the war was over there were still many people you could not trust. After taking a sip of her drink she stated, "I found out that Regulas Black is... or rather was my father."

She didn't know why she told him that but she was glad she had told someone from her past. He was someone she always trusted and always would trust until someone had proof of him being untrustworthy.

"I haven't seen much of anyone from Slytherin or the other houses from my years at Hogwarts. I know that we didn't speak much in school but I figured perhaps we could try now." She didn't think he would want to, she always wanted to but in school he intimidated her so that she didn't want to. She didn't find him as intimidating as she did in school but he was still intimidating.

[Severus Snape]

Apparently, all the girl had in mind was small talk. Snape had never really been good at that sort of thing, but as he had been reminded by ... several people, he should probably start learning. After all, if the people of the wizarding world were going to accept him as one of their heroes, he had to be able to talk to people.

He had opened his mouth to actually say something ... when the Jones girl mentioned that Regulus Black was her father. Snape had known the younger man during Regulus's time with the Death Eaters. If he remembered correctly, Regulus had gone off without saying a word to anyone, and had never come back.

Most people thought that Voldemort had simply killed him, but Snape knew better than that. He had been the Dark Lord's right hand man for quite some time, by that point. Granted, he'd had to persuade Voldemort to see that he was "still on the side of the Death Eaters, still loyal to Voldemort" once he had returned, and he had managed, until the very end, to convince everyone that he was working for the Dark Lord.

Which was problematic for him, now. Yes, there were people like (apparently) Miss Jones, here, who did not believe that he had been on the side of the Death Eaters, but almost everyone else in the wizarding world still questioned his true loyalties.

"That, Miss Jones, is a very interesting question," he murmured. "The school has managed to be rebuilt in the three years since the Dark Lord's downfall, but there are still some things that are ... not quite the same."

"As for the Houses, people have begun to realize that not everyone in Slytherin House is a Death Eater." A fact that would be quite useful for the younger generations. It was hard, dealing with prejudice and discrimination, simply because of where the Sorting Hat had placed you when you were eleven.

[Rasalas Jones]

"I remember when I was in school the only person from another house that would talk to me was my brother." She shook her head, "You can call me Rasalas, sir." She had said that as a way of telling him he could if he wanted to. She doubted he would after all these years, she bit her lower lip. "I was told that he died getting Slytherin's locket. Or as Sirius put it 'Slytherin's stupid locket'." She held back a laugh as she found it a little funny.

"He's the one that told me about it and about him being my father. Just by this ring." She fingered the ring hanging from the chain around her neck. She took a sip of her butterbeer before clearing her throat. She wasn't sure what all to say to the man but something did come to her. "The school will never be the same as it was when the founders created it. Sometimes I think of being a professor." Though she doubted she would be any good, she also doubted they needed professors. She had a few ideas of what she wanted to do but nothing really called out to her.

[Severus Snape]

Snape wasn't quite comfortable calling his former student by her forename. Perhaps, if, for some reason, he got to know her better, that would change, but for now, he would continue to call her Miss Jones. After all, he had been her professor and, though she was no longer in school, that was something that ... basically stayed the same, relationship-wise.

"Yes, there is still quite a bit of ... rivalry between the Houses, shall we say," he said dryly. It would take rather a long time to mend that sort of rift. After all, it had started centuries ago, with the Founders.

Sometimes, closest friends turned out to be the bitterest of enemies. Such had been the case with Gryiffindor and Slytherin.

"Ah, yes, the locket," Snape responded. He had heard of the locket-turned-Horcrux that had belonged to the founder of Slytherin House. It was a pity, really, that the Dark Lord had managed to get his hands on such a precious heirloom. He had managed to turn it into something that almost no other wizard would even think about, had managed to defile it.

As Head of Slytherin House, Snape had quite a bit of pride in the Slytherin name; it was tragic, what Voldemort had done.

"No, it won't," he agreed. When the school had been founded, after all, there had not been nearly as much rivalry. "It would take more than just magic to reconcile the Houses, now."

And then, Miss Jones admitted that she had thought of being a Professor. "Of what subject?" he asked, raising an eyebrow slightly. As far as he knew, there were not currently any openings, although, knowing Dumbledore, something could probably be found, if she wanted it badly enough and qualified for a position.

[Rasalas Jones]

"My brother was the only Gryffindor I knew liked me, but that was after he was out of school when I started." Ras shrugged, she knew the school houses would always stay the same, look at her and Ron Weasley. "I was thinking of Muggle Studies, I know alot about them since I was raised by them. Why was she talking about Muggles as if they were just things and not people? She shook her head, some of the other Slytherins must have rubbed off on her.

"But I'm not sure, really, what I want to do. They are so many jobs but nothing really calls out to me." She wondered what made him want to be a professor, but she didn't want to pry. She took a deep breath wondering if he could give her ideas on what to do.

She looked around wondering what to talk about, "So how old is your daughter?" She looked at him and wondered if she would have known her in school. Though she didn't remember anyone with Snape with a last name. "Also I am curious, sir, what made you become a professor?" Though she thought about not asking her curiosity got the best of her.

[Severus Snape]

Well, quite frankly, he was glad that Miss Jones was a former Slytherin or he probably would never have shown up for this rather interesting, unexpected meeting. Not to say that he really had anything against the other Houses ... for the most part. Well, all right, he is a bit biased, being the Head of Slytherin House and all, but that's beside the point.

"Perhaps you and Miss Granger should both teach Muggle Studies," he suggested dryly. Really, though, he was about three-quarters of the way serious about that. If something like that happened, there would be a former Gryffindor perspective and a former Slytherin perspective of the same subject. Surely, different perspectives on the same subject couldn't hurt.

"I would advise you to talk to Dumbledore about this sort of thing," Snape said. "He does like to help, after all, but be prepared for him to go off topic for a while; he does tend to ramble." And that was, perhaps, the understatement of the century.

But then, the subject turned to Sam. Snape smiled inwardly, not quite allowing the expression to reach his mouth or his eyes. "Sam is fifteen. She's in her fifth year at Hogwarts and doing Slytherin House proud."

And then another rather abrupt subject change. Well, she was still rather young; it was sometimes hard for younger people to stay on the same topic for very long; he'd learned how to follow this sort of conversation long ago, with his students.

"At that point in time, I needed a source of income." He didn't add that he had also been intended to be a spy, of sorts, really; that was not the sort of thing he'd rather share, at the moment.

[Rasalas Jones]

"I need the money, but I'm not really sure what job to get." It was true she needed the money to keep her farm up, the money her grandparents left for it was dwindling down. Maybe she should go to Dumbledore and ask him for a job, "If it's anything like his speeches, then I can handle it, plus my grandfather was the same way. You could talk to him about the news and he would turn it into talking about the wildlife around the farm." She shook her head before finishing her drink, she missed him and her grandmother but she had their farm to remember them by.

"I'm sorry I keep changing the topic but it's been a while since I've seen you and we never really talked before." Rasalas took a deep breath to remain focused on one topic. "I need the money for the farm. The money supply is getting low so I need a job soon." She always looked up to her old Head of House so she wanted to get his opinion on jobs.

"The farm and the animals are the only link to my grandparents, I do wish my brother would help but he wants nothing to do with the farm." She would never understand why he hated the farm so much.

[Severus Snape]

As a Professor, it was his duty to hear the problems of his students (and yes, occasionally, former students) and to help where he could. Of course, simply because it was his duty did not mean he had to like it. Severus Snape wasn't exactly the best at giving advice; he tended to keep to himself, for the most part. Or at least, he had, before Sam.

But now, he had a teenage daughter at home, and he had to worry about her. Granted, she didn't often come to him for advice, but when she did, he tried his best.

Miss Jones was a former student, and she had been in his House; he had to try to give her the best advice he could.

"Yes, Miss Jones, I think you should talk to the Headmaster; it seems like the best solution to your problem. And as for your brother, send him an owl and try to talk to him." Yes, Snape felt rather awkward giving personal advice like that. Professional advice, yes, that was possible, but Snape wasn't a very ... interpersonal sort of person.

[Samantha Snape]

In all honesty, she knew she would end up in trouble if she were caught. Caught at what, one may ask. Skipping, simply put. However, she did have good reason. Normally, she would only head for Mass on Sunday, and then it wasn't even really skipping school so much as just sneaking out. This time, however, things were much different. It was a school day, and though she knew this could very easily cost her either her prefect title, or her place on the Slytherin Quidditch team - if not both - she felt it had had to be done. Today, after all, was the anniversary of her mother's death, and she had felt the need to go to Mass and then to Confession afterwards.

As she didn't want to be recognized as a Hogwarts student, she had opted to dress in Muggle fashion. Of course, she had transfigured her clothes before Mass (into a dress shirt, trousers, and small-heeled boots) and then back to her current attire after her Confession. As of now, a rather tight, black t-shirt, which read Evanescence in white Gothic script and had lyrics scrawled all over it in different neon pens adorned her torso, with a tattered, red long-sleeved one under that. Slightly fitted and shredded in places boys jeans clung to her long legs, their color black; black, slightly ratty converses adorned her feet. A purple knitted cap rested over her brilliantly red hair, which hung haphazardly loose. Some ended up on her forehead as bangs, and most of it just tumbled every which way down her back and shoulders. Yes, her style was both tomboyish and punk-rocker chick; she liked it that way, even if her father couldn't understand it. He just let her do as she pleased these days - Hell, ever since her mother had passed on, really, though it had gotten worse in her first year, when he was busy being Headmaster and DADA professor.

Shaking these thoughts from her mind, the tall girl made her way to the Three Broomsticks; she often came here to think because, though it wasn't too quiet and people often came here, she could be away from her fellow Hogwarts students. Despite the fact that her hair was the scarlet normally associated with Gryffindors, the teen could honestly say that she was the last thing from a Gryffindor. But, as she weren't wearing any Hogwarts paraphernalia, one could only guess at her house. Of course, if she were to remove her thin, pale, bony hands from her pockets, one could easily take note of what house she was in; her nails were painted green and silver.

Another thing which would have been odd to see on anyone of her age, especially one of English descent, would be her necklace. The gold chain was slightly thin in places, showing its age, and the pendant which hung from it was about medium sized, neither too small to be overlooked, nor too big to be in-your-face. It had been her mother's, and had clearly marked the woman for what she was. Really, it was what all her mothers relatives were - the ones here, anyway. They were Catholics in an Anglican nation. The teen found herself so also, as her mother had been devout, and her father just didn't seem to care one way or the other.

Snapping out of her thoughts when she reached the establishment, the black-eyed redhead made her way in. She didn't expect it to be empty, but something froze her up. Other people were here too - and she couldn't hide for very long. Slipping into a chair at a table just out of sight from the two conversing, she wondered if she should just leave now and save herself the trouble of being seen. Something, however, kept here there. So as not to interrupt - and because of her painfully shy nature - the pale girl merely watched silently. With a mental sigh, the fifth year added today to her mental list of days she cursed her shyness, and continued to watch the two exchange words. She knew both - her father, Severus Snape, and Rasalas Jones - but only one well; she and Rasalas had known one another as well as any pair of housemates who ran in different circles, and were anything more than two years apart could.

The frightfully skinny - most would say skeletal - girl just hoped neither of them lashed out when they realized that she was there.

[Severus Snape]

Severus had been about to respond to Miss Rasalas Jones, to add another thought, one that simply continued along his same line of thinking that he had told her when they started this conversation when he saw a familiar flash of red.

For a moment, he thought it was simply a Gryffindor skipping classes, but then he saw that no, it was not a Gryffindor. Yes, the hair was the right color for a Gryffindor student, but the student that the brilliant hair was attached to was his daughter.

He knew immediately why she was skipping classes that day, and his heart ached with remembrance.

It had been seven years since Ciara had died, and each year, when the anniversary of her death came around, he locked himself in his room with his memories.

This year, for some reason, he had thought it was tomorrow instead of today, otherwise he would have gone to meet Miss Jones on another day.

Taking a deep breath, he gestured to his daughter to join them. He hoped that she would tell him right up front what she was doing outside of Hogwarts, even though he already knew.

Then again, he also hoped that she would at least have a butterbeer; that would definitely help with how ridiculously thin she was.


((Blech, short, I know. >_<))

[Samantha Snape]

She had been seriously considering leaving, when she noticed that she had been seen. With an inaudible sigh, Sam slid from her chair, when her father beckoned her over. As she made her way over, she mentally cataloged her body. A nearly skeletal face, fleshless collarbones and ribs, a waist which no-longer existed; near-twig-like arms which tapered down into easily snap-able wrists and spider-like hands. Hips that had no shape but that of her knife-like bones, thighs that had at least three inches of space between them which moved down toward wasted calves and spindly ankles. All of which, to her warped perception, seemed far too much still...

Snapping out of her thoughts, she plastered an at least semi-agreeable expression onto her face. Brushing her hair out of her face - some of it always managed to do what she didn't want it to - she stood behind a chair just one over from her father. She placed had hands upon the back, and yet made no move to sit; the bones of her hands looked as if they were to almost rip through the skin, when she curled her fingers about the wood. Sam nodded in greeting to Rasalas, and then shifted her gaze to her father. Obsidian depths locked with their onyx mirror. For a moment, the pale, anorexic girl was silent. Then, she spoke. It was soft, and as always, like silk-covered-steel - exactly the same as her father's own voice was.

"Hello, Father." A pause. Then, "I don't think I need to explain why I'm here." It was a statement, not a question. Everything she said was; if she spoke at all.

[Rasalas Jones]

Rasalas had remained silent as she was thinking over his words but when her eyes landed on the girl he beckoned over she held back a gasp. She could tell the girl was basically skin and bones just by looking at her face. Sure Ras had went through a faze where she thought she needed to lose weight but she never got that] bad. She hoped she didn't look as horrified as she felt upon seeing the girl.

She looked at the girl's hands and almost winced when she saw how bony they were. She glanced at Snape to see if he were seeing it, the child was troubled. She cleared her throat to also clear her mind, she looked at the girl when she had called Snape 'Father'. So, this is his daughter. She looked down for a moment before looking at the girl, "Why don't you join us?" She would have forced a smile but almost anyone could see through those.

Her hand went to fiddle with her father's ring as she glanced between Snape and the girl. She just couldn't tell if he knew about his daughter basically being a walking skeleton or not. She hoped he did and could help her before she ends up dying.