#Greekgods | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

olympians367 · 7 days

Text

How can one minor change affect the future?

One morning, Severus Snape wakes up to find an infant on his doorstep with only a note to explain its appearance. A friend of his - one that had gone missing after Hogwarts and presumed dead - was begging him to care for her daughter, a girl who had caught the attention of the Dark Lord.

Unbeknownst to him, he has just been entrusted with the responsibility of raising the daughter of Poseidon, a child whose powers transcends that of Heracles; a child who has been fated to either save Olympus . . . or destroy it. A child like this being raised and taught by a cold and emotionally reserved man, who knows the Dark Arts and potion-making like the back of his hand, could have a less than favorable outcome.

After eleven years of being isolated from the wizarding world, Evangeline is starting her first day at Hogwarts, and is about to make a shocking discovery.

[Chapters are between two to five thousand words long.]

Chapter Four - Flying Lesson Disaster

“I hear you’ll be having flying lessons tomorrow,” Snape said, taking a sip of his tea.

Evangeline was in her father’s office, serving her “detention”. Her punishments consisted of sitting in his office and sharing a cup of tea with him, while having a conversation on several topics. Now, Snape could just send his daughter invites to come see him, but he wants to avoid the scenario of someone questioning why she was always coming to his office and him explaining why, seeing as everyone believes him to be a cynical loner.

“Yeah, with the Slytherins,” Evangeline replied, rolling her eyes as she took a bite from her blue chocolate chip cookie.

“Do I sense some irritation in your tone, young lady?” Snape gives his daughter a disapproving stare, visibly telling her to watch what she says next.

Over Evangeline’s childhood, she quickly learned when she should push her father’s buttons, which was why she didn’t watch what she said next. “Yes, you do sense some irritation because I am irritated. No offense, father, but your House is filled with snobby, racist, and entitled kids - no wonder the Sorting Hat didn’t place me there! I’m now glad it didn’t.”

Snape wanted to argue, but had no leg to stand on. Most of Slytherin’s reputation was well-deserved, and with their parents affiliation with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and his own experiences with them, they’re not the right influence for his daughter. A part of him was also glad the Sorting Hat hadn’t placed her into Slytherin. Snape had promised her mother to keep her safe from the Dark Lord’s clutches, and he can’t easily do that if Evangeline is constantly surrounded by people who would try to convince her to join the Dark Lord.

“I’m aware you’ve had experience flying a broom, but are you excited to learn how to fly?”

Evangeline’s lips curled into a joyful grin as she nodded. “Very.”

A rare smile graced Snape’s lips, one that he only showed to his family. His daughter was always an adventurous, free-spirited girl, and frankly, was unlike any witch he’s ever seen or heard of. As a child, if something sounded interesting to her, she’d try it. Evangeline has done soccer, swimming, baseball, jiu jitsu, taekwondo, boxing, gymnastics, skateboarding, surfing, baking, violin, piano, horse-riding – she was a very active child. Snape has asked why she never tried wizard sports, and her answers ranged from “They’re not my thing” to “You won’t let me” to “When you wizards stop relying on a small ball to end Quidditch and acting like a bunch of babies, then I’ll play your sports” depending on her mood. Allowing her to do these things stopped her from running around the house like a cat at 3AM.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, Evangeline, but why didn’t you sing during the school song? Frankly, I was disappointed when I didn’t hear you - it would’ve started off my year just right.”

“I did sing,” Evangeline’s voice became quiet and slightly high-pitched, and she did her best to hide it by sipping her tea. However, her father was no fool.

“I know what my daughter sounds like, and mouthing does not count as singing.”

“You know I don’t like singing in front of people.”

Snape furrows his brows in confusion. “Why? You have a lovely singing voice, my dear. You never had much trouble singing in front of your mother, Theodore, and me.”

“You have a nice smile,” Evangeline retorted. “Why don’t you smile for people other than mom, Theodore, and me?”

Snape and Evangeline stared at each other, her defiant eyes standing their ground against his strict ones. Despite wanting to scold her for her backtalk, Snape decided against it as she had a point. “Touché.”

The two talked a bit more, changing the subject to the art they had been sent by Theodore, who spent every minute of every day sketching, drawing, painting, and sculpting, if he felt like it. This led to the eight-year-old boy to become a prodigy, and Theodore had said multiple times that he planned on creating his own graphic novel with a set of interesting characters. Snape always wanted to tell his son that his stories might not be accepted in the wizarding world, but he never could go through with it.

As dinner neared, the two began cleaning up, making the office look as though no bonding had occurred. Before leaving, Snape gently ran his hands through his daughter’s hair, messing it up a bit. Evangeline’s hair would always get messy after she played sports, and somehow it looked natural on her - showed off a bit of her wild side. Now, whenever Snape sees her hair even a tad messy, he knew that she had been having fun. Snape brushed his finger at the base of Evangeline’s neck, causing her to flinch and giggle; he smiled. He tenderly kissed her forehead, whispering, “My beautiful child.”

Evangeline was certainly a beautiful girl, a fact not lost on Harry.

The moment his green eyes caught her walking into the Great Hall, he couldn’t help but watch her every movement. Most of the students, and a few staff, watched as she strolled towards the Gryffindor table with an air of confidence, her robes billowing behind her as she sat down, filled her plate, and began eating.

This was a common occurrence.

The majority of Hogwarts felt Evangeline was a different breed of witch. It wasn’t because of how talented she was in her classes, it was everything else. She commanded attention and respect without needing to ask, and people regularly parted for her like the Red Sea in the halls. Her intense black eyes that shone with a fierce determination were like two onyx jewels, standing out against her pale skin that was so well-defined it had to have been created by one of the greatest sculptors of the century. Her hair, that was braided on certain days and messy on others, was parted right down the middle and framed her face like a silk curtain with soft curls. When she spoke, everyone could hear the exotic accent mixed in with the British one; it sounded like Spanish, but they weren’t sure. She was a girl that was hard to ignore. She had this thing about her, this strange aura that grabbed people’s attention.

Harry has talked to her a few times. She was a friendly girl, but weirdly, she never spoke about her family, especially her father.

All of Gryffindor felt bad for her as the Potions Master, Snape, would harp on her every Potions class and constantly give her detentions. Sometimes, the professor would get so angry that he’d start making weird hand gestures that would force Evangeline’s ADHD to focus on, resulting in him getting more angry. It was a surprise she hadn’t broken down crying yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry hated Draco Malfoy more than he hated his bully of a cousin, Dudley. It was partially because the first-year Slytherin had a massive crush on Evangeline, a fact he didn’t keep quiet. Thankfully, first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with first-year Slytherins, so Harry didn’t have to hear or see Draco terribly flirt with Evangeline. Though, he did enjoy seeing the color drain from his face once he noticed the murderous glare Snape gave him as he vibrated with fury, which was a weird reaction to have when one student flirts with another.

Until . . .

Professor McGonagall had posted a notice in the Gryffindor common room, informing the first-years that their flying lessons started on Thursday. The first-years excitement quickly diminished once they realized they’d be flying with first-year Slytherins.

“Typical,” said Harry darkly. “Just what I always wanted, to make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy.”

“You don’t know that you’ll make a fool of yourself,” Ron reassured. “Anyway, I know Malfoy’s always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that’s all talk.”

Malfoy spoke about flying a lot, often complaining loudly about how first-years never getting placed into House Quidditch teams, and boasting about the many times he narrowly escaped Muggles in helicopters. Evangeline called him a liar as not even his father had enough money to bribe the newspapers from headlining: WEALTHY PURE-BLOOD’S SON STUPIDLY TRIES TO EXPOSE THE WIZARDING WORLD MULTIPLE TIMES.

Although, her words were much more harsh.

When questioned, Evangeline had confessed that she wasn’t very good at flying a broom, and the moment the magical boys heard that, they offered to teach her. Seamus Finnigan felt he was more qualified to teach her as he had spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick, whereas Ron didn’t have his own broom and almost hit a hang glider. Evangeline firmly turned them down because, “If my father found out I was alone with a boy, he’d blow a gasket!”

Hermione Granger was just as nervous about flying as Neville was, and as expected, she went into the library and grabbed a book called Quidditch Through the Ages to learn everything she could about the subject. Evangeline tried to convince her that learning how to fly a broom is like learning how to ride a horse, just because you have the equipment and knowledge doesn’t mean you can control the horse. However, no convincing could stop the bushy-haired girl from lecturing her peers to boredom during breakfast on Thursday; Neville listened to her with keen ears, desperately wanting to avoid having an accident in the air and would take any form of advice.

Thankfully, for the first-years, Hermione’s lecture was interrupted by the mail.

Harry hadn’t received a single letter since Hagrid’s note, something Malfoy was quick to notice and he was very quick to gloat about the packages of sweets he got from his parents.

Evangeline received plenty of things from her family. Sweets dyed blue and uplifting notes from her mother, detailed drawings from her eight-year-old brother, and for some reason, her father sent her cryptic messages.

Neville excitedly opened a small package from his grandmother, removing a glass ball the size of a large marble that was filled with white smoke. “It’s a Remembrall!” He explained, showing it off to them. “Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there’s something you’ve forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red – oh . . . “ At the sight of the Remembrall glowing scarlet, Neville’s face fell. “You’ve forgotten something. . .”

Neville furrowed his brows, staring inquisitively at the Remembrall as he tried his hardest to remember what he had forgotten. This was one of the things he didn’t like about himself, how he could hardly remember anything. He hoped this object would be of some use, but it wasn’t! It didn’t help at all!

He had been so busy trying to remember that he didn’t notice Malfoy, who had just happened to be passing by, leaning in to snatch the Remembrall out of his hands. Without even looking up from the letter from her father, detailing what potion she’d have to poorly brew, Evangeline’s hand shot up and grabbed Malfoy’s wrist.

Malfoy jumped, not having expected Evangeline to do such a thing. Her grip was tight enough that he couldn’t pull back his hand, but gentle enough that there was little to no pain. Harry and Ron, who had jumped to their feet, Seamus, whose mouth was open and about to gulp down a spoon of porridge, the Weasley twins, who stared with a look of amazement, and everyone else - except Hermione, whose nose was stuck in her book - stared at Evangeline, who still didn’t look up from her letter.

“Let. It. Go,” was all she said. Her normal cheerful tone was gone, replaced by a casual sentence with an underlying threat in her words.

Malfoy’s face paled, a shiver running down his spine at how she said those words. He looked around the Gryffindors closest to them and his friends, looking for reassurance that he wasn’t seeing or hearing things. Everyone was quiet, both confused and alarmed by Evangeline’s sudden change in demeanor. Malfoy jumps as Evangeline’s grip on his wrist tightens, and he immediately lets go of the Remembrall, stepping back and massaging his now free wrist.

Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble faster than any professor, rushed over and asked, “What’s going on?”

Before anyone could say anything, Evangeline looked up towards Professor McGonagall with a sweet smile and calmly explained, “Nothing, professor. Malfoy had simply come over to ask where we’d be having our flying lessons today, and Harry and Ron had offered to show him and his friends.”

Professor McGonagall’s stern expression softens and her lips curl into a small smile. “Oh, well, that’s very kind of you boys.” She nodded her head towards Harry and Ron before turning around and walking off.

The moment the professor was out of earshot, Evangeline’s smile turned into an annoyed frown and her eyes became cold as she turned to look at Malfoy. She looked the boy and his friends up and down, almost inspecting them as they felt her stare into their souls every time their eyes met, before she asked, not-so-nicely, “Why are you still here?”

Immediately, the boys scampered off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At three-thirty that afternoon, the first-year Gryffindors and Slytherins were standing on a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds that led to the forbidden forest, whose trees swayed darkly in the distance. In front of the students, laid in neat lines, were twenty broomsticks.

Their professor, Madam Hooch, arrived shortly after them. She had short, spiky, gray hair and yellow eyes like a hawk. “Well, what are you all waiting for?” She barked. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.”

As the students hurried to stand by a broom, Harry and Ron made sure that they got to stand by Evangeline. Despite the earlier hostile display Evangeline made, Malfoy did feel a tad jealous, especially since he couldn’t even stand in front of her. He kept looking over at her, hoping that she’d make eye contact with him, but she never did.

Harry glanced down at his broomstick, and upon seeing how old it was and how its twigs stuck out at odd angles, he became upset at having to ride it.

The thought of embarrassing himself in front of Evangeline sounded much worse than embarrassing himself in front of Malfoy. Harry wanted to impress her, and he’s not sure if he can do that on this broom. Although, she did say that she wasn’t the best at flying a broom, so maybe she won’t even notice. Hopefully.

“Stick out your right hand over your broom,” called Madam Hooch, “and say ‘Up!’”

“Up!” Everyone shouted.

Harry noted his broom was one of the few that jumped into their rider’s hands. Hermione’s had rolled over and Neville’s didn’t move at all; Evangeline’s jumped straight into her hand, and she gripped it firmly with that same fierce determination in her eyes. Her eyes watched Neville as he tried to get the broom to jump into his hand, and after a few minutes, she leaned forward and quietly advised how to command the broom. After finally managing to do it, Neville flashed Evangeline a thankful smile.

Madam Hooch showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off at the end before walking up and down the rows, correcting their grip. While Harry and Ron were happy to hear her tell Malfoy he’d been doing it wrong for years, they were stunned to see her not correct Evangeline. They thought she would, considering Evangeline herself said she wasn’t good at flying a broom.

“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,” Madam Hooch instructed, lifting her whistle to her lips. “Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two –”

However, a thought sparked in Neville’s mind. What if he didn’t kick off on time? He might hesitate, and then he’ll be left behind. If he kicks off too late, then they’ll laugh at him, won’t they? He doesn’t want them to laugh or taunt him. He’s been making too many mistakes the past few weeks, and he’s not going to let this be another one.

Letting his fear of being left on the ground get the better of him, Neville pushed off the ground before Madam Hooch even blew her whistle.

“Come back, boy!” she shouted, but Neville had forgotten how to come down.

He kept rising and rising, his face losing its color as he watched the people below get smaller and smaller. His mind was swirling with voices; one scolded him for pushing off too early, another kept talking about how high they were getting, and the last freaked out about what everyone would think of him. Neville could just hear Professor Snape’s voice insulting him. “Idiot boy!” He’d say. “Thought you’d look good if you kicked off first, did you? You’re an arrogant fool. You don’t deserve the name Longbottom.”

At the slightest slip of his grip, Neville gasped, his heart skipping a beat as his eyes darted to his hands. Sweat. His hands were sweating. His eyes grew wide with fear, his breathing coming in hard and fast, and his heart skipped another beat as he lost his grip and slid off the broom.

The length of time it took for Neville to reach the ground felt like days, when it was really a few seconds. The wind rushed through his hair, cooling his face as eyes opened and closed rapidly to avoid seeing the ground and seeing how close he was getting to it.

Fortunately, he had a soft surface to land on. Evangeline.

With a loud thud, Neville landed on Evangeline and made her feel like she had been crushed - albeit by something that weighed as much as an apple.

Madam Hooch rushed over to the two, pulling Neville up to his feet and quickly assessing him. Evangeline slowly sat up, being offered a hand by Malfoy. She had only raised her arm a few inches before letting out a pained cry and doubling over, clutching her side as her eyes water. A sharp sting had erupted on the right side of her chest. Like a fire in a dry forest, the stinging sensation spread and flared with each breath Evangeline took. She was too afraid to stand up, much less move; she’s broken enough bones to know this had to be a cracked rib.

“I think he cracked my rib,” she muttered hoarsely.

Madam Hooch knelt down, putting her hand up Evangeline’s jumper and shirt and inspecting the injury. “I think you’re right,” she says, glancing at her student who was finding it difficult to breathe without wincing. Madam Hooch helps her up, being careful to not aggravate the injury, before turning to the rest of the class. “None of you is to move while I take this girl to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch.’ Come on, dear.”

Evangeline limped back up to the castle, putting most of her weight on her left side as Madam Hooch kept her arm around her, making sure she didn’t fall.

The second the two were out of sight, a scowling Draco Malfoy pushed Neville to the ground. Standing over him, he shouted, “You clumsy idiot! Just wait until Professor Snape hears about this!”

Harry and Ron immediately got in between Malfoy and Neville, not caring that Crabbe and Goyle, who were tall and strong-looking boys, had come up to defend Malfoy like a pair of bodyguards. “Leave him alone, Malfoy!” said Harry.

“And why would Professor Snape care about what happened to Evangeline?” Ron inquired, smirking as he found the threat to be a poor one.

“Haven’t you heard, Weasley?” Malfoy’s tone was filled with derision as he spoke to someone he thought less of. “Evangeline is Snape’s daughter.”

There was a long pause.

Everyone was stunned, with a few whispering, “His daughter?” “What is he talking about?” “Has Malfoy gone mad?” But then they started thinking.

The two had the same black hair, pale skin, hooked nose, and dark eyes, except with slight differences. Snape’s hair was greasy, Evangeline’s was smoothly disheveled; Snape had sallow skin whereas Evangeline’s is practically porcelain; Snape’s hooked nose was large and Evangeline’s was barely noticeable; and lastly, Snape’s dark eyes were as cold as an ice storm, and Evangeline’s were warm like a campfire.

They had seen it with their own eyes, but had never connected the dots. Even now, they still couldn’t believe Snape and Evangeline were father and daughter.

“Y-you’re lying,” stammered Neville, his eyes wide and his voice quivering with fear. He looked to be on the verge of tears.

“My father saw them in Diagon Alley,” Malfoy proudly told everyone. “My father has known Professor Snape since Hogwarts, and he said that Evangeline looks exactly like him when he was young.”

Harry and Ron wanted to believe Malfoy was lying, that this was another one of those things he boasts about, but they couldn’t see anything other than the truth in his words. Neville was connecting the dots as well. He had hurt Professor Snape’s daughter. He had sent her to the Hospital Wing.

“Professor Snape’s going to kill me,” Neville breathed out, crawling back into a tree.

Malfoy smirked, taking a step forward, his voice dropping to a foreboding whisper. “I also heard he loves his daughter more than anything in the world, and that he’d kill anyone who dared to hurt her.”

Neville whimpered.

Without even thinking, Harry shoved Malfoy. It wasn’t a very hard shove, it only made Malfoy take two steps back. The other Slytherins moved forward, ready to pounce if need be. However, Malfoy had another idea.

Out of the corner of his eye, he had spotted something shiny glistening in the afternoon sun. It was Neville’s Remembrall. Quickly, he snatched it up and held it high for everyone to see. “Look what we have here.”

“Hey!” Neville shouts, standing up and getting close. “That’s mine. Give it back.”

“You want it? Come and get it.”

Malfoy picked up his broomstick and flew off, hovering next to the topmost branches of a nearby oak tree. He threw the Remembrall in the air and caught it, taunting Neville, challenging him to pick up a broomstick and fly up after him. Except, it wasn’t Neville who picked up the broom and went after him. It was Harry.

“No!” Hermione Granger shouted, trying to stop him. “Madam Hooch told us not to move – you’ll get us all into trouble.”

As always, she was ignored. Harry flew up towards Malfoy, blood pounding in his ears, the breeze rushing through his hair and making his robes whip out behind him. In a split second, he realized he knew just how to maneuver his broom - it was easy, and being up there, with the wind encasing him and the rush of adrenaline flowing through his veins, he felt . . . wonderful. Like he could do anything. And right now, he was going to get Neville’s Remembrall back.

Malfoy had a stunned look on his face as he watched Harry come towards him, the screams and gasps of the girls plus an admiring whoop from Ron echoing below. He couldn’t believe his eyes. This was Harry’s first time on a broomstick, and yet, here he was. Flying like a pro.

“Give it here,” Harry called, “or I’ll knock you off that broom!”

Malfoy did his best to not look worried as he sneered. “Oh, yeah?”

The next thing Malfoy sees is Harry grasping his broom tightly with both hands, leaning forward, and then shooting toward him like a javelin. He managed to move out of the way before Harry could crash into him. With wide eyes, Malfoy glanced down at the Gryffindors who clapped at Harry’s spectacular display, and he felt his heart racing.

“No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy!”

The same thought just came to Malfoy. He looked down so Harry wouldn’t see the worry in his eyes as he did his best to put on a brave face. The Gryffindor was right. Even if Crabbe and Goyle picked up their brooms, they’ve never flown. They wouldn’t make it up. They probably wouldn’t even get one foot off of the ground before crash landing. Malfoy needed to think of something, and he needed to think of something fast.

As his ice-gray eyes darted in every direction, they finally landed on the Remembrall in his hands. Malfoy didn’t need to think very long before he shouted, “Catch it if you can, then!” and he threw the Remembrall high into the air, and rushed back to the ground.

Harry’s eyes latched onto the Remembrall, and for him time slowed. He could hear the single breath he exhaled, the way the wood felt beneath his tightening grip, and his heart returning to a steady beat as he leaned forward and pointed the broom handle down, and then like a torpedo he dove, following the path of the Remembrall. Harry could hear everyone screaming, but their screams sounded distant, as if they were much farther than they truly were. He stretched out his hand, reaching for the Remembrall. Less than a foot from the ground, he pulled his broom straight, toppling gently onto the ground, Remembrall grasped tightly into his fist.

With a proud grin, Harry stood up and walked over to Neville, handing the Remembrall back. “HARRY POTTER!”

The grin was wiped off of Harry’s face, his heart sinking as he watched Professor McGonagall running towards them. “Never – in all my time at Hogwarts – how dare you – might have broken your neck –”

“It wasn’t his fault, professor –”

“Be quiet, Miss Patil.”

“But Malfoy –”

“That’s enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now.”

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had a triumphant look on their faces as they watched Harry numbly follow closely behind Professor McGonagall back to the castle. Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest, his triumphant look turning into a smug smirk; Ron glared at the back of his head, scenarios of what he’d do to the arrogant rich boy if he didn’t have two large boys protecting him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Great Hall was abuzz with activity. The incidents that occurred between Neville and Evangeline and Harry and Malfoy had spread across the school, but not as much as Malfoy’s statement that Evangeline was Snape’s daughter. No one could believe that a kind girl like her could come from someone harsh like him. Many tried to disprove it, citing how different the two were, but others pointed out the similarities in appearance and mannerisms. The rumor had spread to the staff, and they were just as quick to shut it down before taking another second to think.

Professor McGonagall stated that during the Sorting ceremony, before she called out Evangeline’s name, she felt that there was something off about it. There was a space between Evangeline and Prince, which was why she paused. The others confessed that they had noticed the change too, but weren’t sure if it was a mistake or on purpose. It was then that Headmaster Dumbledore remembered Snape’s mother’s maiden name was Prince. Professor Quirrell hypothesized that Evangeline was his sister, but with her age and the time Snape’s parents died, it was unlikely.

“Wait, if Evangeline is his daughter,” started Professor Sprout, the realization hitting her like a sack of bricks, “then, this means Snape had sex . . . with a woman.”

The others were hit by the same realization. One of the professors suggested Evangeline was born from a one-night-stand and the woman was extremely drunk, but Nearly Headless Nick chimed in that Evangeline not only has a mother but a younger brother named Theodore.

“He has a wife?” Professor McGonagall exclaimed in shock.

“And a son as well,” said Professor Sinistra. “Why is this the first we’re hearing of this?”

“Severus was always a bit secretive,” said Professor Flitwick.

“Yes,” said Dumbledore, “but you’d think he’d share something important as having a family.”

They knew the majority of rumors they heard from the students were false, but Evangeline was solid proof that they were right this time. Still, they couldn’t imagine it. Snape with a wife and two kids. Flitwick always thought women were too scared of him, while Trelawney thought he was too shy to even approach a woman. They wanted to ask Snape himself how true these rumors were, but he hadn’t arrived for dinner, which was strange.

As the Great Hall wondered what Severus Snape’s wife and son looked like, with some commenting that his wife was just as bad as him and surmised the two were just as harsh with their children, the doors burst open and a salty smell filled the air.

They all looked up, craning their heads to get a better look at the tall man with light-green skin, blue eyes, and short dark hair that stood in the doorway. A white cloth was draped around his athletic body and over his left shoulder, being held up by a golden medallion.

“Hello, my name is Konstantinos,” he proclaimed, his eyes scanning the room with great excitement and eagerness. “I am a Tritone, a member of the God of the Seas court. I am here for his daughter.”

#severus #fempercyjackson #pro snape #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #greekgods #greek mythology

2 notes · View notes