The utensil in lovelle's hand dropped and clattered into the bowl, causing the scolding-hot broth to splash all over the sheets and, regretfully, onto her arms as well. The pain, while it should have felt searing and intense, was numb and nearly non-existent as her mind traveled elsewhere.

'Okay', she thought, 'so Snape had allowed their previous dispute to surpass them…sort of. Well, he didn't mention it the next morning or anything,' which was good enough for her. But after what took place in Diagon Alley, she highly doubted the man would be nearly as forgiving. 'If that's what he even was before,' lovelle mentally added. Maybe the professor had just refrained from speaking of it because…wait, what reason did he have for not berating her? Hadn't she screamed and fought with him just the same last night as she had today? That being considered, could there be a possibility that this latest tantrum could slide by as well? 'No, that would be very unlikely,' she knew.

While the first fight had been somewhat warranted, her father still provided her a room to stay in afterwards, along with the promise to buy her clothes and supplies. 'And this is how I repay him?' she scolded herself. 'By throwing it all back in his face simply because he refused to slow down?' Lovelle shook her head. It was more than that. Her reasons behind what she had done ran far deeper.

So, did Mrs. Weasley know all of this? Had she been aware of her misbehavior, thus sending for her father as a result?

"Lovelle!" someone shouted from far away (or so it seemed).

"Mum, what's happening?" a boy asked frantically.

"Why isn't she answering us?" another demanded, also coming off as frightened.

Then, a woman's voice came into play, much calmer sounding, and was speaking words of some foreign language. While lovelle was unable to make out what the words were, let alone what they meant, she was able to register the fact that her arms felt cold, yet soothing all the same. They were relaxed, and free of tension, almost as if they were experiencing some sort of pain previously.

'Pain,' lovelle mused, still not entirely aware of her surroundings. 'Am I hurt?' she wondered in her dream-like state. 'No…' she thought about it, 'Why would I be?' Suddenly, all of the memories came flooding back. 'The fireplace…the Weasley's…hitting her head…Fred, George, Percy, Bill (the list went on)…then the soup…and finally, her father. He was on his way.'

Lovelle shot up. Her already opened eyes went wider. She looked around the room, finding a twin at either side of her bed, and an elder woman hovering over her face concernedly.

"What," she began, scared and insecure, "-what happened?"

Molly sighed in relief and stowed her wand back into her pocket. Fred and George decided to use that time in order to grab onto the raven-haired girl so tight that she nearly suffocated.

"There was an accident," Molly explained. "You spilled some soup," she went on, looking guilt-ridden. "I should have made certain that it had cooled-"

"Please, don't blame yourself, Mrs. Weasley," lovelle  jumped in, feeling just as bad, if not worse. "Wait," she suddenly noticed her discolored skin, "why are my arms red?"

"The broth burned them," Fred explained, "Then you started staring off," George continued, "And you wouldn't answer us," he told her, "It was really odd," the previous boy confessed, "and terrifying."

"I was able to heal the blisters," Molly informed her, "the swelling and irritated skin may take some time to settle down, however."

"Thank you," lovelle smiled, despite her embarrassment. This was the second time in just a single day that she had managed to hurt herself around the Weasley's. Now she felt as if she owed them for their care. "I don't know how I'll ever repay you-"

But the girl was unable to finish her sentence as Mrs. Weasley enveloped her in a motherly embrace. Not used to the experience, lovelle could only pat her awkwardly on the back in return, similar to how she responded to Ginny's comfort on her arrival day. However, for a reason unknown to her, lovelle didn't feel any sense of awkwardness upon hugging either twin...or her old friend, Maggie, for that matter (when the blonde used to be around). She simply must've been closer with those three.

"Don't you ever thank me for taking care of you," Molly kindly reprimanded. "I would have done the same for any of my children," she smiled warmly.

"Yeah," George agreed, "and we always make sure never to thank her for it," Fred kidded, earning a light smack on the arm from his mother.

Lovelle laughed quietly, loving how these two always found a way to cheer her up.

"As for your earlier question," Mrs. Weasley got right back down to business, "I believe you went into a state of shock after the broth began burning your arms," she looked sad. Molly simply hated seeing any child suffer (psychically or emotionally).

"Oh," was all she managed to say. Lovelle had never experienced that kind of pain before and was desperately hoping that it would never happen again. "I'm sorry-"

"No apologizing either," Molly cut her off. "From now on, I want you to learn to expect the same treatment as I would give the rest my family."

Lovelle  was taken aback. Surely she hadn't meant that.

"Oh, no you don't," Fred waved a hand in front of her face whilst George gently shook her shoulders.

"What?" she asked, slapping the twin's hand away.

"You were doing that weird thing again," George informed her whilst Fred funnily demonstrated it.

She giggled, "I did not look like that," lovelle protested.

"Yes you did," they argued.

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"Na-uh"

"Yes-huh"

"Na-uh"

"Yes-"

"Cut it out!" Mrs. Weasley stopped the debate, still looking amused.

"Sorry," the trio mumbled. That didn't stop lovelle from shaking her head when the twins nodded theirs when their mum wasn't looking.

"Now," Molly proceeded, "Would you care to tell me what that was all about?" she sat on the edge of the bed, knowing that lovelle was fully aware of exactly what she was referring to.

Lovelle sighed disappointedly. "Well, you see, earlier today…" she then went on to tell Mrs. Weasley the same story she had recited to the rest of the clan not even an hour ago.

"Hmm," Molly looked thoughtful whilst the twins spoke with lovelle  quietly. Moments later, their little discussion was interrupted once she had reached a decision.

"Perhaps Arthur and I should speak with Severus," she spoke aloud.

Lovelle sputtered, "But why?"

"Yeah mum," Fred took her side, "Why?" he and George asked in unison.

"It's nothing that will get you into any trouble, dear," Mrs. Weasley unsuccessfully reassured lovelle. "Just parent-talk," she stated unpretentiously.

"You mean," George searched for a better explanation, "you and dad are going to," Fred went on, "give Snape advice on how to be-"

"A better parent?" Lovelle  finished, just as if she were a part of the twin's lingo.

Molly smiled brightly at the display prior to answering, "Something of the sort, yes."

"Not to be rude," she began, "But are you sure that's a good idea?" Her father hardly seemed like the type to take the advice of others.

"I don't see why-" but Mrs. Weasley was cut short by the sound of shouting coming from downstairs.

"He's back," the twin's said menacingly, causing lovelle to giggle before the fear and utter dread set in.

"You three stay here," Molly instructed them, "I'll go and speak with your father," she then made way to leave the room.

"Wait!" Lovelle called after her. "Shouldn't I go down there?" she questioned, knowing that the loudness below was on her behalf.

"No, let Arthur and I speak with him first. We'll send for you shortly, dear," she reassured the girl, weakly.

Lovelle just nodded her head, suddenly knowing that it would be in all of their best interests to steer clear from the living room. If her friend's mum and dad actually thought they'd be having a calm conversation over what her father was supposed to do, well, they were sorely mistaken. Lovelle could only hope that the other Weasleys were still in the backyard with the gnomes.

"It'll be okay," Fred tried telling her, "Mum's tougher than you think," George said, "If Snape so much as disagrees with her," he went on, "He'll be the one feeling regretful," they laughed. Lovelle could only hope the twins were right.

…

"Where is she?" Severus asked for what had to be the twentieth time that day. What little patience he may have had was nowhere to be seen now.

"Ah, Severus, Minerva, how lovely to see you again," Mr. Weasley stepped in, trying to bring down the level of hostility in the room. "And who's this?" he asked before either adult could respond.

From behind McGonagall, a little girl with tan skin, dirty-blonde hair, and bright blue eyes stood looking both curious and concerned all at once.

Flashback

"So, you mean to tell us that our daughter is a witch?" Peter (a muscular man with dirty blonde hair, olive skin, and brown eyes) asked the professor who had arrived at their house nearly an hour ago. Since then, the Scottish woman had informed the two adults, along with their child, all about Hogwarts, magic, and their world. She also made certain to hand the young girl her acceptance letter.

"My grandfather was a wizard," Delilah (a petite woman with strawberry hair, fair skin and light blue eyes) admitted. "Unfortunately, my mother was born a squib like myself." At first, the red-headed woman had thought her mother's tales of witchcraft were nothing more than mere bedtime stories. Only now, she realized that they were so much more.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Peter inquired, feeling left in the dark here.

Delilah sighed, "I wasn't fully sure that the tales were true," she replied. "I thought my mother was just making things up; that she simply had a powerful imagination."

"Well," Minerva interrupted, "Based on your mother's stories, I'm certain that you have a general idea regarding the expectations of your daughter's schooling along with how to go about purchasing the necessary supplies?"

"Yes," Delilah answered. If the stories were honest, she should know all about the wizarding castle along with Gringotts, Diagon Alley, and everything else.

"Splendid," the professor smiled.

Then, before McGonagall could continue explaining the rules and procedures, a tall, grey-haired man popped into place before them.

"Ah, Minerva," Albus greeted, "I'm terribly sorry to interrupt," he apologized to the surprised family, "But I am afraid we have a bit of a problem back at the school."

"And that would be?" the professor pried, needing to finish her meeting with the muggle-born witch.

"Lovelle has gone missing," Dumbledore stated gravely.

"But I thought she was with Severus?" she sputtered, shocked and worried, "Surely he would not have misplaced her."

"You are correct," he informed Minerva, ignoring the other three within the living room, "It rather seems the child ran away."

"Yet Severus did nothing to stop her?" she pressed, much stressed at this point.

Albus shook his head, "I do not know the full story, I'm afraid."

"Excuse me?" a little girl interrupted, preventing the professor's from continuing. "But did you say, lovelle?" she asked.

"I did," the headmaster responded, a bit taken aback, "Why do you ask Miss Williams?"

The blonde frowned at that. Upon being adopted she had hoped to keep her given name (Porter). Unfortunately, her new parents insisted that she take their name to make them more of a family. Reluctantly, she had no choice but to submit.

"It's just," she shuffled her feet nervously, "I used to know a girl named lovelle," she explained. "She was my best friend at Wool's."

"Maggie?" McGonagall questioned, recognizing the name Evangeline had given whilst discussing the now missing child's life.

Blue eyes shined happily, realizing that these people must know her lovelle. This meant she possibly had a chance of being reunited with the raven-haired girl. She nodded her head affirmatively, "Yes."

"Are you acquainted with Miss black?" Delilah asked. Ever since the adoption, Maggie made it a point to speak of her old friend on a daily basis. While she and Peter felt terribly for taking their daughter away from what seemed like such a nice girl, the two could not return to the orphanage for a visit. Sadly, it was against Wool's policy, thus rendering her parents helpless when Maggie had asked to be with lovelle again. And adopting a second child wasn't an option considering the smallness of their home. So, for the two wonderful years Peter and Delilah had their daughter, the opportunity to see her best friend was the one thing they could not give to her.

"Indeed," Minerva told her. "The child went out to Diagon Alley with her father this morning and now it appears she has taken off."

"She was probably pretty mad," Maggie said, "lovelle always runs away when she's angry," the blonde let them know.

"Lovely," the professor muttered, at a loss for what to do. It wasn't until several moments later that it struck her. "The Weasley's," she turned to Albus, "That is where she must have gone."

Dumbledore agreed without hesitation. "Floo back to my office, Minerva," he instructed, "Take Severus with you to the Burrow. I shall finish the meeting," he smiled warmly at Peter and Delilah.

"Very well," McGonagall walked towards the William's fireplace.

"Wait!" an eleven year old shouted. "Take me with you," she begged, desperate to see lovelle again. Maggie just had to know all about how her friend really had a father all along, why she was a witch, where her mother was, and the many more things the two had to catch up on.

"Miss Williams-" the animagus went to decline.

"Please," she pleaded, clearly distressed.

"I don't see a reason why not," Albus took Maggie's side. It would be good for lovelle to have a friend by her side, especially now of all times. "So long as your parents agree," he added, noting the looks of uncertainty on the opposite adult's faces.

Maggie wasted no time in giving her mum and dad the best puppy dog look she had.

"Oh, alright," Peter caved first.

"Just have her home before it gets dark out," Delilah ordered.

"Of course; not to worry," Dumbledore then relieved them, "your daughter is in safe hands."

Ecstatic, Maggie gave her mother a brief hug and her father a small peck on the cheek before walking back over to the elder witch.

"Now," Minerva began once the fireplace was set to go, "I need to you do exactly as I say," she said sternly, for one improperly spoken word could land the child anywhere, leaving her lost.

The blonde nodded her head in understanding, awaiting further instructions.

"I am going to step inside," the professor directed towards the fireplace at their right, causing Maggie's eyes to widen in disbelief, "then quickly release this powder," she opened her palm to show her the green dust, "afterwards, I will state the place I wish to be transported to and shall be taken there. If you follow these steps accordingly," Minerva went on, entering the fireplace, "I will be seeing you soon." The woman then disappeared with a reassuring smile.

The William's gasped at the sight whilst the headmaster chuckled at the scene. He then spoke up after the confusion slightly dissipated. "You best be going, Miss Williams," he told the student, breaking her train of thought.

Petrified at the prospect of being engulfed by green flames, Maggie mustered up a bit of courage and walked forward, repeating everything McGonagall had showed her.

Three Minutes Later

A shrill shriek followed by a loud thump interrupted Severus and Minerva's debacle. Turning around, the professors caught sight of a very bewildered blonde child trying to stand up and recompose herself.

"I am never doing that again," Maggie let both adults know after McGonagall helped brush the soot off from her orange blouse.

"Unfortunately, you must, Miss Williams," Minerva informed her, "It is the simplest way to get to where we are going," she explained. The Weasley's residence was heavily warded with anti-apparation charms and there wasn't enough time to contact the family in order to request they be momentarily taken down.

"Fine," Maggie huffed. If this was the only way to reach her friend, then she would just have to manage.

"What is a child doing here, Minerva?" Snape rudely inquired.

"I'm not a child!" the eleven-year old quickly intervened. "And my name is Maggie," she informed the potion's master.

Severus glared at the brat, allowing McGonagall to speak instead. "This is Miss Williams," she hastily introduced the two, "Your daughter's friend," she told her colleague.

Maggie's jaw dropped, "That's lovelke's dad?" she asked Minerva, not having it.

"Yes," the woman answered, "Now, we really must be leaving," she told them urgently.

"To where?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow inquiringly. He chose to ignore the comment made about the girl's relationship with his offspring.

"Why the Weasley's of course," McGonagall said as if it were obvious. "I'm surprised the thought did not occur to you before," she chided, "Where else would lovelle  have gone?"

Snape chose not to retort. Instead, he entered the fireplace Maggie had earlier stumbled out from and left for the Burrow.

"Well then," Minerva took a breath, trying not to take the man's abrupt departure personally. "Why don't I go first?" she suggested, knowing that this way she would be able to catch the child as she would most likely fall through once more.

Maggie merely nodded in agreement before watching the professor vanish into nothing. She then followed her lead, wondering what kind of place 'The Burrow' could possibly be.

End Flashback

"This is Miss Williams," Minerva told Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, "a friend of Miss black's," the transfiguration professor elaborated, not as stressed or pressed for information as her colleague. She knew lovelle  was safe; that would just have to be enough for now.

Almost immediately, Molly gave Maggie a motherly hug. "Lovelle is upstairs," she spoke quietly into the child's ear, not wanting Severus to know just yet. She and Arthur still needed to speak with him first. Hopefully they would manage to calm the fumed man down in the process, as well.

No longer taken aback by the sudden affection, the blonde beamed at the eldest Weasley woman and practically ran to the next floor.

Severus was just about to follow, not a daft man by any means, when Mr. Weasley prevented him from doing so. "Molly and I would like a word," he said earnestly.

"Lovelle is quite alright," Mrs. Weasley assured him.

"Besides," Arthur went on, "It wouldn't be wise to speak with her in such a state," he advised, talking about the professor's current demeanor, "would it?"

"While I appreciate your hospitality, Mr. Weasley, it is not your place to dictate what I should or should not do in regards to my own daughter," he enlightened the redhead tersely.

"I beg to differ," Molly said, her temper rising. "When lovelle stepped into our home, she was distraught," the woman left out the part where his child had managed to knock herself out. "And after telling me about your dispute, it's not difficult to understand just why," Mrs. Weasley gave the potions master a hard look, her parental instincts stepping out in defense of a girl whom she considered her own. "I'm sorry, Severus," she put in before saying, "But clearly you are in desperate need for some assistance as your parenting skills leave so much to be desired."

Minerva tried to tuck away her oncoming smile. With the exception of her and the headmaster, nobody spoke to Severus in such a way.

"It wouldn't hurt, you know," she said, causing him to direct his glare at her rather than the temperamental red-headed woman.

"Not for long," he ground out. The odds were against Severus anyhow, what with it being three against one…or rather four to one considering the fact that lovelle probably didn't want to see him yet (not that it really mattered. He was the adult, afterall).

"This won't take more than an hour at most," Mr. Weasley tried saying comfortingly as his wife prepared some tea. Minerva had followed Molly into the kitchen leaving the two men alone in the sitting room.

Severus merely pinched the bridge of his nose stressfully, knowing that the hour to come would be the longest sixty minutes of his life. What he did to deserve this, he did not know.