Author's Note: Thank you to the new follower I have and the new person who favorited. I wish one of you wrote stories so I could give reviews or something back in return for this kind of attention and encouragement. This chapter we see Snape trying to parent and not doing it perfectly, but he's very much doing everything out of a place of good intentions. We also get to see Simone's already bad behavior start to edge into dangerous territory.

Next chapter, we get more of a time lapse and things progress forward much more rapidly. But in the meantime, constructive criticism, feedback, comments, ideas, questions, thoughts, suggestions and anything else you'd like to say is always appreciated. The only way I can become a better author is through being told what they do wrong and what they need to do. Thank you all again for reading!

"Magic would have set off the alarms at the Ministry," Snape began, but Simone, apparently having held this in for a good month, launched into a diatribe that blew all his objections out of the water immediately.

"The Ministry has had problems before with registering when foreign magic is used if it's obscure enough. Look at how much magic Qendrim used the summer after his first year in self defense – only the Hogwarts taught spells pinged their radar. The Albanian ones his family taught him didn't. I was a few houses away when the house was broken into, but I heard the noise and came running. When I got there, not a word of what that man was saying was Latin based like England's usual spells are. I don't know what it was, but it was completely different. He stopped when I pulled out my wand – I guess he didn't think there'd be a witch in Uyeasound – and he ran. I should have chased him, but I needed to try and help my mother…" She shut her eyes and took deep, calming breaths to maintain calm. "So the logical conclusion is that Death Eaters have, or at least some of them have, access to spells that are picked specifically not to be trackable by the Ministry of Magic."

Snape was finally taking her seriously. She'd never seen the gears in someone's mind turning faster. His eyes went wide and then narrow. "But why attack a Muggle in Uyeasound?"

"Qendrim's theory is that it's because Uyeasound is so remote. If they'd done it in London and a spell had registered at the Ministry, they'd be buried under Aurors before they could Apparate away. You do that same crime in the northernmost town of the northernmost island of Scotland, and even if a spell is traceable, you have a lot of time to get out before someone gets on the scene." Simone looked him in the eyes, desperately. "I'm not crazy. I saw a Death Eater. And they're up to something. Now, if you're really not a Death Eater anymore – don't give me that look, I said it to get a rise out of you, not because I really think it – then you should be able to help me. I want a list of names of the people who used to be Death Eaters who didn't go to Azkaban. We all know there's a bunch of them."

There was a pause. He looked at her with something like pride and sympathy, and she realized tears had welled up in her eyes just thinking about the man who had tortured her mother to death. No killing spell had been used, it was a culmination of at least four separate ones she'd heard shouted out, and the screams still had her waking up night after night shaking. Maybe Snape hadn't cared when he heard some Muggle he used to know had died under suspicious circumstances, but now that he knew a Death Eater had used her as a guinea pig for under the radar spells it was different. Now that he saw that Muggle's daughter – his daughter – standing there barely keeping it together, it became real.

But he couldn't let a fourteen year old girl go down this path. Revenge was potent, blinding, and corrupting. As much as she desired it, as much as her mother deserved justice, she would never move on if this obsession was allowed to continue. She was fourteen, she should be thinking about boys and listening to Wizard Rock and spending time with her friends, even if they weren't Slytherins. At her age teenagers cared about clothes and being cool, not murder, crime solving and Death Eater plots. He didn't want her to lose herself in this, drown herself in the approaching second war with Voldemort. He didn't want her so involved she would fight a Death Eater, because he had just gotten her, he couldn't lose her s swiftly afterwards. He just couldn't take it.

No, this information needed to go to Dumbledore and to the Order, because she was right in that off-the-grid spells were a danger they hadn't even thought of, one that could be a game changer. She was wrong to assume she could emotionally blackmail her own father into letting her be part of this fight. And so Snape did what every parent has to do: be the bad guy to protect his child.

"I will make sure this information reaches proper channels," he told her, voice firm and quiet. "I will not give you a single name, however, nor will I help you in this endeavor. It does not do the mind good to dwell on loss, no matter how much you loved who you have lost." He thought of Lily, the way he still woke up haunted by her visage, and his eyes softened. "I'll also ignore that you apparently carry Calming Potions in your flask. I used to keep small projects in mine; the house colors disguise what's inside very well. But I have to know who you buy these from. When incorrectly made, they can be toxic."

"He's made them right for three years, I think he's got it," she said, voice angry, hurt, even. "You're really not going to help me? This isn't just anyone, this is my mother. This is about family. This is everything to me!"

"And that is what worries me, Simone."

"It's Miss Connor to you," she snapped, still crestfallen her plan had failed so miserably, and she grabbed her bag and spun on her heel, leaving the room without another word.

"The professor's right, you know," Qendrim told her as she practiced one of her newer spells.

It was one that only worked if she was angry, and judging by how well it was going, he had not just helped her mood. "I'm going to be an Auror someday. I've read all the books, I've practiced every defensive spell, I could have this guy thrown in front of a court for a dozen charges if I could get ahold of him. I know what I'm doing."

The Albanian boy sighed. "And I suppose you're not going to stop even though he spelled out exactly why it's a bad idea?"

"It's a great idea. No one takes me seriously. I'm a girl, I look younger than I am, people think I'm harmless. Doubly so for Ivalu, and she's the one who's more familiar with the library. If we three pool our resources, we can find this guy and bring him to justice. This is a matter of national security, Qendrim. We can't just sit on our asses and do nothing." She was not merely determined, she was also stubborn. It was a potent combination that did not allow for perfectly logical suggestions to sink in. "All we need now is to come up with a plan."

"And do you have one?" He asked, almost dreading the answer. He was taking the September heat as an opportunity to take out and stir some potion ingredients together. He was enviable in skill at creating new potions, but what she valued and hated most was his ability to often be the only sane man in their group of friends.

"I'm working on it. Some eavesdropping and favors will have to be called in, but I know I can get a lead. I just need to try harder."

"You think you can take on a fully grown wizard who knows the Dark Arts and spells you've never heard of, and win? Honestly?" He looked up at her with a hard logic in his moss green eyes. He was aware of the ludicrous nature of his friend, that can-do spirit that made her fight for her dreams and always dream big. It was why she was a Slytherin. It was also absolutely insane the degree she took things to, and he was glad that contrary to school rumors, he wasn't crushing on her. He'd worry to death if he was. "You're a good witch, and you'll make a better Auror than most anyone I can think of, but you have limits."

"I create my own spells, remember? I'll be going in with things he's never even heard of. And not all my spells are just ice based. I'll just spend time practicing on the physical ailment spells in the meantime. Besides, I could work on translating that old Albanian spellbook you gave me for my birthday last year. Fluency in another language and," she added triumphantly to her skeptical looking friend, "I'll take the guy by surprise to get an advantage from the get go!"

"So you plan to out a man using off the radar spells using off the radar spells, and have him tried for unprovoked assault and murder by assaulting him unprovoked and risking a possible accidental murder in the process. If you could even find him."

"I can find him! I just need time. I'll come up with something!"

"Sim, did you not hear the rest of what I said? You'd end up in Azkaban for a stunt like this. You need to let it go. Let the authorities handle this and go clear your head. Your father-"

"Biological father," she corrected coldly, but he went on as if she hadn't spoken.

"-has a point. You're not going to get over your grief if you feed it like this."

Sim muttered something he didn't catch before storming off, stubborn as the day was long, and at first she was angry. At first she just wanted to punch him and Snape and scream until her lungs gave out that Death Eaters were out there circling and they had a plan and only she knew it. These thoughts were not separate sentences but one big long one, a trickle of water turning into a waterfall, a flood, anger finally giving way to worry, anxiety, sharp stabs of pain through her mind. What if she couldn't find the Death Eater? What if he got away with it? What if the rumors were true and a second Wizarding War was coming? A war was coming and she hadn't been able to help with everything she knew. So useless, she was so useless. She was a skinny nobody who threw up like a baby and couldn't brew a Potion to save her life and Merlin help her, all she was trying to do was help, she just wanted to save them all. She didn't want anyone else to die like that. If only she'd known healing magic like Qendrim she could have saved her mother but she hadn't.

She couldn't save her mother. She couldn't save the wizarding world. She couldn't even keep herself calm. Frustrated, hating herself for not being as bright and talented as a Slytherin should be, at a loss as to what to do next, she wandered through the castle until she found a girl's bathroom to hide in. The world felt like it was crashing down. She'd been so sure Professor Snape would help her. That Qendrim would be behind her. But everything she'd been sure of had failed her and the first week of school wasn't even over yet. Everything in her twisted, and she reached for her bag, where she still had slipped the now five vials of Calming Potion that Qendrim had given her. He'd told her never to take more than one in six hours. The effects normally lasted eight hours, sometimes ten, so it was advice she'd never even needed before. Right now, staring down at the comforting dandelion colored glow of the potions, she wondered if she could bend the rules just once. Snape had talked to her before lunch, it was after classes now, that was nearly four hours if she rounded it up. Another one couldn't hurt. And it was just this once. Just so she could get back to her dorm without throwing up and getting another lecture from the prefects.

The cooling flow of the lighter-than-water liquid slipped down her throat in an instant, and before she knew it the vial was empty, and she made her way back to her room without noticing the sway in her steps or the way she couldn't quite remember what she'd been upset about.

Dawn found her with a new plan.

She'd have Ivalu have an ear to the ground about all info about Voldemort that she could from her position in Gryffindor. After all, Harry Potter was the Boy Who Lived and he was in her House. She ought to be able to come up with a nugget of useful information. Akakios was Pureblood of the highest caliber, five hundred years confirmed lineage, so he would have to be the one listening for any talk of Death Eaters for her. She paid him for it but his concern outweighed his confusion as he agreed to it; Sim would explain it to him later. She'd spent three years talking to him and trusted him not to be a Death Eater himself, he was too gentle spirited and caring for it. Thankfully others didn't know him that well and might slip up in front of him. This would at least get her a name list to go off of once some time had passed.

In the meantime, even if she wasn't sure if her magic could be tracked by the Ministry, she knew within Hogwarts bounds they didn't track it. So it was time for her to learn how to sneak out at night and go into the forest. The spells she had that weren't ice or water based were things she could never practice on a human. Qendrim had told her once he wasn't sure if some of the things she came up with counted as Dark Art magic or not. Sim didn't care. She was a soldier in training for the day that her enemy was located. She had a plan now. She would do her homework, go practice her normal and class assigned spells alike, and by night train in the other magic not suitable for daylight hours. Sim may have been a skinny little nobody, but that was what she was counting on. Nobody expected the skinny little nobody to be packing any kind of magical heat.

She needed to refine her normal magic and non-ice based magic in case the Death Eater recognized her when he saw her. He would doubtless have prepared for it in advance if he had connected her surname to her mother's and looked into her background. 'Dark' magic or not, she would need it to win against him when she found him. She spent her Charms class taking detailed notes and actually made an effort in History Of Magic when they covered Medieval magic, writing down terms she could look up in the library. Old spells might be useful to her, too. She had to focus or thoughts of her mother would creep in and she would break down. Simone Connor did not do breakdowns. Her pride couldn't tolerate them, her self esteem was broken by them, and she would fall back into self hatred like yesterday.

Simone begged off a book of spells from Ivalu, who reminded her she would have to translate the instructions from Danish into English in order to use the Greenlandic spells, which she was likely to mispronounce. She shrugged and went to the library at lunch, picking up a book on translation charms. It was as she left there, weighed down with Qendrim's old Albanian spell book, Ivalu's Greenlandic one, a book on the history of curses and a book on how emotions effected spell casting that she ran into Professor Snape, glowering at her with disapproval. She walked right past him without any hesitation, already tired of arguing with him before they even spoke.

"I don't have time for this," she informed him, tone all business. "Shouldn't you be off coddling Malfoy?"

"You are ignoring my wishes," Snape said, falling into step beside her. She increased her pace, irritated, but a vague ghost of a smile came over her face.

"Under the rules, no Professor can ban a student from studying spells on their grade level. You never told me not to do this. I'm ignoring no wishes of yours here." As a concession, she added, "I'll give you that I'm not getting lunch today, but that's because lunch is the least supervised meal in the Great Hall and I have zero desire to have my food hexed. If I don't test it first, I don't eat it. Dinner will come around soon enough."

He walked behind her for a staircase and a stretch of hallway before grabbing her shoulder. "Simone-"

"Miss Connor."

"Simone, I can accept that learning foreign magic is out of my jurisdiction. But as your Head of House I am within my rights to order you to eat. Put your books your bag, and come with me to my office. I assure you, my food is neither hexed nor laced with anything suspect." He looked into her eyes and was startled to find not hatred there like yesterday, but suspicion. She genuinely did not trust him not to have put a potion into her food. Somehow that slapped him across the face emotionally. Was this how scared of the world his daughter was? Was this how little she could trust anyone, even Professors and family? He needed to research into the depths of just how she had been bullied, something she should already know. "At least have a few biscuits."

She teetered, looking torn, but her expression hardened. I am a soldier in the pre-emptive war against Voldemort. I can't let anything distract me. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'll have to ignore that offer. Give me detention if you want. This is too much too soon and we both know it." It was. To sit there eating with him like he was an old pal would be impossible. It would only end in an argument, with yesterday's wound of rejection so fresh to her.

"Very well, S- Miss Connor," he said, looking utterly defeated for a moment before his back straightened and he grew determined to try again. "You will instead have to take a new partner in Potions."

Akakios could use that to his advantage, talk to his fellow Purebloods, make some allies. This plays right into my plan now. You might be useful after all, 'father'. "Fine by me. I'll partner with whoever will take me. Will that be all, sir?" She felt guilty using him when he was trying to reconnect, but he wasn't forgiven yet. Not after three years of this. Disregarding yesterday, there was a lot she wanted an apology for. A simple 'I'm sorry' would mend so much, and yet he had not uttered the two words that would truly start to break down the walls between them.

He was annoyed his attempt at a trump card hadn't worked, but unable to come up with anything else, he ground out, "That will be all, Miss Connors."

It was dark, and the sounds of the forest were unnatural and unfamiliar.

Simone had wandered all of the land around Uyeasound with Ramsay as children, creeping out from their sleepovers as seven year olds, dressed in all black pretending to be spies or explorers or whatever struck their fancy. Back then she weighed what she should and they spent time peeking around trees and being awed by any bird or rodent they saw. Her eyes had been wide and cheerful, her tiny hand clutching her torch or 'flashlight' if they were pretending to be Americans that night. The Simone that walked to the edge of the forest that night was indeed clad in black from head to foot – no robes, she found the idea of fighting in them ridiculous – from her knit black jacket to her black skinny jeans tucked into her dragon skin boots. Silently, wand at the ready but never lit, she moved to the edges, looking carefully. There were paths, but she needed the one hardest to see from the castle, farthest from the light of Hagrid's hut.

The not yet half moon gave a little light, and she went forward. There was no giggling, no smiles, no childish joy here. There was no panic at being caught; she was confident in her abilities to sneak out here if she could manage getting past Filch on the way out. If she were in good humor she'd be amused by the fact that Filch was harder to deal with than whatever was out here. Tonight was not a night of good humor. Right now she had nothing in her other than darkness. Hatred for her enemy, disdain for her own failure, anger at so many people for so many past offenses all were inside her. Instead of being ready to scream, though, it settled over her like a weight, a cloak of emotions she wore around her.

It did not take long walking on the path before something stirred. She stepped back and pressed herself against the nearest tree, waiting for whatever it was to come forward. Sim strained her hearing but heard nothing behind her, only in front of her. So she stood still, barely daring to breathe, waiting. Seconds were years. Yet contrary to that, two wolf like wild dogs burst forth in front of her, their eyes glowing ominous red, transfixing. Fortunately she didn't let herself be bewitched by the eyes due to how focused she was on her created spells, the so-called 'Dark Arts' in the making she'd been crafting.

"Irapraefuro!" she snapped, whipping her wand at the nearest one.

The effect was instant. The black animal turned, whipping its head from side to side, ears perking, seeing and hearing things that were not there. As it growled and barked warningly at nothing, its' companion ran at her, seeing an opening. It was a blur of darkness in the dark, but a strange dark satisfaction had settled over her as soon as the first one began to twitch and stare at nothing. Vicious curiosity went through her, and she switched her aim to the target barreling towards her.

"Tremefa Malu!"

She'd never heard an animal have a seizure before, but it dropped like a rock, legs failing, whimpering loudly, shoulders convulsing, gasping for air before it stopped and got to its' feet. Simone stepped towards them, ready for more practice. The one that had convulsed ran as fast as it could and vanished into the forest. It hardly mattered. That spell was supposed to last longer, and the hallucinating dog had no comprehension she was drawing nearer. A pang of guilt briefly flashed through her for doing this to innocent creatures. She shook the thought away, raising her wand higher for another swipe, gray eyes hardening. I am a soldier in training for the next war against the Dark Lord. I am an Auror in training. I am going to fight Death Eaters. This has to be done. Her expression grew blank with anger. Because no one would ever do this for me, not even my father, I have to do it for myself.

"Tremefa Malu!" she shouted, and the dog's cries eclipsed all the other sounds of the forest.