Snape's Criminal Daughter

Chapter 4

Dumbledore had apparated in front of the great wooden doors that were considered the front doors of Hogwarts. Stumbling inside, blood still dripping from his arm, leaving a trail behind him as he walked. He could heal himself, he knew that, but he preferred others to help with this sort of thing. Minerva Was the first to find him. 

"Albus!" She cried, running to his side. 

"Find me, Severus." He told her, his voice husky.

"But, headmaster!"

"Minerva!" She sighs, conjuring a Patronus, sending it to Snape. She stood with him until he came running, his cloak billowing out in a great, black cloud behind him. 

"Leave us, Minerva." She gave him a concerned look and left, walking back the way she had come. Severus's face paled as he strode forward. 

"What did you do this time?" He muttered, pulling out his wand. 

" Ah, Severus, always the caring type."

"No, simply wondering how you haven't died yet."

"It appears that your daughter has some exceptional gun abilities."

"She.........shot you?" He asked incredulously. He seemed shocked, but he continued to pull the bullet out of his arm, he was biting back screams.  

"Did she say anything?" 

"Nothing of importance."

"Term starts in less than three weeks, will she come?" His voice was etched with concerned. Albus smiled, despite his pain.

"Yes, yes I do think she will Severus, we simply have to wait."

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Eileen jolted awake, the sound of sirens closing in. Could they have found her? Perhaps, she had to leave, and fast. Snatching her bag that kept all of her essentials and her mask, she left. There was still money scattered around the warehouse, but there was no time to grab it all. Strapping her gun to her leg, and knives inside her boots, along with other weapons placed here and there. Climbing the debris up to the roof, that was her escape route. From there, crouching amongst the splintered wood, she could see the police cars racing toward my location. Coming closer, and closer. And then they zoom past. Her eyes follow them until they turn a corner and she could see them no longer. 

She stood and ran. Running along the rooftops take to much energy, so instead, she took the sidewalks, running past pedestrians, who gape at her as she speeds by. Some cheer for her, others try and stand in her way. She didn't  let them. She grabs ahold of a slow truck, just as it begins to speed up. Once she reaches the corner that the cars had speed down, She dropped down and rolled.  A wall of police cars line the end of the street, stopping any traffic from rolling through. She climbs a wall of a building, scaling to the roof. 

There were people. All of them dressed in black, black robes. And all of them held sticks, like the old man. What is this, some sort of cult? She thinks. She was getting quite tired of this. This was her city, and nobody else. Lying down on the roof, she takes the sniper that she had strapped to her back and moves into a position where she can see the group of people. She zooms in and aims at one of the people, its a lady, with unruly, black, bushy hair. 

"Gotcha." She whispers, she pulls the trigger. Looking through the scope, she sees the red flower of blood begin to bloom on the lady's chest, and she smirks. Bingo. She has collapsed on her knees, blood dripping onto the pavement. The police below her are startled, but they take it in stride and open fire. The leader of the gang raises his stick and some sort of shield stops the bullets from entering any more of them. He bends over the fallen woman, and waves his stick again, this time removing the bullet from her chest. Her wound heals, completely. Eileen freezes, that's not possible, she thinks, not physically possible. 

The leader catches her eye, he's bald, and his skin is pearly white. His eyes are red and piercing. His nostrils are slits not unlike a snake. He stands, gestures to one of his buddy's and points to the roof on which she is laying on. Damn. Jumping up, she replaces the sniper with a simple handgun and waits for the visitor. With a loud pop, he appears in front of her, and she opens fire. He jumps behind a chimney, as the bullets ricochet off. Out of nowhere, red beams of light surround her, and she lies down, hoping to avoid them. Her visitor reapers, shooting this time, a green jet of light at her. She dodges it, and jumps off of the roof, and into the line of police. With a pop, the man vanishes, as do his friends. With the immediate threat gone, the police turn their attention to her. 

She doesn't fight back, instead, she lets them cuff and searches her for weapons. They take her sniper, her handgun. They find the knives on her wrists, and the ones strapped to her thighs. A reporter catches her eye. She needs to talk to her, and this is the only way she can think of. She asks the officer if she can talk to the reporter, to give her fans one more glimpse of her. He glares at her, them not too kindly, walks her over to the camera man. When they realize that she is walking closer, they begin to pester her with questions.

 Are you the one they call the Black Shadow? Yes. How long have you been on the streets? Six years. How many different places have you robbed? I have lost count. What is your real name? That's none of your business. This stops them. 

"I have a message." She whispers, careful to disguise her voice from everyone. 

"There was someone looking for me." She starts. 

" He found me. Twice." Everyone is in complete silence, hanging on her every word.

" I expect your proposition." She says, loud and clear.

" You know where to find me. And one more thing. To my people of London, this won't be the last you see of me, I promise." And with that, she jumps, pulling away from the officer that holds her. In one fluid motion, she jumps, pulling her handcuffed hand in front of her, and grabbing the minuscule knife in her boot, and holds it to the reporter's throat. 

"Anyone moves and she dies!" Eileen cries out to the crowd. The police stop in their tracks, their guns still trained one her. She begins to pick the lock with her knife, moving slowly, but surely. When she finally heard a somewhat satisfying click, the handcuffs fell to the ground, and she backed up even more, toward the dark alleyway.

"Sorry about all of this." She whispers into the reporter's ear, making sure no one else can hear her. 

"Make sure this gets front and center on the paper, deal?" The reporter nods, fear practically dripping from her eyes. 

"Good, I owe you one." Counting to three, she pushes the reporter out of her reach and bolt for the alley, vanishing into the darkness. She can hear the people, they scream in assent, and she smiles under her mask. The Dark Shadow, she thought, escapes yet again.