Brogan had to skip classes the next day because her scar was too visible.  Also because she was completely exhausted and still pale and shaky but clearly that alone would not have kept her at home.

Draco was just washing up in the loo before lunch when Ron Weasley walked in.  Ron didn’t seem surprised to see Draco there, “How is…” he started.

“She’s okay,” Draco interrupted him, knowing their time was very short –anyone could come in at any moment.  “It lasted maybe another twenty minutes after you left and then she managed to sleep through the night.”

Ron looked relieved, but then he noticed Draco wasn’t finished.

“Has it ever, has it bled before?”  Draco shuddered at the memory; the blood had looked so dark and evil not bright and red like a skinned knee.

Ron swallowed and nodded, looking intently at the faucet he was playing with.  “Sometimes it does, I think it’s when You-Know-Who uses the killing curse on someone during a vision.  But usually the connection breaks soon after, I guess it’s the end of the party for them.  We should have expected it, he almost always does something on Halloween.

Sounds like you did well Draco, I’m glad.”  Ron clasped him on the shoulder for just an instant, and then he turned and left the room.

                                                               

When Draco brought Brogan her homework and copies of his notes that evening she seemed disturbed. “What ails you my fair lady?” he asked.

Brogan was stretched out on the couch with a quilt, she made a face and then answered slowly, “I hate missing classes because of him. Whenever he affects my life I feel like he's won something.”

“So we need to do something fun to make a statement. I was going to ask you to the Three Broomsticks this Saturday, now you'll have to say yes.”

Brogan smiled, “I guess I will. I can put all that make up stuff on and the girls will be so pleased when they see us.”

Draco pouted a bit, “but really, it’s because you want to have lunch with me.”

Brogan smiled and reached over to Draco who had lifted her feet and slid underneath. She threaded their fingers together and gave his hand a squeeze, “Yeah, really it’s because I would greatly enjoy lunch with you Draco.

And thank you so much for staying with me last night, the way you talked to me and that cold flannel you got really helped a lot.”

“You are most welcome.  I'm sure if Ron or I weren't around or if we called for him your da would have been here too.”

“I’m sure,” Brogan replied but her eyes didn’t seem to agree.

 

 

That Saturday was surprisingly warm. Brogan pulled out all of her clothes, more or less, and piled them around her bed and loveseat and then moaned over what she was supposed to wear.  Severus came in and suggested she seek female assistance.

Brogan looked at him in shock, “Luna?”

Severus shuddered the tiniest bit, “actually I was thinking of Astoria Greenglass or her sister. Draco is not as materialistic as he appears, or as his parents tried to make him but Luna...”

“Yeah, I know. Astoria is a good idea, I'll go see if she's still in the common room. Thanks Da.”

There was an awkward moment where a person who was raised as a girl probably would have kissed his cheek on her way out or maybe touched his arm, and Severus (to his embarrassment) thought she might, but she didn't. Sixteen year old Harry Potter would not have pecked Severus Snape on his way out, no matter how happy he was. She did look happy Severus told himself and that could be enough.

 

Draco had a very silly smile on his face as they tucked themselves into a much-coveted booth at The Three Broomsticks. Astoria had come in to the common room with Brogan to meet Draco for the walk to Hogsmeade so he knew that she had helped Brogan to get ready. The fifth-year deserved more points from Severus in Draco's opinion, and Brogan deserved points for having good features to work with.

“Stop with that stupid smile Draco, you make me feel as if I must look really crap on regular days.”

“Oh definitely not crap, easily good or in the right light beautiful, but today you're exquisite.”

“In the right light? What does that mean, in the dark?”

Draco flushed, “no, when the sun strikes your hair just so the red highlights show up and it's pretty.”

“Highlights? Good thing you're girly enough for both of us.”

“You're a girl Brogan, you're just trying to be extra brutish today to compensate for looking so nice.”

“Since when do they offer pop psychology at Hogwarts?” Brogan asked and then stuck her tongue out too for good measure.

After they had polished off their bowls of thick stew  Brogan returned from the restroom looking very upset.  “What is it?” asked Draco praying the answer wouldn’t be in anyway biological.

“Madam Rosmerta tried to imperius me so I would deliver this package to the headmaster.” Brogan replied softly pushing a crudely wrapped bundle across the table.  Draco recoiled slightly.

“What do you mean tried?” he asked placing a napkin over the package.

“Don’t you remember when Moody was our Dark Arts instructor fourth year?  I can throw off the imperius curse, I threw off Voldemort’s I think I can manage Rosmerta.”  Whispered Brogan and she actually allowed herself a haughty look for a moment.

Draco boggled for a moment at the thought of throwing off an unforgiveable from the Dark Lord and then realized that Harry had resisted the avada kedavra as an infant too.  He remembered the magical wind from Ollivander’s shop and dared to hope that his mother had left him in the care of the winning side.  “Does Rosmerta think the imperius worked?”  he asked and Brogan nodded quickly.

“Do you think Rosmerta was imperiused too?” Draco whispered.

“Yes,” hissed Brogan, “why else would she do such a thing in the loo?  She knows almost all the other students here, she could have just asked.”

Draco nodded thoughtfully and when he noticed Brogan reaching out towards the package he snatched it back, keeping the napkin firmly on top.  “Don’t,” he hissed, “don’t touch it.  What do you think it is -lemon drops?”

Brogan blushed, “I suppose not.  Have you seen the headmaster’s cursed hand?  I think the Death Eaters are trying to kill him.”

“You think maybe?” sneered Draco.  He dumped out a bag of sweets he had bought at Honeydukes and shoved the candy into his pockets, Brogan scooped some up and stuffed it in her coat pockets too.  Then Draco carefully placed the bag over the napkin and over the package and rolled it all up. 

Draco noticed the bar owner was behind her counter again, he hoped that the booth had shielded their conversation, he hoped that once her task of passing along the package was done she had forgotten everything, and while he was hoping he hoped that it was just a coincidence the package was passed to Brogan.  If they knew that Brogan was Harry surely they would have chosen someone else, someone not resistant to the imperius. 

Severus had given Brogan some pocket money when he heard she was going to Hogsmeade with Draco so she threw a few coins on the table and together they scurried back to the castle.  

 

They went to Snape first of course.  It wasn’t even discussed which would have pleased Snape enormously, but he was so horrified by the incredibly dark curses on the necklace they brought him that it never occurred to him. 

Dumbledore had been summoned through the floo shortly after Snape decided the object was dangerous and Brogan was trying to mentally teach Draco how to be completely still and quiet so the grown-ups might forget they were present.  Draco noticed what she was doing and saw it for the survival skill that it was, he also saw that it was far more effective when you were dark haired and child-size rather than himself. 

Of course Draco had the advantage of understanding what the professors were talking about, he also supposed, correctly, that they wouldn’t be dismissed until Brogan had been interrogated.

Brogan startled badly when Dumbledore and Snape swung around together to pierce her with their intent gazes and begin their questions. Draco moved closer and took her hand, "they aren't mad at you," he murmured, "you did everything exactly right. They're frightened because the necklace was cursed and if you had opened the package or touched it at all you could have died."

Brogan looked at him with large trusting eyes. "How do you know that?" she whispered back.

Draco just shrugged and nudged her to turn away from him and face the professors. The professors had, of course, listened in on the conversation and they were both trying to calm down and appear less frightening. They were a little bit ashamed too because if Draco hadn't been there or if Brogan had still been a boy they would not have paused despite the timidness being displayed.

Brogan told them the meager details she had and the professors seemed to pause to digest the information.  “Is it the same kind of curse professor as your hand?”  Brogan asked as softly as she could and still hope to be heard.

“It’s similar but I don’t believe the same person cursed the object I touched and this necklace.  This necklace was cursed centuries ago.”  Dumbledore self-consciously shook his sleeve down over his damaged hand.

“Did the spell I cast help sir?  Do you want me to cast it again or anything?”  Draco and Snape turned to her with wide eyes, they had no idea what she was talking about.

Dumbledore pulled his hand back out and held it for the girl to inspect, it was the least he could do.  “Yes and no my dear, the spell you cast has helped but you don’t need to cast it again.  Your magic has been like a bandage and has softened and slowed the effects, but like all bandages it can’t actually heal the wound.  Underneath your very kind bandage the curse still festers and it will eventually destroy me.”

“But if I cast the spell again wouldn’t that be a fresh bandage?”

“I’m afraid my analogy can’t be applied that literally, you have done all you can and I truly thank you for it.  You have comforted me greatly but you cannot cure me.”

“Oh,” was all Brogan could manage in her disappointment.  She hadn’t really thought that she had cured the headmaster but maybe she had hoped a bit.  Draco rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, he was surprised that she had tried to cure the headmaster but with her kind heart and the immense power in her wand, trying made sense and it sounded like she had managed a bit of something.

“If the Death Eaters are persevering in their attempts to kill me it seems I should begin the special meetings with Brogan sooner rather than later.  Are you free this evening Miss Snape?  Perhaps after dinner?”

“Sure,” Brogan nodded, as if she could say anything else.  She caught her da’s eye and he seemed vehemently displeased but he said nothing.

 

 

Hours and hours later Brogan and the Headmaster seemed to thump back down to his office.  Brogan was very white and the headmaster reached out a hand to her.  “Brogan dear, are you alright?” he inquired, wondering if he should summon tea or Severus.

Brogan stepped away from him jerkily with her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if she would fly apart.  “I can’t, I’m, I, Professor Dumbledore you had parents didn’t you?”

“Of course my dear,” he was about to say something flip about everyone having parents but thankfully caught himself.

“And you had birthdays and Christmases and they bought you stuff and there were hats and candles and all?”

“Yes,” he sighed fearing where she was going.

“Orphans don’t get that sir, maybe the lucky ones do but I don’t think Tom or I were lucky.  Everything I had when I was little was nicked from my cousin.  They were all broken so he wouldn’t miss them too much, sometimes I took things out of the bin because they would rather throw them away than give them to me you know.  But usually they poured ashes on top of the bin so that I couldn’t get stuff." She was pacing around and twisting her hands together.

"And I knew it was stealing but I was little and sometimes you just want things so badly when you’re little.  And you need them, you need them to show that you exist -that you’re not just poor-fitting hand-me-down clothes.  You’re not just a waste of space or a burden or a freak; or at least that you’re more than those things.

If you arrived at my cupboard like that professor with your suit all posh like that, and you pretended to burn up my things, my really really precious things sir,” and here Brogan turned and gave him such a look, a look of disdain and loathing, a look that cut right through him.  Brogan sighed, sorrowfully as if it hurt her to share this with him, “if you did that to my things I would have made sure that I destroyed all of your most precious things too sir.  Someday I would burn you and your stupid suit and your fakery.”

Dumbledore gaped at the girl, he had never expected this reaction and a tendril of fear began to snake through him.  He could tell that Brogan was trying very hard to control herself.  Was she implying that he was the reason Tom Riddle had become the Dark Lord, worse was she implying that he had done it twice?

Brogan held his eyes with hers, the wand wasn’t in her hand but it almost felt as if that magical wind was coming, his things, his instruments began to tremble all around the room.

“I need to leave sir,” she wrenched her eyes away.  “I need to go somewhere and calm down I think.” And she shakily turned to leave, she was so very white that Dumbledore feared he had hurt her physically too somehow.  He wanted to call out to her and tell her that it wasn’t like she had thought, he hadn’t really bullied Tom, he wanted to tell her that he had taken care to make sure Tom was taken care of when he arrived with warm clothes, tell her he had been sympathetic when Tom had begged to stay at school for the summers -but he knew Brogan wouldn’t believe him because he had done none of those things for Harry Potter either.

 

Brogan stormed through the halls in a haze, she stopped outside the room of requirement.  That was the safe place her feet had brought her, she needed a safe person too, someone she could spill all of her thoughts to before her heart exploded.  “Dobby?” she called to the air.

A moment later there was a pop and the little elf was before her, “Mistress Snape?” the elf started but then he stopped with a gasp and stepped closer reaching for her hand, “Is mistress okay?” he asked worriedly.

Brogan shook her head, “not especially I’m afraid.” She squeezed the elf’s hand back as hard as she could, knowing how much strength was really in those bony fingers.  “C-could you get my Wheezy please?  And ask him to meet me here?”  She dragged her arm across her face, blotting tears on the sleeve.

“Yes, Dobby will do that.  Your Wheezy is a good boy, he will help.  Do you want anyone else?  Do you want Professor Snape?  He cares too.”

“I know Dobby, I’ll talk to him too but later.  I think Ron can help me sort out what to say you know?”

“Yes, and Dobby will bring tea too,”  he disappeared while she was still murmuring her thanks.

Brogan felt slightly better now that she knew tea and reinforcements were on their way.  She slid down the wall and wrapped her arms around her knees to wait.

Ron came but he seemed a little miffed.  He sat down near her and kicked her ankle a bit, “I was with Hermione, you know.  Dobby tried to be sly but that’s not really a Dobby trait is it?  She’s going to be upset that you only sent for me.”

Brogan shrugged, she was beginning to second guess all of her reactions now and felt as if she was going to just throw up.  “I was panicking, I think.  You can go or get Hermione or whatever, it’s better now.  Well not better but, not panic.  Dobby is bringing tea we can ask him to go invite her, I just...  Sometimes Hermione has answers you know and I’m not ready for the answer yet or to see how a clever person would have handled it.  I guess I just wanted you because you know when to just nod.

And really I want to crawl on your lap and cry so hard that I throw up on your shoes and it’s embarrassing for me to do that in front of Hermione.  She’s so good at being a girl and I’m crap at it. 

And every minute that goes by I feel like what I just did was more and more stupid and now I’m wondering if I can avada kedavra myself and I’m hoping you’re strong enough to wrestle the wand out of my hand.”

“I guess those are pretty good reasons," Ron nodded,  "let’s get the door open so you can start talking, but you’re not going to puke on my shoes.”  Ron dragged her up and together they turned in front of the room three times.  Neither one had any idea what the room would present them with, it shouldn’t have worked at all actually, but it did.

There was a fire with a rug in front and two prim chairs.  They were both a little relieved that it wasn’t a couch and they were both a little bummed that it wasn’t a couch.  A table sprang up between the chairs and a tea tray appeared on it.  Ron moved for it at once but Brogan didn’t seem to notice.

She opted for pacing while Ron ate.  “So Dumbledore decided that he does need to actually train me this year.  Da threw a hissy of course but then he met with Dumbledore and Dumbledore explained that it wasn’t really training like hexes and curses but it’s giving me background information on Voldemort.  Which is of course a good idea so then Da had to allow it.

So,” here Brogan paused for a breath but also to try and decide whether or not to tell Ron about the necklace.  She decided to wait and tell both Ron and Hermione together about it, she knew that Ron had good points about the mistakes she was making excluding Hermione and she didn’t need to talk about that tonight. “Well, there’s a bunch of stuff that I should tell Hermione about so let me skip to the stuff that I wanted to tell you about first.”

Ron shrugged around the two sandwiches he was stuffing in his mouth together.  Brogan smiled fondly and continued, “so tonight Dumbledore pulled out his pensieve and brought me into this memory of when he delivered the Hogwarts letter to Tom Riddle.

Tom was just eleven and living in this orphanage, it was all cold and gray but Tom had a whole room to himself with a pillow, a bed and a window.  And Dumbledore was wearing this crazy suit that was all velvety and junk and he just pops in and is like, you’re a wizard my boy.  And they talk and Tom gets kind of shifty so Dumbledore decided he needed to get all showy.  He made Tom’s cupboard -the cupboard he kept his clothes and stuff in, he made it rattle and then he made the door open and this little box came out.  And you know just the sort of box, all little boys have them, it was full of all Tom’s treasures, the junk he had nicked from friends or pulled out of the trash probably.”  Here Brogan glanced up to make sure Ron was nodding, he was. 

“And then Dumbledore set the box on fire and was all ‘there’s no thievery at Hogwarts Tom’, blah blah blah and Tom looked like his whole world was in flames.  But then Dumbledore ended the spell and the box was fine, and Dumbledore was like the man and he was all, ‘now be a good lad and return that stuff.  Don’t miss the train, blah blah blah’.  And Tom’s face was just like, I will learn that spell and I will burn down your fucking house sir.”

Ron was a reasonable person, he knew that Brogan was overreacting to whatever she had seen.  And he knew why she was overreacting so  his heart ached for her.  Dumbledore was such a fool, not such a fool that Ron would blame him for creating Lord Voldemort, but really why did he have to share that memory with Harry?  The man was completely oblivious to what he had done leaving Harry at the Dursleys.

“And after the memory ended you shared your impression of what you had seen?”

Brogan blushed and nodded.  “I know it was uncalled for but you should have seen what a self-satisfied prick he was.  It’s like he has no compassion at all.”

“Hagrid delivered your letter?”

“Yeah, but only because the owls couldn't get through.  I guess they assumed the Dursleys had told me things instead of trying to squash the magic out of me.”  Brogan had stopped and was staring at the fire with her arms wrapped tightly around herself again.

Ron put his food down and opened his arms, “come here mate,” he beckoned her.  “Tell me the rest,” he prodded once she was settled.  He had one hand around her waist and the other was pressed over her heart feeling it thunder.

She looked at him and Ron smiled, “I can tell there’s more, tell me the part that you don’t want Hermione or Snape to hear.”

Brogan closed her eyes, he was right and this was the harder part.  “The Dursleys used to threaten me with the orphanage, they made it sound so horrible but Tom had a room, a whole room with a window Ron.  Imagine seeing the sky and watching the rain patter on the glass and feeling the air.”

Ron wrapped his arms tight and felt his own tears start, “I thought that’s what it might be, you slipped up mate when you were talking.  The cupboard he put his clothes in, a bed with a pillow...  Oh baby, they were so wrong to you.”

That was when the crying started for real, Ron found himself crying too and was a little relieved that Hermione wasn’t around.  He never even noticed when the chair they were in started rocking comforting them both.

Brogan had twisted now so that she could hide her face on Ron’s chest, her voice was muffled.  “And I got scared because if I was taking Tom’s side over Dumbledore’s, I mean I felt like it was me on that bed it was so uncanny, and if he became a Dark Lord then am I going to be one too?  But then I thought I’m not because I have you -and Hermione, but mostly you because your bed was next to mine.  That’s the reason, because your bed was there and you’re you and you let a miserable unloved little orphan lay next to you and called him mate before anyone else ever did.”  Brogan looked up and was shocked to see Ron’s tears.

“Ron?”

Ron, brushed his face a bit, he managed to smile, “you’re fucking contagious you are, I swear if I get tits I’ll kill you.”

Brogan smiled back and burrowed into his arms some more.

Not too much later Ron shook her, “we have to go.  Hermione and Snape will be going spare.  I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re waiting outside.”

Brogan slipped off his lap and blew her nose with a tissue from the box that appeared on the table.  She scrubbed at her scalp and shook her head.  “Okay, I suppose I should go talk to Da.  I’m sure Dumbledore already has.”

“Can we meet here with Hermione tomorrow?  Bring her up to speed?”  Ron asked and Brogan nodded.

“Do you want to bring Draco too?” Brogan looked up in surprise, she hadn’t realized they were so cordial.  But it would be good, she could see that, at the very least it would keep her from jumping in Ron’s lap when she got flustered. 

“Yeah, I’ll see if I can do that.  Maybe around four, maybe we can get tea again?”

“Sounds like a plan, owl if you can’t make it.”  Ron was standing right in front of her, smoothing her hair behind her ears and straightening the shoulders on her shirt.  He could see the pulse fluttering in her neck and it captivated him but he didn’t try to kiss her.  Well, he did hug her one last time and he did press his lips to her hair but hair kisses didn’t count.

Nobody was in the hall when they opened the door.  Ron had offered to walk her back to the dungeon but she didn’t want them to risk being seen together and it was really really far out of his way.  He seemed relieved when she declined.  Plus it gave her time to think, just what she needed -more thinking.  By the time she got there she was back in a state again, not as bad as before but the calm she had gained was gone.

Severus stood immediately and went to her when she came in.  He wrapped his arms around her, hardly awkward at all in his haste.  Brogan hugged him back and gazed up timidly, “what did Dumbledore say?”

“The Headmaster (it was an automatic response and there was no heat at all, just fondness for her) told me that he showed an appalling lack of judgement tonight and perhaps also fifteen years ago.”

“I overdid it too though.”  Brogan interrupted, “I’m just -I still, I still have trouble with emotional stuff I guess.  And it was hard to see a boy so much like I used to be in an orphanage.”

Snape pulled her over to the couch and sat next to her, “the Headmaster was confused by your use of the term ‘my cupboard’.”

“He catches everything doesn’t he?” Brogan said ruefully.

Snape folded his hands and looked down at them, “Bill and I saw your cupboard at the Dursleys.”

Brogan blushed and looked away, “oh, I didn’t know you saw that.”

“We felt that you already had so much to deal with that we could give you time before dredging up the misery of the Dursleys.  But, make no mistake, we both  planned to discuss their treatment with you.  Even now I find myself willing to put it off if you’d like but not forever.”

“It’s actually kind of comforting to hear that Da.  They were really awful but I’m not sure that excuses my behavior tonight.”

“You’re probably too harsh on yourself as usual.  I don’t think you actually told Dumbledore that his boorish behavior resulted in a Dark Lord.”

“Are you sure?  It felt like that was what I was saying.”

“He allowed me to view the memory as well.”  Brogan looked at him in surprise and Snape shrugged, “It may have been under duress but he did allow me to view it and knowing the tiny bit about your life at the Dursleys that I do your reactions made some sense to me.  I made sure that the Headmaster came around to that thinking as well before I left.”

“Parted on good terms then, eh?”

Severus just smirked.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come straight to you, I didn’t know you knew about the Dursleys so I went to someone who did.  I didn’t want to have to explain every bit, I just wanted instant sympathy.”

“And was it Mr. Weasley who provided that sympathy?”

“Yeah, he was mad that I didn’t ask for Hermione too -I had Dobby deliver my message, but Hermione is so quick she would have told me all the things I should have done instead and she would have pointed out all these reasonable things that I jumped over.  And by the time Ron came I already felt horribly guilty as it was.”

“You do look awful.”

Brogan stuck her tongue out but couldn’t disagree.  “Perhaps some Dreamless Sleep tonight,” Severus continued with an indulgent smirk.

“Does it have any ingredients from that other potion?”  Her da had narrowed it down to three substances that she was probably allergic to, the testing was slow because he still refused to ask for Madam Pomfrey’s help.

“Would I offer it to you if it did?” he sniffed.

“I suppose not,” she smiled back, basking a bit in having someone to take care of her.

Severus seemed to follow her thoughts precisely.  “I had an unhappy childhood too, my mother loved me dearly but my father was a miserable man.  I often wrestled with the temptation to steal as a child, others seemed to have so much and it didn’t feel fair to me.  If it was a small item and the guilt was not too overwhelming I would take things.”

Brogan looked at him with surprise.  Sure there was a long history of animosity between them but Severus Snape had always seemed exquisitely honorable, to learn that he had nicked things too was quite the revelation.  They shared a smile that became a smirk and Brogan imagined for a moment the two of them in black costumes stealing the crown jewels together.