Spiral of Despair by Henna Hypsch
Summary: A year after Voldemort’s death, Harry and Snape have reached a brittle reconciliation with one another. Harry wishes Snape would speak more to him about Lily, but Snape is being stubbornly secretive and jealous of his private life. Harry’s own relationship with Ginny is getting shakier. Hermione has initiated a campaign in the press against Obliviating spells which will have unexpected consequences for Neville Longbottom, and the Auror Office is looking for Voldemort’s son, without really believing that he exists.

In the second part of “Spiral” Harry goes to medical school at St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries and lives at Grimmauld Place in London with Ginny, Ron and Hermione. As to Snape, he is a multitasking headmaster who seems to turn up ever so often in Harry’s life.
Categories: Teacher Snape > Professor Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Arthur, Ginny, Hagrid, Hermione, Luna, McGonagall, Molly, Neville, Other, Ron
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: 8 - Post Hogwarts (young adult Harry)
Warnings: Alcohol Use, Romance/Het, Romance/Slash, Suicide Themes
Challenges: None
Series: Spiral
Chapters: 23 Completed: Yes Word count: 98719 Read: 8385 Published: 28 Aug 2022 Updated: 27 Nov 2022
Chapter 23 A Somewhat Troubled Ending by Henna Hypsch

There were only a few weeks left before the end of term, but these weeks ended up being considerably more harmonic than the previous part of the year, where Harry and Snape were concerned. To Harry, in retrospect, it seemed like a Lethifold had ridden on his back the major part of his first year outside Hogwarts, and that he had only recently shaken it off. The long months of winter and spring were but a blur to him. If the events by the cave and his ensuing illness had worked as a purgatory on Harry, rough but necessary, the reconciliation with Snape functioned as dittany on a wound. When they did the Double Knight’s Move together on the Auror training premises, docking their magic into one another and swirling about in the air, it was as if it fuelled Harry’s confidence in himself, but also showed him that there were people - or at least someone – who could cope with his sometimes overwhelming magical impulses without shying from them, who even seemed to appreciate them, and whom Harry could in a literal magical way lean on.

Harry’s relationship with Ron and Hermione also benefited from the change of focus away from Harry’s misery, over to the unavoidable excitements of a first pregnancy in a young couple, clouded at times, unfortunately, by the worry over the curse possibly cast by Farrow Riddle. Harry made his best, however, to distract his friends from these worries, and doubled his attentions to them. He also renewed his interest in his youngest friends, Teddy Tonks Lupin and baby Sophie Starmed Lovegood: where they had been a great solace to him during his dark period, he was now able to repay their unconscious help with more active and happier participation in their lives.

Harry continued to keep up with all his friends, but was definitely more moderate, not to say restrictive, when it came to the booze. Yet, his friends found him more relaxed, even if the more sensitive among them detected veils of sadness passing over his face from time to time, and the less sensitive still found him a bit absent-minded. As a whole, he seemed to be doing much better, though.

Professor McGonagall had set Harry a new, secret, task, which caused him to call on her frequently in her office at Hogwarts, every time he was there visiting Snape or Hagrid. Harry and Snape had both overcome the chief part of their awkwardness over Snape’s breakdown six months earlier and Harry was able to enter the headmaster’s office without being overly conscious about the scene which had once taken place there. Of course, he was henceforth tactful enough never to mention the episode with Lily’s letter, which was not to say that he did not think about Lily and Snape sometimes and wonder.

*

The Saturday after the end of term at Hogwarts, Harry paid Snape a visit at Spinner’s End and unexpectedly ran into some relatives of Snape’s. Harry apologised profusely for interrupting the family reunion, although it was Harry who actually had an appointment with Snape whose relatives must have called unannounced just before his arrival. Snape looked sour, anyhow, and the atmosphere was a little tense when he introduced Harry to the three guests who were seated with cups of tea in front of them and a small plate with a meagre display of shortbreads on the low-slung table beside the coach, which was the main furniture in the middle of Snape’s small living room.

A man who was considerably older than Snape with a pleasant face which Harry recognised from somewhere rose first and shook hands with Harry. He proved to have an impressing square, tall figure and yet somehow a soft countenance.

“You’re a healer,” Harry said, remembering where he had seen the wizard.

“Quite right, I’m healer Poundher – I do bones, mostly,” he said in a deep voice.

“Of course,” Harry said eagerly. “I’ve seen you down at the Emergency once or twice, when we’ve had these really serious trauma cases – that wizard last month for example who was crushed under a stone wall, which had crumpled because of an attack from their pet Graphorn. I’m so impressed you managed to restore those multiple fractures without resorting to Skelegrow.”

“I make the occasional appearance at Emergency,” the healer said, amused by Harry’s enthusiasm. ”Crushed bones are my speciality.”

“So, you are…?” Harry gestured from the healer over to Snape.

“I’m a cousin of Severus’ mother, on her maternal side, but Severus always called me ‘uncle’. Poor Eileen was an only child, and not a very attaching one at that, I might add, but I kind of liked her. These are my niece and nephew.” The healer gestured at the two younger guests: a smartly dressed girl who looked to be only a bit older than Harry, and a younger boy who was probably seventeen or eighteen. They, too, rose and shook hands with Harry. The girl who introduced herself as Stella Poundher, scrutinised Harry with rapt, almost impertinent interest. It was the boy, called Rudrik, who spoke first, however:

”I, too, am going into healing next year. That’s why I wanted to come along and meet uncle Snape when uncle Poundher said he was coming here.” The boy spoke with a slight accent that Harry could not place. “Uncle Poundher is my real uncle, or half uncle anyway, since my father is a younger half-brother of his. But we’ve actually never met uncle Snape before.” There was a generous use of the word ’uncle’ Harry reflected, raised his eyebrows and looked at Snape.

“Mr Evans is a healer apprentice as well, so you two will be seeing each other at St Mungo’s next term,” Snape said, choosing not to comment on the family connections.

“My uncle calls you Evans, but you’re really Harry Potter, aren’t you?” the girl Stella said shrewdly, smiling insipidly. “I recognised you from the papers,” she added when Harry winced and stared at her. People usually did not recognise him any longer because he hadn’t made more than a handful of appearances in the press, with photo, since the end of the war two years ago, and had always made sure to have his photograph taken when he wore his glasses. Harry looked wonderingly at Stella. Did she colour the slightest, or was he imagining things? He felt uncomfortable, and started to regret that he had entered Snape’s house that evening – he had to remind himself that he was actually on a mission, one that Snape did not know anything about, so he had no choice but to stay put, did he? Harry ended up giving a curt nod as confirmation of Stella Poundher’s statement.

“I had no idea, no idea at all,” Healer Poundher said, looking from Harry to Snape in earnest surprise. “But then I always seem to miss out on rumours at St Mungo’s.” Snape cleared his throat.

“Why don’t we all sit down,” he proposed and his guests obeyed. Harry brought forth a pin chair which stood against the wall and sat down as well. “I’d appreciate if you kept young healer apprentice Evans’ identity to yourself - it’s…” Snape started to say, when they were all startled by the floo calling in the fireplace. Professor McGonagall’s stern voice rang in the room:

“Severus, you are needed at the school as soon as possible, please.” And as an afterthought, she said: “Sorry to disturb you on a Saturday evening.”

“I have guests, Minerva – is it urgent? Students left the castle yesterday – what could possibly…”

“You’re needed – I’ll explain when you get here.” Professor McGonagall interrupted.

A deep crease had appeared between Snape’s eyebrows, and he sought Harry’s eyes out. What was this about, his gaze seemed to inquire, but for once the young wizard’s face was the more inscrutable of the two.

“If that’s Harry Potter with you, bring him along as well,” Professor McGonagall promptly called out. ”I want him here too.” Snape raised his eyebrows. If his young relative had not already spotted Harry’s identity they would have learnt about it now.

“Oh, well, we’ll come through,” Snape said curtly.

“Don’t come by the floo! Go by Apparition and I’ll meet you at the entrance. Goodbye!” And the professor was gone from the fireplace which was promptly extinct from flames.

There was a bustle in the room, since Snape’s guests realised that the family reunion had ended almost before it got started, and that they had no choice but to retreat. Stella was the one who seemed the most disappointed. Snape’s uncle Poundher said:

“Well, we really mostly wanted to wish you a happy birthday, a week in advance, Severus. These youngsters insisted on accompanying me when they heard where I was heading. I hear you’re planning on spending the big day on Iceland?”

“I’m doing my best to escape any excessive silliness because of a mere date,” Snape murmured as he ushered his relatives towards the door. “I will probably be spending the day herding sheep on a mountain, just to prove the pointlessness of it all.”

“It’s your fortieth birthday, my boy, it calls for celebration, doesn’t it?” the uncle said, winking at Harry.

“Of course it does,” said Harry with a slightly mischievous smile, which he wiped off as soon as he saw Snape’s suspicious gaze upon him. “But now, we should leave for Hogwarts,” Harry added gravely, “Professor McGonagall really sounded quite anxious for us to come.”

*

They Apparated straight to the gates and let themselves inside on the grounds. Striding up towards the castle, with a setting sun to their right over the forbidden forest, Snape mumbled to himself and to Harry:

“I don’t like the feeling of this. It might be a trap.” Snape was slowing down, listening to his instincts. “I’m sure it’s a set trap. We should alert Mrs Steadfast straight away.” Snape stopped altogether and started to fiddle with his security watch.

“Severus,” said Harry. Snape looked up, unused as yet to Harry using his first name, which Harry mostly did when they were alone, seldom in front of others. The young wizard drew a deep breath. “I told them you’re not going to like it, and that you’d be hard to fool, but they predicted this, too,” he said, shaking his head, “Mrs Steadfast is going to reply that she’s waiting for you at the castle, you see, and then they will have lured you in anyway.”

“Mrs Steadfast is in on this?” Snape said, frowningly.

“I’m going to tell you everything now, okay? Just so that you’re a bit more prepared when you enter the castle. Knowing you, I think it’s better, definitely better. But they wanted to surprise you. Professor McGonagall’s behind it all – she’s been planning it for months. It’s a birthday party.” Harry smiled tentatively at Snape, spreading his hands - he managed to look very innocent. Snape lifted his palm to his front.

“A birthda… what? You mean the closest staff and Mrs Steadfast?” he said.

“Hmm… A bit grander than that, I’m afraid,” Harry responded and bit his lip. ”More like… a hundred guests… or two…”

“Two hundred?!”

“Let’s say a hundred and fifty. I really tried to keep it down.”

“Because you’re in on it as well, naturally? By all white hot Goblins’ swords, Harry, I don’t want a party!” Snape barked.

“I know, I know,” Harry said soothingly, impressed all the same that Snape had not reverted to Potter-ing him since he was so angry. ”But you’re, you know, quite the celebrity nowadays.” Harry could not help himself from stressing the word slightly. “And I think that you just need to accept it and live up to it. The Ministry was on about doing something in your honour, too, so it would have happened in one way or other – with this you’ll be done with it, kill two birds… and all that.” Harry trailed off and looked a little pityingly at his professor.

”Ministry people!” Snape spat disdainfully. ”To think that I was grateful when there wasn’t such a turn out at the Hogwarts school ball this year. That’s because they counted on coming now, I gather - those social predators at the Ministry!” Harry raised his eyebrows and acquiesced. Snape suddenly looked more rattled than angry.

“Look at me, I’m in no shape to host a party. I’m not dressed for the part, for once,” he muttered irritably.

“Let me,” said Harry. “Just a few spells. And professor McGonagall has got you a new cape. They want to celebrate you, you know, not humiliate you – it’ll be fine.”

Snape let Harry help him spell his outfit smarter, while glancing nervously up at the castle where a suspicious amount of windows had been lit. He seemed to begin to accept his fate this evening and asked:

“Entire staff, then, and Ministry people, who more?”

“Members of the Order, former members, I mean. No one from St Mungo’s though, I managed to put a stop to that. Otherwise I guess your uncle Poundher would have been invited,” said Harry. Snape puffed his cheeks.

“Only good that came out of this is that I got away from that awkward meeting with my relatives! I don’t mind old Poundher, but I’ve no idea why those youngsters turned up,” Snape said sourly, and then, as if a thought hit him, he bored his eyes into Harry’s.

“I hope, by Merlin, and for your sake, there’s no press!”

“No press,” Harry reassured him. “Shall we go?” Snape squirmed and muttered, but started to walk with heavy steps, as if heading towards his execution.

“What was your task in all this, anyway?” he asked irritably. “Tie me up with misty ropes and bring me in at all costs?”

“More… like… appease you… or something” Harry answered reluctantly. “Mrs Steadfast thinks you and me have made such progress in our difficult relationship lately,” he added with irony. “She wants to encourage us.” Snape sniggered in response. “I did rob Professor McGonagall and Mrs Steadfast of their surprise effect by telling you in advance just now,” Harry added, fishing for Snape’s forgiveness.

“Serves them right!” Snape said grimly. He straightened his back. ”Here we go then.”

*

The birthday feast did not turn out remotely as horrible as Snape must have pictured in his mind. Harry even suspected Snape of enjoying himself from time to time. There were awkward moments, of course, and a few speeches too many. The instance when Snape seemed the most affected was when Professor McGonagall addressed him, with surprising honesty and tenderness. All that loyalty that Professor McGonagall had held for Dumbledore during all those years had now been transferred, Harry was sure, to Snape. She offered the headmaster a beautiful gift as well, one that had actually been Harry’s idea, and which he helped her deliver. It was an unusual species of a phoenix bird, of a Siberian breed, with colours in metallic green and silver. Harry could tell that Snape was moved when he accepted it, because he bowed his head deep down, in order for his hair to curtain his features. When he straightened up again, the headmaster was just about composed enough to give a short thank you speech which, however, received an overwhelming thunder of an applause.

True to magical customs, the guests expected to dance after the feast, and tables were pushed aside to make room for swirling couples. Narcissa Malfoy was a guest, although Harry did not see how she was connected with the Ministry, nor of course, to the former Order of the Phoenix. Harry had not spotted her son, Draco Malfoy, who had been involved in the Shiftings’ criminal activities last year and Harry had heard Mrs Steadfast say that she suspected Draco Malfoy had gone into hiding in the US. Meanwhile, Narcissa Malfoy seemed to be doing fine. She had started to approach Snape with allusions and insipid questions, making herself frequent errands up on the podium where Snape stood in conversation with the Minster of magic, Kingsley, the Weasleys and some other former Order members, as well as Professor McGonagall, Harry and Mrs Steadfast. Harry also spotted Madam Womberry, who was another of Snape’s female acquaintances, and who contrary to Narcissa Malfoy, remained seated at a distance, keeping a superior and confident eye on Snape. Mrs Steadfast slung both ladies suspicious glances and seemed to sink into a somewhat sombre mood as the dancing was about to start. Ron and Hermione was already on the floor, eager to be one of the first couples out.

“So where did you find that magnificent bird?” Kingsley wanted to know.

“It was Harry’s idea,” said Professor McGonagall. Harry coloured a little.

“I always thought there was something missing in Professor Snape’s office, it always felt a bit bare compared to Dumbledore’s,” he said. “I realised that a magical creature like this would give it more life, and I suggested this bird specifically. I hope it will be good company for you, Sir.” Harry looked timidly at Snape.

“I’m sure it will,” the professor said. “I’m glad that this species doesn’t burn very often, though - only once a decade according to our groundkeeper. Minerva, you must remember all the trouble Dumbledore had with Fawkes every quartile after he was reborn and needed beak-feeding for almost a week.” Snape and Professor McGonagall shared a quick gaze of tender recollection.

“I remember,” she said softly.

 “This one was reborn only two years ago, so Hagrid told me,” Snape went on. “Our ground keeper has bestowed me with a large amount of advice on how to care for it. I suspect Hagrid will be a frequent visitor to my office now.”

“But how did it get to Scotland?” Kingsley wanted to know.

“Well,” Harry started to explain. “My friend Hermione Granger put me in contact with a person she knew from Durmstrang and who lives in Siberia, Victor Krum, the Quidditch player, you know? He found the bird, and Mrs Steadfast cleared the paperwork at the Ministry so we would be bringing it in legally and all. Krum organised the transport and Hagrid and I…” Harry stopped in the middle of the sentence and stiffened. His eyes widened. “Ginny…” he said.

“What? Oh…” said Mrs Weasley nervously. “Yes, Ginny might be coming tonight. She’s home from France for the summer. We didn’t want to tell you because she wasn’t certain she’d join us tonight. If she was coming she would be late, she said, didn’t want to attend the feast, only the dancing, and…”

Harry did not seem to listen to her. He had turned around and was heading down the podium, making his way purposefully through the crowd.

“What on earth…?” said Mr Weasley.

“By Jupiter!” said Mrs Steadfast.

They watched Harry move even farther away almost to the opposite end of the room, and there, finally, the stunned audience caught sight of what Harry must have seen or felt all the time – a ginger head on a mannequin figure dressed in a slim white dress.

“How… How did Harry know Ginny was here?” Mrs Weasley wanted to know in a faint but shrill voice. “He had his back turned on that crowd! And it’s impossible to distinguish one voice from another over all this racket!”

Mr Weasley’s eyebrows almost hit the hairline. Mrs Steadfast shook her head, puzzled. Snape muttered something about magical signatures, but frowned deeply and went quiet quickly.

“By Venus’ lost moons, I hope this doesn’t abolish the recovery that he has made the last month,” Mrs Steadfast said, giving voice to the preoccupation that everyone felt at that moment. Mrs Weasley rose on her toes to have a better view over the crowd of Harry and her daughter.

“He has… Yes, I think he has asked her to dance… They’re holding hands… Now, they’re dancing…” she exclaimed. “Oh, Arthur, this is wonderful! They’re so beautiful together! Look at them!”

“Yes, dear,” Mr Weasley said, smiling at his wife. “Let’s hope for the best, shall we?” Mr Weasley did not sound entirely convinced but was obviously prepared not to linger on that feeling. “Do you want to follow their example and dance with me, Molly?” The small group descended from the podium and split up.

Several dances later, there was a pause in the music. Snape who had been dancing with professor McGonagall had managed to manoeuver themselves to stop right next to Ginny and Harry, who had been dancing together unswervingly since they met up. Harry had red spots on his cheeks and had his gaze fastened upon Ginny with glowing eyes as if he were spellbound. Professor McGonagall, however, paid no deed to his obvious fixation on his partner. After having exchanged a few polite words with Ginny, the professor reminded Harry that he had promised her a dance.

“You’re so nimble on your feet, and with your magic, Harry,” she said matter-of-factly. ”I remember from last year’s school ball. You cannot deny me the pleasure.” Harry looked rather dazed as he tore his eyes from Ginny and reluctantly stretched a hand out to Professor McGonagall.

”Will you do me the honor Miss Weasley?” asked Snape, and Ginny nodded in surprise. ”I will return her safely to you right after this dance,” Snape said politely to Harry who gave a mute nod as the music started again, and he sailed away with Professor McGonagall.

Trying to make conversation to her former student proved to be hard, however. Harry was inattentive, almost appeared confused. Finally Professor McGonagall gave up.

”You haven’t seen Ginny for a long time have you?” she said and Harry shook his head, turning it from left to right in order to try to fix his eyes on Snape and Ginny.

”You have returned from France?” Snape asked Ginny politely in another part of the Great Hall, while dancing.

“For a few weeks only. The Quidditch season will start again in six weeks, when the tourists will come and watch us play,” she answered. Snape was silent for a short while.

”May I ask what are your intentions concerning Harry?” he proceeded, not able to prevent a stern ring to his voice.

”May I reply that it is none of your business, Professor?” Ginny said lightly. Snape’s mouth twitched slightly.

”I, and others, have been forced to take care of the shattered pieces that your ruthless behaviour left Harry in this Christmas, Miss Weasley. It took the greater part of this term for him only to pull himself together… It was rather going downhills for a substantial space of time, and he’s still…”

”Are you cautioning me?” Ginny said haughtily. ”Harry is strong and can make his own choices, Professor.”

”I agree with you to a point - Harry is strong - and vulnerable - at the same time. It’s remarkable how unharmed his core is with the childhood he’s had and the ordeals he’s been through, but…” Ginny interrupted angrily:

”And I remember a time when you yourself contributed to Harry’s sufferings in a not inconsiderable way, Professor.”

”Spare me Miss Weasley,” Snape’s eyes bore into hers. “I was merely a bad-tempered teacher whom you all loathed. It does the pupils good to have at least one of that kind of teacher, to let out their pent-up frustrations on. I might have gone too far with Harry, though, which I am sorry for now and trying to make up for. But you leaving him really broke him… He has been abandoned too many times, Miss Weasley, in his life. Regardless of his strength, such experiences leave their marks. He even let up his life at one point to benefit the greater good of the wizarding world. He has made sacrifices no one can ask for of someone his age and…”

”And you believe it’s my place… my duty… to stand by his side, do you?” Ginny spat. ”To take care of The Chosen One? He might deserve a loyal, faithful and never swerving tender girlfriend or wife… but what says it has to be me? Who says I must shoulder that part, invest my feelings and take care of the hero of the wizarding world and who, I might add, still is in mortal danger from Merlin knows what criminal lunatics, and who just might be attacked and blown to pieces any moment? Like you implied, death has played an important part in Harry’s life, but maybe I don’t want a role in the same play. Where is my say in this? I am my own person and make my own choices.”

”Of course you do, Miss Weasley. You know I supported your right to make irrational choices once… which I might live to regret, because Harry thinks you suffer from adverse side effects from that Obliviating.” Ginny opened her mouth to retort angrily again when Snape continued to speak with steal in his voice. ”You don’t have to be with Harry, Miss Weasley. If you don’t love him, leave him alone. And I don’t question your right to break up a relationship, but I question the way in which it was done - the humiliation of being swapped for another without forewarning, the suddenness and the careless pretence of according it no importance…” Snape spoke with feeling. A shadow of sadness and desperation flew over Ginny’s face, and Snape narrowed his eyes and locked them with Ginny’s in a spontaneous bout of Legilimency.

He saw her flying at breakneck velocity around a Quidditch pitch on the top of a white cliff with the turquoise sea underneath her, and carelessly almost collide with one of the posts, receiving cheers and hues from the stands… He saw her dancing in a maddening tight crowd with blinking lights… But in middle of the blinking, brief images of her dead brother, Fred, on the floor in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, were insinuated… He saw her drain a glass with a greenish liquor and look up with dazed eyes… He saw her sitting hunched up with a blanket in an armchair in the corner of an untidy room staring at the sleeping figure of a fair-haired man draped in sheets on the bed… He saw her lift a pale and eerie face towards her own reflection in the mirror in a small bathroom – brief images of herself as an eleven-year-old tracing letters with a blooded finger on a wall at Hogwarts flickering before her eyes - and he saw her eighteen-year-old face in the mirror crumple with pain and anguish… Then he saw her again at her broom almost crashing against the ground as she pulled out of a dive…

Snape drew a breath as he pulled out from her mind.

”You… you are not well, Miss Weasley,” he said, frowning with concern. ”Harry is probably right - that Obliviating treatment has only put a lock on your traumas, but they are still roaring underneath. They are clearly plaguing you… You must see to it that you have an anti-treatment as soon as…” Ginny gasped and pulled away from Snape, white in the face with rage.

”How dare you…?” she hissed. ”Leave me alone, Professor. It’s none of your business! I’m just fine!”

The dance was over and Harry and Professor McGonagall were on their way over to them.

“At least be honest with him, and please consider the anti-Obliviate treatment - it’s an accepted procedure in most hospitals nowadays, thanks to the successful campaign of your brother’s girlfriend and others,” Snape whispered hurriedly to Ginny.

”I’m always honest with Harry! At least I’m always honest.” Ginny looked defiantly at Snape, ignoring the second part of his plea. Harry had reached up with them and, sensing the tension, looked worriedly from one to the other. Ginny turned resolutely to him. “Harry, I’m only here for part of the summer. After that I will return to France under the same conditions as I went this Christmas. Just so you know.” A shadow passed over Harry’s face, but he stepped forward and took her hand in his again.

“Let’s hope for a long summer then,” he said in a muffled voice, glancing apologetically at Snape.  “Let’s dance, Ginny.” He led her away, touching her gently, almost reverently.

Meanwhile, the head of the Aurors had turned up at Professor McGonagall’s and Snape’s side.

“Will you dance with me, Severus?” Mrs Steadfast asked, but Snape didn’t answer. He followed Harry and Ginny with a troubled gaze, shaking his head.

“Er?” he said absentmindedly to Mrs Steadfast who had to repeat her question. Snape looked so stern and disapproving when he led her out on the floor that Mrs Steadfast stiffened, and they didn’t dance very elegantly at all.

The End.
End Notes:
This was it for now :)


This story archived at http://www.potionsandsnitches.org/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=3793