„Expelliarmus!“

Lockhart’s wand flew from his hand, he fell, skidded over the floor and hit his head on the wall.

Some girls ran over to him to check on him, and Hermione would have, too, if Ron hadn’t caught her arm. “Don’t be silly, he’s alright.”

Harry wasn’t so sure, and perhaps it was because it was Snape who had done it, but he felt a bit bad for Lockhart.

It took the man quite a while to get up, but then he smiled at the girls who surrounded him. “No worries, I just exaggerated for the dramatics. Wanted to show you how it looks – of course I could easily have parried the spell, but you wouldn’t have learnt anything from that, would you?”

Actually, Harry thought, it would have been a lot more interesting to see how one fought such a powerful disarming spell. Now, he had just learnt that you could hurt someone with that spell, something he hadn’t known before.

“Ah, yes”, Snape drawled. “What about another demonstration?”

Just when the teachers were about to start another duel, a large owl flew into the room and sat on Snape’s arm. He took the letter from the owl’s foot, unfolded it and curtly informed them that something had come up and the duelling club was cancelled because it was in the rules that such dangerous clubs had to be supervised by two teachers.

After that, he rushed away in a flurry of billowing robes.

“Greasy git. Just like him to ruin our fun”, Ron muttered.

“I am so very sorry”, Lockhart stated “That Professor Snape prioritizes his trivial private matters over your education. Nothing could be more essential than your ability to defend yourself! Alas ...” He shook his head. “Perhaps we can continue some other time.”



Rumours flew through the room. Some said that Voldemort had come back and summoned Snape to his side. Slytherins speculated Snape must have been nominated for an international potion-making award and the message had summoned him to receive it.

Some of the older students claimed that Snape regularly got letters from France. “He must be corresponding with Nicolas Flamel”, one girl from Ravenclaw mused.

“Or he has an affair. French women, you know”, a male Hufflepuff suggested.

“Right”, one of his friends agreed. “Didn’t someone see him with a beautiful blonde a couple years ago?”

“Oh, that old chestnut. Someone misunderstood that”, an older girl whose house Harry didn’t know stated exasperatedly. “I have it right from Lucy herself, and she says it was a cute girl. Cute as in, about the age of a firstie, back then.”

“Oooch, the old dungeon bat is a child molester?” Fred, or George said with fiendish glee.

“Nonsense!” the girl retorted. “Get your mind out of the gutter, she’s probably his daughter from a failed marriage or something.”

“As if anyone would marry the greasy git in the first place!” Ron scoffed. “I tell you, there’s something fishy going on there. Love potion or something.”



Whatever the reason, Snape was gone and didn’t return until several days later, in a grumpier mood than ever.

Not that anyone else was cheerful. The petrification of several students made everyone nervous.

Hermione’s genius plan for getting the truth out of Malfoy worked in that Malfoy didn’t notice they were impersonating his friends, but Hermione’s Christmas holidays were completely ruined as she had to spend them as a cat-human-hybrid.

By February, pretty much everyone was grumpy.

Except for Lockhart, who was as cheerful as ever.

When Harry left the common room on Valentine’s Day, the whole castle was decorated. Heart-shaped confetti rained from the ceilings. Ugly dwarves distributed love letters.

It was no secret Lockhart must be responsible, as none of the other teachers would ever have tolerated such cheesiness.

Harry had just escaped the one who had delivered a sung message by – probably – Ginny, when another dwarf attacked.

This one only gave him a letter and a box of chocolates, thankfully.

The chocolates smelled delicious, so Harry took one and, chewing on it, read the letter. It was lovely.

This poem likened his eyes to emeralds and his hair to ebony. Now that was what he called poetry!

Harry re-read it several times during breakfast, eating all the chocolates.

When he looked up to the high table, it struck him, for the first time, how very handsome Professor Lockhart was.

Could the letter be from ... him? Such poetry must be from a published author, it only made sense.

But he dared not hope. Better not to embarrass himself if he was wrong.

That afternoon, he caught himself drawing little hearts around Lockhart’s lessons in his timetable.

“He’s so handsoome”, he whispered to Hermione when he was sure they couldn’t be overheard.

“Who?”

“Professor Lockhart, of course.” Could he dare call him Gilderoy in his head? If the letter was by him ...

“Oh. Yeah, he is, isn’t he?”

“Do you think he could have sent me a letter? I got one with a beautiful poem ...”

Hermione frowned. “His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad? That one?”

“No! Of course not! That was embarrassing. I mean ...” He took the letter from where he was carrying it close to his heart. “This.”

She read it. “That could have been written by an adult. But I don’t think it is by him. I mean, that wouldn’t be right.”

“What? You are just jealous! You want him for yourself!”

Hermione’s frown deepened, and Harry was getting worried she might attack him and scratch his eyes out, when her features suddenly softened. “Not at all. Listen Harry, I’m sorry I made you think I have a crush on Lockhart. It’s not true. You can have him all to yourself.”

That sounded great! It would have made him really sad to lose Hermione as a friend. “So why did you draw hearts around his lessons, then?”

“Oh, well ...” Hermione shrugged, then hid her face with her hands. “Promise you won’t tell Ron?”

“I don’t like keeping secrets from him, but I guess I will have to. I don’t think he would understand my love for Gilderoy.”

“Right. Harry, I just wanted to distract Ron and you, so you wouldn’t notice who I really have a crush on.”

“Who is it?”

“Well, it is ...” Hermione fidgeted with her quill, visibly embarrassed. “Professor Snape.”

Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, Harry thought he should probably be disgusted. But he wasn’t – he was delighted they weren’t rivals in love after all. “But why? He’s always nasty!”

“Oh, well, he is a genius in potions. I just can’t help but admire him. Listen, Harry, can I ask you for a favour?”

“Sure! What do you need?”

“You know Professor Snape. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone outside lessons. I’m sure he would send me away if I came to his office for a chat. So I thought ... perhaps, if we told him we need his help with something ...”

“But he hates me! He would never help me with anything!”

“I know. I think we might have a chance if it was something embarrassing. He would like to gloat over it ... and something potions related, so he can’t send us to someone else.”

Harry pondered her suggestion. “We tell him I have a boil in an embarrassing place and ask for a cure for boils potion? But he would just tell us to brew it ourselves.”

“I know. It must be something more complicated. About a potion we haven’t had yet. There’s some very complex potions in the books for the upper years.” Hermione frowned in concentration. “I know it is a lot to ask ... I would help you with your crush, too, in return ...”

“That’s what friends are for. Snape hates me anyway.” Harry was so happy, with his letter and the hope it might be from Gilderoy, he would gladly embarrass himself a little to help Hermione be just as happy.

“Well ... if you could, say, pretend you got dosed with a love potion ... that’s too complex for me to brew a cure for and he could look down on you and show off his knowledge ... he would like that.”

“He hates love potions, too. Did you see how he looked at Gi- Professor Lockhart when he suggested we could brew love potions for Valentine’s Day?”

“Yes, that’s why I thought of it. He would be delighted to get to neutralize a love potion.”

Harry nodded. “I’m just not sure I am that good an actor.”

“Well ...” Hermione said slowly. “I thought ... I am not sure if you want to do that, but ... if we told him you are in love with Professor Lockhart ... you wouldn’t have to pretend anything, and I could claim I think someone gave you love potion as a prank ...”

“But that’s not love potion! He’s just really handsome. And a hero. And so good at poetry ... if the letter is from him, anyway.”

“I know, Harry”, Hermione said, exasperated. “But Professor Snape has to believe it is! And perhaps he will mention it to Professor Lockhart, and you won’t have to tell him yourself.”

“Oh! That’s genius!” Harry was much too shy to confess his love, but this way, it would be easy. And if it turned out Gilderoy didn’t like him back, he could always claim it had just been a love potion after all. Zero risk! “Let’s go!”

“Wait a moment – I want to write a letter I can give Professor Snape. He’s so reserved, I’m not sure he will open up just because he can show off his skill, and I only have this one chance ... Ron would kill me if he knew.”

“Yeah, probably.” Ron was a bit insensitive at times, and he wouldn’t understand Hermione’s feelings. Harry did. Sort of. Hermione was a genius, it made sense she would like someone who was a genius, too, even if he was also a slimy git.

Just like Harry liked someone who was also a celebrity. It was just easier if someone could really understand you. Yes. It totally made sense.

When Hermione emerged from the girls' dorm, letter in hand, it was close to curfew, but Harry didn’t mind – if Hermione’s plan worked, Snape would be too distracted by her to take points from them. And if he gave them detention, well, that was just what Hermione wanted, more time to spend with her love, and Harry was used to scrubbing cauldrons and the like, it was a small price to pay to help a friend.

They told Ron they were going to the library, and as they had hoped, he opted to stay behind.

Hermione knocked at Snape’s office door. His answer sounded grumpy, even though he couldn’t know who it was.

He probably didn’t really dislike Hermione, just disliked people in general, Harry mused. Likely, Snape would make an exception for Hermione once he realized how intelligent she was.

Everything seemed so lovely and hopeful. Being in love was a hell of a drug!

“Professor, we need your help!”, Hermione blurted out before Snape could say anything.

She handed him the letter. “I am sorry to disturb you, but it is really important!”

Snape raised and eyebrow and unfolded the letter. “Please don’t read this aloud”, he read. “Miss Granger, if you don’t want Potter to know it, I suggest to not put it in writing.”

“I – I’m sorry, sir, I just ...” Hermione hid her face behind her bushy mane. “You can read the letter later, the thing is that Harry has been dosed with a love potion and I can’t brew an antidote yet.”

“Has he, now? Was he actually stupid enough to drink something handed to him by one of his many fans?”

“No!” Harry shouted. “I’m not stupid! I didn’t - “ Then he remembered their plan. “Uh ...”

“He ate an entire box of chocolates he got from an anonymous admirer. The love potion could have been in it, couldn’t it, sir?”

Snape frowned. “Yes, indeed. And who is the target of his magically induced affections?”

Harry couldn’t bring himself to say it – it was just too private.

“Professor Lockhart, sir.”

Snape looked thunderous. “Lockhart? Is that so? Potter?”

Harry nodded. It would be cowardly to not go through with it. Eventually he would have to tell Gilderoy, and this was the easiest way to do so.

Snape read the letter, but it didn’t make him any happier. At least it didn’t seem to make him unhappier, either, so Harry hoped Hermione still had a chance.

“I will prepare the antidote. Wait here, touch nothing.” Snape touched one of his ingredient jars, and the whole wall slid to the side and revealed a hidden door that must lead to his laboratory.

“Sorry, that didn’t go so well”, Harry whispered when Snape closed the door behind him. “He didn’t even ask you to assist him.”

“Don’t worry. I know I have to be patient.”

Harry nodded in understanding. Of course she would do anything for her love. Even wait ten years or so for him to open up a bit.

He would do anything for Gilderoy. Anything at all.

“When did you realize you had a crush on Professor Lockhart?”, Hermione asked after a while.

“After reading his letter – I mean, the letter I hope is by him.” Was that right? “I noticed how handsome he is for the first time today, but ... no, I am not the kind of person to fall in love all of a sudden, am I? It must have been when he let Snape defeat him, just to show us how it worked. That was so brave of him! And so humble! Anyone else would have really kicked Snape’s ass, just because.” Harry remembered what Hermione had told him and amended: “Well, you know. Most people. Snape isn’t really that popular.”

“I know.”

It was selfish to just talk about his feelings, wasn’t it? “When did you realize you were in love with Snape?”

“Oh, I ...” Hermione avoided his gaze. “Uh. He was very impressive at the duelling club, wasn’t he? So powerful ... um ... and when people talked about him having an affair I just ... wondered ...” She shrugged. “It must have started earlier, right? Perhaps ... in first year, after you told us he actually tried to save you while Quirrell was manipulating your broom?”

Harry nodded. He had almost forgotten about that. “Yeah, that was decent of him.” A good reason for Hermione to fall in love with the man, he supposed.

“The potions riddle was so clever, too ...”

“Do you think he actually has an affair?” He wanted Hermione to be happy. If Snape was in love with a beautiful blonde French woman ...

“He wouldn’t have left all of a sudden because of a love letter”, Hermione said. “No, that’s not like him. It is much more likely he won an award. He wouldn’t have told anyone, he’s so humble.”

They fell silent when Snape returned.

He handed Harry a potion. “Drink. If your feelings are genuine, it will have no effect.”

That meant he would have to decide right after drinking it whether to pretend ... well. He didn’t really want Snape to know ... perhaps he could just leave without saying anything after drinking it? Yes, that would be best. Just run out of the door, regardless of what Snape said. Would give Hermione some alone time with the man.

He downed the potion, handed the phial it had been in back to Snape and ...

What? What had he done? Had he actually told Hermione he was in love with Lockhart?

“Now, Potter, how do you feel? Still enamoured with an imbecilic teacher who is twenty years your senior?”

“No! Not at all! I can’t believe ... someone drugged me, Hermione! I mean, someone really drugged me!”

“We all understand that, Potter. Now do tell me exactly what you ate. Chocolates, as Miss Granger said?”

“Yes, sir. Must have been the chocolates.” Snape was being helpful, even though he was nasty. Hermione had a point ... wait, what? Hermione was in love with ... ewww. Snape being a greasy git was one thing, but a teacher! Twenty years older than her!

“Given to you by whom?”

“One of those dwarves Lockhart hired.”

“Along with a letter. Harry, do you have the letter?”

Embarrassed, Harry fumbled the letter out of its hiding place under his Weasley jumper. “Do you really think that’s necessary, Hermione?”

“The handwriting, Harry. Professor Snape might recognize it.”

Reluctantly, Harry handed it over. “I really didn’t ask for it, sir.”

Snape read the letter, thankfully without commenting on the poem. “Hm. That is not any student’s handwriting.” He cleared his throat. “Potter. Has Lockhart ever ... ah .. acted ... inappropriately towards you?”

Harry frowned. “I am not sure I understand?”

“Did he do things that made you ... uncomfortable?”

Snape made Harry’s life hell, and he had the gall to ask if Lockhart made him uncomfortable?

“He put an arm around Harry when Colin wanted a photo”, Hermione said, her voice quivering. “But I thought it was more, like, paternal, wasn’t it Harry? Like, fatherly?”

“How would I know, I don’t have a father!” But that wasn’t what they were talking of. What were they talking of? “It felt icky, though. If that was fatherly, having a father isn’t what it’s made up to be.”

“Fathers who are not acting fatherly are more common than you would think, Potter”, Snape drawled. “Now, it appears I ought to inform the headmaster. Miss Granger, you do not happen to have kept any remnants of that box of chocolates?”

To Harry’s amazement, Hermione reached into her robe pocket and pulled out the handkerchief she had lent him to wipe his mouth. He hadn’t even paid attention at the time, just gone along with it when she told him he had chocolate smeared around his mouth.

“It’s not much, sir, but I was worried Harry might attack me if I asked him to give me a piece of chocolate. He was very possessive.”

Snape took the handkerchief. “I will see if I can extract something from it. Are you willing to repeat your report of what happened to the headmaster, Miss Granger?”

“Of course, sir.”

“You, Potter?”

It was very embarrassing, but on the other hand, Snape already knew, and Dumbledore would likely be nicer about it. “Yes. Sir.”

Snape nodded, threw some floo powder into the fire in his office and called out for Dumbledore.

Moments later, the headmaster stepped out of the fire, wiping some nonexistend ashes off his purple robe. “Good evening”, he said cheerfully. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this invitation, Severus?”

“You told me you were hoping to expose Lockhart as a fraud. I am afraid we will have to expose him as something much worse.”

Dumbledore’s face sobered, and suddenly, he looked a lot more dangerous than the kind old man Harry remembered from when they got caught with the petrified Mrs. Norris.

“Tell him, Miss Granger. The whole story, if you please.”

Hermione had paled. “I – I don’t think ... oh, I am so sorry, perhaps I am mistaken.” Her voice quivered. “It is just, you see, professor, Harry got a letter and a box of chocolates from one of those dwarves Professor Lockhart hired. He ate the chocolates, and ever since ... no, actually, he was strange after eating the first piece. Normally, he offers Ron and me a piece, too, when he’s eating sweets - ”

“I’m sorry”, Harry mumbled. “I just didn’t think - ”

“But with those, he looked like he might jinx us if we even just asked for one. And he ate all of them at once, which isn’t like him, either. He read the letter several times and didn’t talk to us, until ...” Hermione swallowed, then continued in a more stable voice. “Just now, when we were doing our homework, I noticed he was drawing hearts around Professor Lockhart’s lessons on his timetable - ”

“You do that, too!”

Hermione glared at him. “And then he confided in me that he thought Lockhart was so handsome. I just knew it must be a love potion – he made fun of me for – um, for admiring Lockhart before, and all of a sudden he was totally ... well, infatuated with him. I, uh, told him a bunch of lies I rather wouldn’t repeat in front of Professor Snape, but I can tell you later, sir. Anyway, I got him to come here and let me ask for an antidote.”

Oh thank the gods! So that stuff about having a crush on Snape was all lies?

“Do you really think it was Professor Lockhart who sent him the chocolates, sir?” Hermione asked Snape, her lip quivering as though she was about to cry. “It couldn’t – couldn’t just have been a prank by some girl he made fun of for having a crush?”

“I do think I recognize the handwriting.” Snape handed the letter with the poem over to Dumbledore. “Action must be taken immediately. You do recall, headmaster, that Gilderoy was oddly keen on supervising Potter’s detention?”

“You were, too”, Harry grumbled. The hours spent pickling toads stuck in his memory as some of the most unpleasant hours he had ever had in Hogwarts.

“Potter, tell the headmaster about the time Lockhart put an arm around you.”

“There’s not much to tell, okay? Colin was trying to get a photo of me, and before I could get away, Lockhart snatched me and gripped my shoulder so hard I couldn’t get away. And, he, uh ...” Was he misremembering? He must be, surely, this couldn’t have happened? “He, uh, stroked my neck before he let go.”

“See? This man must be removed from the school, immediately! You cannot wait until he does something even worse!”

Dumbledore stroked his beard. “Yes, Severus, you do have a point, but there is no solid proof of anything ...”

“We have the testimonies of those children, and I will be able to prove that the chocolate given to Potter contained a love potion – probably amortentia, by Miss Granger’s description. What more do you need?”

“I agree with you, and I will take steps to keep the students safe, but you have to understand, Severus, such crimes are notoriously hard to prove ...”

Snape gave him a withering glare. “Only because you don’t accept witness testimonies as proof.”

“The wizengamot does not accept testimonies. Or memories. Or confessions under veritaserum. Trust me, Severus, I tried to expose him as a fraud, and even that was impossible without solid proof.” Dumbledore sighed. “Harry, Hermione, I think it is high time for you to retire to your common room.”

“I will escort them there”, Snape said at once. “Good evening, headmaster.”

He sounded rather angry with Dumbledore, but Harry wasn’t sure why. He was, in fact, not sure why there was talk about a crime at all.

Okay, so Lockhart was a fraud – he had figured that out early on - and had played a nasty prank on Harry, but was that illegal?

“You may tell your friends that I caught you out after curfew”, Snape stated as he led them out of the dungeons, robes billowing behind him. “And you will serve detention with me at the exact point in time when Lockhart tries to get you alone. Any of you. You will tell him that you have to hurry as you are late for your detention with me.”

“Even if it is during lessons, sir?”

“He doesn’t know my schedule, and if he happens to know I am teaching at that very moment, tell him that’s what I told you and that I might require a subject to test potions on.”

“Thank you, sir”, Hermione said, just as they arrived at the fat lady’s portrait. “We will.”

Confused, Harry followed her into the common room.

“Nice visit to the library?”, Ron asked, having just finished a game of exploding snap with Fred and George.

“Yes, actually”, Hermione said, though she did not sound at all cheerful. “We found out something about Professor Lockhart. Ron, this is important. You can’t ever be alone with him. If he tries to get you to stay after class or anything, tell him you have detention with Professor Snape.”

“What? No! If I tell anyone I have detention with Snape, he will make it come true!”

“Trust me, Ron, you will prefer detention with Snape to what Lockhart might do to you.”

“What’s that all about? I thought you liked the idiot?”

“I used to”, Hermione said, grimacing. “But – oh, Ron, just be careful. Remember Quirrell? We thought he was harmless, too.”

She followed Harry to the boys’ dorm, which was still empty. “Do you think we should warn anyone else? I would, but I don’t think the girls would listen – he is very handsome.” She sighed.

Harry stared at her. “Wait, didn’t you say you didn’t have a crush on him?”

“That was just to get you to go to Professor Snape with me. I had a crush on him alright. But after what he has done – oh Harry, I still can’t believe it.”

“What’s the problem? That was a nasty prank, sure, but why does Snape think they can kick him out of the school for it? Snape has done worse!”

Hermione stared at him, utterly confused. “But Harry – don’t you understand? If you had gone to Lockhart’s office – can’t you imagine what he might have wanted to do to you?”

“I dunno? Laugh at me?”

“Well, I can’t ... Harry, what if Professor Snape had given me a love potion. Wouldn’t you be worried at all?”

“Of course I’d be! That would be gross. He might even try to kiss you.” Harry grimaced. “Wait – you think ... ewww.”

“Finally you get it. Yes, exactly. That is what Lockhart would have done if I hadn’t done something about it.”

“But I’m a boy! I mean, I didn’t think about it when I was drugged, only thought Ron wouldn’t like it, but ... really, why would he ... do you think he’s queer?” Lockhart was kinda vain, but to be fair, Dumbledore also dressed extravagantly, it just seemed to be a wizard thing ...

“Queer is a slur, please don’t use it. And no, I don’t think he is gay, exactly. Men who molest children often don’t care what the sex of the child is”, Hermione lectured. “They just want an easy victim. We can’t expect that girls will be safe.”

“You think he’s really dangerous? Not just a bit icky?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes, Harry. He drugged you! What the heck is wrong with you? Do you care about your own safety so little?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just that I had much worse stuff happen to me.”

“Worse?”

“There was the time Dudley tricked me into drinking juice he’d put rat poison into – I had to throw up and my nose bled for days after.”

Hermione stared at him. “And your aunt and uncle didn’t do anything about that?”

“They were probably proud of how clever their little Duddikins was.” He wasn’t sure they had known – he certainly hadn’t told them. They never punished Dudley, anyways.

“Hm.” Hermione frowned. “I have a cousin who tricked me into eating meat when I was a vegetarian.”

“You were a vegetarian?”

“Only when I was seven. Stopped when I turned nine, because I read they kill animals for milk and eggs, too, so it seemed rather pointless. And of course, once I got my Hogwarts letter .... no idea what I’d do in potions if I still was a vegetarian.” She shrugged. “Must be terrible to actually live with such a cousin. What else does he do?”

Harry didn’t want to tell her about how Dudley tormented him every day – it was rather embarrassing that Harry let him – but there were plenty stories about Dudley’s horrid behaviour that didn’t feature Harry as the victim.

“His eleventh birthday, we went to the zoo and he behaved like an ass. You know, knocking on the glass on the reptile’s terrariums because they weren’t moving and he found them boring, that sort of thing.”

“Sounds like my cousin.” Hermione grimaced sympathetically.

“Yeah. It all turned out pretty okay, because I talked to a snake and accidentally freed it. That is, I wanted to free it, somehow, because it seemed unhappy, but I didn’t really mean to make the glass vanish. Dudley was in such a panic! The snake didn’t even care about him, just said goodbye to me and how it looked forward to going to Brazil. I got locked in my cupboard for weeks for that, but it was totally worth it.”

Hermione frowned. “Your cupboard?”

Oh, shit. “That’s what they called my old room. It was a bit small.”

“And you talked to a snake?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Harry, that’s a really rare ability. And I wouldn’t tell anyone about that, if I were you. Salazar Slytherin was a parselmouth, that is, someone who could talk to snakes. It is considered a sign someone is a dark wizard.”

“But that’s nonsense. The snake was really nice, not at all dark or anything.”

“I know, Harry. It is all prejudices, but you have to be careful.”

The next day, they were told they weren’t allowed to go anywhere on their own, allegedly due to the monster, but Harry was pretty sure it was actually something Dumbledore was doing because of Lockhart – because Lockhart never accompanied them to the next lesson.

Dumbledore always mysteriously appeared to take over that duty.

The teachers took turns to escort groups of students to the library on some days, and Harry discovered, to his horror, that Snape had the password for Gryffindor tower.

Hermione didn’t seem bothered by it – she even talked to Snape when they were in the library, but so quietly Harry couldn’t overhear what she said.

When he asked her later, she claimed she had just discussed a theory she had on Slytherins monster with him.

“Are you sure you don’t have a crush on him?”

“Yes, pretty sure. Though I guess he would have been a better choice than Lockhart”, she shot back, annoyed. “He doesn’t send students love poems.”

“Wait, why would you want to have a crush on someone you don’t have a chance with?”

Hermione sighed. “See, I thought I wanted a chance with Lockhart, but actually, I dreamed about growing up and him noticing how pretty I am – once I grow up. We are children! I only realized how creepy it is when he sent you that letter. He didn’t send that letter to some imagined adult version of you, Harry, he sent it to a twelve year old!”

She was right, that was a bit weird, now that she mentioned it. Harry suspected that he didn’t really know what was normal. His childhood hadn’t exactly been normal, after all.
He didn’t like it when Lockhart touched him, but he also didn’t like it when Uncle Vernon grabbed his shirt and shook him, and he had gotten used to the latter. It was just one of those things you had to deal with.

Now that Hermione had mentioned it, though, Harry found Ginny’s valentine much nicer. Sure, she wasn’t exactly a poet, but it was pretty obvious that she really thought he was great.

With Lockhart ... why would an adult man think a boy of twelve was the best thing since sliced bread?

Normal adults like Mrs. Weasley weren’t so very impressed by this Boy-Who-Lived thing. Harry remembered how she had scolded Ginny for staring at him. She’d treated him just like a lost little boy, which he had been.

He had grown up a lot since then, but Hermione was right, he still was a child.

Lockhart was probably lying. And even if he wasn’t ... Hermione was right, it was a bit creepy.

The Easter holidays approached, and to Harry’s horror, Dumbledore announced that the school would be closed over the holidays, as to protect students from Slytherin’s monster at least during that time.

Before he could panic in earnest, though, Hermione invited him to spend the holidays with her family.

“Are you sure? Your parents don’t even really know me.” Somehow, what with how nice Mrs. Weasley had been that day at King’s Cross, he had been confident that she would like him to visit.

Hermione’s parents, though ...

“They did meet you”, she reminded him. “And they insisted I invite you. Ron, too, but they’d understand if his parents want him at home.”

Not only did the Weasleys want their children to come home, they, too, wanted to invite Harry.

“It’s okay, though”, Ron said when Harry explained he’d already been invited by Hermione and accepted the invitation. “They won’t mind that you can’t come. Just were worried about you having to stay with your relatives. And we had you over in the summer, I figure it’s fair that you stay with Hermione now.”



The Grangers picked them up at the train station, and only when Harry and his luggage were all in the car already did they mention they wouldn’t stay at their home for long. “We are going to France”, Mrs. Granger announced as she started the car. “Have you been to France, Harry?”

“Um, no.” And, what was more, he wasn’t sure he could. “Won’t I need a passport or something?” The Dursleys had never taken him abroad, so he wouldn’t know, but he was pretty sure he had heard something about documents being needed to get over the border.

“Hogwarts sent us the documents. According to the headmaster, your aunt and uncle are very pleased you are visiting with a friend.” Mrs. Granger didn’t seem to buy that, though. “Everything seems to be in order.”

Harry was sure there must be magic involved. Surely it took ages to apply for such a document – and the Dursleys had never applied for a passport for him or anything. And they’d never voluntarily agree to let him stay with a friend, let alone travel to France.

The very thought he was getting a proper holiday would probably make their heads explode or something.

He grinned at the mental image.

Then, reality caught up with him again. “I don’t want to impose on you ...” Staying with the Weasleys while they were at home was one thing, but travelling was expensive. And they probably wanted to spend time with Hermione without some boy they didn’t know awkwardly standing around ...

“We wouldn’t have asked Hermione to invite you if we didn’t want you to come”, Mr. Granger said firmly. “She told us a lot about you. How was school so far?”

“Pretty okay, I guess.”

“Which subject do you like best?”

“I’m not sure.” He found DADA most interesting in theory, but every teacher they’d had had managed to make it boring. “Transfiguration, I guess.”

“Hermione says you are good at flying with a broomstick.”

“Oh, right. That’s not really a subject, though. It doesn’t really matter what grades you get.” Harry felt a little awkward. It was easier to talk to Mrs. and Mr. Weasley, probably because they had been to Hogwarts, too. Or because they didn’t just make small talk – Mr. Weasley’s fascination with muggle object made for plenty conversation topics. “There’s subjects I would like if the teachers were different”, he added.

“So Professor Snape is really as nasty as Hermione tells us?”

“Probably worse”, Harry blurted out. “I mean, Hermione is very respectful to teachers. He picks on her for knowing things, it’s ridiculous.”

“He also picks on you, doesn’t he?”, Mr. Granger probed.

“Yeah, but I am not that good at potions, so at least he has reasons. He’s totally unfair to Hermione.”



When Mrs. Granger parked the car in front of a very nice detached house, it dawned on Harry that both Granger parents being dentists meant they had some money.

It was weird, he mused as he got out of the car, because the car itself wasn’t all that big, or new.

The house wasn’t very large, and the garden, for all that it was larger, wasn’t as immaculate as that of the Dursleys – but then, Harry thought bitterly, the Grangers didn’t have an unwanted nephew living with them whom they could make do the work for free.

“I’ll show you the guest room”, Hermione announced. “We can take your luggage up later.”

The guest room was a very large, very bright room with windows that went out to the garden. It was the most anonymous room Harry had ever stayed in – decorated in dark wood and cowslip yellow, curtains matching the bedclothes – and he almost didn’t dare put Hedwig’s cage down on the immaculate desk.

Hermione opened a window. “You can let Hedwig out, there’s plenty mice in the garden, they’re eating all the flower bulbs, dad complains about it every year.”

As if she had understood her, Hedwig gave a delighted hoot and as soon as Harry opened a cage, she went out through the window, swooping down on some unsuspecting small rodent.

The back garden was even wilder than the front garden, with plenty old trees and wildflowers growing in what might once have been intended as lawn.



“My room is right next door”, Hermione told him. “Come, I’ll show you.”

At the sight of her room, Harry couldn’t suppress a wide grin. It looked exactly as he had imagined it – every wall was covered in bookshelves.

The only non-book decoration was a large Gryffindor flag. When he stepped closer, he saw the crest was done in cross-stitch. “Where’d you buy that?” He never had seen anything the like.

“Made it myself.”

“That must have taken you an eternity!”

She smiled proudly. “I needed something to do over the summer, to keep me busy and distracted. I had to ask my parents to lock away my wand so I wouldn’t get tempted.”

“I didn’t have to ask the Dursleys to do that.” And he also hadn’t needed to find anything to do, they did that, too. And he didn’t have a cool flag to show for it.

Hermione grimaced. “The more you tell me about them, the less I like them. You should spend summer here, too, if Ron doesn’t invite you – or you could just spend half with him and half with us.”

“Are you sure your parents don’t mind?”

“Very sure – they’re delighted I found friends at school.”

Suddenly it hit Harry – Hermione hadn’t ever mentioned any muggle friends. She must have been more lonely that he’d thought. He’d seen her being a bit of a loner in Hogwarts during first year, but they had all been new to the school.

Did the muggle children hate her for being a bit of a know-it-all, too? She wasn’t that bad, really. And unlike Harry, she didn’t have a bully follow her around who made it his mission to beat up everyone who wanted to be friends with her.

Or at least Harry hoped so.



Hermione didn’t dwell on it. She showed him the house, helped him carry his things upstairs, and, being Hermione, suggested they do their homework together.


When, two days later, they sat in the car, packed like sardines because the Grangers were apparently used to only taking one child and much of the space was taken up by luggage and a giant basket of food between them on the backseat, Harry was quite glad Hermione had made him do his homework.

Now, he could look forward to the rest of the holidays without worrying about it.



They took the ferry to Calais, and walking around aboard the ship, Harry couldn’t wipe the big grin off his face.

A ship! He was on a ship, and under him was the sea! Life was great.

Holidays at Hogwarts had been nice, but there’d still been the risk of meeting Snape in the corridors.

Here, he was blessedly free of Dursleys and Snape, something he’d only experienced once before, in his weeks at the Burrow.

Wait – was that Snape? Harry turned, but then realized he must be mistaken.

Snape would never stoop so low as to travel with a muggle ship.

He chuckled.

“What are you thinking of?”, Hermione asked.

“Oh, I just thought I’d seen Snape. I didn’t know I was so paranoid about him – not like he could take any points when we’re not at Hogwarts, anyway.”

“And you even did your homework”, Hermione said, laughing. “There’s nothing he could punish you for.”

The Grangers had booked a cabin on the ferry, or actually, they’d booked two. Harry shared with Hermione.

“Your parents don’t mind you sharing rooms with a boy?”, he asked when he turned his back so Hermione could get into her pyjamas.

“They know we’re just friends. And they aren’t very strict, anyway. I’m always allowed to do everything I want, as long as I ask beforehand.”

Harry suppressed a chuckle. What could they do? Tell Hermione she wasn’t allowed to go to the library?

The most reckless thing he had seen her do so far was accept a chocolate frog from him, even though she wasn’t allowed sweets before lunch. And she had dutifully brushed her teeth afterwards.

Compared to Dudley who had, among other things, played with petrol and matches, and even tried to burn one of Mrs. Figg’s cats (Harry had been able to save the cat), accepted – and actually smoked - cigarettes from the older kids who met on the playground in the evenings, and ruined a neighbour’s car by trying to jump over it with his bicycle and a ramp, all without being punished even the tiniest bit ...

Hermione just was too sensible to want to do anything like that – she always lectured others about being careful with fire, would never harm an animal, had no doubt paid attention when they’d learnt in school that smoking led to lung cancer, and was so worried about accidents she hovered close to the ground when Harry persuaded to try out his Nimbus 2000 – an experiment her parents had eagerly approved of and watched with fascination.

The only way to be strict with her was to make absolutely nonsensical rules and then punish her for not following them, like Snape did.

Granted, “no talking unless asked” was not in itself a nonsensical rule, but every teacher but Snape was sensible enough to just pick Hermione when she was the only one who knew the answer, and when she wasn’t provoked by someone ignoring her, she didn’t talk out of turn, so it never came up.

So. Still Snape's fault.

They left the ferry in the morning, and after a couple more hours in the car arrived at their hotel.

Harry had only ever stayed at a hotel once before, the aptly named Railview Hotel, and was stunned by how luxurious the French hotel was.

Hermione bemoaned the fact that the hotel’s so-called library was just a collection of books left behind by guests, which made for rather low quality.

“You brought tons of books”, Harry reminded her, this having been the primary reason why the car was so full. “Let’s go try the pool.”

“I can’t swim”, Hermione admitted.

“Me neither”, Harry said cheerfully, heartened by the fact he wasn’t the only one with that problem. “We can stay in the shallow area.” The Grangers had bought him swimming trunks, resistance had been futile – the argument that he had to stay with them for safety reasons and therefore needed appropriate clothes wherever they went, had convinced him.

Most of the clothes that now travelled with him were castoffs of Hermione’s nasty cousin who was a lot slimmer than Dudley and didn’t ruin his clothes half as much before growing out of them. Harry hadn’t asked why they had so many castoffs of that boy lying around, but suspected most of them had actually been worn by Hermione inbetween, or intended for her once she grew into them. He had never seen her in anything that would have looked out of place on a boy – except for her swimsuit, of course.

The pool was very nice, and it had a non-swimmer area where Hermione could demonstrate some of the movements she had learnt in her swimming lessons, with her feet firmly planted on the ground.

Harry tried them out and thought swimming might actually be pretty easy – like with flying, Hermione probably just was too cautious to actually do it, even though she knew the theory perfectly well.

In the evening, Harry was so tired he fell asleep in the nice hotel bed without even thinking about how much it must have cost the Grangers to take him on this holiday.




The next day Harry got up before Hermione, who probably had wasted half the night re-reading some of her schoolbooks.

He found the way to the breakfast buffet without problems, and saw Mr. Granger at one of the tables.

Perfect.

Since the breakfast was included in the price and didn’t cost extra, Harry didn’t feel bad about heaping a bit of everything on his plate, though he still made sure to not take more than he could actually eat.

Mr. Granger greeted him. “Is Hermione up yet?”, he asked when Harry had sat down.

“No – I think she didn’t get much sleep before midnight, she was too enchanted by her herbology book – pun not intended.”

Hermione’s father chuckled. “Typical. I must say, I am grateful that you got her to go swimming. It is very hard to get her to do anything but reading – but then, I am probably not the best role model when it comes to that.” And, as if to emphasize his point, he folded up the newspaper he had been reading.

Harry hid a grin. It was true, the Grangers were a family of book addicts, though Hermione seemed to be the ‘worst’. Perhaps she would grow out of it a bit.

“I hope today won’t be too boring for you”, Mr. Granger stated. “We are going to Paris, and will probably spend all day at the Louvre. I understand it is customary to take children to Disneyland, but Hermione tends to enjoy museums more.”

“That’s perfectly alright, sir.” After eleven years with the Dursleys, he considered his holidays well spent if Dudley wasn’t around to bully him. Add Mrs. Figg actually feeding him something else than cabbage and he was ecstatic. “I haven’t been to many museums, but I think I might like them.”

The Dursleys considered museums a waste of time, and Harry figured that something the Dursleys disliked couldn’t be half bad.


And he did like it, sort of. Hermione wasn’t so enamoured with paintings as she was with books, and so they moved through the museum at a reasonable pace.

When Hermione spent somewhat more time looking at the painting of an astronomer, Harry didn’t feel bored – he actually had an opinion on this. “Wish we had such nice celestial globes in Hogwarts”, he said.

“Or the book - Institutiones Astronomicae Geographicae”, Hermione agreed. “I heard of it, it’s - ”

“Oh – you go to Hogwarts?”

They turned around. Behind them was a blonde girl, perhaps a few years older than them. She blushed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I just never met anyone from Hogwarts!”

Hermione and Harry exchanged glances. “What school do you go to, then?”, Hermione asked cautiously.

“Why, Beauxbatons, of course!”

Harry had no idea what Beauxbatons was, but Hermione nodded. “Obviously. Just had to make sure you are ... that you, too, get astronomy lessons.”

The girl beamed. “Of course. Better safe than sorry.”

“How is Beauxbatons? It must be bigger than Hogwarts. And don’t many new students have problems with the language?” Hermione asked without breathing inbetween.

“It is very large, and there are classes in different languages for first year”, their new acquaintance explained while they moved, by unspoken agreement, towards an area with fewer people in it. “I am not sure how much larger than Hogwarts it is, but I am sure we have a larger headmistress.”

“Larger?”

The blonde girl chuckled. “Madame Maxime denies it whenever the rumour comes up, but I am pretty sure she is ...” She interrupted herself. “Well, she is about as tall as the Hogwarts groundskeeper, I think.”

“That’s much taller than Dumbledore”, Harry agreed. “Our headmaster.”

“I know. I know everything about Hogwarts.”

“And your English is very good”, Hermione remarked. “So, where are you from?”

“I actually grew up in France”, the girl explained. “But I have British roots. My name is Rose Evans, by the way.”

“I’m Hermione Granger and that is Harry Potter”, Hermione introduced them.

Afterwards, Hermione got back to their previous topic of conversation: “So your parents told you a lot about Hogwarts?”

Rose shook her head. “No – I – I live with foster parents.”

“Are they nice?”, Harry asked.

“Very nice”, Rose stated, and though she smiled and didn’t seem to be lying, Harry thought it didn’t explain why she had gotten so nervous about it.

“I live with my aunt and uncle”, he explained. “They are ... well, they think I’m a burden, that’s why I asked. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry, that must be awful.” The compassion in her green eyes was genuine, but still made Harry a bit uncomfortable.

“It’s okay, I only have to spend the summers with them now that I go to Hogwarts.”

“My parents invited Harry to come to France with us”, Hermione explained. “Hogwarts has been closed for the holidays because some ... architecture problem and he didn’t want to stay with his aunt and uncle.”

Calling the chamber of secrets an architecture problem was very creative, and fortunately, Rose didn’t ask any questions about it.

“How are your teachers at Hogwarts?”, she asked instead. “Is it true Gilderoy Lockhart is the teacher for Defense?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but don’t get too excited about it. He’s a fraud. Can’t even deal with pix- uh ... common garden pests.”

“I know.” Rose sighed. “He used to be my favourite author, but last year I brewed an ... concoction to change my hair colour according to the instructions in his book on haircare and almost got myself killed. My guardian had to appar- I mean, take a plane all the way from Scotland.”

Hermione frowned. “And you followed the recipe to the letter? I never tried anything from the books, but I would have expected they’d at least be, well, safe.”

Rose nodded. “I’m very good at po- at chemistry. My guardian checked the recipe, too. It’s a mistake in the book.”

“That shouldn’t be legal!” The fact that a book could be wrong seemed to shock Hermione to her core. “Why did you want to change your hair colour, anyway? Lots of girls dye their hair to look like you.”

“I just wanted to see how I’d look with black hair.” Rose shrugged. “It was stupid to try and do it myself, I should just have bought dye. After that accident I was too upset to do anything about it, and now I think perhaps red would look better. What do you think?”

Harry tried to imagine her with red hair, but for some reason, that reminded him of his mum, and he had a feeling that saying that out loud wasn’t such a good idea. No girl wanted to look like someone’s mum.

“Green eyes and red hair are a nice combination”, Hermione said. “On the other hand, some people have prejudices against redheads. I don’t know how it is in France, though.”

She must be thinking of Malfoy, who would mistake anyone with red hair for a Weasley, on principle.

“I can’t imagine there’s less prejudice. It’s less common here.” Rose sighed. “Perhaps I should just leave my hair as is. But enough about me. What’s your favourite subjects in Hogwarts?”

“Everything”, Hermione replied. “Except fl- I don’t like sports. Everything else is great – well, history is a bit boring, but that’s because of the teacher.”

“The history teacher is a – ancient”, Harry added, remembering just in time that there were muggles everywhere around them. “I swear he has been teaching the same way for the past five hundred years. Everyone falls asleep in the lessons.”

“I like chemistry best”, Rose said. “Sometimes I get bored because we repeat everything again and again, but our teacher is nice and lets me do my own projects during class.”

“Wow. Our teacher would never allow that”, Harry blurted out. “He’s so nasty. I think I might like chemistry if it wasn’t taught by him.”

“That nasty? Really?”

“Pretty much.”

“What does he do?”

“He picks on Harry”, Hermione explained. “Seems to personally hate him.”

“Yeah, apparently he didn’t like my dad in school. But he’s nasty to Hermione, too. Doesn’t like that she always knows the answers to his questions and never lets her say anything. What kind of teacher does that?”

“He probably wants to see whether someone else knows the answers, too”, Rose mused.

Before Harry could explain, Mrs. and Mr. Granger walked up to them.

Introductions were made, the Grangers mentioned their intention to go for lunch nearby, and asked Rose if she had a recommendation, and if, perhaps, she and her parents wanted to join them?

“I’m here with my guardian”, Rose explained. “He just, um, wanted to ... go to the toilet. We agreed I’d wait for him here.”

“Then he’ll be back in a moment”, Hermione said.

“He did mention there was a long line.”

Harry had a nagging suspicion that Rose was lying, but why would she? If she went to a magical boarding school, she didn’t have to run away from home, and anyway, she looked old enough to go to a museum on her own.

“Oh, there he is!”

When Harry looked around, he saw Rose walk right into a large group of people, probably a guided tour.

Had she just invented an excuse to get away from them?

He looked at Hermione, who seemed focused on something – could she see Rose`s guardian?

“Oh Harry”, Hermione breathed. “That’s so awkward!”

Turning around again, he finally saw what she meant. Rose had emerged from the tourist group, happily chatting to a tall man clad in a black linen shirt and black linen trousers. His black hair was bound into a ponytail.

“Is that ... please tell me I am hallucinating.” But there was no doubt about it. This was Snape, and apparently they now knew exactly who the mysterious blonde girl he’d been seen with was.

He was fast approaching them, and Harry wanted to run away. But that would make the Grangers worry, so he stayed.

“I guess he can’t deduct points when we’re not at school”, he mumbled.

“But it’s so awkward”, Hermione wailed.

“Dr. and Dr. Granger, I presume?” Snape said in a clipped voice. “I am Severus Snape. Rose’s guardian, and also the ... chemistry teacher at your daughter’s school.”

How embarrassing! Harry had forgotten that them being dentists must mean they were both Dr. Granger! He only had called them Mrs. and Mr. Granger in his head, but still.

“Pleased to meet you”, the female Dr. Granger said without batting an eyelid and extended her hand. “No need to use the titles, we aren’t at work. What a coincidence you are here, too!”

“Yes, isn’t it?”, Snape drawled, touching her hand as briefly as he could possibly get away with. “You brought Potter along? What for?”

Rose flinched, and gestured towards Harry in what he took to be a wordless attempt at apology.

“Because he is friends with Hermione”, Hermione’s father said decisively, extending his hand towards Snape, too. “Nice to finally meet a teacher from her school, Hermione told us so much about everyone.”

“Did she, now?”

“Please, uncle”, Rose begged, looking at him pleadingly, as if she seriously hoped Snape would stop being embarrassingly rude just because she asked.

Snape sighed. “Very well. Rose told me you invited her to lunch?”

“You were included in the invitation, Mr. Snape. We do not expect you to be as trusting as Harry’s aunt and uncle.”

Trusting, ha! The Dursleys couldn’t care less if he was kidnapped.

“Fine. I know a restaurant nearby that serves reasonably edible food.”

Hermione and Harry exchanged a glance. Had Snape actually just agreed to go for lunch with them?

Some time later, they all sat around a table, and made awkward conversation.

“Hermione never told us you had a ward”, Hermione’s mother bravely said after the weather, French cuisine and the crowdedness of the Louvre had been exhaustively debated.

“I don’t go around telling everyone”, Snape replied tersely. “There is no need for students to know about my private life.”

“It would make you more approachable”, Hermione’s father pointed out. “Of course, you still need to be professional, but a good balance is best. At least when it comes to dentistry, you can’t work with a child who thinks you are some heartless machine, and I think it is even more true for teachers.”

Snape harrumphed.

“Really, one might think you were ashamed of me”, Rose muttered.

“I am not! Rose, this is ridiculous! I would never –” apparently noticing he had raised his voice, Snape interrupted himself. “We will talk about this later.”

Turning to the Grangers again, he stated, as if every word was forcibly extracted from him like a wisdom tooth: “Rose’s parents couldn’t raise her themselves, she grew up with her foster parents from the start. When the guardianship passed over to me, I didn’t have the means to raise a child, and also didn’t want to tear her away from the only family she had ever known. It is no secret, I simply do not choose to tell it to nosy students.”

After an awkward silence, their meals arrived and somewhen during eating, Hermione had a flash of inspiration and told Snape she wanted to ask some questions about her essay.

“If you must”, he conceded, making a discrete gesture. “There’s no danger of being overheard by muggles, now.”

With Rose there, Snape was actually pretty civil about answering Hermione’s questions.

“It sounds as if you just read the books”, Rose said after a while. “Don’t you experiment in your spare time? I mean, at school.”

For a brief moment Hermione looked guilty. “I don’t think that’s allowed”, she said cautiously. “It is very dangerous.”

“Not if you know what you are doing. And you do, don’t you? You know exactly what additions could explode a potion, don’t you?”

“Well, there’s other things that can go wrong.”

Rose gave Snape an impatient look.

“If you manage, in the future, to exceed the minimum length I set for your essays by no more than one foot of parchment, in normal writing, I might be persuaded to supervise some experimenting”, he stated awkwardly.

“Really?” Hermione’s eyes went wide. “Thank you sir, I – but how am I supposed to mention everything important in an essay that’s so short?”

“Considering that other students endlessly complain that the essays I assign are far too long, I am sure you can manage. Especially if you eliminate words like ‘presumably’, ‘likely’ and ‘probably” from your vocabulary. Test your hypotheses and write about facts.”

Hermione stared onto her half-finished plate, ears reddening with humiliation. “Yes sir.”

Rose shot Snape a reproachful look.

“Good. Most of the time your assumptions are entirly correct and there is no need for this sort of verbal insecurity”, Snape amended his harsh words.


“It is weird”, Harry mused much later that day, when they had retired to their hotel room. “Rose really seems to have Snape wrapped around her little finger. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it.”

“It is not like he does everything she wants”, Hermione pointed out. “Mum and dad would never be nasty to my friends, either. Well, not that they’re usually nasty to anyone, but, you know.”

“Well, yeah. Your parents are your parents. Snape isn’t Rose’s dad.” Why would he care? Who had even left him in charge of a child? That was insane!

“It sounds like he knew her when she was a baby. Even if she didn’t live with him, it sounds like they’re pretty close. She calls him uncle and all.”

“So what? Uncle Vernon is even actually my uncle and he wouldn’t care at all what I think of his behaviour towards my friends.” Hermione meeting Vernon was too horrible to even imagine!

“Yes, but ... sorry, but your relatives don’t count. They aren’t normal.”

The Dursleys not normal? Harry snorted. “If you ask them, they are the most normal family to ever have existed. They’re proud of it. I think they hate me partly because I ruin their prefect track record of being normal.”

“Maybe, but the way they treat you is not normal at all.”

Harry had suspected that for a long time, and had felt justified in doing so when he had so hurriedly been given Dudley’s second bedroom after his Hogwarts letter arrived.

Still, now he felt a need to contradict Hermione. “How would you know? How many families do you know that had to raise their nephew even though they have a son of their own?”

“None, but that doesn’t matter. It’s just not normal. You were a baby. If my parents suddenly had to raise my cousin Richard now, it would probably take some getting used to, but a baby? It’s not like you would have turned your nose at their cooking and demanded to be allowed to watch TV all day, or something.” Hermione threw her hands up in the air. “My point is, Professor Snape caring about Rose isn’t weird at all, it would be weirder if he didn’t care.”

“It’s Snape!”

“So what? He did help you with that love potion, didn’t he? Because he’s normal enough to, you know, do his job.”


Harry thought about that during the next few days.

It seemed the Dursleys really, really weren’t normal at all – at least if the Grangers were.

Hermione’s parents told Harry to order whatever he wanted at restaurants, had gifted him a cheesy tiny eiffel tower after he’d insisted he didn’t want anything from the souvenir shop, and the one time so far they’d bought ice cream, Harry had gotten one exactly the same size as everyone else.

Harry had never liked the Dursleys, but part of him had always thought it was just how people treated nephews who were being a burden, and that the Dursleys just were somewhat more unpleasant about it than the average family would.

Staying with the Weasleys he had just figured magical people were nicer, but now ...

It felt a bit like the ground was pulled away from under his feet.

Could he really go back to the Dursleys, now, knowing that they weren’t just a bit nasty but, well, not at all normal, as Hermione put it?

They met with Rose and Snape again, as Rose had promised to show them the entrance to magical Paris, and Snape had, grudgingly, allowed it.

Harry was rather startled when Hermione’s parents announced they wouldn’t join in, but were happy to leave the children in the care of Professor Snape.

“It would be awkward for you to have to babysit us muggles”, Hermione’s mother said firmly when Snape frowned at the suggestion. “I am not sure my nerves have recovered from Diagon Alley, yet. All that magic is rather frightening when you don’t have the talent to use it.”

That didn’t sound to be the entire truth, but Harry wasn’t overly worried about it, either – the last meeting had been so awkward he fully understood why they didn’t want to repeat it. Only the fact that there were no adults there to protect him from Snape ...


“This isn’t Hogwarts”, Snape said, glaring at Harry. “Since I cannot assign detention or take house points, I will also not go out of my way to rescue you from dangerous situations you recklessly jumped into.”

“Harry won’t do anything reckless, sir”, Hermione promised. “It’s just a window shopping trip, what could possibly go wrong?” Immediately after she had said those words, she paled.

“Now I did it”, she whispered to Harry when Snape turned to talk to Rose. “In books, people always say that sort of thing before everything goes horribly wrong.”
“We aren’t in a book”, Harry reminded her. “Don’t worry.”

Snape led them to a bronze statue that moved when they approached. “I will go first, Rose, you go last.”

Even though they were with Snape, Harry felt the same wonder and amazement he had at visiting Diagon Alley when the bronze statue moved to reveal a portal.

Harry saw a Quidditch shop window and walked towards it, but soon realized that all the information on the broom on display was in French. So he contented himself with a short glance at the broom and hurried after the girls.

They were heading to a pet shop nearby. Rose was fascinated with a raven that was seated on a perch outside the shop.
She had mentioned she thought she would be sorted into Ravenclaw if she went to Hogwarts – but, wait, the animal on the Ravenclaw crest was an eagle. He still got confused about that at times.

While Rose tried to find out which language the raven spoke – she was sure it had to be able to talk, apparently - Harry followed Hermione inside.

“Looking for a pet?”, he asked. After all, she didn’t have one yet.

“Oh, I’m not sure. It would be really great to have an owl, but then, the neighbours might notice if I let her hunt, and locking her up all summer would be cruel. What do you do with Hedwig?”

“The Dursleys locked her up”, Harry admitted regretfully. “I think next time I’ll either leave her at Hogwarts or ask her to go live with the Weasleys for summer.” Her presence had kept him sane, reminding him that the magical world must exist, but if the Weasleys hadn’t rescued them ... Harry wasn’t an expert on owls but he didn’t think an animal who liked to hunt could live on a diet of limp vegetables for long.

“A pet I have to leave at Hogwarts in the holidays wouldn’t be much of a pet”, Hermione mused. “Perhaps a smaller owl wouldn’t be spotted ... or I could get a cat.” She eyed the cats on display, most of them white with luxurious long fur. “Perhaps one that’s a bit more, you know, down to earth, though. Those are beautiful, but I would want one that, you know, really jumps out at me.”

Harry nodded his agreement. It was probably a bit silly to judge animals for their appearance, but those cats looked like little princes and princesses who wouldn’t accept any but the most expensive catfood.

They were all seated on velvet cushions, which already showed you what they were used to.

Looking at the row of cushions, Harry noticed that one didn’t contain a cat, but ... he stepped closer. A black snake.

The snake raised its head, and Harry noticed there was a tiny gold crown on it. “What are you staring at, asshole? Don’t like snakes, do you?”

“Uh ...” Harry blinked. “I’m very sorry, sir. Or madam. Um.”

The snake froze, so completely he thought it might be dead. “My apologies. I was not aware you could understand me”, it said at last, sounding rather embarrassed.
“No, I’m sorry, it was rude to stare. I just didn’t expect a snake.” Harry hesitated. “That’s a nice crown you have there.”

“Thank you. It is a burden at times, but someone has to be queen.”

“Potter!”

Harry winced. “Sorry, I have to leave”, he told the snake.

It turned out his guess had been correct. Snape all but dragged him out of the shop. “What were you thinking?”, he scolded him once they were out on the street. “If someone noticed - ” Snape breathed deeply.

“What? I wasn’t rude. In fact, she was very happy I complimented her crown.”

Snape glared at him. “You spoke parsel, you idiot!”, he hissed. “We could have a dark wizard panic at our hands right now, thanks to you!”

Oh, right. Hermione had told him people might have prejudices. “You are exaggerating. It can’t be that bad.”

“Yes it can. Now shut up.”

“Don’t be like that”, Rose pleaded. “Harry couldn’t have known, his family are muggles, remember?”

Harry was surprised when Snape actually stopped scolding him after that.

The next shop they went to was Snape’s choice, a bookstore.

It was several stories high, with galleries winding around every room, and Harry was sure it was bigger on the inside than the outside.

“It is a pity I don’t speak French”, Hermione commented once Snape had wandered away, apparently in search of some rare book. “Hogwarts should really offer some languages, we don’t even have Latin!”

“Oh.” Rose seemed to only now realize the problem. “There must be a foreign languages section. I’ll ask.”

Before she could go seek out someone to ask, however, one of the nearest bookshelves turned into stairs. Without hesitating, she climbed them. “Here it is! Oh, there’s a lot of English books!”

There really were, and they spent a while browsing them all.

“Oh – this is a new rendition of a book by Rowena Ravenclaw herself! Why don’t they have this in Diagon Alley?”, Hermione exclaimed.

Rose nodded absent-mindedly, staring at the cover of Lockhart’s Gadding With Ghouls, which of course did not depict a ghoul but the author in all his golden-locked glory, award-winning smile fixed on his face.

Harry found a thin booklet on Quidditch that must be quite old, it listed the Chudley Cannons as a great and successful team.

“Wow, did you know the Chudley Cannons’ motto used to be ‘We shall conquer’?”

Hermione looked up. “Oh? What is it now?”

At such times, Harry really missed Ron. “They changed it to ‘Let’s all just keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best’.”

“That’s just depressing”, Hermione said, then buried her nose in the book by Rowena Ravenclaw again.

“What are the Chudley Cannons?”, Rose asked.

“A Quidditch team. They haven’t won a game in years. Our friend Ron is a very loyal fan, but I don’t think they have many anymore.”

“That’s just silly. If you only wanted to be a fan of the winning team, you’d have to change loyalties after every match, wouldn’t you?”

Harry nodded. “True. I’ve been a bit of a loser most of my life, and it’s nice to know Ron doesn’t care.” That thought had never occured to him before, but now he realized how reassuring Ron’s enduring love for the Chudley Cannons was. After all, if any of the other Quidditch teams got a really good seeker, his bit of Quidditch fame could easily come to an end. “Do you play Quidditch?”

Rose shook her head. “I chose horseriding. You have to decide, you see, and I love horses, so I couldn’t do Quidditch. I don’t think Uncle Sev would have approved, anyway.”

It took Harry a few moments to realize whom she was talking about.

Uncle Sev? Merlin’s pants, how could she get away with calling Snape THAT?

“So he’s very strict?” Well, figured. This was still Snape.

“Not really. I didn’t even know he had a say about what I get to do before I told mum and dad that I wanted to join the horseracing team and they said they’d have to ask him. It’s just that he rants about how dangerous Quidditch is.” Rose frowned “Now that I think about it, it’s strange. I could swear he told me how proud he was of his Slytherin Quidditch team a couple years ago. But the last few times he visited, it was all about how insane it is that they let first years play it and don’t even require the parents’ permission, and that he’d have words with my parents if they ever let me. Did anyone have a horrible accident or something lately?”

Harry thought about it. Anything that would have caused people to consider Quidditch too dangerous? He couldn’t recall anything of the sort ever being mentioned. “No. Must have been before my time.”

Rose checked her wristwatch. “Speaking of time – we should get ready to go.”

Right, Snape had said something about meeting at the entrance. Harry looked at the booklet wistfully. “Wish I hadn’t left my galleons in the hotel.” Hermione’s parents had given him some French muggle money, but they’d told him it was strictly for emergencies, like having to call the hotel if he got separated from them or something. They’d probably not be thrilled if he spent it on a book.

“I can lend you some money”, Hermione said. “Well, muggle money, but I suppose we will have to exchange it anyway.”

“Let me see.” Rose took the booklet. “Oh, that’s affordable. Tell you what, I will buy it for you.”

Harry stared at her. “But – you can’t – you only met us the day before yesterday!” What if she regretted her generosity later and then resented him for having accepted it?

“I feel like I have known you a lot longer. Who knows, you might be my long lost younger brother.” Rose flashed him a bright grin. “We are eye twins!”

It was true, Rose’s eyes were the same green as Harry’s. For someone with blonde hair, though, green eyes weren’t as unusual, were they? They fit in nicely with her blonde curls and the few freckles on her nose. Harry noticed that she had tied her hair with a matching emerald green ribbon today.

Long lost brother? If only. The Dursleys hadn’t managed to lose him, so they surely wouldn’t have lost his sister. Especially since Rose wasn’t scrawny and freakish like him – she would have been the perfect little girl, the one Aunt Petunia wished she had so she could buy pink and frilly dresses for her.

Harry wondered what Rose thought of looking like that, as he suspected she wasn’t very fond of frilly dresses. Perhaps that was why she wanted to dye her hair.

“Besides, that book is about the price of a decent sized ice cream, so really, don’t worry”, Rose continued.

When Snape came to fetch them – apparently they were running late - Rose had already moved on to Hermione. “You can pay back part of it, if you absolutely insist”, she conceded after Hermione had voiced her concerns. “But, really, I am older than you, I probably get more allowance.”

“If you still want to eat an ice cream, we need to leave now” Snape stated, in a much more neutral tone than he’d ever used on Harry.

“We’re ready!” Rose announced. “Just have to pay.”

Harry could have sworn they had been further away from the entrance and counter than they were now.

Fortunately there was no line, and the shopkeeper, a thin, middle-aged woman in a faded green velvet robe, sat behind the counter reading a book.

She startled when Rose rung the bell.

They didn’t pay with knuts, sickles and galleons here, Harry noticed. His money would have been useless.

Snape made no comment when Rose handed them the books and they put them into their respective backpacks.

Silently, he led the way to an ice cream parlour.

“I will be paying for no more than three scoops of ice cream for each of you”, Snape announced as they sat down. He sounded so grumpy that Harry thought he was being mean for a moment, then realized that that was rather a lot.

Harry looked at the options on display. There were no English names, but he knew what the common ice cream flavours were. “I think I’ll take some of that red one.”

“Do you like the taste of actual blood?”, Snape drawled.

“Of course not!”

“Then you’d better take something else.” Rose pointed at one that was more pinkish in colour. “That one’s strawberry, if that’s what you wanted. Or, over there – tomato!”

In the end, Harry decided to stick to strawberry, raspberry and chocolate. He didn’t want to see the schadenfreude on Snape’s face if he didn’t like the tomato and basil ice cream, though it was tempting.

Hermione was a bit more daring, with spruce flavoured ice cream in addition to wild blueberry and, at Rose’s insistence she take three scoops, chocolate.

Rose only wanted dark chocolate ice cream, and Snape just ordered coffee for himself.

“I have tried everything”, Rose explained as she digged into her ice cream. “Except for cockroach and blood, obviously. But this one is just the best.”

The chocolate one really was good, but so were the other two Harry had chosen.

When they had finished their ice creams, Hermione excused herself to go to the toilet. Rose got up, too, and followed right behind.

“Why do girls always go to the toilet in groups?”, Harry wondered idly.

Snape glared at him. “You, of all people, ought to know, Potter. Mountain trolls may not be very common, but they are not the only danger a young girl could encounter in a public toilet. And no, I never believed Miss Granger’s claim that she sought out the creature.”

“That was one time!”

“As you are so, dare I say, chummy with the castle’s ghosts that you attend their deathday parties, I would have assumed you knew where Myrtle Warren died.”

“She died in a toilet?”

“Why else do you think she would spend so much time there?”

Harry had never thought about it, but it did make a lot of sense.

“She was killed when the chamber of secrets was opened for the first time, Potter.”

So she knew about the monster? “Then why don’t we just ask her what the monster is?”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Because, Potter, she has not seen it. The only thing she testified was that she heard a male voice. And the only other thing the headmaster has been able to extract from her was that the voice was not particularly deep or loud, and thus unlikely to have belonged to Rubeus Hagrid.”

“Hagrid?” Sure, Hagrid had raised a dragon and kept a three-headed-dog and named if Fluffy, but he wouldn’t kill anyone.

“He was suspected. That was why he was expelled from Hogwarts. Keep that in mind, Potter.” Snape drew his wand from his sleeve and flicked it discreetly, so fast Harry couldn’t even react. Apparently, nothing happened. “He was expelled on the grounds that someone had witnessed he had been keeping a monster in his room. A monster that could not have killed Miss Warren the way she was killed. A monster that also had no connection at all to Salazar Slytherin. And you walk around and show off the fact you are a parselmouth. It is probably only thanks to your obnoxious father’s genes overriding all else that you were not placed in Slytherin for this talent alone – and you honestly cannot imagine what would be bad about the public finding out that you can talk to snakes?”

Harry blinked. “Uh. No, sir? I mean, lots of people can talk to snakes, can’t they?” He had never been special in anything before Quidditch, and didn’t think it likely he ever would.

“No, Potter, they cannot. You are the only parselmouth I know of in all of Hogwarts. There likely are some more in my house, but I cannot know for sure as no one but you would be foolish enough to walk around and not only tell people but demonstrate it.”

“I didn’t know it’s such a big deal! I grew up with muggles, remember?”

Snape took a deep breath. “Now you know. You have to keep this a secret, Potter! If people were to know – the speculations on who might be the heir of Slytherin would be at an end! You would be the first and foremost suspect! The ministry would put pressure on the headmaster to have you expelled!”

Oh, so now Snape was concerned about that? “So what? At the beginning of this year you were disappointed we didn’t get expelled, so what’s it to you?”

“Foolish boy! I only said that to scare you straight, I –” Snape interrupted himself, and his face coloured, as if he had blurted out some embarrassing secret.

Was this really happening? Was someone impersonating Snape with polyjuice potion? But he behaved like usual, just that ... “So you don’t hate me that much after all?”

It was rather disconcerting how fast his world was changing. He had been pretty confident that the Dursleys were at least somewhat normal, but he had been even surer that Snape absolutely loathed him.

“Don’t get any stupid ideas, I – I ...” Snape looked a bit like a fish out of the water, opening and closing his mouth. “Of course I do not hate you. It is, after all, my duty to treat you like any other student.”

Some time ago, Harry would have taken this to mean that Snape did, in fact, hate his guts, but wasn’t allowed to say so.

Now, he wondered.

Snape hadn’t been nice about it, but he had warned him about the blood-flavoured ice cream first.

Perhaps Rose would have, anyway, but the Snape he thought he knew would still have waited and hoped for Harry to have his day ruined.

While Harry pondered this strange behaviour, Snape called the waiter and paid.

“Thank you, sir.” Harry said quietly when the waiter had left. “For the ice cream.” Snape or not Snape, it simply felt rude to not say anything.

“I only do this for Rose.”

In Harry’s opinion, that didn’t make it less surprising at all. Why would Snape do anything at all for this girl he wasn’t related to?

Snape caring about anyone at all was about as surprising as him not hating Harry quite as much as previously assumed.


When Hermione returned from the toilet, she seemed a bit unsettled.

“Meet any mountain trolls?” Harry asked jokingly, hoping she’d explain things.

She forced a smile. “No, not this time, thankfully.”

On the way back to the magical statue, she told Rose the story of how they’d fought the troll, forgetting to edit it for Snape’s sake.

Snape didn’t comment.

Anything more than a year ago probably was water under the bridge, nothing he could assign detentions for.

They met up with Hermione’s parents, said goodbye to Rose and Snape, and continued their sightseeing.


Hermione seemed somewhat distracted all day, but she denied it whenever her parents commented on it.

Only after dinner, when she was alone with Harry, she confided in him: “Rose told me she found her birth certificate and ... oh Harry, you won’t believe it!”

“Why is it so shocking? Is she actually Voldemort’s daughter or something?” Now that would be creepy!

“No, but you might think it’s almost as bad. Professor Snape is her father.”

“What?” Okay, that explained why he was so nice to her, but it didn’t explain why he lied about it. “When did she find out? Yesterday?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, last summer already. She said she wasn’t searching for it, even, she’d gotten hurt and was looking for a healing potion, and thought she remembered her mother keeping some in the locked drawer in her desk, and, well.”

“That must have been a shock!” Harry wasn’t sure in which way, though. Perhaps Rose was just angry because Snape hadn’t told her?

“She was very upset. That’s why she tried to dye her hair, apparently. She wanted to see if she’d look more like him with darker hair.”

Why would anyone want to look like Snape?

On the other hand, Harry did like that he looked very like his dad. Just that his dad hadn’t been, well, Snape.

What was about as baffling was the thought that Snape must have had a girlfriend. Had he used a love potion? “Did she tell you about her mother, too?”

“Yes, and ... that’s rather weird, you know? I guess it is better if you sit down before I tell you ...”

Harry sat on his bed. “What could be more shocking than having Snape as a father?”

“Well, we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions but the name of her mother was ...” Hermione drew a deep breath. “Lily Evans.”

“No way!” That just couldn’t be! It couldn’t!

Slowly, realization sank in, and Harry felt like he had a clump of ice in his stomach. “That’s why she has the same eyes as me ...”

“As I” Hermione corrected. “Sorry. As I said, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions, there’s villages in Wales where everyone is called Evans, it is not that rare a name ...”

“Yeah, I guess ...” But what were the chances that there was another witch called Lily Evans, of about the right age?

“If you are half-siblings – and I don’t say you are, we just don’t know right now – then your mum would have had Rose when she was still at Hogwarts.” Hermione frowned in concentration. “That would explain why she was shipped off to France ... people used to hush such things up ...”

Harry groaned. “Not helping.”

“It’s just a theory. Anyway, Rose asked me to research things, ask around in Hogwarts, and so on. And don’t look like that – wouldn’t it be great to have a sister?”

Having Rose as a sister ... yes, that would be nice, if it didn’t mean he had to think about Snape and his mother and ... ewww.

Harry decided to think about it as little as possible. Hermione was right, they couldn’t be sure it was the same Lily Evans.

“Oh, and don’t tell anyone about it – Rose said her parents’ names are secret for some reason Snape refuses to tell her. Anyway, I don’t think he’d be happy if everyone at Hogwarts knew he has a daughter.”

“Why isn’t Rose more angry? I mean, Snape lied to her.” And hadn’t she accused him of being ashamed of her? That made sense now, he must be, or why didn’t he admit he was her father?
Of course, Rose had more reason to be ashamed of Snape than the other way round.

“She is angry. It’s just that she thinks if he’s lying to her, he won’t admit it anyway if she asks about it, so she doesn’t want him to know she knows. If we ask around for her, she has more of a chance to find out the truth.”

That made sense, but Harry still couldn’t understand how she had been able to keep it to herself. “Her whole life is a lie!”

Hermione sat down next to him. “He only really lied about being her father. The part about her parents not being able to take care of her could be true – he must have been very young at the time. Rose figures they might have passed her off as her mother’s younger sibling or something. She hopes there’s some good reason why Snape needs to keep everyone believing the lie, but even then, he could have trusted her with a secret.”

“She hopes Snape has a good reason?” In Harry’s experience, Snape didn’t need a good reason to be nasty. “Since when is he reasonable.”

Hermione shrugged. “Rose says he has always been reasonable with her. Told her she can’t know her real parents’ names because it’s a secret he can only tell her when she’s an adult. I don’t think he’s just doing it to annoy her. Perhaps it is just that he is embarrassed about it. He’s a teacher, he’d be setting a bad example if everyone knew he got a girl pregnant while he was still at school, wouldn’t he? He can’t be ashamed of her, she’s nice and gets good grades and all.”

Typical that Hermione would mention that! Harry hoped her parents wouldn’t be ashamed of her if she wasn’t such a genius. It didn’t seem likely. The Dursleys never would be ashamed of Dudley, even though he was so stupid. Why would Snape be ashamed of his daughter? It couldn’t be something to do with school, he couldn’t have known how she would turn out when he decided to give her away.

Except ... “Wait, what if her mum was a muggle and he thought she wouldn’t be magical? Filch acted like it was some shameful secret he’s a squib, so ...” That would mean Rose’s mother could be any random Lily from a village in Wales where everyone was named Evans, and not his mother. “Neville says his family wasn’t sure he would go to Hogwarts for a long time, so it’s possible, isn’t it?”

“And then she would already have been used to her foster parents”, Hermione said slowly. “But I really can’t believe he is that superficial.”

“Not more superficial than keeping her secret because of his reputation, is it? I mean, the Slytherins would hate him if word got out he had a muggle girlfriend.” Harry didn’t think Snape would have a muggle girlfriend, but you never knew. Love did seem to change people a lot. Love potions sure did.


Later, when it was time to go to bed, Harry remembered he had left his new book in the living room part of the suite. He tiptoed there, and found to his relief that Hermione’s parents were still up and he wouldn’t risk waking them. Their door was open, there was light inside and he could hear voices.

“Perhaps my idea of leaving Hermione to socialize with her new friend wasn’t such a good one”, Hermione’s father was just saying. “She was awfully quiet today, don’t you think?”

“It can’t have been her spending time with other children. Hogwarts is good for her, and you were right, she needs to become more independent of us. Do you think it was that teacher, Snape? If he so much as touched a hair on her head ...” Hermione’s mother sounded like she was ready to kill.

“He didn’t seem the type. If he was that sort of man, he would have acted nicer, wouldn’t he? Didn’t seem at all happy that he would have to babysit the children all on his own. If you hadn’t implied we would require even more babysitting, I’m sure he would have refused.”

Hermione’s mother chuckled. “True. He reminds me of a teacher I had – everyone knew she had wanted to become a scientist, but then she got pregnant and that was that. Terrible woman. Hated us all.”

“Perhaps he said something nasty about Hermione’s teeth. You know how sensitive she is about her teeth. And from what she told us, she was never alone with him.”

Harry wanted to tell them they needn’t worry, but then he would have to admit he had been eavesdropping, and also tell them about the secret Rose had told Hermione.

He would just have to tell Hermione her parents were worried. She would come up with some good excuse.


The holidays ended much too soon, and before he knew it, Harry stood at King’s Cross again, waiting for the train.

“Harry, Hermione, over here!” Ron waved.

They walked over to where the Weasley family was gathered.

Ginny looked much better than she had in a while, Harry realized. The change had been so gradual he hadn’t noticed anything at Hogwarts, but now it was obvious – her cheeks were much rosier than he remembered, and she smiled shyly at him.

“How was France?”, Ron wanted to know.

“Great.” Harry grinned. “Best holidays ever – no offence, staying at the Burrow was great, too, but I’ve never been abroad before.”

“Yeah, it’s different. We don’t go abroad much, mostly just to visit Charlie in Romania. Bill works in Egypt, but we can’t afford to go there as a family.”

When the train arrived, they were happily chatting about France, Romania, and how the countries were different.

Hogwarts welcomed them back as if no time at all had passed.

After Professor McGonagall had escorted them to Gryffindor common room, Harry immediately dragged Ron up the stairs to their dorm to tell him what had happened in the holidays – minus the things on Rose’s birth certificate. Harry wanted to be sure if it was his mum or not before he shared that with anyone else.

“No way!” Ron exclaimed. “Why would anyone put him in charge of a child? He hates children!”

“He doesn’t seem to hate Rose. But yeah, I was surprised, too. Don’t tell anyone, though – Snape would murder us.”

It was awkward to sit in potions class the next couple of times. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about the birth certificate, and messed up some of his potions as a consequence.

Strangely enough, Snape didn’t take the opportunity to pick on him – well, not much, anyway. He only took points, which wasn’t nearly as bad as his snide sarcasm.


Defence against the Dark Arts, however, was as bad as it had ever been.

Or actually, worse.

They were discussing Banshees now – only not really, it was all only about Lockhart’s heroics.

“Now, to show you how I defeated the Banshee of Bandon ... any volunteers?”

No one put up their hand, not even Hermione. Only a collective, muffled groan was heard.

“Harry, how about you? Come here!”

As slowly as he could, Harry trudged to the front of the classroom.

Lockhart instructed him to make a crooning noise – not that Harry really understood how a banshee was supposed to sound – and proceeded to wrestle him to the floor. “Excellent acting”, he praised. Then, in a whisper, continued: “You have the most beautiful eyes. Just like your mother.”


In the front row, Hermione snapped her fingers. “Sir, I have a question!”

Forced to release Harry, Lockhart got up. “Yes, Miss Granger?”

“Quirin Sumo says that a banshee is an otherworldly being, something between a ghost and a magical being. I just wondered, why can you wrestle with them?”

Lockhart flashed his prize-winning smile. “What an excellent question! I could only wrestle with the banshee because I was wearing cold iron on my body.”

Harry made his way back to his table.

“Sir, please, what exactly is cold iron? Is it iron you kept in the fridge?”

Hermione deserved an Order of Merlin for that. At the very least. Asking such a stupid question must be causing her physical pain.

“Fridge? Ah, the muggle thing. Yes, indeed, Miss Granger, one does use a coldness spell ...”

Just last week, Hermione had explained to them that cold iron was meteorite iron and the special thing about it was that you didn’t need as hot temperatures to make it into swords. Or something, Harry didn’t remember exactly.

When Lockhart finished his monologue, Harry was safely back at his desk.

Moments later, the lesson was over, and he couldn’t get out of the classroom fast enough.

Harry couldn’t say exactly why, but now, it annoyed him much more than before to be picked almost every single time Lockhart needed someone to play a monster or demonstrate a spell on.

Pretending to be a banshee wasn’t exactly more embarrassing than playing a werewolf, but still ...

“We should tell someone”, Hermione interrupted his thoughts. “It is weird, how Lockhart always picks you.”

Harry shrugged. “Snape always picks ON me.”

“Yes but ... honestly, I had thought you get it now. You acted more normal today, too.”

The corridor got rather crowded when Professor Flitwick stopped to wait for the moving stairs to move the right direction.

Harry lowered his voice to a whisper. “More normal, how?”

“You winced when he touched you”, Ron observed. “You didn’t do that before, I always thought you were just that great an actor.”

“I guess my supply of acting ability is running out”, Harry joked. Ron was right, though. Something had changed.
He would never admit to having liked the attention Lockhart gave him, but ... perhaps he had. Just a little bit. Not because he wanted the fame, as Snape always accused him, but because it was nice that a teacher liked him more than the others.

Now, it was just annoying.

“Lockhart mentioned something about my mother”, he continued. “Perhaps we could ask him ...?”

“When? During class?”

Impossible. Harry didn’t want everyone to hear. Especially if it turned out it was his mum on Rose’s birth certificate. “We could sneak out. I don’t think he’ll punish us for that.”

“Harry, I don’t think that’s a good idea. If you really want to ... of course it is better that we come with you, but still ...”

“It’s not that I think it is dangerous, but what can the idiot know, really?”, Ron said.

“He must have gone to school with my parents, I’m sure he knows something.” Even Lockhart must have heard some gossip during his time at school, right?

“Sure, but so does McGonagall.”

Ron was right, but if it was a secret everyone wanted to keep from him, something he wouldn’t like to hear – like his mother going out with Snape – then Lockhart would be the only one dumb enough to not know that.

Or Hagrid ... Hagrid wasn’t stupid. Well, not really. He was just ... Hagrid. And he might let something slip ...
But Hagrid would remember that they weren’t to go out alone, and unlike Lockhart, Hagrid would care.

It wasn’t really that important. Not important enough to put Hagrid in a situation where he had to tell Dumbledore or risk his job and keep the secret.




There were no new cases of petrified students, and everyone had relaxed a bit when Harry heard the voice again.

“Did you hear it now?”, Harry asked Hermione in a whisper. “The voice?”

“Please talk louder, Potter, I am sure we all want to know”, Snape drawled.

Harry fell silent. If Snape found out he heard voices ...

But Snape was not done with him. Stepping closer, he stared Harry right in the eyes.

It took all of Harry’s Gryffindor courage to stare right back at him.

“Now? Care to enlighten us?”

Of course, Harry kept his mouth firmly shut. Hearing mysterious voices was not a thing he wanted Snape to know about.

“I have had it with your disrespect, Potter. Follow me.”

“Sir, you aren’t supposed to leave us alone”, Hermione reminded him.

“I am well aware, Granger. Everyone, follow me.” Snape walked towards an empty classroom, beckoned them inside, and threw the door shut, sealing it with some kind of spell.

“Now, Potter, what was it that you so urgently needed to inform Miss Granger of? I can wait. No one will leave this classroom until you talk.”

The time seemed to stretch forever. After about ten minutes, Harry wondered why the teacher for their next lesson hadn’t come looking for them.

After some more time, Harry seriously considered telling Snape that he heard voices just so he could get away from the angry glares of the Slytherins and some of the Gryffindors.

Just when he opened his mouth, a pearly white figure entered through the locked door. “Professor Snape, I have grave news”, the Bloody Baron announced.

“Not in front of the children, then.” Snape performed a gesture that Harry recognized from their holidays. And sure enough, he could only hear buzzing while the Bloody Baron spoke to Snape.

After the ghost had finished his report, Snape turned towards the gathered students. “There has been another attack. I shall take you directly to your common rooms.”


Of course, being Snape, he took the Slytherins to their dungeon first.

When they finally reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Snape followed them inside.

“You come with me, Potter.”

Harry wondered what that meant for about a second, then Snape threw floo powder into the fire.

“Headmaster’s Office”, he said and stepped in, dragging Harry with him.

In almost no time, Harry felt himself being pulled out of another fire.

The smoke bit in his eyes and he had to cough so hard it took him a while to realize that Dumbledore was there.

Dumbledore gently patted his back, and Harry found he could breathe easier.

“I presume you have good reason to drag Harry here in such a manner, Severus?”

“The boy told Miss Granger about having heard a voice, implying it wasn’t the first time, and that Miss Granger could not hear it. Considering that he is a parselmouth, this certainly warrants investigation. Especially since there was another attack shortly after he heard the voice.”

“A parselmouth? Curious, most curious. What, exactly, did the voice say, Harry?”

Harry briefly considered denying everything, but then decided to just tell the truth. If Snape thought there was some connection to the attacks, he needed to convince Dumbledore he had nothing to do with it.

“It wanted to kill, sir. Just that, really. ‘Let me kill’ or something along those lines.”

“Forgive an old man a stupid question, Harry, but did it sound like it might be a snake?”

A snake? That would explain everything! “Yes, sir, it could have been, I guess. I didn’t really pay attention to how it sounded, but ... that would explain why no one else heard it, right?”

“Indeed, Harry.” Dumbledore turned to Snape. “Thank you very much, Severus. That narrows it down considerably. If you would, take Harry back and then return here. We have much to discuss.”

When Harry stumbled out of the fire of the Gryffindor common room, Ron was thankfully there to pat his back while he coughed his lungs out.

“What did Snape want?”

“Not here.”

They went to their dormitory and Harry told Ron what had happened.

“Huh, so it’s a snake? Figures, it is Slytherin’s monster, after all.”

Not long after they had returned to the common room, it was flooded by students.

“Professor Dumbledore wants everyone in their common rooms”, Percy explained. “Didn’t say why, but there must have been a new attack. Worse than the others.”


When Professor McGonagall came to fetch them to dinner, she bore a grim expression. “The school will be closed as soon as all the parents have been informed.”

“What?” There was still some time to go until the summer, and Harry didn’t look forward to seeing the Dursleys earlier than usual. “Why?”

“The headmaster will explain it to all of you in the Great Hall.”


When they arrived, it was eeriely quiet. Only the Slytherin table was still empty, but before Harry could wonder why, Snape arrived, all the Slytherin students in tow.

Dumbledore didn’t have to ask for silence.

“Today, one of the places at the high table remains empty”, he began. “And it will be so until the end of term. Most of you did not know him well, but many will, no doubt, keenly feel the loss. I regret to have to inform you of the death of Gilderoy Lockhart.”

There was a shocked silence, interrupted only by some cheering from the Slytherin table, but it died immediately under Snape’s stern gaze.

Flitwick walked up to Dumbledore and told him something. Murmurs started among the Ravenclaws.

“Silence, please.” Dumbledore hit a spoon on the side of his goblet. “Professor Flitwick just informed me that one of his students went missing. If anyone knows where Luna Lovegood is or might be, they are to tell a teacher or, in case they feel ... guilty about something, their prefect, who is at liberty to not mention their name when relaying the information to Professor Flitwick or me.”

Dinner was very quiet, and no one ate much.

Ginny was inconsolable.

“Come on, you didn’t have a crush on Lockhart, too?”, Ron asked when silent tears started to roll down her cheeks after they’d returned to the common room.

“What? No! I – I just ... we were so nasty to Luna. What if – if she’s ...”

“I’m sure she will be fine”, Hermione said. “The professors are all looking for her.”


But Luna did not turn up the next day. Instead, there was writing on a wall. “Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever.”

Shortly after that news had spread, Ron caught Ginny trying to sneak out of the common room.

“You have no chance against Slytherin’s monster! You’re a first year!”

“And? You were the same age when you went to fight You-Know-Who.”

Harry had to admit to that. It was strange how suddenly, Ginny seemed too young to try and rescue Luna, when they had thought themselves plenty old enough to protect the Philosopher’s Stone back then. “Yes but we didn’t go alone”, he pointed out.

“You can come”, Ginny said. “But don’t try to keep me back.”

“It’s no use arguing”, Hermione told Ron. “Trust me, I tried it with you and Harry when you wanted to duel Malfoy. Didn’t help any.”

And she stomped off after Ginny.

Harry and Ron looked at each other for a moment, then followed.

Ginny led them to Moaning Myrtle’s toilet.

“And now?”, Hermione asked.

“I don’t know”, Ginny had to admit. “I just ... I know it must be somewhere here.”

“Why?”

“Here’s where I often woke up after - It’s all my fault.” Ginny looked around. “It’s that diary. I threw it in a toilet, and - ”

“Oh, you did that!” Myrtle rose from one of the cabins. “You! Think it funny to throw things at me?”

“What? I didn’t throw anything at you!”

“Yes you did! I was just sitting there, pondering death, and suddenly - ” Myrtle cried ghostly tears, too upset to continue speaking.

“I just wanted to get rid of the diary! I had no idea you were in there!”

Before Ginny could explain more, Hermione interrupted her: “Listen, Myrtle, Luna Lovegood has vanished. Have you seen her?”

“She came here to cry. Because you called her Loony.” Myrtle pointed an accusing finger at Ginny. “And she was sorry that someone had thrown a diary at me!”

“Have you seen her after that?” Hermione insisted.

“I am not sure ... let me think ...”

“Did she take the diary?” Ginny wanted to know. “It was cursed, you know.”

“Cursed? You threw a cursed diary at me?” Myrtle seemed to prepare for another bout of crying, but then she thankfully hesitated. “Oh, I haven’t seen her, but I heard her. Yesterday. The bullies steal her shoes, and I heard someone walk through here on socks.” Myrtle frowned. “I didn’t hear the door again. She mumbled something to herself, but I couldn’t understand what, and then she was suddenly gone. Probably some magic that I never got to learn. Because I’m dead.”

“No way, you don’t learn to apparate until like sixth year or so.” Ron looked around. “Fred and George say there’s tons of secret passageways in Hogwarts. Refuse to tell me where they are, though.”

Hermione was already busy inspecting the washbasins. “There’s a snake etched into this tap. If that’s just a Slytherin showing house pride, it’s a weird place for that.”

“Let me see.” Harry stepped closer. “No, it really doesn’t look like vandalism.”

“The tap doesn’t work”, Hermione mused. “Perhaps the passageway is somehow hidden behind it?

They tried everything to trigger the mechanism to open it, from touching their wands to it to punching it – Ron regretted that one immediately - but the basin wouldn’t move.

“Oh, we are such idiots!”, Hermione said at last.

“Hey, speak for yourself!”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up, Ron. Why are we being idiots?”

“We are looking for a secret chamber Salazar Slytherin built into the castle. Obviously, the way to open it would be something only his true heir can do – or at least something he thinks only his heir can do. Harry, you have to try using parseltongue.”

“How? When I talk to snakes, I just use regular English.”

“No, you don’t. I heard you in that pet shop”, Hermione stared at him. “Do you really not notice that you are, well, hissing when you talk to snakes?”

“What? No. I don’t think I ...” Was he? “Anyway, I can’t do it on purpose.”

“Perhaps if you look at that picture of a snake? Just try to imagine it is real?”



Just when Harry was about to try that, the door to the girls’ toilet opened.

“Potter. What part of ‘stay in your common room’ didn’t you understand?”

The next moment, everyone was talking at the same time. Ginny claimed it was her fault, Hermione and Ron defended Harry, and Moaning Myrtle complained that Snape had no business being in a GIRLS’ toilet, nevermind that Harry and Ron were there, too.

“No time to explain”, Harry said quickly when everyone had to catch their breath. “The entrance to the chamber of secrets must be somewhere here, sir. Please – we can’t waste any more time.”

Perhaps it was because he had seen Rose could reason with Snape – somehow he hoped the man would be reasonable. For once.

“Very well. Miss Warren, please do inform the headmaster that he will be needed here. You just might earn Ravenclaw some points.”

Myrtle floated off without complaint, which was nothing short of a miracle.

“Do proceed, Potter.”

It felt extremely silly to try and talk to a picture of a snake under Snape’s scrutinizing gaze, but Luna was in grave danger, if not dead already. They had to hurry.

Harry imagined, very hard, that the snake was real. “Open?”, he tried.

“You still talk English”, Hermione informed him. “Perhaps think of that snake in Paris?”

He tried again. “Please open the door”, he said.

This time, it worked. A pipe, large enough for a person to fit into, was revealed.

“Stay back”, Snape commanded. “You are to wait for the headmaster and tell him where I went.”

“I have to go!” Ginny insisted. “It’s all my fault she’s there! If I had told someone about the diary ...”

“What diary?”, Snape asked, distracted for a moment.

A moment Ginny used to climb into the pipe.

“Foolish girl!”

No matter how foolish he apparently thought what Ginny had done, Snape did the exact same.

“Harry, you should stay here, in case it closes again, you have to open it for Professor Dumbledore”, Hermione said.

“Hey, wait, you can’t - ”

Hermione climbed into the pipe and vanished.

“Sorry mate, but that’s my sister down there”, Ron said and followed suit.

Harry had no idea what he would have done if Dumbledore hadn’t appeared that moment. The phoenix on the headmaster’s shoulder fluttered its wings and vanished into the dark pipe, too, but Dumbledore stayed.

“Where are the others?” Dumbledore looked more serious than Harry had ever seen him, except perhaps in Snape’s office.

“In there! It must be Slytherin’s secret chamber! They told me to wait here in case it closed up again, but I can go with you, can’t I?”

“Are you sure you want to brave Slytherin’s monster?”

“I don’t have a choice! All my friends are down there!”

“Then we shall go together.”

Harry wondered if the others had as comfortable a ride as he – likely not. While he gently floated down into the darkness, courtesy of a spell Dumbledore had done, they must have used the pipe like a slide.

“There we are. Lumos!”

Dumbledore’s spell didn’t just produce a small light, but lighted the whole dark corridor, as if someone had switched on the electric light.

They ran, but soon, Harry realized Dumbledore was falling behind. He had known the man was old, but it had never been as – as real, as in that moment.

“Hurry, please!”

But Dumbledore stopped running, and continued in a slow walk, wheezing as he caught his breath. “I sent Fawkes ahead”, he said at last. “We have to trust in him.”

“Sorry, sir.” With that, Harry resumed running. He just had to be there, he couldn’t just sit around and hope that a bird had somehow helped the others against Slytherin’s monster.


When he arrived, he saw Hermione standing there and Ron sitting on the ground, and he let out a breath of relief. Then he noticed they were all forming a circle around ... “Ginny?”

“Miss Weasley will make a full recovery.” Snape was kneeling next to a lifeless body with long, dirty blonde hair, performing some spell on the strange girl.

As Harry stepped closer, he saw that Ron was cradling Ginny in his arms. She smiled weakly at Harry, but immediately after, her gaze darted to the girl Snape was examining.

“Potter! Where’s the headmaster?”
“He wasn’t as fast – said we could only wait and hope -”

“Waiting and hoping won’t save her! Go back and tell him to hurry the f- fudge up!”

“Do calm down, Severus.” Dumbledore stepped out of the shadows. “I doubt I can do anything you have not already thought of. What is the situation?”

“Dark magic. Her life has been sucked out of her, and ... Albus, she has a ... dark aura. Death was in her thoughts often even before this happened. Miss Weasley carried the cursed object for far longer, yet was not so affected ...” Snape put his wand away and carefully lifted Luna up into his arms.

“You think ... the early loss of her mother ...?”

“The bullying by her yearmates won’t have helped”, Snape replied harshly, settling Luna’s head against his shoulder.

“Oh, stop it! Ginny feels bad enough as is!”

Harry hadn’t ever seen Ron get so protective of his sister before. But she hadn’t ever looked so sick, either.

“Bad, perhaps. Bad enough? I rather doubt it.” Snape got up, Luna’s weight causing him to stagger. “Charming as the scenery is, I do think Miss Lovegood needs the hospital wing.”

“Ginevra does not look very healthy, either”, Dumbledore noted, then turned to Ginny. “Do you think you can get up and walk with your brother’s help?”

“Yes, sir. Um. Am I not going to get punished?”

“Punished? Dear girl, whatever for?”

“Well, I ... the diary ... I think it was me who ... I must have killed Hagrid’s roosters ...”

“Ah, yes, the diary.” Dumbledore picked something up from the ground. “It seems to have been thoroughly destroyed, but I am confident in concluding that it was a dark artifact and you were not acting out of your own volition. Is that correct?”

“Yes – I mean – I didn’t even remember what I had done in the mornings, I just woke up covered in feathers and ...”

“That is settled, then. You will not be punished for falling victim to one of Voldemort’s schemes.”

Voldemort? Hadn’t he died with Quirrell? “Voldemort? But – how? Didn’t I kill him last year?”

“I doubt he has enough humanity left to fully die”, Dumbledore said slowly. “And this ... was there a name in the diary, Ginevra?”

“Yes – Tom Riddle. He – he talked to me, and I should have known there was something wrong, and – please, you can save Luna, can you?”

“Hopefully. Tom Riddle, you see, is Voldemorts true name. He made sure almost no one remembers, but I will always remember the boy he used to be.”

Snape had walked ahead, but as he was still carrying Luna, had not gotten far.


When they arrived at the pipe, Dumbledore put a spell on it that made it grow even larger, and made stairs appear in it.

Snape went first, then Hermione and Ron with Ginny between them.


The hallways were empty, they didn’t meet a single person.

In the hospital wing, though, there were more patients than Harry would have expected.

Several petrified students, of course, but also a man he hadn’t ever seen before. He couldn’t be a teacher.

“How is Mr. Lovegood?”, Dumbledore asked Madam Pomfrey, stepping towards the bed that held the fair-haired man.

“I had to sedate him”, the healer replied briskly, while directing Snape to lay Luna on one of the empty beds. “Poor girl ... Severus, you already saw to her? What do you say?”

“Her lifepower was sucked out of her, and preciously little remains. The spell is broken now, but the spark of life is flickering. Her father’s presence might help ...” Snape gave the unconscious Mr. Lovegood a very sceptical look.

“Is there anything else that can be done?”

“A honest apology from her tormentors might improve things, but since that cannot be procured, I am at a loss.”

Madam Pomfrey stared at Snape. “Are you saying she is suicidal? Because the other children bully her?”

“Nonsense. I have never seen a child more committed to maintaining a cheerful mood in the face of adversity. All I am saying is that, her mother being dead and the world of the living not being exactly ... welcoming to her, she might be choosing not to fight what is already happening.”

“But we can get her an apology”, Harry blurted out, unable to keep quiet any longer. “Just call everyone to the Great Hall and tell them what the problem is!”

Snape regarded him with a gaze that might have turned someone into a solid ice block. “Oh yes. What a positively splendid idea. We tell everyone that their actions actually affect Miss Lovegood. That will make them double their efforts at tormenting her, which in turn will ensure her swift demise. It may have escaped you, Potter, but the rest of us are actually trying to save this girl’s life.”

“What? No! That’s not what I – I’m sure everyone will be sorry that they were mean to her!”

“Yes, yes. Of course. Why, your father would immediately have stopped being a bully had he seen his favourite victim cry in a corner.” Snape’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “After all, where is the fun in bullying if you actually achieve your objective? We all know any given activity is only fun as long as you do not succeed in it, which explains why potions is your favourite subject, Potter, does it not?”

“My father wasn’t a bully!”

Before Snape could murder him for that, Dumbledore stepped in. “That is quite enough, Severus. A girl is dying, there is no time to lose. What do you propose we do?”

Harry guiltily looked at Luna. She looked even worse now that Ginny was kneeling at her bedside, her rosy skin contrasting with Luna’s almost white paleness.

“I’m so sorry”, Ginny whispered. “We shouldn’t have ...”

The rest, Harry couldn’t understand.

“Take her father to a separate room and wake him. Ensure he understands how serious the situation is, and that he will be no use wallowing in his grief”, Snape recommended. Then he shooed Ginny away, taking her place kneeling at Luna’s side. “If you could remove the children, headmaster, I might be better able to focus.” He touched Luna’s shoulder. “There is still one thing I have not tried ...”

Dumbledore nodded, then looked at Hermione, Ron and Harry: “Would you be so kind as to wait outside?”

They had no other choice but to retreat. As they left, they heard Madam Pomfrey usher Ginny into her office to examine her.

“What happened to Ginny, anyway?” Harry asked.

Hermione and Ron started answering at the same time.

“Okay, you go first”, Ron conceded at last.

“Ginny was bitten by a basilisk”, Hermione explained.

“Killed the monster, too”, Ron added proudly.

“A what?”

Ron shrugged. “A giant snake.”

“That is a gross simplification”, Hermione complained. “But, yes, it looks like a snake. The venom is also deadly. Phoenix tears are a very powerful antidote, so I hope she will be okay.”


What? “Deadly? And you only tell me now?”

“Snape said it would have killed her immediately if the phoenix hadn’t cried on her wound, so we figure she is safe now.”

A giant snake. Of course Slytherin’s monster was a giant snake. It was so obvious, probably that was why no one had figured it out before.

“Talking of Snape, what is he doing in there?”, Ron asked, walking closer to the door.

Harry followed suit and they listened, while Hermione frowned at them disapprovingly.

Apparently, Snape had not used his anti-listening spell this time.

“... somewhat stronger. Still, that could be only temporary.”

“Oh, I have the utmost confidence in your efforts.”

Dumbledore sounded as if he was sure Luna would be fine. He also seemed amused by something.

“Shut up.”

Harry and Ron looked at each other. How dare Snape speak to Dumbledore like this?

But Dumbledore only chuckled.

There was a silence, then they heard another male voice. “Luna? Where is my Luna? Luna!”

They heard steps and could just jump out of the way before the door opened and Snape strode out, ignoring them as he went past.

Dumbledore followed. “It appears that Ginevra has been permitted to return to her dormitory, on the condition that she not overexert herself. If you wish to see Luna, I am sure it can be arranged, but I must ask you to give her father a few private moments with her first. She is well on the mend.”

“When can we visit?” Ginny emerged from the hospital wing.

“That is for Madam Pomfrey to decide, but I do think your chances of being allowed to see Luna will be best tomorrow morning after breakfast. A good night’s sleep almost always improves a patient’s condition and therefore the healer’s mood.”

They were about to return to Gryffindor tower when Harry suddenly remembered something.”Wait ... why don’t we go visit Hagrid?” Finally, they were, once again, free to go where they wanted. And they still hadn’t made any progress on finding out who Rose’s mother really was.

And if she was Harry’s mother, too.

Hagrid was delighted to see them. Only when he was about to brew them a cup of tea did he suddenly hesitate. “Are yeh allowed to leave the castle on yer own? What with that monster on the loose?”

“Ginny killed the monster”, Ron said, as proudly as if he had done it himself.

“Yer having me on!”

Hermione explained what had happened, and Hagrid frowned. “That was dangerous! Ya shouldn’t have!”

“We had to help Luna!” Ginny cried out. “It was all my fault anyway!”

Hagrid patted her shoulder, a bit too hard judging by the face she made.“Yer a good kid. But it’s no use blaming yerself. It’s You-Know-How, yeh couldn’t have stood a chance.”

He went back to making tea, and to Harry’s relief forgot to offer them his rock cakes.

“So, how was the holidays? Hope the muggles weren’t too bad, Harry?”

“I didn’t stay with them, actually.”

“He went with us”, Hermione explained. “My parents decided to go to France in the easter holidays instead of the summer. Less crowded. France has such an interesting magical history, I learnt tons of new things!”

“We saw the Eiffel tower”, Harry added. The thing that had stuck in his memory most was meeting Snape, but it wouldn’t be wise to mention that, Hagrid couldn’t keep a secret. “How were your holidays, Ginny? You didn’t take that cursed diary back home with you, did you?”

“No, I had already thrown it away by then”, she confirmed.

“Mum was worried Ginny might be ill”, Ron recalled. “But after a couple days at home, she was back to normal. If we’d known it was that damn diary ...”

Hermione nodded. “It seems to have harmed Luna more, though. Wonder why that is. Professor Snape didn’t explain much. He just said it was because of bullying ...” She frowned. “Oh, Hagrid, you must have known Professor Snape back when he was a student, right?”

“Known him, not really. Seen him around, more like. Kept to himself, he did. Except ...”

“Yes?”

“He spent a lot of time with yer mum, Harry.”

For a moment, Harry heard nothing but the beating of his own heart resounding in his ears. That couldn’t be true! It just couldn’t!

“First year, when they arrived at Hogwarts, they took a boat together, I remember that. Drove yer dad mad with jealousy.”

“They were a couple?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing like that. They were kids, an’ anyway, Hermione, yeh should know girls and boys can just be friends.”

“Of course. I just wondered. Professor Snape seems to hate Harry’s dad, and I thought, if he was jealous ...”

“James was jealous alright. Was a bit mean to Professor Snape because of it. That’s your reason there.”

“Snape isn’t on any of the photos you gave me”, Harry realized.

“But he is!” Hagrid refilled their teacups. “Of course, he would look very different. Dark haired little bloke? Clothes too large for him, just like yours, Harry? He must be on one of the first photos of your mum at Hogwarts. They had some falling out later on, I don’t know about what, and I figure they never reconciled. A pity, it is.”

“Bet he found out she was muggleborn”, Ron said. “He’s ... just like Malfoy.”

“Don’t be silly. She wouldn’t have been able to pretend her parents are magical. I read everything I could, and I still didn’t know everything.”

Harry was pretty sure Hermione had actually known enough to pretend to have magical parents. But she hadn’t tried. “Why would my mum not have told him she’s muggleborn? She wouldn’t even have known there’s people who are, like, you know, racists about it.”

“Your mum never was ashamed of being muggleborn, Harry. Everyone knew. And Professor Snape wouldn’t ever ... see, I know he’s strict an’ all, but he sure isn’t so shallow as that. And I didn’t say it was he who didn’t want nothing to do with Lily anymore. Could have been the other way round.”


When they made their way back to the castle, Ron speculated: “Perhaps your mum didn’t want to talk to him anymore when he stopped washing his hair. That would explain it.”

“Or perhaps she noticed boys are stupid”, Ginny grumbled.

“Hey, I heard that!”

“Stop fighting, please?” Perhaps it was normal for siblings, but Harry found it rather tiresome.

“She started it!”

“Oh, stop it!” Hermione seemed rather fed up, too. “Ron, how about being serious about this, for once? We are talking about Harry’s mum here. If she had a falling out with someone, it would have been something more important than ... than ... hair care!”


At lunch, Dumbledore announced that, since the monster had been defeated, Hogwarts would not be closed, but all lessons until the end of year would be cancelled to let everyone recover from the attacks, and so that those who wished to could attend Lockhart’s funeral in Hogsmeade.

“Those who are to take their OWLs or NEWTs this year likely have enough knowledge squeezed into their heads already, but for those of you who prefer to learn everything shortly before exams and promptly empty their heads of it after, your lessons will be replaced by study time and your professors will be there so that you can ask them questions.”

As with most of Dumbledore’s slightly crazy speeches, this one got a lot of applause, too.


Those who hadn’t known any student who had been attacked by the basilisk were ecstatic, the others rather less so – and a lot of girls looked like they really mourned Lockhart.

Harry felt rather conflicted about it. On one hand, he had not liked the man at all. On the other ... you just didn’t expect that someone was killed by a monster. That was not supposed to happen.

Hermione seemed to feel the same, judging from the thoughtful look on her face.

When she announced she would go to the library, Ron told her she must be mad. “We don’t have any more lessons! Our exams don’t matter!”

“There is always next year. Better to get ahead of my studies, now. I only have access to the standard school books and the ones I can afford to buy over the summer holidays, in case you have forgotten.”

“No worries, Ron. I’ll go with her and make sure she doesn’t forget dinner”, Harry said, joining her.

And he really would do that. Of course. So it wasn’t lying, was it?

Still, there was a reason he went with her – the library was a good place to talk, as there wouldn’t be anyone there other than them and a few Ravenclaws, and Madam Pince would shush them if they talked loud enough to be overheard, so they’d not accidentally talk too loudly.

“My hope of Rose’s mum not being my mum is pretty small, now, isn’t it?” Harry whispered to Hermione when they were hidden behind a bookshelf as far away from Madam Pince’s desk as possible.

“Very”, Hermione agreed. “I just wonder ... Hagrid mentioned they had a falling out, and that must have been before Rose ... if they were just friends before, then made up and suddenly saw each other differently?”

“But she still married my dad.”

“A second falling out? You don’t know what would have happened if, you know, You-Know-Who hadn’t happened ... perhaps your mum couldn’t decide.”

“I don’t know how that’s possible.” His dad looked really nice and handsome, and then ... then there was Snape. Really, it was impossible to imagine that a girl would not know which one to pick.

“Well, I don’t think we can find out anymore without asking him. It seems to have been all hushed up ... of course you could also ask your aunt, she’d know, wouldn’t she?”

Ask Aunt Petunia?

Harry shuddered. The way she reacted when he asked any questions about his parents at all ... “No way, she’d murder me and bury me in her flowerbeds, for sure.”

“Really?” Hermione looked as if she wasn’t sure if he was serious.

“No, not really, probably they’d just lock me in my room for the whole summer or something.

“Just because you asked a question?”

Harry shrugged. “She hates magic, she hates my mum, and she hates women who get pregnant out of wedlock, too. Even if I’m lucky and don’t get punished, I’ll not get any answers out of her, that’s for sure.”

“That’s horrible. Harry, I haven’t gotten around to telling you, with the basilisk and all that, but ... my parents would take you over the summer.”

“Really?”

“Really. I can show you the letter. Just got it yesterday. Professor Dumbledore refused to arrange for it, and they haven’t tried contacting your relatives yet, but I’m sure if we go to Professor Dumbledore and you tell him the truth about everything, he’ll see reason.”

“Dumbledore knows how they are”, Harry said suddenly. He wasn’t sure where that came from. Dumbledore was kind and wise and surely wouldn’t ... but the cupboard had been on his Hogwarts letter.

“Oh, Harry”, Hermione cried out, so loudly Madam Pince shushed them. “Of course you must think it is obvious”, she continued, whispering. “But it isn’t. It took me a while to figure out, and I didn’t even guess at how bad it was before last summer. You are – well, you are just too normal, no one would suspect a thing if they didn’t know you well.”

Normal? He? Harry smiled. “Thanks. But – seriously, Hermione, he must know. Hagrid came to fetch me, and he got so angry at Uncle Vernon he - ” No, he couldn’t risk anyone overhearing the tale of Dudley’s pig tail. Hagrid had said he wasn’t supposed to do that, after all. “Well, he saw them pretty much at their worst, and he wouldn’t hear a word against Dumbledore, of course he would have told him everything.”

Hermione shook her head, her curly hair flying in all directions. “Professor Dumbledore can’t know. He wouldn’t have left you there if he did. Hagrid must have forgotten to tell him – you know how he is – must have slipped his mind.”

“Go and ask him if you have to”, Harry snapped. “He knows!”


When Hermione had left in a huff. Harry just curled up in one of the library’s armchairs and tried to forget he existed.

How could he have been so mean to her? She just wanted to help.

But Dumbledore must know. Everyone always said how wise he was and how he knew nearly everything, and there was the Hogwarts letter, and Hagrid knew, and it just was impossible to imagine that Dumbledore did not know.

Still, after having had some time to calm down, Harry allowed himself to hope. The Dursleys didn’t want him anyway. If he got Hermione to tell them he’d been killed by the basilisk, they’d be overjoyed.

Did they really need Dumbledore’s help? Sure, it might be difficult to take him out of the country, they had needed all those documents that Dumbledore must have gotten them with magic, but they could always leave him at the Burrow for a couple weeks ... and one of the Weasley parents might be able to do the magic to get his documents? Mr. Weasley didn’t seem to have a problem with using some loopholes in the laws ...


“Oh Harry, I’m so sorry.”

He started. “Hermione? What happened?”

“Come outside, I have to yell for a bit.” Her voice was just a bit too loud for the library.

Harry got up and followed her out. “He does know, right?”

“Oh, I just can’t believe the nerve of him!” Hermione raged. “I told him about your cousin feeding you rat poison and how your relatives never talk about your parents and how they locked you in your room and all – and he said – he said –” Hermione took a deep breath. “They’re Harrys only living family, and I am sure, deep down, they love him very much”, she continued, in a mocking, sugary-sweet voice. “How can he? After all you have done for the world – including him! Without you, he couldn’t sit there and munch lemon drops, the stupid old - ” Hermione interrupted herself. “Anyway, I haven’t given up.”

“Yeah, I can put on my invisibility cloak at King’s Cross, and you tell the Dursleys the basilisk offed me. They’ll be happy, and I can go where I want.”

“No, that won’t work. Dumbledore admitted, sort of, that he’s keeping track of you. He said it to get me to shut up, I think. Said there’s someone who’d inform him if you were in any grave danger. And I – oh Harry, I’m so sorry, but I actually didn’t even yell at him! I just ... I couldn’t ...”

“Couldn’t bring yourself to yell at the headmaster?” Of course, she was still Hermione. That she was raging against Dumbledore now was more than he had expected. “It’s okay. You tried.”



“No, it is not, at all, okay. I need some time to make a new plan, but I will think of something.”

They went back to the Gryffindor common room, and Hermione told Ron what she had tried to do, and the both of them spent all the time until dinner complaining about Dumbledore.

Harry knew he would have to go back to the Dursleys – if Dumbledore wanted it, there was no way to change it – but at least, until then, he had great friends to spend his time with.

There was so much to think about, and his thoughts were so jumbled that Harry almost would have forgotten about visiting Luna.

Ginny hadn’t, though. She ate almost nothing for breakfast before she got up and announced she would go visit Luna.

“Do you want to talk to her alone?” Hermione asked.

“No, I –” Ginny stared at her feet. “It would be better if someone else was there, too. Just in case she’s angry and tries to hex me ...”

“Does she usually do that?”

“No, it’s just ... I’d deserve it, really. And Tom might have convinced her she ought to take revenge. He tried that with me.”

“Who do you have to get revenge on?”, Ron asked, around a piece of toast he was shoving into his mouth.

“Fred and George, mostly. But it doesn’t really matter.”

They all walked to the Hospital Wing, Ron eating his toast while walking, Harry discreetly took crumbs of toast out of his pocket and swallowed them, and Hermione ... Hermione either had managed to eat enough before, or wasn’t that hungry.

Harry wasn’t that hungry, yet, either, but living with the Dursleys had taught him to not forego a meal if not absolutely necessary – you didn’t know if you would be getting the next one.

Madam Pomfrey fortunately was willing to let them see Luna. “Only ten minutes”, she said sternly. “And don’t do anything to upset her.”


She led them to a room off the main corridor. “Ten minutes. And no loud talking.”


Luna was sitting up in bed and reading a book. She looked at them with large blue eyes. “Hello. Why are you here?”

Stunned silence ensued, until Hermione finally said: “To see how you are, of course. When we left yesterday, you were unconscious.”

“Yes.” Luna blinked. “I just wonder why you care.”

That made Ginny burst into tears, but Harry didn’t think Luna had done that intentionally. She sounded just like Harry might have sounded if, instead of Dumbledore, it had been the Dursleys who had visited him after his fight against Voldemort last year.

“Ginny is very sorry she, uh, wasn’t so nice to you before”, Harry explained.

“Oh. So that was not a dream?”

“You heard her apologize?” Hermione asked, while Ginny seemed to hope the floor would open and swallow her.

“Yes. She was there at the platform.”

“Platform?”

“I was waiting for a train”, Luna recalled in a dreamy voice. “It was snowing and I was waiting at Hogsmeade station to take the train back home to mum.” She smiled. “I was sick, so sick I had to go home, and I felt terrible, but I knew it would all be over when I got home. The train wasn’t on time – I waited for a very long time, and then suddenly she was there and apologized.”

“What happened next?”, Ron asked, horrified fascination clear on his face.

“The train came”, Luna recalled. “I wasn’t feeling so bad anymore, but I still wanted to see mum, and perhaps I would have gotten onto the train, but then, Professor Snape was there and asked me why I didn’t have my cloak.”

“Sounds like him”, Ron commented.

Luna nodded. “I told him I must have forgotten and he gave me his, and then he said I had to come back to the castle because my father was waiting for me. Then I woke up.”

“That’s interesting”, Hermione mused. “There were a lot of people standing around and talking, but you really only noticed Ginny’s apology.” She frowned. “Wait – Snape actually talked to you like you were really at a train station in the winter?”

Luna nodded. “He probably can enter dreams.”

“I never heard of that!” Ron exclaimed.

“It would be a fairly rare skill” Hermione commented. “I recall reading something about Native American people being able to do that, sometimes, but there aren’t any books on it in the library.

“Oh, there is a lot more to magic than what you can find in the library”, Luna said, her eyes lighting up like Hermione’s did when she was talking about something that fascinated her. “Here – dad brought me a copy of the Quibbler, I read it already, you can have it.”

Hermione took the magazine and looked at it. “Oh. That is – thank you very much, Luna. Are you sure you don’t need it anymore, for re-reading?”

“Don’t mention it. Dad has tons at home.”

Luna told them her father was actually the editor of that magazine, but before she could go into more detail, Madam Pomfrey appeared and told them their time was up.

“I’m not so sure about this magazine”, Hermione said while they walked back to Gryffindor tower. “They don’t really quote any reliable sources, and it does look a bit like conspiracy theories ...”

“It is all nonsense”, Ginny said. “That’s why everyone makes fun of her. She’s a bit ... strange.”

She was, but that didn’t make it okay to bully her.

And Harry suddenly realized that there hadn’t been any get-well-cards on her nightstand. No gifts, nothing, just the magazine her father had brought.

**

Hermione was quiet all day, but didn’t go to the library, just sat in a corner in the common room, deep in thought.

On the way back from lunch, she finally told Harry and Ron what she had been thinking about. “Harry, I think I know a way to get you away from your relatives, but ... you won’t like it.”

“Are you kidding me? I’d do everything to get away from them. Well, except dying for real, I suppose.”

Hermione grimaced. “That’s good. Because we will have to tell Professor Snape what they did.”

“What? Are you insane?”, Ron protested.

“No, listen, he was really helpful when – when Harry had a problem a while ago. And he won’t tell us that Harry’s relatives really love him, because he doesn’t think like that. He said everyone would bully Luna even worse if they knew she’s unhappy about it, do you remember?”

“Still, a plan that involves Snape can’t be good.”

“Oh yeah? Do you have a better plan?”

“I’ll come up with one! Just so you know! Fred and George will have an idea – see you, Harry.” Ron hurried to catch up with his older brothers.

“Not so sure a plan involving those two is any better”, Hermione mumbled.

“Hey, they did get me away from the Dursleys last year.”

“Yes, but Dumbledore would never listen to them. We need a teacher. Please, Harry, you don’t have to come, just say I can tell Professor Snape.”

“No! Whatever you do, don’t tell Snape! He’ll ...” Harry didn’t want to imagine what Snape would do with that kind of knowledge. Humiliate him, for sure.

“Give you detention?”, a familiar, much-hated voice asked.

Of course, Snape was right behind them!

“What is Miss Granger not supposed to tell me, Potter?”

Harry turned around to defiantly stare at Snape. “Nothing!”

“Ah. Then she may tell me everything?”

“No! I mean, there is nothing to tell!”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “Miss Granger, as I know how dearly you wish to really know everything, I suggest a deal. If you tell me Potter’s secret, I shall give you the answer to one question you have. Any question of your choosing.”

“Any question at all? You promise, sir?”

“Any question, provided I actually know the answer and it is nothing the law forbids me to tell you. Now?”

Hermione looked at Harry. Did she think he would change his opinion?

Then it hit him – that was their opportunity to find out about his mum! He nodded slightly, hoping Snape wouldn’t see.

“Perhaps we should talk in your office, sir. It is a secret, after all.”

“Hey! You just sell me out for one answer?” Harry complained, doing his best to pretend to be offended.

“Very well. Potter, come along. I have a suspicion I will wish to talk to you after Miss Granger tells me your secret.”

Harry very much didn’t want to be there when Snape found out about the Dursleys – he would like at least a break before Snape started making fun of him for it – but on the other hand, he did want to be there when Hermione confronted Snape about Lily Evans. Snape might lie, or refuse to answer despite his promise, but Harry hoped he would be able to tell what the truth was, from Snape’s reaction alone.

They entered the office, and Harry felt suppressed memories float to the front of his conscious. He had told Snape he was in love with Lockhart! How had he even survived the shame?

“Now, Miss Granger?”

“After the love potion incident”, Hermione began, and Harry flinched. “Harry said he couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about, because he had had worse happen to him.”

Curiously, Snape paled. “Explain.”

“Well, he told me his cousin had tricked him into drinking rat poison that made his nose bleed for days after.”

“Hm. And his aunt did nothing about it?”

Harry wanted to yell at Snape that he was standing right there, but then, Snape might actually talk to him, and he’d rather not risk that.

“That’s what shocked me so, sir, he said his aunt and uncle were probably proud of their son for doing that.”

“Ah. You investigated further, I presume?”

“Yes, sir. I asked Harry about other things his cousin did, and the other thing was just his cousin bullying a snake at the zoo, but then, Harry freed the snake with accidental magic. And he told me he was locked in his cupboard for weeks after for doing that.”

“His cupboard?”

“He said that was just what they called his room because it was so small, sir, but ...”

Hermione, you traitor! Harry seethed silently, not wanting to draw any more of Snape’s attention.

“You don’t believe him?”

“Not really, sir. And even if, it doesn’t matter. They put bars on the windows of his new room, and ...” She frowned. “Harry, didn’t Ron or his brothers tell their parents they had to rescue you?”

Harry wasn’t sure. “I think they mentioned the Dursleys had starved me, but ...”

“Starved you?”, Snape asked quietly. “Explain.”

“I was just exaggerating”, Harry said, his stubborn pride winning out. “I got a tin of soup each day.”

“Soup”, Snape repeated with a blank expression. “What kind of soup?”

“Tomato soup, soup with vegetables, you know the like.”

“I see.”

“That’s something I can’t prove, sir, but I can prove that Harry didn’t have any decent clothes when he spent the easter holidays with my family. It was all castoffs of his cousin’s, and .... there’s nothing wrong with second hand clothes as such, but Harry’s cousin is double his size and I don’t know what sports he’s doing, but they were pretty much all in a terrible state. We gave him some clothes of my cousin’s, so you wouldn’t have seen.”

Snape nodded. “What sports is your cousin into, Potter?”

Harry shrugged. “Beating up younger children, mostly. He doesn’t really do any regular sports other than boxing. Uncle Vernon insisted that he learns how to ride a bike, but after his stunt went awry, I haven’t seen him on one ever again.”

“Stunt?”

“He tried to jump over a car with it. Trouble is, it was a neighbours car. The insurance paid out, but I don’t think Mr. Jones from across the road ever forgave him.” In fact, Mr Jones had allowed Harry to hide from Dudley between his prize-winning giant broccolies a couple times after that – he still somewhat believed the Dursleys’ lies about Harry being a troublemaker, but had told Harry that he would always be on the side of the boy who hadn’t done any damage to his property. “Mr. Jones was there to witness it, so they couldn’t blame it on me.”

“They usually do that?”

“If there’s no witnesses? All the time. It’s still their insurance that has to pay for the damage, but I suppose they just prefer everyone to think their little Duddikins is perfect.” Even though he usually tried to not think of the Dursleys, it felt surprisingly good to be able to talk about them.

“I see. Back to your clothes, Potter, it appears you do have a new set of robes.”

“Yeah, I bought those myself.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “With your allowance?”

Allowance? Oh, right. Normal children apparently got that sort of thing. “No, sir. With the money my parents left me.”

“And you did not think to buy some muggle clothes with that?”

Right, you could exchange galleons against muggle money. The Grangers had done it. “Why? I only wear muggle clothes when I stay with the Dursleys, and they’d probably think I stole something if I turned up with clothes that fit me.”

“Surely, you did not wear robes to your muggle school before you went to Hogwarts?”

Harry frowned. Snape was being intentionally dense. “Back then I had no idea my parents had left me any money. Or that they could do magic.”

“Is that so?” Snape turned and walked to his fireplace, threw some floo powder in, and called Dumbledore.

The headmaster stepped out of the fire just the same as last time. “Something about this situation feels familiar”, he said blithely. “What is the matter?”

“The matter is”, Snape informed him tartly. “That Petunia Dursley is not fit to take care of a child.”

“That again? Severus, if you would just get past your prejudice - ”

“No, Albus, this time we are not talking about Petunia spoiling her nephew. This time we talk about how she encourages her own son to feed rat poison to his cousin.” Snape was almost yelling now.

“Now, now, Severus, I know how it must look to you, but all siblings fight sometimes. Harry is obviously still with us.”

“Sir, I told you everything – how can you not see Harry has to get away from them?”, Hermione blurted out.

“Do you agree with her, Harry? You haven’t said anything”, Dumbledore asked gently, and Harry felt a glimmer of hope.

“Yes, sir, I’d like to live with the Grangers.”

“I will see to it that you can spend part of the holidays there. It is pretty much impossible, legally, to get a child away from his blood relatives, you see, but - ”

“You are Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Don’t give us any of that nonsense!”, Snape cut in.

“Ah, Severus. I am heartened to see you be so passionate about Harry’s wellbeing. We shall discuss it later. For now, I have urgent matters to attend to, I’m afraid.” He turned to Harry. “Rest assured, I will have a little chat with your aunt and uncle. Now, enjoy your free time at Hogwarts!”

Harry didn’t respond. He didn’t feel able to speak. Stunned, he watched Dumbledore vanish in the floo again.

“I’m sorry, sir, I should have told you – I already tried talking to the headmaster.”

“That is quite alright, Miss Granger. I would hardly have believed it had I not witnessed it myself.” Snape paced around the office. “Now, I do keep my promises. What was the question you wanted an answer for?”

“As it is Harry’s secret, I think he should get to choose the question.”

Harry had relied on Hermione, and found himself at a loss. “No, you know what I need to know, please, you are better at – at wording things.” Wording things in a way so that Snape couldn’t find a loophole, especially.

“No, I’m not – not really.” Hermione sighed. “Alright. Professor Snape, why did you never tell Harry that you are the father of his half-sister?”

Snape didn’t look shocked at all. Had he known they would ask that?

“Because I am not”, he replied calmly.

“Because I am not”, he replied calmly.

“But - ” Hermione started, no doubt about to mention the birth certificate, but caught herself. “You were friends with Harry’s mother at school, and Rose has her eyes, too, and she has to have had Rose while she was still in school.”

“That is all correct. Nevertheless, I am, regrettably, not Rose’s father. Potter, are you sure you wish to know the truth?”

“Of course!”

“It will not be to your liking, and, perhaps, not appropriate for your age, even.”

“There’s nothing that could be worse than what we know already!” Snape and his mother? Seriously, how could it get any worse than that?

“Very well, then. I suppose you have a right to know. Sit down.” Snape gestured to the chairs in front of his desk, where Harry and Ron had sat after arriving at Hogwarts with the flying car.

Reluctantly, Harry sat down. Hermione pulled the other chair close to his and sat down. “Is it that bad, sir?”

“Very. There is a reason I did not tell Rose. Yes, Miss Granger, I know you have been corresponding with her.” Snape buried his face in his hands for a moment. “Perhaps it is best to start with the plain facts. Rose’s biological father is Gilderoy Lockhart.”

That couldn’t be! Lockhart was such an empty-headed idiot – well, had been, and even if it wasn’t nice to say bad things about the dead, Harry couldn’t help thinking it. In any case, his mum surely would never ever, in the history of ever ... but then, Hermione had had a crush on the man ...

On Hermione’s face, though, there was only nameless horror.“Did he use a love potion?”

Snape’s only answer was a nod.

Harry felt nausea rise in his throat. Had Lockhart planned the same with him? But ... why? “Why?!”

“I cannot answer that”, Snape said at last, his voice sounding strangely hoarse. “She was head girl and a member of an exclusive club for gifted students the potions teacher hosted. He might have wished to create a ... permanent association with her to further his own career.”

“How did he know she wouldn’t get an abortion?”, Hermione asked.

“There is little doubt that he planned to keep her under his thrall until that was out of the question. I managed to give her an antidote in time, but ...” Snape turned his face away, hiding behind his greasy hair.

“It was too late to legally get an abortion?”

Snape looked at Hermione, his eyes narrow. “You know rather a lot about such things, for your age.”

Hermione shrugged. “I read my mother’s feminist books.”

“Ah.” That seemed to be a sufficient explanation for Snape, his features softened. “Lily was a feminist, too. And there would have been time. But after Madam Pomfrey told her she was expecting a little girl ... I begged her to reconsider, but she said she just could not go through with it. So I did what I could to limit the damage.”

“But why didn’t she get Rose back after she finished school?” He would have noticed an older sister on the family photos.

“Because at the time Lockhart attacked her, she was already going out with James Potter. I told her he wasn’t worthy of her love if he blamed her, but in vain. Rose was kept a shameful secret”, Snape said, gently, as if ... as if he felt bad for Rose.

And suddenly, it hit Harry. “You’ve hated me!”, he yelled. “You have hated me all this time because of who my dad is, but Rose – Rose –” His throat went tight and he couldn’t speak anymore. Tears streamed down his cheeks without him being able to stop them.

“Rose is legally my daughter.” Snape said quietly.

That wasn’t any comfort at all. To think that it was more or less coincidence that Rose had a father who cared about her and Harry had nothing -

Snape pushed something over the table towards him. A handkerchief.

It was Hermione who took it and gently placed it in Harry’s hands. “Harry has a point, sir.”

“Apologizing won’t do any good, now, will it?” Snape replied brusquely. “Now, if you would excuse me, I have to talk to the headmaster.”

“Didn’t he say he had urgent matters to attend to?”

“Do I look like I care, Miss Granger? After what he did, listening to me is the least he can do. You may remain here until Mr. Potter has composed himself, provided that you don’t touch anything.”

And with that, he vanished through the floo, too.

“I’m so sorry”, Hermione said. “I had no idea – I honestly thought your mum just had a relationship with Professor Snape –”

“And I thought it couldn’t get worse than that”, Harry said glumly, his voice hoarse from crying. “Now I wish that had been it.”

They sat there, none of them saying another word, for quite some time.

**

Severus stepped into the office. “You asked me to protect the boy. How am I supposed to do that when you willingly throw him in harm’s way?”

Dumbledore looked up from reading documents, obviously nothing urgent at all. “I would never do that, Severus.”

“The Dursleys, Albus. You were all too happy to let me believe the boy was being spoiled. But you know. You have known all this time. Explain yourself.” Severus was ready to kill the old man. He hoped there was a good explanation, but how could there be? How could there be a good reason to leave the Boy Who Lived with such a family?

Dumbledore nodded calmly. “As you know, Lily’s sacrifice protects Harry from Voldemort and his followers. But – and that is the problem here – only as long as he lives where her blood is still alive.”

“Her blood is alive in him! Lily was not a bee. Her sister is not more related to her than her own child!”

For a moment, the bit about bees confused Dumbledore, Severus saw with satisfaction. “It is how the magic works, I am afraid. There needs to be another blood relative besides Harry.”

“How about we place him in a foster family together with his cousin?”

“His cousin would be sufficient, but we have no grounds to remove Dudley from his family’s care. He seems to be a rather spoilt boy, but the harm to his character will not make a sufficient case for the muggle authorities.” Dumbledore folded his hands. “I admit that I have considered using my influence to ... but would I still be better than Voldemort if I did that? I will certainly remind Petunia of what she owes her sister, but ...”

“Suppose Harry had another blood relative? One you did not know about?”

“I am sorry, Severus, but there is no one. I studied both family trees for hours when I was informed that Petunia never treated him as her own. Improbable as it seems, there are no estranged aunts, uncles or cousins. Both sets of grandparents only had the children we know of.”

“Suppose Harry had a half-sister.”

Dumbledore was stubborn, eccentric, foolish at times, but never stupid. “Your ‘personal matters’? A child? That solves a puzzle. There never was another woman, was there?”

“Never.”

“I thought not, but then, I can be wrong, at times. It appears I was wrong about Lily. She never seemed the type ... or was it before she married James?”


“Yes. A child was impregnated right under your nose. I wonder what the Board of Governors would say to that.” Not that he would ever tell them.

“Not by you, then?” Dumbledore concluded.

“Obviously not. Even if she had – had she had such feelings for me, I would never have put her future at risk like that.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Your vices have always been more of the mind than of the body. And yet ... Lily would not have ... it was rape, was it not?”

Severus inclined his head.

“And she went to you, her old friend ... I admit I am surprised that she did not trust James with it ...”

“Potter? He never forgave me for having been her friend, even, and would have been hot-headed enough in his jealousy to attack the rapist and drag it all into the public. He would never have let her have the baby.” No, Potter would either have blamed Lily, or tried to pretend it had not happened. Rose would not have fit into that.

Not to mention that, had it all been dragged into public, abortion would have been the only way.

“But you did?”

“It was not for me to decide, was it?” He had considered it utter madness to give birth to the child, to a chain that would forever tie her to her rapist. But Lily had wanted it, and he had respected her decision. “Her daughter has always been named Rose.” And once upon a time, Severus had cherished the hope that he might become Rose's father.

“Rose. She does not live with you?”

“No. Originally, Lily wanted to leave her with her parents, but after the car accident ... we found a nice family in France. Rose speaks English, and will be able to translate for Harry if needed.”

“Will they take him in at such short notice? You cannot reveal the real reasons.”

Of course not. It would be preferable if they did not even realize who Harry Potter was, that he was a celebrity. “We will just have to hope that Rose being reunited with her brother is sufficient reason for them.”

Snape returned before long, clearly not having expected them to still be there. “You will not return to the Dursley family, Potter.”

“I get to live with the Grangers?” He could hardly believe it.

“No. The headmaster insists that you stay with a blood relative.”

“But ...”

“I still have to contact Rose’s foster family and talk the details through with them. In any case, you will not be returning to the Dursleys if I have any say in it.”

“I ... thank you, sir.” If Snape really got him away from the Dursleys ...

“Don’t mention it.”

Back in Gryffindor tower, Harry learnt that Ron and the twins had cooked up a very ingenious plan involving, among other things, polyjuice potion they planned to steal somewhere. “Sorry guys”, he said with a big grin. “But that won’t be needed.”

Ron’s jaw almost fell down. “You aren’t saying ... Snape actually helped you?”

“Sort of. I don’t know where they’ll send me, yet, but anything is better than the Dursleys.”

“Doesn’t sound so good. Are you sure Snape isn’t tricking you?”

That caused Hermione to get angry with Ron, and Harry fled to the dormitory in the ensueing discussion.

It felt weird – finally being able to leave the Dursleys behind forever. And he’d live with Rose. Everything would be okay, Snape wouldn’t put Rose with a horrible family, ever.


**

Harry was one of very few male students who attended Lockhart’s funeral in Hogsmeade. He wasn’t exactly sure, why. Perhaps to get some closure.

Some of the teachers were there, and ... “Rose?”

No doubt, the blonde girl next to Snape was none other than Rose Evans.

Rumours, most of them hilariously wrong, already were being traded among the attending students. Not exactly proper behaviour at a funeral, but then, Lockhart really didn’t deserve any better, Harry thought spitefully.

When Rose walked over to Hermione and Harry after the ceremony, everyone stared at them.

“I knew!” Rose cried out as soon as she had reached them. “I knew! That’s why you looked so familiar! You have to tell me everything about our mother!”

“Um, I don’t know that much, either.”

“Of course, but you have photos? I’m sure you do. I only have the ones from when she was a child and with me after my birth.”

“Sure, I’ll show you all the photos I have”, Harry promised.

They couldn’t talk much, as the mass of people now slowly migrated to Hogwarts, and Snape approached to spirit Rose away.

At dinner, though, she was there again, sitting next to Snape at the High Table.

“Attention, please!” Dumbledore hit a spoon against his goblet. “I am well aware there have been rumours about Professor Snape, concerning his sudden absence at the beginning of this year. I shall now give the word to him so he can clear up the misunderstandings.”

Snape cleared his throat, gestured for Rose to get up, and said: “To put to rest the ridiculous rumours: This is Rose Evans, she is my ward and I had to urgently visit her because she had been in a life-threatening potions accident. She is visiting Hogwarts for a few days to get an idea of whether or not she wishes to spend her two remaining years of school here.”

Rose smiled shily.

Dumbledore spoke again, gently reminding everyone that Rose was a guest and they ought to be on their best behaviour.

A reminder that was probably sorely needed, considering she was, well, Snape’s ward.

Rose walked over to Gryffindor table when she had finished her meal. “Harry, I’ve got great news for you!” She was bobbing up and down on her toes, clearly excited to tell him whatever she had to tell.

“Wait.” Snape appeared behind her like a shadow. “I think it is best that I talk to Mr. Potter in private.”

“But - ” Rose protested.

“He already knows he will be living with you, so don’t worry, I won’t ruin that particular surprise. Follow me to my office, Mr. Potter.”

“Yeah – don’t worry.” Harry tried to give Rose a cheerful smile, but he didn’t much feel like it. Surely, Snape wouldn’t prevent Rose from relaying the good news just to ruin her fun. Not with Rose. So perhaps the news weren’t all that good?

Would he have to switch to Beauxbatons if he lived with Rose’s foster family? But then, she had said she might want to spend a year at Hogwarts ...

Spending the summer holidays in France would be a bit scary, what with not speaking the language, but if Rose was there, he could deal with it. Not like the Dursleys talked to him a whole lot – not things he wanted to understand, anyway.

Suddenly, Snape stopped and opened a door. Oh, right, his office.

Harry followed him inside. The door fell shut behind them with an ominous loud noise.


Snape cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, Rose’s foster parents were not willing to take on another foster child.”

The first thing Harry felt was anger at himself for getting his hopes up. Then it was anger at Snape. “You said I wouldn’t have to go back to the Dursleys!”

“I keep my promises. Rose generously offered to move in with me, so that I would be able to foster you.”

Harry stared at Snape. “You?”

“Did you not say you wanted to be treated the same as Rose?”

“As if you ever would!” Again, tears were welling up in his eyes. He didn’t understand. He had always had himself well under control with the Dursleys, and usually, with Snape, too, and now he was becoming a crybaby.

Snape stepped closer.

Harry flinched. Another thing he didn’t usually do at school – teachers didn’t hit you. He stubbornly glared at Snape’s chest, unwilling to look up.

Somehow, suddenly, Snape was looking Harry straight in the eyes. He didn’t seem so tall anymore. “I do not think you would want me to treat you like Rose.”

He balled his hands into fists. “Oh really? And why the hell not?”

“Because I would never let her cry”, Snape said softly.

“Not like you could stop me!” He was sobbing now and it was terribly embarrassing, but he’d not let Snape win. Harry took off his glasses and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

A gentle hand was placed on his shoulder.“Hush, child.”

Suddenly, there were no hot tears streaming down his face anymore, as they were soaked up by the soft black fabric his face rested against. Arms were wrapped around him, vaguely reminding him of the time Hermione had hugged him last year.

It made him cry all the more.

After what seemed like hours, the tears finally stopped coming, and he freed himself of the embrace.

Snape handed him a handkerchief.

Harry stared at the handkerchief for a few moments, then he turned and ran, only stopping when he was far away from the dungeons.

Had he really thrown himself at Snape and cried like a baby?

He entered a boys’ toilet and looked into the mirror over the sinks. His eyes were red-rimmed. Yes, it must really have happened.

Using the handkerchief and some cold water, he dabbed at his eyes until they didn’t look so bad anymore.

Unwilling to answer Hermione’s and Ron’s questions, he wandered the castle for a while, only stopping when he heard angry voices.

“... cancel the lessons just because you were too incompetent to stop the attacks!”

Was that Lucius Malfoy? Harry flattened himself against the wall, hiding behind a tapestry.

“You were not so concerned about your son’s education when you smuggled this into Miss Weasley’s school supplies, were you?” Dumbledore.

“I have no idea what you are talking about”, Malfoy said haughtily. “Wait – let me take a look – least you can do - ”

“Gladly. I do think it is yours originally, is it not?”

“Nonsense. It is an interesting antiquity, though ... very well ... I will tell the Board of Governors to leave you alone in exchange for it ...”

Dumbledore chuckled. “Very well, Lucius. I know I will not be able to make anything stick.”

“Yes, yes.” Fast steps, fortunately Malfoy must be walking away from where Harry stood.

Harry had just stepped out of his hiding place when he heard a loud cry of triumph. “Master gave Dobby a hairband! Dobby is a free elf!”

Now, Harry started running.

When he arrived, Lucius Malfoy had left. Dobby the house elf still stood there, grinning, tears of joy in his large eyes.

“What happened?” Harry asked him.

“Master found this in the diary”, Dobby explained, holding out a hairband that might have been blue once upon a time, but now was covered in blood and dirt. “He threw it away and Dobby caught it. It is a hairband. Someone used it as bookmark, but it still is a hairband, and a hairband is clothes and Dobby is free!”

“That’s great, Dobby!” It must be Luna’s. “I think the girl who left it in the book is still in the hospital wing. Perhaps you want to visit her?” Luna seemed to like strange creatures. She would probably be cheered up by seeing a house elf.

“Do you think she will want it back?” Dobby’s face creased with worry.

“No, not once you tell her how happy you are to have it. She’s very generous. In fact, she might even have left it there so someone could find it and be happy about it.” He really hoped he hadn’t taken away Dobby’s freedom by telling him the hairband already had an owner.

“Dobby will go and ask her.” And with that, and a loud noise, the house elf disappeared.

Suspecting that it was close to or already past curfew, Harry walked back to Gryffindor Tower. As he had feared, Hermione and Ron wanted to know what Snape had told him.

“The good news is, I don’t have to go back to the Dursleys”, Harry said slowly. “The bad news is ....” He looked around, but no one but Ron and Hermione was standing close enough to overhear. “I have to live with Snape.”

“What?!”

“Hush, Ron, Harry doesn’t want everyone to know.” Hermione seemed rather unsurprised. “So Rose will live with him?”

“Yeah.” Ron looked confused, so he added: “Turns out Rose is my half sister. Dumbledore wants me to live with relatives, so ...”

“But ... Snape! Is that really better than those muggles?”, Ron whispered.

“I reckon he won’t starve me, so, yeah.” Perhaps he would be disemboweling frogs all summer, but all in all ... if he got Rose instead of Dudley, that was more than worth it.

**

The next morning, Harry had just finished breakfast when Rose turned up at the Gryffindor table again.

“Why isn’t she at Slytherin table”, someone hissed. Harry turned but couldn’t make out who had said it.

“Oooch, Harry has an admirer!” Fred cooed.

George winked at him. “Don’t make the lady wait.”

“Oh, stop it.” Harry got up and followed Rose out of the Great Hall. “Sorry. Fred and George are always like that.”

“The twins? It’s okay, they are funny. But ... some of the others seem to outright hate me.”

“Yeah.” Harry stared at his feet in Dudley’s old shoes as they walked through the corridor. “Thing is ... Snape is really, really unpopular.”


“I noticed”, Rose said glumly. “Of course I knew he can get very angry, and he’s grumpy when he’s in a bad mood, but ...”

“To be honest, I couldn’t believe how nice he is to you”, Harry admitted. “Almost a different person.”

“But he can only be one person”, Rose protested. “And ... it’s just ... he’s always there. When I’m sick or injured or anything. He apparates all the way to France. I just thought ... he’s a head of house, I would have thought he’d be the same with his students.”

His students. “Slytherin? I guess. He always favours them.”

That didn’t seem to be the answer Rose had hoped for. “Harry ... do you really hate him?”

If it had been Ron who asked, Harry wouldn’t have hesitated. Now, though ... “Not exactly. I just ... don’t like him much.”

“But you will still come live with us, will you?”

Harry stared at her. What? He had a choice about that?

“Uncle Sev says you hate him and won’t ever live with us and that we’ll have to find a foster family who can take us both, but that’s just him being gloomy ... is it?”

He had said Harry hated him? So he was trying to make this all Harry’s fault? No chance. “Yeah. Don’t worry. It’s ... it’s really nice of you to do this for me. I wouldn’t ask you to go live with strangers.” Snape couldn’t be possibly be worse than the Dursleys. He could deal with it. “Why can’t your foster parents take me, too, though?”

Rose shrugged. “They do emergency foster care. Every time a new child arrives, it’s all about the new child, and with a new baby, they probably thought they couldn’t give you the attention you need.”

That was it? The Weasleys seemed to manage just fine with seven children – except that Mrs. Weasley forgot what Ron liked and didn’t like ... maybe not that fine, but Harry ate pretty much everything and wouldn’t mind an ugly sweater once in a while. “I wouldn’t mind, really, I’m used to pretending I don’t exist.” Which was plenty better than the Dursleys actually paying attention to him. “What about you? Do you get enough attention?”

She hesitated. “I’m old enough to look after myself. And I am not from an abusive home.” The last bit sounded rather like she was quoting someone. “Also, I always have Uncle Sev.”

Yes she did. Unlike Harry who didn’t have anyone ... no, he wasn’t going to cry again. “Yeah.”

“You will give him a chance, will you?”

“If he gives me one.” Not likely.

Rose smiled happily as if it didn’t even occur to her that Snape might be the problem. “Thank you!” She turned towards him, opened her arms and hesitated. “Is it okay if I hug you?”

“Sure.”

She threw her arms around him, squeezed him and dashed off to tell Snape the ‘good news’.

Ha. As if. But Hermione was right - it was nice to have a sister.

He had stood around there all alone for mere moments when a noise made him look up. “Dobby?”

The house elf looked much better now. Instead of his old pillowcase, he now wore something that looked like it had originally been a shawl. It was a deep blue and seemed to be fairly new. “Thanks to Harry Potter, Dobby found a new family.”

“What? I thought ... aren’t you free?”

“Dobby still wants to work”, the elf explained. “But Dobby wants to get paid now, and Dobby thought no family would be willing to pay, but - Miss Luna is very generous, indeed.“

It turned out that the Lovegoods would pay Dobby almost nothing, because they couldn’t afford much, but he didn’t seem to mind, as long as he did get paid.

“Dobby has to leave now”, the house elf finally said. “Dobby promised to find all of Miss Luna’s belongings and there are many hidden in the castle.”

Before Harry could ask why Luna’s things would be all over the castle – she seemed a bit absent-minded, but surely someone would have noticed her things lying around – Dobby disappeared.

Huh.

“Here you are!”

Harry turned around. Ron, and a few steps behind, Hermione. Now, at least, he had something to tell them that wasn’t about having to live with Snape. “You remember the house elf I told you about?”

He told them all about Dobby while they walked to Gryffindor tower.

It was a pleasant, warm day, and they decided to go down to the lake. Not long after they had settled there, playing exploding snap, they were joined by Rose.

To Harry’s relief she didn’t want to talk about their new living arrangements, but mainly about Hogwarts.

“... not so sure this house system is a good idea. The only people, except you, of course, who will talk to me are in Slytherin, and they say such nasty things about Gryffindor. Uncle Sev told me about that, but I thought it was just a bit of competition who wins at Quidditch, not like ... that.”

“It is supposed to be our family in Hogwarts”, Hermione explained. “The idea is that the houses will stick together. But I can’t say it really works.”

“We do stick together”, Ron protested.

“That is after I got attacked by a troll”, Hermione reminded him.

Ron had the decency to blush. “We did come to help you, didn’t we?”

“And I don’t think the Ravenclaws are very nice to Luna. Ginny says she is trying to get them to give her things back, but some of them have forgotten where they hid them.” Hermione frowned. “It is probably not the best system, but I don’t think it can be changed, since the founders themselves wanted it so. Have you decided yet whether you will spend a year here?”

Rose nodded. “I totally will! I have to go back for the exams, so I’m leaving tomorrow morning, but I will be back next year. Madame Maxime, our headmistress, says I can always come back if I don’t like it here, but I don’t think I will, she’d be so smug. The Slytherins are nice enough, and I only have to see everyone else in class.”

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. “The Slytherins might not like you anymore when they notice you are friends with us”, Harry pointed out.

“They will just have to deal with it.”

“Bullying can get rather violent, though.” Hermione turned a page in the book she was reading. “And you can’t be sure you will be sorted into Slytherin, can you? Didn’t you want to go to Ravenclaw originally?”

“That was before I knew ...” Rose bit her lip. “Before I knew that people would be so nasty. I suppose I will be sorted in the same house my guardian was in. That normally happens, doesn’t it?”

“No, it goes after who your parents are”, Ron said. “Harry’s mum and dad were in Gryffindor. His stupid relatives weren’t at Hogwarts at all, so ...”

“Slytherin or Gryffindor, then”, Rose said curtly. She sounded almost like Snape. “What about another round of exploding snap?”

All too sudden, the year was over and they took the horseless carriages to Hogsmeade station.

“Is this seat taken?”

Harry looked up. It was Luna Lovegood. “No, you can sit with us.”

She smiled at him and climbed into the carriage.

“It is weird”, she said when the carriages started to move. “In the dream I had, you know which one, there were no carriages. I had to walk all the way, and it was so cold.”

“You were lying on the stone floor when we found you”, Hermione pointed out. “Your brain probably noticed that it was cold and made up an explanation for that.”

“Oh.” Luna smiled. “That must have been it.” She looked at Hermione for a while. “You are really clever.”

Hermione looked extremely pleased. “Uh, thank you? I’m sure you are too, I mean, you got sorted into Ravenclaw.”

“I don’t think I could brew Polyjuice potion”, Luna said in a dreamy voice.

As if it was common knowledge.

“Did Myrtle tell you?”, Hermione asked cautiously.

“No, I saw you in the hospital wing a while ago. You accidentally used a cat hair, didn’t you? It is so annoying if you get everything else right, and then get such an easy thing wrong.”

“It is”, Hermione agreed. “How do you know about polyjuice potion?”

Luna shrugged. “I read Most Potente Potions while I had to stay in the hospital wing.”

“That’s in the Restricted Section! How did you get it?”

“I know, I wanted to read it all year. It was on my nightstand when I woke up”, Luna replied, as if that was something that happened to her every day.

“But ... but ... that’s a dangerous book, if someone just left it on your nightstand ...” Hermione sounded confused, but also a bit jealous.

“Madam Pomfrey put it there, of course”, Luna explained patiently. “She said it was anonymous, but she muttered to herself about it being a very strange idea of a get well card and very typical, so I suppose Professor Snape left it for me.”

Snape. Shit.

Harry had known he was forgetting something. He had not talked to Snape about summer. In fact, he had not talked to the man at all. They didn’t have lessons, so there had been no reason ....

“Is something wrong, Harry?”

He hesitated. Luna didn’t have to know about this ... “I just wondered ... if no one turns up to fetch me at King’s Cross ...”

“You can always come with us”, Ron offered.”

“But I am sure that won’t happen”, Hermione added.

“My father forgets a lot of things, but I’m sure he wouldn’t forget me”, Luna mused. “Not for long, anyway. And you have an owl, so you don’t have to worry.”

Harry was about to tell her that the Dursleys were muggles and sending an owl was the best way to make sure they didn’t come to fetch him, when he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to live with them anymore.

What if they did come to fetch him?

That would almost be worse.


During the train ride, Harry managed to almost forget the impending doom. They played exploding snap, ate too many sweets (according to Hermione) and made the most of the last few moments in which they were allowed to do magic.

Only when the train slowed down, Harry remembered that this summer would not be like the last.

Which was good, of course, but then ... at least he knew what to expect from the Dursleys.


They went through the gate to the muggle world, and soon, Ron was surrounded by Weasleys, Hermione waved to her parents, and just when Harry thought Luna might have been forgotten, a man whose blonde hair clashed something horrible with his yellow robe ran towards them. It was, Harry realized, the same man he had seen in the hospital wing, but he looked much healthier now.

Harry looked around, and saw ...

Dudley? Was that Dudley, eating an enormous ice cream? Yes, it could only be him, no one else was that fat.

“Harry! Sorry, there was a problem with the portkey, we – ”

“Are still perfectly on time”, Snape’s voice interrupted Rose. “As you see, the Weasley clan has not departed yet.”

“If you just apparated us, we would have been there when Harry arrived.”

“Or perhaps, parts of us would have been there to welcome him, a sight that would no doubt be much more horrifying than our absence.” Snape looked around, following Harry’s gaze. “Ah. The Dursleys?”

“Yes – but – I thought Dumbledore would have written to them - ”

“It seems your cousin also arrived by train. At least I hope this is his school uniform, and not something he chooses to wear.”

Dudley actually was in his Smeltings uniform, Harry realized. “Oh. Right.” It had probably been the same last year. Perhaps the Dursleys wouldn’t even have bothered to pick him up at the station if they hadn’t been there anyway.


“Have a nice summer, Harry, Rose.” Hermione waved before she walked away with her parents.

“Fat chance of that”, Ron muttered. “See you next year!”

The Dursleys did not seem to notice the Weasleys as they walked past, even though Mr. Weasley was wearing robes.

Luna and her father were gone when Harry turned around after hearing a faint “Goodbye Harry”.


“You have everything?”, Snape asked.

Harry nodded.

“Let’s go.”

Harry hoped against all probability, that the Dursleys would ignore him, but of course, that did not happen.

“You!” Aunt Petunia screeched. “He didn’t say the boy would stay with you!”

What was she talking about?

“Would it have made a difference?” Snape sounded bored. “I was under the impression that you would have gladly left Lily’s only son in the care of a hungry alligator if it meant you would be rid of him.”

“I was told he would live with a suitable guardian”, Aunt Petunia hissed. “Not ... you.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “And what is that supposed to mean? I did labour under the misapprehension that I was not capable of raising a child for a long time, but then I found out how you raised Potter. You set the bar so low I can step over it while barely lifting my feet, Tuney.”

She didn’t have anything to say to that.

When they walked past the Dursleys, Harry overheard Uncle Vernon asking “Do you know this horrible man, Pet?”

“And this was your aunt, Petunia Dursley”, Snape told Rose. “I assume you will now understand why I saw fit to not inform her of your existence.”

Rose nodded. “Is she always like this?”

“Pretty much, yeah. I suppose she’s angry Dumbledore didn’t actually leave me with a hungry alligator.”

“It would not surprise me in the least”, Snape commented. “Now, we have half an hour before our train departs. Did you eat on the train?”

Harry hesitated.

“I thought not.”

It was only when Snape had bought a sandwich and shoved it into his hands that Harry was sure the question had really been meant for him.

And even though he had eaten sweets on the train, he actually was hungry enough to eat it.

“Now, hurry, I have no intention to miss our train.”

They were travelling by train?

Before Harry could ask any questions, Snape took the trolley with his school trunk on it and began walking at a fast pace, as if Harry’s luggage weighed nothing.

Harry could only try to keep up while eating his sandwich.

When they arrived at the platform, he finished the sandwich as fast as he could, then looked around. He wouldn’t have thought Snape would live in an ordinary muggle place you could reach by an ordinary muggle train, but there was nothing magical here.

“Where are we going?”, he whispered to Rose.

“Why, home!”

That didn’t answer his question at all.

“Cokeworth”, Snape said. “If for some reason you get lost and some adult asks where you live, it’s Cokeworth. The address is ... say you forgot the address if someone asks. Just wait at the train station if that happens.”

Cokeworth ... something about that sounded familiar.

Why was he supposed to have forgotten the address? Was it a magical place?

But Harry had no intention to get lost, anyway.

The train arrived, and Harry had a couple of seconds to wonder how he would get his trunk inside without the help of Fred and George.

Then, Snape took the trunk and heaved it into the train.

Oh, right. Snape was actually ... not exactly nice, but ...

“Sit down, boy. And calm that owl.”

Now that was more the kind of thing Harry was used to. He sat down next to Rose and put the owl cage on his lap. “I’m sorry Hedwig, I will let you out as soon as possible, but now you have to be quiet, please!”

Hedwig was not impressed. Of course – she had spent pretty much all day on the Hogwarts Express.

“Try one of those”, Snape said.

Harry looked up. Snape was holding out some brownish lump.

“Owl treat”, Rose explained, took it from Snape and gave it to Harry.

“Thanks”

Hedwig deigned to eat the treat, and after Snape had used a spell to refill her waterbowl, she closed her eyes and settled down for a nap.

Harry was just starting to relax a bit when the conductor came.

Reflexively, he wanted to take out his ticket and realized he didn’t have one.

The conductor didn’t even pay attention to him, and moved on after looking at Snape’s ticket.

“I can’t wait to see my new room”, Rose said. “Is it really larger than my old room?”

“It is”, Snape confirmed. “An extension charm has been placed on the house.”

“Why didn’t you do that earlier?”

“Extensions charms are under strict ministry control and getting permission to use one on a house is a bureaucratic nightmare. Unless, that is, one is Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, in which case the whole process takes two minutes. Headmaster Dumbledore happens to be.” Snape frowned. “Were you unhappy with your old room?”

“No, not at all! I just wondered, because you always complain that your house is so small.”

“I would not like the wretched place any better if it were thrice as large.”

Rose sighed. “You could buy a different house, if you really think - ”

“No, I could not.” Snape’s tone made clear that the conversation was over.

After some time of angry silence, Rose turned to Harry. “So, what do you want to do in the holidays?”

“I don’t know.” He knew he wanted to practice Quidditch and play Exploding Snap, and be generally lazy, but he couldn’t say that in front of Snape, could he?

Rose, it turned out, had a lot of ideas what she could do together with her newly acquired younger brother. Going to the zoo, going swimming, and her favourite activity “ ... take you riding, of course - ”

“Ordinary horses”, Snape threw in. Harry flinched. He’d almost forgotten Snape was there.

“Okay.”

Snape was still looking at him. “Ponies. Shetland ponies.”

“Now you are being ridiculous!” Rose replied.

“You learnt riding on shetland ponies.”

“I was six!”

“Fine. Normal ponies, then. The boy has had enough injuries to last him a lifetime. No need to add to it.”

Now, Harry was getting angry. “I’m right here! And I don’t get injured that much.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “I am, of course, including the three days you spent in the hospital wing at the end of first year, even if you do not remember them. And I have a feeling that more past injuries will be revealed as time goes on. Your cousin looks like the kind of boy who would hit other children.”

“Yeah, that’s Dudley for you.” Oh, shit! Snape couldn’t know about that. “Not like he could catch me. He doesn’t run very fast.” He still had managed to sneak up on or corner Harry plenty of times, but that was none of Snape’s business.

“Be that as it may, adequate safety precautions will be taken.”


When they arrived in Cokeworth, it had started to rain, which suited Harry’s mood. He had been excited – for a few moments – over getting to do normal holiday things with Rose. But of course, Snape would not let him have fun.

Rather like the Dursleys.

As Harry looked at the grey houses under lead-grey skies, he suddenly remembered his previous stay in Cokeworth.

There it was, the Railview Hotel, close to the train station.

“I’ve been here before”, he said without thinking.

“Petunia took you?” Snape seemed surprised.

“Not really her. It was Uncle Vernon’s idea, I think. They were running away from the owls, but of course it didn’t work.”

“Running away from the owls? Care to elaborate?”

“Owls. You know. From Hogwarts. When I got my Hogwarts letter.” Why had Hagrid not just rung the doorbell and talked to the Dursleys from the start? Sure, it had been hilarious, looking back. All those letters. The Dursleys’ panic.

And the Railview Hotel had been rather nice compared to Privet Drive. No chores for Harry, and it had been fun to watch Dudley get upset over the lack of a TV while Harry was used to worse conditions.

Still, not knowing what Uncle Vernon would do next ...

“Ah. It was unwise to give them the chance to ... abscond with you”, Snape stated. “So it was he who chose this location? Yes, that makes more sense.”

And to Harry’s surprise, he just took Harry’s school trunk in one hand, his broom in the other and started walking.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked for the second time. And how could Snape carry this thing? Even for an adult, it must be heavy.

“Spinner’s End”, Snape replied. “No need to tell anyone you live there.”

“It’s a bad part of the town”, Rose explained. “Only it is not really that bad. Uncle Sev exaggerates. The people there are very nice.”

“One might say that the crime rate ... dropped in the past few years. Still, the poverty remains and it is not advisable to let anyone know that you live there.”

“People who matter won’t care”, Rose countered.

Harry waited for Snape to explode, but that didn’t happen. Instead the man ... smiled? Or was that just a trick of the light?

“A very Gryffindor sentiment”, Snape commented, but he didn’t sound angry. “Perhaps you will not end up in Slytherin, after all.”

Even though the rain was more of a drizzle, Harry was thoroughly soaked when they arrived at a dilapidated brick house. It was in a row of identical houses and they all were in some state of disrepair.

Instead of doing any magic to reveal a hidden manor house, Snape just unlocked the door. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

Only that it wasn’t an understatement. The house really was very small. Snape didn’t even seem to have a TV.
Dudley would have hated the place.

There was a fireplace, and some free space around it, and everything else was books. Walls and walls of books.

Hermione would love it.

Snape led them up the stairs, to a small room with a bed covered in a dark-green blanket, a wardrobe, a desk and not much else. The only decoration was a large painting of a sallow-faced woman.

“Where’s all my things?” Rose exclaimed.

“In your new room, of course.” Snape put down Harry’s school trunk and broom and opened the wardrobe at the side of the room. “Here it is.”

“What? You can’t make Rose live in a wardrobe!” Harry suddenly could hear his own pulse, his heart beating an angry rhythm.

“It’s like Narnia”, Rose exclaimed. “Come, look, Harry!”

She sounded happy. Why?

“The wardrobe is merely the entrance to her room. I thought it safer to hide it well”, Snape said.

Harry bit his lip and walked towards the wardrobe. He noticed that his hands were trembling.

“Look!”

Instead of the inside of a wardrobe, there was a large, bright room. There were a bed and desk that looked exactly like the ones in the room outside, only the desk was covered in quills and inkpots and a stack of parchment, while the bed had bedclothes with pictures of winged horses. Winged horses that moved.

There was a wardrobe, too, smaller than the one the entrance was hidden in.

“Oh. That’s cool.” He knew he didn’t sound as amazed as Rose expected. His heart was still beating too fast. He felt a bit dizzy.

“I love it! Thank you so much!”

Harry watched, stunned, as Rose launched herself at Snape and hugged him.

And then Snape actually wrapped his arms around her as if this was nothing unusual. “Now, let’s take a look at your brother’s room.”

It took Harry a moment to realize that Snape was talking about him. “I get a room?”

“Obviously.”

Snape went to the painting and did something to the frame. Suddenly, the painting swung to the side like that of the Fat Lady.

Inside was ... the Gryffindor dormitory, only there was just one bed and the window wasn’t where it should be.

Even the desk looked like one of those in the Gryffindor common room.

“The windows of your rooms can be opened, but the window you will look out of is the real one. Do not ask me how it works, I doubt anyone but Professor Dumbledore would be able to understand.” Snape looked at Harry. “You can use it to release your owl. But now, you should change out of your wet clothes. I expect you downstairs in ten minutes.”

With that, Snape turned and left.

Harry just stood and stared at his room. His room.

“Don’t be disappointed. I’m sure Uncle Sev just didn’t want to decorate it without you there.”

“It ...” Harry swallowed. He was not going to cry. “It’s perfect.”

“Oh. Okay. See you later.”

Harry stared at the bed. It was his four-poster bed with the red curtains.

He was home.


It felt like no time at all had passed when there was a knock at the door. “Harry? Are you alright?” Rose called.

For a moment, Harry was confused. What was Rose doing in Gryffindor tower? Oh, right. He went to the door. “I’m okay.”

“Aren’t you cold? You have some other clothes in your trunk, don’t you?”

Harry nodded, but only really started to move when he heard Hedwig flap her wings in her cage. He had to free her, first of all.

After Hedwig had soared out into the grey sky, he took some of the clothes the Grangers had given him out of his school trunk and went back to his room.

It took him a long time to change, as he couldn’t help staring at everything.

How could Snape have replicated the Gryffindor dorm? He had never been there, had he? Dumbledore had helped, that had to be it ... it was all magic, of course, but still ...

**

Not even Potter could have managed to get into trouble in an empty room. It was absolutely impossible. Still ...

At last, Rose ran down the stairs, taking two steps at a time, making Severus wince every time. He knew it was extremely unlikely for her to be killed by falling down the stairs, but he couldn’t help it. She was all he had left. She ... and Harry.

“Harry is okay. I think. Only he was standing there as if he hadn’t moved at all. His door wasn’t even closed. I thought perhaps he was disappointed it wasn’t decorated at all, but he said he loved it.”

It had been a bad idea to hide the door to Rose’s new room in a wardrobe. But she loved the Chronicles of Narnia, and he had looked forward to seeing her reaction, and had told himself that a wardrobe in a room looked nothing like a cupboard under the stairs. And still, he had managed to retraumatize the boy.

“I see.” Perhaps psychotherapy would help?

Lily had gone to a psychotherapist a few times after the rape, but since she couldn’t tell a muggle that it had involved a love potion, it hadn’t been as useful as it could have. Still, the therapist had said the same things Severus had tried to get through Lily’s thick skull, such as that she hadn’t cheated on her boyfriend, and it had helped a bit.

The only problem with taking Potter to see a therapist would be that any therapist worth her salt would immediately realize the boy hated him. And was justified in doing so.

Sure, muggle authorities were often spectacularly useless – such as in Potter’s case, someone had to have called them, there was no way the muggle primary school would not have noticed – but one could rely on it that even pretty much useless people did their job the very moment you needed them to turn a blind eye.

He could obliviate muggles, but that would attract ... attention from the magical world, and a death eater really couldn’t afford that. Besides, it might leave some damage. You never knew. It might ruin a perfectly good therapist.

“What is it? Is something wrong with Harry?”, Rose interrupted his thoughts.

“Not more than you would expect. Drink your cocoa.” He gestured towards the steaming mug. His own concoction, something that tasted like cocoa but also had some of the properties of pepperup potion. “You know why he lives with us now. Don’t you have some experience with children from abusive households?”

“Oh! It’s just, Harry is so normal. Most of the time. He never gets angry for no reason, or anything.”

“Ah. You would mostly have seen small children. I suppose ... no one can say with certainty, but one year in a loving family could have given him some resilience ...” He took a sip from his own mug of cocoa. “As for him being normal, you haven’t seen him in my class. He’s a troublemaker.” Though not as bad of one as some of Rose’s temporary foster siblings had been, he had to admit that. And of course it was cast in an entirely different light now ... “He is likely showing his best behaviour so that you will like him.”

“I don’t think – Hermione wouldn’t be friends with him if he was that bad.”

“Be that as it may ... his strange behaviour is likely a reaction to trauma. His relatives made him live in a cupboard. I should have predicted his reaction to your room.”

“A cupboard!” Rose was as shocked as he had expected, and that was exactly why he had not told her the whole extent of the abuse before.

“Don’t mention it to him. He doesn’t want anyone to know. But I think it will help you understand ... he might be surprised at having his own room, even though Miss Granger said he did, eventually, get a proper room.”

“So that’s why he was almost crying when he saw his room?”

“Likely. I suggested to Professor Dumbledore that he would likely feel most at home at Hogwarts.” He himself certainly had. “It is unlikely he was disappointed. Though of course you are right, it does look rather empty. I expect he will fill it with decorations of his own choosing in due time.” Or would the dormitory look make the boy feel he wasn’t allowed to? Perhaps it would have been better to only go with a general Gryffindor look and not copy it exactly.

**

When Harry finally went downstairs, much more than ten minutes had passed. He hoped Rose would talk Snape out of punishing him.

“Have a seat”, Snape pointed towards the empty place on the sofa next to Rose. “How do you like your room?”

Harry sat down. Could he trust this apparent calm? “It is very nice. Thank you, sir.”

“Very well. Drink your cocoa.”

There was a full mug of cocoa in front of Harry. It had gone cold, but still didn’t taste bad.

“You are, I believe, old enough to do chores. What would you like to do?”

Harry almost spit out the cocoa. What he would like to do? Since when did he get to choose?

“Surely, this is not an unreasonable question?” Snape looked at him like he was some interesting specimen of newt in a jar of formaline.

“No, sir.” Harry ducked his head. “I would like to make breakfast.” That was his favourite chore at the Dursleys, because sometimes, Aunt Petunia didn’t look and he could steal a bit of bacon.
Perhaps Snape would decide to sleep longer and Harry could do it all alone.

Snape frowned. “Breakfast at this house is not such a large meal that preparing it could be considered a chore. If you like preparing food, you may assist me with the main meals.”

“Okay.” With Snape there, stealing food would be harder, but on the other hand, he might get away with tasting a bit more than was strictly necessary.

“You may borrow any of the books you can reach while standing on the floor, but not those on the higher shelves. And you better treat them like you treat library books while Madam Pince is watching.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You will not leave the house without my permission.”

“Unless it is on fire”, Rose threw in.

“Quite. Also, both of you, carry your wands at all times. Your presence here is secret, but the secret could get out. It goes without saying that you are to only use your wands in an emergency ...” Snape hesitated as if he was about to say something more. “Rose, I am sure you can tell your brother all of the other rules that apply in my house.”

“Are there any?” Rose seemed surprised.

“There always are unwritten rules. I never saw a need to articulate, for example, the fact that you are not allowed to set the house on fire.”

Rose laughed. “I’m sure we don’t need to tell Harry that sort of thing.”

“I should hope not.” Snape stood. “I will fetch your luggage from the portkey point and will be back in about half an hour. Food is in the kitchen.”

He strode to the door and slammed the door shut behind him.

Half an hour? “Wait, if your stuff is here in Cokeworth, why didn’t we fetch it on the way?”

Rose seemed confused. “It’s not here. We left it at the portkey point in London.”

“Portkey point?” Snape had used that word, too.

“Oh, right, you grew up with muggles. A portkey is a mode of transport. You touch it, and the next moment, you are wherever it is spelled to send you.”

“That’s awesome!”

Rose grimaced. “I suppose so, but you have to get to the portkey point first, and of course, they don’t spell portkeys to get people home. It’s like a train, just faster. But Uncle Sev refuses to side-along apparate with me.” Noticing Harry’s confused expression, she continued. “Apparating is much faster. I mean, not really faster, but we could have apparated from the portkey point to King’s Cross, picked you up there and then apparated here.”

“Why didn’t he want to?” Now he remembered, Rose had complained when she had arrived at King’s Cross, too.

“He says it isn’t safe. That’s nonsense, he apparates all the time and nothing ever happened, but he still says it isn’t safe and he won’t take me.”

Perhaps it really wasn’t safe, or why didn’t the Weasleys do it? “What could happen? Something like a car accident?”

“Something like that, yes. But not exactly, because car accidents can be caused by other people, right? Splinching only happens if you do something wrong.”

“Splinching?”

“Leaving parts of yourself behind.”

Leaving parts of yourself behind? Like an ear or a leg? That did sound very dangerous! “Makes sense that he doesn’t want to take you along.”

Rose shrugged “He’s a hypocrite. I mean, he does it all the time. And it’s not like not having a nose would look any better on him than on me.”

“True.” It would look totally creepy, which Snape probably would mind less than Rose, but Rose probably didn’t realize that Snape liked scaring his students.

“I’ll show you the house”, Rose decided. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

“Didn’t you live in France?” Harry asked as he got up to follow Rose up the stairs.

“Yes, but ... it still feels like home, you know? Uncle Sev doesn’t understand, he hates the house, it’s old and tiny and all, but to me, it’s just where Uncle Sev lives, and it’s great.” Rose opened a door. “The bathroom. This was a bedroom, originally. When the house was built, there was only an outhouse in the backyard.”

She showed him the door to Snape’s bedroom – “Don’t wake him, though, unless it’s a real emergency, he gets cranky” and the attic. “Tons of interesting things, but don’t mention it to Uncle Sev, he would throw everything away if he got around to it. It’s all muggle things!”

They went downstairs again, where there was a kitchen and Rose opened a bread package and took out a slice. “Are you hungry?”

“Just a bit.” Harry hesitated. “Are we allowed to just take bread from the kitchen?”

“Sure, that’s what it’s for.” Rose handed him the slice and took one herself. “Mum and dad say British muggle toast tastes like cardboard, but I’ve always liked it. Reminds me of holidays here.”

Next was the basement. “This”, Rose indicated a door of rough wood planks “is the potato cellar, only it is really more of a potato, carrot and apple cellar. It is also where you find the bottles of water, orange juice and pumpkin juice.” She turned around and indicated a door that looked much smoother. “That is the laboratory, entrance forbidden on pain of death.”

Well, figured.

“Uncle Sev sometimes lets me use it, but I can’t go in while he’s away, and you’d better not disturb him while he’s working, either. You can knock, but never just open the door. He claims something might explode in my face, but really, the only thing that ever explodes there is him.”

Explode. Well, that was one way to describe Snape yelling at you. “So he does get angry at you?”

“Sure. He tries not to, but ...” Rose made a face. “He does have a temper.”

All too soon, Snape returned, carrying a trunk that was even larger than Harry’s school trunk. “Rose, why don’t you go upstairs and unpack?”

When Rose just took the whole thing in two arms and carried it upstairs, Harry realized it must have been made magically lighter. Snape might be hiding some muscles under those wide robes, although he was overall skinny, but Rose ... no way.

Perhaps he could find out what the spell was?

“Follow me.”

This could only be directed at Harry, so he walked after Snape into the kitchen.

Rose had been right, the missing bread was not commented on, perhaps not even noticed.

“You can peel and slice the vegetables.” Snape handed him a wooden board and a knife. “They are in this bag over there.”

Harry went to work. With Snape ignoring him, it wasn’t so bad. He managed to eat quite a few pieces of carrot, and even a quarter of a tomato.

There was an aubergine, too. He couldn’t steal pieces of that, but he would still have to prepare it.

He had just finished salting the aubergine slices when he noticed Snape looking at him.

“What did I do wrong this time?!” It was just like Potions. Always Snape stared at him to find fault.

“Nothing. I just would not have expected ...” Snape shook his head. “You helped your aunt with cooking? I think it is safe to infer that your uncle does not cook?”

Wait, what? Why didn’t Snape yell at him? “Um. Yes. Sometimes I got to do it on my own.” Which increased the number of foods he could eat while no one was looking. “And no, he doesn’t, he just eats.” A lot.

“Yes, he looks like it.”

Had Snape just called Uncle Vernon fat?

Harry hid a smile.

“Now, why don’t you go fetch Rose? The two of you can set the table.”

“Yes, sir.” Harry ran upstairs.

Rose’s door was open, light coming out of the wardrobe, and she was still busy unpacking her things.

She had a lot of things.

“Harry, do you want a Beauxbatons poster?” She held up a poster which showed a very nice building, more like a palace than like a castle, with a herd of winged horses in the foreground. “We get them for free, no idea why, it is not like they need to advertise.”

“If you won’t miss it?” He did like the way the horses moved and flapped their wings. Even after two years at Hogwarts, magical posters still awed him.

“I have dozens of them.” Rose rolled it up and threw it towards him.

Harry caught it. “We are supposed to go downstairs and set the table.”

“Oh, right.” Rose got up. “Let’s go.”

He left his new poster on the desk in the middle room and followed her.

Dinner was unexpectedly delicious. Harry had never thought Snape had a talent for cooking, but then, a potions master could hardly be the kind of person who burnt water.

“Don’t you want to eat any more?” Rose asked, helping herself to a second portion.

Harry glanced to Snape, but there was no telling what the man was thinking. He had a calculating look about him, as if he just waited for Harry to break any of his unwritten rules.

“I don’t know. A bit, perhaps?” If Rose was the one who made him eat more, Snape could hardly blame him, could he?

As he had hoped, the man indeed didn’t comment, even though the portion Rose heaped on Harry’s plate was rather more than ‘a bit’.

When they all had finished their plates and Snape got up, Harry started stacking the dishes.

“Thank you. You may leave, I will do the dishes.”

Had Snape actually just thanked him? It hadn’t sounded very grateful. But Harry wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Yes, sir. Thanks.”

In his room, there was nothing to do, and it was not quite late enough to go to bed, yet.

Harry wasn’t sure if he was actually that happy about not having to do the dishes.

Not that he wanted to spend any more time than necessary with Snape. Did he?

Someone knocked at his door. “Harry! Let’s put up your new poster!”


It was nice, being able to pretend that he was still in his dorm in Gryffindor Tower. But a bit lonely, too.

In Privet Drive, he was used to the loneliness, but in Hogwarts, he had always had at least Ron there with him.

Of course he couldn’t share a room with Rose. Snape would probably have a heart attack if he so much as suggested it. Harry smiled, imagining the reaction. Uncle Vernon went purple when he got very angry – would Snape, too, or would his pale face first turn a healthier colour?



The next day, Snape told them to do their homework.

Rose suggested that they could both use the desk in the middle room. “Then it won’t be so boring.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be in our rooms?”

“This is our room, isn’t it?”

Harry liked having someone there to ask questions, though Rose could mostly just help him with potions. The other essay he had difficulties with was in History of Magic, and she had learnt almost entirely different things.

And of course, he could not help Rose with anything at all.

“I’ll ask Uncle Sev”, she decided after staring at her Transfiguration essay for about five minutes.
Before Harry could say anything she had dashed downstairs.

Minutes ticked by. Harry waited. Wouldn’t her question be answered by now?

Finally, Harry decided to investigate. He got up and sneaked down the stairs, careful to not make too much noise.

Rose was sitting on the sofa, her essay in front of her. Snape in his usual armchair. Both were bathed in the warm light emanating from the fireplace.

“... better not to mention that. Your teacher might not know it, and he is too vain to acknowledge superiority in a student.”

“Good thing I go to Hogwarts next year.”

“Minerva will not mark you down for insulting her vanity, and that is if you even manage to surpass her knowledge, but it remains to be seen if your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is any good.”

Those always seemed to have something wrong about them.

Harry was about to comment on that when he remembered he was just spying. He didn’t belong.

In his haste to escape, he accidentally put his foot on the step that creaked.

They didn’t notice, though, and Harry escaped to his room.

**

“The stairs”, Severus murmured. “Harry must have tried to follow you, and when he saw me ...” It shouldn’t hurt to be hated by the son of James Potter, of all things, but it did.

“Oh, come on, he isn’t afraid of you.”

“Perhaps not. Even so. Has there never been someone you wanted to avoid?”

“Yes, but ... Okay, yes, but that doesn’t mean ...”

“Check on him. I will be in my laboratory.”

**

He would never belong. No one even missed him.

Harry stared out of the window, at the leaden grey sky. Could he get out through the window? Fly away?

“Harry, where are you? Sorry it took me a little longer – are you angry at me?” Rose had come back.

“No, I – I just ...” He gestured towards the window. “The weather is horrible, isn’t it?”

“It really is. At least we still have some homework to do, so we don’t have to waste a sunny day for it.”

The weather stayed the same on the next day, and on the day after that. Harry did the rest of his homework and got somewhat used to life in Spinner’s End.

Snape only paid any attention to him when he helped with meals, the rest of the time, Harry could just as well not have existed.

Which was the way Harry liked it. Not being noticed by Snape was the best you could hope for.

Finally, one morning, the sun peeked through the clouds.

“Can we go to Cherry Bowl Farm today?”, Rose asked while she buttered her breakfast crossaint.

Snape sipped on his tea. “Certainly.”

“It’s a muggle place”, Rose explained to Harry. “Only muggle horses. I know you like flying, but I guess it is safer to start with muggle horses.”

“Yeah, probably. Wouldn’t be the same as riding a broomstick anyway, right?”

“Much more comfortable”, Rose claimed.

Harry wasn’t so sure.


After breakfast, Rose went to fetch her riding gear. “We’ll have to get you a helmet”, she told Harry. “The boots aren’t as important, but I don’t think Uncle Sev will let you ride without a helmet.”

“So we won’t just, uh, ride in circles?” He faintly remembered having been to a fair with the Dursleys once. It must have been one of those times when Mrs. Figg was unable to take him. Dudley had wanted to ride a pony, and Harry had pitied the poor animal, who had to carry the overweight boy around a fenced enclosure twice, before Dudley had decided it was boring.

“We can start with that”, Rose replied, shrugging. “But I’d prefer the forest.”

She ran downstairs. “Uncle Sev, Harry needs a helmet. Can you double mine?”

Dudley, Harry recalled, had not worn a helmet back then. But then, Dudley also wouldn’t have fit into the tight riding boots Rose wore.

When Harry arrived downstairs, Snape handed him a helmet. “Try if it fits.”

It was a bit too wide, and Snape just took it again and tapped it with his wand. “Try now.”

“Now it fits.”

“Good. Boots next.”


“I don’t think I need those?” Shoes were perfectly alright, weren’t they?

“Yes you do.”

The boots were rather too small, and although Harry didn’t complain, Snape tapped them with his wand. “Better?”

“Um. Yes, thanks.”

They made some sandwiches, and only when they stepped out of the door, Harry realized that Snape did not have a car, so how would they get there? By train again?

Snape made a movement as if to hail a taxi, but instead, a bus appeared, so suddenly that Harry jumped. Snape paid the young conductor and herded Rose and Harry towards the back row.

Instead of usual bus seats, there were comfy armchairs, which had the downside that they started moving as soon as the bus did.

Snape pointed his wand at the seats and muttered an incantation.

With the armchair glued firmly to the floor, Harry found it much more comfortable.

“Keep your helmets on, you might need them”, Snape advised.

“You put yours on, then”, Rose retorted.

For a moment, Snape looked like he might reply something, but in the end, he actually put his helmet on.

It made him look rather silly, but Harry managed not to chuckle.

Soon, he realized that he really could need the helmet – the bus driver drove like a maniac. And of course, it was nice to be able to hide his scar.

“Druid’s Oak”, the conductor announced. “Thank you for traveling with the Knight Bus.”

Harry had been too busy clinging to his seat to pay much attention to his surroundings, but when he got out, he saw they were in the midst of a forest.

“We always tell them we get here by bus”, Roes explained while they walked through the forest. “Which is actually true, but at the same time, not really. The muggle bus would take ages.”

The farm had a wooden sign with a cherry bowl painted on it. A woman with curly grey hair greeted them at the gate. “Mr. Snape! Rose! How nice to see you again! And you brought a friend?”

Harry was flabberghasted. He had never seen anyone so pleased at the sight of Snape, and that included Dumbledore.


Snape nodded. “Miss Thorne, this is Harry, Rose’s half-brother. He has no previous experience, so ...”

“Hello Harry. I’ll give you Dandelion, what do you say? She’s nice and small, and as stubborn as three donkeys.”

“Um. Thank you?” Was a stubborn horse a good thing?

Miss Thorne didn’t notice his lack of enthusiasm, though, as she was already talking to Snape again. “I wondered ... could you perhaps have a look at Buttercup? She must have gotten injured somewhen in the night, I was just about to call you ... something isn’t right with her right front leg.”

Buttercup, it turned out, was a white-yellow Shetland pony and extremely tiny. She limped to the front of the box she was in to push her nose into Rose’s hand.

“Poor Buttercup”, Rose said, petting the pony. “You will be able to help her, will you?”

“I do think so”, Snape replied. “Now, why don’t you and Harry go and meet Dandelion while I am busy?”


Dandelion, though much bigger than little Buttercup, was also yellow-ish in colour and still more pony-sized than horse-sized, although Miss Throne informed Harry that the breed were generally called Icelandic horses. “She has a soft spot for inexperienced riders, this one. Will make sure you stay on her back. She’ll indulge your silly human ideas of what to do as long as she’s in a good mood, but don’t think you are the boss of her. She’ll fight anyone who thinks he can order her around.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry’s only experience in horseback riding – if you could call it that, which wasn’t advisable if you liked being alive – was being carried by Firenze the centaur. “Sounds perfect.”

Miss Thorne had just asked a worker, a younger woman with honey-blonde hair, to fetch ‘Seafoam’ and ‘Silvermane’, when Snape returned.

“What do you say?”, Miss Thorne asked. “Can you do something for poor Buttercup?”

“I have put some comfrey ointment on her leg. Leave it on three days, and she will recover.”


Rose and Snape went to saddle their ponies, and Harry was tasked with leading Dandelion outside. Which worked fine until they reached the stable door, when Dandelion suddenly decided she didn’t want to move anymore.

Harry shrugged and waited. So far, Dandelion didn’t kick or bite, and he wasn’t keen on finding out what she would do if he annoyed her.

“... fixed Buttercup’s leg? How?” The younger woman’s voice, Harry realized. She was quite far away, but he could faintly hear her.

“I told him she was limping a bit”, Miss Thorne replied cheerfully.

“Limping a bit? That leg was broken! The surgery would have cost a fortune, and you say he fixed it?”

“Shush, don’t let him hear that we know it was broken. I doubt he would be willing to fix something so severe. He’s just a humble herbalist who dabbles in healing ... or so he says. And I won’t be the one to challenge him on that.”

“He can’t - ”

“Don’t. Haven’t you read fairy tales? Never question the fair folk. Never try to expose their secrets. Just be grateful.”

Harry had grown quite curious and wanted to hear more, but now, Dandelion decided she wanted to go outside and be saddled.

Which Harry did, advised by Rose.


Once he got in the saddle, Harry realized, to his surprise, that he was having fun. Snape on a pony was a sight it was hard not to giggle at – had someone asked him earlier, Harry would have bet anything that Snape would ride a large black horse.

The pony was grey, which was a colour that would suit Snape, but his feet dangled rather close to the ground.

Dandelion ambled peacefully towards a fenced enclosure, followed by Rose’s and Snape’s ponies.

Miss Thorne joined them, riding a large black horse the exact kind Harry would have thought Snape would want.

“I see you get along with Dandelion, Harry.”

“It isn’t that hard, Madam.”

“You’d be surprised.”

They made two circles around the fenced enclosure, apparently only for Harry’s benefit, and as soon as he said he felt ready, they left for the forest.

Dandelion went first. It didn’t worry Harry much, as he had decided to treat her like a centaur. She clearly knew the way better than he did, and while Miss Thorne had told him how to use his legs to steer a horse in a direction or the other, he didn’t get the impression that Dandelion cared much about that sort of thing. She had walked in perfect circles despite his clumsy attempts, and now she obviously knew where to go.

The forest was quiet and peaceful, only the sound of birdsong interrupting the silence at times.


Somewhere in the distance, a rivulet gurgled merrily.

Dandelion turned right at a crossroads, and when Harry looked behind him, everyone else was, of course, following.

And then, in front of them, there was the streamlet, broader than it had sounded, yet shallow enough so a horse could easily wade through. Which Dandelion did.

Or rather, started to. When they had almost reached the other side, Dandelion reared up on her hind legs, and Harry, instinctively grabbing for centaur shoulders that weren’t there, fell.

He landed onto round-washed stones and heard an ugly, cracking noise. The pain did not even register as much as the fact that his arm was broken.

Not again!

“Harry!”

Suddenly, the very worried looking face of Dandelion appeared in his field of vision. Was she sorry she had thrown him? Could she even understand what had happened?

“Talk, boy!” Snape’s angry face appeared next to Dandelion’s. “Are you injured?”

“Um. Yes, sir. My arm. It’s broken, I think.”

“You feel well otherwise?”

Of course Harry didn’t. The whole side of his body that had hit the stones hurt.

“You don’t feel dizzy or anything?”

“No, I’m okay.” Why did Snape sound so frantic? Harry had broken his arm before. No big deal.

“Get up, then, before your clothes are entirely soaked.” Snape held out a hand, and Harry briefly considered taking it, before he noticed he would have to move his injured arm.

Snape realized his mistake and held out the other hand. This time, he succeeded in helping Harry up.

“Don’t move, Rose. Not a bit”, Snape ordered, quite superfluously, since Rose had stopped her pony the moment Harry had been thrown.

“Let me have a look.” Snape took Harry’s injured arm between his hands and whispered an incantation.

The bone snapped back into place with a sudden pain.

“Just bruised, it seems”, Snape said loudly. “I have a daisy root ointment that will help in my herb bag, once we get back to the farm.”


“I have no idea what got into Dandelion”, Miss Thorne said from behind Rose. “Very sorry about that.”

“Well, I happen to have some idea.”

Snape waved towards the other side of the rivulet, and suddenly, a branch Harry thought might have hit them in the faces while they rode by, was covered in barbed wire.

“Do you have enemies, Miss Thorne? Have a look at this branch there. Careful, don’t get too close.”

“Why, I never!”, she exclaimed. “We don’t have enemies, I don’t think ... there’s this one young man who complains that Dandelion eats the grass on his meadow – he recently inherited it from his father who was a lovely man, and he’s a bit of a nuisance, but ... I can’t believe ...”

“Someone is trying to cause you grievous bodily harm, no doubt about it. Let me remove this.”

Snape waded to the branch, and Harry could have sworn he heard him mutter an incantation as the branch snapped.

“There, now. But you need to be careful. It could happen again any time. Dandelion must have noticed.”

“She is an extremely clever horse”, Miss Thorne agreed.

They returned to the farm without even talking about continuing their ride – but then, Dandelion had already turned around and seemed very decided that they should return.

Rose offered to switch ponies, but Harry declined. Dandelion was a very nice pony, all things considered, and that barbed wire would have hurt a lot if it had reached his face.

Perhaps not more than the broken arm, but that had been an accident.

Nothing happened on the way back, and Rose took care of all the ponies, while Harry sat on a chair as Snape applied that daisy root ointment to his arm. It was hard to not flinch away, since this was, well, Snape. He was surprisingly gentle, though.


“I will return to have a look at Buttercup”, Snape promised Miss Thorne. “And while I am there, I can also pay a visit to this young man you have problems with. Troublesome young men are sometimes more inclined to listen to another man – no offence meant.”

“None taken. Not your fault he’s a misogynist ass”, Miss Thorne replied cheerfully. “And he probably is one. I certainly get the feeling he thinks himself above us.”





For the way back, they took the Knight bus again, and this time, Snape ordered hot chocolate for Rose and Harry, and used a spell to cool it down.

Just when Harry wanted to ask why, the bus started driving and he spilt a good portion of the chocolate all over his shirt and jeans.

It was a good thing it was a nice drinking temperature.

“Scourgify”, Snape said, and suddenly, Harry’s clothes were clean again.

“Thank you?” It felt so weird to thank the man.

“There was a curse on the branch”, Snape explained to Rose, having apparently returned to ignoring Harry. “Intended to permanently blind the target. I merely created an illusion to plausibly explain Dandelion’s reaction. That man Miss Thorne mentioned must be a wizard.”

“But why would he do such a thing? Just because Dandelion ate some grass?”

“He might just hate muggles. That Miss Thorne is under the impression that he looks down on her would support that theory.”

Much of the journey home was spent theorizing about what the man’s motives might be – Rose thought the meadow might be used to grow rare potions ingredients, while Snape tended more towards suspecting hatred of muggles.

It was weird, considering Harry would have thought that Snape hated muggles. Didn’t all Slytherins?

But Snape was almost, well, nice to Miss Thorne.

When they entered the house at Spinner’s End again, Harry was fed up with being ignored, and just blurted out: “She knows you are a wizard.”

“Who?”

“Miss Thorne. She told the other woman not to question you. Said something about the fair folk.” Too late Harry realized that now he’d gone and done exactly what she hadn’t wanted. Snape might stop helping them.

He felt terrible. And all just for – what? So that Snape wouldn’t ignore him? Being ignored was good!

“Oh?” Snape raised an eyebrow. “I suppose they had to figure it out some day. They aren’t stupid, after all. Still, if they didn’t seem inclined to tell someone ...?”

“Didn’t sound like it”, Harry hastily assured. “They were, uh, very worried you might stop helping them if they offended you.”

Snape nodded. “That is how the old superstitions say to deal with the fair folk. As long as they don’t get too close to the truth ...” He held out the daisy ointment to Harry. “Here. Go to your room and apply it where needed. I assume your arm wasn’t the only part of your body that got bruised.”

It wasn’t. When Harry got to his room, he saw that he had a collection of bruises on his thigh, hip and shoulder, too.

The ointment soothed the pain immediately. Must be magical, despite Snape’s pretending it wasn’t.