Fairytale Of Home by Livia Ethelind

Harry was seething. In fact, he was pretty sure that if he clenched his teeth any harder they'd fall out. He was walking in a rapid pace next to Hagrid. Half a butterbeer whirled around in his stomach which at some point had decided it would make its career as a centrifuge. Is that why everyone stared at me? Is that why they would never talk about what happened to dad? How could they do this? Why didn't mum say anything? Can mum remember? Did Snape not tell her either? Harry was asking at lot of questions and answering none. He eventually arrived at the conclusion that he was going to tear his stepfather to pieces if he ever saw him again!

”Professor Snape!” Hagrid called out and Harry's eyes snapped up to see the object of his hatred walking quickly – slightly jogging towards them? As soon as Snape reached them Harry opened his mouth about to scream at him but he never got a word out as Snape's hands clamped down upon his shoulders and he was spun around to face Hagrid. Harry half expected a swat but none came. Instead his stepfather addressed the large man. ”Thank you, Hagrid.” The tone was rather curt but Harry wasn't sure if that was because Snape didn't really mean it or because he was too angry with Harry to be polite. Oh, wait. The reality of why Snape might be angry came back to Harry who had completely forgotten about it in his own rage.

”Don't mention it, professor,” said Hagrid in a jovial manner. ”Can't have the lad wand'ring around Knockturn Alley all lost and alone. I'll see ye at Hogwarts then, Harry!” Hagrid waved at the boy who replied with a quiet 'Yeah, bye. And thanks' before Hagrid walked away, visible despite the crowd.

”Knockturn... Alley...” Harry suddenly heard hissed from behind him. He was spun around and came face to face with a pair of enraged black eyes. ”We will talk,” said Snape ominously. ”This way. Move.”

Harry felt Snape grab his arm and begin to drag him along and he struggled against him. ”I can walk by myself,” he shrieked. He'd expected someone to stop Snape. They were in a street full of people after all. Surely someone would step in and call the aurors so Snape would be arrested for kidnapping – preferably after a long and intense battle with lots of explosions but no one said a word. In fact the children hurried away or hid behind their parents as if they were afraid Snape might grab them and the adult either shook their heads or gave Harry stern looks. Harry was guided through the door of a store though he didn't notice what kind, only that it was dim and seemingly empty. He spun around to find Snape standing cross-armed in front of the door like a guard to a treasury.

”You can't do that!” cried Harry. ”Where's mum?”

”Your mother is at home. Nurse Sinclair thought it best to take her,” said Snape calmly. Why was he so calm? Only a moment ago he'd been ready to skin Harry.

”Well, then I'm going too! Move!” cried Harry louder still. Snape simply watched him yell with a calm and dignified expression and Harry soon found out why.

”Ahem..” someone said behind him and he turned in surprise to find an elderly man who looked like he'd been stored on one if his own shelves for a few decades. ”Harry Potter, I presume?”
”Erh,” Harry replied. Where was he? Oh, Snape was smirking now surely! The walls were lined with shelves containing long boxes – wands, Harry realized. This had to be Ollivander's then.

”Mr Ollivander?” he said tryingly as he felt Snape's hand on his back pushing him lightly towards the counter.

”And Professor Snape! Dragon heartstring and ebony!” nodded Ollivander. ”But now what of you,” he said to Harry. ”It is a great day indeed for I have long been curious. Now lets see.” He snapped his fingers and a measuring tape appeared which started to take Harry's measurements. Ollivander hmm'ed and oh'ed quite a bit as a quill scribbled them down. Then he headed for the shelves and pulled something out. ”Cherry and unicorn hair, 10 inches. Try it out,” he said as he handed Harry a wand. Harry just stood there not knowing what to do until Snape coughed impatiently behind him. Reminded of his presence Harry huffed and flicked the wand rather furiously at which point Ollivander had to dodge to not get hid. Harry was mortified as he remembered the amount of trouble he'd gotten in last time he nearly blasted someone but Ollivander didn't seem to mind in the slightest he simply tsk'ed and took the wand only to hand him another. A few dozen boxes on the floor and a smashed vase later Ollivander turned pensive. He glanced at Snape with a mixture of worry and excitement. ”Perhaps... This...” he said as he pulled another dusty box from the shelves and handed the wand inside to Harry. This time Harry didn't need to flick it. Unlike the others he didn't feel like he was holding a powerful object but like his arm and internal power had been extended. ”Phoenix feather, holly, 11 inches,” said the wandmaker quietly in an almost solemn manner. ”Curious! I had a feeling... But remarkable!”

”I... I don't understand, sir,” said Harry as he stared at the wand.

”How much,” it came dryly from Snape.

”This is no ordinary wand, Mr Potter,” said Ollivander.

”I'm sure no wand you ever sold was,” interrupted Snape. ”I do not plan to remain longer than necessary.”

Ignoring the dark man, Ollivander continued: ”This is a twin wand, Mr Potter. The phoenix from which the core came only ever gave one other feather and it resides in the wand that gave you that scar.” Harry's eyes widened. He felt Snape's hand on his shoulder.

”Enough fairytales,” said Snape but he didn't actually sound curt – almost, worried? ”Are you sure this is the right wand?” he added almost hesitantly.

”Young man,” said Ollivander sternly to Snape. ”Are you suggesting I do not know my own craft? In all these years I have never made a mistake!”

”No, I...” Snape began.

”This wand is like Voldemort's?” Harry interjected and failed to notice the contrast between Snape, who visibly winced at the name, and Ollivander, who raised his eyebrows.

”The wand chooses the wizard. We cannot truly know why but it seeks him. However it does not define him. It speaks of greatness however...”

He didn't get to finish that as Snape smacked a handful of galleons on the counter and snapped that they came to buy a wand not listen to nonsense. The wand was finally purchased and Harry was so puzzled by what Ollivander had said that he didn't notice how far they had moved until he was pulled into the fireplace at the strange inn. He came out coughing and spluttering as he'd once again forgotten to close his mouth. The first thing he heard was the frantic voice of his mother calling: ”Harry! Harry!” He squirmed out of Snape's hold and ran for the stairs. She was waiting in the hall on the first floor in her chair. She was wrapped in blankets but dropped one as she threw her arms open at him. He didn't need verbal permission. He crawled onto her lap and wrapped his arms around her.

”Oh Harry! How could you? I was so scared! Why would you run off like that? Where did you go? What were you thinking!?” Lily continued to half question, half scold him as she hugged him tightly. Snape made his way up the stairs but Harry didn't notice.

”Hagrid happened upon him... in Knockturn Alley,” said Snape.

”Knockturn Alley!” shrieked Lily as she grabbed Harry by the shoulders and held him in front of her. ”Oh, how could you, Harry? You're grounded! Yes, you are! Oh, I should... If I'd lost you...” At this she hugged Harry again. ”But you are safe and that is what matters! You must have been so frightened! My poor boy! Oh, did I scare you? In the petstore? I'm so sorry, dear, I don't know what... And we didn't get you a pet! I'm so sorry. Did you get the wand?” she said and looked up at Snape for his confirmation. He handed her the long box and she opened it excitedly as if it was a Christmas present addressed to her. ”Oh, it's lovely!” she exclaimed and Harry felt his stepfather pull him off his mother.

”Why do you feel the need to be so difficult?” said Snape sternly as he closed the door to the library. After a while Lizette had arrived and demanded that Lily rested before supper especially due to the days 'excitement'.

”Why do you feel the need to be such a prat?” Harry retorted now that he was finally alone with Snape and able to speak his mind.

”You will drop the attitude or you may stand in the corner until you are willing to listen,” snarled Snape.

”No point in listening to you. It's all lies anyway,” muttered Harry.

”Excuse me?!”

”Consider yourself excused,” snapped Harry and jumped into one of the large green armchairs as nonchalantly as he could.

”Harry,” said Snape in such a low and threatening voice that it sent chills down Harry's spine and he dared not look up at the man. ”I do not know what has gotten into you lately but you are tempting fate. My patience will only...”

”Why didn't you tell me?”

”Why didn't I tell you what?”

”Why didn't you tell me about Voldemort?” cried Harry and looked up to see Snape clench his teeth. ”Why didn't you tell me my father was murdered? Why didn't you tell me he died a hero! Why didn't you tell me what happened?”

”Do not speak the Dark Lord's name! Just what I need! Another reason for you to worship James! Another reason for you to glorify that idiot! Haven't you thought, boy, that it might be too painful? Haven't you thought your mother might wish to forget?”

”You could have told me. You knew! She didn't need to know.”

”It would do nothing but feed that intolerable self-importance of yours! I may have tried to prevent it but it is clearly hereditary. Tell me, Potter, does it please you to hear about how you defeated the greatest dark sorcerer since Grindelwald? Does it please you to know you are famous, celebrated by fools across Britain? Do you rejoice in your own heroics? Does it please you to know what you did to your mother?”

”Wh... What do you mean?” Harry stuttered.

”Oh, that detail was left out was it? Of course it was. Most people don't know. The magic that killed the Dark Lord almost killed your mother!” Snape was furious, that much was clear. ”But I suppose it doesn't matter what it did to her! All that matters is that the Potters get a chance to play heroes!”

”You're lying!” Harry cried. He'd never really thought about it. Lily had been in that chair for as long as Harry could remember and everyone had always said she was in an accident. Harry had assumed the accident had also killed his father. ”You're lying!” he repeated. ”Liar! You're just saying this because you hate me!”

Snape glared at him. ”Is that what you think?”

”And my father was hero! He died protecting us and you're just a lying old git!” cried Harry as he flew past Snape in a blur. Tears were forming in his eyes and as he flung the door open he heard Snape yell after him.

”Get back here at once! I have not finished with you!”

”I'm not talking to you ever again! I hate you!” Harry cried from a little ways up the stairs. He didn't look back but ran all the to his attic room and thus when he slammed the door shut and threw himself on his bed he could barely breathe due to the exertion and the sobs he was choking upon.

Harry spent an entire 15 minutes of his birthday staring at a corner and fighting the urge to rub his sore bottom. It was the unfortunate result of Harry snapping at his mother and refusing to open the present she and Snape had gotten him and then slamming the door as he stormed out. Of course it was really the result of Snape losing his patience as Harry had been anything but pleasant since their altercation. He refused to speak a word to his stepfather even if Lily begged him and never looked at him either. His mother couldn't understand why since neither of the two involved would really explain. Harry said nothing at all and Snape kept saying the boy was simply 'acting out' and needed a 'firm hand'. There had been plenty of that. Well, Harry wasn't about to accept anything that had Snape's name on it. In fact he detested the idea of Snape spending money on him. Of course he couldn't avoid it as he needed food, water and shelter but a birthday present was right out. Harry knew that he would never have hurt Lily – never! And how dared Snape say otherwise. He'd tried talking to his mother and she'd looked sad and said that a bad man once hurt Harry's father and herself but nothing more. In fact she spoke like she was talking about someone else. Harry was at the same time angry that she wouldn't speak about it, afraid of hurting her by bringing it up and unsure if she even recalled it.

Hogwarts was approaching fast and the closer they came to the date the sadder Lily became and the happier Madam Aoife became. Lily was excited for Harry but having your child leave for school was not easy either. Aoife on the other hand was gleeful now that Harry would be gone. And that was the only reason Harry endured sitting opposite Snape at meals. Initially he'd refused to come down for them but that meant he ate nothing or barely anything, courtesy of Aoife and Binn. Harry was certain about it now. He was going to get himself expelled and preferably in a manner that would cause the most trouble for Snape possible. Speaking of which, Snape's patience was almost non-existent again. It was clear to Harry now that the patience he'd shown earlier was courtesy of his mother but now he was back to his old self. Harry was sulking in the hallways when he heard something through the door to the parlor.

”It's hardly my fault...” snapped Aoife's voice.

”Is that so?” Snape replied coldly. ”And just how did he get in there in the first place?”

Harry gulped slightly. They were talking about yesterday when Harry found the door leading to the lab open again. He'd had a particularly nasty morning and decided to investigate further. After the wand incident Snape had made a point of always locking it. Of course the man himself caught him before he'd even reached the lab door and it didn't end well.

”What's it to me if you can't control one little brat,” Aoife spat. A sound followed which was rather like someone slamming either their hands or some object on the desk but he couldn't tell who did it.

”It just so happens that you are the only other person with a key,” yelled Snape and even though Harry wasn't the object of his anger he still winced.

”Binn likely forgot.”

”Binn has no business down there! Why would he go?” Snape continued. ”Shall I go down there and take inventory of the cellar storage? The spare silver perhaps?” Aoife made no sound and then Snape continued. ”If I find you've been stealing from me you will be out on the street before you can blink. The will cannot protect you there.”

”Some might argue what's down there belongs to me and not you,” sneered Aoife.

”Is that a confession?”

”You'll find nothing missing. Though I'd be surprised if you'd know that anything had gone considering the amount of interest you take in your family's heritage. I am not going anywhere. I belong in the house. Was there anything else, master?”

Clearly there wasn't because Harry barely had time to hide before Aoife stormed out. The following day, however, hiding turned out to be a terrible choice. Hogwarts was now only two days away and Lily had insisted they all spend the afternoon packing Harry's trunk together as a family. Harry couldn't stand the idea. Not only did it force him to think about having to leave his mother but Snape would be right there to gloat about it. He opted for simply not showing up although he knew either Snape or Aoife would search for him and eventually bring him. He was on the stairs when he thought he heard someone on the floor below and in his search for a good hiding spot he wound up in the gallery. He regretted the choice instantly when the first few in the line of mute Princes glared at him and mouthed things he was glad he couldn't hear. At least no one would think to look for him here. He wandered down the hall and tried not to look too closely at the people in the portraits. He reached the end where one of the only portraits he liked hung. It showed a young woman with long black hair. She didn't look that old in the picture – maybe 15? Harry wasn't sure. But unlike the other paintings there was a smile on her lips as she looked back at him. The brass plate on her frame read Eileen Prince 1936-1969 She was giggling and pointing at something but Harry couldn't hear due to the strange muteness of the paintings. He turned his head and stumbled backwards in surprise. A painting close by had a huge cut running diagonally across it and so the figure there was obscured but Harry knew who was in that portrait. That was Aoife's portrait.

”There you are! You filthy little...” hissed a voice from the other end and Harry looked up to see a flushed Aoife who had clearly been all over the grounds for him. She stalked towards him. Harry froze. There was no way to run but past her. ”It wasn't me,” was all Harry could think of saying.

”What are you...” Aoife began when her eyes fell on the painting. Her eyes widened in shock. ”You dreadful... horrid... disgusting... little bastard of a halfblood,” she said, almost whispering. She turned to grab him but Harry was already running. He ran under her arms successfully but the kick he didn't dodge. It hit him in the back of his knee and he fell to the floor. Soon another one followed to his side and Harry howled in pain. In the next instant he was flipped over to see Aoife standing over him like a shadow with her wand drawn. He tried to protest but this time no sound came. ”This is my home,” she stated almost as if she was speaking to herself. ”I was born here. My brother was an idiot if he'd rather fill these halls with the likes of you than give me what's mine. Well...” Here she landed another kick. Harry curled up in pain before attempting to get on his feet. He didn't make it as something burning hit him in the back. He didn't know what it was but it hurt like hell! In the next moment Aoife hoisted him up by his shirt, grabbed his arm tightly and slammed him up against the wall.

”You don't touch my things,” she sneered. ”Don't you dare touch my things.” She loosened the painful grip on Harry's arm slightly. But his relief was short lived. ”You destroy what I love... I will do the same to you.” Harry had never been this terrified in his life. His first thought was immediately of Lily and the fear in his eyes clearly pleased Aoife. ”Do you understand?” she cried and slammed him back against the wall.

”Yes,” Harry croaked, too distraught to realize his voice had returned.

”Good,” she nodded and released him completely. She straightened her back and looked strangely calm. ”The mistress will have completed your trunk by now. Dinner will be at seven.”

With this she turned and walked down the hall as if nothing had happened and Harry was never so relieved. He wanted to run straight to his mother and tell her but he knew that would upset her. Snape wasn't going to believe him either and would likely agree that Harry ruined the painting. Aoife's words still hung in the air. After all, she was a witch. But she couldn't get away with hurting Lily, could she?