When the pandemic was first mentioned in the newspapers, Severus Snape was possibly one of the people least worried about it.
He was unlikely to get the so-called “American Fever” as he only left Hogwarts in the summer holidays, which were still far away.
If he did get it, and if he did die from it – who cared? Certainly not he. His life was misery, anyway.
The only person he had ever loved was long dead, too.
Admittedly, he would miss Dumbledore a bit if the old man were to kick the bucket. And, yes, admittedly, some of his colleagues ... almost all of them.
Even McGonagall. After Slytherin had won the house cup a couple times, Severus got the impression that McGonagall actually respected him as her equal, and he liked that feeling way too much to want her gone.
Still. With the exception of the Malfoy family, who no doubt had already fled to some holiday home on a remote island, everyone he (somewhat) cared about lived at Hogwarts, and Hogwarts was not in danger until the summer holidays, at which time the pandemic would probably be over.
As it turned out, Severus had been mistaken.
In October, Madam Pomfrey reported the first case at Hogwarts. A Gryffindor student who had snuck out to drink a butterbeer in Hogsmeade.
Severus suggested to have the boy’s dormmates and his friends quarantined, too, but as usual, no one listened to him.
A couple days later, it turned out several of them had been infected.
At this point, Severus realized that the death of a student, especially one of his Slytherin students, would make him ... deeply uncomfortable, because it would make him look like a failure, no other reason, of course.
And just after he had reluctantly acknowledged that fact, he read in the Daily Prophet that children were most likely to die from the American Fever.
Most at risk were those under the age of eleven. Well, at least that was something, other than Draco he didn’t know any children under ... oh.
Well. There probably was no danger. But, still ... he had sworn to protect ...
Severus stayed behind longer than was his wont, and instead of going to start his potions lesson, walked with Dumbledore when the old man finally finished breakfast. “Heard anything from the Potter girl recently?”, he asked as nonchalantly as possible. “She’d be in the highest risk group, wouldn’t she?”
Dumbledore looked at him over his half-moon spectacles. “You never asked about her before, Severus.”
“There was no reason. You told me you had made sure she was safe. But this ... perhaps it would be ... advisable to ascertain that the Potters don’t expose her to any unnecessary risks.” James Potter certainly would take her to a Quidditch match or something foolish like that if he were still alive. His relatives might be as foolish.
“The Potters? Oh, no, Severus, she is the last of that family line. I put her with Lily’s relatives.”
“Lily was an orphan when she died, which relatives are you talking of?”
“Her sister, of course.”
No. No! He couldn’t have! “You cannot be serious.”
“Petunia is her last living blood relative. And this way, the Girl Who Lived will have a semblance of a normal childhood.”
That would be a valid argument if not ... “Yes, but ... Petunia!” He vividly remembered the nasty girl. His own dislike for her, he could leave aside, after all he did not like the Potter girl, either. But Petunia had broken Lilys heart. Slowly and cruelly. So often Lily had cried because of her ...
Putting Lily’s daughter with Petunia was about as wise as putting Potter’s daughter with Severus.
“In any case, since you tasked me with protecting the girl, I feel it my duty to pay the family a visit. Just to make sure they even know how to get her to St. Mungos.”
“Muggle hospitals are well equipped to handle the disease.”
Severus hesitated. If he insisted, would Dumbledore give him the address? Or would he refuse and make sure Severus did not find it out any other way?
“Very well, then. I just want it on the record that if Petunia gets the girl killed, it will not be my fault.”
Dumbledore chuckled. “Of course, Severus. Of course. ”
His first class that day was Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw, first years, so no one dared ask why he was late.
Severus ended the lesson early and flooed to McGonagall’s office.
“May I have a look at the book of names?” he asked when she looked up. “It just occurred to me that I should talk to those of my students who have younger siblings about staying at school over Christmas.”
“It is October!”
“And soon it will be November, and then Christmas will be there in no time. The earlier I get things done, the better. You surely don’t think the epidemic will vanish in a couple months?”
“They will find a cure.”
“Typical Gryffindor”, he muttered. “Too optimistic for your own good.”
McGonagall smiled fondly. “And you are a grumpy pessimist, always preparing for the worst. Have a look if you want, but let the quill do its work.”
“Thank you.” He went to the desk and thumbed through the book hastily.
There it was.
Harriet Potter
The Cupboard under the stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
Severus copied it with a spell, then went about the task he had told the deputy headmistress about. The best lies were, after all, those that were actually true.
Only once did the pages pull away from him and the book opened at an empty page so a new name could be recorded. Birth rates had been low the past years.
He was done just when it was time for his next class.
Petunia. What had Dumbledore been thinking? This just ... Petunia was bound to have messed up in some way, he was sure.
It wasn’t like he was worried. But he had given his word to protect the girl, for Lily’s sake, and he would keep his word. Even if Dumbledore thought there was no danger. The man had erred before.
Because he was not worried, he would not go immediately.
And tomorrow was a Saturday. His absence would barely be noticed, then.
In the evening, he took a Dreamless Sleep potion, as he always did during this time of the year, and went to bed.
It was seven a.m. on Saturday when he finally walked to the boundary of the Hogwarts lands and apparated to London.
Not having been able to find a photo of the house he was looking for, he had to take public transport. Annoying, but at least it would ensure he would not arrive too early.
Petunia’s undisturbed sleep was of little consequence to him, but if he drew too much attention, Dumbledore might hear about it.
It was already late morning when Severus had located the house and rung the doorbell, then stepped back. He had cast a shield charm on himself to avoid infection, but he didn’t want to explain that to Petunia.
The door was opened only a little bit. “You!”, Petunia hissed. “What do you want?”
Charming as ever.
“How is the Potter girl?”, he asked, a bit louder than he would usually have spoken.
“She’s fine. Leave.” Petunia threw the door shut.
What had he been thinking? Had he actually expected ... yes, he had totally expected Petunia to let him enter the house, if only because she didn’t want the neighbours to notice him.
Now, though ... he had seen hardly anyone during his journey. The muggles stayed at home to not spread the disease.
Severus walked away, in case Petunia was watching from a window, then hid between some bushes and cast a disillusionment charm on himself.
One spell later he quietly entered Petunia’s house.
The inside was, just like the outside, disgustingly neat and clean and boring. There were two doors to choose from – kitchen and living room, probably, the family would be there at the moment – and a staircase.
If the Potter girl was down with American Fever, she was probably in her bedroom upstairs.
Except ...
Surely not.
But since he was here, anyway ...
Severus tried the door to the cupboard under the stairs. It was locked.
The girl must have gotten up to some mischief in there when he had copied the address, and now it was locked to prevent ...
“Aunt Petunia? Can I have another glass of water? Please, I’m so thirsty ... I promise I’ll be good.”
Petunia had done what?!
Severus raised his wand. “Alohomora.”
The door sprang open.
Chapter 1