Chapter Four
Chapter Four
A deathly silence followed the Hat’s proclamation. The Great Hall that was once bustling with the chatter of hundreds of voices hushed in an instant, like a short-lived flame of a dying candle. There were no cheers coming from any of the tables' occupants, and Harriet felt anxiety grip the confines of her heart like a vice. She had been paying attention enough to know that there was at least a smattering of applause for each Sorted first year, and yet, there had been none for her.
Harriet heard murmurs coming from the High Table behind her, and she felt her heart drop to some unexplored depth of her stomach. She couldn't see anything as the Hat's wide brim obscured her vision, plunging it into darkness. She felt like she had been doused with cold water when the Great Hall suddenly erupted in to a cacophony that reverberated in her skull. She knew that none of the other students had garnered this type of reaction, and this made her freeze in panic.
Her eyes shut tightly as the voices threatened to overwhelm her, the erratic beat of her heart a dissonance to her ears. Some of the voices rose above the others, and she could just catch snippets of the disheartening conversations around her.
"Reckon it made a mistake-"
"The Girl-Who-Lived in Slytherin-"
" -but You-Know-Who -"
Harriet felt herself sinking further down into unknown depths as blind panic overtook her mind amid the ensuing confusion, trapping her on the little island that was the stool in front of the raging sea of voices. Her thoughts echoed distantly at the back of her mind.
‘Hagrid had warned me about this.’
Oh yes, he had, hadn’t he? And yet, she had paid him no mind.
Her imagination ran wild as she pictured the looks on their faces, each alternating between thinly veiled disgust and outright hostility. Hagrid’s horror would be as plain as day on his face, seeing as he couldn’t hide his emotions very well. And Professor Snape, he would be…
‘Come to think of it… how would he take this, exactly?’
Almost instantly, Harriet felt some semblance of calm come over her, and only a few of her anxious thoughts trickled through. Try as she might, she couldn’t get a good read on the man from those scant few seconds they had held each others’ gaze. She certainly was more than curious about him.
She was still mulling this over when she felt the Hat being lifted from her head. Bright light flooded her vision as the Great Hall came into focus. She blinked blearily to clear the spots from her eyes and turned to gaze at the figure towering over her. Professor McGonagall’s face had gone chalk-white in the span of the few minutes that Harriet had taken her eyes off her. Her thin lips were set in a grim line and her stern face betrayed no emotion. Harriet couldn’t tell from her face, but she felt like the professor was emitting some form of…disappointment.
“Well, off you go then, Miss Potter.”
Harriet snapped back to herself and hopped off of the stool. Now that the Hat had been taken from her, she felt herself subjected to the onslaught of whispers. Strangers pointed their fingers at her in open judgement. Some glared at her in shock and disgust, verbally reprimanding her from their seats. They rang loudly in her ears and she tried her best to ignore them. She searched among the crowd to find a familiar face to comfort her amid her growing panic. Her head spun as she tried to make eye contact with someone, anyone, in the crowd that could give her some positive encouragement. She caught a flash of red in her periphery and turned toward it, and what she saw made her blood run cold.
Ronald Weasley was starring at her with such horror that Harriet felt herself rooted in place. His freckled face had gone as pale as death, in heavy contrast to his shocking-red hair. Then slowly, so slowly, his face started to morph into something Harriet was all too familiar with. She had seen such a look on her relatives’ faces more times than she could count, especially on the days of such particular misbehaviour on her part. Anger, and then… something more than that.
She didn’t have the heart to look somewhere else after that, for fear of getting that same reaction, especially from Draco, whom was in the same House as she was. She could have sworn that she heard him calling for her among the din, but she thought that it was probably her imagination acting up. She didn’t even know if Hagrid was in the Hall, and she didn’t bother to check. Boos erupted from the Gryffindor table as the Weasley twins added their voices to the mix.
Sheer panic overcame her at that moment, and she felt like she was falling into a bottomless pit. Despair clawed at her insides and made it’s home in her heart. Her breaths came in short busts, as she felt her lungs constrict further. She felt like she was choking on air, as she desperately tried to breathe. And all the while, only two things echoed in her mind.
'I…I never should have come here.'
'Aunt Petunia was right .'
Of course she had been, Aunt Petunia was always right, and yet, Harriet had disobeyed her, repeatedly, and she was now miles away from home. Even being faced with her aunt’s upset look would be a thousand times better than this endless ridicule. One thing rang true about herself, though: she had always been a nuisance, and being away from home didn’t change that
'...I can’t stay here. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.'
The chants echoed in her mind, making Harriet want to run away from it all. There was nothing for her here, she could see that now, and Aunt Petunia had been right about that, too. But then again, Harriet always thought that she knew best, and had once again, refused to listen to her. Harriet was way out of her depth here, so far away from the familiarity of home, and that new piece of information registered in her mind with a disturbing sort of realization.
Her mind spun as hundreds of half-spun thoughts spiraled in her mind, dragging her further away from the reality of her current situation. She could barely hear anything else now in her current state, which was why what happened next was… unexpected.
A sharp sound drew her attention to the High Table in that moment, and she could almost physically feel hope ignite in her chest.
Severus Snape had his hands together as they both made eye contact. The Great Hall was once again plunged in to silence befitting this once in a lifetime spectacle. It was so unexpected, so unlike his demeanor, that it made it all the more…intriguing.
He had clapped for her. Severus Snape had clapped for her.
Harriet could faintly hear the other Slytherins take his cue and start clapping, hesitantly at first, and then with more enthusiasm as the others joined in. She could hear Draco whopping along with the cheering coming from the Slytherin table, but all of that didn’t matter. Not at this moment.
They weren’t the ones she had eyes for.
Severus Snape stood out among them all from his seat as he led the applause.
Slow.
Clap.
Deliberate.
Clap.
…Captivating.
Harriet couldn’t take her eyes off of him in that moment, and she doubted that she would have if Draco hadn’t materialized next to her to practically drag her to her seat.
There were some lingering doubts at the back of her mind as she took her seat next to Draco, who was explaining that he had being trying to grab her attention for the past few minutes, but then again…
She turned around to look at the professor again, who was still looking at her. They made eye contact again, and she unconsciously smiled at him. He broke their staring and turned his attention elsewhere.
'He’s here. I’m going to be alright.'
…
The following days saw Harriet and Draco (along with Crabbe and Goyle) making their way to class. They had been lucky, too, as the Bloody Baron had fended off Peeves with his mere presence alone, allowing them to make it to their classes on time, with his directions.
The whispers still followed the Girl-Who-Lived wherever she went, but Draco set Crabbe and Goyle on the gossips quickly enough for them to get the message and leave her alone.
After reading a bit about the subject, Harriet’s fascination for Transfiguration extended to the realm of avid curiosity. Sure, the subject was interesting, and who didn’t want a teacher that could transform herself into a cat and back? But honestly, Harriet could feel that there was always something in Professor McGonagall’s eyes whenever she looked at her. Harriet didn’t dwell on it and instead tried to focus on her lessons. After all, she has to impress him.
The other classes continued to hold her interest and wonder, but of course, Harriet knew that her infamous misfortune would soon shine through, and this time, it came in the form of Defence Against the Dark Arts, and History of Magic.
DADA was tolerable, to an extent that is. The smell of garlic permeated the classroom with a cloying stench that made her eyes water, not to mention the fact that she got frequent pangs of pain from her scar, probably from the stench. But bloody hell was History of magic downright unbearable. Harriet tried really hard to listen, really, she did, but the way Professor Binns went on and on and on about the Goblin Rebellion was not meant for mortal ears, probably because he himself happened to be a ghost. She found it funny though, when Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle didn’t even try to listen. No, they just outright slept through the entire class. The only one who seemed to be getting much done was another first year student, the one Harriet had met on the train to school, who took down notes with such determination that was almost frightening.
'Her name was…um…Harmony, right?'
But as much as Harriet enjoyed her other classes -excluding the aforementioned two, of course - they weren’t the ones she was most eager for. No, of course not. That class was to be held on Friday morning, and to say that she was looking forward to it, was an understatement.
…
Friday morning dawned over the unsuspecting residents of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Its light painted the castle’s beautiful facade in its delicate glow, waking up some of its occupants with that alone. However, what the rest of the castle didn’t know was, in that moment, one Harriet Potter was already awake. Or rather than say that she was 'already awake’, it might be more suitable to say that…well, she never went to sleep at all.
Harriet had spent the previous night tossing and turning. Her nightmares seemed to be getting worse as the days passed, something that had never happened before. But that wasn’t what kept her up for most of the night. After her failed attempts at sleeping, she opted instead to reread her Potions textbook the entire night. She couldn’t fail to make a good first impression in his class. Sure, she’d heard rumors that Professor Snape favoured the Slytherins, but those were just rumors to her, and she needed more than that if she was going to get his attention. Hence, the studying. She heard her roommates start to stir and knew that it was almost time for breakfast. Hopping down from the bed with a groan, she hurried to the bathroom to freshen up for the day.
Harriet hadn’t given much thought about her appearance before, having never had a good reason to do so, but now, however, she couldn’t stand the thought of anything being out of place. It was hard enough with Pansy Parkinson saying mean things to her face and her hair, but… she glanced up at the bathroom mirror and almost dropped her toothbrush in shock.
Her hair was a tangled mess that stuck out all over the place. The clumps of hair on the left side of her face was plastered firmly against it, framing her pale face. Adding that to the wild look in her eyes from the sleep deprivation, and the bags that darkened around her green orbs, she looked like comedic, mad woman. As she took in more of her appearance, she couldn’t help but scrunch up her face in distaste. She certainly hadn’t needed the enchanted mirror’s comment of, “Oh dear! Don’t you look positively ghastly?”, to add insult to injury.
'What if he saw me like this?' Harriet shuddered at the thought. No, she wouldn’t be anything less than perfect for him.
She heard her roommates start to rouse in the next room and hurriedly went about her routine, and dashed out in record time to dress up and head out with Draco for breakfast.
…
Harriet’s stomach churned as she tried to keep down the slice of toast that she had reluctantly nibbled on at breakfast under Draco’s watchful glare. Now, as they sat in class waiting for it to commence, she couldn’t help but feel even more anxious than normal.
“You alright there, Harry? I could make Crabbe take you to Madam Pomfrey , if you wish.”
Harriet turned to see Draco leveling a concerned look in her direction. She shook her head and avoided his gaze. It was somehow making her feel worse. He frowned at her, and decided to let it go for now.
Harriet tried to distract herself by watching the other students in the classroom, some were still filing in, but others had been there early as well, like that Harmony girl. She was hunched up over a book and was muttering to herself as she read from it. She sat alone, as usual, except on the rare occasions that a nervous-looking Gryffindor boy sat by her.
She watched as Ronald Weasley barely make it to his seat before a hush descended in the classroom, snuffing out any lingering chatter in its wake. Harriet let out a squeak before she could control herself, and blushed so hard that her face and the tips of her ears turned an alarming shade of red, when Draco sent her a puzzled look.
Severus Snape seemed to emerge from the shadows as quietly as one who belonged to it, and blend into the world of the living with seamless perfection. The edges of the robes he adorned billowed out behind him in an imaginary wind, or perhaps out of sheer respect for him. His voice rumbled out over the now silent dungeon, bouncing off of the stone walls and flowing into Harriet’s ears, leaving a pleasant sensation in its wake. Her eyes followed his every move, as her heart pounded with the rhythmic tapping of his shoes. His gait commanded respect, and his eyes promised swift discipline to all those who dared to disobey him. Harriet never thought of herself as a poet, but she thinks that she may have become one since arriving at Hogwarts.
'Since I met him.' She thought.
An annoying noise pricked at her ear and she spun in its direction to assess it. Lo and behold, it was the Weasley boy at it again, sniggering with a two other boys in his House at the professor’s speech. She glared and hissed at them to keep quiet. They were being absolute nuisances and breaking her concentration from what was truly important here. Honestly!
Ronald cut her a dark look and hissed back with surprising venom in his voice.
“Don’t talk to me, you filthy, little traitor.”
Harriet blinked owlishly at that statement, trying to figure out what he meant by that for a moment. It took a few seconds but then it suddenly hit her and made her grow angry at the same time. This… was the House she was in so important that she had to be spoken to like that? She felt something ugly and foreign curl in her stomach at that, and made up her mind. She really did not like Ronald bloody Weasley. Deciding to ignore him, she turned her attention back to the lesson at hand so she wouldn’t miss anything, only to be met with a pin-drop silence from the rest of the class. That threw her off a bit, since she barely spoke to that weasel - as Draco had taken to calling him - for a few seconds.
She saw Harmony go as pale as one of the ghosts in less than two seconds, and though her eyesight was terrible, even Harriet could see that the poor girl was sweating bullets.
'How had I missed this?'
Harriet couldn’t see the professor anywhere at the front. She turned to question Draco, when she saw him smirking at something over her head. Puzzled, she followed his line of sight to where she had last spoken to Weasel, and she couldn’t help but let out a snort.
Severus Snape was standing behind the three boys in all his bat-like glory, watching them make fun of him, glowering down at them like insects he wishes to stomp on for his own pleasure, but can’t, because of the legal consequences. The foul look on his face remained until the aforementioned imbeciles finally noticed that there was something wrong. Harriet felt a thrill in her body when she saw Weasel glance up at Severus and go paler than Professor Quirrell talking about vampires.
"Weasley…,”he paused and glowered at the other boys, “and others. I had assumed that I was the only professor in this class, but it seems that, for the first time, and on such a rare occasion, I am mistaken.” He drawled. His gaze swept from each boy to the next, lingering just long enough to leave them terrified, before settling on Weasel again.
"So then, since you seem to be so... knowledgeable on this subject, I presume that you will have no problem answering a few basic questions." He continued. His robes flared out as he readjusted his arms, crossing one, and holding up the other to put a hand on his chin.
"Now, tell me, Weasley; what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”
Weasel blinked stupidly at Severus, as if he were speaking a foreign language. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly having no idea what the professor just said.
"I certainly do hope that you are attempting to answer my question, otherwise I would have to inform you that fish isn't one of the languages I am particularly...fluent in." Weasel went red in the face as the Slytherin side of the room erupted in laughter. Harriet could barely control herself as tears clouded her vision momentarily.
"I would assume you dunderheads are Finnigan and Thomas. Have a go at the question, then. I must clarify, however that, given your... intelligence, that was not a request." More silence came from the culprits, who had all gone red in the face with embarrassment.
'Serves them right.'
"Seeing as you imbeciles have wasted my precious time, one that I will never have again, there must be someone with a brain who could make an attempt. Now, would anyone else like to try?"
Harmony's hand shot up faster than Severus could finish the question. Severus regarded her neutrally, as if gauging what to say to her.
'No.' Harriet felt her heart leap to her throat. She knew the answer to the question. She saw Severus start to open his mouth.
'I can't let this happen.' She couldn't let him pay attention to someone else, not when she had been studying so hard for today. Before she could even think about what she was doing, her hand also strained upward, unconsciously.
Severus halted mid speech, regarding her with his dark eyes. Harriet could hear her heart pound in her ears as she desperately made eye contact with him, trying to convey her eagerness. She'd never gone out of her way to answer a question like that before in class, since Dudley didn't like that, but then again, Dudley isn't here. A beat passed, then two, as he assessed her calmly. He seemed to have made up his mind when he nodded in her direction.
"Yes, Miss Potter."
Harriet felt a thrill at having him say her name for the second time that day, since roll call. She tried not to focus on the attention she was suddenly receiving from everyone in her class. Her heart was going a mile a minute, but chose to only stare ahead, right at Severus. She took a second to gather herself before stuttering out her answer.
"A - um - that is - asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death."
Silence reigned in the dungeon as everyone turned to face Severus to see his reaction.
"... Correct, Miss Potter."
Harriet beamed at him with the intensity of a thousand suns. Severus frowned at her slightly in confusion, his gaze never straying from her, as if he were searching for something. He shook his head slightly and continued.
"Should I assume you already know what a bezoar is?"
" Yes, sir. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat, and it will save you from most poisons." She replied with slightly more confidence than her previous attempt.
Harriet saw Severus adopt his earlier pose in contemplation, steadily keeping eye contact with the girl. She was at the edge of her seat as she stared right back at him.
"One last question. What is the difference, Miss Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”
Harmony, who had been keeping her hand up for the duration of the quiz, suddenly shot out of her seat with her hand still in the air, straining forward to at least redeem herself at last. As he had done before, Severus pointedly ignored her, having eyes for only the Slytherin girl. Harriet could not fit the feeling she had at that moment into words. Her chest felt warm and her pale cheeks went rosy from the attention. Draco asked her once again if she was sure that she wasn't sick. She shook her head in a negative reply. Of course, Harriet knew that Draco could not even begin to grasp the rollercoaster of emotions that filled her whenever the man was around, and she sincerely hoped to keep that to herself for as long as possible.
"They are the same plant, sir. And it also goes by the name of aconite."
Once again, silence reigned between them as if they were the only ones existing in that space. Harriet might have missed it if she hadn't been looking at him dead on, and she knew that she had definitely not imagined it. His lips quirked upwards quickly and it was gone in an instant, settling back into his usual facade.
"How pleasantly refreshing. It seems that only Miss Potter saw it fit to open a book. Well, why aren't you all writing that down." He turned his attention to Harmony briefly, only to snap, "Sit down." The poor girl plopped onto her seat, having been quelled under the harsh glare Severus was sending the Gryffindors.
The sound of quills scratching on parchments filled the room, but Harriet was feeling numb all of a sudden, only writing in a mechanical sort of trance.
'He had smiled at me'
She glanced up from her work to shoot a quick look at him as he strode about the class. The pleasant numbness kept her looking at him through her fringe, never taking her eyes off of him.
"You don't have to be scared of him, you know." Draco intoned reassuringly. "He doesn't treat us Slytherins like that."
Harriet had completely forgotten that Draco was sitting next to her, startling her into dropping her quill.
"What?"
"I said you shouldn't be scared of Professor Snape."
She looked at him quizzically, only to remember that she had been making weird sounds earlier.
'Oh Draco, if only you knew.'
She laughed nervously. "Ye - yeah I'm not scared of him anymore. Thanks." She sent him a reassuring smile.
"... You're weird, Harry." He says in return. " But you're alright." He returned a genuine smile at her, very unlike the usual smirk she sees from him.
Harriet felt happiness bloom within her for the umpteenth time that day. She rode on that high for a while during that class, not thinking that there was anything else that could make her day better. It was almost at the end of class that she knew that her day could be way better. And she decided to ignore the fact that the nervous boy by Harmony had upended his entire cauldron, causing a short-lived mayhem to occur.
"Don't think that I had forgotten about you three dunderheads." The said 'dunderheads' froze where they were making quick work of packing there things, probably to beat a hasty retreat from the class and escape Severus' ire.
"Since you three imbeciles saw it fit to interrupt my class, that will be fifty points from Gryffindor for your cheek." The Weasel's jaw dropped in shock, staring at Severus like he had grown another head.
"Make it worse, Weasel." Draco whispered just behind her ear, when he had leaned in to watch the scene. A small, vicious part of Harriet also wished for him to make it worse somehow, just to see what would happen. Weasel was right, she was a Slytherin after all.
The planets must have aligned in her favour that day, because for some reason, the weasel decided to snap back.
"You can't!"
Severus raised an eyebrow at the moronic display that deigned to take place before his eyes.
Weasel, clearly stupid enough to not know when to shut up, and encouraged by the two others by him, barreled on.
"...clearly could have had her answer the question, but because you favour your house..." As the 'her' in question, Harmony had gone bone-white and was desperately signaling him to shut up, or leave her out of it, whichever it was, the idiot clearly didn't notice Severus' dark look getting darker by the second, to his House's detriment and to Harriet's and the Slytherins' enjoyment.
The numbskull finally stopped to take a breath, chest heaving as a smile plastered itself to his face, probably thinking 'I sure showed that bully of a teacher.'
If possible, the silence that enveloped the classroom was more silent than ever. It felt like an oppressive force weighing down on the entire classroom. Everyone collectively held their breath, awaiting the professor's judgement.
"I see. I must thank you, Weasley, for bringing my shortcomings to my notice."
Everyone seemed to be in sync today, because they simultaneously adopted puzzled looks, aimed at the professor. All except of course, the three culprits, who were shooting each other looks of admiration.
'Morons. They should be more cautious than that. Even Crabbe and Goyle looked surprised, for goodness sake!' Thought Harriet.
A sneer made itself known on Severus' face, making Harriet allow one of her own unconsciously.
'Here it comes.'
"Do allow me to correct myself. I didn't mean fifty points from Gryffindor," Weasel beamed at his short-lived victory, "I meant fifty points from Gryffindor,...each."
Like a bomb going off, the entire Slytherin side of the classroom erupted in laughter befitting the roar of a football stadium. The bell rang a moment later, and the Slytherins walked outside, each retelling their own version of the events, having left the Gryffindors in a state of shock in the class.
Draco was particularly ecstatic where he was by Harriet's side, with his neatly combed hair falling onto his face from all the excitement. Harriet beamed at him, glad that he was enjoying himself so much.
Her mind wandered to Severus as they walked to their next class, lingering on the small smile he had rewarded her. The pleasant feeling was back again, making her feel lightheaded. It was their own little secret, just between them, and she didn't feel like sharing it with anyone, not even her best friend Draco.
A secretive smile alighted her lips as she placed her left hand over her pounding heart, blushing a warm red.
'I hope he smiles at me again.'
...
Later that day, Harriet was skipping down the corridors on her way to the girl's bathroom, after narrowly avoiding Peeves' chalk attack. She had just made it inside when she heard sniffles coming from one of the stalls. She wanted to check it out, out of curiosity, but hesitated.
'What if it's another ghost? Oh, no. Don't tell me Peeves beat me here!'
But the sniffles had turned into full-blown weeping now, and Harriet wanted to do her business in peace. Taking a few more moments to steel herself for what she might find, she cautiously knocked on the door. The sniffling stopped immediately and then came the sound of someone rummaging about in the stall, then a quiet, watery voice murmured.
"Yes? This one's occupied you know."
Harriet raised her eyebrows in surprise. That was the last voice she was expecting. Why was Harmony crying?
"Are you alright in there?"
The silence was more than enough to answer her question. It was a pity, too. Harmony didn't seem like such a bad person either, from what she'd seen so far.
Harriet gulped as she thought of what she was about to say. She never had any other friends before, since she had been satisfied with Dudley being her only one. But now, making friends with another girl, and from another House no less...
"Do you- do you- um- want to talk about it?"
More silence came to her in reply. Giving up, she made to turn away from the door when it slowly creaked open. Harriet stopped to look at the girl behind her.
Harmony looked like she had been crying for hours. Her hair was extra bushy and her usually neat uniform had crinkles in it. Her eyes were red and swollen, and she wasn't helping by rubbing it as she was now doing. Harmony finally looked up at her with a guarded expression.
"Why?" Harmony questioned her.
Harriet frowned "Why what?"
"Why would you care? You're a Slytherin." Harmony said in accusation. "Are you going to make fun of me, too?"
Harriet grew offended at her goodwill being mistaken for mere bullying. She'd heard what the other Gryffindors in their class had said about her, calling her 'an insufferable know-it-all', and many other unkind things. She was pitiful, that's all. And here she was accusing someone who had never mocked her. The nerve.
'Well, it seems that she wasn't getting along with everyone much, as her name implied.'
"Well does anybody else care?" Harriet replied hotly.
Now that, had clearly been the wrong thing to say.
She saw Harmony blink in shock at that, and started to sob. Again. Harriet was taken aback by this display, having been expecting it no doubt, but still surprised none the less.
"Oi, I-I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."
That made Harmony cry harder, the sounds echoing in the otherwise empty bathroom. The next class would start in a few minutes, Harriet couldn't afford to linger here if she wanted to impress him . Her mind wandered a bit to earlier that day, recalling how he'd said her name, and the smile he had given her.
'Our very own secret.'
She blushed at the recollection, no longer paying the girl in front of her any mind. Which was why she was so startled by the hug she was tackled into. One moment, the other girl was blubbering across from her, and the next, bam, a hug.
Harriet took longer to react than she was proud to admit. No one had ever hugged her before. She'd seen Aunt Petunia hug Dudley and Uncle Vernon before, and had wondered what it felt like. Dudley had found the thought of Harriet hugging him 'icky', and Uncle Vernon hadn't cared for it. And Aunt Petunia... Harriet felt her heart ache at the thought of her relatives. Aunt Petunia had said that a misbehaving freak doesn't deserve any. Now, a stranger was clinging to her like her life depended on it, crying and blabbering on into her ear about how no one in her House liked her.
'I don't deserve this,' Harriet thought as her arms hovered over the sobbing girl's back, but hesitated. '...but it feels so nice.'
'Aunt Petunia doesn't have to know.' She thought rebelliously. 'Maybe- maybe just this once would be fine, right?'
Casting all her worries aside, Harriet hastily pulled Harmony closer. The other girl felt warm in their embrace, not the uncomfortable sort, but one that was unfamiliar, but somehow...nice. Harriet pulled the girl in closer, her arms growing tighter around her, trying to sink in further into that hypnotic warmth. Harmony's cries petered off, leaving her sniffling as she also held unto Harriet tightly. Harriet didn't know how long they stood like that, the other girl seeking a familiar comfort, and Harriet trying to hold on to a feeling she had never had before in her short life. Harmony eventually pulled away from her, a shy smile on her face as she cast her eyes to the floor, then her hands were on Harriet's uniform, trying to straighten it out as best she could.
"I'm sorry I cried all over you." She fussed. "I really shouldn't have done that. Oh, I don't even know what came over me, losing control like that..."
Harriet could only stay still as she gave a dazed reply of "It's fine," repeatedly, the faint words getting lost in Harmony's new tirade. She seemed to be doing better now, if she was worrying about such trivialities. Satisfied, she straighten up and regarded Harriet awkwardly.
"Erm- right. Th-thank you for that. It really helped, so..., yeah."
Harriet was confused. Why was the girl acting so weird now? She gave her a warm smile, which Harmony instantly returned.
"You're welcome."
Still smiling, Harmony cleared her throat, stuck out her hand, and said:
"It's probably a bit late, but we should get properly introduced. My name is Hermione Granger. And you are?"
'Ahhhh.'
Harriet blinked stupidly a few times, fighting the internal urge to cringe from having called the other girl- Hermione -the wrong name for goodness knows how long.
"I'm Harriet Potter. It's nice to meet you, Hermione Granger." Harriet returned as they shook hands. 'Her hand is so soft', Harriet noted.
"Likewise."
They stood there again, avoiding each other's eyes, not knowing what to say to each other after that. Hermione was slowly pulling her hand away when Harriet grabbed firmly unto it, and blurted:
"FRIENDS!" The shout was so sudden that Hermione, so badly startled, fell backward, pulling Harriet down with her. The landed in a heap, limbs akimbo while staring at each other in surprise.
"I'm- I'm sorry. What I meant was - um - do- doyouwanttobefriendswithme?"
Hermione stared at her, dumbfounded, before looking down again. Harriet saw that her shoulders were shaking, and wondered if she had started crying again. Harriet then realized how that would be like, with them being in opposing Houses after all, and felt saddened by that. While she herself didn't give a toss about it, she can't say the same for Hermione.
"Hey, hey, I'm sor-"
"Pfft."
The sound stopped her short when she recognized it for what it was. Hermione was laughing. Shoulders shaking from the force of her own laughter, Hermione looked up at Harriet's confused face, swollen eyes filled with mirth.
"Of course! Of course I would like that." She said through her laughter. Relief poured through Harriet in waves as she released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Harriet leaned forward and swept Hermione into another tight hug. Still giggling, Hermione returned it just as much. Harriet buried her own face into Hermione's bushy hair.
It was the start of a beautiful friendship.
...
Both girls hung out frequently after that. The library was their favourite spot, where they spend hours with their noses buried in tomes. It had become a custom for them to hug whenever they hung out. Hermione was confused by the gesture at first, but got used to it after a while. Something about their newfound friendship felt...surreal to Harriet. She had never been friends with another girl before, so she had thought that things would be awkward between them, but surprisingly, Hermione was so easy to talk to.
Draco and Harriet had gone down to the lake on a Saturday, quietly enjoying the late afternoon breeze that drifted from it. It was obvious that something was bothering him, so Harriet asked what it was.
Draco was upset that Harriet wasn't spending as much time with him anymore, so she told him about her friendship with Hermione. Needless to say, he hadn't liked it one bit. Harriet was scared of losing their own friendship, but at the same time,...being around Hermione was...comforting in a way she'd never felt before.
"But why her though? What's so special about her? She's just another Gryffindor. And a Mudblood at that." Draco said with surprising venom in his voice.
Harriet had been around the other Slytherins enough to know what that word meant, and hearing Draco call Hermione something so dirty... Anger grew hot in her chest at that.
"D- don't call her that!" She snapped. It wasn't fair! Draco didn't even know her, and yet he was calling her such a nasty name.
"And why shouldn't I?!"
"Be- be-" she gulped, not wanting to say what she had to next, but Draco had to understand that she couldn't just push the other girl out of her life. She sighed.
"Because I like her, alright! She's nice to me, and she's my friend, too, not just you. Hermione isn't like Weasel." Harriet explained.
"You don't know that. She could be pretending to like you!" Draco retorted hotly.
Harriet's face went slack with disbelief. She had, had her doubts, of course she had, about her friendship with Hermione. It was perfect, too good for the likes of her, but they are friends, right?
'Hermione likes me, right?'
Pieces of doubt that had stuck with her all this time niggled at her mind, tormenting her as she silently stared at Draco in shock.
'...But what if she doesn't?'
"You don't know that." She repeated quietly.
"And you do? Honestly, Harry, stop being such an idiot and see that the Mudblood is just pretending to like you." Draco sneered.
Harriet felt tears sting her eyes, threatening to spill, as her breath choked up.
"Don't call her that." Her voice wobbled as she continued, "I- if you do, I- I'll stop being friends with you."
The space between them grew silent as Draco withdrew as if he had been slapped. He looked as if a Befuddlement Charm had been cast on him, and then his face screwed up in anger.
"Well I'm clearly the only one who valued our friendship after all this time. Fine! If you like the Mudblood so much, then maybe she should be your only friend."
Harriet sat were she was, too stunned to form a reply to that. She didn't even have time to react when Draco got up and spun on his heel, leaving her behind as he made his way up to the castle in a huff.
Harriet could only sit there in her spot, frozen, as the whole world had suddenly gone quiet.
And for the first time in a long while, Harriet let silent tears flow down her cheeks.
...
The following days saw Harriet trying in vain to speak to Draco, trying to catch him after class, as he had taken to sitting elsewhere, and at mealtimes. She shot longing glances at him when their eyes would accidentally meet, only to be met with a sneer of derision in return. He deftly made sure to avoid her every time, using Crabbe and Goyle to block the way.
It hurt. It hurt every time he did that, but Harriet knew that she deserved it; all the pain and loneliness that came with it. All of it. It was her own fault that she had been such a bad friend to him.
Hermione greeted Harriet with a warm smile and a hug. Harriet held onto her a little too tightly, making her ask what was wrong. Harriet sobbed as she filled Hermione in on what had happened, leaning into the embrace. Hermione advised her to give it time, and then try again later, gently stroking her back in comfort. Harriet nodded in agreement, wiped away her tears and changed the subject, asking Hermione what new spell she had learned.
They settled in to the quietness of the library trading ideas and theories into the evening.
...
The day of Halloween dawned on Hogwarts.
Harriet had clambered excitedly out of bed to bathe and get dressed. She had seen some of the decorations the previous day and couldn't wait to drag her friends - Hermione around the castle to see them all. Her heart panged as she suddenly remembered that she only had one friend now, dampening her spirits slightly. All her efforts to befriend Draco again had been quashed.
She smiled bitterly. 'At least I've still got Hermione.' She remembered the bright smile the other girl would send her, and brightened up. Not to mention, Severus would be at the feast tonight, too. Her cheeks coloured as she blushed without restraint. She hurriedly went through her routine and rushed off to class.
...
The day went on splendidly up until lunchtime, when Hermione had excused herself and left in some vague direction. She had been looking off all morning, and when Harriet had tried to get it out of her, she had smoothly changed the subject. Harriet had let off, not wanting to pry and make her now only friend angry at her. But it had been a while now, and it wasn't like Hermione to skip classes, not to mention for the whole day.
Harriet glanced worriedly around the Great Hall that evening. She had watched as each of the other Gryffindor students arrived, but still no sign of Hermione. The feast will start soon, and she knew that Hermione wouldn't want to miss it.
"I have to go find her."
With that resolution, she snuck out of the Hall, not seeing the pair of eyes that followed her departure.
...
Harriet had an inkling as to where Hermione would be, and went there directly. Her intuition had been right, because as she opened the door, she was met with a sense of déjà vu.
Quiet sobs filled the bathroom as Harriet made her way toward the only occupied stall. She hesitated to knock on the door, but brought her fist down firmly on it. The sound stopped abruptly.
"Yes? This one's occupied you know."
Harriet couldn't help the small smile that curled on her lips.
"Are you alright in there?"
Hermione yanked open the door and threw herself at Harriet, sobbing into her shoulder. Harriet comforted her, patting her on the back, and was able to get the story of what was bothering her friend.
It seemed that Weasel and his crew were at it again. Harriet felt angry at the mention of that imbecile's name, plotting sweet revenge on him when they get out of here.
Hermione had stopped crying, now leaning against Harriet in exhaustion.
"I miss my parents."
Harriet's hand hovered over her back as she froze.
“Oh?”
“Mmmhm.” Hermione sniffled.
Harriet worried her lip as she thought this over. Of course it was normal to feel lonely here.
‘We’re all so far away from home.’ Harriet felt that familiar pang in her chest again, the one she had gotten so used to ever since she arrived here. She missed her relatives, so much that it ached, but she knew that it was for the best that she was away now. If she could grant them a brief respite from her presence, then she would have to bear it. She idly wondered if Hermione’s parents felt the same way.
“Hermione,…what do you think love is?”
Hermione withdrew from her and shot her a quizzical look, made all the more so by her red, puffy eyes.
“What?”
Harriet blushed crimson at Hermione’s incredulous look.
“You know what, just forget I said anything. I was just-”
"No, no. It’s alright. You just surprised me is all.” Hermione beamed at her in reassurance. Harriet relaxed at her words.
“So…are you going to tell me?” Hermione nodded in reply.
“Um- let’s see- where do I start?”
Harriet shifted from one foot to another as she waited for her to gather her thoughts.
"I... only know a few things about it from my parents. Are you...okay with that?"
Harriet gulped. She didn't know much about her own parents, only what Hagrid and Aunt Petunia had said about them. Speaking of Aunt Petunia...
'I wonder if they're doing well.'
She couldn't ever know for sure. She never received replies from all the letters she had written home, but it brought her comfort to know that at least the letters were never returned to her.
"It's fine, Hermione."
Hermione regarded her silently, her sharp eyes roaming her face. Seemingly satisfied, she spoke.
"Love is… love is a feeling, you know, like - um- the one you get when someone tells you that they love you. It’s also- um-"
Harriet waited patiently for her to continue, eyes fixed on the other girl, following every word.
"Love could be actions, too, not just saying 'I love you'. With my... parents-" Hermione paused, watching Harriet as she spoke, gauging her reaction. Seeing nothing, she continued, "well, Mum likes to tell me that she loves me, not all the time, but enough that I won't ever doubt or forget it. And Dad hugs me and kisses the top of my head whenever I sit on the sofa to read. They both even sneakily make me hot chocolate sometimes, telling me not to tell the other about it, since they're strict about sweets."
As Hermione spoke, her body started to relax where she leaned against the door of an unoccupied stall. A small smile had painted her lips as she recounted her tale, seemingly lost in memory. Harriet had leaned forward, rapturous, drinking in every word that flowed from her lips, but with a deep ache that equally balanced out the emotion.
"-and one time, when I was really little, I had ran out into the street next to my house. I hadn't checked if there was a car coming or not, and had just ran out in to the middle of the road. The car had stopped right in front of my face. It was so close that I could see my reflection on it." A shiver ran through Hermione as she spoke. Harriet couldn't imagine how the girl must have felt, having been so close to death that she could see the reflection of her own terrified eyes...
"What happened then?" Harriet urged her gently.
Hermione met her eyes, smiling. " I don't remember much after that, but one thing that stuck out was Dad screaming at me with the most terrified look I had ever seen on anyone's face, shaking me as he did, where he had grabbed me by my arms. And then he hugged me. I could feel how relieved he was after that. We never told Mum about it."
Harriet stayed silent like that for a while, digesting the new information she had been given. The ache in her chest grew to pangs as she regarded Hermione in a new light. How she wished that it was her in Hermione's place, to feel a parent's embrace. Harriet couldn't feel the resentment she had for Weasel toward the other girl. Not her. Hermione wasn't a bad person. She deserved her parents' love, all of it, and as for Harriet, well...
'I am a freak. I don't deserve anything. I shouldn't ask anything of my relatives, they do enough for me.'
But even at that, she couldn't help it, the longing that clawed at her insides, yearning for something so far out of reach. She pressed her hand to her chest, right over her heart, where it hurt the most, and sighed.
"Thank you, Harriet." Harriet blinked owlishly at Hermione, whom was now giving her warm smile. "I needed that...so, thank you." Harriet returned the smile in kind, feeling the pangs recede slightly.
"We're friends, Hermione, so...please call me Harry." Hermione pulled her into another hug and said into her ear.
"Alright, but only if you call me Mione." Harriet's heart felt her heart flutter so hard that she felt it as vibrations down to her feet. Or so she thought. Hermione pulled away and held her hand, tugging her toward a wash basin.
"Come on, we don't want to miss the feast." They cleaned up quickly, and Harriet, holding onto Hermione's hand pulled her along as she skipped toward the open bathroom door, only to stop dead in her tracks the next moment, making Hermione yelp as she collided painfully with her back. But Harriet barely felt anything.
She had thought that the tremours she felt earlier were just a figment of her imagination, but it seems like this was not the case. Harriet gestured for Hermione to be quiet, and peered just outside the door. Her heart plummeted to her stomach so fast that she felt herself go dizzy.
It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long. And for they love of God, the stench was awful. It was only a few feet away from the door, too close for them to make a break for it. It was sniffing, as though searching for something, and then it trained its eyes at the door.
Harriet yanked on Hermione's hand and blindly dragged her into an empty stall and locked it.
"What- what's wrong, Harriet?" Hermione whispered fearfully.
Harriet was shaking, her mind ran a mile a minute trying to figure out a way to escape. She could only hope that the troll would walk past and leave them alone, but it seemed like that was too much to wish for.
They both froze as the heard the low grunt in the bathroom, accompanied by the sound of something being dragged along the tiled floor. The unbearable stench finally reached both their nostrils, and Harriet saw exactly when fear registered in Hermione's eyes. She could only mouth one word to her.
'Troll.'
The thumping footfalls and the sniffing were getting closer as the seconds ticked by. Hermione had gone so pale that it was alarming. She had started to hyperventilate, the gasps would no doubt draw the trolls attention to them now. Harriet wanted to do anything she could for her at that moment, but she couldn't move. She could do nothing but stare at her, her own heart was in turmoil at their present situation.
They heard it stop at the stall next to theirs and sniffed, then all went silent. Panic had settled in, keeping them in place. Harriet knew why that was, but she kept her eyes trained on Hermione, who was now starring right above Harriet's head. Harriet hadn't wanted to look, but her own terror propelled her to.
The troll was peering into the stall below, its grotesque face set in a hungry grin. Its eyes were locked firmly on Hermione, who had gone as pale as the Gryffindor ghost, in sharp contrast to the looming shadow cast on her face. Her eyes were wide and unseeing, and Harriet wondered, in some detached part of herself, that if this was the last expression she would see on her other best friend's face. Harriet heard the scrape of broken tiles, and saw the enormous club the troll lifted above its head. Some part of Harriet's mind sparked to life, and she moved.
She slammed the door open and ducked between the troll's legs, been narrowly missed when the troll turned its attention to her and brought its club down a hair's breath behind her, peppering her with bits and pieces of broken porcelain. Harriet was just past the bathroom door when she noticed two things:
One, that the troll had ceased pursuing her and
Two,... Hermione wasn't behind her.
Harriet felt her heart skip a beat as the panic that had started to disappear returned tenfold. She raced back to the door, and what she saw made her cry out in anguish.
Hermione's small form was huddled on the floor, resignation plain on her face for her murderer to see. She must've heard Harriet return, because she looked in her direction, and gave her a hopeful look, ignoring the club poised to end her life. She stretched out a hand toward her friend, as if she could reach her in her final moment.
"Harry,...you came back." She spoke in a small voice, only for the two of them to hear, just like she always did. And then the club. Came. Down.
Harriet was moving toward her before the thought fully formed in her mind.
'No.' The club broke through the frame, it's fragile wood caving in.
'NO!' She saw Hermione's eyes, still trained on hers, with that hopeful look in them, as if she'd save her.
"NO!" The scream tore at her throat, as she saw that Hermione's outstretched arm never wavered, even as the club was now less than a foot away from her head.
... Harriet could only say the first spell that popped into her head, not even realizing that she now had her own wand in her hand.
"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA."
Time seemed to stop as the club momentarily hovered on the top of Hermione's head, and suddenly yanked out of the troll's reach, high above its own head. Harriet let it drop, just missing to hit it in the head, and instead making the club land painfully on its shoulder. It's loud groans shook the the walls as Harriet scrambled the last few feet to reach Hermione. She yanked her roughly to her feet, dragging her to the door. Harriet realized too late that she had underestimated the troll's reach.
The club connected with the remaining basins beside her, which sent her and Hermione flying. They tumbled as they landed right by the door, their way to salvation. Her vision had gone blurry, and a cut above her right eye had started to bleed profusely from when she had tumbled, losing her glasses in the process. The hand that she had held her wand in was now empty, making her overstressed heart stutter once more. Harriet heard Hermione cough beside her and tried to grab her hand again.
"Come on, Mione. We have to leave. Harriet hiccupped. She pulled at her hand insistently, trying to get her to budge, but she remained motionless.
Harriet's heart tore at her as she started to cry. Everywhere hurts. Even such a simple movement had her gasping for air.
'The both of us are going to die here. If only I hadn't asked her to answer that stupid question, we would have left here earlier. If only I hadn't been so selfish...'
Harriet managed to pull Hermione to her, cradling the unconscious girl to her chest. She ignored every ache and pain as she did so. If this was how they died, then she doesn't want to spend it alone.
Harriet prayed for someone, anyone, to come save them, as the ghastly club was raised once more.
'Aunt Petunia.'
The club came down.
'Draco.'
It was close, so close.
'... Severus.'
Harriet kept her eyes firmly fixed on her encroaching doom, facing it head on
"SECTUMSEMPRA." Came a voice she thought she'd never hear again.
Harriet saw the arm wielding the club fall in front of her, leaving a bloody stump in its wake. Foul blood sprayed all over her face and the troll's howls of pain echoed in the destroyed room, but that didn't matter, not in this moment, for something amazing had grabbed Harriet's fading attention.
She could only see the blur of something fluttering. His magnificent figure had been obstructed by Harriet's damnable eyesight. But in her mind, she could picture him just perfectly, in all his magnificence, coming to rescue them- her- , like the dark knight he was.
"Avada Kedavra." The troll's howls had ceased, and it suddenly went down with a crash that shook the floor.
It was all quiet now, save for the rushing of water that came from the destroyed bathroom, and Hermione's soft breathing. All through this, Harriet had kept her eyes locked on the blurry shape, which had now moved, and she assumed was now facing her. It rushed to her and grabbed her by her shoulders, shaking her.
"-honestly think you could take on a troll by yourself-" The frantic voice filled her ears, drowning out everything else. She was so tired, but she was safe now, of that, he was sure. The gave him the brightest smile she could manage at that moment, making him halt his tirade.
"I knew you'd come."
And in true Harriet fashion, she passed out.
...
Harriet woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling. She barely suppressed a groan, which notified the person seated by her side.
"Harry!" Harriet turned toward the voice, and felt her glasses being placed on her face.
Draco's worried face filled her unfocused vision. Behind him were Crabbe and Goyle, who were watching the scene uncertainly.
"You could have died, you idiot! What were you thinking? If I hadn't seen you leave-"
Wait! Draco was the one who called for help?
"Thank you, Draco, truly."
He scoffed. "Don't be surprised, of course I found help."
Harriet felt happiness bloom in her chest. Accompanied by a sudden rush as information from the night before.
'Mione.'
'The troll.'
'SEVERUS.'
She suddenly sat bolt upright, startling Draco in to pulling away from her.
"Wait! What happened to the troll? And Hermione, where is she?!"
"Woah, Harry, calm down, it's dead! And your...," He scowled, "friend ...is over there." She turn and saw Hermione sleeping peacefully in the next bed. A sigh of relief escaped her as she slumped into her own bed.
Draco gestured for the other boys to leave, and when they did, Draco faced Harriet. She gulped as she thought of what he was going to say.
A beat passed between them, then two, and he still sat there in silence watching her.
"Why?"
Harriet was puzzled. What was he asking her about anyway.
"Why did you risk your life to save hers?"
Why didn't Draco understand? There wasn't any special reason why she did it, it was only because:
"She's my friend, Draco." He turned his face away from hers to hide his expression, but Harriet had already seen the hurt hidden in his eyes.
"And I'll do the same for you, too. Because you're my best friend, Draco." She put all her emotion into that last sentence, hoping that he would hear the sincerity in her voice.
He looked back at her in surprise.
"Do you really mean that?"
"With all of my heart."
His surprise melted away and was replaced with a smirk.
"I knew it. You are weird, Harry."
"Oh, shut up." She gave a mock retort.
"Friends?" She asked, with her arm outstretched toward him.
"Best friends." He smiled as he took her hand in his.
...
"I just don't see why you don't want to come with me to Malfoy Manor. Honestly, do you want to spend Christmas alone in the castle? Every other Slytherin is leaving."
Harriet sighed heavily. They had been having this conversation non-stop for a week now, ever since she'd told him about it. The Great Hall was almost empty now, save for the two of them, where they were having breakfast.
"It's like you said. I just want to spend Christmas in a real, magical castle, Draco. I was raised by muggles, do you know how rare this opportunity is?"
"Then you could just spend it here next year." He argued in turn.
"I promise you, I'll spend Christmas with you next year, alright?"
He raised an eyebrow incredulously. " Promise?"
"I promise."
"Hmph. Fine."
Harriet beamed at him in thanks. They were done conversing just as Hermione came by.
"Hi, Harry."
"Hi, Mione."
Hermione and Draco regarded each other. Ever since the 'Troll incident', there had been a truce between them.
"Granger."
"Malfoy."
Even though, their greetings ended there, Harriet was glad that they were getting along, at least.
"We need to leave soon if we want to catch the train."
Draco got up to leave. "We'll see when I get back, Harry."
"Wait." Harriet hopped from her seat and pulled him into a hug. Draco blushed in embarrassment and left quickly, before Harriet could think to pull him into another hug.
Harriet then embraced Hermione tightly.
"Stay safe, Mione."
"You too, Harry."
Harriet watched as Hermione left, leaving her alone in the Hall.
...
Harriet awoke on Christmas morning to a pile of presents at the foot of her bed. She scrunched her brows in confusion, thinking that maybe the presents were for someone else, before she remembered that she was the only one in the dorms. She approached the presents hesitantly, hand hovering over the one at the top, then turned it to read the tags.
The largest ones were from the Malfoys, with Draco's being the largest of all. She opened theirs first, and out poured piles and piles of expensive clothes. There was perfume among them, too, with jewelry in neat little boxes. Draco's was a mountain of candies, some familiar and others that she had never seen before.
Her next present also contained candy — a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.
There was one from Hagrid. Harriet raised her eyebrows in disbelief. She hadn't seen, nor heard from him since her arrival. It was honestly a little suspicious, but she opened it anyway. A wooden flute landed in her palm. It looked hand-carved. There was a letter attached to it, asking her to meet him in a few days. She'll decide on that later.
She didn't bother to check for a present from her relatives, already knowing that there wasn't going to be one.
The last present was in an unassuming package, right at the bottom. Harriet turned it over in her hands to find and indication of the sender, but there seemed to be none.
Growing highly suspicious on the package, but at the same time curious, she opened it tentatively.
The material from within poured out like water unto her bed. She lifted it and turned it around in her hands, getting a feel of it. It was the softest thing she had ever felt in her life. A note had fluttered out of it, with the words:
Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you.
Use it well.
A Very Merry Christmas to you
Harriet couldn't believe it. She thought that her parents had only left her some money, but this as well? Why wasn't it in the vault anyway? She shook her head to clear out the pointless thoughts, it's not like anyone could tell her about it anyway. The letter wasn't even signed. Curiosity urged her to try it on, and when she did, her jaw dropped.
Her body was gone. There wasn't any sign that the rest of it was even attached to her floating head.
Harriet smiled as she thought of all the things she could get up to with it.
This was going to be fun.
...
Harriet hurried on to breakfast, fearing that she was late, since she had been trying on the clothes she got from the Malfoys. All the heads of House were there, with only a few students. Draco had been right, she really was the only Slytherin student left in the castle.
All the other seats had been taken, the only one left vacant was...next to Severus. Harriet blushed as she remembered what Hermione had told her in the bathroom. She also remembered how Severus had grabbed onto her. She trembled at the memory, fighting to regain control over herself, she made her way to the vacant seat, greeting everyone as she went.
Harriet was blushing heavily as she fought the urge to stare at him. She had sat so close to him, so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. She sniffed in his direction, careful to be subtle. It was faint, but he smelled of something sweet. Harriet made note to find out exactly what that scent was, even if it killed her.
Harriet turned her attention to her food. She couldn't afford to lose herself here, not now when she was so close. She felt eyes on her, and made the mistake of looking up.
Blue eyes twinkled at her from behind the frames of half-moon glasses. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was watching her with mirth. Harriet saw his great beard twitch in to a smile as their eyes met, and she blushed mightily.
'How long has he been watching me?'
Breakfast went smoothly after that, with Harriet not deigning to meet anybody else's eyes.
...
Harriet dashed down unfamiliar corridors, all the while careful not to make the cloak tangle around her feet, because if she fell, it was game over for her.
'How could I have been so stupid? Of course Filch hadn't taken a vacation!'
Her plan to explore the castle and 'accidentally' find Severus' rooms had gone awry in the most awful way. In her attempt to sneak about in the dark, she had unfortunately trodden on Mrs. Norris' tail, who had then gone to get Filch.
Her heart hammered as she ran on, past suits of armour and sleeping paintings. Closed doors ran on each side of the corridor, each looking like they won't budge an inch, even if she tried to open them with magic.
Harriet was getting tired, and she urgently needed a place to hide. She scanned the corridor desperately for such a place, and her eyes honed in on a door left ajar. Throwing caution to the wind, she threw herself in and locked it, just as Filch went past her hiding place.
Harriet panted harshly, barely getting enough air into her lungs. She hadn't been this scared since the night of the 'Troll incident'. Pulling back from the door, she turned to survey the room she had found herself in.
It looked like an unused classroom, with the chairs and desks stacked to one side. But that was the least important thing about the room.
Leaning against the far wall was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
Harriet stepped closer to observe it, but noticed that she couldn't see her own reflection. She was puzzled, but belatedly realized that she was still under the cloak. She took it off and stumbled back when she saw her reflection.
Severus was standing behind her. She turned, excuses at the tip of her tongue, but found only an empty space behind her. Harriet spun back to the mirror, and sure enough, there he was, looking down at her with a look she had only seen Uncle Vernon direct at Aunt Petunia.
Harriet stepped closer to the mirror, touching it curiously, Severus mirrored her (pun intended), and pressed his hand against hers. She stared up at him in wonder, even though they were separated by the mirror, Harriet reckoned that she could still feel the pressure of his palm against hers.
Exhaustion had caught up to her, so she laid on the floor, hand still on the mirror. She watched as Severus followed suit, never taking her eyes off of him.
Harriet committed every bit of his face to memory, every eyelash, and even how dark his eyes were.
For the first time in a while, Harriet slept peacefully without nightmares.