Home is where...
Severus stood at the doorstep of Number 4, Privet Drive, his dark eyes narrowed in disgust. The suburban blandness of the house, with its perfectly trimmed hedges and neat exterior, did little to mask the vile reality hidden behind its walls.
There was no car in the driveway he noted, however he could hear sounds of pots and pans clanging around inside. Perfect. He rapped sharply on the door, his knock echoing with cold authority. Moments later, Petunia Dursley opened it, her face immediately contorting into a mix of shock and fear. She recognized him, of course. And she understood what he represented.
"You! Sni- What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice thin and high, though there was no real courage behind it. Her hand hovered nervously on the door as though she could shut him out if she willed it hard enough.
Snape stepped forward, forcing her to retreat as his presence filled the narrow hallway. His black cloak billowed behind him, dark as a storm cloud, and his gaze—piercing, cold, and full of barely restrained loathing—bore into her with the intensity of a snake watching prey.
"Where is the girl’s room?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Petunia flinched, but tried to compose herself. "She’s not here," she said quickly, trying to sound firm. "She’s at… at that school for your sort."
"I am well aware of that," Snape drawled, his tone cold enough to freeze the air. He took another step forward, towering over her now. "I have come on Headmaster Dumbledore’s orders to see the conditions in which she lives… or rather, survives. Show me."
Petunia’s lips thinned into a grim line, but she didn’t dare refuse. She cast a nervous glance over her shoulder, clearly hoping Vernon or Dudley might appear, but she knew it was futile, they weren’t home and there was no one to rescue her from the dark figure in her hallway. Wordlessly, she began to ascend the stairs, her steps quick and shaky. Snape followed, his black eyes never leaving her trembling form.
They reached the top landing, and there it was—the small, narrow door. Harriet’s room. Snape’s gaze locked onto it, his eyes taking in every cruel detail: down to the multitude of locks. His lip curled in disgust. His pale hand twitched toward his wand, a subtle reminder of the power he could unleash with a mere flick of his wrist.
"Open it," he commanded.
Petunia hesitated, her bony fingers fumbling with the keys as she unlocked the door. When it finally swung open, Snape stepped inside, his expression hardening as he surveyed the small, dusty room. The musty smell of bird droppings combined with the stifling stale air from the enclosed room instantly assaulted his nostrils. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a broken window frame with iron bars laced across its shattered panes, clumsily placed against a gaping hole on the wall which was no doubt its original location. The rickety bed tucked in the corner was barely fit for a child and the meagre, worn blanket sprawled across it seemed to mock the very idea of comfort. Everything reeked of neglect.
He felt the weight of the room pressing down on him, the cruelty that had been inflicted here so clear it was almost tangible. Snape’s eyes darkened with fury, a storm brewing just beneath the surface. He could very much put together exactly how the girl was forced to live. Like a caged animal, scorned and hidden from the world. He turned to face Petunia, who stood frozen in the doorway, wringing her hands nervously.
"You had her living like this," Snape said, his voice a venomous whisper. "You starved her. Locked her away like a beast."
“She’s unnatural,” Petunia blurted, her voice trembling but still filled with the old resentment. "We—Vernon and I—we had to keep her under control. She’s dangerous. You don’t understand what it’s like—"
"I understand perfectly," Snape interrupted his voice now a deadly whisper. He took a step toward her, and Petunia shrank back against the doorframe.
"You, who should have cared for her, protected her, instead chose to act out of spite and jealousy. And why? Because she’s a witch? Because she reminds you of the sister you never could be?"
Petunia’s face turned white, her lips trembling. "Lily was… she was always the favourite. Always…perfect. How dare she ruin my life by burdening me with her freakish child!"
Snape’s nostrils flared, his patience wearing thin.
"Do you think that justifies what you’ve done?" His voice was now an icy snarl. "You are no better than the rodents that scurry beneath the floorboards of this miserable house. You are worse. And you will pay for it."
Petunia gasped, her back pressed against the wall as Snape advanced on her, his face inches from hers now. His eyes were black, fathomless pits of rage.
"You and your husband will not touch the girl again," he said, his voice so low it barely registered as human speech. "You will not dare raise a hand or a voice to her, and she will be fed regularly. I hear one word, one whisper of mistreatment, I will return and I will turn your son into a pig and feed him to you both."
His words hung in the air like a death sentence. Petunia’s breath came in shallow gasps, her wide eyes filled with terror. She tried to speak, to justify herself again, but no sound came out. With a sneer, he turned away from her, his black cloak swirling as he strode down the stairs. Petunia stood frozen at the top, her legs trembling beneath her. Snape reached the front door, his hand pausing on the handle. He glanced back, his eyes once again boring into her from across the house.
"Remember this well Petunia," he said. "I am always watching."
And with that, he swept out into the night, ensuring he was well under the shadows before apparating to the edge of Hogwarts’ borders. It was getting late but that did not deter him in the slightest.
He had a lot to discuss with Dumbledore.
Harriet stepped into the Gryffindor common room and almost sank to the floor in relief. The rest of her summer passed too smoothly to be true so she honestly should have expected something like this to happen. She was too happy and too content to be with the Weasleys, surrounded by magic and friends who felt like family. It was a bittersweet feeling when it was time for them to leave. All was well until it was time to get back to Hogwarts, but really, she should have expected it.
After all, her life never did seem to go well for too long.
After the meeting with Dumbledore about the Weasley’s car flying into the Whomping Willow, she was sure she and Ron would’ve been expelled. Thank Merlin Dumbledore listened to her about Dobby’s sabotage all summer and let them off with only detention. She would’ve had to kiss Hogwarts goodbye on her first day back.
“Harriet, are you alright?” Hermione Granger’s voice was filled with worry as she rushed to her side.
“I’m fine,” Harriet replied with a forced smile. “It’s just been a rough evening.”
Ron looked furious. “That arshole Snape, he could’ve gotten us expelled! How was it our fault that platform wouldn’t let us through? I’m glad we got to speak to Dumbledore after Snape caught us or else that slimy git would’ve had us thrown out immediately”
Harriet shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “We’re here now, and that’s what matters.”
Ron groaned and dropped himself onto one of the red plush armchairs around the fireplace.
“Mum’s going to absolutely kill me, if the detention doesn’t do it,” he said, a look of horror flashing across his face.
“Ronald you’re lucky you’re even alive in the first place!” Hermione chided, “You could’ve gotten you and Harriet killed or even worse, expelled.”
Harriet rubbed her temples, not wanting an argument to break out.
“Guys it’s late…And it already happened, let’s just forget about it and move on okay?” she said quietly, “I’m tired so I’m gonna head up to bed.”
Hermione watched her with a concerned look as she got up to go but didn’t make any moves to stop her. Ron and Hermione knew when Harriet was down like this it was best to really let it go.
That night, Harriet lay in her four-poster bed, listening to Lavender’s light snores, tossing and turning. For some reason, she couldn’t chase away the gnawing unease in her stomach. Why would Dobby go to these lengths to keep her away from Hogwarts? He already said it was not Voldemort, so she couldn’t understand what could be so terrifying and threatening that he would risk his life to keep her away. She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep. It didn’t matter. She was here now and Hogwarts was her sanctuary, the place where she felt truly at home and nothing was ever going to change that.
Unbeknownst to Harriet, a meeting was taking place in Dumbledore’s office. The room was filled with the soft glow of candles, casting flickering shadows on the walls and portraits that hung there. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, fingering his beard.
“Severus,” he began, “I hope you found the welcoming feast to be as pleasant as I did,”
Snape stood in front of Dumbledore, his face a mask of controlled emotions. “After that stunt by Weasley and Potter, I found myself rather put off. But surely that’s not the reason why you have summoned me here headmaster.”
Dumbledore leaned forward, his expression somber. “What can you tell me about a house elf named Dobby?”
“…Why do you ask?”
“He graced young Harriet with a visit over the summer, warning of a terrible danger towards her at Hogwarts this year,” Dumbledore said, an almost weary look in his eyes. “She is of the belief that he even enchanted the barrier at the platform to prevent her from attending this year.”
Severus’ eyes narrowed dangerously, “Dobby, is the house elf of Lucius Malfoy,” he gritted through his teeth.
Dumbledore sat up a bit straighter at that.
“Is it Tom-? “
“-Lucius would’ve come running to me had the Dark Lord made contact with him. He has renounced him too much publicly to gracefully fall back at his side. Surely the ponce would be terrified and come straight to me if that were so,” Severus said, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
At that Dumbledore seemed to relax a little, “There still lies the issue of Harriet’s safety… Whatever it is Lucius is planning, we can take no chances. Do you think you can find out?” he questioned.
“That should be simple enough,” Severus said, his face a still mask.
“Also… I am asking you to keep a close watch on her, Severus. She may face many dangers in the coming months, and she will need protection.”
Snape’s face hardened. “Surely there are better candidates for this headmaster. I believe I have already done enough, the last thing I want to do is babysit that foolhardy girl,” he spat.
“And yet Severus, I find myself thinking that you are the best person for this task, as she is Lily’s daughter,” Dumbledore countered gently.
Snape flinched almost imperceptibly at the mention of Lily, his face going white.
“Don’t say her name,” he said, guilt instantly gripping his heart.
“Harriet has been through so much already, I couldn’t help but notice how small and frail she looked Severus, she is just a child, yet she has faced more danger and adversity than anyone else her age, her scar alone being proof of such,” Albus said with a sadness that echoed his eyes.
“How can you trust me,” Severus said, bitterly, his insides twisting with the sadistic pleasure of self-hatred, “You forgot not too long ago I was at the side of the one who gave her that scar.”
Dumbledore faced him, his eyes almost white in the candlelight, “I believe you’ve changed Severus…I know you hold an unbearable amount of guilt in yourself, but I believe that you also possess a lot of love as well…And I know that you have truly abandoned your old ways. Love…changes us and we grow with it.”
“Love did not save Lily,” whispered Severus, his heart racing.
“But love saved Harriet,” Albus said firmly, “And it’s love that she needs in order to conquer the darkness, should Voldemort rise once more.
“Don’t say his name!” Severus hissed, eyes flashing. Dumbledore gave him an almost sympathetic look before saying, “I trust you, my boy, and I know that you will stand on the right side should the occasion rise. Your promise to protect Harriet…consider it as fulfilling a wish from Lily. After all…she gave everything to keep her safe.”
Severus froze, willing his heart to slow down, before he replied,
“Very well. I will do as you ask headmaster.”
Dumbledore nodded, a sad smile forming upon the corners of his mouth. “Thank you my boy.”
Severus wanted to break something. He paced in his quarters, agitated and irate. Why he accepted Dumbledore’s proposal, he had no idea. The man was like a sore on his side, festering and pustulating. His steps thundered across the cold, brick flooring, echoing in the dimly lit room.
He could’ve killed Weasley. The dunderheaded fool could’ve gotten the girl killed and he would’ve probably had to murder him himself. He noticed her missing in the Great Hall during the sorting and was about to go hunt for her himself when he was alerted by Filch of their arrival.
In his mind he could see her pale, thin face in the hall, looking frightened but at the same time excited as she rolled back her sleeves to eat.
Was that a bruise on her wrist?
Maybe he would break something.
He wouldn’t put it past Petunia to beat her on top of starving her, the envious, wretched devil she was. He would’ve hexed the cow and her family had he known the girl was covered in bruises. He snarled and grabbed a jar from the shelf next to him and flung it at the wall. Then some more. The sound of glass breaking steeled his nerves. Maybe he should go to bed.
He could still recall the girl’s face the first time he really laid eyes on her. The previous year she sat with the other first years in the potions classroom, visibly nervous but with a defiant edge about her. The familiarity of Potter and Lily in her face made him feel nauseated. He glared at the class, radiating cold authority while taking note of the faces around him and his eyes landed upon her. The rush of emotions he felt from the familiarity of her features had him mortified and he knew it reflected on his face. She fidgeted nervously, hunching her shoulders to make herself seem smaller as if she wanted to just disappear from the room with his look. Then she shook her head, as if willing herself to be brave and tilted her head upwards, her piercing green eyes anxious, their beauty almost unnatural behind the ugly wired glasses she wore.
That jarring colour facing him, oh how he yearned to see it again in this lifetime. In a second, supressed memories and emotions lunged at him as if to suffocate; red hair and flowers, laughter and screams, joy and sorrow.
Realizing that there were students shrinking back and looking at him in fear, he quickly composed himself, wiping the glare off his face, shoving his thoughts to the back of his mind.
Was this it? Was this really all that was left of her? Of them?
A frightened abused child, reduced to skin and bones, with nothing left of her parents besides her unruly hair and bright green eyes. Were her parents alive she would’ve been a completely different child. Perhaps she would have been as arrogant and proud as young Draco Malfoy, smothered in the wealth and privilege of the Potters.
Why was he the only one left to see the product of their sacrifice?
This was not right; there was something extremely wrong with this situation. Life had its ways of being ironic sometimes and there was something absurdly poetic in the fact that he had to be the one to protect the child of the person he hated most and the person he loved most.
But perhaps that was his sin to bear. This was his atonement for his past and for his mistakes. The girl, if not the guilt, would be the death of him he was positive that would be the final bit of irony to end his miserable life.
He sighed and reached for a packet in his drawer, the plastic crinkling under his fingertips. Forget sleeping, he needed a smoke.