Neglect

On a rainy morning, the 24th of June to be exact, Madeline was alone, as usual. Severus hadn’t returned home for the second day, but she didn’t worry too much about it. And why would she? 

She was sitting cross-legged in her father’s study studying a more complex spell than previously – obliviate.  

She had read about it in a book - “ Spells Successful Wizards Know” - “Seriously, who writes these titles? Lockhart?” she found herself rolling her eyes. Nonetheless, she started practicing. She couldn’t really practice how well it worked, only the wand movement. 

A dark brown owl flew in, dropping a letter into her lap, vanishing just as soon as it appeared. Lifting the letter into her hands, she realised it was her Hogwarts letter. 

“Already? But I’m still 10!” she thought perplexed. Well, without her knowing, Severus had caused a stir with Dumbledore, because his daughter was born in ‘78, as were the others, but just because she was born in November, suddenly she has to wait a year? Dumbledore had explained, but Severus wasn’t settled on anything other than having Madeline be in her year. And in the end, he managed to convince Dumbledore. 

Now Madeline was sitting on the floor, reading the letter over and over again. “I’m going to Hogwarts. I’m going to Hogwarts! What house will I be in? Slytherin like him, or Ravenclaw like Mum? I’ll have to go to Diagon Alley though, but will he come with me?”  

As the last question rang, she heard something clattering in the kitchen. Confused, she quickly put everything in its place, quickly ran to her room and hid the wand, and crept downstairs. “Maybe he came home earlier? But why?” She wondered, stepping into the kitchen.  

On the dark oak table laid a note and a pouch of money. Inside she found galleons, sickles, and knuts. She knew that in one galleon were 17 sickles, in one sickle 29 knuts. But this was much more. 

She picked up the note and read - 

 “Money for Diagon Alley. Use Floo Powder. Don’t waste all of it, and be home by five. - Da Severus Snape” 

“So, I’m going by myself,” she sighed and went to her room to get dressed in her nice clothes. She pulled on some white socks with small bows on the sides, and her navy summer dress, with dark lace trimmed along the sleeves and bottom. The dress was her favourite since the sleeves were a bit “poofier” and the collar was white, and the proper term for it was the “Peter Pan collar” (or at least that’s what it said in “The Daily Prophet”).  

It was considered a bit old-fashioned, but she liked it.  

She slipped on black, Mary Jane-styled shoes and made her way to the fireplace, checking if she took the correct letter and that the pouch wasn’t empty. 

With a deep breath, she stepped in, took some powder and said “Diagon Alley” and dropped the powder. A gush of green flames enveloped her, making her slightly dizzy and hot, but alas she stepped out of a fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron.  

She saw a couple of people sitting behind tables, drinking something she didn’t dare inspect closer. She walked over to the bartender. 

“Excuse me?” She asked politely. The man looked at her and smiled, “Here for Diagon Alley?” he asked, his mustache so big, that it may suffice for the lack of hair on his head. She nodded, subconsciously clutching the pouch, to make sure the money hadn’t disappeared.  

She was led outside of the shop and she found herself standing in front of a brick wall. She watched as the man found a brick three up an old rubbish bin, she had just noticed, two across, and tapped it three times. 

The bricks shifted and she was met with a bustling alley, full of wizards and witches and muggles, owls flying around, dropping letters.  

“There you go, enjoy your visit. To get out, you only have to flick your wand and imagine the wall opening, okay?” The man looked down at her, with a smile she found calming. She let a small smile of her own play and nodded. “Thank you, sir,”  

“It’s William,” he introduced. Her smile lifted a tad more. “Nice to meet you, it’s Madeline,” 

The first thing listed in her letter was the school uniform – three layers of work clothes (black); one black, pointy witch hat; one pair of protective gloves (dragon skin or something similar); and one winter cloak (black with a silver clasp). 

She looked up from her letter, trying to find a clothing store. “Flourish and Blots bookseller, Quality Quidditch Supplies, Madam Malkin’s robes for all occasions – that's it!”  

She ducked under the crowd, trying to get past everyone, without pushing them, and after what felt like a lifetime, she managed. She brushed her dress off and went inside the store.  

The store was spacious, filled with many fabrics, cloaks, mannequins, and mirrors. And a stocky, smiling woman ran over to her, dragging her to a stool for measuring. She was ushered onto it. “Hogwarts, dear?” The woman, which Madeline figured was Madam Malkin, asked. 

“Yes, ma’am,” She replied, standing still on the stool. “Oh, don’t call me “ma’am”, makes me feel old!” She laughed. “First year?” The girl nodded. 

Measuring tapes flew around her at rapid speed. “Small, are you? Only 142 centimetres tall.” The woman tutted. “I like to think I’m normal,” Madeline said, causing Malkin to laugh heartily. 

“We all like to believe it, darling,”  

After getting her many clothes, she stepped outside. Her hands were full and she wanted to use the levitating charm she knew but found herself at a loss with a wand.  

“That’s my next stop,” she thought, looking around for a wand store, quickly finding the small Ollivander's wand store building. 

The shop was even smaller on the inside, surrounded by small narrow boxes.  

“I remember when your mother got her first wand,” A mysterious voice spoke, making her a bit startled, which she hid. A man with a tuft of grey hair and beard climbed down his rolling stairs and looked at her intently. She felt as if this man knew all of her darkest secrets. 

“And your father too. Quite the tragedy it was when your mother passed. Was all over the Prophet,” He turned to his shelves, scrounging the shelves for something. He pulled out a light wood box and opened it to reveal a wand.  

“Blackthorn shell, 14 inches, springy, core of a unicorn’s hair,” He handed it to her, the wand feeling heavy in her hands.  

“Give it a flick,” She did and the papers from Ollivander’s desk abruptly flew all around the shop. “Certainly not,” he took it back and found another box. 

“This one, elder wood, 16 inches, flexible, thestral tail hair core,” she tried it, and all of the vases blew up, one shard ending up in her arm.  

“No, no, this one. Ebony wood, 12 inches, reasonably springy, dragon heartstring core,” As she flicked it, a warm feeling passed over her and the wand produced light. 

Ollivander smiles, “Well, seems it’s found it’s witch,” 

As she walked along the streets, she used her desired levitating spell and made the package of clothes levitate above her.  

Her next stop was Flourish and Blots. 

As she scanned the bookshelves for a “Fantastic Beasts – and Where to Find Them by New Scamander” two boys, with flaming hair crashed into her, falling down. 

“We’re so sorry!” One shrieked, “Are you okay?” The other asked, pulling her up. She looked at them, a little bit startled. “Y-yeah, and you?” They both nodded, “Yeah, we’re perfectly fine!” The first spoke.  

“I’m Fred, by the way,” he outstretched his hand, “and I’m George!” the second followed. “Madeline,” She shook each of their hands. 

“Fred! George!” A woman with the same fiery red hair came over. “There you are! Where have you two been?” She asked, giving them a stern look. “Sorry, Mum,” They looked down at their shoes. 

She noticed Madeline standing behind the boys and smiled. “And who are you, dear? I hope they haven’t done anything bad?” Madeline shook her head politely, “No ma’am, and I’m Madeline.” 

The woman smiled more, “Oh, don’t call me “ma’am”, Madeline, Molly will do just fine!” Madeline smiled a little and nodded. 

The Weasleys, as they introduced themselves, helped her find a cart, and at three twenty she was standing at the brick wall.  
“To get out, you only have to flick your wand and imagine the wall opening,” she remembered the man saying and did just that.  

On the first of September, living near the castle, she only had to arrive at the boats in time, which she did, wearing her new uniform. She had put a braid in her hair, a skill she learned early on when Severus first started leaving. 

She ended up in the boat with the same twins. “Hello to you, again!” One of the twins said, and she hoped she was right, assuming it was Fred. “Hello,” She nodded. “You weren’t on the train with us,” George said, looking at her.  

“Oh, yeah, I live near the castle,” She explained. “You do?” They both ask, a bit shocked. She nodded. “How so?” Fred asked, leaning closer, as did George. “Well, my dad’s the Potion Professor there,” Their faces darkened a little. 

“Did I say something wrong?” She asks, a bit worried that she may have lost the first friendly faces at Hogwarts. “No, no,” Fred reassured, “just, we’ve heard stuff about your father from our older brothers,” George said. 

“What stuff?” She asks, a little confused. “Well,” George glances at Fred, and the latter continues, “Our brother Percy told us, that he’s very strict and yells about the smallest mistakes and prioritises Slytherins.” 

Was she surprised? No. But she had hoped that her father acted more... likable in public. 

“But we’re still your friends!” Fred says. She voiced her surprise, “Really?” “Yeah, really!” They both replied. 

The Sorting Hat was taking its time. “Ravenclaw or Slytherin? Mother or father?” It growled in her head. “Better be... SLYTHERIN!” The table closest to the doors, on the right side, cheered and whistled, ready to envelop the pale girl in their snakelike arms. She looked back at the Professors table, as she was walking down, gauging Severus’s expression. He looked pleased. 

But then he didn’t, when the next day, in Potions class, he found his daughter talking to the Weasley twins. 

More annoyed than ever, he took 20 points from Gryffindor, for merely asking a question. 

“Ms. Snape?” He asked as the bell rang. Madeline walked over, standing nervously at her father’s desk. Once everyone left, a slap hugged her right cheek. She looked up at her father’s snarling face. 

“What. Did. I. Say. About. Friends?” He asked. She replied, her voice obedient. “Only befriend purebloods and nobles – b-but they are pureblood!” Don’t talk back to me!” Another slap.  

But did it stop her from being friends with the twins? It only made her defiance stronger.  

Every weekend after school, she had to go home and receive a beating, which left her bloody on the floor, alone. But did she cry? She didn’t. She found herself learning to accept it, to hide it, to enjoy the look of anger growing bigger on her father’s face at her emotionless. 

“Your dad is a prick,” Fred grumbled, looking at another bruise blooming on Madeline’s wrist, as she did her homework. George looked over as well and frowned. “Again?” She nodded. 

“Maddie, you can’t just let that happen, you have to tell-” “No,” She quickly interrupted Fred, “I don’t want more problems for myself,” 

Fred reluctantly nodded, and George added, “Well, that won’t stop us from hating him more.” 

“Maddie, look, look!” Fred ran over to her, as she was walking to her next class. “What is it?” “We nicked it from Filch’s office!” Fred showed her an empty piece of parchment, pride flowing off him in waves. 

“Revelio!” she murmured, but the parchment stayed empty. “Is it empty?” She asked, looking up at the taller boy. He grinned, “No, smartie. Look,” He theatrically cleared his throat and flicked his wand, saying “I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” And a magical map appeared. Her eyes widened. “How?” “With my awesome brains of course!” He jabbed with a smile.  

She shot him a look and gently took the map from him. “Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are proud to present... the Marauders Map.”