malfoy manor
Severus knew that he was crazy. He was crazy when he ruined his friendship with Lily. He was crazy when he decided to join the Dark Lord; he was crazy again when he allied himself with Dumbledore under the Dark Lord's command, and he was crazy again when he realised what he was doing.
Severus Snape always knew that he was, in fact, a madman. He just never knew what he had in his plate until Harriet Potter, who he had believed to be the most spoiled princess in the world, was in fact not spoiled, and rather abused.
“And what are you going to do?”
“I don't know, Regulus!” He growled, glancing at his side, knowing that in the room at his left there was Narcissa bathing Harriet.
Regulus let out a sigh, serving him another glass of whisky.
He had gone absolutely crazy once he stood out of the Dursley's house, but he hid it very well, or he hoped he did. So, the first thing that came into his mind was his long-time friends, Narcissa and Lucius. That Regulus was there was just a mere coincidence.
“You have to take her to some healer, if she is as hurt as you imagine,” said Regulus. “What about St Mungo's?”
“And how do I enter the girl, Regulus?“” Mumbled Snape. “I kidnapped the girl.”
“You saved her,” Regulus corrected him, as always. “You talked about her bruised eye.”
“Tell that to the Minister. See if he believes a death eater.”
“Doesn't he think that you are on Dumbledore's side?”
But he didn't have time to respond because Narcissa appeared with Harriet, who was dressed in some of Draco's clothes. Narcissa had transformed the pants in a black, long skirt, but left the green jumper like it was. Her hair was no longer greasy and knotted, but soft and curly —clearly, all from the dead Potter—, styled into a practically perfect bun.
“Why don't you go to the library, dear?” Narcissa suggested. “”Dobby will take you.”
“Who is Dobby, ma'am?”
The house elf appeared at being call, making the child jump with surprise.
“He works for us,“” Narcissa explained. “He is friendly. Dobby, to the library, please.”
Harriet smiled at the elf, who nodded heartily. Dobby led her out of the room, and Snape couldn't stop looking at the girl until she was out of sight.
Narcissa closed the door, sitting in front of him, and she burst into tears. Regulus approached her cousin, gently patting her back as she tried to stop her tears.
“She is full of scars, and bruises. It is horrible,“” said Narcissa. “She flinched so hard and all I did was grab the bottle of shampoo! Shampoo! You understand that?”
“She was abused her whole life,” said Regulus bitterly, and all Severus could suppose it was because of the reminder of his childhood. “It is not your fault, Cissy.”
“That child is never going back to those horrible muggles,” Narcissa spoke, cleaning away her tears. “If I have to adopt her, I will, but she is not going back.”
Oh, how much of a mother Narcissa was. She had her own son, a son who Severus was the godfather —he still remembered how fuming Regulus was—. Draco was hers and Lucius's son, a spoiled boy, but not a bad one.
“What do I do?” Severus mumbled, asking himself but also them. “What the fuck I say to Dumbledore?”
“You can tell him that that child was being abused, at a family he left her with!” Narcissa growled. “Sent a squib to protect her, and yet she never says something until it is almost late.”
“What about Madam Pomfrey?” Regulus suggested. “She works with you. The headmaster will not take it to the Minister if the abuse is caught.”
“Ma'am,” Harriet voice broke the conversation. “I'm sorry to interrupt.”
“Don't worry, sweetling. Did something happened?”
“I wanted to ask you if I could... read some books.”
“Pick all the ones you want.”
Harriet smiled softly, her respiration going back to normal.
“Thank you, ma'am,” she bowed her head almost like Dobby, and even though it was a funny thought, it didn't felt like one.
The child left as fast as she arrived, the magic lingering after her. It was a strong but barely visible red string —of course it would be red, since it was her house colour: all the Potter were known by the red and gold colours in their crest and magic. After all, Harriet was the heir—.
“She really is a little James in looks, but I have to admit there's a lot more of Lily in her attitude.” Regulus broke the silence.
Severus looked at him, not agreeing at all. Lily had been a child full of happiness, completely outgoing. She spoke all the time, always with strength and clarity, emphasizing her word by word. Her green eyes shone, yes, but with endless excitement for magic, while Harriet's, the colour of the Avada curse, darkened with sadness.
But he didn't say it.
It was not his place to say it.
“Zabini,” said Narcissa, getting the other two to look at her. “Dorothea owes me a favour. She could do a full examination.”
And that is how they ended there, with Harriet holding onto his sleeve like if they were about to sacrifice her and Severus were the only one who would protect her.
Dorothea Zabini was quite the woman, a deadly one —if Severus had to say—. She had dark skin, and black hair, always styled in thick waves. Typically, witches wore their hair tied up, either in long braids or thick buns, but Dorothea Zabini was no ordinary witch, and her seven dead husbands made it more than clear.
She had a son, if Snape remembered correctly, the same age as Draco. Perhaps that was why she was staring so intensely at the little girl.
“Dorothea, my dearest friend,” Narcissa took her hands, while Regulus, Harriet and he stayed back.
“Cissa, what a surprise,” she said. “And with a miracle as well. What are you three doing with Heiress Potter?”
Harriet's stunning eyes widened, hidden surreptitiously —or so she seemed to think— behind his cloak. Regulus smiled faintly at the sight of the two, shifting his gaze to Dorothea again.
“There has been some... trouble regarding the child,” said Severus.
“I'm here to collect that favour you owed me,” Narcissa shifted the focus of Dorothea's gaze back to her. “I need you to check her completely.”
Dorothea doesn't say a word, but it is not needed. She soon gets down on her knees, looking at Harriet with the most friendly smile she has —which is, surprisingly, not as bad as he imagined: it must be because she is a mother, and most mothers know how to do that smile—. The child stirs slightly, clinging tighter to his cloak.
“Hello, Ms. Potter. My name is Dorothea Zabini. A pleasure to met you.”
Harriet looked up to Snape, almost as if she was asking for permission. Trying not to frown, Severus nodded, letting Harriet come out from behind the cloak slowly. Without getting the slightest bit upset, Dorothea continued smiling, with her hand outstretched.
Harriet watched her for a few seconds, noticeably suspicious, but she ended up accepting her elegant hand, feeling her soft skin and delicate grip like an immediate relaxation.
“The pleasure is mine, ma'am.”
“Such a delight,” mumbled Dorothea. “I have a son your age. You surely will know him. Now, I need to do an examination to see if everything is going alright.”
“Are you a doctor?” Harriet asked, getting a little scared.
“What would a doctor do?”
“Cures people.”
“Well, I do something similar. We call it healer here.”
Harriet's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and it was at that moment that Severus remembered that he hadn't taken the time to explain anything at all.
“We may need to have a talk, miss Potter,” he said, catching her attention. Snape kneeled in front of her, watching her curious eyes. “What do you know about magic?”
Her eyes widened, filled with fear at the mention of the word. Her body tensed completely.
“Don't say that word,” she hurried to say.
“Why not?”
“It's not a good word.”
Regulus and him exchanged a look, and he didn't even want to look at Narcissa, who was the most proud of carrying magic.
“And why is that, miss Potter?”
Harriet pursed her lips, and only then did Severus notice how thin she was, how the bones of her jaw stood out sharply, her eyes were obscured by purple circles under her eyes.
“My Aunt Petunia says it's a bad word, and that only freaks use it. She does call me one, but I don't want to be one.”
Severus stared at the girl, clicking his tongue several times. His rage was great, but it was more his thinly disguised empathy for the girl in front of him. Lily's daughter, hurt by her own aunt. Lily should be twisting in her grave. ”Miss Potter, you are certainly not a freak. And magic is not a bad word.”
“What Severus is trying to say, sweetling,” Narcissa kneeled along him, “is that magic is real.”
Harriet said nothing, staring at Narcissa. She frowned slightly, and when she pursed her lips, it was enough for the woman to understand that she wasn't believing a word.
Far from feeling upset, Narcissa remembered the first time she showed Draco her magic, so she smiled sweetly, taking out her wand. With a few simple movements, which initially tense Harriet, Narcissa managed to make bright, translucent butterflies appear, flying around the girl. “And now? What do you think?”
“So it is real,” mumbled Harriet, touching one of the butterflies. “I am not a freak.”
“No, sweetling. You're not.”
“Then what am I? Please, ma'am. Answer me with honest,” the girl begged. Narcissa held her hand up, directing it towards her cheek, and even though Harriet flinched, she temerously accepted the touch.
“You are a witch, dearest.”
“A witch,” she repeated. “So, I am not a freak.”
“No, miss Potter. You're not.” Regulus talked to the girl for the first time, catching her attention.
The man had not pronounced a word in her presence, quite intimidated by the girl who had killed his Lord, but she didn't have to know that for now.
Harriet looked at him for a minute. He was tall, shorter than Snape but taller than Narcissa and Dorothea. He had very marked features, pale skin without any imperfection. His gray eyes were pointed at her without any discretion, but there was an immense peace, although his bushy eyebrows gave him a somewhat abrupt air. Strands of his hair fell over his forehead, and although it gave off a disheveled look, he had probably been long overdue for that natural look. He was dressed all in black, very formal.
“I do some weird things that, now I know, have an explanation,” mumbled Harriet, but it was very clear to them.
“Like what?” Severus asked.
“My aunt cut my hair very short a few years ago as punishment, I don't even remember why,” Harriet looked away, clearly remembering why, but not wanting to say it. “But the next morning everything had grown again. And- and she once tried to put me in an old sweater, but every time she wanted to do it, the garment became too small. And the other day...”
“What happened the other day, miss Potter?”
“I was running, from my cousin,” she said. “When I lost them, I thought that I had jumped over some cubes, and that the wind was in my favour, but- but I appeared in the ceiling.”
The girl had apparated at her young age. The thought of the little person infront of him apparating all off a sudden because escaping her cousin made him look at her with almost wide eyes.
“That is more than a great demostration of magic, miss Potter,” Dorothea smiled. “Now. Am I allowed to do the examination?”
The results were not what Severus expected. In a way, it was. In another, it was way worse.
The first thing that Dorothea's exam had allowed to see was the dark magic in the scar on her forehead. The second thing was the various bad healed broken bones since she was quite young.
Both of them made him incredibly angry, almost like a raging fire.
“This is horrendous,” Dorothea talked, looking at the sleeping child at her side. Harriet had fallen asleep after being examinated, holding Severus' hand. “Are the muggles dead? They should be.”
“Can you heal her?” Severus asked.
“I could,” she said affirmative, “physically. Mentally, she needs to go to a mind healer. Adding, a new family.”
“She is not going back,” said Narcissa while re-reading the sheet in her hands. “We need to go to Gringotts. They could help us with this. They owe Lucius a debt.”
“Why does everyone owe you or Lucius a debt?”
“They ask and then they owe,” Narcissa said vaguely. “We could have a trial.”
“I will talk to Dumbledore.”
Severus voice made them all look towards him. He was looking at Harriet with distance eyes, lost in his thoughts.
“He cannot deny that the child needs a new guardian. He will offer James and Lily's only remaining friend, but Remus Lupin is not fit to raise a child. He is a werewolf, so he will be an empty option. Dumbledore will then offer to return her to the Dursleys.”
“But you are not going to let that happen.”
“Exactly,” Severus nodded.
“And how will you prevent him from returning her?”
“It's obvious, Regulus,” he said. “I will be her new guardian.”