"Nothing, dearie," the lady smiled weakly. Behind her back was a letter, crushed in her hand.
"Can I play with my Potions set?"
"After you've washed your dishes."
The girl quickly washed her worn plate with a crumbling sponge, then trotted into the back room to play.
Once the girl was safely out of sight, the elderly woman tapped the letter with her wand, setting it ablaze. She watched it burn with savage joy, the flickering firelight emphasizing the lines in her careworn face. No grandchild of hers would ever set foot in Hogwarts.
"I'm worried, Harry," Neville confessed. He shifted on the floor, trying to restore circulation to his knees. Why did Floo calls have to be so bloody uncomfortable? "We haven't heard back from one girl about her attendance at Hogwarts. Most parents jump at the chance to have their students attend."
"What does Headmaster Flitwick have to say?"
"He's worried, but he's so busy getting ready for the school year that he hasn't had time to look into it."
"And what about you?"
Neville smiled. Harry knew him far too well. He was really glad that he had kept in touch with his friend. Harry had provided invaluable support when Neville had become a professor. He had been absolutely terrified that he'd somehow screw up, and it was very difficult for him to address his former professors as equals. Hermione and Ron had reassured him of his skills, and Harry had pragmatically reminded him of how he had killed Nagini without a trace of fear.
At least Professor Snape was not still on staff. Neville was absolutely certain that he would have died of fear. There was no way he could sit near the man at the Head Table or exchange idle chitchat in the staffroom. Funny how the man seemed to terrify him even more than Voldemort's gigantic snake. He felt a pang of guilt. Professor Snape had turned out to be a hero, though he had been reviled during his life. The man had died virtually alone and in agonizing pain. He had given Harry the information needed to bring Voldemort down, literally with his dying breath.
"I know your time is short, Harry, but there's something that feels wrong about this. Would you be willing to go with me as I speak to the girl's family?"
"No problem, Neville. I'm always glad to help you out. I'll have to go right after work and won't have time to change from my Auror robes."
"That's all right. Hopefully it will make an impression."
"What's the girl's name?"
"Prince. Belladona Hecate Prince."
There were two loud cracks as the wizards Apparated onto the doorstop of the last house on a narrow, dingy street. The tall mill chimney was the dominant feature on the horizon. The barely legible street sign, faded and listing, read "Spinner's End". Something tickled in Harry's brain. There was something all too familiar about this.
"Bugger!" he whispered. "We've Apparated into a Muggle neighborhood!" He'd catch hell from Kingsley if the Minister ever found out that he had appeared in full Auror regalia directly in front of Muggles. He realized with a start that he was very near Little Whinging. He hadn't been back since just before his seventeenth birthday. He had no such desire to visit now, but being so close to his old neighborhood gave him the creeps. So did a Wizarding family living smack in the middle of such a thickly-settled Muggle area.
Neville darted a nervous look around. A few ragged-looking Muggles were looking at them, but none were staring. They must have been curious about the loud Apparition, but none seemed to have noticed them appear from thin air; or if they did, they didn't seem to care. "Let's get inside," he murmured. "I don't like this place."
Harry raised his hand and knocked firmly on the door. After a few minutes, there was no response, so he knocked again. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" a woman's voice grumbled. The door opened a crack. They caught sight of dark black hair laced with silver. The woman's equally dark eyes widened in shock. She abruptly screamed and slammed the door. "Belle!" she screamed. "Belle, run!"
Harry and Neville exchanged a startled look. What was going on? Was the woman in trouble?
"Alohamora!" Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the lock. It did not budge. His concern mounting, he cast a quick Notice-Me-Not spell around him and Neville and Apparated into the house. Neville quickly followed suit.
The old woman was holding open a wall of books which had concealed a hidden door. A young girl dashed inside, her midnight-black hair trailing over her shoulder. The woman pulled the door closed behind her, and the cracks glowed with a bright golden light. She was trying to seal it closed!
Harry shrugged and Apparated inside. A moment later, there was another sound of Apparition. The door swung open to reveal Harry, his Auror robes rumpled and singed, with a distinctly disgruntled look on his face.
"They left?" Neville asked.
"Yep, but they won't get far. I put a Trace on them."
"I don't get it, Harry. Why are they running?"
He ran a hand through his perpetually-messy hair. "I wish I knew. But I intend to get to the bottom of this."
Neville followed Harry as he Apparated after the Princes. They ended up in a dense forest. He caught sight of the pair running among the trees. "Hurry!" the woman urged. Belladonna ran after her, but her foot caught on a protruding root. She fell hard, nearly knocking the wind out of her. Harry was extremely grateful for his physical training. While Neville puffed behind, he caught up to the girl in no time.
Harry reached out to help the girl but was suddenly propelled backward. He hit a tree, grunting at the impact. He picked himself up and shook his head to clear it. He gaped in amazement as the young girl scowled down at him, brandishing a wand. Had she really been able to properly cast and direct a spell, without formal schooling?
"It's all right," he said softly. He noticed a cut that had appeared on her forehead. "Just hold still, okay? I'm going to heal you." She flinched as he drew his wand, but true to his word, he sealed up the bleeding wound.
"Nooooo! Leave her alone!" the old woman screamed. She brandished her wand and seemed about to cast a curse.
"Back off, lady! Can't you see I'm trying to help?"
The woman fixed him with a lethal glare. "No Auror has ever helped my family."
Harry blinked. "What's that supposed to mean? You don't look like any Death Eater I recognize." Maybe she was one of the weirdos who was afraid of authority figures. "And why did you run? We only wanted to talk to you about your… granddaughter, is it?... her admission to Hogwarts."
"Belle? Attend Hogwarts?! As if I would ever let her set foot in that place! After what it did to my son – it destroyed him! My Prince, my Half-Blood Prince!" She covered her mouth with a handkerchief and began to sob.
Harry felt as if he'd been hit in the gut with a Bludger. It fit now; it all fit. "Mrs. Snape, I'm so sorry. We never meant to cause you such grief. I owe Professor Snape my life many times over, and I would never wish harm to come to you or this girl."
Neville's head swiveled back and forth between his friend and the elderly woman as if he were watching a tennis match. "Harry? I think I've missed something important here."
Harry dusted himself off, wanting to make a halfway-decent impression. "Mrs. Snape, meet Neville Longbottom, Hogwarts' Herbology professor. Neville, meet Mrs. Eileen Snape, Professor Snape's mother." The look on Neville's face was priceless. Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing. It was nice to find something amusing in this whole mess. Neville gamely held out his hand, and the woman shook it with a firm grasp. Harry then took his turn. "I'm sorry we never met properly. We were both students of Professor Snape." He recalled seeing a thin woman with a heavy veil at the professor's funeral. He wished he had known her identity in order to properly offer her his condolences.
"Could we return to the house to discuss things calmly? This isn't exactly the most comfortable place," Neville complained.
The woman snorted and folded her arms. Both were taken aback by how the gesture was so eerily reminiscent of the departed Potions Master. "Gryffindors, the both of you. I know the type. You like to dash in with wands blazing and ask questions later. I've learned a hard lesson about trusting Gryffindors, especially those that parade about in Auror uniforms." Harry flushed. He ran his hand through his hair in consternation, pushing back his bangs.
She froze and stared at his forehead in fascination. "You're the Potter boy."
Harry flushed once more. "Oh! I never introduced myself! I'm so sorry! Yes, I am Harry Potter."
"You said such kind things about my boy at his funeral. If it weren't for you, he would have never gotten a portrait on the wall in the Headmaster's office. Not that I would ever set foot in there to see it, mind you. You didn't let the world forget him or degrade him."
If this kept up much more, Harry was certain he would die from embarrassment. "I only helped get him the recognition he deserved. I'm sorry I didn't appreciate him more when he was alive."
"He was really mean, but he kept us safe," Neville blurted, then clapped a hand over his mouth.
Eileen laughed. It was a very pleasant sound. "It's so rare to find someone who speaks the truth about Severus. Very well, I will sit down and speak with you. But if I ask, you must leave without an argument." Harry and Neville both nodded in agreement. Eileen side-Apparated Belle back to the house, and Harry and Neville followed wearily. Frequent Apparition could be very draining.
She waved them into the small, poorly-lit kitchen. "I apologize for the accommodations," she mentioned as she set down cups and saucers for tea. They were chipped and faded but seemed well-cared-for. They reflected the state of the whole house – clean but slowly falling apart. Harry's trained eye noticed a number of Reparo spells here and there. "We were never wealthy. Poor Severus was forced to work to afford tuition and school supplies. Nothing was ever easy for him." Belle, still looking frightened of the visitors, buried her head in a thick book. "Please, do call me Ms. Prince. The name of Snape holds nothing but bad memories. I only kept it for Severus' sake, but now that he is gone, it has no hold on this family."
Neville looked flummoxed to be inside the childhood home of his most feared professor, talking to the man's mother. He had trouble wrapping around his mind that Professor Snape even had a mother. Instead, he occupied himself by studying Belle out of the corner of his eye. She had jet-black eyes and hair, but her nose was button-small. Her hands were long-fingered and elegant, the skin parchment-white. For a moment, his mind flashed back to the long-ago Potions classes, where deft long-fingered hands chopped flobberworms with elegant efficiency. He gave a soft cry. "Is Belladonna Professor Snape's daughter?"
Eileen glared at him. "As a matter of fact, she is. Can you blame me for feeling protective?"
"Really?" Harry exclaimed. "I had no idea he was a father."
She snorted. "Apparently, neither did he."
Neville could not contain his curiosity. "Who is the mother?"
"That is none of your business," she said sharply. But her expression quickly changed from anger to a smirk. "Besides, what makes you think that the other child's parent was a woman?"
Harry and Neville exchanged shocked glances. Eileen laughed. Both realized that she was toying with them and playing with their assumptions, just as Professor Snape had done from time to time. He had been a master of twisting perceptions until it was almost impossible to tell truth from fiction. It was possible in the Wizarding world for a man to bear a child, but it was a rare occurrence. And frankly, they couldn't and didn't want to imagine Snape being intimate with anyone.
"Suffice it to say that both of her parents are dead. A magical trace revealed that I was her closest living relative. I was glad to take her in."
"What are your plans for her education, if you will not be sending her to Hogwarts?" Neville asked.
"She will be home-schooled. I am very knowledgeable in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. I taught Severus everything I know, and since he went on to become a professor in both subjects, I believe my knowledge will be adequate."
"There are other subjects that she needs to know in order to pass her OWLs and NEWTs," Neville pointed out. "I respect your knowledge and abilities, but it is often difficult for masters in their subjects to educate their students. It will be quite an undertaking to teach all the required subjects to your granddaughter."
"There's something even more important to consider," Harry said softly. "I have no doubt that you would succeed admirably in home-schooling Belle, but socialization is also an important part of school. Hogwarts is where I met my best friends."
"Ah yes, friends," Eileen said, a touch of bitterness in her voice. "Your mother was Severus' first real friend. She was a very pretty and polite girl. She was good for Severus, and I liked her. But I knew that one day she would break his heart." Neville looked stunned. Harry had tried to explain his sudden change of heart toward Professor Snape, but he had also respected their former professor's privacy. Neville had had no idea of any relationship between Harry's mother and Snape.
Harry leaned forward earnestly, his cooling tea forgotten. "I don't know very much about Professor Snape's formative years, but I believe that many of the problems he faced were due to social awkwardness. He cared about my mother very much, but he also let himself get sucked in with the wrong crowd in a quest for acceptance. I can certainly understand your desire to keep Belladonna safe, but you will not always be able to shield her under your roof. She must be allowed to experience the world for herself and make her own mistakes, or else she will never properly learn and grow. I know that Hogwarts now holds bad memories for you. Send her to Beauxbatons or Durmstrang if you like, but please do not deny Belle the chance to be among young witches and wizards her age."
The woman suddenly looked very old and tired. "What will I ever do without my Belle?" She sighed. "You're right. I won't be able to protect her forever, and trying to keep her here is simply a selfish wish on my part. But I do not want another body to be buried on the grounds of Hogwarts. I refuse to sacrifice my granddaughter for some overblown Gryffindor scheme, or to make her another victim of bullying. I've taught her how to defend herself very well – I have no problem with teaching underage magic, so long as it's done responsibly – but even Severus' impressive skills did not spare him."
Neville nodded sympathetically. "Harry and I were both bullied when we were younger. Harry's abuse took place at home," both saw Eileen wince slightly, "but Harry and I faced harassment from the Slytherins, just as I imagine Professor Snape did from the Gryffindors. Hogwarts has changed a great deal since the war, and believe it or not, Porofessor Snape's role has done a great deal to change perception about Slytherin House. I am head of Gryffindor House, and I have been working closely with Professor Bulstrode as Head of Slytherin House to smooth over inter-house relations. Headmaster Flitwick has created a no-tolerance bullying policy, and Professor Sprout has instituted a mentoring program to make sure that no students slip through the cracks. I'd also be glad to personally keep an eye on Miss Prince's well-being."
The elderly lady wore a defeated expression. "Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are too far away, and I am not familiar with their policies or teaching methods. I suspect they would not be a good fit for Belle. Very well. She can go to Hogwarts, if you can persuade her to attend."
Harry and Neville did not allow themselves the luxury of smiling. The battle was not won yet. Harry turned to the girl, who appeared engrossed in her book, but he was not fooled for a minute. He was well-versed in the art of listening in. "Belle, what do you think? We don't want to make a decision about your well-being without consulting you."
The girl slowly lowered the book. She set her jaw, and Neville felt his heart clench. She was trying so hard to deny the fear that shone in her eyes. "Are you certain they won't hurt me?" she asked softly, caressing the wand in her lap. Her father's wand.
"I can't promise that everything will be smooth sailing," Neville said honestly, "but we've done our best to make Hogwarts a safer place. If anyone is troubling you, my door is always open to you, as is that of your Head of House."
"And if anyone does hurt you," Harry said teasingly, "I'll come punch them in the nose!" To his delight, Belle giggled and swatted him on the arm. For a moment, she was no longer the somber offspring of a dead Headmaster. She was a little girl who needed a chance to grow. "I am serious about looking after you as well, Belladonna. I'll drop by Hogwarts when I have a chance to see how you're doing. I'd also be glad to take you and your grandmother shopping to buy school supplies."
Belladonna scowled; the expression eerily familiar. "Nana says we don't need charity. We earn our own way."
"Then think of it as a debt repaid," Harry said softly. "Your father spent a good deal of his life looking out for me. I was an ungrateful brat and never appreciated his efforts. Without him, we would have never won the war. I would like to honor his sacrifice by ensuring that his kin are well cared-for. Charity is a Gryffindor concept." He turned to address Eileen. "Slytherins understand the meaning of obligation and debt. I offer financial support for you and Belle, no matter which school she attends."
"Then your proposal is acceptable," said Eileen a bit sharply, still a bit nettled by having to accept outside help, "but the choice of schools will remain with Belle."
"It would be an honor to have a Headmaster's daughter attend Hogwarts," said Neville encouragingly.
The girl stared at the floor as she bit her lip. Neville and Harry fairly held their breath, waiting for her decision. She was lovely in a striking way, her dark hair and eyes making her look exotic. If Professor Snape had been alive, he would likely hex any male who looked at her askance. "I've read as much information as I can find on Father. Even now, people seem unsure what to make of him. Some call him a hero, but others think he was an evil villain. I don't want people thinking of me the same way. If I go, I want to go as plain old Belladonna Prince."
Harry laughed. "I know how you feel! When I got to Hogwarts, I was famous for something I did as a baby and couldn't even remember. I know what it's like to have people love or hate me without ever getting to know the real me. Don't worry; we'll keep your parentage a secret." He was eager to get to know this solemn-faced little girl, not just because she was Snape's daughter, but because she had a fascinating spirit. He wanted to know her for her.
"Would it be okay if I visited Hogwarts before I make a decision?"
Neville and Harry both grinned. "Sure!"
It took some wrangling, but in a few days they were able to arrange for Belladonna and Eileen to arrive via the Knight Bus. Belle was quite awed by the changing sky and floating candles in the Great Hall. She ooh'ed and ahh'ed at the moving staircase. She seemed a bit intimidated by the large and empty building, but Neville advised that it would seem much less imposing with hundreds of students running about. Eileen kept her lips tightly pressed closed, but even she had a nostalgic look in her eye.
Their last stop was at the Headmaster's office. Flitwick was waiting at the base of the passageway to welcome them. He escorted them up the steps but stopped short outside the door. Eileen glanced at it longingly but held back, allowing her granddaughter to enter with privacy. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief as the door slid closed. She could the young girl whisper, "Hello, Father."
A/N: I have deliberately been vague about Belladonna's parentage and her birth year, since I did not have anything specific in mind. Feel free to let your speculation run wild, or even come up with a prequel or sequel!