To Harley Lillian Potter,
We of Gringotts Bank, invite your to the mandatory will reading of James and Lily Potter on Wednesday, August the first. Embedded in the letter is a portkey that will only activate at ten o'clock am and deactivate no less than at two minutes afterwards.
May your gold overflow and your enemies bow before you,
Stormblade,
Potter Account Executive
Harley reread the letter for what seemed like forever. 'Well, what a nice birthday present,' she thought bitterly. A sharp, but familiar feeling clawed at her chest. A pain that would always tell her that she would never get to know her parents. Who in Merlin's name wanted to be famous for that?
The almost sixteen year old sighed and looked around her "room". How is becoming an orphan something to be worshipped for? A psychopathic terrorist murders her parents and she becomes her uncle's and cousin's punching bag and her aunt's house elf. 'Yes, I truly am spoiled beyond belief, Professor,' Harley thought sardonically of her Potions teacher's sharp insults of being spoiled, worshipped and blissfully naïve of pain.
Harley's musing was interrupted by a light clicking on his only bedroom window. Sitting on the outside window sill was a pitch black bird with striking yellow eyes. Its wings were tipped a dark purple, but only noticeable in the sunlight. The bird preened at its midnight feathers with a grey beak. She stared at the unfamiliar bird for quite a while and jumped when the bird tapped the window again with its beak, seeming quite put out. Harley jumped up and quickly opened his window, relieving it of what seemed to be a heavy package.
The only bird she knew that could do that was… Fawkes…
A Phoenix.
Harley's eyes darted to the elegant bird that had helped itself to Hedwig's water bowl. She practically dived onto the floor and under her bed for a book on rare magical creatures that she had bought from the Flourish and Blotts in Hogsmeade. She quickly flipped through the pages to the chapter on rare birds.
One bird. Three different types.
"An indigenous dark counterpart to the original Sun Phoenix and its twin, the Twilight Phoenix (seen on p. 301). It has been rumored that during the times of Merlin and Morgana Le Fay, that the Twilight and Midnight Phoenixes were the familiars of the two, respectively.
Another rumor was if one saw the Phoenix during midday, they would receive eternal luck or if it was seen during the night, they would instead have eternal misfortune.
As for how the twin birds were born, there is one instance that claims a dying Phoenix left a strange black egg with Le Fay, while a pure white egg was left with Merlin. The two mages could never overpower the other, even with their new friends, proving that there is no difference in strength between the two.
The second is the Midnight Phoenix is said to be the solid personification of the night, born from the moon, while the Twilight Phoenix was born from the stars and the original Phoenix from the sun.
The last known and seen Phoenix of any type is the Sun Phoenix and the familiar of Albus Dumbledore."
'A Midnight Phoenix? So rare, they're practically a myth?'
Said bird trilled softly and glided over from Hedwig's perch to her tiny twin sized bed and landed next to the box, nudging it gently with its beak. Shrugging, Harley nearly flopped onto the small bed from how close it is to the floor. She could hear a faint hissing as she placed the box in her lap.
§How much longer do we have to be in this box?§
§Don't worry sister, we shall be out soon.§
§But when? I'm tired of this dreadful, tiny space.§
Snakes? Harley's interest was officially peaked. The raven haired girl briefly wondered if they were sent to bite her as soon as she opened the box. But being the Gryffindor that she was, Harley opened it anyway.
§Finally! Glorious light! I thought I would go mad in that insipid box!§
The two occupants sat up and made their way out the box and wrapped themselves around Harley's arms. She tensed slightly at the two three foot snakes making themselves at home.
§So you are our mistress… I can taste the power rolling off her in waves, brother…,§ hissed the black snake coiled around Harley's left arm.
§Right you are, my sister… She reeks of magic…,§ hissed the green snake lounging on her right arm.
Harley was half nervous and half confused.
She, not being around snakes as much as a Parseltongue should, was the cause of that. But negating her nervousness, Harley's mind began to work overtime.
Who would send her two king cobras?
Who would have a Midnight Phoenix?
A regular phoenix — that sounds so odd — was already difficult to find…
Why were the snakes calling her —
§Mistress?§ the left one called.
§Who sent you?§ Harley asked.
The snake on the right answered. §He didn't tell us his name. He rescued us from the boring cage in the big store and took care of us up until he sent us today. He said you would know if you read the note in the boring box.§
"He talked to them?" Harley asked herself. The only two people who could speak Parseltongue were Voldemort and herself. Harley grabbed the box she'd discarded on the bed; picking up a piece of white parchment. She smiled softly at the birthday greeting starting the note.
Happy Birthday, Pup!
Er, well, as you can see, I'm not dead. Now clearly, this is a huge shock to you, one I can't really explain to you right now. At least, until we're in a safe place away from any forms of surveillance. I couldn't owl you sooner just on the off chance someone could know that I'm still alive. I'm taking a giant risk just doing this from my safe house, but I had to get you something for your birthday. What I can tell you is that I will be going to James' and Lily's will reading in disguise. After it's over, the goblins will have a room for us to talk in privately.
As for why I got you two King Cobras? Well, when I decided to get you a pet as a present, I initially didn't know what to get you. Those two practically demanded that I buy them, probably because they could taste some of your magic on me after all the time we've spent together. I'll also explain the Parseltongue thing after the will reading too.
I hope you're taking care of yourself, Pup, and I'll see you soon.
Love, Padfoot
P.S. Don't mind Hades, he's very self-reliant and intelligent, and will know to feed himself if you can let him stay with you for a while.
Sirius? He was alive? …But how? Harley's mind was spinning. First, her parent's will reading, two King Cobras are sent to her, and now this? Harley sighed softly as she looked down at the snakes around her arms. They seemed to be pretty young despite their size. Maybe around three — four months? She lifted her right hand gently, as to not awake the green cobra and stroked the head of the black one around his left. §Don't you two have names?§ she asked softly.
The black cobra lifted her head almost lazily because of the gentle petting. §We're newborns; the Magic born in us makes us bigger than normal. You must label us the names Magic destined us to be called by, we'll become bonded to you and your Magic will recognize us as your familiars.§
Harley nodded absentmindedly as she switched hands petting the other snake on her right hand. As if Magic itself was putting the names into her mind, the male snake's name fell from her lips, §Vasuki. He was the king of all snakes in India,§ she whispered. The emerald King Cobra, finally named, lifted his head hissing proudly.
§What about me?§
Harley looked down at her left hand.§Kiyo. I remember the name from a book on Japanese folklore I read when I was little. A scorned woman turned into a snake to take vengeance on her escaping lover. It's pretty fitting, is it not?§ The newly named snake slithered up Harley's arm to her shoulder, hissing happily.
Suddenly, a faint glowing wisp appeared and circled around Harley. Slowly, the wisp grew in size, beaming an emerald green. Two other wisps joined the first, this time becoming platinum silver and a perfect shade of red. The wisps began to circle the Girl-Who-Lived faster and faster, to the point that it looked like a tornado. Along with it came a low rumbling.
Then, it stopped.
Harley had never questioned the laws of Magic until now.
"What the bloody hell was that?" she whispered.
§That was your Magic bonding us. But I never thought it would be so powerful. Amazing,§ Vasuki hissed softly.
Harley blinked owlishly, trying to process what happened. She shook her head to get out of her shocked stupor. Looking at her digital clock (previously a gift for Dudley's eighth birthday from Aunt Marge before he threw it at Harley's head) on the rickety bedside table (also previously Dudley's before he used it as a stool to get a toy from the high shelf above his television), Harley jumped up. "2:00. Two bloody o'clock and I haven't done anything. They'll be home in three hours." Harley's mind raced for a solution to clean the dishes and the bathroom, mow the lawn, rid the entire house of dust and clean out the shed and Dudley's room by five o'clock.
Dobby.
Of course. How could she have been so stupid? She should have asked for her help a long time ago! "Dobby!" Harley called. An audible crack resounded around the tiny bedroom.
"Harley Potter called on Dobby. Dobby is honored," said the excited house elf.
Harley shook her head at her little friend's antics. "Listen, Dobby. I really need your help. My aunt and uncle left me with a bunch of chores and they're gonna be home in three hours. Can you help me?"
The answer was immediate. "Oh, yes! Dobby will help Miss Harley Potter!"
"Great! So I'll do the outside and you do the inside," Harley grinned, heading for the door. But before her foot even left the room, Dobby stopped her. "Harley Potter doesn't need to do anything! I will do it myself!" Harley turned around to look at her small friend. "Dobby, I couldn't ask you to do that for me. Really, —"
"Harley Potter doesn't need to ask! Dobby wants to. Dobby hears and sees how your relatives treat the great Harley Potter…," Dobby said angrily at the treatment of someone he looks up to. Dobby then took a deep breath. "You need a well deserved rest and a hearty meal. It will take nothing but a short hour to do your chores." Seeing that she probably won't be able to win the argument, Harley lay down on her bed and took a nap as Dobby prescribed and the tiny house elf went to work.
One hour later, Dobby was done.
Satisfied with his handiwork, the house elf apparated back to Harley's room. "Harley Potter…," Dobby whispered as he shook her shoulder. It didn't take much to wake Harley up. Between all the nightmares, the hazings from Dudley and his friends would commit when they stayed over, plus the leering looks her cousin's friends gave her, and the surprise attacks from his uncle as an excuse to say Harley didn't do something right, Harley was a light sleeper.
"What…?"
"Dobby is done," the tiny house elf said proudly. Harley blinked sleepily at the ceiling, rubbing her eyes. "Whoa, seriously?" Harley sat up slowly, getting off the bed.
§Mistress?§ one of the cobras hissed. Vasuki. §Can we go with you?§
Dobby squeaked from the sight of the cobra and hid behind Harley's leg. "Dobby, it's alright. They're mine," Harley picked up Kiyo, watching as she slithered up her arm and appeared on her shoulder, wrapping herself around her neck loosely. She then lifted Vasuki, letting him tangle through her fingers. "This is Kiyo," she pointed to her neck with her free hand, "And this is Vasuki," lifting her right hand.
Dobby nodded, eyeing the cobras warily and lead Harley down stairs. Instantly, she was hit with the smell of lemons and sees how spotless the kitchen is. Harley almost couldn't believe it, for neither she nor her aunt could get the kitchen this clean. With her uncle and cousin, how could anyone? Looking to the dining room, a glare from the table met her eyes. She had never seen the table so polished. In fact, it looked brand new, never touched.
Harley walked into the living room, greeted by a strong aroma of lemon, probably the source. The couches had been cleaned, the carpet and rugs steamed and vacuumed. Even the tassels on either side of the center rug were combed out. The television wiped down and dusted, the screen polished. Every piece of what Vernon and Petunia considered art had been dusted.
"Dobby… This is amazing…," Harley grinned, looking down at the elf. Dobby's emerald green tennis ball eyes welled up with tears.
"Harley Potter is too good to Dobby!" Dobby blinked his eyes rapidly, ridding himself of the tears. He grabbed Harley's hand and dragged her to the dining room. Dobby quickly snapped his bony fingers, making a chair slide away from the table.
Harley watched as Dobby pulled together steak and scrambled eggs with cheese and peppers. As the full plate floated and land in front of her, she noticed the hyper elf bouncing on his toes out of the corner of her eye. She took a bite of the steak, savoring the flavor. Harley's eyes closed for a moment as he got her first taste of filling food outside of school. "Dobby. Thank you. This is the best food I've ever had." Harley shamelessly finished off the rest of her food and patted her full stomach. She stood and stretched slightly before going over to the sink to clean her plate.
As she was drying the plate to put it away, Harley heard her uncle's car pull into the driveway. After putting the dish in the cabinet, Harley took Dobby's hand and ran them up stairs. Harley shut her bedroom door as soon as the front door opened. She pressed her ear against the door listening for any verbal hints that might tell her how well a day her uncle had. Before long, the burly, muffled voice of her uncle reached the door.
It turns out he'd gotten another sucker— er, businessman to invest into the small drill company of Grunnings. Harley snorted to himself about how many times her uncle must have to kiss the investor's ass to just to get him to consider. She listened harder as her uncle's voice reached her ear once more. He had also managed to get this investor to come over for dinner tonight to sign the contract and he wanted a special dinner in celebration.
Harley already knew what was coming; her uncle would call her down, lecture her about keeping quiet and making sure she was seen but not heard, and then have her make the dinner.
Soon enough…
"Girl! Get down here!"
She sighed heavily, opening her bedroom door before turning to Dobby, and pressing her finger to her lips, signing her to keep quiet. As Harley made hers way down the stairs, she remembered that Vasuki and Kiyo were still wrapped around her person. She gave them a quick hiss to stay hidden and out of sight. It was then that he felt a sort of cold and wet feeling; did they somehow blend in with her skin? She made the short turn to the dining room, just as she received a twin reply.
"Sit," her uncle ordered.
Forcing herself not to talk back with a 'Would like me to roll over as well?', Harley sat in the cherry wood chair with the tacky pink and brown fleur-de-lis upholstery her aunt insisted on having.
"Today is a very special evening. I have managed to earn Grunnings a very powerful, very generous investor. He and his wife shall be coming for dinner at 8:30. If all goes well tonight, you will be looking at the vice president of Grunnings." Vernon puffed up his chest more than usual. Petunia squawked gleefully and peppered her uncle's face with kisses, wrapping her arms around his waist as far as she could (which wasn't far). Dudley gave an absentminded grunt as his mouth was full of barbeque chips while he watched television.
Harley just rolled her eyes. "So what does this have to do with me?"
Vernon's grin faded. Petunia's already pursed lips pursed even more, slightly making her look like a duck. Harry noticed Dudley turning his head slightly away from the T.V., showing his attention. Dudley always liked to watch as Harley got reprimanded for being snarky.
But Vernon didn't say anything. He just glared while Harley stared back. When she was younger, she would cower and trying everything to avoid her uncle's glare but she could still sense it. Now, after the things he had seen and went through, not even a glare from Voldemort would make her sweat. 'Come on, you sorry excuse for a walrus, try me.'
What Vernon didn't know (which was plenty) was that there were other forms of Magic, one being Wandless Magic, one of the Magical Arts that Harley was quite masterful in. Discovering her affinity for the rare art happened during spring break of fourth year. Harley would want some privacy from the chaos that was the student body and the Daily Prophet, so she sometimes walked the empty, unused corridors for rare moments of peace.
One of those days, a Wednesday, the students of Hogwarts had been quite gracious after she saved Fleur Delacour's young sister, Gabrielle, plus her own captive Ron, from the Black Lake. She didn't exactly see what the big deal was; she was just worried over the fact that the girl's older sister hadn't come yet. But then again, Hermione did diagnose her with a hero complex, to which she grudgingly agreed to.
Harley had noticed that she had just made it to the seventh floor when she walked past the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy's idiotic attempt at training trolls to dance ballet. She paced hall several times, thinking nothing in particular but just wishing she could find someplace of her own, from the rest of the school. It was around the eighth lap down the hall that a door appeared. She looked to the wall absentmindedly when she saw the door. She stopped short. When did this door get here? How did this door get here? Interested, she opened the heavy wooden door.
Harley couldn't help but sigh in relief as she looked around the room; a sigh of finally having the one thing he'd rarely had: quiet. Sure, on those peaceful days during the past summers ever since she had found out she was a wizard were nice, but they were far and in between. Most of the time, she would get bugged by Dudley because he would always claim he was bored...
The room in whole looked like something out of those perfect bedrooms out of her aunt's household magazines. The room was a deep red with accents of green, silver and gold throughout. Her eyes caught a red embroidered chair, one just like in the Gryffindor common room. Not even thinking of anything else, Harley made her way to one of the fluffy chairs in front of the fireplace. She closed her eyes and smiled in blissful comfort.
Slowly, Harley reopened her eyes to a wall sized bookcase next to the fireplace. She wanted to get up at the look at the assortment of books, but she couldn't bring herself to get up. Harley squinted slightly to catch some the titles. Get in Touch with Your Magical Core? Animagi Magi? There was one that she couldn't really make out from this distance, but it seemed to be calling to her… Harley got up and walked to the book case, pulling out a heavy, green old tome. She examined the cover and saw that the title wasn't even in English. Or any language he knew of. If fact, the lettering looked like nothing but a bunch of scribble.
Harley squinted her eyes once again and the scribbled lines seemed to change. In a few seconds, the squiggles formed into perfectly legible letters.
Salazar Slytherin
Harley nearly dropped it. What was this book of Slytherin's doing in here? She realized that if Slytherin wrote it that was the reason those squiggles were there in the first place: it was in Parseltongue. She opened it hesitantly and saw that the first page was an introduction.
This tome is of my own creation. Over the years I have been on this Earth, I have learned and gained much information about the Magic that has blessed me. I know that by the time this has been found I will be gone. The book is in Parseltongue, thus only my descendants with the Language of the Snakes can read this. Therefore, to the one reading: This is what I've discovered.
Inside this book is my history from birth to my current age, recipes to potions that might have long become outdated, spells that people are sure to believe are too Dark or obsolete, my beliefs of what is Light or Dark, animals that have probably befell to extinction and finally, four of my proudest discoveries, the Mastery of Wandless Magic, Shadow Magic, and the Elemental Arts: Pyromancy, Cryomancy, and Aeromancy.
Obviously, Harley's interest and urge to learn was peaked and spent plenty a time reading the old book during the night in Gryffindor tower while everyone was asleep and anytime she managed to have to herself.
She practiced hours upon hours attempting the potions Slytherin left behind until she executed each one successfully and enjoyed every second of it. At first, she thought of showing up Professor Snape in class but that would only make matters worse. Harley actually did like her class… just not her teacher. She respected Snape's Mastery of the art but not him as a person.
Moving onto the next subject, Harley read up on extinct animals. Crumple-Horned Snorkack? Blibbering Humdinger? There was no way these were real.
Imagine her surprise during fifth year, when a fourteen year old girl mentions the same ones.
From the animals, Harley transitioned to the spells. Knowing that most of the spells in the book were truly Dark unlike most of the ones she knew now, made her slightly apprehensive.
Only slightly.
Harley knew that she wasn't purely Light, so she buckled down, practiced and enjoyed herself. Unlike what the other books claimed, she didn't feel any type of restriction on her magical core from Darkness latching on to it. But from what she read in Slytherin's notes, it takes someone who wasn't afraid to delve into the Darkness of Magic and knew the consequences but fought for equality of all to not to feel any discomfort or become addicted to the power of the spells or items; a mix between the Light and the Dark: Grey. Harley admitted to herself that it scared her a bit. She read on, finding out that Salazar had discovered that only wizards of the Grey alliance could use what was called the Shadow Magic.
During his travels, he had discovered small covens of witches and wizards that practiced in the Shadow Arts. They were strong and feared by many. They were able to actually shape and manipulate the darkness, by either putting their villages in a pitch black night or by blending into the shadows themselves, no matter how small. They had the ability to see in the dark and attack opponents with projectiles created with the darkness. The most proficient of the Shadow Mages could solidify their shadows and make them fight for them, heal others and even create small pockets of darkness for either eliminating enemies or just storing things. What awed Salazar the most was their ability to combine physical combat with their magic. "If a Shadow Mage were to be hit using Shadow Combat, they would simply become intangible then allow their magic to mend them back together."
Slytherin tried his hardest to learn the art, but he quickly learned that Shadow Magic is quite volatile and particular about who used it. It was here that he learned that one must be equally Light and Dark; completely balanced, which explained why there were so many small covens in the first place. "If a Shadow Mage were to stray from their neutral path into the Dark Arts, the Shadow Magic could latch onto their Magical Core and eat away at it until the witch or wizard became nothing but a shadow themselves." Harley surmised if that was the case then, there must be almost none now.
While she didn't expect it, the Shadow Magic had accepted her. Practicing one of the ten Shadow spells Salazar had left in his tome, Harley had managed to perform one of the affinity test spells, forming a ball of shadows in your hand. That alone was a feat because if it worked, the Magic would blend with the wizard's Magical Core. "If one didn't have an affinity for Shadow Magic, they wouldn't be able to one of the most basic spells at all and their Magic is immediately rejected." She pushed herself to the farthest teaching herself all of the spells and wanting to learn more about the art. Harley tried to ask the school for help, but to no avail and sadly had to move on.
In the next section, Harley came across a case of irony.
Shadow Mages were highly susceptible to light. Meaning they were more powerful during the night, obviously, and were weakened during the day and by any form of Magic that caused light. More specifically, fire. One didn't usually have an affinity for such a rare art like Shadow Magic, let alone two. Not mention that they were practically opposites. Unlike Shadow Magic, both Pyromancy and Cryomancy were quite accessible forms of Magic and also mixed with the wizard's Core. Since Shadow Magic avoided all forms of light, its Magic was naturally cold and worked best with Cryomancy. However, this was not the case with the Girl-Who-Lived.
"To be accepted as a Mage of Fire or Ice, it depends most on the wizard's personality. With the wizard's I have interacted with, I have deducted that Cryomancers tended to be ambitious, analytical, egotistical and inflexible, while Pyromancers are usually brave, passionate, temperamental and protective. Though there is one factor that pertains to both that one should avoid: Pyromancers and Cryomancers are fiercely dangerous were provoked."
Finally she arrived to the last teaching in Slytherin's diary, Wandless Magic. Needless to say, she followed Slytherin's notes and annotations to the letter and every punctuation mark. She started small like the book said; casting Lumos to light the room, levitating inkwells and so on. Harley quickly moved on to stronger spells, casting the cutting spell Relashio on dummies and the like. By the time she had finished the school year, Harley was at the intermediate level, which was a feat in itself, seeing as most successful wizards could only cast stunning spells like Stupefy or certain charms like Wingardium Leviosa.
But she didn't want to be like them. She wanted to protect those close to her and make sure to do it thoroughly. Harley knew that if anyone caught on to what she was doing they would find out someway to put a stop to it. All three forms of Magic (Natural, Fire and Shadow) warmed her Magical Core with her need to keep her loved ones safe as they mixed together in perfect harmony. She had to hide her skill and hone it until she mastered it. Only after that she would tell Hermione and Ron and help them.
Fourth year ended…
Cedric's death hit home for Harley. More than she'd like to admit. The first casualty of the second war. If she hadn't told him to grab that damn trophy… So she promised herself to train harder during fifth year. But that wretched toad had to screw up everything. Umbridge almost made Harley lash out at her when she made her do those lines. She could have killed her if he wanted to; just by looking at her, in her office. Then Hermione came up with a brilliant idea.
Dumbledore's Army.
But where to do it?
What Harley never realized was that she was going to the perfect place. The Room of Requirement. The thing was that she never had to pace the seventh floor hallway for the door to her safe haven was always there. After figuring that out, she thanked the school every day for helping her.
Then Arthur Weasley was attacked. Dumbledore wanted her to learn Occlumency. A foolish attempt to keep Voldemort out of her mind and a foolish decision to have Snape teach it. As Snape practically mind-raped her, he also began to chip away Harley's resolve not to snap back and hurt him, not to mention the fact that she couldn't figure out why she couldn't create at least a semi-solid shield in her mind. He was watching private and mentally scarring memories that she was determined to never think about again. She also had a fleeting suspicion that he found out about her newly developed powers as well. Since Snape never mentioned it, she could only thank him mentally for not compromising her. Sadly, the classes were going nowhere fast.
As fifth year pulled to a close, so did Sirius' 'life' at the Department of Mysteries… She couldn't bear to think about the 'field trip' the D.A. went on. But surely, Harley returned to Privet Drive with an even more solid resolve to protect what or who she cared about and kick ass doing it, no matter whether she was Light, Dark or the side she later learned hasn't been occupied since before Grindelwald, Grey.
Not one enemy would know what kind of power she held now. Not until it was too late.
A sharp rap over the head shook Harley out of her thoughts. "Ow!" She glared up at the hand that touched her.
"Get that glazed look off your face, girl, and listen to your aunt tell you what she wants done for dinner," Vernon growled, his meaty hand still hovering in the air. Harley clenched her jaw, nodded sharply and followed her aunt to the front door. She was pulling a sweater out of the hall closet as she took the car keys off the hook next to the door, handing them to her. Harley opened the front door, allowing her to exit first and trailed after her.
Neither of them said a single word as Petunia drove into London. As she pulled into the supermarket parking lot, she finally spoke. "I want you to get two and a half pounds of red potatoes, three pounds of green beans, and a bottle of lemon juice. I will get the steaks, spices and dessert. Have you got all that?" Harley nodded again and stepped out of the car.
Harley tried to take as long as she could, only getting to the second item on the list in fifteen minutes. Quickly, she went to the next aisle over for the bottle of lemon juice and went straight for the checkout line, which ― only adding to Harley's irritation ― was eleven people long. And it didn't look like she was going anywhere soon, seeing as half the people in the line looked like they were planning a large dinner as well.
Harley absentmindedly tapped her foot waiting for her aunt as the checkout line slowly went down.
'How long does it take to pick out steaks?' she thought, but Harley soon after rolled her eyes at her question. She knew how meticulous her aunt was…
Suddenly, the line moved up two people, but she was still nine people behind the register. She looked over at the other registers only to see the others were just as backed up as this one. 'If it gets this busy, I should get a job here…,' Harley thought distractedly. She continued to wait as the line went down another person when she felt a small tug on the end of her white dress shirt.
She looked down to see a small girl with jet black hair, pale skin and dark brown eyes; so dark, in fact, they would probably look black if she wasn't in the light. She briefly reminded her of Professor Snape by the disparaging look in her eyes…
"You're Harley Potter, right?" she asked.
Her brows furrowed. "Yeah…?"
The little girl sniffed. "You don't look like a pampered princess… more like a paltry pauper. I don't know what my father was thinking…"
Harley narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Who's your father?" She briefly had a passing thought to who it was by her disposition, but prayed inwardly that she was wrong.
"I would be her father, Miss Potter…," a recognizable drawling voice answered. Harley looked up to see her Potions Professor dressed in a simple pair of black shoes and slacks, and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The thing that stuck out the most from Harley seeing his Professor outside of school was that his usually black, greasy hair had been washed and tied into an easy ponytail with a black ribbon. He actually looked... attractive.
'Whoa, Potter. That is not a road you want to go down,' she thought to herself.
"Professor Snape," Harley greeted cordially. "Odd seeing you here, but a pleasure none the less. I never knew you had a daughter; she's adorable."
His daughter's face lit up, delighted to hear Harley's compliment.
Snape, on the other hand, had an out of place look of surprise in his eyes from Harley's politeness, but quickly masked it with Occlumency. "Thank you. Her name is Gwendolyn; she's one of the very few greatest things that have ever happened to me."
"Forgive me for overstepping, sir, but are you married?" She didn't know why, but she felt the need to find out.
"Hm. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you, so yes I am." Harley watched as a ghost of a smile appeared over Snape's lips before disappearing almost immediately. She wanted to ask who she was, but she didn't want to overstep once more.
She felt a slight push against the defense system in her mind. Harley realized that Snape was testing her. She looked into her teacher's eyes to see confusion; Snape didn't expect to find such sturdy protection. Harley smirked internally. She had been practicing the art when she had the free time to get to her hideout during the rest of the school year after Snape kicked her out to figure out where her issues lied. She found out that the Potioneer was right about some out the things he criticized her about, but you'll never catch her saying that to the Professor's face.
Harley was too emotional; she was too dependable on luck, thinking the art of Occlumency wouldn't be difficult as everything else she taught herself and she ended up being crushed quite pitifully; Harley underestimated the direction her teacher was taking to train her, nor did she take the time to actually read about the subject…
Not this time.
Harley's mind had been torn down and redesigned.
Her shield was her home: Hogwarts.
With too many trick doors and stairs to count as it was, Harley made it more difficult by locking up her memories in the six most secure places in the school: the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw towers, the Slytherin dungeons, the Room of Requirement and in all probability the most protective, with a password in her second language, the Chamber of Secrets. The school itself was a maze, the deceiving doors and the sneaky stairs became the perfect dead ends.
But before anyone could even step foot into the castle, the intruder had to confront Harley's army of beasts: Griffins, Sphinxes, Hippogriffs, Hagrid's younger brother, Grawp the giant (which wasn't easy for one to think about), a pack of wolves and Grims, a pride of lions and a leap of panther, and finally the last two ― the most powerful ― a group of Dementors and a single Basilisk. If anyone was lucky enough to get inside her ― suitably named ― fortress, they would have one hell of a time getting past her protectors.
Harley kept her eyes locked on Snape, whose own soon transitioned from confusion to shock. "I'm sure you weren't expecting that, Professor?" her voice and eyes alight with humor.
"Certainly not, Miss Potter. Obviously, you've been practicing and improved significantly. May I ask why you didn't put that much effort during school?"
"I was careless," she answered honestly. "I'll let you in a small secret though Professor, I only started to improve this summer… Constant meditation the entire day since June…," Harley stopped abruptly, flinching slightly from the image of Sirius dying before she remembered the letter from this morning. A letter, in fact, that she didn't even know was real or not. "...I also read up on it like I should've in the first place; it's been a big help. I can only apologize for being a nuisance this past school year."
There it was again, that look of surprise in Snape's eyes. Harley laughed softly. "Do you really have that little faith in me, Professor, that I can't apologize for a mistake?"
The Professor's face quickly melded back into its emotionless mask. "Yes, well, I can only hope you continue on this path this school year, Miss Potter. Surprisingly, you are in my class again this year."
It was here that Petunia decided to interrupt their civil conversation. "Well girl, let me see if you haven't concocted some way to get us sick." She held her hand out expectantly and motioned for her to drop them in her shopping basket, knowing none of the people within hearing distance would find her statement odd. Vernon and Petunia constantly spread rumors about her turning into a disturbed delinquent soon after they "graciously" took her in in the wake of her parents' deaths.
Spoon fed every bite of bullshit and accepted each one.
Harley sighed and dropped the items into the basket. "Yes, well if that was the case I would have done it a long time ago, now wouldn't I?" she practically hissed between her teeth. She gave her aunt a half-hearted fake smile and turned away, ignoring the surprised looks on Snape, his daughter and her aunt's faces. Harley breathed through her nose and offered the three a polite smile. "Sorry about that. Professor Snape, I would like to introduce my Aunt Petunia. Aunt Petunia, this is one of my teachers from school—"
"Severus," Petunia said coldly.
"Petunia... I knew that was you. You haven't… changed one bit," Snape remarked. He looked her over from head to toe with a look of familiar irritation. "How are you?"
"Quite well, thank you," she sniffed, unwilling to show weakness to a man she hasn't seen since her sister first left for school. "Come along then, Harley, we have to go so we can start dinner," Petunia ordered, moving ahead of both her niece and her teacher.
"Uh, I guess I'll see you next term, Professor. I hope you and your family have a nice rest of your summer," Harley waved, following after her aunt.
Snape returned her wave with a nod and took his daughter's hand. "Come then, Gwendolyn, your father will be expecting us home soon."
'I only hope, Harley, that you won't be angry when you find out the truth...'
No, this is not Rise... but it is a story that's been floating around in my head and I'm very eager to write it, so I hope you'll join me for the ride. Chapter seven of Rise will be coming out soon, so for now, enjoy the Avenger in the Shadows. ~ Chiaki