Chapter 1: Of Keys and Cupboards Chapter Text

Disclaimer: I don't own J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter does. Wait a minute...

~dream~

"Kill the spare," a high, cold, cruel voice that has haunted Hyacinth since her parents' death hisses.

A million thoughts fly through Hyacinth's mind.

Nononono.

Please no. Not again.

"Please. Please don't kill her!"

"Avada Kedavra!" a second, slightly whimpering, voice says.

"Please I'll do anything!"

A bright jet of dark green light headed their way.

"Step aside girl."

It flies past her and zooms toward Cedric.

"No! Take me. Take me instead!"

His expression that had been full of confusion turns into one of dawning horror as the spell hits him square in the chest.

~dream~

...

It's around midnight when they come to spring me from the prison of Privet Drive. Since I got Hermione's letter, I've been waiting up every night, sitting by the windowsill in the bedroom that still doesn't really belong to me. Of course, it would have been blatantly obvious who they were and why they were here even without the advanced warning considering how they're dressed. Robes, honestly?

There's an outraged yell from downstairs, and I brought out of my musings. The source is almost certainly Uncle Vernon. It's honestly a bit surprising they got into the house without Aunt Petunia shrieking fit to bring the whole neighborhood down. More than once I've wished that, instead of killing Cedric, or my parents, or Siri, ol' Moldie and his Death Munchers could've moved themselves to be useful for a change and offed the dear Dursleys instead.

Speaking of Death Snackers . . .

"-tter . . ." comes a faint call.

"Miss Potter!"

"MISS POTTER!" The oh-so-dulcet tones of Severus Snape reach me. I glance away from the window to find him standing in the doorway wearing an expression kindly described as agitated. I didn't realize I'd left it open. Or how quietly he can move.

"Sir." I reply curtly.

He raises an eyebrow, glaring at me in suspicion. Does he think I was mocking him? While it is perfectly true that I've never voluntarily called him sir, I reserve the right to be inconsistent. Besides, there was nothing mocking in my tone. I mean, sure, it was out of character, but I'm sleep deprived! Surely I'm entitled.

"Might I kindly suggest that you get a move on, Miss Potter? I'd prefer us to be on our way before I have to stun your uncle again," he sneers. I refrain from rolling my eyes; I understand this is probably near the top of his top ten list of places he'd rather not be (I mean, same here), but does he have to be such a dick about it? Silly me, what was I thinking? It's Severus Snape; of course he does.

Snape glares at me as if he knows precisely what I'm thinking. Course, he probably does. Git.

I ignore him as I walk past him, down the stairs, and to the cupboard under them. Wasn't expecting that, was he? I know what he thinks of me. 'Little Princess Potter. A stuck up brat who's never faced the harshness of the world.' Yeah, right.

Now, where are those keys? I check under the mat – no. On the rack – no. Where the hell are they?!

There's an annoyed sigh behind me as I frantically search for the keys hidden by my darling only living relatives. ("Petunia! Hide the trunk! We wouldn't want the freak to hurt our Diddykins, now would we?")

I can practically here him rolling his eyes. "Accio cupboard keys!"

I turn with a frown to see the keys zooming toward us from the direction of the kitchen. Huh.

"Thanks, Snape," I mutter as I take the keys now dangling from his index finger. He raises an eyebrow, his expression sardonic. I blush, simultaneously embarrassed and irritated, feeling more chastised than if he'd actually told me off for wasting his time.

I turn my attention to the cupboard. Okay. Deep breath. It will be the first time you will see the letters Siri gave you before he died, but you will not cry. You can't. You can't afford to break down. Never mind in front of Snape. Never that. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. Oh, you're doing so well!

Eventually, I find the right key. It feels like millennia before I even manage to get the cupboard open, but somehow I do. I manage to pull the trunk and the letters out before I'm momentarily lost in memory.

~flashback~

"Come on you can do better than that!" Sirius bellows from behind me.

I turn around just in time to see BellaBitch throw an orange curse at him. His eyes connecting with hers as he is pushed back, near the Veil. His once handsome face so full of jubilation turning to dawning horror, his body arching, turning, falling, into the veil.

Nonononono.

This was not supposed to happen.

He was supposed to get her away from the Durselys.

"SIRIUS!"

~flashback~

It is with blurry eyes that I stand up and walk into the living room.

...

AN: A billion thanks to my beta on ao3, dezlizabethl22, and a mountain of cupcakes to the people who bookmarked this and to mymi095 and liseyyyy88 for pointing out my mistakes.

Also, people have told me that I spelled snarkiness wrong in the title. That's actually meant to be like that...

Signing out,

Alairia_Young