All characters belong to J.K Rowling

Voices

Severus Snape was not in good mood, he glanced at his colleagues with disdain. They were acting like children on a sugar high, all because of a boy, a mere child. Potter. Oh how he hated that name. Potter this, Potter that. It was all that was talked about, constantly for the last two months. Potter, Potter, POTTER. Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, was finally coming to Hogwarts and he was going to have to teach the insufferable brat.

Insufferable, there was no other word for it. Judging by the snippets of information dropped by their "esteemed" headmaster Albus too-many-bloody-names Dumbledore, the brat was going to be more arrogant and spoiled than his father, James Potter, had been. And apparently is a little clone too he thought viciously. Just what he needed, a constant reminder of the main tormenter from his school days. Well he, Severus Snape, youngest Potion Master ever, would certainly not be pandering to the brat.

He would certainly be bringing the brat down a peg or two, he thought to himself. Harshly, quashing down the voice in his heaD. A voice that sounded suspiciously like Lily's. "My child too, Sev." Only Lily had ever called him Sev. Only Lily had found a way to see through Severus' facade to the frightened lonely boy beyond. Only Lily had accepted him for all his faults. Only Lily. The brat will be nothing but a miniature James BLOODY Potter, he argued with himself. Feeling slightly guilty as Lily's voice continued to admonish him. "My child Sev, my child too."

Severus schooled his features, his mask firmly in place. Watching as his Slytherin students seated themselves. A slight nod let his prefects know he would be available after the sorting feast. He always protected his Snakes. He kept his eye out, specifically on the ones whose home life he was monitoring. He may be the cold-hearted dungeon bat to the school, but to his snakes…. To his Snakes, he was their protector and confidant.

He felt an inner pride watching, every student presenting a united front. Masks, unemotional, closed off. Masks. They hid their feelings well. His house, he felt with pride, truly were a family. Family. A family that looked out for one another. Protecting each other from the other houses ignorance. Dunderheads. Children can not always get along, he thought ruefully. But to the outside, to those not wearing the Slytherin Green, they were united, united as one. They were family.

He fought a snarl as he was torn from his introspection by a half-heard comment. "And he has his mother's eyes", the headmaster twinkled at them. It was James Potter this, James Potter that, but his mother. Did they forget she had a name. It is Lily. He wanted to snarl, rage, break his own mask. Lay his emotions bare. He could not. He was after all, the cold-hearted bat of the dungeons. Dunderheads.

The child, he was finding it harder to refer to it as a brat, even in his own mind, has a mother. She has a name. He wanted to scream at them. HER NAME IS LILY. Her name is Lily. Lily, his beautiful Lily. No, it was a sorrowful thought. She had never been his. Lily. He wondered if he would be able to see her, see the mother. See her within the so called boy-who-lived. See her behind the arrogance of another James Potter. Lily. He was fighting an internal battle. Struggling to maintain his composure. "MY CHILD", admonished Lily's voice once again.

Severus scowled as he watched the new first years being ushered into the great hall. Watching them closely, holding a silent conversation with Poppy Pomfrey. They had perfected it over the years. A nod, a slight tilt of the head, a shifting in their seats. Silent. Identifying students he felt would need help, need monitoring.

Children were very good at hiding things like that. Hiding what they didn't want anyone to know. Hiding their shame, and he should know. He knew better than anyone. He knew the hidden strengths it took to overcome, the strength it took to admit that you couldn't do it alone. To admit the abuse. He would not ignore it Severus thought to himself, glancing at the headmaster, a split second of almost naked hatred in his eyes. No. He would not ignore it.

Severus could not sit idly by. He did not hold with such pretence. He would prove to these children, repeatedly if necessary, as he'd done so before, that he could be trusted. That he would do all in his power to help. He would fight for them when no one else would. He was their voice when they couldn't be heard.


Severus' gaze had passed the child numerous times before finally resting on her. Unknowing what he sought. He watched as she tried to shrink in on herself, trying to be a small as possible. Unnoticed among the other first years. He caught Poppy's eye, THIS IS THE ONE. His mind screamed in rage. Pain, it promised, they will feel pain. He fought down his instinct, a wave a pure Gryffindorishness, threatening to overwhelm him. He wanted to tear across the room, scoop her up in his arms. The world could burn. The world would be ravished and lay dying at his feet.

He could taste her terror, her pain that she fought to keep so well hidden. This small child, who barely looked eight, let alone eleven which would be her age. Infinite fury coursed through his veins. Who dares, he wanted answers. Who dares, he fought the urge to demand. Who dares hurt she who is mine. MINE. Mine, he felt the truth of it within his soul. And in his mind he heard Lily laugh, Lily's laugh as it never had been. Bitter and full of rage, a rage that was so palpable he was surprised the children weren't shrieking in terror. Had nobody else felt it, it seemed impossible that no one else had noticed. That no one else had heard.

The waif of a girl flinched instinctively away from a nearby boy. Weasley, he sneered within his mind, another one. Her head raised as she moved. He sat there, paralysed, fighting to keep his mask in place. His black obsidian eyes caught by glowing emerald green. Lily's eyes. IMPOSSIBLE. Yet he knew it to be truth. Lily's eyes blazed at him from the too small, too tiny, waif of a girl. He fought to keep himself seated as he once again heard Lily's voice, "MY CHILD."

Only this time, he truly heard it. A voice full of infinite sorrow and fury. It was laced with a passion that promised retribution. It terrified him. There was no justice for those who had perpetrated such a wrong. Lily's voice promised pain, only pain.

The world would burn to atone for such wrongs. He knew it to be a truth. He felt a hand clamp down on his thigh, as his mask once again slid into place. Poppy, minutely moving her head side to side. NO. Their silent conversation telling him now was not the time. But she had seen it too. She would be with him, fighting to save the child from the horrors that had been her world. But whether they would save the world from the child was yet to be decided.

Her gaze was torn from his as he heard the name Potter being called. As she looked away, he caught a glimpse of hopelessness in her eyes. It confused him, the hopelessness, it was not for herself. It was for everyone else. He realised, as the headmaster was moving the sorting on, that they were all waiting in vain. That it was indeed a hopeless wait. Hopeless because there never was a Harry James Potter. He felt a shudder of suppressed rage, a shudder of conflicted emotions, go though Poppy, her hand still clamped tightly on his thigh. She knew it too, and like him, she too, would want answers.

He continued to observe the child, waiting with her patiently. Waiting for her name to be called. Until she was the last one. She stood, looking so alone, yet also resigned to the fact. Alone? Unwanted? Questions sparked in his mind. Curious, he thought, wondering what could entail such a look. He watched her unconsciously shake her head, brought out of her reverie by the question Minerva asked her. Her response was inaudible, her lips moved, but no sound escaped.

"Speak up" he told her. Severus couldn't help it. He found the reactions of those in the hall droll. The school which always had a hum of noise, even in the quiet, was now completely silent. Waiting on her words, words that would end their confusion. He smirked and raised an eyebrow in amusement. He knew her answers would only cause more questions, more confusion, and so he smirked.

She glared straight at him. Good he thought to himself. Smirking slightly wider in response. He saw her spirit as she called out loudly, "Potter". The gasps of disbelief broke the spell of silence. He half stood, no longer fighting to keep his mask in place, as she continued. Her voice held a challenge, as if to disabuse those who would call her false. "My name is Harisa Jamesia Potter and I am the DAUGHTER", he heard the conviction and truth in her voice, the challenge to those who denied her, her strength to overcome. "I am the DAUGHTER of Lily and James Potter."

He hurried across the hall as pandemonium ensued. He felt more than saw the adrenaline leave her system, as she faltered in her stance. He swooped down catching her just before she hit the floor, collapsing in his arms. Harisa, her named blazed within Severus' mind.

Voices echoed in his mind. He shook his head, a desperate attempt to clear his mind. An unwelcome voice. A voice he hated. A voice Severus was secretly glad to never hear again for all the pain and torment it had caused. A voice he utterly despised.

"Protect her", he heard James Potter say. "Protect her, you are her hidden strength and there is no one else in this world we would trust with one so precious." Lily and James' voices continued to whisper in his head, entreating him, they had given their lives. There was nothing more important. He knew not how long their voices spoke, an eternity, a mere moment. Their voices wove through him and around him. Wrapping him in magic, entrusting him to a task he would not fail.

"And for what it is worth Severus, I am sorry." Severus knew James was no longer speaking about the child in his arms, but of times long past and memories hidden deep. James spoke of times Severus fervently wished to forget. Oh Merlin, I am lost, he thought as he felt Poppy guide him to the school infirmary. Lost, his thoughts whispered, as the glowing emerald eyes of the girl he carried in his arms, closed in unconsciousness.