A/N: I'm back, even though I only got one review last chapter, thank you angelkitty77 for that, and I'm off to finish this chapter. So, remember, the story isn't mine, and I really don't want to take over the world…or at least not right now. Oh, and the poem is mine, I made it up myself. If you'd like to read the rest visit My pen name is Ocean Born Mary.
Saving Grace
Chapter 12
Severus Snape swept down the hallway like an overgrown bat, but right now he was not very characteristic of one. Instead, he looked like a very large steam engine about to blow its whistle at the poor dear caught in the middle of his tracks. In this case, the students that were in the halls, as well as the Professors, made haste to move from his path of trajectory, afraid of being flattened into the stone floor. He headed straight for the unsuspecting gargoyle, which, as soon as it saw him, leapt from Snape's path, revealing the staircase, which Snape ran up, ignoring the fact that it could move on its own. "Headmaster!" The office was empty. A note was left on the desk which read, 'Went to Hogsmede for more lemon drops, will be back by lunch. Albus Dumbledore.' "Damn the man and his lemon fetish," muttered Snape. Pulling a sugar quill from the canister on the Headmaster's desk and reaching across for the purple ink that the Headmaster was currently using, he added on to the bottom of the note. 'Taking leave, family business. Will contact later. Severus Snape.' And with that, he took off once again towards the dungeon, not even apologizing to Trelawney as he shoved her into a suite of armor, which, causing a domino affect, landed the first year standing at the end of the hallway into the hospital wing.
(Right, Left….third house)
The picket fence was white and connected to a gate that was currently open, welcoming in the weary stranger who walked by looking for companionship. Flowers in yellows and purples lined a stone walkway, baskets of them hung from the porch roof, and the grass in the lawn was green. The house itself was a pale yellow, the shutters painted white and thrown open to let in the cool ocean breeze that brought with it the tangy smell of salt water, and purple wisteria climbed up the drain pipe to drape in front of the house. In a few years it would most likely dominate the front. There were two windows on either side of the white door, each held a screen to keep the local wildlife out. A large tree was in the front right of the lawn, and a tire swing fell from one of the larger branches. Draco had stopped, leaning on the white fence, staring at the house. He scanned the yard and noticed the hawk in the tree, this had to be the right house. "Draco? What's wrong? Let's go and knock."
Draco sighed and dropped his head into the crook of his arm, watching a beetle climb up the white paint. "I…I don't know if I want to knock, Harry. I don't know."
"Why? We've come all this way, and now that we saw your sister's house you want to go back? Draco?"
Draco's vision of the beetle blurred, and he felt something wet falling down his face. He became very glad that Harry couldn't see his face from here. "Harry…I, I thought she was dead…"
"And she's alive! Merlin Draco! If I found out that my parents were alive I wouldn't hesitate! I would go and find them! At least then I'd know."
"Know what?" asked Draco, his voice sounded funny to him.
"Whether they cared, why they didn't come for me, what parts of me are like them, did the love me…At least I'd know whether or not they cared. And even if they didn't…even if your sister doesn't, Draco, you'll still have me." Harry moved towards Draco's slumped body and wrapped his arms around him in a hug, which Draco turned to meet, wrapping his arms around Harry as tears fell, hanging on for dear life. "You'll always have me."
(Hogwarts…Dungeons)
"Where would they go…Where would they…" Snape was pacing across Draco's room, looking for some hint of where the boys would have gone to look for Cassie. There was no note, nothing to hint at where they had disappeared to. Their books were gone, their cloaks, and a variety of Muggle clothes, as if they had been planning on visiting more than non-magical place, considering that none of their robes were gone, though they both had taken their wands with them. He moved to the desk and began rifling through papers until he found a black leather book, with a silver embossed D. M. Draco's diary.
6/27
Mum was mad again today. She knows I don't want to take the Mark. She blames it all on school, said she should have sent me to Durmstrang as my father wished.
6/30
Father's at it again…
Snape winced, he had gone through his Father being 'At it again' a few times. Carefully he flipped the pages until he reached the last entry. It was undated, and he had a feeling that Draco had been using the page for something other than a diary entry. In Draco's neat, precise, handwriting, Snape recognized a list of the fifty states in America. Sitting down on the green bedspread, he scanned down, seeing that each had a number to the left of it. The one with the number one was circled, Maine. Ahh…so that's where they were right now.
(In front of the gate)
It had only taken a few seconds for Draco to compose himself; he had become an expert of not showing emotion over the years. Showing emotion was not safe, showing emotion would get you hurt. That was all that showing emotion is good for. Harry loosened his hold on Draco at the same time that Draco did the same, and both turned together to face the small cottage. Grinning, Harry bowed low, sweeping his fingertips against the ground. "After you, milord." Smiling, Draco took a deep breath and took a step through the gate, and then another, and then another. It seemed to take an eternity to make it to the porch steps, and with Harry right behind them, he slowly mounted them, stepping lightly on the creaking wood, partially hoping that the woman who owned the house wouldn't be home, or if she was, that it all would be a mistake.
Harry waited patiently until Draco steeled himself to knock on the door, and waiting two seconds, tried to dash away with a "No one's home", but was interrupted by a young woman's voice calling, "I'm in the back!". The accent was a decidedly British, but Draco convinced himself all the way around the house that it was just a coincidence. But when he looked at the thin back of the woman with her hair pulled up behind a large garden hat pulling weeds, he knew that it was no coincidence, and when she turned to address him and he saw the familiar grey eyes and the spattering of freckles across her nose, currently joined by a smudge of dirt, even though they were shaded by her hat, his heart seemed to catch in his throat and he was unable to speak. "Are you boys looking for something? Young man," she addressed Draco, "Is something wrong?" She pulled off her gloves and stood, her long flowered skirt pooling at her ankles.
"Yes…" he said, "and no. Everything is going to be fine now…I think everything is going to be fine…May we…talk to you inside?"
"Of course. My name's Elizabeth, but everyone calls me Lizzy, and you are?"
"I'm Harry, and this is Draco, and…we have a lot to talk about."
(Floo Station)
"You're sure you saw two teenage boys, about yay high, one with black hair, the other with blonde?"
"Yes, Mr. Snape. And may I ask that if you see either of the two of them you pass this phone number onto them?"
"You certainly may not! Teenagers these days!" With that Snape walked towards the Maine fireplace, muttering about the indecency of today's generation.
(Elizabeth's House)
"Would you boys like anything to drink? Lemonade? Tea?"
"Tea would be nice, thank you," called Harry, watching Draco's face from the chair he sat in. He couldn't quite tell what was going through the other boy's mind, and he wasn't sure in he wanted to know. Since Draco didn't look like having any sort of conversation, Harry decided to pick it up as soon as she walked back into the room, instead of a pair of gloves she was holding a tea tray, and her hair was about halfway down her back and a very deep brown. Scanning the room Harry looked for something to start a conversation about. "That's a very nice owl, where did you get it?"
"Oh, I've had Peanuts since before I could remember. Not that that matters. One lump of sugar or two?"
"Since before you can remember?" asked Draco. "Have you always been called Elizabeth?"
"The woman at the orphanage said that was my…You have no reason you need to know these things, why are you here? And if you're here to try to make me remember what I've tried to forget these past few years, than you may leave. You have no reason to but into my personal life."
Harry felt that Draco was all ready treading on thin ice, but then he pulled out two things that Harry had never seen before. One was a ragged old, hand-sown doll, the other was a crumpled black and white Muggle photograph. "I'm sorry, but do you recognize the person in this picture?"
"How…how did you get this?" she whispered, taking it in her hand. "Did…did my ex-boyfriend tell you to do this! Did he! How did you get this picture of me?" Her hands were trembling, the photo fell to the floor, and she set down her tea, afraid of breaking the delicate china. "Never mind…just…leave! Now! I never want to…"
"Wait!" cried Draco. "Tell me if you remember this," he held out the worn doll. "If you don't, we'll leave, and we'll never come back. I swear it." The woman looked at him suspiciously, Harry could see her eyes held unshed tears. Slowly, she reached out and took the doll in her shaking hands, and with gentle fingers, she brushed back the pink bonnet to reveal the yellow locks of yarn, her nail traced over the worn lips and smoothed the wrinkled dress. "I'm sorry," she said handing the doll back. "I don't know what you want, but I don't know this doll. And I don't know how you got my picture, but I'd appreciate it if you left. You've brought up enough bad memories all ready."
"We're sorry," said Draco quietly. "We'll take our leave." He and Harry stood, but as Draco bent down to retrieve his lost picture, he began to hum. Harry noticed the woman look up, startled, from her hands, which she had been intently studying a moment before.
"What is that?"
"What is what?" asked Draco, straightening.
"That song?"
"Oh, that…something my sister used to sing to me when I was little. She made it up for me. Would you like to hear it?"
The woman half nodded, which Draco took as acquiescence.
"The walls close in,
The sky turns grey,
Guess you can never win
It's just another darkened ray.
A child cries
A baby screams
A flower dies
A life of broken dreams
Broken Halo
Damaged Wings…"
Harry saw the woman mouthing words, the words to the song. "Stop! Stop singing." She looked up at Draco and picked up elsewhere in the song.
"Do not worry,
I'm on my way,
I'll try to hurry,
And meet you here today."
Together they whispered the chorus, and Harry sat back in the chair, watching as Draco reached for the woman's hand.
"Broken Halo
Damaged Wings
And a voice that cannot sing
Came from heaven
Don't look now
Another angel is falling down."
Harry moved to the kitchen, knowing he was witnessing a very private moment between abrother and sister, one he'd never be able to have himself, but before he disappeared into the kitchen, he heard her say. "Who are you? No…who am I?"
"It doesn't matter," whispered Draco. "As long as you're still my sister."
