Chapter 21: In memorium

Author's Notes:

Hope you all like this one- it's probably been my favourite to write so far!

The floo dumped her into Severus' quarters. She thought that she was getting better at floo travel with practice: she hardly ever fell over anymore. The living room was empty. "Hello?" she called.

"Harriet?" Robin's voice floated through from the door by the fireplace. A moment later, he'd appeared too, a broad smile on his face. "You came. Did you like the flowers? I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked, but they made me think of you…"

She smiled in spite of herself. "They're lovely, thank you. I don't know what kind of flowers I like either."

Severus appeared from the kitchen, drying his long hands on a tea towel. ""Your mother liked daisies," he offered. "We'll be eating soon, would you like to eat here or go to dinner with your friends, Harriet?"

The mention of her mother, on top of knowing about Neville and Dumbledore's visit to Godric's Hollow, proved to be just too much for Harriet. She sniffled, trying to hold back the tears, but they fell anyway. She scrunched up her eyes as Robin wrapped his arms around her. "What is it?" he asked softly. "What's the matter? Tell me, Harriet..."

She shook her head. "It's so stupid," she forced out. "Why am I always crying? It's nothing…" She buried her face into Robin's t shirt. "Dumbledore took Neville to Godric's Hollow." She choked on the mumbled words.

"Come again? What was that?" Robin asked, puzzled.

"Come here," Severus said from behind her. His hands prised her away from Robin, and he swung her into his arms like she was a child. Somehow, the gesture truly opened the floodgates, and she began to cry in earnest: loud, breath-stealing sobs. Severus settled into his chair and held her close against her chest as she gulped in mouthfuls of air only to cry them back out again. One hand petted her head gently even as the other pulled her against him. "It's okay, Harriet, you cry all you need to." Severus' shirt smelled of roasting chicken and juniper.

Over her head, she heard Severus explaining to Robin. "Her parents lived in Godric's Hollow," he explained. "The house they were killed in has been left as a monument to the Potters. It would seem that the Headmaster has taken one of her friends to the house for some reason, without telling her. I would suppose that my mention of her mother has distressed her further." Severus used the corner of a white handkerchief to dab away the dripping contents of her nose.

By the time she had cried herself into exhaustion, Robin had settled on the floor by Severus' feet. Severus had stayed silent, just holding her. When she'd been quiet save for a few snuffles for a minute, he spoke. "Is that better?" he asked.

"I think so," she whimpered, her voice hoarse from crying. Severus shifted her until she was sitting on his knee instead of limp against his chest, one arm still supporting her. Robin offered a glass of cold water, which she took eagerly in both hands, gulping to replace the water she'd lost.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Severus enquired. "I find myself quite curious about the reasoning for a visit to Godric's Hollow by young Longbottom, unless Albus wished to scare him into action."

"They were looking for a horcrux," Harriet said. "It isn't fair! How come Neville gets to go? It's my house!"

She was becoming agitated again, and Severus hushed her soothingly, one long-fingered hand stroking her hair. "You're right, it isn't fair. So much of your life hasn't been fair, Harriet, but then, which of us can say that life deals us a pleasant hand? Not Longbottom, certainly."

She knew he was right, but she didn't want to hear about anyone else's bad luck right now. "Why are you even being nice to me?" she demanded petulantly. "You're supposed to hate me because I look like my dad."

Severus sighed deeply. "I never liked having to deal with 'Harry'," he began. "You were so like James, but you've matured now, far more so than he ever did. You must try to understand, I was waiting for Harriet- the perfect little girl that I pulled into the world, that I named, and that I, as much as I hated it, had to hide, to keep James Potter from infanticide. I hated the duplicity."

"But I'm the same person," Harriet sniffled.

"I know," Severus said, offering her the handkerchief. "Call it my own foolishness."

"I've never seen it," she admitted quietly some moments later.

"Never seen what?" Severus asked.

"The house. I can't remember it. I want to go, to see it."

Severus sat thinking for a few minutes. "It's in ruins," he said eventually. "Everything's in tatters. It would need a lot of work to look anything like what it should. The roof fell three years ago, and it was encrusted in dirt before that. Lily would have been horrified. Nevertheless, if that's what you want, the headmaster should allow you to leave the school to see it, although I would suggest most strongly that you take a guard with you. A guard meaning aurors, not your ragtag gaggle of friends. You have your majority, so you cannot be stopped from visiting a property you own."

"I want to see it," Harriet said firmly. "I'll ask Dumbledore tomorrow."

"I would advise against giving him the knowledge that you are aware of his visit there," Severus cautioned. "Perhaps you might like to inspect the Potter property in Edinburgh at the same time?"

Harriet nodded gratefully at the idea. Severus spoke again, hesitant this time. "In addition, if you wished, I could show you some memories of the house before it was destroyed. You were born there, so I visited, although only once."

She looked up at him, eyes wide. "Yes please," she said. eagerly. If he was going to show her memories of the house, then he might show her memories of her parents.

He smiled down at her fondly. "After we eat, though."

She fidgeted through dinner, roast chicken with mash and vegetables, eaten at the table in Severus' little kitchen, which, contrary to popular belief, contained no cauldrons big enough to boil a third year. "Is this what having a parent is like?" she asked after Severus had told her to calm down and eat.

"Yes," Robin said morosely, his head resting on one hand, the other drawing lazy patterns in the gravy with his fork. His father glared at him and tapped at his elbow until he removed it from the table.

"I kind of like it," she said quietly. "No one's ever held me while I cried before this year."

"Oh, Harriet," Robin gasped, "That's terrible."

"I'm sorry, Harriet," Severus said. "I wish that I could have done right by you, all these years. I wanted to raise you as my own, when your mother was killed, but Dumbledore felt that I was too valuable as a spy to lose. I sometimes think I should have disregarded his advice: I should have heeded my duty to you."

"To me?" she asked in surprise. "What duty? Did my mum ask you to take care of me, or…"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Severus said. "I am your godfather, after all."

"No," Harriet said after a moment's pause and a frown, "Sirius was my godfather."

Severus shook his head with a little smile. "You, my dear, are in the highly unusual position of having two magical godparents. You were named twice. Just after your birth, I named you Harriet Jane, thus registering your birth with the Ministry. Lily and I performed the spells to disguise your sex, and not more than a quarter of an hour later, Black named you Harry James, thus replacing the Ministry's records of Harriet with those of Harry. You have two names, two godfathers and two birth certificates. Your Hogwarts and Ministry records were changed back to your original name by Albus shortly after your birthday."

Harriet tried to process this. Robin spoke before she could. "Hang on," he said, "if you need to have a magical godparent to be registered with the Ministry, who's mine?"

"Lily was your godmother," Severus told him. "I wouldn't have trusted anyone else with the knowledge of your very existence at the time. I was still too new in the Dark Lord's camp, too observed. I couldn't risk your life with someone I couldn't trust absolutely."

"So," Harriet said slowly, "that's why you had my birth certificate? That was what convinced Ron it was really me- the birth certificate. But my muggle one is for Harry."

Severus nodded. "Yes, because muggle births are registered in the usual way for wizards and muggles alike- by visiting the registry office, which your parents did. I don't know how you would go about changing your identity in the muggle world, should you wish to do so."

That made sense, Harriet supposed. She tried to stifle a yawn, but she wasn't fooling Severus or Robin. "Go and sit in the living room," he instructed the two younger members of the party. "I'm sure you can find something to talk about. I have a few matters which require my attention."

Harriet wanted to know what, but she knew by now that Severus didn't volunteer information that he didn't want to. She hoped he hadn't forgotten his promise to show her the memories of Godric's Hollow.

Robin tucked her up next to him on the sofa, fetching a blanket from one of the rooms beyond the fireplace. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, her eyes dry and stinging after her earlier tears and the beginnings of a headache twinging in her temples. Robin leaned down to kiss her forehead. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Better, thanks," Harriet mumbled, her eyes closed in contentment. Their position reminded her a little of his hands between her legs, bringing her to her first shuddering climax. She tried to put the thought from her mind; they couldn't exactly repeat the exercise in Severus' living room. "I'm sorry I keep crying on you."

"You've had enough reason to cry," he assured her softly. "Has what's-his-name, was it Blaise? given you any trouble?"

"No, he hasn't so much as looked at me since. He's got detention every night for two weeks, so I suppose he doesn't have much energy left."

"I can't believe writing lines is supposed to be a harsh enough punishment," Robin growled.

Harriet chucked at that. "Writing lines? Not a chance! He's with Filch- he'll have all the nastiest jobs. Detention with Filch is worse than detention with Snape."

"I've never heard you call him by his last name before," Robin said.

"I, erm, try to keep Severus and Snape separate in my mind. Severus holds me when I cry, and Snape tells me off because I haven't chopped my foxglove finely enough and insists that I am trying to kill everyone with an exploded cauldron."

Robin tried to stifle his laugh, but couldn't, instead coming out with a snorting chuckle. "Okay, I can see that the two don't go together," he admitted. He brushed her hair back off her face and she sighed in contentment at his touch. "Would you like to see my bedroom?" he asked in a murmur a minute later. "After all, I've seen yours… it only seems fair."

"Is that a proposition?" she asked with a grin.

"Only a little one," he said with mock-seriousness. "After all, I can't imagine that my dad will be gone for that long."

Harriet had expected Robin's room to be quite bare: after all, he didn't actually live here. She was surprised.

She supposed that anyone would gasp when they looked up at the high ceiling in his room. Painted wooden models of birds were charmed to hover above head height, lazily drifting around the room. Robin reached up and snagged a bird as it floated past. He offered it to her to examine with a smile.

It was a little brown bird with a scarlet red breast. "A robin," she said with a grin.

"Yeah. It was the first. I used to make these, a bit of a hobby. They used to be lined up on shelves, but when I moved them here, Dad enchanted them for me. They roost when I go to bed." He pointed at the rail running around the room just below ceiling height. "Sheba's just about stopped trying to catch them. She broke a couple, at first." Harriet let the painted bird go, watching it float up to join its fellows. She looked around the rest of the room. Sheba opened one green eye from her perch on the bed, then went back to sleep.

He had his father's affinity for books. Lined up on his shelves, in leather or good fabric bindings, was row upon row of books, all except the bottom shelf which held dog-eared children's books. Hermione would love this room, Harriet thought, looking at the half wall of bookshelves, the big desk (which held lined pads of paper and ballpoint pens, not quills and parchment) with ragged paperbacks strewn across it. Harriet loved the birds, the deep blue rug which her toes sank into like sand, the big fireplace and huge cushions strewn on the floor in front of it. She flopped down onto one of the oversized pillows with a grin, the heat from the fireplace warming her face. "Do you stay here often?" she asked as he joined her on the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees and letting his hair fall forward.

"Not so much anymore," he said. "I have uni, and work. It's a nice escape from everything, though. My downstairs neighbour is having a party tonight, which I really didn't fancy listening to. Well, it was more that I wanted to see you."

The smile that plastered her face must have looked ridiculous, she thought. He didn't seem to mind, though, pulling her into his side. His face hovered just above hers for a moment as he looked at her, his eyes searching hers.

His kiss was sweet and gentle. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. "God, Harriet, I want you so much," he breathed when he broke the kiss, his forehead leaning against hers.

"I want you too," she replied.

"Harriet… I've got to ask. Are you on any kind of contraceptive? I don't want us to get carried away one day and, well…"

"It's okay," she assured him with a blush. "I am. Well, I think I need another dose in a few days, but yeah."

He stroked a big hand over her cheek. "Make sure you take it, yeah? Or tell me if you don't want to, and I can take something."

"I will," she promised him, reaching up for another kiss. He gladly obliged her.

"Well," Severus' voice drawled from the doorway, "I wasn't aware that this was my living room."

They sprang apart guiltily, but Robin kept one arm tucked around Harriet's waist, giving his father a challenging look. Severus just rolled his eyes. "At least you weren't in bed. Come on," he said, "If you want to see these memories, Harriet, you'll have to come through to the living room."

The first thing Harriet saw in the living room was the carved stone bowl of the pensieve on the table, the ghostly shimmer of memories flitting inside. "This will be rather more comfortable than legilimency," Severus explained. As she watched, he raised his wand to his temple, drawing out gossamer wisps of memory. Carefully he flicked them into the bowl. "Would you like to go in alone, or with company?" he asked. She bit her lip, unsure. Did she want to see it alone? She had to admit, she was almost scared of the memory. And it was Severus' memory- he knew it already. "Can you come too, please?" she asked.

"Of course. Alone, or with Robin?"

"Can squibs use a pensieve?" she asked curiously. Robin winced. She wondered if there was a nicer word for the magic-less- he clearly wasn't keen on squib. Severus inclined his head. "Yes. Even a muggle can view a pensieve. It is only the extraction of memories that requires magical power."

She offered a hand to Robin, the question in her eyes. He smiled kindly and took her hand in his, stepping up to the shimmering stone bowl. "I don't know how to do this," he admitted.

"Just lean forward until you touch the mist," Severus advised him. Harriet tipped into the pensieve, feeling the tug on her hand as Robin followed a few moments later. Severus coalesced beside her just as a knock sounded on the front door. Harriet looked around.

They were tucked into the corner of the hall, just next to the stairs. She noticed with glee that there was no cupboard under the stairs; instead, the space was open, housing a loaded coat rack and a sideboard strewn with bits of post and a pot of owl treats. "James, can you get that? It'll be Severus." Her heart lurched at the sound of her mother's voice: sweet and soft.

"You can still change your mind," James answered. His voice, at least, Harriet knew from her previous foray into Snape's mind in the pensieve in fifth year, though it had been harsher then. He didn't speak in jeers now, although that might have been more to do with his other conversant than age. "We can go to St. Mungo's. It would be much better."

"Get the door, James," Lily sighed. Harriet watched the man she resembled so closely meander across the hall from the door behind them: she caught a glimpse of a bright kitchen. It was hard to believe that this man would have killed her for the simple crime of being a female child.

He unlocked the door. "Snape," he snapped.

A younger, smoother Severus stepped into the hall, his hair smoothly tied back from his face, which was unlined. He'd been ravaged by the last seventeen years, Harriet realised. He looked tired, but nowhere near the bat of the Hogwarts dungeons. "Potter. How is Lily?"

James' face twisted with a seer as he backed Severus into the corner by the door. "If you know what's good for her, you'll send her to St. Mungo's, Snivellus," he hissed. "Odd way to get into her knickers, this."

"I'll do what's best for Lily," Severus said smoothly, ducking out from behind James. "Where is she?"

James inclined his head to the other door, and Harriet, Robin and older Severus followed them through to the bright room. The overwhelming feeling of the whole house was one of light and air, with the windows open and the French doors to the garden thrown wide. The sweet smell of the lilacs that flanked the doors hung in the air. Lily smiled up at the two men, her hands resting on the massive swell of her belly. Severus perched on the corner of the footstool holding her delicate feet aloft. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"A bit nervous," she admitted.

"Which is why you need to be with an experienced midwife. A woman," James cut in.

"I trust Severus," she replied, her gentle smile not wavering. James sighed deeply, but fell silent.

Older Severus best down to mutter into Harriet's ear. "Your mother always knew how to keep your father calm. She had a temper all of her own, but she rarely showed it to James." Harriet nodded, transfixed by her mother's face as she spoke to Severus, her hands rested against her bump- the bump that was her, she realised with a little frisson of surprise. It wasn't only Severus who was here twice; she was too.

They followed Severus and Lily up to the back bedroom, all blond wood and deep Gryffindor red accents. Here, though, the memory fizzled, going indistinct and moving in a swirl of colour and white noise. "Forgive me, but I could not bring myself to share this part of my memory," Severus explained. "I wish to preserve Lily's modesty. Childbirth is a messy, embarrassing business."

The colours coalesced back into sense after a few moments longer as Severus carefully held a bundle of mint-green blanket in his arms. "I recognise this child, and give her up to the powers of the world. Harriet Jane, may your path be joyous and your troubles few." In the air before him, a spot shimmered and expanded, a piece of parchment forming in the glow. Severus caught it with one hand, the other holding baby Harriet close to him. He carefully transferred the bundle of baby to Lily's waiting arms. He also passed her her wand from the bedside table.

What happened next was clearly rehearsed. They spoke in unison, unknown lilting words lost in the swirling light surrounding baby Harriet. She squalled, bunching up her tiny red face against the brightness.

Gradually, the light faded. "Did it work, Severus?" Lily asked, her voice hoarse. Her face was drawn and pale.

"What's wrong with her?" older Harriet asked older Severus.

"Nothing. It was very advanced and draining magic, especially just following a birth," he explained softly. "Nothing to worry about."

Young Severus checked beneath the blankets. "It is done," he intoned. "I'll fetch Potter and Black." He leaned down to kiss Lily chastely on her forehead and brushed a single pale finger over baby Harriet's cheek- or was it now Harry's? They watched as James met his son, and Sirius said the same words as Severus had, naming the baby Harry James. Seeing shaggy, grinning Sirius left Harriet with as much of an ache in her heart as seeing her parents again.

The last part of the memory saw a still pale and slightly shaky Lily show baby Harry his bedroom: all green and blue with white painted furniture, as Neville had said, with soft, squashy cuddly dragons and kneazles and a mobile of golden snitches. She caught sight of a spotty piggy bank on the chest of drawers. It was a pretty room, but Harriet didn't remember it.

The real world formed around her again as they left the memories.

"I remember her," Robin said quietly. "Lily… did I meet her?"

"A few times," Severus said. "She took you to the park one day when you were three, not long before she died. I had to… take your mum somewhere."

Robin smiled down at Harriet. "I played with you when you were a baby," he remembered. "We've met before… I just didn't realise it was you."

He leant down to kiss her sweetly, and she clung to him.