A/N: Here we go again! I wanted to finish this chapter for a while, but was busy learning hebrew. But here it is :)
GiuliaAurorax: You are very welcome! And thank you so much for your kind words :D
As always, I am happy to hear your thoughts, good and bad. Enjoy!
Warnings: Mentions of death, suicide, violence, ritual murder and... no, that was it.
Morning
23 December
Malfoy Manor
Surrounding area of Exeter, Wales
James woke up to the pleasant feeling of silken bed sheets and the familiar annoyance of Draco hogging the giant bed. Hoping it would encourage him to move, she gave his knee a gentle shove. She got was a kick sending her out of the bed squealing. She lay on the thick carpet, contemplating her life-choices (including letting her best friend sleep in her bed against better judgement) with all the seriousness a six-year-old could muster. Then she saw the little mountains of presents, remembered what day it was and got up, "Draco, wake up!"
"L'm seep," was his very articulate answer. He was even more averse to getting up in the morning than Severus. Not, that it was by any means early…
Not the slightest but discouraged she jumped back onto the bed, landing next to him, "Little Draaaagon," she sing song, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, "We got preeesents…"
He blinked a few moments, "… It's boxing day."
"You truly are a Ravenclaw in the making," James teased. Draco shoved her of the bed again.
"Oi! You can't treat me this way, I have guest rights!"
"You are family, that doesn't count!" He grinned down at her from the bed.
She merely giggled at his comment, too content with the normalcy of the morning to complain or even muster annoyance, "Sure thing, cousin - Want to destroy some wrapping paper?"
"Merlin, yes!"
When the adults came half an hour later to see what their kids were up to, the floor was littered with colourful scraps.
"I trust you enjoy your present?" Severus asked, taking a sip from his mug.
"Sev!" Somehow her godfather managed to catch her as she jumped up to hug him without spilling any coffee, "I got so much cool stuff! Thank you!"
"You are very welcome, Corbillat."
Draco was already showing of his presents to his mother, taking one piece after another from his heap. Severus thought amused, it looked not unlike the pile a dragon would build with his hoarded treasures.
James had put her gifts on her bed, clearly exited about all of them. And her godfather agreed that she had every right to be. He had scanned all the presents for foul tinkering, poisons and the like beforehand (just in case someone had somehow managed to interject the post), but for her sake he pretended surprise.
He himself had gotten her new brushes, a thick bundle of line board and a set of magical paints, which would stick to every thinkable and unthinkable surface. He had tried to argue with her about painting on the walls in her bedroom, but on second thought: It was a boring, white tapestry and it was nothing magic wouldn't fix and she had fun. The last point had been decisive.
His other present was small microscope, along with a set of slides containing a variety of samples, from salt, over insect wings to plant-parts. He had to explain to her, what the 'strange thing' was and how it worked, but then her eyes shone even brighter than before.
Euphemia had gifted her a hand-crafted jewellery box, that played a hauntingly beautiful song called "Tacita's lament" when the lit was open. It was also stuffed with hidden compartments and without directions how to handle it. James would have fun to riddle them all out.
Nymphadora Tonks had sent her a bunch of different sweets (all made by Honeydukes at Hogsmead). Her many-times-removed cousin would've liked to get to know her aunt Narcissa, but her mother Andromeda was against any contact. So much, she didn't even approve that her daughter and James wrote each other then and now.
She was delighted to see a gift from Alastor Moody, along with a long letter about being careful and 'Constant Vigilance!' (As if those had not been among the first words in her vocabulary, by sheer force of repetition). The self-adjusting staff-holster was made of dragon-hide and quite excessively enchanted against summoning-spells and other ways of unsolicited removal. And, as James pointed out its most important feature, it looked really cool.
The Longbottoms had sent books, themed around proper magic, as they called it, and the virtues of the light. By the way his goddaughter grimaced at the pile, Severus didn't need to worry about her suddenly voicing wishes of moving to them.
Narcissa had gotten out of her way to get her outfitted for the term to come: Her first own book bag, the crest and motto of Sylvan and her name stitched on in silver threat on black dragon-hide. There was also a matching backpack, an engraved pencil case for half a dozen raven-feather quills and a small knife to sharpen them and a set of inks. James was especially taken with the emerald ink and the one that shimmered in all colours of the rainbow once it dried.
And a set of unbelievable fluffy, green and black pyjamas, the pants had little cauldrons and the top read, 'Potion mistress in the making'. Just as Narcissa had intended, Severus could not help but laugh seeing that, he had gotten a very similar set of sleepwear from her and his proclaimed 'Potion master'.
The book '77 spells for young magicals and 777 ways to use them', had been a surprise, since it had Remus Lupin as sender. It had come only with a short note,
Dear James,
I wish you a Blessed Yule.
I hope this helps your studies.
Love
Remus
Sufficed to say it confused the heck out of James and Severus.
Not a word from him for weeks but now a present? And such a thoughtful one, too, she loved it after she had flicked through it. Her godfather made a note to himself to write Remus, to find out what this was about. He did not want his goddaughter to develop abandonment issues because the adults in her life could not make up their minds.
The last gift was from Sirius, but he had asked Severus not to tell her.
It didn't sit well with the potion master. But there was so little he was able to do for the other man, for someone he had actually taken as a friend, he had reluctantly agreed in the end.
It was a training-snitch, it looked exactly like the real deal, but one could adjust how far away it flew and how fast it was.
And James was able to use it without flying, which was all Severus asked for at the moment. He still hoped, she would find another hobby than Quidditch. At least he tried to tell himself that, while she played. Her training with Jurriaan had honed her natural good reflexes, she had to set the snitch on 'high' for it to be a challenge.
After Draco had also been given ample time to show his new toys to his godfather as well, Narcissa hushed them all to a late breakfast. Boxing Day was one of the few days that she didn't demand proper manners and clothing during meals, and the children made the most of it. Her son somehow managed to talk about all the things he wanted to do, while gobbling down a load of delightfully fluffy pancakes dripping with blueberry jam. His friend munched on her scrambled eggs, roasted mushrooms and beacon, throwing in her own two knuts then and now.
After finishing, James rushed to her room to get dressed, as she would get another riding-lesson from Narcissa. Neither Draco nor Severus were really interested in going out, or even to change out of their sleepwear, they hurdled themselves up in the cosy reading den.
While she had to agree there existed worse ways to spend the day than cuddling into blankets and listening to Sev reading stories to them, she wanted to hang around her aunt.
"Tom?"
"Morning, dearest. How were your presents?"
"Amazing. In fact, I have a present for you!" She was a little giddy with excitement, hoping he would like, what she had thought of.
"… Excuse me?"
"You cannot read without me being there, looking at the book" she explained, "But Tasia has taught me how to make use of my mind palace. I can't really run around it, yet, but I am able to learn thinks and 'store' them."
Tom nodded, understanding, but confused anyway, "And?"
She just grinned at him, "You gift is on the desk - I'll go spent some time with Aunt Cissy."
"Have fun - And do as both a favour and don't fall of the Abraxans!"
Curious and intrigued he faded away again, wondering what his friend had done. Exerting his room, he stepped into the large hall, the centre of James' mind palace for now. It remained a little blurry around the edges, filled with not-quite-there details that were not intentional. Speckles of colour, sparks of important memories…
On one side was a big bookshelf, still empty, in front of it a secretaire, which was usually just as unused as the shelf. Today it had a small pile, on top a golden bow, only half-existing, but glittered nicely under the light and a note in James hand:
Blessed Yule, Tom
I hope you like the selection
Love
J.
Frowning he looked at what she had laid out for him: Books. And not any books either, A Journey to the Interior of the Earth and Treasure Island, stories he had told James were among his favourites. Flickering through them, he was amazed how clear and even the lettering was. She must've spent hours upon hours on this, it was not quite like memorising the text, but a process that took no less time and concentration. Usually an Occlumence would use the technique for non-fiction, to be able to recall all its contents. She had used it to make him a gift…
Tom smiled, not knowing how yet how to give her a fitting present in return and even happier with the certainty that James didn't expect anything back.
Truly content for the first time in a while, he went to his room and made himself comfortable, intent on letting Robert Lewis Stevenson take him on a journey to a legendary island.
o ~ O ~ o
Opal was a very good-natured Abraxan, easily following Narcissa's commands during lungeing, while James sat in the settle, doing her best to get her posture right.
"Just like that," her aunt praised her, "A little faster?"
"Sure!"
The girl had no idea how Narcissa had given Opal the command, but the animal fell into an easy trot, which both fun and shook her about.
"Move with the hoarse, dear!"
It was different from riding her toy broom, that fly steady and responded to her and not to Cissy, who hold the line. It was no less enjoyable.
"I missed you," James told Narcissa an hour later, when the two of them guided Opal to her box.
"Oh, sweet, I missed you too!" she crouched down to gave the girl a long hug, "Having you here is wonderful."
"But we will go again… - Can you and Draco not move to New Zealand with us?"
A second Narcissa pondered on the question, almost allowing herself to think it possible until reason chimed in.
"You know I love you as a daughter, don't you, James? I am very glad, you are happily living at Sylvan. But I have responsibilities here."
"Like keeping Dumbledore at bay?"
Narcissa smiled sadly, "Yes, among other things."
"Do you think… he could take me away?" James had not voiced this fear until now, not to her godfather or someone else aside from Tom.
"No!" She embraced her, her words fierce as a vow, "I promise you, that won't happen. You'll stay with him, and Dumbledore can do a handstand for all I care, because I will teach him to take his crooked nose out of our family business!"
James giggled at her choice of phrasing, hugging her back just as tightly, "Love you, Aunt Cissy."
"I love you, too, little one."
o ~ O ~ o
2 February 1987
Flat 11, Alisanus Gardens, Sylvan Academy
Steward Island, New Zealand
The start of the first term had somehow managed to take both Severus Snape and James Potter by surprise.
Maybe it was because they had gotten so used to their semi-secluded lifestyle during January. Despite preparing lessons and attending tutoring respectively, there was ample time to pursue various other interests.
The private lab was well in use and James knew more about potions than the average second-year at Hogwarts. Books (and comics) occupied the surfaces of the flat, inviting ribbing by friends - Severus actually started to consider Jurriaan, Charlotte and Sierra as such - how the place needed a 'sorting hand'. Both godfather and goddaughter unanimously decided not to understand what they were talking about and continue to enjoy the arranged chaos of their home.
The time to themselves had done them good. The Potioneer was becoming less jumpy and didn't expect an attack behind every unexpected movement or sound. James nightmares had started to settle slowly, both intensity and frequency finally lessening after three months.
But now, as Lord Thannor had put it simply during one of his sessions with Severus: Life was about to go on.
And the prospect of a new start was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.
In the morning before her first 'real' day, James had spent quite more time on getting ready and dressing herself. She was acutely aware, that, while not the youngest student ever at the Academy, most of the others were between the ages fifteen to thirty.
Tom did not possess an optimistic or encouraging of natures, but seeing her jittery with nerves did wonders for his motivation-skills.
"Your first lesson is Latin. Ilya likes you, you'll enjoy sharing a class with him as well," he reminded her, pondering if he should tell her, that she was buttoning up her tunic not straight. Again.
"Sure. Me and a bunch of people, who all attended Hogwarts or another school already. What could go wrong… Why is it looking lopsided?"
He signed, stepping to correct her mistake. After month of trying, he had finally gotten the trick of using magic again. At this point, it was very little, but turning the page of a book or opening and closing bottoms was in the realm of possibility.
"In Theory of Magic I, you'll have Ciel."
"Yeah, but she might not want to spend all her time in class with a child ten years younger than her…"
"And I will be right by your side," he interrupted, before her words could turn any gloomier, "The whole time."
James still looked slightly sick, but she smiled again, "Thanks, Tom."
"Always, dearest."
o ~ O ~ o
Meanwhile Severus was a tad nervous. He really didn't want to mess this chance up, for himself as much as for Corbillat. It was the first time he would be teaching at Sylvan and by now he was well aware, being a natural in a subject was not the same as being a good teacher. Potions had always come as easy to him as breathing, but he needed to keep in mind that wasn't true for everyone. Educating his goddaughter in a thing or two in the past months had actually improved his confidence in his teaching-abilities.
"How many coffees did you have already?" Jurriaan asked highly amused. Severus had never been a morning person, hence he was still half-asleep and only silently glaring at him. This didn't face the duellist at all. He and his children had dropped by because Faramond had insisted, he absolutely, vitally needed some odd trinket from James for his day at Spring School.
"It's his second," she answered for godfather, far too chipper for his tastes, "You can expect a conversation with him when he is half-way through his third."
"Cheeky girl," Severus murmured into his cup without any heat. That would required energy he didn't have.
James chuckled and gave Faramond the batch of comics he wanted to take to Show-and-tell-day, "Here you go."
"Thank you so much, Jim! This will be awesome!"
Jurriaan thanked the two as well for having them so early and issued an invitation for dinner. James would be at his place anyway, it was Van Kirk's turn to amuse the horde until closing time. Said horde had already gathered a new member: Riley, granddaughter of the legendary Newt Scamander and the Chief of Aurors of the MACUSA Porpentina Goldstein.
Similarly to Severus, her father had opted for an upbringing a little more removed from the public and took over Handling of magical creatures.
Upon hearing that the seven-year-old was completely disinterested in Quidditch, dangerous animals and other possible lethal pastimes, he had almost jumped at the chance to find James a more "girlish" friend for the lack of a better term. Something to balance out Faramond's and Leon's latent desire for adventures. And Neville's love for carnivorous plants. And Draco's special streak of mischief.
Inwardly he signed, knowing the deck was stacked against him with James' genetics alone, but he ought to try at least.
"You are looking like you have a headache," James wondered out loud, breaking his chain of thoughts, "What is it?"
Questioning if I do everything wrong raising you, he mused darkly.
"It's far too early…And since when does anyone call you Jim?"
James looked at him, part of her wondering just how he had survived the last ten years, as he was barely conscious between five and seven a.m.
"Faramond thinks it funny," she explained, suspecting that the concept of Star Trek would go over her godfather's head at the moment.
o ~ O ~ o
2 February 1987
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Scotland
Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore incessantly paced in his office, brooding over the future of Wizarding Great Britain. It was just quarter a year ago, that his former student and Dark Lord had fallen and a long war had ended. Nothing was as it should be.
While the general public was ecstatic, the ministry and its Aurors hunted down Death Eaters instead of allowing the land to heal.
Barty Crouch Senior's reputation had suffered with the arrest and conviction of his son, but it was common knowledge, how estranged they had become since the passing of their wife, respective mother. He was still Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and more vicious than ever against Tom's followers. His left and right hand, a grimly determinate Alastor Moody and a talented Amelia Bones, thirsting for revenge, made the whole situation worse. Barely a day went past without trials and sentencing and those were only the ones lucky enough to survive the merciless Aurors.
Fawkes thrilled from his perch, sending him the mental picture of a green-eyed little girl with a questioning tilt of his head.
"Do you miss her, my friend?" Albus smiled sadly. Things had not gone according to his plan. Roslyn was already famous beyond belief, heralded as a saviour, but she was also far out of his reach.
He still thought the law he wrote would be a great opening, maybe it was sufficient to just pressure Severus with the proposal of the bill…
Today was the start of term in Sylvan Academy and he hesitated to ponder what she might learn - far too early of course. The girl should enjoy her childhood, Hogwarts began soon enough.
There was another idea in his mind already, but he liked to think of it as a continence plan. It was a real possibility that the bill would not pass and also Severus found a way around it. He ought not to underestimate the young Potioneer again. Now Narcissa Malfoy undoubtedly dripped poison in his and little Roslyn's ears. The sooner he could resolve this mess, the better. But Sylvan Academy was well warded and protected, attempting something made laying siege on Hogwarts look easy.
Albus popped another lemon-drop in his mouth and mused about occasions that might present themselves in the near future. One had to be prepared after all…
o ~ O ~ o
Severus dropped James of for her classes, despite the fact she knew the campus very well already. But with the disinterest his own father had shown him, he felt like he needed to make sure his goddaughter knew how much he cared. She was utterly exited for her first "real" day of school, and once she spotted Ilya in one of the rows, the last of her nerves seemed to dispatch. She hugged him goodbye and Severus tried to reassure himself while he left for his own classroom. Soon enough she would turn seven, but it felt like yesterday that she had started to speak.
Jurriaan went to his office just as he came by, guessing correctly what his sombre face meant, "Raising kids is not for cowards."
"Indeed," he muttered darkly, making his colleague chuckle.
"Everything ready for your new students?"
The downright wicked smirk Severus shoot him, made him think better of the question, "I don't want to know!"
"Are you sure?" his smile only grew wider.
"Where is a crucifix when you need one!" he joked back, biting him goodbye until later, a wide grin on his face.
In his classroom were already some students waiting, eyes shining with excitement, materials on their desks. David came in while he wrote the basic rules and the semester-plan on the blackboard, "Good morning, Professor Snape!"
"Good morning, Mr. Jefferson," the boy had made it to a place on his rather prestigious white-list, with how well he had taught James the past months and how much she looked up to the young man. Once all his new students had arrived and were silently waiting, he turned around. Severus allowed himself a small smile and began, "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making…"
o ~ O ~ o
15 April
Lecture hall 1 - 23
Steward Island, New Zealand
"That's it for today," Professor Vasilev concluded his class, demonstratively closing his book, "You'll get the scores within the week. I hope to see you next term and enjoy your free time."
The tell-tale sound of several dozen knuckles rapping on cedar-desks was a lot more enthusiastic than normally, following one of the potentially mind-melting Math lessons. After seven plus years of magical education, in the worst case without even Arithmancy, facing Mathematic was a real challenge for most of them.
James closed her note-book with something similar to a relieved sight. She enjoyed the class, but despite the fact it was 'starting from the basics', Ilya's father had set quite the peace, making it one of her more demanding courses.
Packing her things, she realised it, she had just finished her first term at Sylvan Academy and well on top of that.
Most of the older students didn't pay her too much attention, accustomed to seeing children under twelve and younger in some courses and James was happy with it. The relative anonymity suited her just fine and there were enough friendly faces to keep her from becoming lonely.
It was different, compared to her life in England and different was good in her mind. And now, after more than six months since she had lost her parents, she believed, things could work…
"Ms Potter?"
She flinched, having being so deep in her own musings, she was the last student in the hall. Isaac Vasilev looked at her over his gold-rimmed glasses, "It seems big thoughts are going through that young head of yours."
"Nothing worse than the multiplication table," she answered with a smile of her own. She liked him, he was a calm and patient teacher, a fable for useless trivia his most noticeable quirk (Along the lines of "No number between zero and nine hundred ninety-nine contained an 'a'".).
"Is that so? 17 times 13?"
"156," she replied instantly.
The small joys of Occlumency, she mused, learnt once, remembered forever. Not worth having my brain cracked open weekly just for this, but still nice. The downside was, of course, all trivia stuck in her mind palace as well…
"Very good," her teacher praised, smiling at her, making the scar on the right side of his face crinkle slightly, "Have an enjoyable break."
"Thank you, Sir."
She strolled to the library, knowing her godfather would need at least an hour to wrap up his last class, hence there was no reason to rush home.
The librarian was a Spinster of rather benign disposition. Although rumours told, some student had ended up with their uniforms sewn to the ceiling (while they were still wearing them) for mishandling a rare first-edition. James would believe that true in a heartbeat, because she knew the love Madam Salticidae had for books and… well, from a purely practical standpoint, it was entirely doable for her.
Spinsters were highly intelligent, humanoid sapience with skin varying between shades of green and blue, sharp features, long, thin bodies and limbs and three pair of arms. Also, they could to tricks that would've made Spider-man envious. Some legend described them as the descendant of Arachne, the weaver, who had bested a goddess in her craft.
Although, she seemed too… correct, in her finely tailored, Victorian dresses, for swinging around and stuff. James had decided, it would be even cooler if the librarian had done precisely that, still looking all prim and proper.
"Good day," she greeted her politely, sliding her books on the counter. But mostly she watched her work, the level of multitasking never got old. Madam Salticidae smiled slightly, tipping away on her typewriter, while sorting James' return with another pair of arms. She was also knitting something, what looked like it would become a cosy jumper in the near future, "Jim, how was the last day of term?"
Almost everyone in the Academy called her 'Jim' by now, even Lord Thannor had slipped once. She loved the nickname Faramond had bestowed on her and Severus had no reason to protest, so there it was.
"Delightfully uneventful. Dad wanted me to pick up some books for him? I have a list…" She trailed off, in the middle of rummaging through her bag, realising just what she had said. Violently she shrugged it off, "Here, Ma'am."
She gave her the piece of parchment over the counter, proud how little her hands shock.
The librarian was kind enough to mention neither her slip of tongue, nor her obvious distress it, regardless her face went softer, but James didn't see that.
"They are ready," she simply said, "As is your book on Elemental Magic. And I found an old diary, containing detailed descriptions of Stormravens and their habits."
"Thank you very much," James replied earnestly, having pulled herself together again.
"… Can you carry all that?"
"Nah," She answered with a cheeky grin, taking hold of her staff and made the sizable stack float beside her.
"No lightning in the halls," she was told, mock-sternly and she left the library in almost as good mood as when she had entered.
As expected, Severus was not yet home, but as he would be there shortly, she did not need a "babysitter". In the post-box waited a letter sent by her grandmother.
Since she was banned from using the stove without adult supervision, she grabbed pomegranate-cherry-juice out of the freezing cabinet, sipping it while reading.
Euphemia Potter's health was deteriorating, James had known that for months, but it was the first occasion it showed in her writing. The script was still elegant, but there were some inkblots and she could tell, when her grandmother's hands had trembled.
Ceely, who delivered a letter or small gifts then and now, had not needed masterful persuasion to spill how sick her mistress was. Her healer did not give her at all much time. Either Euphemia was in denial herself or she didn't care to burden her granddaughter with the truth, but the facts were there…
I don't want another funeral.
Cursing under her breath, she stood up and wrote a quick note for her godfather.
At the training-area. Will be back at six tops.
Hope you had a good day,
Love
J
James had started a while ago to make her signature J like a little crow-track, which also made it look similar to the Algiz rune.
With her staff she left the apartment.
As per usual, her favourite spot was vacant, Jurriaan Van Kirk had currently only three students learning how to wield a staff, her including. It was just how she liked it.
She took a deep breath and started the first exercise.
o ~ O ~ o
Three hours later (precisely four minutes to six), she unlocked the door with slightly trembling hands. Again, she had overdone it. But she still felt better than before. Regardless, Severus would not be happy.
"I am home," she said just load enough for her godfather to hear, planning to sneak to the bathroom -
"How about I take care of your hands first?" asked a familiar voice, fond exasperation audible to her.
"Thank you," she murmured with a rueful smile as he picks her up and sits her on the kitchen counter to look her over.
It was not that bad, she mused, only visibly sore, not bleeding. The small, tree-like scar on the back of her hand, from a lightning spell gone wrong in February still appeared more vivid. James was wise enough not to voice her chain of thought.
"Just what am I going to do with you?" Severus signed and pressed a kiss against her temple before he summoned the first-aid-kit.
Gently he spread healing salve over her irritated skin, "What was it this time?"
"Why were you so upset?" Was his actual question and she can't even think about playing dump or brush it off, because it's him.
"Grandma is getting worse…" and then, so low Severus can barely make it out, "and Icalledyou'dad'infrontofMadamSalticidae."
"Be a dear, Corbillat, and speak up for your ageing godfather," he teased her, more than a little worried when she did not even crack a smile.
"I… called you 'dad' in front of Madam Salticidae," the girl repeated, very interested in the tips of her dragon-hide boots.
Severus knew he should reassure her immediately, but was out of his depth about the how. He busied himself with wrapping his goddaughter's hands (and just how small they are compared to his), thinking furiously, what to say. A rather selfish part of him was quite happy, even ecstatic at her words, how could he not be? She was the only child he would ever imagine of wanting. His little Corbillat was not to know that, she was obviously distraught by her slip of tongue, hence just swapping it aside was another option out of the window...
He tied up the dressing and opted for embracing her. She buried her face against his robe, like she had always done, even as a baby. He idly wondered if her affinity for potions simply stemmed from the constant exposure to the smells of all matter of ingredients.
After a few minutes James was a lot happier with herself and the world and bubbled away about her day and what to do during the break until next term.
Severus just smiled and listened.
Half an hour later Faramond came, asking if they wanted to come over for dinner and if Jim to see a movie afterwards.
That sounded rather agreeable, especially the food part.
The two grabbed their usual little gift for going to the Van Kirks, Severus a bottle of wine to share with Jurriaan and Charlotte, James a pack of sweets to share with Faramond and Isa. The gesture was meet, per norm, so enthusiastic, it embarrass the both of them.
"Were do you get all the good stuff?" the host asked awed and was only answered with a line about, how to think nothing of it.
It was not like Severus had a stash of wine to choose from when he got an invitation, because of his lower than average cooking still he could not return the favour without potentially poisoning someone. Not at all.
"Where is your sister?" the Potioneer inquired, trying to change the subject.
"Out with her boyfriend," Jurriaan answered, "Why? Can you only be over when she is chaperoning?"
He was teasing, but he also asked a rather important question.
James watched fascinated as her godfather blushed. That was new, she had seen his face go red from furious anger on one memorable occasion, but this? She understood, both man had said more than what had been spoken, but the meaning completely eluded her.
"No, it's… quite agreeable," Sev replied a moment later and she desperately wanted to know why Jurriaan looked so pleased about such a simple answer.
Faramond and Isa caught her attention, discussing which movie to watch and she forgot that line of thought.
After dinner (homemade pizza and a chocolate cake, since end of term always warranted a little celebrating in Jurriaan's eyes) the kids build their pillow fort. They cuddled inside of it, in a mass of blankets, facing the telly and four bowls of different sweets on the floor in front of them. Severus reasoned that once in a while the sugar intake would not harm his goddaughter and with all the training she had, her magic burned through the calories faster than her body ever could.
The children watched some cartoon movie, since Isa was too small yet to be allowed Star Trek and cuddled between her brother and friend, the little girl seemed really content, even during the slightly scarier parts.
"James trained too much again?" Jurriaan asked softly. The adults were sitting at the other end of the living room, by the fireplace, finishing the rest of the wine.
Severus paused before answering, half-heartedly thinking, of course, James' favourite teacher was the duellist with the vampire-ancestry, which had only added to the problem.
Jurriaan merely grinned, getting the vibe of the other's thoughts and not faulting him for it. He liked the snarky Potioneer and the little spitfire also known as his goddaughter that Faramond had so casually befriended.
"Three hours after her last class," he finally answered, "at least she stopped before making her skin bleed again…"
"You seem resigned," Jurriaan more stated then asked, "Something the matter?" When he had started to train her, he had gotten quite a few dark looks from the younger man. It didn't speak in the favour of his self-preservation at all, that he missed the thrill of it, just a little. Seeing him dote on James might lead on to think his bark was worse than his bite, but the duellist was very aware of the other man's… skills. And it wasn't even obvious, more like a venomous snake, slithering through tall grass at dusk.
He was brought out of his thoughts by Severus casting a privacy charm before he answered, "Yes! - A maniac with delusions of grandeur is not as dead as he should be! And I cannot gift my goddaughter a normal childhood because of him!"
Jurriaan blinked at the outburst, strangely touched, how the other felt comfortable enough to let him know just how badly it bothered him.
"I would like nothing better than forbid her from training with you, no matter how much she loves it! But every time it comes up, I can only think about, how one of the things you teach her might save her life one day! Damned!"
Jurriaan locked at him for a long moment, and then simply said, "Wow."
"… Very eloquent, consider me impressed."
The older man chuckled at the sarcasm, it had lost a lot of its bite these past months, "You are angry. That's good."
Severus was speechless, he had to mark the day on his calendar. Later, "I take it as a sign, you are getting better," he choose her words carefully, not wanting his friend to dismiss them outright, "It's not wrong to be sad or angry about what happened. You both survived a war, creator's sake! If I had been in your place, I would constantly have nervous breakdowns."
Severus mulled over the point for a few silent moments, staring at the rest of wine in his glass, "Maybe," he finally admitted.
"She is a content child," Jurriaan said, not quite sure if his piece of mind was welcome, but felt he had to anyway, "She has you. Children bounce back from a lot, just look at Faramond and Isa."
The surprise on Severus' face reminded him sharply, this subject had never come up between them. And one thing he really liked about him was, he might assume sometimes, he did so silently and without taking it as the truth.
"They are the kids of my older sister Eloise. She remarried a while back and her new guy…" he frowned at the phrasing, as if he had a lot more colourful words to describe the man, but refrained from it, "Anyway. He didn't want the two around, so… I took the two in. Still not sure, if I am the right person to raise them, but…"
"You do amazing," the younger man told him with so much certainty, Jurriaan looked at him in surprise, "They are both happy, curious, self-confident children and well cared for. Believe me, when I say, there are few things worse than growing up knowing you are resented in your own home."
"Severus?" Why do you sound like you are speaking out of experience?
"I am not nearly drunken enough to talk about it," he answered with a sad smile. I might tell you someday, once I know you better.
Jurriaan return the smile, wanting to somehow reassure the other man, but holding himself back from a casual a touch against his arm or shoulder. That would probably be too much just yet, "Sadly the wine is out. - I could go for a coffee now, what about you?" I can be patient.
"Coffee is the best idea you had all evening."
"Oi, I feed you and James!"
"Yes, with pizza. By the glow in her eyes it's her new favourite food!"
"You can't raise a child on fruit, juice, grilled cheese-sandwiches and tomato-soup, Severus."
"Watch me."
o ~ O ~ o
Morning
16 April
Flat 11, Alisanus Gardens, Sylvan Academy
Steward Island, New Zealand
James had woken up in her bed, her godfather had carried her home the night before, after all three children had fallen asleep in the middle of their movie.
Currently she said on her favourite place in the kitchen, sipping on her hot chocolate, while Severus silently (sleepily) drank his coffee. But he was not so much out of it, he would miss his goddaughter's restless fiddling.
"What is wrong, Corbillat?" he enquired gently.
In hindsight, she mused, she could've formulated it a little differently than simply blurring out, "Can I stay with grandma?"
That was certainly made clear by the way Severus chocked on his next sip of coffee. After getting his bearings back together he locked as if she had backhanded him. If she had not already rushed over to hug him, at latest she would've done it then, "No! Sev, I don't mean forever! I want to live with you!"
"Do not scare me like that while I drink hot beverages," he grumbled only half-joking, but trying to not make her feel bad about it.
Severus sat her down at the kitchen table again, which doubled as both a dining table and round table in their apartment.
"Now please tell me, what you did mean, Corbillat."
"Grandma is… - Well, the term is over, I did well and have free time at hand. I would like to spend some with her." She took a sip and didn't say, 'As long as I still can spend time with her', but Severus understood anyway.
"I will talk with her and we need to organise this, but if it is what you want…" His words hung in the air between them.
He was not at all sure if it was a good idea or if it could… harm her.
"She is the last close relative I have, Sev. Kendrick and Company does not really count and Petunia isn't in the picture either."
"Corbillat… I am just not convinced it... wouldn't hurt you."
"We could ask Ms Nagi," she proposed knowing he had a point, "Listen what she thinks."
As it turned out the mindhealer was not completely against the idea, as James would still come over and see her once a week. But she extracted the promise from the girl to tell the minute it got too much for her.
"You don't have to do this even if you feel obligated. She is your grandmother, but we need to think of you."
Tasia Nagi watched the girl mulling about what she said. Working with her was a joy and heavy duty at the same time. The first two meetings James had spoken a whole if five sentences, but only if one counted the inevitable Hellos and passing words. She still wondered why the kid had chosen her over colleagues.
"I could not say goodbye to my parents," the girl finally said, "I want this for me, just as I want it for my grandma."
"I see… what would you say to your mom and dad? If you had the chance?"
They had made some progress, but not on that particular front. The mindhealer was sharply reminded as James' green eyes turned cold at the question. The girl did not like it at all when the topic of the last Samain night came up. Tasia had told her in the very beginning, she was not there to coddle her, their talks would sometimes be dirty and woefully unpleasant.
Her patient was still not happy with it.
James was stubbornly silent and her healer didn't speak either.
"Run?" the six-year-old finally proposed half-heartedly. Judging by Ms Nagi's unimpressed stare, she needed to try better.
"I don't know," she confessed after a while, "I did not… think... my parents might actually die. Some days I go home and I expect mom to greet me. Seeing Sev bickering in the kitchen with my dad and Sirius would not at all surprise me… But... they are… gone."
And didn't the truth hurt? She could never see mum and dad again or speak to them. No more lullabies sung by her mother, no playing with her father...
Tasia gave her - as usual - a little homework, something she was to think about, a list of certain things. She was to write a letter to her parents, not entirely unlike the one she had sent Sirius. James had not gotten an answer and at this point, she didn't expect one. She still wrote him roughly every fortnight and would keep doing it until the end of days. Until it went through his thick skull, that she still loved him.
She did not flee from the room when her fifty minutes were up, she… left with purpose. Said purpose was getting outside as fast as possible. She was past the door in record time.
James took a deep breath, feeling the crisp, clean air fill her lungs. To her, it was more soothing, than a splash of ice-cold water
"What was really on your mind?" Tom asked softly from his spot beside her. He was not truly there, not in a physical sense, still the wind ruffled his hair.
"…Do not die for me," She told him darkly, the words hurt like shards of glass in her throat, "I don't know why I thought that…"
Tom looked at his friend with a pained expression. He had no memory of his own parents, but he still sensed a void where they were supposed to be.
James had loved her mom and dad, he could not even start to try and imagine how she felt. And she didn't remember, what happened, how her mum and dad had died, something she was both glad and guilty about.
She had not said it, but it was another reason, she wanted to get to know her grandmother. That and she was done with V-Vol -
"To hell!" James groaned load, tearing at her hair, "We'll revere to you-know-who as damn bastard from now on!"
Tom looked bemused by the change of topic, but only grinned, "And why will we do so, dearest?"
"Because fuck him! I hate his stupid made up name! I hate that to-many-hyphen-name dripping with fear! And I'll never call him 'Lord' again!"
Her friend listened intently to her rant and understood exactly what she meant. Like she had said, "Let it die with him".
That was why he nodded, smirking, "Damn Bastard it is. - Why are we discussing him?"
"Because he was the reason I never really get to know my grandparents, all four of them. It was too dangerous to move around a lot and after the damn bastard got a foot into the ministry even travelling by floo was unsafe. Mom's parents and my grandfather are already dead, I want at least to get to know grandma."
"If my opinion counts: It is a good idea. In all likelihood it will get rough, too, but… it's a chance you should take."
"Thank you, Tom."
"Always, dearest," he replied with a soft, genuine smile.
o ~ O ~ o
22 April 1987
Proudspire Manor
Ashwell, Rutland, East Midlands, England, Great Britain
James woke up before Ceely came to wake her, just as it was her habit. Planning her visit had taken some time, but Euphemia had been truly ecstatic by the prospect to have her granddaughter around. Severus had dropped her off three days ago, with more stuff she could possibly need in months. Dowager Lady Potter had greeted them as any good hostess would, tea and excellent biscuits waiting for her guests.
James was glad, how well her godfather and her grandmother got along. To her delight he had almost blushed, when Euphemia had seriously and earnestly complimented his choice of new workplace and how good he cared for "my darling granddaughter". It was nice that someone did not question Sev constantly, she found, contrary to certain other parties.
She lay in bad for a while longer, enjoying the warmth and soft sheets before starting the day. Showering, dressing, nothing special.
The little cottage the widowed Euphemia had bought after Fleamont Potter had died was rather cosy (and thankfully not as big as Malfoy Manor, through it was by no means a "little cottage"!). James had easily settled - and wasn't that heartbreaking? She had an actual room for herself, in a home, she had never lived in? - into the routine of the house.
Eric Grey, Euphemia's family healer, would come to see his patient around nine, by then her granddaughter had eaten her breakfast and after the visit she spend time with her grandmother. The regal woman was no longer able to leave her bed, but was always impeccably dressed, smelling freshly, sitting against a mass of cushions and happily smiling upon seeing her grandchild. The bed was gigantic and James was allowed to sit on the coverlet, listening to Euphemia's soft voice as she spoke, or quietly reading when her grandmother dose off from the painkillers then and now.
She was just rinsing her dishes as Healer Grey gave Ceely new instructions for care and food. She liked the man with salt-and-pepper-hair and the kind eyes. Severus and Narcissa had thoroughly glared at him upon first meeting, wordlessly conveying the unspeakable things they could do to him, should harm come to James in his general vicinity. Mother-hens the both of them! She had learnt the term recently, and while she would never say it out load, in the privacy of her mind, she found it accurate.
"She really loves to have you around," Healer Grey told her softly, before he went to leave, "You do her a world of good."
"Grandma is going to die soon, isn't she," It was more a statement than a question. James knew she only imagined it, but she could feel the last bits of sand falling down the hourglass when she held her grandmother's hand.
The man grimaced at her words, clearly unsure how to discuss such a loaded topic with a young child, "She had a long and full-filling life, Lady Potter."
"I see," she nodded, understanding what he didn't said.
"Do you… have someone to talk? About everything going on?"
"Yes, I will be fine," James assured him.
She would floo over to Sylvan on Thursday, for her weekly meeting and lesson with Tasia Nagi. And Severus and Narcissa visited alternately every other day to make sure she was all right and had everything she needed. Which she had.
Euphemia truly spoiled her, telling her stories, showed her old pictures, and told her about the history of their family… She could hardly wait to hear more of the Hakims and her great-grandmother!
o ~ O ~ o
Euphemia told her some more stories that day - James was particularly fond of the legends of Merlin and King Arthur - and something she had assumed, she already knew.
"The tale of the four brothers is ancient -"
"I thought there were three brothers," her granddaughter interrupted too surprised to mind her manners, "Is that about the ones who tried to cheat death?"
"The very same. You, Amira, you are a descendant of Ignotus, the youngest of them. When his only grandchild, Iolanthe, married into the Potter-family, she brought all heirlooms with her and, of course, the chronics of the Peverells. It differs from what survived as a mere tale for the riffraff."
By that point James was completely entranced, handing on Euphemia's every word, "Please, tell me!"
"But of course, my sweet girl."
o ~ O ~ o
21 June 1228
The woods surrounding Brindisi
Italy
"Have you finally finished the runes?"
"Don't be such a pain in the neck, Antioch!"
He bristled indigently upon Virgil's flippant words, looking at the others for aid, but Cadmus was hiding his smirk behind his hand and Ignotus was busy with getting the wards aliened correctly.
"Have a little respect!"
"I would, had Lady Slytherin not thrown you out of the rune lessons!" Now even the youngest was grinning.
"Not each of us can be a genius!" Antioch gave back hotly. At twenty-seven he was the oldest of them, albeit Cadmus was only a year younger. Next in age was Virgil at age twenty and then Ignotus, who had just finished schooling during his seventeenth summer.
The older three were not at all comfortable with the youngest joining their little band of sell-wands, but what else was there? Lord and Lady Peverell had died when Ignotus was barely two winters, Hogwarts had been a saving grace then. But afterwards, they needed to find something earn their own living.
Ten years ago Antioch had started this line of work, very aware, his magic was suited for fighting and than he had no mind of a scholar. He killed kelps, acromantulas and other creatures for money. Cadmus had joined him, following the death of his dear Tacita, due to Dragon-pox, the loss had ruined the whole village of Hogsmead for him.
Virgil had wanted to travel after Hogwarts and decided, keeping his brothers alive at same time was a worthy cause. Then they had started to leave the Scotland and England and explored Europe, working for whoever would pay the most.
All this brought them to their current employment: Emperor Frederick II. He had secured many wands for his crusade. He had postponed his endeavour so times the pope had decided to excommunicate him (which meant nothing to the wizards, but was apparently a big deal for the Muggles). Not that any of the Peverell-brothers cared for politics of any kind. The pay was good and the opportunity to see Jerusalem had been too much of a temptation for both Virgil and Ignotus.
In a week's time they would leave, but the journey promised to be dangerous, the Peverell's needed a little more than just wands to face the East.
"Done," Virgil announced after he had drawn the last rune, cleaning his hands of the blood he had used for his task. The bloodmage had created seven rows of magical charged symbols, both for summoning and their protection.
"Does it mean we can get rid of that?" Cadmus mentioned to the pile of bloodless bodies not too far away. He was a little creped out by the mass of crows and ravens it attracted.
"Later. I don't want the smoke, or residual magic to interfere with the ritual," he smirked, "One can never be too careful when summoning a Divine."
Ignotus nodded, also ready, "The wards will hold. Lady Helga Hufflepuff herself created them."
Antioch mustered the cycle grimly, not all enthusiastic about the plan, but knew it was a quite necessary evil, "So it begins."
The ritual was not as complicated as one would expect, the preparations had been the most time-consuming and tricky part. Now it was a matter of channelling magic into the elaborated piece of craftsmanship.
It started slowly, smoke began to gather within the cycle. Clever the Peverells might be, but none of them had a clue, just what they were dabbling in.
As the shadowy being was visible, a hooded creature, not dissimilar to a Dementor, holding a dangerously gleaming sync, the four assumed it was a success.
But the ritual had merely raised Deaths curiosity with their magic. They had taken a form, the brothers expected and was by no means 'bound'. Virgil did not know that when he stepped forward, arrogant enough to think his bloodmagic had enslaved the embodiment of one of nature's laws, "We, who have summoned you, Divine, demand your service!"
Death almost laughed at the mortals' stupidity - naivety. This hubris had to be punished and they would choose their downfall.
"Speak, mortals."
Bold Antioch was the first, demanding a wand powerful beyond any other.
"It will win any duel for its master," Death said, handing the prized item over.
A wand of elder wood, a core of Thestral heart string.
"I…" Cadmus wavered for a moment before he spoke, his thoughts far from the battle-field, "I wish for a way to bring back the deceased."
His mind was open to the Divine, proclaiming his love for the long gone Tacita and all the memories he had of her. Deciding on a fitting bane, Death took a small obsidian and gave it to the second brother, "Turn it four times, the dead will answer."
Ignotus had watched wearily how the other two received their prices, thinking he needed something else, "I wish for a way to hide from everyone, even you."
After a moment the Divine wove a fabric of air and shadows, the cloak of invisibility, and handed it to the youngest brother.
"Now you," Death looked at Virgil, whose eyes shone green with magic.
"I wish to go everywhere at will, even to the afterlife and to return."
At this point, the Divine had only planned to punish the arrogant little mortal like the other, but the sheer insolence of his demand woke anger older than life on earth.
They summoned a golden coin, one which had weighted down the eyelids of a witch that had been buried ages ago, holding it out for Virgil to take. The metal felt strangely cold and the Divine's skeletal hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him forward.
"I curse you with lengthy lives," Death said softly, "To see all you cherish die in time. Until your last day you shall be able to see beyond the Veil, but no further." After those fore-bonding words, the Divine… dispatched. And Virgil tried to shake of the lingering feeling of dread, holding onto his coin that would not warm however long he touched it.
The brothers were quite happy with the boons anyway. They destroyed all evidence of their doing and went back for the army's camp.
Almost immediately upon his return, Antioch sought out a wizard he had duelled a few days ago. This time, the other man did not survive and the oldest Peverell boasted about his new wand and his invincibility, something none of his brothers thought wise. But then, intelligence had never been his strong suit.
Cadmus retreated to his own tent and summoned Tacita. She was not a ghost, not a true living being either, but he was just too happy to see her again to worry about it.
The next day, Virgil discovered his eldest brother cold on his bed, his throat slit and his Elderwand gone. And could not help but wonder, if that was the doing of Death's curse on him.
Over the week all worked hard to organise the departure, but Cadmus went paler and thinner.
The day before they were to leave, Ignotus found him dead in the forest. He had hung himself. The longing to truly be with Tacita again, had prove to be too much.
Stricken with grieve, Ignotus decided to go back to Hogsmead, where Antioch's wife and their son and Cadmus' daughter still resided. He was sure he could find something useful to do.
Virgil elected to travel, since he now had the means to do just that. They parted and never saw each other again.
Ignotus Peverell returned to his home and after many years of a fulfilled live he gave his son his cloak of invisibility. When Death finally came for him, he greeted him as an old friend.
o ~ O ~ o
James had listened intently, fascinated with the tale, "What became of Virgil Peverell?"
"The chronic does not speak of him any further. Maybe he travelled and stayed somewhere he felt at home, had a family, until Death claimed him."
"...Or he just didn't want to watch his loved ones die," her granddaughter mused out load, feeling cold at the mere thought. What a horrible curse.
Euphemia frowned slightly. She had been raised learning the "Old Way", as it was called on the British Isles, and the tale spoke of a punishment well deserved and not to play with things one did not understand. But of course, her compassionate and orphaned granddaughter had a very different point of view.
"But maybe he found his luck elsewhere," she said gently, "And knew to consider the consequences of his doing."
James nodded, not at all agreeing, but didn't want to argue either.
"I like the idea… Aunt Cissy told me about the Divines. She thinks, I need to learn the 'Old Path'. Because it's tradition."
Her grandmother approved highly that a witch - from her family no less, the daughter of cousin Cygnus - had started to educate her properly. Euphemia was very aware, she would not see her granddaughter growing up, but knowing she was raised with love and care by Severus Snape and Narcissa Malfoy would allow her to rest in peace. Until then, she wanted to teach her as much as she was able to.
What followed was another lecture disguised as story-time: The large family tree of the noble and ancient house of Potter. While James had inherited the chronics, dead pages could only do so much to breath live into her ancestors. There was to speak about, and tireless she answered her granddaughter's numerous questions.
She started with Linfred of Stinchcombe, a brilliant Potioneer (that little fact pleased his descendent to no end), who's son married Iolanthe Peverell, Ignotus Peverell's granddaughter.
In later years Leonida Gryffindor bonded to Henry Potter, by then the 'Potters' were already a very wealthy family and had been granted a seat at the Wizengamot.
Lady Henrietta Potter, head of house in the 14th century had forbidden current and future generations to marry inside the family, while all of Great Britain's Purebloods started to wed their cousins. That, Euphemia explained, was why the wizarding community was not to put out with James' and Lily's marriage. The other family's accepted the traditions and the Potters enjoyed more leeway, since all the members were regarded as a "little eccentric".
Ralston Potter had been a strong advocate to install the Statue of Secrecy at the end of the 17th century and by then that was already common knowledge. The Potters would get things done, even without playing by the rules all the time.
It was long after lunch when Euphemia started speaking about 'her' families. She was the daughter of Aries Black and Rana Hakim, who came from Tel Aviv, the oldest child of a clan famous for both their healers and battle-mages.
o ~ O ~ o
The days went by pleasantly, although Euphemia's need for sleep grew each day.
Ceely tried to entertain James as best as she could. When she started to miss the potion-lessons with her godfather, she asked the houseelf to teach her cooking. Ceely was all too happy to have company in the kitchen, showing her how to cut vegetables and meat correctly, to tell herbs and spices apart by taste and smell. All in all it was very useful since Severus attempts at cocking were… mostly that. Attempts. A little more variety besides tomato-soup and grilled cheese-sandwiches could only be a good thing.
"You really made this?" Euphemia asked delighted upon trying the semolina pudding. It was delicious.
"I just helped," she said modestly, but Ceely had none of it.
"Little Lady James is so careful and conscientious in the kitchens! Ceely fears she will cook better than Ceely in no time!"
That made the girl smile, "Thank you very much. You are a great teacher."
The elf beamed so widely, the corners of her mouth almost reached her ears, "Ceely is very welcome and very pleased to have little Lady James with us!"
James joined her grandmother for breakfast, mostly nibbling on her toast. She had already been at Sylvan, for her weekly talk with Healer Nagi and was still mulling over some things they had spoken about.
"A Lady, who can cook, now I have seen everything," Euphemia mused smiling.
Her granddaughter frowned at the title, something which did not go unnoticed.
"You are a Lady now. You are too young now to fully understand, but it is important that you act like it."
She lowly chuckled when she saw the girl grimace again. James had heard quite some lectures from Narcissa and Alice already regarding 'ladyship businesses. How she should walk, speak…
"Nothing of that," Euphemia smoothed her, guessing her thoughts, "There is more to being a Lady than the proper way to drink your tea. It means responsibility, how you act, what you do carries far. And you need to learn, to be prepared and how I regret, I will not be present to see the woman you shall become…"
"A scarred one," James joked weakly, tearing up at the thought of her grandmother passing.
"You look like my Fleamont," Euphemia said gently, "His nose, his cheekbones. I see him in the shine of your eyes. And I can see my mother as well. You have her colouring, her bearing. Your great-grandmother was a proud, brave woman and I do not doubt you will be just as stunning, Amira."
The old Lady was silent for a long moment, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.
She looked at her granddaughter, the last direct descent of the Potter-family. A little girl with her late father's name and eyes like the curse that had killed her parents. The very idea of heaving yet another burden on these small shoulders made her feel sick.
But if she wanted this child to truly thrive, James needed to know the truth.