A/N: Fun fact: my favourite Alan Rickman film is Snow Cake 3 If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend. It's available for freeeeee online if you look hard enough ;) Plus it features a young Stevie from Schitt's Creek!
Hogsmeade Station was bustling with chaos as students pushed their way on to the gleaming red steam engine, trying to secure the best compartments with their friends.
Asha stood against the back wall of the station, trying her best not to think of tiny cold hands and the panicked wailing of a devastated mother. Her fingers had turned white and numb from the force at which she was clutching the handle of her trunk. She'd known this moment would come. The moment in which she'd have to board the train and return to the East Sussex Adolescent Group Foster Home. For a whole year Asha had been trying desperately to forget the events that had transpired last summer. But she knew that returning to the Home would send it all flooding back.
The last couple of months of the term had gone surprisingly smoothly since her supposed breakdown. Snape had given her a sleeping potion that knocked her out for a couple of days. She had woken up feeling like she'd been reset. Without such severe exhaustion, everything became much more manageable. That was until the end of term started approaching and anxiety about returning home had begun building.
The station platform was a lot clearer now. Hagrid was patrolling around telling the final groups of stragglers to hurry up and board; the train would be leaving in a few minutes. Asha's hands were clammy and she could feel her heartbeat in her teeth. She willed herself to get on a carriage but her feet wouldn't move. There were now only a handful of students left who had not yet boarded and Hagrid was moving towards her end of the platform. In a split-second decision, she whipped out her wand and cast a disillusionment charm. A sense of relief washed over Asha as she watched her body melt into the wall behind her. A steam whistle sounded and the train heaved forward as Hagrid helped a final student pull his truck through the carriage doors.
The loud rumbling and chugging of the Hogwarts Express eventually died away, leaving the empty station eerily quiet. Hagrid returned to the Thestrals drawn carriages and began herding them back around the lake, towards the castle. Once he was out of sight Asha lifted the disillusionment charm and faced her predicament. What the hell had she just done. Why couldn't she just suck it up and get on the train. What the fuck was she thinking: she would just live on the streets of Hogsmeade for six weeks?! Once again, Asha felt as if her very existence had become exhausting. Despite the fact her new plan of attack was apparently to live like a vagabond on the streets of Hogsmeade for six weeks, she couldn't help feeling intensely relieved that, at least for now, she wouldn't have to return to the Home.
Asha decided that since everyone from Hogwarts had gone home, it would be safe to hunker down at the Three Broomsticks for the time being. The inn wasn't too crowded since it was only 11 am. She tried her luck and asked for a glass of Firewhisky but the barwoman only responded with a disapproving scowl, so Asha ordered two Butterbeers instead. With her trunk in one hand and wand in the other, she instinctively levitated the drinks over to a back table before suddenly realising she shouldn't be using magic.
The butterbeer warmed Asha's insides and calmed her down. She stubbornly decided not to worry about what she would do when eventually it started getting dark, and instead spent the next couple hours sipping Butterbeer and browsing through a copy of the Daily Prophet someone had left lying on the table. She had just spotted a small column highlighting the success of Britain's Charles Weasley in becoming a registered drogonologist at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary when a scuffling sound began to pull at Asha's attention. For a moment she tried to dismiss the sound, just as she was ignoring all the other noises of the inn. But seconds later she realised she knew that shuffling sound all too well and, before she could think better of it, she whipped her head up and watched as a hunched figure cradling a scrawny black cat moved over to the bar, his eyes lazily scanning the room. Before Asha had time to react, their eyes locked. Oh shit.
"Well, well. What do have here then, aye? A student who missed the train home?" Argus Filch's eyes twinkled maliciously. "I've been telling Dumbledore for years that that big oaf doesn't keep a close enough eye on you nasty brats! You better follow me, girl. Oh, Flitwick won't be happy when he realises he's going to have to organise your trip home, oh, no, no, no."
To Asha's confusion, instead of leading her on the long trek back around the Black Lake, Filch shuffled his way up the street towards Honeydukes.
"Why are we-" Asha began.
"Oh, you'll see. You students think you know everything. Think you can hide your Belch Pellets and Dung Bombs where I won't find them. Hah! Well, I'll tell you I know that castle better than anyone. Been here over 25 years and there ain't so much as a loose brick I ain't found." Filtch entered the sweet shop and proceeded down into the cellar, Asha dragging her trunk in his wake. Concealed behind a stack of barrels was a small but heavy wooden door. Filch hauled it open, Mrs Noris still tucked protectively under one arm, and picked up a lit lantern from just inside.
"In you go my dear," Filch said with a strange air of pride. Asha gave him a calculating look. He still looked ecstatic to have caught a student redhanded. She shrugged and entered the small dark tunnel. She walked through the passage, listening to the caretaker's raspy breath following close behind her. After about a hundred meters Asha slowed to approach what seemed to be the end of the tunnel. Suddenly there was the sound of rumbling and scraping rock. A crack of light grew into an opening that was just large enough for Asha to squeeze herself and her trunk through.
"What?" Asha exclaimed under her breath. To her amazement they were standing in the Hogwarts corridors, having just emerged from behind the statue of the one-eyed witch. She realised they must've walked through some kind of geographic compression charm because it should have taken at least ten minutes to walk all the way back to the castle. That lazy git! Every winter he watches students stumble miserably through the freezing snow to get to Hogsmeade, while he gets to use this cosy portal of a passageway! Well she'd sure as hell be using it from now on.
As if he read her mind, Filch leered, "Now don't be getting any ideas, girl. I'm the only one who knows the password to get through from this side so I doubt you'll be seeing the walls of that passage again." Asha watched grumpily as the hump of the statue slid back into place. "Now, with some luck, Flitwick won't have left yet".
They made their way down the corridor and turned a corner, only to come face to face with Snape. It seemed he was on his way out of the castle; an old trunk was trailing magically behind him. He looked to be in a slightly better mood than usual, but that quickly changed as he registered the pair in front of him. Now he looked annoyed. He gave Asha a quizzical look before addressing Filch.
"What's she doing here?"
"Found 'er holed up in the Three Broomsticks, Professor". Snape's eyes narrowed and he glanced suspiciously at the young witch. Filch continued, "I was on my way to take her to Professor Flitwick".
"He's already gone" Snape stated coldly. The leer faded from the caretaker's face but returned a second later, his eyes shining with an even more malevolent gleam.
"Well, perhaps you'll have to deal with her, Professor." There was a heavy silence.
"Fine. With me, Winters," ordered Snape and he strode off down the corridor, not bothering to check whether or not she was following, his trunk bobbing in his wake. Asha's mouth had gone dry again and her hands clammy. He would definitely send her back to the Home. In fact, since he would likely apparate her there, she'd probably arrive a couple of hours earlier than if she had caught the train...
As they reached the potions classroom, Snape waved his hand and the door swung open. Asha hardly noticed where they were as she followed him in. He pulled a black sack out of his robes and began fossicking through the ingredients cupboard.
"What in Merlin's name are you still doing here, Winters?" Snape drawled tiredly, grabbing a miscellaneous bottle and stuffing it in the sack. "I thought I had finally reached that merciful time of year where I don't have to set eyes on a single pesky student for a full six weeks." He glanced at Asha and she looked away. What could she tell him? She still desperately did not want to go back to the Home.
"I.." She trailed off. Those sickening memories started flashing through her mind again like a slideshow of horror. A lump was rising in her throat and she could feel her heart pounding once again. Yet her expression stayed blank. She desperately didn't want him to see the distress she was in. No way would she ever make herself vulnerable like that again. But her legs were starting to feel weak and tingly. She sat down in the nearest chair and placed her folded arms on the desk in front of her, gaze directed ahead at the potion-stained stone floor. She could feel Snape's eyes on her. She knew she needed to come up with something to say but it was like her mind was a jammed machine, unable to function properly. Snape stopped rummaging through ingredients and pulled up a chair a couple of meters away.
"Asha," he said, suddenly serious, "what's going on? Tell me." His voice was calm but direct. Asha's chest tightened and her face felt strangling fuzzy. She actually couldn't pull herself together. Now, this was a terrifying feeling. She shuffled uncomfortably in her seat and brought her hands up to her forehead, elbows still propped on the desk. Then, realising that covering her face was a clear display of weakness, she quickly brought her hands back down and gripped the back edge of the desk, as if she were bracing herself to be jinxed. She hauled her gaze up to meet his. Snape's expression was unreadable, though at least it wasn't angry. Something about his controlled, disciplined, no-nonsense aura gave Asha the strength she needed to speak.
"I can't go back to the Foster Home".
Snape's stare became more piercing.
"And why is that?"
Asha felt sick to her stomach. She swallowed and looked away, staring at the jars lining the walls. She couldn't bear to look at him because she was so ashamed. So guilty. So sickened by herself and so, so angry at herself. Then she had a thought.
"Can I stay here over the summer?" She looked at him, unable to keep the hope and desperation out of her eyes. "I can look after myself and I swear I won't even set a foot outside the castle!"
"No. The headmaster doesn't allow students to stay ov-".
Asha interrupted in desperation: "No that's not true! I've heard that some years Dumbledore has let students who were failing their classes stay - to give them a chance to practice magic over the break."
"I said no" Snape stated firmly. Asha went quiet. "Besides, the headmaster is travelling for the next two weeks and I'm not sure any of the staff are staying in the castle this summer. I was about to apparate home. You will come with me to the Hogwarts Gates and I'll apparate you to the Foster Home." Asha couldn't bring her self to reply so she just gave a stiff nod.
The walk to the Gates took far shorter than Asha would've liked. It was a hot summer's afternoon so Snape had removed his cloak and carried it draped over his left forearm. They stopped just outside the gates and he held out his right arm. When Asha failed to notice he sighed and drawled "Take my arm, Winters, and tell me where it is I'm taking you".
"Huh?" Asha had been staring off into the hills, worrying about what Madeline would do when she saw her. What could Asha even say to her that would be of any worth? "Oh, right, sorry." Snape watched as Asha hesitated, considering his outstretched arm. He saw her hand make a subtle twitch as if to grab her wand as she cast a furtive glance at the forest bordering the road.
"Don't even try it, Winters. I guarantee even you wouldn't last one day in that forest. Now tell me the address." His baritone voice was now laced with ice. When she didn't reply he said "What is it that is waiting at that Foster Home of yours that is so formidable it could actually phase the fearless Asha Winters? Is there a big, bad bully or two?" She knew he was trying to provoke the truth out of her now. She squared her shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes. He was only a few inches taller than her. Despite her combative stance, her voice came out quiet and frail.
"I can't go back there. Just, not yet. Not right now. I won't do it" Asha could feel that terrible sensation of prickling behind her eyes. She squared her jaw. "I can't do it. Please".
"Well, what would you have me do then?!" he snapped. His words rang out in the air. She didn't know. This was all her fault. She should have at least taken the train back to London and stayed at a backpackers - then again she wasn't old enough to do that without a supervisor... "Fine!" he hissed. He grabbed her arm and turned on the spot.
