Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Author's Note: This chapter will likely point at Dumbledore as being more manipulative and it will likely not paint him in a good picture. With this in mind, if you love Dumbledore and could never see him in a darker light, then I would recommend not reading further. Please let me know what you think about the fic thus far.
Every day that came and went without a letter left Maera feeling more and more hopeless. Of course they didn't actually want her, she thought. Who would want little Maera Potter? She was an orphan, she had no friends, and even her own relatives didn't want to care for her. There was no reason for something as wonderful and amazing as magic to exist near her.
Maera slowly began to convince herself that everything had been a prank. There was no school for witches and wizards because magic didn't exist. She wouldn't be going to any such school anyway since she obviously didn't have magic as it didn't exist. The foundation of each and every doubt that she had was founded on the same belief: magic was not real. But, there was a part of her that could not accept this statement as true. This part might be small and outweighed by her anxieties and doubts, but it still shouted its opinion at her as often as it could.
Magic doesn't exist.
What about the rope? The small part of her asked. You changed grass into rope, that has to be magic!
No matter how much she wanted to hold onto the hope that the rope brought her, she was too scared to allow herself to do so. She didn't want to be disappointed any further than she already was each and every day without a new letter. The future that she had been so excited for was dimming more and more as her own thoughts grew darker and darker.
The monotony of each day prior to her birthday came back slowly but surely as August progressed. The first week of the month was almost complete and Maera felt herself falling completely back into her old habits. She quietly made breakfast for her family and then did every other chore imaginable. This very day, the fifth of August, had started in the same manner as all of the other days. Maera woke up, made breakfast for her family, gathered the mail and newspaper - noting that there wasn't a new letter for her, and had started on each of her chores for the day.
Aunt Petunia had decided that Maera would be working on the garden for most of the day as there appeared to be a heat wave coming in this weekend. Apparently, this was the perfect weather for her aunt's eleven year old niece to work in for hours on end. So, as she was ordered to, Maera was currently working on weeding all of the flower beds. The summer sun was beating down on her and the heaviness of Dudley's old clothes weighed on her. Sitting back on her heels, she wiped the back of her arm across her forehead to clear some of the sweat from her brow in the hope that it would let her see somewhat better.
As she sat, taking a brief break while making it look as if she was doing something so she wouldn't be caught slaking, Maera closed her eyes briefly to simply absorb the heat around her. She appreciated the warmth when it wasn't as oppressive as it currently was. Normally, Maera would compare the sun to a mother as the feeling of warmth that consumed her from the rays felt familiar to an old memory of what she believed was her mother's hand against her cheek. Now though, the heat felt far more alike to the overbearing mothers that she would sometimes witness around the neighborhood from her spot in the garden. This heat was relentless and followed you, trying to push itself into every area of your life.
Shaking herself out of the heat induced stupor, she opened her eyes once more. But, due to the intensity of the sun's rays, she had to blink a few times before the blurry world around her became visible once more. With each blink, the world became clearer - or, as clear as it could be given her poor eyesight. Though, each blink also revealed a dark shape that seemed to be getting closer to her. Bringing one of her hands up, Maera shielded her eyes from the sun to see if that might help her in any manner. Alas, the blurry and dark object was still blurry and dark, though it continued to grow as it came closer.
Unsure of what she was meant to do, Maera stayed where she sat on her heels. There was no way that she would rush inside, she would likely be punished for doing so. Holding her breath, she waited as the shape grew closer and closer. Finally, near the very edge of the garden on the street side of the house (likely about five feet in front of her face), the shape grew sharper. Squinting to see if there was any way that she might see the shape more easily, Maera was able to make out a tall and imposing figure that appeared to be dressed in some sort of black dress.
The person came to a stop in front of Maera and stared down their beak-like nose at her. From here, she could recognise that the dark object was a man. He seemed to be rather tall, at least taller than Uncle Vernon, and his dark, greasy hair hung limply to his jaw. The most striking feature that she could discern was his dark eyes. They stared down on her in a manner that she was both familiar and unfamiliar with. The hate that she felt from everyone regularly was present, but there also seemed to be some sort of confusion in his eyes. She met his stare with her own, blinking at him and hoping that he would speak up first as she had no idea what he might want. The staring match continued for a couple minutes before the man looked away. His head turned towards Number 4's front door and then back towards Maera. The confusion in his eyes was more pronounced. Finally, it seemed that he was going to speak up.
"Is this the home of Maera Potter?" His voice was smooth and slow, each word said in exactly the same way.
"Y-y-yes, sir." She stuttered back, blushing at the ineloquent reply.
The man raised his eyebrow at her and began to move away towards the door, but stopped and turned back to her. "And who are you?" He asked, his words just as measured as before.
"Mae-mae-maera Potter" She stammered before remembering to add, "sir."
The man's face morphed quickly into shock and then fell back into the indifferent sneer he had been wearing this entire time. The confusion in his eyes now battled with anger and disbelief. It was as if he was being met with something that was challenging each and every belief that he had, though she couldn't be sure.
"Miss Potter?" He said, though he ground his teeth on Potter and Maera wasn't sure how she was meant to feel about that. She nodded, to convey that she was in fact Ms. Potter - she desperately did not want to anger this man, he seemed like the type of man that you would want to remain on the good side of. The man looked at her, taking in her messy dark hair, the large glasses that precariously sat on top of her nose, the overly large t-shirt that could be mistaken as a dress on her, and the sneakers full of holes on her feet (sneakers that were obviously meant for a boy and that were obviously far too big for a girl her size).
"Miss Potter," the man started slowly, "my name is Professor Severus Snape. I work at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and I was sent here to answer any questions you might have."
Maera's eyes widened. They had answered her letter by sending someone like she had asked. Hope and excitement filled her suddenly and she smiled brightly at the man. He looked to be waiting for her to say something though, but she wasn't sure what he wanted. She tried to think of anything that he might be looking for from her, but again she didn't have any idea as to what he wanted.
"Miss Potter, would you mind inviting me inside so that I can answer your questions?" He asked this, obviously expecting Maera to act accordingly and bring him into the house, but she couldn't do that.
"I'm sorry Mr. Snape, sir, but I would prefer it if we stayed outside if that's alright with you." This was the first sentence that she had spoken to him without stuttering, something she felt proud of. It was one thing for her to not stutter around her family since she was used to their presence and mostly knew what they might do to her, but to speak without stuttering to this imposing man - it was something different for her, that's for sure.
"And why, Miss Potter," Snape began, the words taking a darker edge than before, "do you want to stay out in this heat to discuss something I'm sure your guardians would like to be included in?"
Maera gulped. She couldn't explain exactly why she didn't want the professor to come into the house, he would never understand that her family would not only vehemently deny that magic existed but also that they would punish her as a result of bringing even more freakishness into their lives. Looking away from the man, Maera thought of anything that she might be able to tell him.
"Miss Potter?" He drawled, tapping a foot in impatience.
She blanched and quietly replied "My family doesn't believe in magic." Maera waited for the professor's reply. She expected that he wouldn't believe her, no one did anyway. Staring at the ground, she missed the contemplative look pass over the professor's face.
Snape's POV.
He would prod her for more information, anything that could explain what exactly was happening at Number 4 Privet Drive. Severus Snape was not a man that easily accepted when he was wrong. Being sent to escort Ms. Maera Potter was not something he would ever have wanted to do, but he couldn't argue with Minerva when she told him that he had to go. According to her, the girl didn't know anything about magic - something they had been assured was incorrect by Albus when Minerva had confronted him. Afterall, how could the 'Girl who lived' not grow up knowing about magic and everything that she had done to save the British wizarding community.
Looking at the small child in front of him, however, Snape felt that there had to be something more going on. As far as he knew, Dumbledore had taken care to put Ms. Potter into a loving, magical home in the muggle world. That was what he had told the entire Wizengamot when asked about the Potter heir's whereabouts. With the passing of time, he went on to affirm to everyone that Ms. Potter was receiving the best tutoring that she could in order to one day enter the world that she had saved. It was with these beliefs, as well as the affirmations from Dumbledore that the girl was being spoiled by that loving family, that Snape came to Number 4 Privet Drive that day. He did not expect for each of these beliefs to be immediately thrown out the window when he met the girl in question.
The girl in front of him did not look eleven years old. Snape had plenty of experience with children given his position at Hogwarts as well as having been named Draco's godfather by the Malfoys. Even the shortest first years every year looked to be at least ten years old or near eleven. Maera Potter looked to be far younger, he'd probably guess closer to seven. She was tiny and her size was not helped by what he assumed was clothing hanging onto her. The t-shirt that she was wearing was old and had holes and stains on it. Snape couldn't tell what the original color was, but it was definitely once meant to be a lighter color. It seemed to be a dress on the poor girl and was held up by pins around the neck. She was also wearing shoes that were definitely not meant for her. Altogether, the girl looked like she hadn't been raised in the loving environment that Dumbledore promised.
Her green eyes, so very much like Lily's, were hidden behind curly black bangs and terribly fitted glasses. The remainder of the girl's hair was in such disarray that he would be surprised if anyone was able to help her with it. The child's skin was a dark and angry red from being outside, one of the many reasons that he wanted to move their conversation inside. No, there was no way that this girl, if she really was Maera Potter, had been treated the way that Albus Dumbledore had assured.
"Miss Potter, I'm sure that if I were to speak to them, then your guardians would be more amenable to the thought of magic? How about we head inside so that I can explain everything to everyone?" He wanted to see how she would respond to this. Each of her reactions thus far told him that she didn't want her guardians to find out that he was there. Her assurance that they didn't believe in magic affirmed that she didn't think that they would appreciate his presence, but it also went directly against what Dumbledore had told everyone. How could she grow up in a loving and magical family in the muggle world if everything he was currently seeing was true?
"Mr. Snape, sir," the girl began nervously, not looking up at him and hunching in on herself, "when I said that my guardians don't believe in magic, I should have included that they hate it."
"They hate magic." He said slowly, unbelieving that the 'Girl who lived' had been placed in such an environment. He looked from the girl to the house, he needed to know who exactly she lived with. "Miss Potter, who are your guardians?" He didn't care that the question was asked so directly, the Slytherin approach had not helped him thus far while questioning her so a more Gryffindor-esque question might be necessary.
"My guardians, sir?" She asked, not seeming to understand the importance of her answer.
"Yes, Miss Potter. Who do you live with?" He placed his full attention on the girl in front of him.
She finally made eye contact with him once more. Looking into her eyes, he was surprised to note that her eyes weren't an exact copy of Lily's like he had been led to believe. Rather than the color of the killing curse, they appeared to be closer to viridian with flecks of silvery gray throughout.
Those dark green eyes stared at Snape for a moment longer before Maera responded in a small voice, "I live with my Aunt Petunia and my Uncle Vernon."
Severus couldn't believe what the girl in front of him just said. She has been living with Petunia, Lily's terrible and rotten sister, for all of these years. How could anyone, least of all Dumbledore, give a child to someone as cruel and wicked as Petunia Evans, though she likely went by another name now. Understanding why the girl was reluctant to discuss magic within the home, he decided to bring her towards the small park he had seen at the beginning of the street.
"Come, Miss Potter, it seems that we have much to discuss."