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Heather Hidden

Chapter Two

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            Heather tossed again in the bed her godfather had prepared, trying to fall asleep, but was not even getting close.

            "I've got a sleep potion brewing, so I suggest you beat me to the punch." The man warned, flipping a page in the book he was reading.

            "Promise me something."
            He looked up, surprised, "What?"

            "I'm going to be around for the new school year, so you have to promise me that you'll go easier on my brother."

            "Heather, child, you know…"

            "I know why you do it, I know it's partially because of Daddy and partially because of me, but you have to promise me.  His mind and his soul aren't up to it.  I don't think I could bear to hear you say anything harsh to him.  So you have to promise me."

            "I can't promise you that, love."

            She forced herself into a sitting position, despite the pain that was ever-present in her head and stomach, "No.  Uncle Severus, you have to promise me or I will take him and leave.  Sirius will gladly take us both into hiding, which would not be something good since Harry's still in training."
            "Heather, you are treading dangero…"
            Unfortunately for the raven-haired man, he was unable to finish, when Albus entered the room, "Ah, still awake, Heather?"
            "'Fraid so.  I'm trying to make Uncle Severus see reason." She settled back against the pillows.

            "About?"

            "His attitude toward Harry during the school year."

            The Headmaster let out an 'um hum', before saying, "I agree with her, Severus."

            Snape sighed, "He won't go after me, you know.  If I'm acting nice to him, the Dark Lord will know that he is weak and attack him.  I'll suffer eventually, yes, but he will go to Harry first.  Of that I am sure."

            "Not if I'm here.  No one on their side would be stupid enough to attack Harry or Hogwarts, as long as he and I are together.  You know that." She told him, indignantly.

            "I will not endanger either his life!  And I certainly won't leave yours to chance!" The potions master exclaimed, rising to his feet as he did so.

            Minerva chose that moment to join them and was quickly informed of what the ruckus was about, "I want to side with you, Severus, but Heather is right.  When I was leaving, Poppy was trying to get Harry to drink a dreamless sleep potion…his cries…" She shuddered, "No child on this planet can handle that amount of pain and hatred, as well as having insults thrown at him everyday by a teacher.  I don't know what we're going to do about Draco Malfoy."

            "He's crying?" Heather's eyes began to water, and she hastily began to try to stand.

            "Heather Lily Potter, you stay in that bed!" The older woman growled.

            "Not if he needs me."

            Albus laid a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down, "We will take care of your brother for now.  You cannot help him if you are still sick."

            "I'm not sick!  Don't you three understand that?  I only get sick after visions!" She started to raise her voice, until her eyes met Dumbledore's, "I'm not a baby anymore.  I don't need to be coddled and protected."

            "And we aren't doing that.  We're just seeing to it that you return to your normal state, and when you're better, you won't have to be down here with your godfather.  I've already started the house-elves on your room.  I thought a somewhere near the Gryffindor tower would be to your liking."
            She relented, and moved herself back into the comfortable grove she'd made, "You know, I can't help but notice that I'm falling asleep in a bed that's in the middle of the sitting room.  Which means this was conjured.  So at what point during the night am I going to wake up on the floor?"

            "It's not conjured.  It's from Aunt Minerva's guest room." Snape replied, sitting back down to occupy his favorite chair once again.

            A few minutes of silence, then, "So what am I supposed to be teaching?"

            "The only opening is Defense Against the Dark Arts.  And I would like to give the position to you, Severus, but I'd rather not have Heather teaching your class."

            The aforementioned teenager put on a look of disdain, but broke into a smile upon remembering what had the headmaster to actually admit she and potions weren't a good mix, "Hey!  I believe I was the only one injured by that explosion."
            "My classroom was smoking for two weeks!" Severus threw at her.

            She laughed heartily, holding her ribs, "Merlin, I forgot about that!" But her mind caught up to her and her concern once again hit on Harry, "I want to stay with him."

            "Stay with who?"
            "Cornelius Fudge…who do you think?" She noticed the skeptical look in her aunt's eyes, "I've got my invisibility cloak.  No one will see me."

            "In the morning, you may see him.  And no matter how many times you ask, that will be your answer." Albus informed her, motioning for the raven-haired man to go check on the brewing sleep potion.

            "Can't blame a girl for trying."

            Any retort to her statement was cut off, Severus was walking back into the room, holding goblet of purple liquid in his hand, "Drink it, Heather." He ordered, handing it to her.

            "I can fall asleep on my own."
            "Not only is that a blatant lie, you and I both know you are trying to stay awake so you can sneak up to the hospital wing." He wrapped his hand around hers and pressed it back, trying to get her to drink.

            "I'm not four.  I think I know how to drink out of a goblet." She was getting angry, but stuffed it down as far as she could.  She quickly took a swig after ripping his hand away, tipping her head back, and fell into the blissful darkness being offered.

            Snape caught the cup before it was released from her grip, and settled her into a position a little more conducive to healing.  He returned to his chair and stared up at his peers, "The Gryffindor tower?"

            "She was a Gryffindor, wasn't she?  I thought she might also appreciate being close to Harry."

            Minerva nodded, "And the students might actually listen to her."

            "The girls will listen to her – the boys will drool." The potions master wasn't happy.

            "The boys can dream all they want, Severus.  They're teenagers."

            An argument was about to break out, of that Dumbledore was sure, and he left the room with a last glance toward the girl.

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            When dawn had come, Heather was feeling once again like herself – but a few floors up, Harry was struggling to wake up, while his friends fought to be admitted to see him.

            "Please?  We'll go in one at a time?" Fred asked, albeit meekly.

            Arthur Weasley sighed, and walked out from behind the curtains, "It's okay, Poppy.  Harry'll be awake soon anyway." He informed, which seemed to appease the mediwitch.  He led them into the small cubicle, conjured chairs, then promptly sat back down to wait for Dumbledore to arrive.

            "What happened to him, Dad?" Ron asked, after a few minutes of silence had passed.

            "I don't think I should be the one to tell you that, son." He replied, resting a hand on the teen's shoulder, "Harry has to do that for himself."

            Ron and Hermione nodded, but the twins knew something was up.  The look in their father's eyes – which the younger two had completely missed, had told them volumes.  They simply remained quiet until the headmaster came and the eldest Weasley rose to leave, "Dad?  Can we talk you for a minute?" George asked, and received a nod.

            Once the three had cleared earshot of Harry's bed, Fred asked, "He's been hurt badly this time, hasn't he?"

            Arthur was momentarily stunned, then, "This time?"

            "You haven't seen where the Dursleys' have been making him live.  There are bars on his window."

            "They lock him in all day and give him food through a cat flap in the door."

            The Ministry official sighed, "It wasn't only them.  Some…other things happened to him as well, and I need your word that neither of you will pressure him to tell you, or Ron, or Hermione, or anyone else about what has happened until he says he's ready."

            The duo looked between each other sadly, and nodded, "We promise.  And we won't tell Ron or Hermione."

            "Thank you." He breathed, hugged them both as tightly as possible, and, with a longing glance back, disappeared into the corridor.

            Fred and George just looked at their feet for a few moments, trying to regain some sort of calm when a small body knocked through them and fell to the floor, followed by, "Heather Lil…"

            The owner of the voice, Professor McGonagall had spotted them, "Good morning, boys.  Came to see Harry, I trust?"

            "Yes, ma'am." Fred replied.

            "I assume your father has left for the day?"

            George's turn, "Yes, ma'am."

            "Do have some faith.  Harry's very strong and if your new D.A.D.A. teacher has her way, he'll always have someone to talk to while he gets better."

            "That was our new teacher?" Both blurted it out, stunned – she couldn't have been more than a few years older than them!

            Minerva allowed herself a small smile, before returning to her normal mask, "Yes.  A trifle young, yes, but she does have experience, I am unhappy to say.  And Remus Lupin has been teaching her for ages."

            That got a rather pleasant reaction from the two teenage boys, who had promptly begun smiling and hopping from one foot to the other.  They sobered, however, when the other two Gryffindors appeared, misty-eyed and very unhappy.

            "Professor Dumbledore says we have to have breakfast and then we can come back in an hour." Hermione managed, stalking past the twins.  The trio of red-heads followed numbly after her, and the Transfigurations teacher moved to join the others.

            "Ah, I see Harrison Potter has joined us." She smiled at the half-lidded boy, "How are you feeling, Harry?"
            He closed his eyes, as if gathering energy, and spoke, "Ti…tired, Ma…Ma'am."

            Heather looked up at her godmother, "If Madam Pomfrey has anymore sleep potion, perhaps Harry should take some." She caught the appreciative look on his face, "Gain back some of your energy, and then I'll let them accost you." She teased.

            Realization dawned in Harry, "You…you're…the voi…voice."

            She merely smiled and took the offered goblet.  Holding his head firmly in one hand, she pressed the edge of the golden container to his lips and helped him to drink, "Slowly, now.  You can always take more…" She murmured, comfortingly, as he gulped down the liquid.  After another few minutes passed, he was asleep and she kissed his forehead.

            "Happy to be with him again, Heather?"

            "You have no idea, Uncle Albus."

            "Ah, well, you always have been rather attached to him." He smiled at a memory, and, with some prodding from her inquisitive look, told her, "Of all the children I've ever known, you are the only one who never asked her parents for anything beyond something to eat or play with; you never misbehaved around company, and was always polite; you doted on him, which I know your mother appreciated.  I cannot seem to recall a time when your parents weren't proud of you."

            "Dad used to call me perfection." She grinned, "But it's been my gift's doing.  I had an inkling that I wasn't going to be with them for too terribly long and I just couldn't be as bad as some other kids…I wanted their memories of me and my memories of them to be happy ones.  Ones I could pass on to the little brother I knew I was going to have."

            Dumbledore nodded, "I wish that your gift could have given you a happier childhood, Heather."

            "So do I." She lisped, wiping a stray tear and sniffing.  A thought came to her mind, "I heard you telling the Weasley twins about my position here.  What exactly are we going to tell the school?  I think they're going to notice that I'm only eighteen.  Not to mention that I don't want to be called 'Professor' in any way, shape, or form."

            "We are going to tell them the truth.  That you are here because your safety has been compromised, and that you will be assuming a teaching role." He explained calmly, "As for what they will call you, that is your decision.  I would prefer if you allowed them to call you something with a Miss in front of it, but as you said, you are eighteen."

            "Thank you." She smiled gratefully, and looked back at the soon-to-be fifteen year old, "Sleep well, Harry." She slipped from the edge of the hospital bed, and made her way toward the Great Hall.

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            By the time the girl reached her destination, two hours later as she'd stopped back in the dungeons and ended up taking a short nap, the other current teenage occupants of the castle were leaving for the Hospital Wing.  Ron and Hermione looked at her curiously, while Fred and George let themselves look at her knowingly.

            "Hello." She managed, her voice tired and scratchy.

            The only one not partially entranced by her replied, "Hello.  I'm Hermione." She held out a hand, and was pleased to have it shook in greeting.

            "Heather."
            "Are you a transfer student?"

            The redheaded girl laughed, "Umm, no.  I've actually been coerced into teaching." Taking the crestfallen look on her soon-to-be pupil's face, she added, "But I get that student thing a lot.  I only graduated two years ago."

            "Oh.  So you're nineteen?"

            "Eighteen."

            "But you said you graduated…"

            "…Two years ago.  Due to something that happened in my past, during the years Voldemort was at full strength, I had to go into hiding.  My parents were killed and my godparents feared for my safety.  So I moved around, went to all the different schools, with the exception of Durmstrang.  Though I tend to believe that the school I am an alumni of is Howarts.

            "By the time I was fifteen, I had taken every course possible.  But I didn't want to leave my friends, so I stayed an extra year as a teacher assistant at the Salem Witches' Institute.  A few of my friends graduated that year, and I did as well."

            Hermione's interest was piqued, "Do you think I could do the same?"

            Ron snickered, and continued walking after politely welcoming her to the school.  Fred and George nodded their greeting, and followed their younger brother.

            "I guess I should go with them."

            "I would.  Never put academics before friendship – despite what the teachers might say." Heather advised, her eyes twinkling in a fashion much like Dumbledore's, before turning and entering the Great Hall.

            Granger sighed, took the path her friends had, and arrived in the Hospital wing to find Harry sitting up quite on his own and smiling weakly.

            "Harry!"

            "Hi, Hermione." His smile broke into a grin as she ran forward to hug him as tight as possible, "Uh, 'Mione, you think you could…let me breathe?"

            She released him as though on command, "What happened?"

            He tensed at the question and she chose to drop it, "I'm sorry if I scared you."

            "It's alright.  I'm just glad Charlie found you.  We'd been searching for days, and it wasn't looking very good."

            "I kept moving." He shrugged, "I was trying to get to the Burrow."

            "From Surrey?"

            "Yeah."

            Hermione restrained the 'are you insane?!' comment that was threatening to break forth from her lips, and looked around at the other teachers there – Snape and Dumbledore.

            "Are you hungry?" Ron asked, noting the thinness of his friend.

            "A little."

            "I'll go get something." The redhead happily started to get off the bed.
            But the green-eyed boy made him pause with the next comment, "You don't have to."

            "I want to." He scurried from the room in a dead run, and, sensing the need for privacy, the teachers told them they'd be with Madam Pomfrey, then walked away.

            "How long are they keeping you here for?" Fred asked.

            "I don't know.  Professor Dumbledore doesn't want me to leave until there's 'someone to watch me'."

            George gulped, "Why'd he say that?"

            "Something about what happened over the summer.  I only remember Uncle Vernon throwing me out and then deciding to go to Ottery St. Catchpole to find you guys.  Everything else is blurry."

            The twins exchanged a look that was understood to mean 'this is not good'.

            "So you don't remember much else?"

            "No." Harry was getting worried – what was he missing? "Why do you ask?"

            Fred shook his head, "No reason.  Just curious." He changed the focus of the subject as quickly as he could, "Maybe the headmaster would let all of us stay for the rest of the summer here.  We could hang out with you."

            "You'd really spend your summer here?  With me?  Are you sure?  I wouldn't want to ruin any plans you've made." The feel of sorrow that rolled with the words was unnerving to those who knew him so well.

            "I see I've arrived just in time." Heather's sudden appearance startled Hermione, who's back was to the other girl, but not unwelcome.  Ron was with her, a full tray of breakfast food and drink in his hands, which he set down on the night-table and passed the fork to the bedridden boy.

            The new teacher watched him eat a few bites of egg and toast before speaking again, "I've been talking to the others, and we've come to the conclusion that you, my friend, cannot be left alone.  It's not that we don't trust you, Harry, it's what will happen when you remember everything that has happened a little more clearly.  As soon as you four get permission, you can settle into Gryffindor Tower," She directed that to all of the students before her, "and I hope it will be okay if I join you.  I haven't been in the common room in ages."

            "That's fine with us." George flashed one of his mischevious grins.

            "Don't think about it, Mr. Weasley.  I am well aware of your pranks.  My best friends are Dorothea and Thomas Kayesfort." She informed, and the boy backed off – one canary cream to the other set of Gryffindor twins and they were forever getting back at him, "Harry, there are some other rules I need to tell you.  If there is something that is causing you mental anguish or physical pain, you must tell someone.  You don't need to pick one person to tell.  You can tell me something, Professor Dumbledore another, and Ron something else.  But if you hold it in and tell no one, veritaserum will be used.  Arthur Weasley secured permission for us.  I promise that I'll try to avoid using it and will try to stall the other teachers, but I'm going to need your help, okay?"

            He nodded.

            "Also, this apologizing for everything that we know you're just bursting with is not acceptable.  You have done nothing wrong to warrant an apology as of yet.  Nothing that has happened is your fault.  Everyone here is very willing to tell you that.  But you cannot keep that in either, so you will be allowed two or three apologies a day."

            Ron snorted.

            "Something funny?" She looked at the boy, "I assure you, Youngest Mr. Weasley, that Harry would be apologizing non-stop if we let him."

            Something in Harry's eyes told the others that she was right, and another topic was dropped.  The boy in question spoke up, "Are all the teachers here?"

            "No.  The Headmaster was working on some things for the next school year with Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape is here at my request, and Madam Pomfrey was taking care of me then you.  They, and Mr. Filch are the only ones who are here."

            "Prosfessor Snape?" He asked, wearily.

            "I promise that the potions teacher you know isn't here.  At the moment," Her voice rose, "he's being himself!" She shouted the last part with a smirk, "He's my godfather, and I promise you that Professor Snape can be nice – and he will be.  Unless of course, he wants me to drive him out of his mind.

            "Now, I say we let Harry get a little more sleep.  Despite what his mind believes, his energy levels are low." She pulled Hermione from the covers, "We can go get permission from your parents, and come back."

            "Alright.  We'll see you later, Harry."

            "Have a nice nap." The twins wished in unison, and the group left.

            'This is going to be a long summer.' He thought as he drifted off, seeing the two teachers take seats beside his bed.

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*v* Cassie Jamie *v*

cj.1@cassie-jamie.com