By: Pirate-Girl1017
Chapter 4
Harry sat beside the door and nearly fell over when something furry pushed against his leg, he had to put his hand over his mouth to keep from screaming. But when he looked down the thing that hit him just purred and pushed its puffy head on his leg again. A little black and white cat with huge golden eyes starred up at him, he slowly began to pet its head. He saw a collar around its neck and looked at the purple heart shaped tag there, Puffy, was written there in a flowing gold script. Suddenly the feline stared meowing, loudly.
"What was that?" he heard Snape ask from inside.
"It must be Puffy, I'll go get her," footsteps came close to the door. He scrambled to get to his feet, but the cat ran around under them. Finally he managed to stuff himself under the stairs, ironically in a cupboard, a rather stuffy one really. He could see through a tiny grate near his head as the tow people in the salon came out, one looking around blankly, the other picking up the cat and cooing softly to it.
"How's my little baby," Bluebelle buried her face in the cats fur. "Have you been a good girl while mummy's been away?" Snape rolled his eyes at the sickeningly sweet sight. The little feline turned its attention to him, and he just happened to be close enough to have its sandpaper like tongue running over his hand.
"What is it doing?"
"She's showing that she likes you," she giggled.
"I must be going, I still have homework to make for my third year class."
"Sure you do," she sat her pet down again. "You can tell me the truth, Severus, of any one you can tell me."
"I don't have time at the moment, I'll see you at work, good night." He turned to leave, then stopped. "Oh, and remind your nephew that he has Occlumency lessons with me starting on Wednesday," he let himself out the door. She ran a hand through her messy hair and went into the kitchen. Harry gently opened the door to his hiding place and snuck back up the stairs to his room. What he had heard shocked him to the bone. She was in terrible danger now, Voldemort was after them both now. That marking Lupin talked about must be her scars, and she didn't tell any one about them. Apparently Snape didn't know about them either or he would have done or said something about them, Harry was sure about it.
Sow what could he do about it?
He had defeated the Dark Lord seven times already, but now what? It wasn't just him he was after any more. Just how powerful was Bluebelle Evans anyway? A bright light had come from under and around the salon doors when he had sat there. He wondered if she had done that. So she had put away Bellatrix and her sidekicks into Azkaban, that was pretty good for a single person to do. How did she do that?
Meanwhile the object of Harry's rampant thoughts was sitting on her kitchen counter sipping a very strong tea laced with brandy. Her long night gown and robe sleeves were rolled up to her shoulders, (all which she had conjured up the second she came into the room) she stared at her arms as she drank. Long, white, slashing lines criss-crossed over pale flesh and continued toward the rest of her body in the shape of hissing reptiles. She sighed and downed half her cup. She knew each path by heart, each crossing and each shape over her skin. In some places it looked like a map of a complex city, others the openings made out the shape of skulls breathing out even more serpents. He had really marked her with those.
Puffy slept on her lap, happy to have her mistress back. Skippy was curled up on her miniature bed in front of the fireplace. She knew Harry was in his bed, probably dreaming of Quidditch and Cho Chang. Everything seemed in perfect order in her home, but she knew it wouldn't last. She recalled the prediction made by Professor Trelawney that day at school. The woman barely got anything right in her art or in real life for that matter, but still she couldn't help but want to know more about it, it somehow rang true in her case. She just didn't know how yet.
With a final gulp she finished her drink and set it into the sink, Skippy would get it in the morning. What she wanted right now was sleep. She picked Puffy up and cradled the little furry creature in her arms like one would a baby and brought her with her to her bedroom. The cat settled itself on the edge of the four poster and was asleep again in no time. Her owner on the other hand went to the window. She lent her forehead on the glass pane and sighed, that feeling had come over her again.
A hand rubbed itself over her eyes, and came away wet. She didn't want to cry, she hated crying as much as she hated the predicament she was in. But how could he be so cold to her? The thought was pushed from her mind when she yawned and realized how tired she actually was. The blankets were a warm comfort as she buried her head in the soft pillow.
The nest time Harry was at school he had a million thoughts going through his head. But the most prominent was the after classes activity that was planned for him.
Occlumency.
His feet seemed to becoming glued to the floor with each step he took towards the dungeons. When he finally arrived at the office of the Potions Master he felt cold all over, and it wasn't the ever-present chill of the lower level. The last lesson he had in that room had ended noting less then terribly. He grabbed the knob and went inside, Snape was waiting for him. The pensive was on the table in a far corner as it was last time, the room was as cold as ever and the teacher still wore the same scowl. He had just finished pulling long, silvery liquid strands by his wand from his head and dropping them into the large bowl next to him.
"I want to be here as much as you do, Potter, so I suggest that you try not to repeat the failure we had last year. Am I perfectly clear?"
"Yes, sir," he replied numbly. All he got back was a cold glare.
"I have to send something out in the Owlery, you were early for once, but it seems at a bad time. Do not touch anything." And Harry was alone. It figures the one time in his life he was on time for one of Snape's lessons he would have to start late anyway. The marble pensive caught his eye, and he felt drawn to it. Standing over the huge bowl was a mistake, leaning towards the swirling, glittering mass of slime was even worse. Not pulling away from the tell tale feel of entering a memory should have had him wanting to leap headfirst towards the whomping willow.
He found himself in the same room, and it was still a classroom but it seemed newer, like it had just been furnished to be used. All the tables were empty, not even the teacher was sitting at the large desk at the front of the chamber. Then he saw some one, a thin gangly boy at the back of the room. Shoulder length black hair hung over his arms as he read from a thick volume of advanced potion making.
He was seeing Snape as a student, again. But he looked younger then the last time, certainly not a fifth year like the one that had been strung upside down by James Potter. This one might have been one to two years younger, he wasn't near as tall as he was in Harry's time.
Suddenly the door to the room opened and a strawberry blonde girl came inside, she carried a tray of food in one hand, a bag of books in the other.
"You're that far already?" she asked.
"I'm a fast reader."
"Obviously." The girl sat the things on the table next to Snape, pulled up and started eating a sandwich she had brought. She was pretty enough with hair that barely grazed her shoulders that was a riot of tumbling curls, barely tamer then Hermione's. Her uniform was almost all removed, Harry saw the bright sun outside so it must have been a hot day; she wore just her white dress shirt and gray skirt.
She too was young, a second or first year.
"What are we doing today?" she asked.
"Temporary camouflage," he answered. Step by the step the memories made the potion and finally it was done. In the mean time their unknown visitor was looking around the room. A clock on the wall said it was two in the afternoon, a calendar with the dates gone by indicated it was a Saturday in May. He also saw the year, 1977. So the two at the table were probably doing weekend homework, but who ever would want to do schoolwork with his future teacher was beyond him.
Or maybe it wasn't.
"It's finished."
"Good, now we need to test it," the girl looked through the glass tube the potion was in. "How do we do that?"
"Well, one of us has to drink it, obviously."
"Really?" she swirled it around. "I'll do it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yep," and she downed the whole thing before he cold stop her. Her face turned inside out and she clutched at her stomach then fell off her chair, her feet flying in the air. A puff of light green smoke came up from where she landed followed by strange fizzing sound. "Ow."
"Did it work," he waved the fog away as best he could. Harry leaned over the desk, trying to see what had happened. Then again the door to the classroom opened and a red haired girl in Gryffindor robes came in. It was his mother, Lily. "What do you want?"
"I'm looking for my sister, Sirius said she came in here to meet you, again." A hand clasped the edge of table and the girl who had drank the potion came up holding the back of her neck, only now she had a full head of bright aqua colored hair. "Bluebelle! What happened?!"
"Huh?" Well, he knew how she got her trademark, and his mum didn't look to pleased about it.
"What did you do to her?"
"I didn't do anything, she offered to test it."
"What are you two going on about?" Bluebelle looked at the strand of hair between her fingers and screamed. "Severus! Change it back!" Again a new person came into the room and Harry felt a hard pull at his heart, a young, handsome, alive Sirius barged in.
"I knew she was with you Snivell- Oh my god what happened to your hair Belle?!"
"Will you stop calling me that! And it's none of your business what I do with my hair. Come on Severus," she grabbed him by the arm and they left the room in record time.
The area went pure white as that memory faded and another began.
This time he was in the courtyard, the sun was setting and many students were going inside. A lone figure sat on bench plaiting its hair. It was his aunt again, only she was older now, her blue tresses longer and her slender body now visible without the little baby fat from her younger years. A tall, sallow, young man sat down next to her, another good looking one Harry could see was hiding behind some bushes.
"What are you gonna do now that you've finished school?" she said as she unbraided and re braided a lock of hair.
"I don't know," he shrugged. His hand scratched his lower, right arm where the Dark Mark would be in the present. But for some reason he thought it might already be there. "I do have an idea, but..."he trailed off.
"But what? You've been out for a year now and you haven't done anything?"
"Can you come some where with me?"
"Sure, when?"
"Now." They stood and walked out, him leading her for a change, Sirius trailing behind. Black stopped behind column and yanked something from his bag, James' invisibility cloak, and put it on. As much as it hurt to see his godfather, even in memory (which meant Snape had known Sirius was there) he was too curious to just stand there. He had time until his lessons began, the Owlery was on the other side of the school.
Eventually they stopped, in the start of the Forbidden Forest, Sirius had faded from the thought and Bluebelle looked bewildered.
"What are we doing here?"
"I heard your sister saying you wanted to be an auror after you leave school. Is that true?"
"Yeah, but what does that have to do with bringing me here? Dumbledore will have me expelled for being here." Snape hissed under his breath and scratched his arm again. "Is something wrong?"
"I've found some people, Belle, people who understand me. They want to change the world for the better. I can have whatever I want, you can to, just come see them with me tonight." She gave him a suspicious look and bit her bottom lip as she scuffed her foot on the ground.
"I don't know..."
"Please?" He reached out and held her hands in his, she blushed and looked tentatively up at him.
"Who are these people, are they with the Ministry or something?"
"They're more powerful then the Ministry, or at least they will be soon enough. And they need powerful witches and wizards to help them."
"Help them with what?"
"To fix this world," he stepped closer to her and she turned and even deeper red. "I know you are a powerful witch, we need you."
"How could they fix the world? No small group could do that, muggles live here too, not just magic folk."
"That's what they'll fix," he said.
"Why would that need fixing?" Her face was starting to show she understood what he meant, and was both afraid and upset. "My parents are muggles, remember?"
"They don't deserve such a witch in their family, they already have a non magical daughter, let them keep her. You belong with your own kind." He seemed to become more desperate with each word, like he had to get her to believe him no matter what.
"This isn't like you," she tried to pull away.
"No, listen to me," he brought her back to him so hard she was pressed right against him. They stared at one another in the eye for some time. "It's for your own good."
He couldn't take it anymore, Harry pulled out.
Deep, raged breaths came from him as he sat down on the first chair he could find. The same words from the night in Bluebelle's house had happened before, Snape had tried to get her to join Voldemort. He thought it was for her own good. All of it made no sense to him, why would Snape want her to join when all Voldemort wanted were pure bloods? What did he mean by they could have whatever they wanted? It had to be some sick promise the Dark Lord made to any one he could get to join forces with him.
It seemed he pulled out just in time because just then his tutor came back, whatever he needed sent done with.
"Ready, Potter?"
"Yes, sir."
The hour went slower then anything Harry had ever done in his life, even slower then watching Dudley run from the couch to the refrigerator. And the second the torture was over he made a beeline for Bluebelle's rooms. The door was surprisingly unlocked, he could see the cat from the cottage curled up on a plush chair in front of the fireplace as he pushed his way in. The person he was looking for was lounging on a couch, a bottle of near empty wine in her hand and two others laying next to her.
"Aunt, are you all right?"
"Hmm," she sat up slightly and blinked as if she couldn't get him into focus. "Oh, Harry it's you." She tired to stand but stumbled and nearly fell on a small coffee table. "Yes, I'm fine, never better," she tripped and fell on a footstool.
"You've been drinking," he winced as she fell again. "And it looks like you've had about enough," he helped her to her bed and took the alcohol from her.
"No, I'm-hic- fine really," she hiccuped.
"I wanted to talk to you about something but I think I'll wait until tomorrow," he pulled the covers over her.
"Sure thing 'Arry," and she promptly passed out. He decided that the best thing to do was go to Madame Pomfery and ask for a hang over hang over potion so that his drunk relative wouldn't have to hold her head al through her classes. The school nurse was a little apprehensive to give a student such a remedy but when he told her whom it was for she gave it to him without any more questions. He also heard her mumbling something along the lines of 'not again, that man has to get it sooner or later.'
Harry had a vague idea who she was talking about. So he left the bottle of odd smelling purple liquid on her bedstead and went back to his dormitory.
The next day Bluebelle woke to her head feeling like it was splitting in half from the inside, or like an army of goblins was trying to break in. She clutched at it and noticed the hollow bottle of red wine on the floor and the flask of Brandywine's All-Purpose Headache Remover. Quickly she grabbed the medicine and drank most of it down, it seemed she was good at that. The clothes she had had on the day before clung to her and smelled strongly of liqueur, she pulled them off and hurried to her bathroom. Then she grabbed a fresh dress and cloak from her closet and pulled her hair into a quick bun.
By the time she reached her classroom she was extremely late, Professor Snape had taken her place.
"Professor Evans, good morning," he said in his ever cool voice.
"Good morning, sorry for my lateness, I wasn't feeling very well earlier and couldn't seem to get out of bed."
"Yes, I was informed of that," he stood from his seat behind her desk and made for the door. "Meet me in my office during lunch, Belle, we need to talk," he whispered in her ear as he walked past her. She nodded and went to work.
The lesson was sluggish and went by with an interruption every few minutes. More paper balls flew across the room, and several students in several classes wanted to know why she had been so late. A rumor was going around that she was a bit too friendly with one of the male teachers, Draco asked her about that in the middle of class.
"Professor Evans, is it true that you're Professor Snape's new girlfriend?"
"Mr. Malfoy, did you know you have a weeks worth of detention with Mr. Filch," she replied without looking up from her role book. On top of that it seemed that Amethyst Pierce had tried out the wishing away a person to the goblins, even though she had been told the monarchy there didn't need any more of the pesky vermin.
Well maybe that was just a little bit exaggerated.
So now she had to write to the goblin King of all people to ask for Neville Longbottom back. Even her younger classes were trouble, they had absolutely no idea what had been gone over three days before and were obviously not studying. So she had to go over the entire material again, and heaven knew how much she hated having to go on about Cornish pixies. One Hufflepuff girl even tried to ask if some could be brought in. One teacher had done that before she came to the school and she wanted to pet one. Bluebelle nearly went through the ceiling, she knew who had done that little number, met him on several occasions and the loony had the audacity to try and giver her advice on how to ward off werewolves.
No, it was not a good day what so ever.
By the time lunch had come she couldn't have been more thankful. She all but ran down the halls and when the sight of Snape's office came up in front of her she felt like she had won a million gallions.
"Severus, you there?"
"In here," he called from a small room filled with glass jars containing things she'd rather not name.
"What did you want to talk about?" He emerged and sat on his desk, an unlikely thing when you think about it, he was upset about something that she could be sure of.
"When I was giving Potter his Occlumency lessons last night I came across something in his head that I found rather odd," he looked down at her over his pointed nose.
"And that would be..."
"Scarring, on your body, the reason why you never show near as much flesh as you used to."
"I did get older, Severus, maybe I just don't want to be wearing the most revealing thing on the market anymore. And I don't have that many scars." She crossed her arms over her chest and examined a chart on the flow of poison through a human beings body. Not a picture she would normally want to stare at, but it was the closest thing to her.
"I would beg to differ," he stood and walked over to her so that they were inches apart. "If you don't have do many markings then let me see your arm." She did nothing. "If you don't show me Belle I'll look on my own," again she stood stock-still. His hand lashed out and dragged her sleeve up her arm to her elbow and untied the skintight glove under it and threw that to the floor. Thick and thin white tissue ran up the length of her limb, weaving around one another like small rivers. Upon closer inspection he could see that they were all snakes.
"Are you happy now?" she hissed.
"Is this what Lupin meant when he said that you were marked? Not in the Dark Lord's mind but in your own skin?"
"Yes, he wanted to make sure I was noticeable," her voice had dropped all it's emotion and became coldly monotone.
"Why did you never tell me?" Fierce blue eyes bored into his, a fire seeming to burn inside them.
"For your own good," she snatched away her arm and held it to her breast like a wounded animal would. "If you had any inkling about these he might have picked it up in your mind. Then you would be the one punished for keeping the information. Does that make sense to you?"
"Belle that is no reason not to tell me-"
"Then what is?" Suddenly she couldn't remember why she had been so happy to come here in the first place.
"I knew you put away Le Strange and the others, but how did you get those?"
"I got them after I put her away, and I got caught. They wanted to make sure that if I was ever found again that they would know who I was."
"Are there more?"
"How much of me is covered up? That's how many more."
"I wish you would have told me, Belle, I could have helped you when it happened."
"You were still trying to break away when it happened, so I wouldn't bother worrying about it," she started to leave but he grabbed her wrist.
"Is there no way to heal it?" He was being much more kind then he had ever been since she had returned, it was hard not to grin at the change.
"No, only Voldemort can take them away." He sighed and let her go, turning away from her, she sighed too, an exasperated sigh. "What's the matter now?" she asked as she picked up her glove.
"Nothing."
"Tell me," she implored. He slumped his shoulder and faced her again, he seemed to age right in front of her, he seemed so weary, so tired much past the thirty-seven years that he had.
"You've been put through so much because of me, and now I have this on my conscience, it's all beginning to be too much." She laid a hand on his shoulder and leaned her head next to it, surprisingly he didn't push her away.
"It's tiring for me too, I just want to lay down at home and not worry about any of this war. All I want is to relax, raise my nephew and pretend this isn't happening." One of his cold hands rested over hers and gripped her fingers gently. "And I want you to be happy, Severus, that's what I've wanted the most for over twenty years."
"I know, Bluebelle, I know," and he held her hand tighter and rested his head on hers.
Disclaimer: You get idea by now. Should I go a teensy bit father in the next bit with the lovebirds? I need to know or else they may not ever get together. Oh and Nadine? Fuck off. I can't control what the site does to my formatting it was fine when I tried to update and freaked up when it got there. I know it does that it has happened before. And yes I am gonna keep the name Bluebelle because I happen to like it and I don't care that you don't.