Chapter 7

Why is he fretting so much over this conversation? The message that he needs to relay is not at all complex. It should be simple. All he has to do is tell Albus what the girl said. He'd assured Potter that he would make her wishes to be relocated known. Why is that so difficult?

Perhaps it's because he knows that Albus will find a way to turn this around on him. He'll ask, "Why do you care, Severus?" and make him feel uncomfortable. Severus scowls. He'll surely have that damn twinkle in his eye too, the one that makes Severus want to hex the old coot because there is no reason that anyone should ever look at him in such a way. And Albus will somehow insinuate that he cares for the girl. That makes his skin crawl. He doesn't care about Potter. He cares about Lily and his promise to protect the girl. That's all. He could care less about Potter's happiness, but he has to protect the girl's fragile mental state. Right?

He paces back and forth in front of the headmaster's door, trying to get his simple thoughts under control and sorted into neat, little boxes, but it seems that nothing is every simple or neat when it comes to Harriet Potter.

"Ah, Severus," Albus says casually, suddenly sauntering out of his quarters. He studies Severus's face and then smiles knowingly. "Did you need something?"

And there's the twinkle… Fuck.

Severus takes a calming breath and then speaks. "I just thought I'd pass along a quick message to you."

"A message?" Albus questions. "From who?"

"Ha- er.. Potter," he says, trying to cover his blunder. He didn't refer to the girl by her name. Especially not in front of Albus. She had always been Potter. She would always be Potter.

Severus straightens and composes himself. "She wanted me to inform you that she'd like to be removed from the hospital wing as soon as possible."

"She told you this," he says with a hint of surprise. "I wasn't aware that you two were in close communication with one another."

"We're not," Severus states sharply. "I caught her sneaking out of the hospital wing, and as a Hogwarts' professor, I thought it was my duty to return her. She complained and whined that she needed to be moved to another part of the castle."

"Oh. That's interesting. Did she explain why?"

"She's uncomfortable in the hospital wing."

"I see," he says pensively. "Unfortunately, we both know that's not possible."

"I agree that she shouldn't be left unsupervised but leaving her there is causing her distress. Isn't there somewhere else she could stay for the time being."

"Where do you suggest she stay?"

"I have no idea," Severus answers honestly. He hadn't come up with a solution to the girl's problem. He is only the messenger. "Couldn't you hire someone to stay with her in Gryffindor Tower."

"Do you really think that's necessary."

"Her mental state is obviously unstable at the moment. I would think that you would be more concerned."

The old man sighs. "I am worried about her, Severus. I truly am. But she needs to be in a safe environment with someone that can take care of her. Right now, the hospital wing is where she needs to be. She has Poppy and all the resources necessary for her care."

"Obviously, Poppy is not equipped to care for her. She can't even keep the girl from traipsing around the castle."

"Alas, Poppy is overwhelmed at the moment," Albus says. "She can't watch over Harriet constantly, but she is the best option."

"There is no one else?"

"Well," Albus begins, a gleeful smile blooming on his wrinkled face. "There is one person that I would trust."

Severus is almost certain that he will not like the old man's answer. Anything that brings Albus Dumbledore that much joy will undoubtedly cause him irritation. He stares at the man with a raised eyebrow. "And who would that be?"

"You of course."

"Absolutely not," he replies immediately.

There is no way he can care for a child. Especially not this child. She is traumatized and fragile and he simply does not have the patience to deal with that. In addition, she is Potter's child. A child that, up until recently, he'd despised. No. No. It just isn't possible. Severus Snape does not like children, and he will not care for one.

"C'mon, Severus. You're clearly worried about her. You're the only staff member that I trust completely who resides in the castle and has the time and resources to care for her. You already brew her pain potions, you know about her injuries, and you have her best interests at heart."

"There has to be someone else."

"There is not."

"Albus, I don't even like the child. She would drive me completely insane."

"I think your mind is clouded by the past, by who you thought she was. But you have come to know Harriet much better recently. You know she's not attention-seeking or petulant. She's a smart, resourceful young witch."

Severus does not argue with that. He will also never confirm it. No one needs to know that he'd been wrong about Harriet Potter.

"She's James Potter's child."

"Yes. But she's Lily's as well."

Severus has no retort for that. He can never think straight when it comes to Lily.

"All you have to do is make sure she isn't harmed. And it seems as though you're already doing that anyway," Albus says with shining eyes.

"You forget that Ms. Potter is not a fan of me either. She'll never agree to this. She'll prefer to stay in the hospital wing."

"Well, if you're so sure of that, then it there's no harm in agreeing. I'll give Harriet her options, and if she chooses to stay in the infirmary, she may."

"She will."

"So, you agree?"

"She won't agree."

"Do you agree?"

Severus sighs and then nods. "I suppose. But it is completely unnecessary."

"We'll see," Albus says, beaming before he turns to leave.

Severus frowns. Manipulative old coot.

The infirmary is quickly becoming Harriet's least favorite place on the planet. Well, her least favorite excluding the Dursley house… And the graveyard. She shivers. Think of something else. Quick! She latches onto the first image that enters her mind: Her broomstick.

She wonders where her broom is. She hasn't seen her trunk or any of her possessions. Where are they? Still at the Dursleys? She hopes not. If they are at her Aunt and Uncle's house, they've probably already been thrown out. She decides not to think about that either.

Harry sits up tall and peers out the window, imagining that she's soaring high above the castle on her broom. She closes her eyes, and she can practically feel the humid, Summer air lapping against her face and the sweet but pungent smell of the blooming trees in the forbidden forest, bright pink from the sun's generous rays. She races across the castle grounds, free from restrictions, free from this room and this uncomfortable hospital cot. She soars around the castle towers, flies low over the Great Lake, feeling the slight spray of water dancing across her ankles and seeing her blurred reflection zooming by. She climbs higher than the birds and then plummets toward the Earth. The grass grows closer and closer until she can practically see the individual blades of green. Then, at the last possible moment, she pulls back and feels the indescribable adrenaline rush that can only come from such a daring move. Her heart rate surges. She takes in a deep gulp of fresh air. Except this air isn't fresh… It's stale. She opens her eyes and reminds herself that she's still indoors. Ugh. She throws herself backward onto the cot and lets out a huff. What she wouldn't give to be outside right now instead of trapped in this dreary room for all hours of the day.

Not only is the room a constant reminder of what she's been through. It's just plain boring. They've trapped her in here with nothing to do except lie in a bed, constantly thinking about why she's here. Is it really a surprise that she is so desperate to leave?

Harry doesn't bother to sneak out today. She knows that Snape will never let her get all the way to her dormitory. The man is always one step ahead of her. It's infuriating. But he had promised to speak to the headmaster about moving her. That was nice of him. She isn't sure if she believes him though. The greasy haired man has never liked her much, and she doubts that he will ever do her such a selfless favor.

When Dumbledore steps into the room unexpectedly, she decides that this is her only opportunity to escape. Snape's not going to ask, so it's up to her.

She waves her arms frantically to capture his attention, and the old man smiles kindly at her.

"Hello, Ms. Potter. You are looking much better."

Harriet nods, and scribbles a message down on the parchment that she keeps on the bedside table. She holds it up for him and offers her most polite smile.

Can I please leave?

Dumbledore chuckles. "That's exactly what I came to speak to you about. Professor Snape informed me that you feel uncomfortable staying here. Is that true?"

Harry nods, feeling much more serious than before. The gravity of the situation hangs over her again, her childish dreams of flying far from her mind.

"This is very important to you, isn't it?"

She nods again, avoiding his gaze.

"You know that I can't just allow you to stay in the Gryffindor dormitory unsupervised," Dumbledore says somberly.

"Please, isn't there something that you could do?" she croaks, discarding the parchment and clutching her sore throat. "I could stay in my dorm. Madame Pomfrey could come check on me."

"Use the parchment, Harriet. Your throat needs to heal," he instructs before answering her. "And Madame Pomfrey needs to stay in the hospital wing. She has to tend to other patients."

What other patients?

"She deals with people other than students. Friends of mine, mostly, who need help. She can't just leave her post for the majority of the day. It wouldn't be safe."

Someone else?

"Harriet, there is no one else I trust to watch you that is available."

"What about Hagrid? He could watch me! Please sir," she squeaks, unable to resist the urge to speak.

"I'm afraid that's not an option."

"Well isn't there anyone else here in the castle. There has to be someone that you trust." Her raw throat burns like fire, and she has to pause to take a sip of water.

"Don't speak," Dumbledore reminds her. "The professors are gone for the break. They have families and other responsibilities. Besides, no one is supposed to know that you're here."

There's no one?

"Well,"…. "There is one other person, but I think you will prefer to stay here."

Who?

"Professor Snape."

She raises her eyebrow. Snape… Really?

"Professor Snape, Harriet," he admonishes with a smile. "He stays in the castle over the break, he would know how to deal with most medical emergencies, and most importantly, I trust him."

Harriet isn't sure what to say. She never expected Dumbledore to suggest Snape. It's almost too strange to imagine herself living in the same quarters as the grumpy Potions Professor.

"You don't have to decide right now, Harriet. But those are your two options," Dumbledore explains. "You would have more privileges if you lived with Professor Snape. Because of the increased amount of supervision, you'd probably be allowed to spend time in other areas of the castle, maybe even outside occasionally. And you'd have your own room of course."

Outside? Her own room? Harry couldn't believe it. Was she really considering moving in with Snape? Ron would have a heart attack if he knew.

"Do you have any questions?"

She picks up her quill and parchment, but she doesn't know what to write. This whole situation seems too ridiculous to be true.

You could finally get out of here, she reminds herself. She would have more freedom, more opportunities. Sure, she'd be with Snape, but she could hide out in her room most of the time. It had to be better than the hospital wing. Right?

She chews on her bottom lip, contemplating her decision. Then she places the quill to the parchment, takes a moment to write down her question, and holds it up for the headmaster.

When can I move in?

The next morning, Snape appears, draped in his usual, pitch black robes and looking more uncomfortable than Harriet has ever seen him. His eyes are like two mounds of coal and his scowl is so prominent that it can easily be seen from across the room. She wonders if Dumbledore forced him to do this.

They stare at each other for a few moments before Snape, probably realizing that she is unable to speak, opens his mouth.

"Come on, Potter. I don't have all day."

Harry climbs carefully off of her bed and follows him toward the dungeon. He doesn't look back at her, and she is soon trailing far behind. Her short, stumbling gait is no match for his fast-paced hustle.

When she finally makes it to his quarters, he is glaring impatiently, but he doesn't say anything. He tucks a strand of dark hair behind his ear, pulls out his wand, and turns to her.

Harry's heart sinks and her eyes grow wide as saucers. She takes a step back, stumbling slightly.

This is why he's agreed to take her. He's a death eater. He's taking her back to Voldemort. Harriet doesn't know what to do. She could try to scream, but she doubts any sound will come out. Her skin grows cold and clammy and her lungs feel empty. All she can do is stare, with wide, glassy eyes at the man she was foolish enough to trust.

Snape takes a step toward her, looking confused. His eyes dart between her and the wand and then a spark of realization is clear in his expression. He lowers his wand slowly and slides it back into his holster. He raises his hands in submission and takes a careful step back.

"Ms. Potter, it's okay. I forgot about your aversion to wands. I was just going to show you how to enter my quarters."

His voice is slow and controlled, and Harriet is inclined to believe him, but she still can't force herself to move. She's petrified.

"Please calm down. Everything is okay," he tells her.

She still doesn't move.

"We will stand here for as long as you need," Snape says, leaning casually against the wall. There is no anger present in his features, no irritation, no scowl.

Harry softens a bit, her breaths coming easier.

They stay that way for several minutes, Snape standing quietly at the wall and Harriet wobbling in the center of the hall, trying to calm herself. Then, finally, she takes a step forward.

"Can I take out my wand now?" Snape asks her.

Slowly, she nods. I will not panic, she tells herself. He won't hurt me. Dumbledore trusts him.

He draws his wand again, says an unfamiliar spell, and touches the tip of his wand to a single, square stone. A doorway appears, and Snape puts his wand away before ushering her forward. She follows, still cautiously, as he leads her into a simple, sophisticated living room.

There are two sleek couches, black, as she'd expected, but the walls are crisp white, decorated with shelves of books, and several framed abstract paintings. A fireplace sits in the center of one wall, spreading warmth and a comforting glow. A red area rug lies in the center, tying all the elements together. She is surprised that the room feels almost peaceful instead of menacing. Its clean, crisp, and has undeniable traces of Snape, but it's nice.

The rest of the rooms are decorated similarly with black and white and traces of bold colors sprinkled throughout. Snape shows her the kitchen which leads into a small dining area, a study filled with potions, his bedroom which she is instructed never to enter, a bathroom, and finally the door that leads to her own room.

She pauses without opening the door, afraid of what lies behind it. Will it be a bare dungeon like her room at the Dursley's, cold and cage-like, or will it be a tiny cupboard, just barely large enough for her to curl up in?

She feels the Potion Master's gaze on her and finally decides to open the door. Her fingers curl around the cool, brass handle, and it turns easily in her palm.

Harry's mouth curls into a genuine smile. Her room is almost an exact replica of her dormitory, except there is only one large bed instead of five small ones. Maroon and gold are strewn across the room as a symbol of Gryffindor pride. Her trunk is set up in the corner, and she notices several of her possessions piled on top of a vanity. It's nearly twice as large as her room at the Dursley's and a million times more comforting. A walk-in closet lies in the corner, and Snape points out her own personal bathroom behind a door at the far side of the room. It's so much better than she ever imagined.

"Will this do?" Snape asks, studying her expression.

Harry's mouth gapes open slightly, and she has to blink back the tears that threaten to form. She nods sharply, smiling at the professor for the first time.

"All of your things have been retrieved from your relatives' house, but Dumbledore has instructed me to keep your broom, and your father's cloak. Those things will be returned to you when he feels you can handle them."

She wants to argue with this, but she decides not to. Snape is being far more civil than she expected, and she doesn't want that to change.

"Breakfast is at eight, lunch is at noon, and supper is at six. Most of the time, I will be in my study. If you need something, you may knock, but do not enter," Snape says seriously. "You are not permitted to leave my quarters unless I accompany you. The door will be locked, so don't try to leave. I will know. Do you have any questions?"

Harry shakes her head, overwhelmed by all the new information.

"I want you to be aware that if you cause trouble here, there will be consequences. I am doing this as a favor to Dumbledore, but this room and this freedom is a privilege, and it can be taken away," he warns.

With those words, Snape turns and strides out of the room, leaving Harry in her newfound oasis.

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