A/n: Special thanks to sunsethill for taking the time to review last chapter. Loved hearing from you! :)

Prompt: Freedom (#337)

July 1992

They'd been back at the Dursley's now for three weeks and Violet thought she was getting close to losing her mind she was so bored.

The moment they stepped back inside their prison, Aunt Petunia had confiscated both their wands and Uncle Vernon had thrown their trunks into the cupboard and locked them inside, not to mention padlocked Hedwig's cage.

"You can't do that! She needs to be able to fly!" Harry had complained before Uncle Vernon snarled at them to go to their room and that they would not be having super.

Rather fairly quickly after that, they settled into the same routine that had been part of their lives for as long as they could remember. Harry forced to do the cooking when Aunt Petunia was too preoccupied, while Violet was relegated to laundry duty- though she wasn't allowed to wash any of Uncle Vernon's work clothes, or Aunt Petunia's dresses, or anything that could be considered important or delicate. Though, she wasn't complaining about that. The laundry load was significant enough as it was.

Apart from those chores, there was also the yard work she and Harry were forced to undertake... work that more often than not, ended with the both of them skin burned. A state that was no at all fun, when one considered Dudley who quite enjoyed hitting them on their burns. And now he did it whenever he could with his blasted Smelting stick.

And of course, there were the punishments if she or Harry stepped out of line in some way, usually consisting of losing their privilege to eat a meal, or getting either one of them clouted over the head. Aunt Petunia even once going as far as too smack Violet across the cheek because she said a swear. Although, Uncle Vernon never laid a hand on Violet.

Violet thought it was some sort sense of chivalry on his part... raised to believe that women were never to be hit, which stayed his hand. But this only meant that Harry got it double.

"Do you think there is any chance Hagrid might take us away before September?" Harry asked one night when they collapsed on their bunk-bed exhausted from a day of chores.

Violet shifted from where she lay in the bottom bunk, the bed creaking beneath her tired and sore bones.

"No. The only reason he came for us last summer was because we weren't getting our letters," Violet responded tiredly from where she hung her head over the side to look at the top bunk.

Harry too was sticking his head over the edge of the bed and looked down at her from atop his own creaky and lumpy bunk.

Their bunk bed was not one of those fancy ones with proper mattresses but rather instead the kind of bunk kept in military barracks- all metal frames with thin wire mesh holding lumpy mattresses barely bigger than a sleeping pallet.

"Have you gotten any letters from your friends?" Harry asked, even though Violet was sure he noticed that she hadn't. After all, they were rarely apart. Being confined to Number 4 Privet Drive as they were, there really wasn't much room for them to avoid each other even if they wanted to, as they rarely ventured outside due to Dudley and his goons terrorizing the neighborhood as they'd always done.

"No," Violet responded, not bothering to correct Harry by telling him that she really only had one friend. "It's a bit weird; Tracey promised she'd write and she wouldn't break her promise. But she might be too busy."

Violet couldn't find any other explanation as to why Tracey wasn't writing to her. She knew well enough over the course of the last year, that Tracey was extremely loyal. Perhaps because like Violet, she'd never been able to make friends before Hogwarts, and even at Hogwarts, was ostracized by their peers.

Except for Theodore Nott. Theodore Nott spoke to Tracey, and even on the rare occasion, to Violet. Though, even then he didn't really say much, usually preferring the company of books than that of anyone else.

Not that Violet really minded. She thought there might be something somewhat wrong with Theo. He wasn't creepy, but there was something very sickly and almost... pitiful about him. Everything about him was just so... dull.

From his mousy, straight, limp brown hair, to his pale skin, to his sad but hollow grey eyes, Theodore was a very grey person. Like life had been sucked out of him.

"I-" Harry stopped what he was about to blurt out, but it didn't really matter. Violet knew what he was going to say.

Though they'd somewhat grown apart, and weren't like Fred and George where they finished each other's sentences out loud all the time, they could occasionally communicate without actually saying anything. Like emotionally, they were still the same...

"I know. Me too," Violet responded, saving Harry the effort.

She hated being back at Privet Drive too. It made Hogwarts feel like a dream, like it never really happened.

"But there is one thing that's comforting, proof that it's all real. We both couldn't possibly have dreamt up Snape."

Harry smiled at that, looking down at Violet.

"That's true."

"I'd really love to see what he'd make of the Dursley's," Violet spoke, her tone dark with amusement as she imagined just what that might entail. She rather hoped it involved some transfiguration, turning the male Dursley's into whales or walruses, while Aunt Petunia was turned into a giraffe, but she thought just maybe Snape would do something much nastier and that involved Potions.

"Well with our luck, he'd team up with them," Harry spoke with a slight grimace.

Violet shook her head at this. "I don't think so."

"You think he hates muggles?" Harry asked, tilting his head to look down at Violet who scrunched up her nose.

She wanted to tell Harry that obviously, not all Slytherins were like that. That that was just a stereotype that people liked to make. But instead, not wanting to get so derailed, she answered more simply.

"I think he hates most people. I don't think he discriminates based on birth."

"Then why is he so mean to Hermione?" Harry asked, honestly confused by that.

Violet wanted to say that maybe it was because Hermione was a know-it-all that felt compelled to show off how smart she was to everyone and in every class, which was incredibly annoying and also didn't give anyone else in her classes a chance. But she didn't want to get into a fight with Harry when they were doing so well, and offending one of his best friends would definitely cause an argument, so instead she replied.

"Neville Longbottom is a Pureblood, and Snape is worse to him than Hermione. So it can't be a blood thing."

Harry looked pensive about that but didn't have anything more to say on the subject. Soon, they both felt sleep clouding their minds, and their eyes becoming heavy.

"G'night, Vi."

"Good night, Harry," Violet whispered back, eyes drifting shut and a smile playing on her lips as she began to dream about Snape rescuing them from the Dursley's while maybe turning them into rats.

XxX

"Girl, get the door!" was something Violet was often used to hearing. She didn't think Uncle Vernon ever referred to either herself or Harry by name. As if by refusing to give them a name, they were negating what they were or who they were born to.

Violet didn't mind so much that she was being barked at to do something as it would at least take her out of the kitchen and away from the breakfast of which she and Harry would only be able to enjoy very little while Uncle Vernon and Dudley ate their fill. But what really did bother her was being talked to as if she were a dog.

Still, Violet marched out of the kitchen, slinking away quietly and avoiding being jabbed by Dudley's stick while Harry remained by the stove, being forced to look after the bacon and eggs while Aunt Petunia served the table.

As she made her way down the hall, she vaguely wondered if Aunt Petunia ever felt like she herself was a slave, considering all the cooking, cleaning she herself did, not to mention the way she catered to every little thing Dudley wanted but pushed the thought aside.

Aunt Petunia was a bit of a neat freak, so cleaning was a compulsion Violet was sure she didn't even consider a chore. And the way she fawned over Dudley and seemed to think he could do no wrong, made Violet rethink the very idea that Aunt Petunia might feel at all taken for granted or used because she was too blinded by her love.

Violet tried not to think about how atrocious Aunt Petunia's taste in men had to be, to have actually wanted someone like Uncle Vernon. The thought of it made her shiver in revulsion.

Then again, Aunt Petunia was no prize herself. Though not so ugly that she deserved someone like Uncle Vernon, her personality certainly made the idea of Aunt Petunia having landed anything better impossible.

Not that Violet thought people that were good looking necessarily meant they were good people or even interesting. In fact, she was sure exceedingly good-looking people were probably the worst sort of people in existence.

"Who is it?" Violet called, because she was nowhere near tall enough to see through the peephole even on her tiptoes, though she assumed it was one of the neighbors wanting something, because no one else really called unexpectedly, except for Dudley's friends.

"Open the door, Miss Potter, before I have to barge in with force."

Violet's eyes went as wide as saucers and she quickly moved to open the door without thought. It was simply that she really couldn't believe the highly recognizable voice was truly on the other side.

But as soon as the door was opened, her eyes somehow went impossibly larger.

It was really him! In all his black and hooked-nosed glory!

"Well... are you going to let me in?" he asked even as she wondered if he was really there, or if she were dreaming or lost her mind. After all, Snape couldn't possibly really be wearing all black robes in the summer too, could he?

Not waiting for a reply, Snape merely slithered inside while Violet did not move from where she stood.

He feels real, she thought as he brushed past her to get inside, forcing her to snap out of it and shut the door behind him. Even so, when she turned back around and saw Snape's imposing, slender figure standing in the entrance hall and casting a disdainful look about, Violet still had to pinch herself to make sure it was real.

The contrast that Snape provided in his robes and with his long dark hair to the Dursley's perfectly normal home was simply too surreal to believe.

"You're really here," she said in astonishment after pinching her arm. "What are you doing here?" she asked with a furrowed her brows as she came to terms with reality.

"I conduct random home checks for all my students that I suspect of being abused or neglected," Snape replied tonelessly as he turned back around and looked Violet over with a frown forming on his face as he took her in.

It was then that Violet found herself flushing as she looked down at herself and realized what kind of state she was in and the conclusions that might be drawn.

The t-shirt she wore was faded blue- one of Dudley's and so long, that it nearly fell down to her knees. It was also so thin, that even being as large as it was, it still didn't hide the fact that her chest was gradually changing.

Violet had to fight to keep from crossing her arms over her budding chest, though the small lumps there looked hardly bigger than swollen mosquito bites.

As if that wasn't bad enough, she was wearing one of Dudley's old and ripped jeans which swallowed her legs up. The hem dragged on the floor and were torn, and the pants only stayed up because they were tied with a rope about her waist.

"Who's at the door?!" Uncle Vernon's booming voice called, distracting Violet from her shame at her own appearance and making her jump.

She was used to looking like a vagabond to people, she told herself that she didn't care as she forced herself to look away from Snape and chewed on her lip, wondering what she should say.

Well if Snape is here, might as well reap something out of the humiliation, Violet thought.

"One of my Professors," Violet called out, just to hear a crash and a shriek that she noticed made Snape tense and reach for his wand. "Maybe he's wondering why we haven't done any of our homework assignments. Or maybe he dropped in for a bit of tea-"

Violet was trying to come up with more absurd ideas as to why Snape would be there, when the door to the kitchen at the end of the hall crashed open with Uncle Vernon standing there, red-faced and holding onto Harry's arm in a tight grip, while Aunt Petunia and Dudley tried to look around him while simultaneously hiding behind him.

Violet would have been amused, if Harry didn't look pained and wasn't struggling to get free.

"What are you- ARGH!" Uncle Vernon had begun to shout, before yelling in pain and ripping his hand away from Harry as if his hand had been burned.

Harry, despite his astonishment and horrified to see Snape there, was quick to move towards Violet.

"YOU!" Aunt Petunia cried, squeezing past Uncle Vernon while Violet watched Snape wielding his wand with fascination. She'd barely seen him moved before Uncle Vernon had to drop Harry's arm and wondered what spell he had cast to make Uncle Vernon shout like that.

"Yes Tuney, me," Snape replied cruelly with a sadistic smirk, stepping forward so that he nearly blocked both Harry and Violet from view of the Dursley's. "I think it's high time we have a little chat about the way you have raised and treated your niece and nephew."

Violet knew, she probably shouldn't be pleased that her Head of House was such a terrorist and was bullying her Aunt and Uncle, making they so afraid that they were pale and trembling. But, it was hard not to enjoy it a little.

XxX

"Where are we going?" Harry asked nervously as Snape shrunk both of their trunks and stuffed them into his pocket while he held on to Hedwig's empty cage. Snape had already set Hedwig free.

"I'm taking you to the Weasley's, who've agreed to take you for the duration of the summer," Snape replied without bothering to look at Harry before handing them their wands and jerking his head at them towards the door.

Even her disappointment that Snape had not allowed them to watch or listen to what happened between himself and the Dursley's, could dampen her spirits. Neither could the fact, that they were being relocated with people she didn't really know. After all, anywhere was better the Dursley's, at least if they seemed to meet with Snape's approval.

"What about the whole Blood wards thing?" Violet asked, before they marched out the front door. Not that she wasn't thrilled to be able to leave, but she couldn't help wondering.

"You've remained long enough for the wards to replenish," he responded tersely, making it clear that further discussion would not be tolerated as he shut the door behind them with a snap and started walking away briskly.

"How are we getting there?" Harry asked as they stepped out and jogged alongside with Violet as they tried to keep up with Snape.

Again, Snape didn't respond until they reached an alley which he motioned them into. After exchanging a wary glance, the twins moved and Snape extended his arms to them.

"Grab hold."

Violet frowned at the instruction, wondering why Snape wanted them to grab his arms when he seemed to have an aversion to being touched, but did so after only a moment.

As soon as both she and Harry had clamped on to Snape's arms, Violet twisting her fingers into the material of his black robes, they were almost knocked over by a strange sensation. Like their bodies, especially their lungs, were being squeezed through a black tube that was airless.

It only lasted seconds before their feet seemed to hit the ground hard.

"I think I've done that before," Harry whispered as he doubled over and panted like he'd run very far, setting the cage down alongside him for a moment.

Violet held her stomach and tried to keep from puking. When the nausea passed, she looked at Snape and asked, "What the hell was that?"

"Side-Along Apparation," he stated while glaring at her in admonishment, before merely marching away.

"A warning would have been nice," Violet muttered, as Harry helped her on her shaky legs to walk after Snape.

"He might have saved us from the Durleys, but he's not that nice," Harry whispered to Violet as they walked, Violet leaning heavily on him.

"True," Violet admitted grudgingly, even as she breathed in the fresh-air and feeling her lungs expand with the freedom of it.

Three weeks and they were free of the Dursley's. Violet wasn't sure how things could get any better.

TBC...

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