The Cupboard Under the Stairs

Unusual powers were at play on this warm summer night. They centered around a small house tucked away in the countryside. Had the owner been awake, he may have noticed a slight rumble vibrate through the ground, felt the accompanying wash of magic, or even caught a glimpse of the soft glow emanating from a locked metal box, tucked away in the corner of an often-ignored cupboard. Yet as it were, Harry Potter slept soundly through the night. Unaware of the cosmic powers at work and unprepared for their consequences.

—

Harry's eyes flickered open. Muffled bird songs filled the bedroom, and the dawning sun tinted the walls a cool blue. He let out a long sigh and reached for his glasses. When they slipped on, patterns in the rough ceiling came into sharp focus. His eyes wandered along the ridges and got lost in their complex web. As always, he was drawn towards a particular spot of the plaster landscape. An oddly straight line, wrapped in a circle, which was further wrapped in a triangle. The Deathly Hallows.

Harry knew it was foolish, finding patterns where there were none. Nonetheless, he found the symbol everywhere. It haunted him just as the items themselves did. He had confidently buried the wand with Dumbledore and abandoned the stone to the Forbidden Forest. And yet, a week later, there they were, wrapped in his cloak like a gift from death itself. For two years, he made countless attempts to rid himself of the Hallows. After they returned from being dropped in the ocean, he persisted. But when they returned after being burned to ash under Fiendfyre, he began to lose hope. And after they returned from being thrown into the Veil of Death, he accepted there was no escape.

Harry tore his eyes away from the plaster patterns and slipped out of bed. His feet slapped against the unnaturally warm wood floor as he dressed for the day. His wand slipped into his hand from a wrist holster, and he began to twirl it around the room. His clothes disappeared into a hamper, the bed made itself, and the blinds shot open. Dawn had given way to a warm morning light. It seemed to push back the darkness of the last job. He had just returned from a hunt last night. It was an altogether unpleasant affair. Dark creatures came in thousands of forms. Some were far worse than others and he had just dealt with one of the worst. He shook his head of the memories and continued with his morning routine.

The smell of fresh tea filled the house as Harry sipped from a warm cup. A cool breeze blew through the open window, ruffling his hair. The window overlooked a large field where a makeshift quidditch pitch had been put together. It had been a week since he last flew, and the pitch seemed to call for him. After a quick calculation of the time, he gulped down his remaining tea and crossed the house toward a small cupboard under the stairs. He was intent on getting some time on his broom before his afternoon plans.

Harry crouched in front of the cupboard and pulled the door open. His hand shot towards his broom but jerked to a stop when he caught sight of the scene inside. He flinched back as his eyes widened and his wand shot into his hand. Magic rushed up his arm instinctually, but he managed to halt the spell at the tip of his wand. He gripped the wood tightly and took a steadying breath. His eyes danced around the cupboard, trying to make sense of the situation. Inside, lying on the floor was the disembodied head of a young girl. She released soft snores as she slept peacefully. Seemingly unaware that she was missing a body. There were no signs of wounds or blood and yet, her body was nowhere in sight. Her long black hair was mostly splayed across the floor, but some of it floated around her, appearing to give shape to some invisible mass.

Harry's eyes shot towards the corner of the cupboard and found the metal box flipped open. With a strong suspicion in mind, he reached towards the girl with his free hand, keeping his wand at the ready. He found a familiar invisibility cloak draped over her. Certain that a severed head wasn't sitting in his cupboard, he released a small sigh of relief. He huffed a moment later when he tried to pull the cloak away and found it was fully wrapped around the girl. She grumbled in her sleep and pulled the cloak tighter, so he let go and leaned back. He stared at the girl, running his thumb across his wand as he thought. A moment later, his wand twitched, twirled, and twisted in numerous patterns until finally coming to a halt. He considered the results with furrowed eyebrows.

With a huff, Harry dropped to the floor and crossed his legs. He leaned forward and gently shook the girl as he repeatedly said, "Hey, you need to wake up."

After much grumbling and whining, the girl's green eyes flickered open. Small arms came into existence as her tiny hands began to rub her eyes. The cloak slowly slipped off of her as she pushed herself off the ground and stood unsteadily. She was about a meter tall and dressed in a long black dress. Her eyes were wide as she examined Harry, pausing for a moment at the wand pointed at her. After looking him over, she tilted her head down and peered up at him uncertainly. She cautiously said, "Hello, father."

Harry gaped at the girl for a moment but shook his head and pushed all emotion from his face. He coldly said, "It shouldn't be possible for you to be here. While I am fairly certain you are not a dark creature or an adult in disguise, I do not believe you are here by accident or with good intentions. If you or whoever put you up to this believes that I will let my guard down simply because you're a child, you're mistaken. Now, explain yourself. How and why are you here?"

The girl frowned and crossed her arms, "I'm your daughter."

"I don't have a daughter," Harry growled out. "Tell me who you are."

The girl flinched back and stared at Harry with wide eyes. They started to glisten, and she quickly turned away as her bottom lip began to tremble. Harry grit his teeth and ignored the twisting in his stomach. Emotional manipulation was common when dealing with dark creatures and wizards. He wouldn't let this... suspicious child trick him. She sniffed once, twice, and choked back a sob.

Harry held firm, "Tell me who you are."

The girl burst into violent sobs and Harry's resolve crumbled. He propelled himself forward, landing on his knees in front of her. His hands hovered around her, flailing uselessly. He stuttered out, "P-Please stop crying. I-I'm sorry, alright? Just stop crying and we can talk it out."

Through choked sobs the girl said, "I-I want... I w-want..."

"What do you want?" Harry asked quickly. "I'll get it. Anything, really."

"I want my father!" she sobbed out.

"I don't know who your father is!"

"You're my father!"

"I can't be your father!" Harry groaned. "It's been years since I have even had s— I mean I haven't been with a — I mean... I just can't be!" He dropped his face into his hands and peered up, "Please. Can you just tell me who you are and why you think I'm your father?"

"Because it's all your fault!" she exclaimed as her sobbing began to grow quiet. "It's your fault that I'm even here like this and... and f-feeling." Rubbing at her eyes, she held back further sobs with a full body shiver, "You cursed me with all these emotions, and I couldn't handle it anymore…"

"How is any of this my fault?" Harry asked incredulously.

The girl glared at him, face stained in tears and said, "Because you took my things!"

"Your things?" Harry's eyebrows shot up.

"My stick, my stone and my... my… my blanket!" she asserted with a pout.

Harry choked on a premature gasp. "Your blanket!? You're trying to tell me I stole your things, and you're calling my cloak a blanket?"

She looked away, blushing as she mumbled something Harry couldn't make out. He frowned and leaned forward, "What was that?"

Huffing, she looked back at him and softly said, "I'm too small to wear it…"

"Pfft," he let out as he held back a laugh. She glared at him, nearly causing the laugh to burst out. Quickly getting himself under control, he chuckled out, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

"Hmph. You should be sorry. This is all your fault," she stated coolly.

Harry frowned and dropped cross legged onto the floor. She stared at him, and he stared back. Her claim was ridiculous, but there were very few people who knew the Hallows were in his possession. None of them would treat it as a joking matter. He considered her for a long moment and said, "Look, you haven't explained anything. You say I took your things, but the only person other than me that can claim ownership of them is Death. Do you really expect me to believe that Death… is a little girl?"

"I'm in this form because of you!" she exclaimed. She crossed her arms and glared at him "I'm not supposed to be aware. I'm a force of nature itself. But when you took my things, a little of my power seeped into your soul. That created a connection between us. Then, you go and half-die!"

"Alright, alright," Harry raised his hands while leaning back from her. "Let's say I believe what you're saying, how does that lead to now?"

She huffed and sat on the floor. She tried to mimic his crossed legs for a moment but gave up and flung her legs out. She glared at him, daring him to laugh at her. He resisted the urge to chuckle but still gave a small smile. She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, but answered, "Your soul became fully connected to me when you entered the realm in-between. Exposing me to all of your… emotions. If you remained dead, I could have simply broken the connection by absorbing my power from you. But I couldn't reach you here, in Life's domain. So, our connection solidified. Your emotions and your sentience continued to taint my own existence. Death is not meant to be aware; Death is not meant to feel."

"Okay…" Harry drawled out. "How does our supposed connection lead to you becoming a little girl? And why would you even be here, to break the connection?"

"It doesn't matter if I break it now," she pouted. "What's been done to me cannot be reversed. As for my form, that's your fault too. I was going insane under the pressure of being aware. Instinctively, I took everything that had been tainted by your soul and severed it from my original being. Then, it formed into its own soul and was forced into the realm of life. That's what I am, a portion of Death connected to your soul. Using that connection, I formed the body that your subconscious thought I should have. So, it's your fault!"

"You seriously expect me to believe this?" Harry scoffed. "That you're what, some soul child between me and Death?"

"I am Death!" she asserted. "Death can't give life. I'm only alive now because of you. So, that makes you, my father."

Harry shook his head and said, "Even if that were true, why would you even be here? Why would Death need a father?"

She looked away and muttered, "Because."

Harry groaned and rubbed his forehead, "You claim to be Death, but you're acting like a child."

She whipped her head back to him and yelled, "I am a child!"

"If you insist that you're Death, you must billions of years old. That's hardly a child. And you don't even speak like a child."

She puffed up her cheeks and huffed, "I just told you. Death isn't meant to be aware. I might have our link to help me with some of it, but this is all new to me. Breathing. Seeing. Smelling. Thinking! Feeling!" With each word, her breathing became more erratic and by the end she was screaming. "And it's… it's scary!"

Harry reeled back as she screamed at him. Her chest heaved as she pulled her knees up, crossed her arms, and hid her face. She shuddered as she began to quietly sob.

Harry massaged his temples and sighed. A small part of him believed she was harmless. But years of dealing with manipulative creatures had made him wary. Nevertheless, his spells revealed nothing special or dangerous about the girl. A soft whimper interrupted his thoughts and he refocused on her. It would be needlessly cruel to keep pushing her. Feeling like the worst person alive, he groaned and leaned forward onto his knees. He crawled over to the girl and sat next to her. He held his hand just above her shoulder and took a deep breath. He let it out as he began to rub circles into her back. Speaking softly, he said, "Hey… It's okay. I'm sorry. You're going to be okay. I'll help, alright?"

She shook her head and looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes and sobbed out, "You don't believe me."

His remaining resistance shattered at the sight. He leaned forward to let his arms circle around her small form. He pulled her into his lap and held her tight, "I just don't understand. But I'll try my best. It's going to be alright. I promise."

"What's 'promise?'" she sniffed out.

"Uh… It means I'm absolutely not lying."

She remained silent for a moment and turned her body to press her face into his chest. She gripped his shirt tightly and soaked it with tears. Harry wasn't sure how long they sat there, but he held her until both her shivering stilled and whimpers quieted. Eventually, she fell asleep, still gripping his shirt tightly. He carefully stood up and carried her to his bedroom. He pried his shirt from her hands and laid her down in the bed. He sat next to her and marveled at how much she looked like him. It was easier to see her outside of the cupboard. She had his eyes. The same as his mother's. It struck him for the first time that when people said he had his mother's eyes, they didn't just mean the color. It was the shape too.

Harry watched over her for a long time, thoughts running wild. The situation was insane, and part of him couldn't believe he was entertaining it. However, deep in his gut, perhaps even his soul, he believed her. Ever since those Hallows appeared, he knew there would be consequences. However, of all the theories that he entertained, he never once considered a child. Taking off his glasses, he rubbed at his face and let out a soft groan. He needed to get a second opinion.

He gave the sleeping girl a final look and slipped out of the room. He made his way to the sitting room and made a quick floo call before dropping onto his couch. A few moments later, it flared to life and Hermione stepped out.

"So, what couldn't wait for lunch at Molly's?" Hermione asked as she plopped onto the couch next to him.

"Death is a little girl and claims I'm her father," Harry blurted out.

Hermione's mouth opened and closed uselessly. Sputtering, she said, "You- What- Huh!?"

After catching Hermione up on his odd morning, they stood over the sleeping girl as Hermione ran through what seemed like hundreds of spells. She stored her wand as her gaze flickered between the girl and Harry. With a gesture to the door, they both headed back to the sitting room. Hermione immediately began pacing the length of the room. Harry dropped onto the couch and watched her move back and forth while tapping his knee in rhythm. He wanted to ask for her opinion, but knew it was best to let her organize her thoughts first. Trying to follow her stream of consciousness would simply confuse him.

Eventually, Hermione came to a halt and spun to face Harry. She took a deep breath and said, "She's human. Or at least, every magical test I could think of that doesn't include taking her blood says she's human. She's definitely related to you. Close enough to be father and daughter or brother and sister. Neither of you have any signs of compulsion or mental intrusion, and you both seem completely healthy. However, I couldn't find any sign of the link she spoke of, but if it's truly between your souls, that's hardly surprising. As for being Death, that's hard to say. She certainly emits an aura similar to the hallows. If they're truly imbued with the power of Death, then her claims aren't ridiculous. Frankly, Death or not, that little girl is definitely related to you."

Harry pulled off his glasses and rubbed his face. Head in his hands, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees as his thoughts ran wild. A squeeze on his shoulder had him peering up to see a blurry Hermione. He slipped his glasses back on as she said, "I'm here for you, Harry. Ron and I both. We'll work this all out."

Harry reached up and squeezed her hand, "I know. I'm glad you're here. I'm not sure I could trust anyone else with this." He let go of her and ran his hand through his hair, "Honestly, compared to all the awful consequences we imagined over the years, this is a miracle. It's just so outside of anything I ever expected. I have no idea where to go from here." He gave a weak smile and said, "I'd almost prefer a curse or a monster to fight. At least I know how to handle those. But a daughter… I don't even know where to begin."

"Well…" Hermione trailed off

He huffed and rolled his eyes, "Go on."

With a flick of her wand, a notepad and a pen flew out from the kitchen. She grabbed both out of the air with the grace of a seeker and began to swiftly make a list. Harry shook his head and waited for her to finish. His eyes trailed over to the stairs leading to his bedroom. He wondered if he should check on the girl but pushed the concern away. His focus settled on the cupboard. He stored the Hallows there last night, so she must have appeared in the middle of the night. He always took them with him while on the job. They would find him themselves otherwise, never allowing him to stay too far away. The girl said she had created her own body. He wondered if she was born in that dark cupboard. Trapped, cold, and alone. Had she wrapped herself in the cloak and waited for him to find her? It wasn't a pleasant thought. He hoped she was born in her sleep, wrapped in the cloak as he found her.

Dull tapping brought Harry back to the present. Hermione was reading over her list while bouncing the pen off the page. Seemingly satisfied, she nodded and passed the notepad to him. He resisted the urge to sigh as he took in the long list.

1. Inquire about missing children.

2. Perform both muggle and magical blood tests.

3. Determine if you will be keeping the child.

Harry looked up with narrowed eyes, "I'm not going to abandon her."

"Oh Harry, I know you don't want to, but you haven't really thought about-"

"No. I don't care what it will take. If we find she has no one else, then I will raise her myself. Death or not, that little girl is related to me. That's what you said. Even my aunt didn't abandon me."

"But maybe she should have. Oh, I didn't mean it like that!" Hermione huffed as Harry glared at her. "Let me explain. I just mean, if you are going to voluntarily take up raising a child, you should ensure you are giving them a good home. Don't you ever wonder if you'd have been happier somewhere else?"

Harry rolled his eyes and said, "There's nothing good about being tossed around the system. Look what happened to Riddle."

"That's completely unfair and you know it. Tom was an exceptional case."

"Fine, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm not going to abandon a child due to the tiny chance that she could experience a better life through the system. I can and am willing to provide her with a good life."

"Fine," Hermione huffed. "If she has no one, she stays with you. I just wanted you to think about it."

"I've thought about it enough," Harry grumbled as he focused back on the list.

4. Supplies: Bed/Bedding, clothing, children safe hygiene products, diapers, toys, books, long hair care products, food…

5. Create a story for where she came from.

6. Register her with muggle and magical authorities

7. Find a new job.

"Why do I need a new job?" Harry whipped his head up to glare at Hermione.

She rolled her eyes and said, "This isn't about my distaste for you putting yourself in danger. Although, it would be reassuring to know you were safe. But no, the problem is that you travel to dangerous places where you cannot take her with you. Do you really think you can raise a child while disappearing for weeks at a time?"

"Point taken," Harry sighed and looked over the last two lines.

8. Enroll her in school or home tutoring

0. Give her a name

"Number zero?" Harry chuckled.

Hermione blushed and said, "I didn't think of it until the end, but you can't go around calling her 'that girl' or 'Death.'"

"I suppose you're right," Harry said before stiffening in place. He looked at the stairs and said, "She's awake."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked.

"I set up a perimeter alarm."

"Of course, you did."

"What?" Harry asked as he stood up. "Child or not, I'm not dropping my guard until I know she's safe. I'll be right back."

Harry found the girl staring out of his bedroom window. When the door knocked into the stopper, she spun around with wide eyes. Her arms shot out to keep herself from falling over from the sudden movement and she wobbled precariously. He snorted and said, "Are you alright?"

She shot him a small glare, "It's harder than it looks. I've never had a body before."

"I'm surprised you can stand at all."

"Our link helps," she mumbled as she looked down at her legs and took an unsteady step. After nearly falling over again, she huffed and rubbed her stomach with a grimace.

Harry frowned, "Are you hungry?"

She continued to grimace, "I don't know. It hurts."

"You're probably hungry. Come on," Harry walked over and reached down. She tried to step away, but he grabbed her under her armpits and hefted her up into his arms.

"What are you doing?" She wiggled in his arms.

"Carrying you to the kitchen so you can eat something."

"I can walk!"

"Really now…" Harry drawled as he came to a stop at the top of the stairs. "Think you can walk down those?"

She stopped struggling and looked at the stairs. She sucked in her bottom lip and said nothing.

"Well?" Harry said

"Fine. But put me down at the bottom."

"If you insist," Harry made his way down the stairs.

As they reached the landing, Hermione watched them with a small smile, "Not letting your guard down, huh?"

"Shove it," Harry called out as he carefully placed the girl on her feet.

The girl whipped her head up and narrowed her eyes on Hermione, "Who is that?"

"That's my friend Hermione," he gestured towards the woman. Gesturing back to the girl he said, "Hermione, this is, uh. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. What do you want to be called?"

"I'm Death."

"I can't call you Death. You need a proper name."

"My name is Death."

"You're only half Death if I remember correctly, so we'll call you Harath. Half Harry, half Death."

She glared at him and said, "Pick something else."

"How about Dearry?"

"No!"

"Harry," Hermione called out uncertainly. He looked up to find her looking between the two of them with furrowed brows.

"Yes?" Harry asked, frowning at her subtle flinch.

"She's a parselmouth."

"She is?" he exclaimed. And he noticed the overemphasis he was placing on "S" this time, "Oh."

Harry looked back at the girl and focused hard on speaking English, "Do you understand me?"

He received a blank stare in return.

—

The girl sat in a transfigured highchair and stared at the bright yellow lumps on her plate. She poked at one and watched it jiggle. Hesitantly, she grabbed one in her hand and lifted it to her nose. After one sniff, she immediately shoved it into her mouth and chewed. She continued to grab one lump at a time, pausing to poke at them every so often and always ensuring to sniff before eating it.

Harry and Hermione sat at the table with her. He chuckled as he watched her eat the scrambled eggs, but eventually turned to Hermione and sighed. "I'm going to have to teach her English."

Hermione rolled her eyes and put her cup of tea down, "That's how it usually goes, Harry."

He huffed and said, "You know this isn't normal."

"Yes, I know. But really Harry, this isn't that unusual either. She'll have some unique challenges, but from how you describe it, you can at least communicate with her rather well through Parseltongue."

"I suppose, you're right. It could be worse."

"What were you two speaking about when you came downstairs? She seemed angry."

Harry chuckled, "She didn't like my name suggestions."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "You shouldn't tease the poor girl."

"You don't even know what I said," Harry defended. "They were great names. Harath and Dearry."

"You should be serious about this," Hermione insisted. "It will affect the rest of her life. I never quite liked my own name growing up. Too much of a mouth full and any attempt to shorten it sounded silly."

"Yes, I'm well aware of not liking a name. 'Harry Potter' was awful in muggle school and even worse at Hogwarts."

"How was it a problem in muggle school?" Hermione asked. "That's a perfectly normal name."

"You really have to ask?" Her blank look pushed him onward. "Hairy, Harry and Potty, Potter."

"Oh… that would be quite awful," Hermione shook her head. "Then you know exactly what I mean. You should take her name seriously."

"She wants to be called Death."

"You can't name her that!"

"I tried to tell her, but she insists," Harry shrugged.

"Well…" Hermione tapped on the table. "What if you name her something related to Death?"

Harry grimaced, "Like corpse?"

"No!" Hermione exclaimed. "Like, Hel or Mara for example."

"Won't that seem morbid," Harry frowned. "I'll have to tell people her mother died. If she's named after a goddess of death…"

"Yes, that would be unpleasant."

"Mara!" the girl called out. Her plate was cleared of eggs, and she was staring at Hermione intently.

Harry and Hermione both froze at her shout. Harry turned to the girl, "Did you understand our conversation?"

"No," she shook her head. "But I like Mara. Can that be my name?"

"Why do you want to be called that?"

"I just like it. Call me Mara."

Harry turned to Hermione and shook his head, "She didn't understand us, but apparently she likes 'Mara' and wants to be called that."

Hermione looked at the girl curiously, "Did she say why?"

"She likes it."

"Hmm…" Hermione tapped the table.

"What are you thinking?"

"Well," Hermione turned back to Harry. "Perhaps she's aware that it was a popular name for her at some point. Even if Death isn't aware, maybe it has a memory of sorts." She shrugged, "It's just a guess."

"Well, whatever it is, she has a name now," he grinned. "Congratulations Hermione, if she hates her name later in life, it'll be your fault."

"She'll love it," Hermione insisted as she tilted her nose up. "You won't get a rise out of me just because you're jealous she likes my name."

"Yeah, yeah. Enjoy your victory," Harry grumbled as he perused the list she had written. "Which of us is going to take the blood sample?"

"Neither!" Hermione exclaimed, "Leave that to professionals."

"But if I show up at St. Mungos with a child, it'll be all over the paper by next morning."

"Oh."

"So…"

"I'll do it," Hermione sighed. "She's going to hate me after this."

"I know," Harry grinned.

After a fit and many tears, Hermione stood at the fireplace with a blood sample in hand. She hugged Harry tightly, "I'll let Molly know something came up. If you need anything, let me know. Ron will want to come by tonight anyway, but you know we're always a floo call away."

"I know, and I'm thankful," Harry said as she stepped away. Harry followed as she turned her head to see Mara sulking on the couch. "Mara, will you say goodbye to Hermione."

"No."

Harry turned to Hermione, "She said goodbye"

"Sure," Hermione rolled her eyes. She waved to Mara anyway and smiled, "Goodbye Mara. Be good for Harry."

She shot Harry a grin and stepped into the fire, flashing away in a burst of green.

"WHAT WAS THAT!?" Mara screamed with wide eyes.

Harry took one look at her and burst into laughter. She glared at him as he slowly gathered himself. He grinned back and said, "Magic."