Memories: Thank you so much Sarika! Finally a fanfic that goes quickly!
Sarika: Yes of course, you silly author. You can kiss my feet—er—hems of my skirt later. For now, do the disclaimer. I for one do not wish to end up in court because you forgot.
Memories: I do not own anything except Philomel's wand and, possibly, Philomel. And let us not forget who owns the rights to my imagination, Sarika! (Possibly my soul as well but the hemispheres of my brain are strongly contesting that fact.)
Memories: A note. If the name Rosu escapes my typing fingers, I give you all the permission to brutally kill me. It's from one of my paper fanfics and has no relation to this fanfic. NONE AT ALL. So please, let me know if that happens.
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Severus had just returned from Madame Malkin's when he heard a small screech that was quickly hushed from within Ollivander's. Dashing inside he sees a shocked Philomel with a wand in her hand and a highly entertained Ollivander whispering to her.
"It's quite alright, Miss Faye, things always happen when the wand chooses you. It just doesn't happen quite that eloquently, shall we say, often. Here's Professor Snape now all I need is several Galleons and you can be on your way."
Philomel snaps out of her daze when she hears Severus dropping the required amount of money into Ollivanders outstretched palm and she quickly hides her wand in a loose seam that fits it. Severus grabs her hand and draws her outside.
"Now that you have your wand, I assume, we will go get you some books and a familiar. You will come back here with Hagrid when Professor Dumbledore perfects the glamours so as to make sure that everything will go as planned." Severus dictates to Philomel.
Philomel furrows her brow in thought and asks, "Then should we have gotten my wand, Professor, sir? Wouldn't this Hagrid notice if I already have a wand?"
Severus snarls back, "Professor Dumbledore told me to do this. Had that infuriating 'I know more than you do' smile on when he told me as well." Then he took off for the Magical Menagerie with Philomel following obediently behind.
\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/
The air inside the Menagerie was musty and warm, almost like you had stepped into a favorite blanket that hadn't been washed for a few weeks. Philomel was very nearly shocked into another outburst at the sight of all the magical pets.
"Have a look around and see who catches your eye. With luck you might find your familiar." Severus says as he shoos Philomel further into the shop.
Philomel takes that as a cue to look around by herself, which gives her a chance to think. 'Those words that my wand drew in the air, I recognize them, but from where? It had my name in it, hmm. Philomel, with melody; sing in our sweet lullaby… Perhaps it was a lullaby that my mother sung to me? But why would I still know the words? The only thing I remember of any lullaby is the melody. Perhaps I should try and look it up in the library, if I can get away from dear Aunt Bitch. I could ask someone, should I think up a proper excuse for asking.'
Something in the corner hisses out weakly when Philomel passes by. /Do you know where my mummy isss? I can't find her and ssshe promisssed not to leave before I hatched. /
Philomel allows herself to be drawn out her thoughts and turns her attention to the corner. /No, I'm sorry. Perhaps we could find her, can you come out of the shadows, little one? /
Philomel hears a small hiss of agreement before a minuscule cinnamon colored snake with infinitesimal white wings. Philomels breath catches in her throat and she thinks, 'She can't be more than a day old.' briefly. Then, she gently picks the winged serpent up and carries her to the counter.
"Excuse me, do you know where this one's mother is?" Philomel asks the man at the counter.
He looks at her and then sees the little winged snake slithering up Philomel's arm. "Oh, sorry, ma'am. We sold the mother three days ago. We tried to sell the guy the egg as well, but he wouldn't take it. The baby should only be a Galleon; as opposed to the mother, which sold for ten Galleons, can you believe it?"
Philomel stares at the tiny snake for a moment before leaving to find Severus.
"Professor, I found something." mummers Philomel, brushing a hand against Severus' arm.
Severus looks at Philomel for a moment before replying, "Really? What is it?" Philomel bites her lip, a nervous habit that she tries very hard not to do, absently and holds out her arm with the little winged snake curled around a thin, bony, wrist.
Severus stares at the cinnamon snake for a moment thinking, 'A snake? A winged snake is Philomel's familiar. Yes, it is quite little and yes, I know that she is a Parseltounge; that scene in that zoo left no room for doubt. I only hope that I never anger or accidentally hurt her with it in the room; the consequences would not be good.' Then he snaps out of his thoughts and states, "Well how much is it, and what did you want to name it?"
Philomel runs a finger over the tiny snake's feathery wings and hums, "I don't know. The man said she was a Galleon. Could I really have her, Professor?" All the while the single thought is running through her head, 'Will I really be able to have the little one? Will I really have someone to talk to?'
Severus nods at his goddaughter then left to pay for Philomel's familiar.
\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/
Philomel was following Severus absently, still petting the snake's wings, when she followed him into a store. Philomel looks up when the dry, papery, slightly musty scent reaches her. She is in shock at the sheer amount of books that meet her eyes, so much so that she questions Severus tremulously, "Professor, what are we doing here? Surely this is a mistake, unless you wanted a book for yourself." Still, Philomel is looking around at the various books with something akin to desire in her eyes.
Severus smirks at the look but frowns inside at her statement. 'Why would someone so obviously in love with books think that coming in here was a mistake? Unless, it was a mistake in the past. I will never forgive those muggles for what they did to my goddaughter!' he fumes, though not a single emotion shows through.
Instead he smiles at Philomel before stating, "It's no mistake, Philomel. You may choose any five books you wish; might I suggest one that details the magical world's social structure and laws? Provided, of course, that you feel you can understand it." When Philomel stares at him disbelievingly Severus continues, "Or perhaps wizarding history would be more to your liking?"
Philomel is staring wonderingly at Severus by this time, and a sarcastic comment slips out as a hiss, /Understand? Why wouldn't I understand? It can't be much harder than the book on British and American foreign policy that my teacher gave me to read when I fell asleep in class.1/
The tiny snake looks up a Philomel sleepily before replying, /Try both, missstresss. It can't hurt and the people who came before you were sssaying how much at a disssadvantage mugglebornsss were becaussse they didn't know the wizzzarding world. Whatever that meansss. /
Philomel nods, not even realizing that she is staring and speaking to a snake who is giving her advice. Then Philomel realizes that Severus had just told her she could get five books. She stammers out, "Th-thank you, Professor Snape." before skittering off.
Philomel is reverently removing a massive book of wizarding history when she overbalanced and fell into another girl. "Sorry! I was just trying to get a book and I overbalanced, are you okay? I'm so sorry!" apologizes Philomel quickly, swiftly getting up and offering a hand to help the girl up.
The girl looks through a mass of thick, frizzy, brown hair before impatiently flipping it back. She shrugs and accepts Philomel's proffered hand, saying, "It's no problem. My name is Hermione Granger, what's yours?"
Philomel blushes faintly when Hermione bends down to pick up the fallen books, feeling slightly guilty at not doing that herself. "I'm Philomel Faye, Miss Granger. I really didn't mean to knock you over, next time I should probably ask someone for help."
Hermione snorts before handing Philomel the tome she had wanted. "No need for that 'Miss Granger' stuff. My name is Hermione. Philomel is a pretty name; it sounds like something Shakespeare used in one of his plays."
Philomel takes the book and tries to politely back out of the conversation when Hermione mentions Shakespeare. Almost trembling, Philomel asks a question as nonchalantly as she can manage, "Really? Do you know where 'Philomel, with melody; sing in our sweet melody…' is from, then? It sounds like something I recognize from somewhere, but I can't remember where; it's driving me mad."
Hermione chuckles in sympathy. "Yeah, that always drives me batty. I don't recognize it, but it's been so long since I saw any of the plays, I'm not sure I would know it right off the bat. By the way, Philomel, are you going to Hogwarts?"
Philomel looks disappointed, and she is, in more than just that Hermione didn't know. "No, I'm just here with my godfather, Mis—ah—Hermione. I hope I get to see you again, though. It's been lovely meeting you but my godfather is not the most patient person." Philomel says by way of explanation.
Hermione sighs, thinking, 'I wish she was, this is probably the only other girl I've seen in the magical world that has an interest in books. Philomel may be a little too polite but its okay; I just want someone to talk to.' Then Hermione brightens and says, "Maybe I could help you pick out books! I'm sure your godfather would understand if I just explained what took you so long."
Philomel looks around and then nods, gasping when Hermione grabs her hand and races off to another part of the store. The little snake hisses in consternation when Philomel's history book nearly hits her on the head, /Missstresss, pleassse watch your thingsss! /
Hermione finally stops at a part of the shop which looks highly disused and there is only one other person there, a young boy who scuttles off quickly once he catches sight of them. "Here we are! The fiction section!" Hermione takes a dusty book down off the shelf and flips it open. "All the best fiction that is written by wizards and published in the non-magical world because the wizarding world doesn't appreciate them. How I wish I could read all of them!"
Philomel nods but is not paying any attention to Hermione; an old, but still in good condition, book stands out amongst the rest for Philomel. She places the history book on the ground and reaches up to take the heavy-looking hardcover. "Dune by Frank Herbert." she whispers reverently. In a fit of temporary insanity, Philomel rubs it against her cheek, inhaling the dry papery scent. Once she comes back to her senses, Philomel stops but continues to rub her thumb along the spine2. Hermione is done looking at all the books and is waiting for Philomel when Philomel turns to look at her.
"Isn't it great? I never even knew that I was a witch until I got my Hogwarts letter let alone even thought that all these people would be as well. I suppose you've known all your life." mentions Hermione, calmly leading Philomel to a more popular section of the magical bookstore, Arithmancy.
Philomel looks around, not quite interested in the other books around her until a picture on one of them catches her eye. She runs a slight finger under her bangs and traces the scar there. /How interesting. My scar is like that…what is it? Rune? /
/Missstresss do not worry about it. Oh, look, your guardian isss here. Bessst finish your busssinesss. / replies the snake, surprising Philomel, who hadn't known that she spoke in Parseltounge. True to the serpent's word, though, Severus strides up behind Philomel and Hermione.
"Philomel, I trust that you have found what you were looking for?" he requires. Severus smirks slightly when Hermione whirls around in shock.
"No, sir. But Miss Granger was showing me around, so I didn't get as many books as I would have liked on the politics of the wizarding world. Perhaps you could show me where that section is, sir?" replies Philomel formally, waving at Hermione, who curtseys gracefully.
"Pleasure to meet you, sir. My name is Hermione Granger, may I know yours3?" she says respectfully. Severus smirks in amusement and inclines his head.
"Of course, I am Severus Snape and will be your Potions Professor when you go to Hogwarts. May I ask how you learned pureblood courtesies? I wasn't aware of a Granger family, no offense meant." replies Severus politely. Philomel wanders off while Hermione is explaining the book on wizarding pureblood culture that she found one day.
\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/
'How odd. I didn't know that there was courtesies one magic-user paid another. Must find a book on that or ask Professor Snape. Hermione was nice enough but I really need to find a book on wizarding politics.' Philomel thinks as she browses through the different books on politics. Finding one that seems like it would be more comprehensive than the others on the shelf, Philomel pulls it down and places it with her other two books.
"I wonder if I should start trying to learn magic, if not practice outright?" muses Philomel out loud before deciding to look for one on basic charms and a mythology book. 'After all, you never know what might be important and it's always good to be prepared.'
Philomel's familiar hisses at her, /Missstresss, when are we going to my new home? When will you name me? /
Philomel is startled out of her book-induced reverie but answers calmly, /I don't know. Perhaps, when I look through my books I will find a suitable name. Don't speak again, I think it draws attention… / It was true, Philomel's subtle hissing was drawing attention but Philomel ignored the stares.
Finally finding two books on mythology and a good-sized one on charms Philomel balances the five quite heavy books on her thin arms, the winged snake moving from Philomel's wrist to her neck; all the while hissing about inconsiderate mistresses.
\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/
Severus finally stops talking to Hermione and looks around for Philomel. Seeing her finally, he is about to go and collect her. Philomel then accidentally trips on the edge of a bookcase, causing the books to go flying.
"Why do I always trip when I'm carrying books?" moans Philomel, taking care not to damage any books that might have fallen open.
Severus snickers, reminded suddenly of a younger Lily. "I don't know Philomel, but perhaps it runs in the family. Your mother always used to do that as well." Severus stops laughing but is still smiling fondly when he takes some of Philomel's books. "Let's pay for these and is there anything else you think you will need Philomel?"
Philomel blushes and looks down at her ragged muggle boy clothes. "I-I couldn't ask for anything more…" she stammers.
Severus scowls and snaps, "You will, of course, be getting new clothes; both girl's and boys. It is my pleasure to escort my goddaughter wherever she needs to go and to take care of your needs now that your parents are gone. Those muggles are obviously poor guardians, if you act like you don't need new clothes, when you clearly do." Severus looks down at the young girl sympathetically and touches her head before going to the counter to pay for Philomel's books.
Philomel follows behind meekly, thinking, 'Professor Snape thinks my family doesn't take good care of me? But I'm just a burden on them, they are kind enough to give me Dudley's hand me downs. True, they call me a freak and make me sleep in a cupboard but it's still better than what could have happened, isn't it4? I don't want to be a burden on anyone else, especially someone as nice as Professor Snape.' Philomel stops on instinct before she hits Severus, who takes her books and places them on the counter and pays for them.
"Come, Philomel. We shall go into muggle London for your new clothes and we shall have to revisit Gringotts to change some money into pounds. Your familiar will need to hide, because wings on a snake rather stand out amongst muggles." orders Severus. Philomel stares for a moment then obediently follows Severus.
\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/
At the end of the day Philomel had received two black skirts, two pairs of black slacks, four white blouses, underwear, and two pairs of black grandma boots for her to wear when she was not masquerading as Harry Potter. When she was, Philomel obtained four pairs of jeans, four suitable dress shirts, underwear, and two pairs of shoes which are not sneakers. Despite Philomel's ardent protests, she was dragged into an optometrist for new glasses.
They were thin, black, metal-rimmed ones that suited Philomel's thin face much better than the thick ones she'd had before.
"Philomel, I think that we should go back to Hogwarts. I don't want you to go back to those muggles when they so obviously dislike you." states Severus seriously. Philomel adjusts her new glasses, not quite used to them yet.
"That sounds fine, Professor. Will the Headmaster have the glamour? I'm not sure that I could stand more than one of those Portkey things today." replies Philomel neutrally. Her winged snake rubbed her miniscule wings against the back of Philomel's neck, hidden from view by Philomels long hair.
"I would assume so. Professor Dumbledore is rather quick on these things."
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Sarika: you are pathetic, Memories.
Memories: I'm so sorry everyone! It took so long and this chapter is only half par. Flame me on any other clichéness if you wish, but please let me know how to fix it! I swear, I'll try harder on the next chapter, but I can't promise a date for it to be out; school is killing me.
It was supposed to be a punishment; few people know how much Philomel loves to read.
This is what I do with my favorite books; Harry Potter included. It seemed better than having Philomel dance, which I also tend to do.
Okay, it's rather obvious to Hermione that Philomel and Severus are purebloods, and she's read a lot of books on wizarding culture. She is acting according to child pureblood to adult pureblood rules in place, not anything else. Later, Hermione might not be so courteous.
Take it from someone who knows; when you hear something enough times, you start to believe it. Even insults and things like that.