Letters From Hogwarts
Time Skip - Almost Six Years Later
"Caw - caw!"
Glancing up from her book from her spot under the large tree, the young girl smiled and lifted up her bare arm, giving the oncoming bird a place to land. The black bird beat its wings once, then twice to slow itself down before it neatly landed on it's given perch, squawking again and dropping the letter in its beak so it could nibble at the equally black strand of hair swinging near him when she lowered her arm back down.
"Careful, De," chided the girl as she gently pulled her hair out of the birds reach. "I'm too young to go bald. Mm? What do you have for me?" Curious, she closed her book and set it aside so she could reach towards the letter resting in the grass. She had barely touched it before her eyes went wide, snatching up and reading the writing on the front quickly as possible. Breaking out into a smile that went ear to ear, she scrambled to stand up, the raven on her arm taking flight for a moment before landing back down on her shoulder, riding her as she raced back up to the small cottage nearby.
"Dad, Dad! I got it!" Bursting into the kitchen and waving the letter like a flag, Abby squealed in happiness, causing the raven on her shoulder to squawk before fly off and onto the shoulder of the next person in the room. "I got my letter!"
"Of course you did," dryly answered Severus, not even looking up from the newspaper in hand. "You've been living at Hogwarts every year, September thru June. Did you really think you wouldn't get one to learn magic there as well?"
"But I got it!" Clutching it to her chest and squealing again, Abby twirled on the spot, her shoulder length hair flying. "I'm going to Hogwarts - I'm gonna learn magic!"
Rolling his eyes, Severus gently petted the bird still on his shoulder even as he smirked. Now eleven years old, Abby had grown up at Hogwarts, knew it better then anyone - except perhaps Dumbledore, but now she was going to learn how to properly use her magic.
"Oh, I'd better go see if Draco and Neville got their letters yet!" suddenly exclaimed Abby, startling the raven yet again before she raced out of the kitchen, babbling about getting parchment and ink.
"Abigail Snape, what did I say about running in the house?" called out Severus, and after a pause, the quickly paced sound of feet hitting the wood floor slowed down to a somewhat calm pace. Shaking his head, Severus went back to his newspaper. A year after Abby had come into his life, he had officially adopted her as his daughter, much to her delight. And at Dumbledore repeated suggestions, they had even bought a lovely cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, close enough to the school that they could spend summer holidays and some weekends there without having to go far.
Hearing more squeals from the living room, Severus could tell that one of her friends - or maybe even both - had gotten their letters from Hogwarts as well. Realizing that he wouldn't be able to read in peace anymore, he stood and shooed the raven away, deciding that maybe he could work on a potion -
'Knock knock.'
Groaning, Severus turned on his heel to go towards the backdoor instead. He nodded at his visitor as he opened the door fully. "Albus, what brings you here?"
"Good morning, Severus," said Albus as he swept inside, his bright orange robes clashing with the warm yellow walls. "I thought I might let you know I've just finished the paperwork for hiring our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor; you remember Quirinus Quirrell, don't you?"
"Our old Muggle Studies professor?" said Severus with a raised eyebrow. "I thought he took a sabbatical."
"Yes, well, he's back and offered to take the job - Merlin knows we've been having trouble finding someone to take it, what it all the mishaps," Albus sighed. "I was wondering if you could keep an eye on him, Severus; he had been acting... odd, and I worry something happened to him during his year off."
"Such as?"
Sighing again, Albus finally answered, "I think he's been doing something dark... something involving Voldemort."
Flinching ever so slight at the name of his old master, Severus nodded. "Very well, I will keep a close watch on him. Though I hope we are just being paranoid about this."
Another squeal from the living room drew their attention, and Albus smiled and chuckled. "I take it Abby got her letter?"
"How could you tell?"
Another thunder of footstep, and Abby raced back into the kitchen, her smile bright and wide. "Draco and Neville got their letters this morning!" she said happily, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "They're both going to Diagon Alley this weekend - can we go, please Daddy? Please?"
"I don't believe I have a choice," said Severus with a slight groan.
"Yay - Oh, hi Grandpa Albus!" Abby greeted the older man by throwing her arms around him, acting like she hadn't seen him in weeks when it had only been a few days. "I missed you!"
"Hello Abby, I see you got your letter," Albus chuckled, Abby replying with a beaming smile.
"Staying for tea, Albus?"
"No, I best be getting back - Minerva was already upset with me abandoning my paperwork for only a few minutes." Albus gave Abby a lemon drop as she let go of him and shook Severus' hand. "See you Sunday?"
"As always," nodded Severus. It was a tradition that they spent every Sunday afternoon having tea with Albus and McGonagall, and they hadn't missed a Sunday yet.
"Bye!" Plopping into a nearby seat as Albus left, Abby held it out in front of her and stared at it. "...Dad?"
"Mm?" Severus poured them both a cup of tea, sliding Abby's just in front of her.
"We still get Sorted by the Hat, right?" she asked, sounding slightly distracted.
"Everyone since Hogwarts was first opened get Sorted by the Hat, Abby, you know that," said Severus with a raised eyebrow. "You've attending every Sorting since you were six... What's wrong?"
"...What if I get Sorted in Gryffindor?" asked Abby, running a finger over the seal that was on the top of the letter, an H intertwined by a lion, snake, badger, and raven. "Instead of Slytherin?"
"Ah." Severus understood now. Even though Abby had made friends in all of the Hogwarts Houses and it was something that he approved off, he was the Head of Slytherin, and she didn't want him unhappy with her for being in the Lion House, which he admitted he still had a bias against. He rested a hand on her head, Abby glancing up at him at the touch. "I will be proud of you no matter what House you are placed in. Remember that, and don't worry about it so much."
Sighing, Abby nodding. "I'll try." Standing up on her toes, she pressed a quick kiss to Severus' cheek. "Thanks, Daddy."
A chime filled the room, letting them know that someone was attempting to Floo Call them, and Severus groaned, Abby giggling at his disappointment. Was he to get no peace today? "Go back to your reading, brat," he growled as he swept into the living room, where he was greeted by a floating green head that did not look happy.
"Lucius, what can I do for you?"
"Are we alone?" Lucius immediately asked, and Severus straightened up, frowning. Something was not right at all.
"A moment." With a flick of his wand, the door to the living room closed, and Severus settled down into a kneeling position, wincing at the old pains that started flaring. "What's wrong, Lucius?"
A pause. "I've been listening in on some rumors that are floating around the darker circles," Lucius finally said. "There are whispers that... someone, or perhaps a group, is trying to resurrect our old Master, Severus. Bring him back to power."
Severus tensed up, hoping it was a coincidence that the Dark Lord was brought up twice in his presence today. "Dumbledore mentioned that earlier as well," he told his friend. "Though he believes its a professor returning from sabbatical that might be the head of that endeavor - you remember Quirrell, don't you? His must have been there when you went to Hogwarts"
"That strange Ravenclaw?" Lucius' floating head bobbed. "Yes, he was a third year when I joined - I don't remember him being particular interested in the Death Eaters, or even the Dark Arts for that matter. He was horrid in the Defense class as well."
"He will be returning to Hogwarts as our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for the year," said Severus blandly, and Lucius snickered.
"Turned down once again, huh Severus?"
"Shut it," growled Severus. He hated that particular rumor, that he was gunning for the DADA position every year and hated everyone who got the position instead of him. Yes, once long ago he applied, but he was perfectly content being the Potions Professor now. And who would be good enough to replace him?
"Why does Dumbledore suspect Quirrell?" asked Lucius when he quieted down.
"He took a year to travel, and he's apparently been acting odd ever since." Severus shrugged. "I haven't seen him myself to judge, nor did I see him a lot when he was our Muggle Studies Professor. He kept to himself."
"Well, it is always the quiet ones," said Lucius with his own shrug. "Still, we'll both keep our ears to the ground?"
"Of course. You've better let Narcissa know - you know how she gets when she finds out things from another source," teased Severus.
"Goodbye, Severus. See you Saturday, noon?"
"Saturday, then."
As they closed the connection, Abby slipped out of the nearby bathroom and snuck outside, a frown on her face as she headed back towards her tree. She had been listening in through the grate that connected the living room and the bathroom, straining to heard what her father was saying about their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, about He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. She was obviously too young to remember that dark wizard even if she hadn't lost her earlier memories, but she'd heard plenty. She even heard the whispers of how her father was once part of Death Eaters group. She didn't care about that, and was more worried about this fear that he might come back. That he might expect her father, and Draco's father, to come back to him...
Settling back into her spot and opening her book to a random spot, Abby looked out to the forest, where beyond that she knew was the village, and beyond that Hogwarts; she looked towards her home. Maybe she should keep her own ear to the ground...
"Harry James Potter, what do you think you're doing?"
Wincing, Harry pushed his glasses up his nose as he glanced at his best friend, stomping though brush into his spot close to the edge of the woods. "Uh... nothing?" he answered while trying to subtly trying to hide the creature wrapped around his wrist, which really was stupid to try and do, but he did it anyway.
Hands on her hips, Hermione glared down at him, her busy hair creating a strange halo around her head. "I thought we both agreed it was dangerous to that in public again, Harry. Anyone can see you!"
"I was careful," mumbled Harry, his shoulders slumping. "I'm off the running trail."
Sighing, Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, as if she had a headache coming that she was trying to hold back. "Just let it go, please. Mom's expecting us home for dinner soon."
"Alright..." Lifting his arm up so his wrist was held in front of his face, Harry hissed apologetically, "Sorry, I've got to go. Maybe another time."
"As you wish, Silvertongue," hissed back the grass snake, its forked tongue tasting the air before it unwound itself from his wrist and slipped down to the ground, bolting off into the grass and disappearing in a matter of seconds.
"Really, Harry, it can't be that interesting to talk with snakes," said Hermione with a shake of her head while Harry stood up, brushing dirt off his rump.
"Only when I can get them to stop talking about how cold it is or mice," Harry shot back, and grinned when Hermione shuddered, as she always did when she thought of snakes swallowing mice and other small animals whole. "Really, its not a big deal," he remarked as they marched up the small hill and back to the running trail, which lead through the woods near the park.
"I know it isn't, you know I don't care. But others..." As they stepped back onto the running trail, Hermione glanced around before finally saying, "But others might think its kind of... not normal."
Harry knew what she meant. That particular gift was something that might get unwanted attention. It was something that they had discovered a few years ago, when they were walking off the running trail and came upon an adder, ready to strike at them with its poison filled fangs. Harry, only seven years old, yelled at it to stop and leave them alone. And it listened. It stopped and apologized to the "Silvertongue", it was simply protecting its nest and would leave them alone if they went down another way. And then it slunk off, leaving Harry and Hermione stunned, jaws dropped. And then they swore not to tell anyone about, just like all their other "episodes".
They finally broke through the woods and stepped back out onto the park grass, chatting with each other in low tones as they made their way back to Privet Drive. Ever since the Grangers moved across the street and took Harry under their wing, he had spent every day with them; only going back home to sleep in his cupboard under the stairs. He didn't even mind that anymore, just as long as he managed to spend his days with his real family.
"Hey freak."
Harry froze on the spot as they got ready to turn into the Granger year, the sight of Dudley waddling down his own yard a sight in itself. He had gained an enormous amount of weight since they were small, and was like a small whale and a miniature version of his father. If she were here, she would have glared at him, or maybe even laughed...
If she was here...
"Hello Dudley," said Hermione, polite and stiff.
Ignoring Hermione, Dudley held out a tight fist, something yellowish brown peaking through his fat fingers. "You've got mail," he grumbled, opening his hand and letting it flutter to the ground; Harry barely able to catch it before a strong breeze tried to make off with it. "I figure I'd better give it to you - Dad doesn't want to get in trouble with them." He gaze slid over to Hermione's for a moment, and she glared at him until he turned and waddled away, leaving Harry to stare and pale at the crumpled letter in hand.
Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
It was just one of those facts of his life - Harry never got mail. He had no other relatives besides the the Dursley's that would write to him - he didn't even get those bitter letters from the library asking him to return his books (because getting a card required a guardians signature). And it was such an unusual letter, an heavy yellowish parchment with the address written in emerald green ink.
"Harry, who's is -" Hermione started to question.
"I don't know." Turning it over, Harry glanced over the seal: an H surrounded by a lion, raven, badger, and snake. "Maybe we should talk to your parents about it before I open it."
"Good idea," Hermione said with a nod.
"I can have them sometimes."
Smacking Harry in the arm and giving him a playful glare, Hermione lead her friend into the Granger house, calling out for her mother as they closed the door behind them. "Mom?"
"Oh, there you are, sweetie," said Jean Granger as she came out of the living room, a smile unusually wide plastered onto her face. "Come over her please, there's someone here to see you."
Their interest peaked even more now, Harry and Hermione followed Jean into the living room to see a very unusual looking stranger; an older women in dark green robes that covered everything from the neck down, save for the hands that were holding a cup of tea. Black hair with a few silver streaks was pulled back into a severe bun, showing off the sharp green eyes that peered through the square glasses that were resting on the bridge of her nose. A large, pointed hat that matched her robes sat with her at her place on the couch. Hugo Granger was sitting across from her with his own cup of tea, looking a little shell shocked, which was strange as well. Rarely anything shocked the man.
Jean made introductions. "Madam, this is my daughter, Hermione, and this is our neighbor, Harry, who we consider a member of the family." Harry blushed at that. "Kids, this is Professor McGonagall, a teacher at an... interesting school that she hopes for you to attend, dear."
"Delighted to meet you, Hermione," said McGonagall as she sat down her cup and rose. Her gaze moved over to Harry. "And what a coincidence, Mr. Potter, I was hoping to speak to you as well."
"Speak to me... and you know me?" Harry said with a blink of surprise.
"Of course. I knew you when you were just a babe, and your parents as well."
Cautiously, Harry stepped forward, hope slowly spreading in his chest like a slow spring. "Did you know Holly, too?" he asked the stranger, speaking his sisters name in company for the first time in years, her usually only spoken in a whisper and in the dark when he wished for her to come back.
Frowning as she concentrated, McGonagall's eyes brightened momentarily in remembrance, and she opened her mouth to speak. But suddenly the light faded away, leaving her eyes to dim back to their natural color as she shook her head. "I'm sorry, who?"
"Harry, who's Holly?" asked Jean gently as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, while Hermione and her father looked on in curiosity.
"Nobody," Harry mumbled, appointment crashing down on him as suddenly and heavy as an avalanche. "Forget I said anything."
Obviously not believing him, Jean still nodded and wrapped an arm around the boy she considered a son, pulling him in close. "We'll talk later, alright?" she said quietly. And even though he wasn't planning on talking about it at all, Harry gave her a nod in confirmation. "Please, continue you, Professor," Jean said with a smile, gently pushing the conversation away from Harry.
"Yes... Why don't we all sit down first," suggested McGonagall. Once everyone did so - Harry and Hermione now sitting on the couch while McGonagall took another chair and Jean sitting on the arm of her husbands chair - she cleared her throat. "Have you ever noticed anything stranger happen around you, things you couldn't quite explain, Miss Granger?"
In union the two friends glanced at each other, and they knew what the other was thinking - every weird thing that ever happen around them, including an incident with Harry's teacher, Hermione somehow gaining enough speed to leave three girl bullies in the dust, and many more things. Hermione finally answered with a, "Maybe?"
Smiling, McGonagall said, "Those incidents were caused by magic, which in your case has yet to be controlled and is a bit wild. You, Miss Granger, are a Muggleborn witch, and of course know that you, Mr. Potter, are a wizard."
Almost complete silence filled the room, save for Hugo grumbling into his tea, "Wouldn't believe it... bloody tea set... tap dance..."
"Magic? Well, I guess that would explain it," finally spoke up Hermione with a nervous giggle. "All those accidents... I'm... I'm a witch!" Squealing, she clutched Harry's arm and bounced up and down. "Oh, Harry, you're a wizard! You have magic too!"
"Yeah." Harry stared ahead, stunned even as Hermione continued to clutch to his arm and still bounce. It explained a lot actually. At least he knew he wasn't crazy now - that time with Dudley's sweater and his hair and the jumping onto the roof had been because of magic. Simply as that.
"Wait, why I'm a Muggleborn?" asked Hermione when she finally calmed down. "And why isn't Harry one?"
"A Muggleborn is a witch or wizard born to parents that are both Muggle - people without magic," McGonagall explained. "Both Mr. Potter's parents had magic, though his mother was a Muggleborn like yourself, Miss Granger."
"My parents had magic?"
"Yes - you didn't know that?" McGonagall was frowning now, which deepened when Harry shook his head. "Harry, did you know you were a wizard? Didn't you guardians tell you anything?"
"They don't tell me anything. Plus, I hardly see them anymore," Harry answered after a moment, casting his gaze downward.
"Didn't tell you... Well! I'll have to have a talk with them," said McGonagall, bristling like a cat. "But, that means I shall have to explain everything to you." She sighed. "As I said, you are a wizard, Mr. Potter, and both your mother and father had magic as well. In fact, I taught them myself.
"Those times were terrible, Mr. Potter. A dark wizard, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, was gaining power and followers. He hoped to take over the wizarding world, and eventually the Muggle world as well. So when your parents graduated, they married and joined a group that was fighting against that wizard. They had you a couple years later, and I can say personally that they couldn't be happier. They had to go into hiding not long after that, they didn't want you hurt. But You-Know-Who found them somehow, and on Halloween night, when you were only a year old..." McGonagall paused. "He killed them, Harry. They fought so bravely..."
Harry's mind was whirling. His parents didn't die in a car accident like he had believed for all these years. They had been killed at the hands of some sort of take-over-the-world psycho, who Harry was now imagine with a large curly mustache and a wicked evil laugh. "But, if killed them," he finally asked slowly, "Why didn't he kill me?"
"That part is a little bit harder to explain," McGonagall answered. "From what we can tell, he did try. But it didn't work. Somehow, you managed to make the darkest wizard in a century vanish. In actuality, you're a hero to the wizarding world, so famous that everyone knows your name - Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived."
"What?!" All of the Grangers present looked at Harry in shock, who flushed pink. "You're famous?" said Hermione with astonishment.
"Its not that big a deal," mumbled Harry. "I mean, I don't even remember any of this."
"Its a big deal, Harry," Hugo said, finally talking. "But it doesn't change anything, at least to us. You're still our Harry; just Harry."
As Harry smiled up at his adoptive family, who made the last six years with the Dursleys bearable, McGonagall went on. "I don't mean to interrupt, but since I have other potential students to talk to, I'd like to finish this up by say you are both invited to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - the best place around for you to learn how to control your magic. Harry, your name has been down since birth, so I have no need to ask your guardians," she said this part tensely, "for permission. And now I see that you have your letter." She reached into a pocket of robes and held out another letter. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger, would you like your daughter to attend?"
"Oh, Mum, Dad, please say yes," pleaded Hermione. "I really want to go - think of what I could learn!"
"Oh course we'll let you go, dear," said Jean, leaning over to hug her with one arm. "We couldn't leave Harry there all by himself, could we?" she added with a wink.
"Excellent." McGonagall handed the letter over to Hermione, who stared at in wonder. "Why don't I give you some paperwork to fill out..."
"Harry, this isn't a dream, is it?" Hermione turned to her best friend, eyes wide. "We're really going to learn magic?"
"Yeah, I think we are." Harry stared down at their letters. "Should we open them?"
Hermione nodded in agreement, and the two ripped into their letters, pulling out two sheets of paper. Harry scanned the first page, which simply confirmed what McGonagall had told him, before turning to the next one. "Wow, look at all this stuff we have to get!" Harry felt his heart drop. "The Dursleys aren't going to spend a single penny on any of this stuff for me."
"Don't worry about that, Mr. Potter," said McGonagall, reaching into her robes again and pulling out this time a small key. "You parents left a good amount for school expenses. You can get whatever you'll need when you go to Diagon Alley for your supplies." She handed Harry the key and turned back to the Grangers. "Ah yes, let me give you these directions..."
A few hours later, Harry was sitting in his cupboard, using the little light he had to read his letter and examining the key that McGonagall had given him. He couldn't be happier - he was going to Hogwarts with Hermione, and later this week the Grangers would be taking him to Diagon Alley to shop for their school supplies, including a wand. As Harry smiled, he suddenly released in a few hours time, it would be his birthday, and his smile grew. This was the best birthday present ever. Not only would he be learning about magic, it was his chance to get away from the Dursleys.
As if hearing his thought, a roar came from inside Dursley house, making the teen jump at least a few inches off his old mattress. Harry paled at he recognized his uncle's voice. "HE GOT WHAT?"
In the few long second that followed, Harry hid the key under his spare clothes just before the door to his cupboard was flung open. A large hand reached inside and dragged Harry out, Uncle Vernon obviously not caring that he banged his Harry's shoulder into the door frame when he pulled him into the hall. A purple in the face, Uncle Vernon thrust his hand out at his rarely seen nephew. "Hand it over!"
"What?"
"Hand over that damn letter Dudley gave you," hissed Vernon, his mustache twitching. "Now."
"No," said Harry, clutching the letter tightly. "Its my letter." He noticed that Aunt Petunia was watching from the kitchen door frame, Dudley not around, probably upstairs playing video games. She wouldn't help him, she would only watch.
Beady eyes narrowed. "Now you listen hear, boy, hand over that letter, now. Or you can forget your little visits to those people," Vernon warned, glancing towards the door and the Granger home. But Harry'd had enough.
"No," Harry said again, louder this time. "Its MY letter!"
Snarling, Vernon reached down to try and rip the letter away from him, but Harry dodged his grasp, trying to keep him away out of range. With both hands swinging, Vernon tried again. All he manged to do was smack his nephew in the side of the head, a ringing noise echoing in his ears.
"YOU DIDN'T TELL ME ANYTHING!" Harry shouted at his uncle, still holding onto the letter as he continued to back away. "I'm not a freak, I'm a wizard!" As Vernon stared at him in shock, his nephew went on. "And my parents didn't die in a bloody car crash! They were killed!"
"How-" Vernon was sputtering, his face turning such a dark red Harry was surprised he didn't just explode into a thousand little pieces. "You little brat! How did you -"
"And they deserved it." Petunia was sneering at Harry, who was a little stunned. He hadn't really thought about his aunt knowing about his parents, and now his, world. "You parents got what they deserved - that's what they got for using that foul magic. But they couldn't just die - no, they had to leave us with you!"
"I never wanted to be here!" Harry shouted back. "And you took away Holly from me!"
A hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt. "I told you never to speak of her again," Uncle Vernon snarled, and he shoved Harry against the wall, grabbing the letter out of his hand.
"Give it back - its my letter!" Harry struggled to rip the letter out his uncles fat, grubby hands, but couldn't do anything as Vernon glanced over it with a sneer.
"You think they would really want a freak like you. Ha. You. Are not. Going," said Vernon simply, he ripped the letter farther into to shreds with each word. "And that's the end of it, do you hear me?"
Before Harry could comprehend that his letter was gone and in pieces on the floor, suddenly, an owl appeared through the living room front windows, which were left open in an attempt to cool the house down. Aunt Petunia screamed, Uncle Vernon shouted in shock, and Harry just stared as the bird - he'd never seen a real owl in all his life - dropped a letter at Petunia, which managed to catch it mostly out of reflex. Then with a hoot, it flew out again.
Petunia stared at the red letter in hand, but only for a moment before she shrieked again and dropped it as it started to smoke and hover in front of her, as if it were on strings. "He will go, Petunia!" said a booming voice from the letter, and that was all.
Paling to a startling white before it even hit the floor, Petunia finally said to Vernon, "He's going."
"What?"
"He's going Vernon, and that's it!" Petunia shrieked, and with a nasty glare at Harry, stomped back into the kitchen. Vernon, properly mystified, gave him another glare before following, and soon started going at it with his wife, or at least as far as Harry could tell. So slowly standing up with a wince, he went back to his cupboard, confused by at the same time happy. He was still going to Hogwarts, just now with his aunt's strange approval.
SORRY for the long wait - and I could give a thousand different reason why I haven't been updating or writing lately, but I won't. Instead, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and hopefully I'll have the next one ready for next months update soon. Thank you so much for waiting.