Chapter 9: The Ghost of Harry Potter
It took nearly twenty minutes and a hefty amount of smelling salts for Miss Brown to come to. Remus sent Harry out to the garden with Mrs. O'Grady. He didn't want to risk the poor woman's ) having another fit. As it was, Miss Brown was still rather distressed when she woke. With shaking hands, she accepted a glass of water from Hermione.
"Take small, slow sips," Remus instructed her. In all of his years as the girl's physician, he had never seen her react so. Though he was beginning to put together a theory—and not a pleasant one at that—of what was happening. He waited until Miss Brown had finished the water and her tremors had ceased to ask: "Would you like to tell me why Harry gave you such a fright?"
Miss Brown took a deep breath. "So I didn't imagine him," she said softly. "I thought Harry had died of the spotted fever over eleven years ago."
"How did you know Harry, Miss Brown?" Hermione asked as she began to pace.
"Harry had been sent to live with the Dursleys after his parents' deaths," Miss Brown replied. "We had played together when my mother worked for the Dursleys, you see. Though I was older and only the daughter of a widowed housekeeper, the Dursleys never allowed Harry to play with the children of any of the local families, and their own son treated him quite terribly. My mother was always very fond of Harry, and I think he looked to her as a replacement for his mother. Harry took ill when he was six. Fearing for my health, my mother took me to my aunt's home nearby. When she returned, Mr. Dursley wouldn't even let Mother passed the door. He had our things packed and a pittance for severance pay waiting for her. The fat toad told her that Harry had died and that they wished to mourn his passing without any servants underfoot."
Remus was appalled. Though not a violent man by nature, he wished to see all of the Dursleys drawn and quartered for what they had done. He simply couldn't fathom why anyone would treat a child so poorly. A little boy of six could not have done anything to warrant such behavior.
"I came to live here two years after your mother had been dismissed, and I remember her telling me about it. It stuck in my mind as something odd, but now I understand that they must have used the opportunity to hide Harry," he mused darkly.
Hermione stopped pacing and cocked her head to the side. "If you haven't seen Harry since he was six, how did you recognize him?"
Miss Brown dabbed at the tears in the corners of her eyes. "Did you ever notice the scar on Harry's forehead? We were playing by the stream one day when Harry fell and hit his head off of a jagged rock. Old Dr. Slughorn had to come and stitch it up. Mother blamed me for letting Harry run wild. Though I was only nine, she said I should have known better, and I felt very guilty for it." She gave a sad smile. "Besides, I remember that unruly hair and those eyes. I was quite jealous that a boy should have such gorgeous emerald eyes."
Hermione smirked. "I thought the same thing when I met him."
"Might I have a word with Harry….or should I say Mr. Potter?" Miss Brown asked timidly. "I hope that my behavior hasn't offended him too terribly."
Remus took the seat next to Miss Brown. "My dear, I do have something to tell you about Harry..." Try as he might, he could not find the words to explain Harry's situation. His mouth opened slightly, but he simply couldn't speak.
Finally, Hermione came to his rescue. "Remus, would you be so kind as to find Harry?"
"Oh, yes," he replied all too quickly. Though he knew it was quite cowardly, Remus fled the room.
Despite the bright, cloudless sky and pleasant air, Remus felt a deep grayness in his heart. He had completely overlooked Harry's deafness and then been completely unable to even tell Miss Brown about it. Remus watched Harry examining a butterfly through the kaleidoscope. The boy had such a sense of wonder about him. It made Remus wonder "what if." What if Harry had not lost his hearing? What if Remus had not ignored all of the strange rumors about the Dursleys? What if Remus had figured out that Harry could not hear and sent him straight away to Hogwarts? In truth, Remus did not question why Severus left Spinner's End. The physician knew all too well the guilt the lord must carry.
Remus sent Mrs. O'Grady back to the house and took a seat on the bench. Harry didn't notice the change until Remus touched his shoulder. The boy smiled.
"Harry, I owe you an apology so great that I don't think I will ever be able to truly make up for what I have done," Remus murmured. "I simply hope that one day you will be able to understand me when I do try."
Harry held out the kaleidoscope for Remus, but the doctor shook his head. "It's yours," he said, folding the boy's hands around the toy. Harry's face brightened, and gratefulness shone in his eyes. Though Harry did not have the words, it was one of the most heartfelt "thank you's" that Remus had ever received, and it warmed his heart.
After what seemed like an eternity, Miss Brown and Hermione emerged from the house. Tears had left Miss Brown's cheeks damp and discolored. She avoided looking at Harry and instead turned to Hermione. "I swear I will not breathe a word of this to a living soul," she promised. Miss Brown bit her lip and finally cast a worried glance to Harry. "Please, take care of him. God knows, he deserves it."
With those words, Miss Brown scurried down the lane never once mentioning what had brought her to Remus' door in the first place.
Hermione sighed heavily. "I should take Harry home. Lord Snape would be furious if he knew we'd come…let alone that Miss Brown knows about Harry."
"You're quite right," Remus agreed empathetically. "Though I don't doubt the lord has enough fury already."
It would have surprised the good doctor to learn that he was wrong about Lord Snape's disposition that very day. Lord Snape was not furious but rather annoyed.
Mr. Jonathan Whit did not come to Severus' home that first night as the lord had requested. Instead, he sent his apologies and a short missive explaining that he would arrive on the morrow. Under most circumstances, something like this would only prompt the lord into finding someone else to complete the task. Mr. Whit, however, was undoubtedly worth the extra bit of patience it would take to wait. Lucius Malfoy, the fourth Earl of Dunhaven, had suggested Mr. Whit to him to clear up a rather troublesome business matter some time ago. Mr. Whit was a former protégé of Sir John Fielding, otherwise known as the "Blind Beak of Bowstreet," and he had made a name for himself that would in time rival his mentor's. Lucius had used the man several times for various inquiries, and all were completed quickly and discreetly. Though Severus had not taken his friend's advice when it was first given, he was glad that he had held onto the man's card.
Severus spent the evening in the study. He refrained from calling it "his study" simply because he did not regard it as such. Victoria had been right when she had said that this house was not truly his. The townhouse had been part of Victoria's dowry, and he had never felt at ease within its walls. Slumped on a sofa with a book in his hand and a good brandy sitting on the end table, Severus had a restlessness building inside of himself that he couldn't place. He merely assumed being in this house had something to do with it.
It was just passed seven when Victoria strode into the room, wearing a ball gown fit for an empress. Jade silk became a suit of armor on her soft skin as the lady prepared to do battle. She held her head high. "I am going to a party at the Marquis Laurent's home, and I shan't be returning until quite late I'm afraid," she announced haughtily.
"And you require no escort?" he inquired simply to rile her.
Victoria played with her fan idly. "Why, my darling, I am quite sure that you would never attend such an event underdressed, and I do doubt that you packed anything formal in that tattered bag of yours." She smiled, so sure of her victory.
"Perhaps you should pen a note explaining our absence," Severus suggested with a look of vindication in his dark eyes.
"Really, Severus, you shouldn't punish me so. The Marquis has been a friend to me for some time. You shouldn't be so cruel."
Severus eyed his wife with disdain. "Go, but you shall return no later than midnight, coming straight from the party. You will at least play the faithful wife while I am here."
Crystalline laughter rang through the air. "And will you be faithful, husband? Will you bed me, Severus? Get me with child before I am old and my hair is white?"
"Allow me to escort you to the carriage," he said through clenched teeth. His finger wrapped around her arm so tightly that she let out a small cry. "Do not tempt me, Victoria," he warned into her ear.
He felt her tremble beneath his grasp, and for a moment he almost regretted his treatment of her. Her eyes were hard as stone when she met his gaze. "Tempt you? No, I haven't been able to do that in the decade I've known you. All I can do is raise your ire, for I've nothing to lose and nothing to gain from you. Would you lock me in some tower? Or have me flogged? Leave me to my world—I beg you—as I have left you to yours."
Severus helped Victoria into the carriage. "Good night, my lady."
"And the same to you, my lord," she whispered with the slightest nod.
It took every ounce of his restraint not to drag her from the carriage and wring her slender neck. Mostly because deep down, he knew that there was a kernel of truth to her words. He had disregarded her the moment they wed, and after a drunken attempt at lovemaking, he had left her bed cold. In truth, Severus could not fault her for being angry with him. Whatever her faults, he knew that he was not the sort of man a young woman would hope to wed. That night Severus was quite determined to do just as she had asked and leave her to her world of ball gowns and secret trysts.
In the morning, Victoria left early to spend the day with Lady Narcissa, and Severus was quite relieved. He had no intention of speaking to his wife for the remainder of his stay in London if he could avoid it.
Thankfully, Mr. Whit arrived precisely on time. Dobby announced the investigator's arrival in his usual nervous manner and received a stern look from the lord for his efforts.
Mr. Whit was the very image of mediocrity by appearance. He was in his forties, the lord assumed, and held himself ramrod straight. Graying brown hair and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes made him look weary, but there was an assertiveness to his brown gaze that made the man stand out from others Severus had known.
"My lord," Mr. Whit began with a bow, "it is a pleasure to make you acquaintance. I have heard much of you from His Grace, Lord Lucius."
Severus gave a small smile. "As I have heard much of you. The earl is not a man liberal with his praise, and I do not doubt that you will perform to my standards." The lord motioned for the investigator to be seated. "Would you care for a drink?" he offered politely.
"No, my lord," Whit demurred.
"Very well. I suppose that we should begin with the matter at hand."
By the time the meeting was through, Severus had given a most thorough account of every single thing that had happened since he had found Harry. Mr. Whit asked dozens of questions about things that Severus may have thought inconsequential until then. The man's attention to detail was nigh uncanny. Lord Snape was not a man who was easily impressed, but he could already see tiny bits of merit in his recent hire. He now believed that he could leave the matter in Mr. Whit's hands and rest easy in doing so.
Before he dismissed Mr. Whit, there was one more subject he wished to broach with the man. Severus leaned eagerly over the desk. "You must understand, Mr. Whit, that I want to make Dursley pay for what he has done to the boy. I will ask nothing illegal of you, but I won't hesitate to perhaps….push the bounds of morality and ethics if needed."
A ruthless smile transformed Mr. Whit's face. "My lord, do you think the earl has not asked such things of me in the past? I am willing see the job through so long as the payment is fitting. Now, I will not go as far as to murder a man nor commission his death, but if you want him ruined—that I can accomplish quite easily."
"Good," Severus said firmly. "Dursley deserves whatever Hell we can make for him. Begin immediately, if possible. I will give my solicitor instructions on our final agreement."
No sooner had Mr. Whit left than Victoria appeared in the study. Her face bore no signs of the previous night's argument, and she was once again dressed for an evening out.
"Going somewhere?" Severus asked with vague disinterest.
"I had thought to attend the opera with Lord Lucius and Lady Narcissa, if you don't mind." Despite the pleasing phrasing and honeyed tone, she couldn't hide the contempt brimming beneath the surface.
"Go. Do as you wish, my dear," he told her plainly. Victoria said nothing nor did she move from her spot before the desk. She merely looked at him. Severus soon grew annoyed. "Was there more?" he demanded.
Victoria gave him a wry smile. "I meant what I said last night," she said finally.
Severus bit back a curse and rubbed his temples. "Which part exactly?"
"All of it," she replied matter-of-factly. "I guess what I am asking is: will you get me with child?"
In his thirty-seven years, Lord Severus Snape had thought that no man or woman could truly shock him. His wife had done just that. "And why would I do that?" he asked chocking on the words.
"Really, my lord, I would think siring an heir would be to your benefit." Victoria seated herself in on of the armchairs. "People are beginning to talk. Do you think I like being called barren? Or that I relish hearing how my reclusive husband hasn't the passion for me that he does for his plants?"
Disgust replaced the shock he had felt only a moment before. "You believe silencing the gossips is worth bringing a child—whom you have very little to no intention of caring for—into this world? The idea is revolting," he spat.
"I'm sure I would have some fondness for my own child," she retorted limply. "Doesn't the idea of being talked about like that bother you?"
"No," Severus replied very truthfully. He began to laugh. "Victoria, go to the opera and stop bothering me with such ridiculous notions. I will have none of it."
"Good night, dear husband," Victoria said through clenched teeth.
As Severus watched the retreating form of his wife, he couldn't help but be amazed by how absolutely self-involved the chit was. He had to wonder if Mrs. Dursley might not be more like his wife than he had thought earlier. Though he directed most of his hatred toward her husband, he had begun to wonder exactly how a woman—and a mother nonetheless—could send her own blood to be tortured in a stable. He doubted that Mrs. Dursley ever stepped foot in the stable, but there was simply no way she could be ignorant of the boy trapped inside. Was her world of silk and lace so irresistible that she could not spare her sister's son an ounce of charity? He was sure her answers would sicken him every bit as much as her husband's excuses had.
The only thing that Severus knew with any sort of certainty, at the moment, was that he would no longer be able to stay in London without risking murdering his wife. He would return to Spinner's End on the morrow and simply do a better job of avoiding Harry.