Disclaimer: If, by some strange miracle, the ownership of the rights of Harry Potter happened to fall into my lap, once I finished paying for a life size replica of Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory with what I found behind my couch cushions, I would absolutely take a few moments to explain why a book like Hogwarts: A History, which was supposedly meant to provide the reader with all needed information about the castle and which seemed to contain details about almost every other subject under the sun that Hermione ever needed to know, somehow managed to omit the presence of House Elves entirely from its text (especially odd considering that House Elves are not considered to be something to hide, but rather, a status symbol), to the point that Hermione was positively shocked by their presence.
Pre-Chapter Note: Once again, I'm sorry for the delay guys. I'd blame it on still moving, but mostly I've spent the last month obsessively writing a fanfiction for the online superhero novel Worm, by Wildbow. I've been so obsessed with writing that in my free time that I've gotten to just under a hundred thousand words since the last few days of September. You can find what is done of that so far in my profile, if you're interested. So yeah, sorry for making you wait.
Also, a slightly major deviation from canon in this chapter, as far as 'name changing' goes. You'll know it when you get to it. It was the only way I could think of to make the plot continue properly without giving TOO much information to Daphne too quickly. Hopefully no one minds all too much.
Chapter Eleven
The shock that Daphne felt upon hearing that question, the feeling of her carefully crafted lies and facade crumbling in on top of her, not due to a mistake on her part, but all because of a thrice damned magic map, was nearly powerful enough to send her physically reeling. Her mouth opened, but no words were forthcoming.
What should she say? What could she say? They clearly knew the truth. She couldn't very well laugh it off, especially not now that they'd seen her reaction. If they ever would have accepted some vague and made up excuse about the map picking up some crude connection to the girl who had (supposedly) ded, they wouldn't anymore. Her chance at fixing Harry Potter's death, at taking care of this situation before the rest of the wizarding society found out about it, was vanishing right before her eyes.
And yet. Some inner, coldly rational part of herself that was still functioning in spite of the rest of her panic. They came to me for an explanation, rather than going to any of the professors. Did that mean that they wouldn't blow her cover entirely?
"Well," Fred spoke up once she peeked at them again to try to judge their actual moods a little better. "At least we know why they call the little Greengrass snake an ice princess, don't we, George?"
The other Weasley twin nodded. "That we do, Fred. Anyone else that we called out like this, they'd be panicking."
"What are you talking about?" Daphne blurted, unthinkingly. "I am panicking."
The two boys gave her doubtful looks. It was George who spoke. "Judging from your expression, little snake, you're 'mildly perturbed'."
Fred's head bobbed in agreement. "Those eyes say 'oh I think I forgot to do my Transfiguration homework last night and now Professor McGonagall is going to yell at me', not 'my dastardly plan to replace Harry Potter is going up in smoke, curse those brilliant, handsome, powerful wizard twins'."
"It's not a dastardly plan!" Daphne exclaimed, her voice rising an octave. "I'm trying to help!" She was blushing a little. It wasn't that she always meant to hide her internal reactions and emotions. It was just... habit at that point. Even when she was panicking on the inside, apparently that didn't really translate into much outward expression.
Something about the way that the Weasley boy winked at her then told Daphne that she'd just been manipulated into admitting that she really was Daphne, as their little artifact claimed. "Well then," Fred gestured for her to go on. "Now that we've avoided all the boring denials and whatnot, why don't you tell us what your not-dastardly plan really is?"
"But for the record, your reaction really was subdued." George put in. "You have a remarkable bluff face, little snake. We should include you in more of our games and plots."
"Assuming," Fred amended for his brother. "That you convince us you aren't the bad sort of troublemaker. We'd sure like to hear the explanation for why you took over Harry's life. It happened when you supposedly died then, did it?"
Looking between both boys, Daphne finally heaved out her breath in a long sigh and nodded. "Okay, fine. I'll tell you what happened. But are you sure this is private enough?" Rather than answer, the two boys simply looked at the map pointedly, and she barely restrained the urge to smack her own forehead. "Right, got it. You'd know if anyone was close enough to overhear."
"Knew she'd come to it on her own." George said, rather lightly given the situation, Daphne thought. "She's a bright one."
After taking another few moments to gather her thoughts, Daphne began to explain. "Okay, it started when I went to Quirrel's office to ask about my final test grade..."
She explained what had happened, the truth about Harry's death. When she got to that part, both of the twins blanched, turning somber in spite of their nature. Even they wouldn't make jokes at such a revelation. Daphne was pretty sure that neither had really known Harry that well, but their younger brother was his best friend (even if she wasn't exactly keeping up with that as well as she might), and he had been on their Quidditch team. So the grief that they felt was personal as much as it was for the very idea of the boy-who-lived. In a single sentence, she had taken away both the boy they knew who was their brother's friend, and the legend that was the boy who defeated the greatest evil of the modern era.
Still, Daphne pressed on. She told the boys what she had done, the change she had made and why she had made it.
"Well, now things make a lot more sense." George spoke once she had finished. Face far more grave than she was accustomed to seeing from either of the Weasley twins, he still managed a weak smile. "We sorta thought little Harry might be going crazy, on account of how he—ahh- you've been acting paranoid this year. Talking like you need to prepare for battle, quitting the team to take extra lessons from that Auror trainee girl..."
"It was either that," Fred added. "Or Harry was maturing way too fast and had an unhealthy interest in older witches." This was accompanied by a wink, and Daphne found her face growing slightly red.
"So you really think you can bring old Harry back to life?" George showed mercy on her by changing the subject. "I mean, you don't expect to carry on this charade forever. That might get a bit... complicated."
Daphne nodded slowly. "If I can find the stone that Quirrel used to bring... you-used-to-know-who back to life, then it should be able to bring Harry back too, right? I mean, they were dead for a lot longer than Harry will have been."
The two boys exchanged glances before nodding together. "Fair enough." Fred said. "Magic can do a lot of things."
"Never heard of it bringing the dead back to life." George amended. "At least, not before this whole thing last year."
"But if that's what you're gonna try," Fred went on, with a glance toward his brother for confirmation.
"We'll help." George finished, returning his brother's look. "Besides, you could probably use some pointers in pulling off this whole Harry Potter thing."
"I think I'm doing okay, all things considered." Daphne pointed out, a little defensively.
The two boys looked at each other, and then made so-so gestures with their hands. "Ehhhh."
"Oh come on." The twelve-year old girl protested. "You thought I was a boy until you saw me on that map thing. Where did you get that anyway?" She eyed the parchment with interest.
Fred stowed the map after whispering something to it, putting a finger to his lips. "That's our secret, little snake. Maybe we'll show you sometime. Right now, ahhh..." He glanced to his twin.
"Now," George continued confidently. "Fred and me, we're about to give you all the pointers you need to be an even more convincing Harry Potter. Not that everyone's got you pegged or anything, but you see... when Harry Potter, who doesn't know anything about Slytherin 'cept for what Ickle Ronnie told him starts telling Ginny all about how the House isn't evil, well, we wondered."
"You didn't figure out the truth though." Daphne pointed out, mildly.
"True." The boys nodded at that before Fred spoke. "But then, we were just glad someone made Ginny stop being sad so that we didn't have to. Someone else might've paid more attention. Ron's just completely beside himself, trying to work out if the bad old snakes put his best mate under some kind of curse. He was even bothering Hermione with it until she told him that just because you have different interests and don't hate all Slytherins doesn't mean you were put under a spell."
"So did he stop?" Daphne wondered.
"Nah." George grinned. "Now he kinda thinks you were both put under a spell."
Poor Ron. Daphne thought with a sigh. She really was doing a bad job of being his best friend. No wonder he'd rather believe there was some kind of spell involved. Still, she hoped he didn't try to involve anyone else.
Fred changed the subject. "Don't worry about him. He's just got strong opinions about things. He'll come around. Right now, we'll help you work out what the real Harry shouldn't know."
George continued. "After that, then we'll see about this stone thing."
"George and I, we've discovered over our long and productive years," Fred went on. "That two heads are always better than than one. Particularly our two heads."
"So," George finished with a grin. "Adding our two heads to your one head should solve every problem you've got."
"You have to keep this secret." Daphne pressed. "From everyone. You can't tell anybody about me, not even your family."
The two boys exchanged glances once more, before nodding. Fred said offhand, "We do have experience keeping secrets."
"Especially from our family." George agreed.
"Okay..." Uncertain still, utterly unaccustomed to being so reliant on someone else keeping her secrets, at being so vulnerable, Daphne finally nodded. It was the best she could hope for. "But if you really want to help, what I need is to use that map you have. Whoever's been running around in the library, disappearing into that restroom, and threatening who knows who else, if I had the map I could watch for them and know who it is. And maybe even where they go."
The twins looked to one another, seeming to exchange an entire silent conversation with only their eyes, before they finally nodded. "Right." Fred agreed. "We'll show you how to use it then. But only borrowing, mind you."
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A month earlier, on the first night of school.
Not much had changed in the years since Sirius Black had last been within the halls of Hogwarts. Even in his dog form, the escaped prisoner could tell that much as he trotted through the halls.
Oh sure, there were new names in the trophy cases, some of the paintings had changed or moved, some entire rooms had been relocated, and so on. But the feel of the school, the... sense of it, that was completely the same. It made him nostalgic for the old days, the days when he, Remus, James, and... Peter. The last thought drew an audible snarl from the black hound, making the woman in a nearby painting gasp in fright and fan herself while hiding behind the oak tree she had been posing next to.
Peter, that coward, that sniveling traitor. He was worse than Snivelous, because at least that greasy haired, lying little snot hadn't pretended to be their friend. He didn't get poor Lily and James murdered after they trusted him, then make his other supposed friend take the fall for it.
If Sirius ever got his teeth onto Peter, the slimy worm wasn't going to survive the experience.
But right now, he had other things to worry about. Namely, he needed to be able to move around this school without fearing that Dumbledore or some other industrious witch or wizard was going to use one of the multiple methods of tracking the inhabitants (where was that map, for example?) within and notice his name.
With the welcoming feast and Sorting happening in the Great Hall, this was going to be his very best chance to pull this off. He needed to use the time of the Sorting itself to get into position, and then the time of the feast to do what he needed to do. It was the only time that he could be absolutely certain that the headmaster's attention was going to be diverted.
Part of Sirius wondered if there was some way that he could warn Dumbledore about the return of he who must not be named, about the secret defection of the Dementors and the fact that the human guards in the prison had, as a whole, been either replaced via Polyjuice or Imperiused, so that the supposed wizard prison could be used as a base for the evil wizard and his... or her minions.
Damn it, why couldn't he remember? Sirius was absolutely certain that he'd known who the evil wizard or witch had been as recently as the train. Then it had gone off the tracks and into the water, he'd had to briefly change back into human form to pull poor, unconscious Sophie clear of the wreckage before resuming his dog shape, and in all the confusion, he'd stopped thinking about his mission. Then, just minutes earlier when he slipped away from the group before he could be rounded up with the other pets and familiars, he'd found that he couldn't remember the name for the life of him.
A spell. It had to be a spell, but was it targeting only him, or everyone? The fact that he couldn't ask anybody was frustrating enough to make him snarl again, startling a knight in another painting into challenging him to a duel.
Ignoring that, Sirius eventually found his way up to the gargoyle that blocked the stairwell leading up to the Headmaster's office. Looking around for a likely spot, he found a recess in a wall where a heavy torch stood. Cramming his canine body into the shadows at the base of this recess was difficult, but he managed it. Then he simply lay as still as possible, listening carefully for anyone approaching.
He'd done this before, as a student, in order to sneak into the Headmaster's office for a prank. He just hoped that it would work this time as well. For once, Sirius was fervently hoping that his reputation had not, in fact, preceded him or caused any kind of change.
Eventually, once he had been waiting for long enough to almost doze off, his canine ears picked up the sound of someone walking rather hurriedly down the hall toward him. Shrinking back as far as he could and scrunching down, Sirius recognized the scent of Minerva McGonagall. She passed by the area he was hidden in without noticing him, carrying the snoring Sorting Hat in one hand.
At the gargoyle, McGonagall looked both ways, but Sirius was still safely hidden out of sight. In any case, she had no reason to believe anyone was nearby to overhear anyway, since all the students were at the feast. Clearing her throat rather primly, the elderly witch spoke to the statue. "Sherbert Lemon." At the password, the gargoyle moved aside and granted access. Still, Sirius stayed where he was. McGonagall wouldn't be long. She'd want to get back to the feast as soon as possible.
Sure enough, within a few moments he could hear the click-clack of the Deputy-Headmistress's shoes on the stone floor. This time, he shrank back even more, trying as much as he could to literally melt into the shadows.
When McGonagall passed by him without incident, Sirius waited a ten count for her footsteps to fade away entirely. Then he bounded out of his hiding spot and ran to the gargoyle. There, he took a moment to change his shape back to human, nearly falling over from how unaccustomed he was to standing. Gripping the wall to hold himself up, he leaned close and hissed the password to the gargoyle. Once again, it obediently shifted out of the way.
Taking the moving stairs two at a time, Sirius rushed up, but stopped before he would have reached the top. He remembered the paintings. From his crouched position on the edge of the top step, he gingerly peered through the doorway, holding his breath until the first of the many portraits came into view. Its inhabitant, some long forgotten former headmaster, was snorting away in an armchair. Gradually, he let more of the paintings come into view. All of them were either sleeping, or had apparently moved to other paintings for a better view of the welcoming festivities.
Gradually, and extremely carefully, Sirius shrank into his dog form once more. He crept paw over paw into the room, keeping an eye on the slumbering portraits. Eventually, he reached the shelf where McGonagall had placed the Sorting Hat. Leaning up, he caught the worn brim of the hat in his teeth, turned, and scampered back out of the office and down the stairs.
In the corridor outside the office, Sirius kept running until he found a nearby empty classroom that would suit his purposes. There, he let the hat drop from his mouth before shifting back into his human form and picking it up once more.
Taking a breath, the falsely imprisoned wizard put the hat on his head, then waited for a moment.
"Hhhhhmmmmm?" The hat mumbled to itself. "It's not time for another Sorting already, is it? A latecomer, perhaps? A—ah. Ah, I see. Well no, you're not very late at all, are you?"
"I'm also not a murderer, or a traitor." Sirius hissed.
"Well of course not." The hat retorted. "That much is obvious. But I'm afraid if you're expecting me to testify on your behalf, it doesn't quite work that way. I'm not allowed to tell anyone the specifics of what I read in the heads I'm placed on. Not even if I want to. And they wouldn't accept the testimony of a hat in any case."
"That's not why I'm here." Sirius said sharply. It would have been useful, but he'd already known that it wouldn't work that way. "I need something else."
"Aha. Yes, I see." The Hat replied as it sorted through his thoughts. "You know that there is a cost to such a thing. Beginning with actually stating your desires. Just so there aren't any mistakes."
Rolling his eyes, Sirius gave a short, impatient nod. "Yes, yes, I want you to change the name that Hogwarts knows me as." He'd had the hat do the same thing years ago, making the school know him as Padfoot, along with the new names for the rest of the Marauders. He'd had no doubt that, in the years since, Dumbledore had undone that particular change.
"The same name as before, then?" The Hat asked, rather curiously.
"No. The girl calls me something else." Sirius wasn't sure where the girl had come up with the name, but it wouldn't do for the castle (and thus any magical means of knowing the inhabitants, such as the map that he and the others had made) to see him listed as Padfoot when the girl who supposedly owned him called him something completely different. "It's Valefar."
"Yes, so I see, so I see." The hat scrunched up a little. "You are quite aware of the cost for such an effort of magic."
"I remember." Sirius confirmed. "Last time I let you take the memory of my first kiss to get the name changed."
"And what will you be offering this time, hmmm?"
In spite of himself, Sirius hesitated. As important as it was that he remain undetected, giving up an important, powerful memory was hard. Especially now. The last ten years of his life had been filled with such misery, that holding onto his memories had been the only way he survived. He didn't want to lose any of them.
Which was the point, really. There had to be a cost to using such magic. Finally, he shook off the doubt. This was for James and Lily, and for not-so-little-anymore Harry. It was worth losing a powerful memory or two if he could do what needed to be done. "Last time, Hat, I gave you the memory of my first kiss. This time, I offer something far more special."
After a moment, the Hat made a noise of discovery. "This memory? Truly, you would sacrifice it?"
Swallowing, Sirius nodded, reaching up to keep the hat on his head. "The more powerful and important the memory expended to fuel the magic, the harder it is to detect or undo, right?"
"Correct. That should do nicely. If you're quite prepared? One powerful memory, in exchange for the name 'Valefar'."
Sirius was silent for a moment. For one, final time, he wanted to hold on to the memory that he was giving up. Not that holding onto it meant much. Not now that it had been so long. They had clearly moved on without him, and it was better that he not even know, that he not remember what he had lost.
"I'm ready."
It was over in an instant, and the memory was gone. Or at least, he assumed it was. He couldn't remember anything about what he had given up, what had been powerful enough of a memory to exchange for a Hogwarts name change.
Oh well, it couldn't have been that important.
"It's done then?" He questioned, just to be sure.
"Indeed." The Hat confirmed. "Your name upon any check shall appear to be 'Valefar'."
Sighing in relief that he'd managed it without incident so far, Sirius started to remove the hat from his head, so that he could return it before the feast ended.
Before he could, the Hat interrupted his thoughts. "Quite funny, to be used twice on the same night for such efforts."
Freezing, Sirius frowned. "Twice? When did someone else do this?"
The Hat hemmed and hawed for a moment over telling him, before finally saying, "I suppose that much doesn't violate the laws that bind me. It was while the students were being, ahh, fished out of the lake. The Headmaster was quite occupied with that, and your... predecessor, we'll call them, used that to effect a name change of their own."
"Who?" Sirius demanded. "Who changed their name, and what did they change it to?"
The Hat made a scolding noise at that. "Uh uh uh. I'm not allowed to tell you details like that. After all, if I could, then I'd have to tell the Headmaster about our little visit."
Growling under his breath, though it wasn't nearly as effective in his human form, Sirius finally sighed. "What can you tell me about them, then? Anything?"
After making a few indecisive sounds, the Hat eventually decided, "I can say that the memory they sold was not their own, but that the price was agreed upon by the memory holder."
"How does that help me?" Sirius complained. "They stole someone's memory... but the person agreed—huh?"
"That, I'm afraid, is the best that I can do for you. More than I should have, really." The Hat sighed regretfully. "Now, this has been quite an exciting evening, but you'll have to put me back where you found me, or this enterprise of yours to protect your godson, repair your name, punish the true betrayer, and set things right, will be over before it truly starts."
Needing no further encouragement, Sirius marched to the door. He peeked out and looked both ways, and upon finding the coast still clear, hurried back to the gargoyle to put the hat away. Then he'd return to his dog form and make his way into the Great Hall, looking for all the world like a simple, friendly dog who had wandered off and explored this wonderful new place.
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Present Day
"Anything yet?" Sophie asked, lying on her back behind the statue of the knight in the corridor just down from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Valefar was lounging at her side. Surprisingly, he seemed to understand the need to sit and wait. He might have even been better at it than she was. Sophia preferred to do things, not just sit and wait.
It had been two weeks since she'd run into the boy right around here, when he'd told her about his evil wizard hiding in the school theory. Somehow, Sophie had let herself be convinced to help him stake out the bathroom. She still thought it was dangerous, but Harry had been right when he'd pointed out that if there really was a dark wizard or witch hiding out in the school, not knowing about it wasn't going to make them any safer.
"Nothing." Harry replied simply from where he sat with his legs folded under him, head resting against the wall. "Just like the last time you asked. And just like the last time, I'll say again, I'll tell you if anything changes." Contrary to his actual words, Harry's voice was perfectly calm. The boy never really seemed to get angry. He was pretty much always perfectly in control of himself. It was a bit unnerving at times.
First of all, he definitely wasn't anything like Sophie had expected. She hadn't actually paid a lot of attention to him the previous year, since he was forever being smothered by either his adoring fans who wanted to be close to the boy who had supposedly saved the entire wizarding world, or hidden away with his two best friends. In First year, being alone with Harry Potter for any length of time when your name wasn't Granger or Weasley had been utterly unheard of.
But now, this year, Harry didn't seem quite so close to the other two. Oh, he went through the motions. He ate with them, sat with them at class (for the most part), and carried on that way. But it didn't seem like his heart was in it. He hadn't told them about this little mission of theirs, for example. That much she knew. Not to mention the fact that he had quit the Quidditch team. And he was far from the wide-eyed, curious little boy that she'd caught glimpses of the previous year.
Harry Potter had changed, and changed a lot. Clearly the death of that Greengrass girl at the end of last year had done a number on him. He was more somber, more patient, and much more devoted to his schoolwork, from what she could remember.
In the days that had passed since Harry's duel with Hermione, he and Sophie had talked a fair bit, considering how much time they had spent just sitting out here pretty much every early morning, just hoping to catch a glimpse of this mystery bad guy. Not that Harry ever really said much about himself, though they did talk about the homework, the spells they were learning, what they could do if they did see anything, and much, much more about Sophie's own life. She told him things she'd never intended to, things about the loss of her brother (temporary loss, she stubbornly insisted to herself), and how she blamed herself. The boy was surprisingly easy to talk to. He listened, and didn't seem to judge. In fact, he listened so well, without interrupting, that she might have thought that he wasn't really listening at all. But he asked questions at the right intervals, proving he was in fact paying attention.
Harry Potter just happened to be a very good listener. It almost reminded her of Professor Bill in a way, and she idly wondered if the two might be related in some distant way. After all, Professor Bill was a Weasley, and there were so many of them...
"So," She finally spoke again after several minutes of quiet. "You're really never gonna tell me where you got that magic map?"
Harry was quiet at first, before he shrugged next to her. "It's still private. I don't want to tell secrets that aren't mine to tell. They still don't know that I'm involving you at all?"
"Is that more because you're protecting me from them, or them from me?" Sophie wondered.
Harry glanced to her, and Sophie noted not for the first time how... pretty the boy's facial features were. He looked far more delicate than she would have expected the savior of the wizarding world to be. Clearly, he'd inherited a lot from his mother.
She raised an eyebrow when the boy didn't say anything, and prompted. "What?"
"It's about compartmentalizing." Harry finally said. "If they don't know about you, and you don't know about them, then neither of you can give up the other if anything bad happens. Like us getting caught."
After a long pause, Sophie noted, "You're a really weird kid, Harry Potter."
Any response that Harry might have had to that, was interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening down the hall. Someone was coming out and they'd never had any warning that anyone had gone in to begin with.
Eyes widening, Sophie looked toward Harry. The boy glanced at the map, frowned, and then grabbed the cloak at his side. He moved closer to her and swept it over them both, getting as much of Valefar as possible as well.
The two of them, hidden by the invisibility cloak (which itself was amazing and she wanted one for Christmas), stared as the person approached and began to pass them by. It was a tall, probably male, figure, though his face was turned away to look at the opposite wall. He strode away from their position, his cloak swishing the floor behind him with each step.
When the man was gone, Sophie poked the boy. "That wasn't much of a warning."
"He must have come up out of some secret entrance that isn't on this map." Harry said slowly, removing the cloak before staring after the way the man had gone.
"Well at least we have an answer now about who this bad guy is?" She offered tentatively.
Harry sighed. "Yes and no."
That made Sophie frown. "What do you mean? You saw him on the map, didn't you? Who was it?"
"I mean..." Harry held the map up so that she could see the name on the dot that was walking away from them.
Staring at the dot, Sophie blurted, "Who the hell is Severus Snape?"
Notes
To So You Want To Be An Author – Thank YOU for all the kind words. It really does help me feel inspired to continue, though I would have anyway, regardless. I just love the story and the characters, even if my muse dragged me off to obsess on something else for a bit.
Darkest643 – I hope the conversation with the twins was portrayed as well as you were hoping it would be. And yes, I was avoiding the incessant, constant twin-speak on purpose, trying to make them talk more like real people. I know twins who are annoyed by that depiction.
Lordlyhour – Hope this was thick enough plot for you. ;)