Where To Put You?
Severus sat quietly on the floor in front of a set of shelves at the Blue Heron Herbary and Apothecary. Silently, he counted the vials of yellow liquid in front of him and recorded the number on a pad of paper next to him. He moved on to the next shelf, anxious to finish. This was his last daily task before he was permitted to start brewing.
This was his second summer as an apprentice at Blue Heron, an arrangement his mother set up with Jacob and Esther Fletcher, the owners of the apothecary. Mum seemed set on him taking up a trade as soon as he turned fourteen. He'd liked to have spent his summers with Lily, even if that kept him stuck at home. However, her parents ensured that Lily saw as little of him as possible by sending her on trips and to relatives. So, Severus spent his summers with the Fletcher's. Truthfully, Severus didn't mind the work. It gave him practical experience, some money in his pocket, and most important of all—it got him out of Spinner's End and away from Tobias.
He had a small room above the apothecary, which was located in Horizont Alley. When he wasn't working, Severus was free to explore the safe alleys, though he often made his way to Knockturn Alley instead. In fact, that's where he would probably go after work today. There was a book at Borgin and Bourkes he wanted to see about. As he thought about his plans, Severus tuned out the background noise of the customers and the ding of the small bell above the door as he focused on his work.
A subtle, sweet smell caught Severus' attention and he paused. He idly wondered why he smelled roses, but pushed the thought out of his mind. Suddenly, Severus' work was cast in shadow and he scowled. He glanced to his right, and his posture stiffened. Severus found himself staring at a long pair of legs as they peeked out from under a lavender dress. The customer stood on a stool as she searched the higher shelves, and Severus got a good look at her fancy purple satin heels. He recognized the embossing on the back of the shoe from a renowned shop in Diagon Alley; those shoes probably cost more than a year's worth of new school books; Severus realized. As the witch reached higher, her skirt swayed slightly and Severus smelled the roses again; he also caught a glimpse of her white petticoat as she stretched. He felt his cheeks turn red, and Severus lowered his eyes.
The witch moved on, and Severus held his breath as he sat stone still. He heard her walk to the other side of the shelves, her heels clicking against the wood floor, and he sighed with relief. Severus returned to his counting, grateful to have his personal space back.
Footsteps came from the opposite direction. "There you are!" Severus heard a voice exclaim. He winced and wrinkled his nose slightly; the girl's voice was entirely too peppy for his liking.
"Hello, Lucie," replied a second voice, also a girl. Severus assumed she was the one beside him earlier. Her voice was soft, and her vowels were short. He felt the tension leave his body as he listened. Severus didn't know where she was from, but he could tell her accent wasn't local.
"Why are we here, again? I'm so bored," Lucie whined.
"I need ingredients," the second girl answered, her voice placating. Severus heard vials being moved.
"Let me see that book again." Severus heard book pages flip. "Haven't you already brewed this Draught of Peace?" Severus raised an eyebrow in surprise. Whoever this girl was, she now had Severus' full attention. He leaned over slightly to see if he could get a look of her between the cracks in the shelves. Unfortunately, all he could see was bits of her purple dress.
"Yes, but I want to brew it again. It's an O.W.L. potion, and I want to be ready when school starts," the second girl explained.
"Oooo, you can put people to sleep with this?" Lucie said. "Think of what you could get away with!"
"That's…that's not the goal, Lucie," the second girl said, bewildered. "Honestly, didn't you read?"
Severus heard enough. Though he wanted to hear more of what the other girl had to say, Lucie successfully grated his patience to nothing. He stood and collected his things and returned to the back of the shop.
Miriam Magowan's brows furrowed as she studied the empty shelves in front of her. One lone finger tapped against her lips as she considered her options. She had everything on her list except for unicorn horn, and this was the second shop she'd drug Lucie to in search of it. Miriam was unwilling to leave without some; it was a necessary ingredient. She didn't want to be a bother, though, and for a moment she debated going somewhere else. Then, Miriam glanced down at the full shopping basket by her feet and sighed. It would be more of a hassle to go somewhere else and start over. She would just have to ask about it and hope there was some in the back, Miriam decided.
"Excuse me?" Miriam asked as she approached the middle-aged witch behind the counter. She sat her basket by the cash register and smiled.
"Yes, dear, what can I help you with?" Esther asked.
Severus paused his work and pulled his hair back into a ponytail as he listened to Mrs. Fletcher at the counter. He was willing to bet his weekly pay the young witch needed unicorn horn; the shelf was empty and Severus was in the process of unboxing their latest shipment.
"I'm looking for unicorn horn," Miriam said. "Do you happen to have any in?"
Ha, Severus thought smugly as he picked up the box.
"I think we just got our order today." Mrs. Fletcher turned around, but before she could say anything, Severus brought the unicorn horns to the counter. "Ah, ask and ye shall receive," Mrs. Fletcher joked, and the young witch laughed politely.
Severus moved to the side, and took a moment to actually look at the mystery witch as she inspected the unicorn horns. She had brown hair pulled back into a low, fancy bun, under her squat pointed hat. It was the same color as her dress and an assortment of silk flowers encircled it for decoration. She covered her outfit in a short, light gray traveling cloak. There was a small brooch on her cloak in the shape of a bird; its feathers made from purple, blue, and white stones. Small gray pearls hung from her ears, and there was a very subtle tint of color to her lips and eyelids.
She dresses like a pureblood, Severus thought idly. He'd started to notice things like that the longer he worked at the apothecary. If she didn't quibble over the price of five galleons per horn, she probably had money, too. Severus' mates at school placed a great deal of emphasis on those things, but personally, Severus focused more on how people treated the Fletchers, and to a lesser extent, himself when they came in to shop.
For all her refinery, this witch seemed rather shy and uncertain. Severus noted that she also had what his Pops would call kind eyes; and he would then remind Severus that a person's eyes were the windows to their soul. Severus often wondered about that statement, seeing how his eyes were basically black. Did that mean people couldn't see his true self, or was he soulless? In all the times Pops mentioned it, Severus never had the courage to ask his opinion.
Miriam sat her potions book on the counter so that she could touch the unicorn horns. After a few moments, she picked two from the box and handed them to Mrs. Fletcher. "I'd like these two, please," Miriam said. She then turned to the young man and smiled. "Thank you for your help." The young man seemed surprised she spoke to him, and Miriam saw the tips of his ears turn red. He simply nodded and returned the remaining horns to the stock room.
"That'll be twelve galleons for everything, dear," Severus heard Esther say as he continued to put things away and gather his brewing supplies.
"Here you are," Severus heard the witch say, and Severus shook his head. He was two for two today.
"She was pretty!" Esther declared a few minutes later as she walked into the stock room and sat down at the table Severus was working at. She looked at the young wizard expectantly.
"I suppose so," Severus said noncommittally.
"Oh, come now, Severus," Esther teased as she smiled at the boy. She saw him staring; but still Severus was very reserved, and didn't say much. The young man was always so serious, but Esther knew what would make him talk. "I wonder what she needed unicorn horn for," the older witch wondered.
"Draught of Peace," Severus replied instantly. Esther leaned back in her chair and gave Severus a funny look. Severus shrugged. "I overheard her talking."
"Well, that's certainly something. That's a fifth-year potion, right?"
Severus nodded his head. "It's an O.W.L."
"Oh, so she's pretty and smart," Esther mused.
"Provided she brews it correctly and doesn't put anyone into an irreversible sleep," Severus added with a pointed look.
Esther laughed and nodded in agreement. She frowned slightly and looked over Severus' shoulder, then sighed and returned to the front to help another customer. Severus set about brewing, effectively forgetting about the witch and her unicorn horns.
/-/-/-/
Miriam sat in an overstuffed chair in Albus Dumbledore's office. She was a bundle of nerves, excitement, and anxiety. As such, it was a struggle to keep her lunch from coming back up. She glanced around the room filled with cabinets of curiosities as the Headmaster and Mr. Moore talked. She stole a glance at Dumbledore. The last time they saw each other, Miriam was hysterical, bruised, and battered from the beating she took from Malcolm. Though it wasn't her fault, it was Miriam's most embarrassing moment to date; she was beyond relieved Dumbledore didn't mention it. In fact, there was nothing but kindness in his piercing blue eyes when he spoke to her.
It was strange, being at Hogwarts, after years of pining for the opportunity. She'd heard nothing but good things from Marcel, Will, and Remus. On the other hand, Miriam wondered if switching from Beauxbatons to Hogwarts was a mistake. She was starting her fifth year, after all, and from what little she saw, Hogwarts was vastly different from what was familiar. The decision was out of her hands, however. When he assumed guardianship of Miriam, Mr. Moore made it clear that her safety was his first priority. She heard Mr. Moore speak her name; curious, Miriam tuned in to the conversation.
"Everything goes through me, Albus. He is to have no input or bearing regarding her whatsoever. If you get even an inkling that he's meddling, I want you to notify me immediately. I am entrusting you with keeping her safe," Mr. Moore told Dumbledore firmly.
Albus smiled. "Johann, there is no place safer than Hogwarts. We will take excellent care of Miriam."
Mr. Moore nodded. "I know, Albus, that's why she's here. I want her close, and I want her protected."
Miriam blushed from embarrassment at Mr. Moore's words. At one time, Mr. Moore and her father were business partners, and Miriam became good friends with his daughter, Lucie. Through that connection, Moore kept Miriam close; when things imploded at home, he swept in and took over. Miriam knew Mr. Moore cared for her in a fatherly way, but it was strange the level of concern he held for her considering her own father had none.
Her place in the Moore household was an interesting one; Lucie was a dear friend, though at first glance one would assume the two girls had nothing in common. Lucie was a squib, while Miriam loved honing her magical abilities. Despite that large difference, the two balanced each other out. Miriam was able to reign in Lucie's impulsiveness, and Lucie was able to get Miriam to not take herself so seriously. At their cores, they were good for each other, and Miriam loved Lucie just as much as the redhead drove her crazy.
Miriam sometimes wondered if Mr. Moore saw her as his chance to raise a magical child. She imagined Mr. Moore had plans to send Lucie to Hogwarts when she was first born, as all parents do. Then, Lucie's mother died, and her non-magical ability eventually manifested. Mr. Moore raised Lucie alone for several years until he met Betsy, and she became Lucie's stepmother. They recently had twin boys, but Betsy never excluded Lucie, and she welcomed Miriam just as warmly when she joined their family.
There was a knock at the door, and a tall witch with beautiful dark hair entered the room. Her hair was in a tight bun beneath her pointed hat, and she wore a firm, yet kind expression on her face, and square rimmed glasses. Miriam knew instantly she was looking at Professor Minerva McGonagall, and her heart skipped a beat. Remus talked about his Head of House so much Miriam would know her anywhere. She desperately wanted Professor McGonagall to like her, and Miriam yearned to extract every bit of transfiguration knowledge from the witch she could.
Professor McGonagall handed Headmaster Dumbledore a stack of papers. "Ah, thank you Minerva. Johann, we should go over these papers; I'll need your signature on the Hogsmeade permission slip as well as some others. Miriam, why don't you take a tour of the castle with Professor McGonagall? You can say your farewells here."
Miriam rose and stood behind her chair and Mr. Moore did the same. He smiled down at Miriam in her gray skirt, white blouse, and black robe sans tie. Miriam would get her tie once she was sorted. He knelt in front of her and grasped her small hand. "After your tour, the Sorting Ceremony will begin, then the feast." He gave Miriam a curious look. "Is there a house you're hoping for?"
Miriam hesitated. "I don't know. I feel like I don't really belong anywhere," she answered quietly.
"Oh, Miriam," Johann said sadly. "You will fit in wherever the Sorting Hat puts you. Ravenclaw would welcome your intelligence. There's nothing wrong with being ambitious and sorting into Slytherin, regardless of what some people think. You've shown immense bravery these past few months, and Gryffindor would be lucky to have you." Johann noticed the tears start to fall from Miriam's eyes and he pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at them. "You are very kind and hardworking, too, so you could very well sort into Hufflepuff."
Miriam took the offered handkerchief as she cried. Mr. Moore was too kind. Miriam really didn't see those things in herself, but she supposed maybe they were there if he thought so. "Miriam, look at me," Mr. Moore said as he lifted her chin with his finger. "Your house will be your family at Hogwarts. Everything I just told you is true, but I won't be here to remind you." Johann cupped her face in his hands and he looked at her earnestly. "You must believe in yourself and your abilities. Love yourself first, because no one else can care for you, like you. Do you understand?" Miriam nodded. "Good," Johann said. "The future is yours, and the only person standing in your way now, is you. I want you to seize this opportunity with both hands and be the force of reckoning I know you are. Owl me once you're sorted."
Miriam nodded and took a deep breath. "I will. I won't let you down, I promise."
Mr. Moore pulled her in for a hug, and Miriam gladly accepted it. "I want you to know that I am honored to consider you my daughter," Johann said, his voice thick with emotion. At those words, Miriam's eyes filled with tears and her crying started anew.
At length, Mr. Moore released her. "You've got your wand?"
Miriam patted her robe pocket in response. "It's always with me," Miriam replied.
"Good. There's extra money in your trunk, and you may write me anytime, for any reason. We'll take good care of Millie while you're here, don't worry." They smiled at one another. "Go," Johann said as he tilted his head towards the door. "I know you're dying to see the castle."
Johann watched Miriam follow Professor McGonagall out and disappear down the spiral staircase. He sighed heavily and returned to his seat.
Albus eyed Johann curiously as his conflicted emotions played out on his face. "You're worried about her," Dumbledore said.
"I am," Johann admitted. His brows furrowed. "I should have never let it get as far as it did. We—" and he gestured between the two of them, "should have interceded immediately after Marcel's funeral. You were there, you heard what Malcolm said." Albus nodded sadly. "I can't fathom what she's gone through, but I see how his belittling her all these years has damaged her self-worth. Miriam is always trying to improve—be better—and secretly hoping people notice." Mr. Moore shook his head. "Have you talked to Josie?"
"Not recently," Albus admitted.
"Well, you should. This whole mess has aged her about ten years. She snatched Miriam up from me as soon as she was able, though," he said with a laugh. Johann hesitated. "I have no intention of replacing her family. I know she has her grandmother, but I meant what I said. I consider her a daughter, especially if my assuming a fatherly role helps her grow."
Dumbledore nodded. "It is a good plan, and Miriam is safe here with us, you have my word." The old wizard smiled slightly. "So, which house will it be, do you think?"
Mr. Moore laughed outright and shook his head. "I have no idea; I can see them all when I look at her." He thought for a moment. "Marcel was a Ravenclaw, you know, but I would put that one at the bottom of my list. She is very brave-even if she doesn't believe she is-but I don't think she puts much stock in notions such as chivalry and bravery."
"That only leaves two," Albus said.
"Right? I've never seen a fifteen-year-old buckle down and work like she did these past few months. She is so worried about being behind the other students," Johann added as he rolled his eyes. "There is a deep well of kindness in her heart as well, if you can get past her shell. Honestly, though, I think she'll be sorted into Slytherin."
"Really?" Albus asked in surprise.
Johann nodded. "Miriam's so sharp; she can read a room like nobody else, and she remembers the tiniest things about people that could be of use to her later. Miriam is desperate to prove herself. I think she wants the world to know she is nothing like her parents, so that way she can believe it, too." Mr. Moore shifted in his seat before he continued. "Plus, I know she feels guilty, about me taking her on. I think she wants to stand on her own, that way there's no indebtedness."
"Ambition," Albus said simply.
"Ambition," Johann agreed.
"Not necessarily a bad trait," Albus said, his blue eyes twinkling.
/-/-/-/-
Frustrated, Severus stared across the Great Hall at the Gryffindor table and watched Lily as she talked with Ann sitting beside her. He wanted to talk to Lily, but hadn't had a chance yet. She slipped past him on the train with a group of Gryffindors; then, Mulciber drug him the opposite way to another compartment. He missed her, but Severus didn't see any traces of that emotion when he looked at Lily's face. Lily saw him staring and she gave him a small smile and a wave; Severus' mouth went dry as his heart started to race. Severus was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn't hear the conversation at his own table until Avery said his name.
"What?" Severus asked, his tone sharp.
"Keep up, Snape. We're talking about the sorting. Think we'll have any hatstalls?" Mulciber asked.
"No idea," Severus said dryly as Dumbledore called the room to attention. Severus half listened as he talked briefly about the Hat and the four houses as Professor McGonagall brought in the firsties. He was starving, and just wished they'd get on with it. Dumbledore was always so loquacious; Severus could say the same damn thing in half the time, the young wizard thought grumpily. Suddenly, the Headmaster paused for dramatic effect, and announced that they had a special sorting to do before the first years; a transfer student. Confused, Severus frowned as a buzz of chatter rippled through the hall.
Dumbledore held out his arm and gestured to someone Severus couldn't see. Severus' whole side of the table started twisting around to catch a glimpse of this mystery person. Severus rolled his eyes; as if their stupid antics would help them see better.
"Oh, gawddamn," Avery drawled. He sat up straighter and let out a low, appreciative whistle.
Severus looked at him oddly, then turned his attention to where Avery was staring. "Miriam Magowan," Severus heard as Professor McGonagall read from the scroll in her hand, her voice crisp and clear as it rang across the hall.
To Severus, Miriam looked to be either fourteen or fifteen. She was tall and slender, with an abundance of brown curly hair that stopped just below her shoulders. Miriam walked confidently across the stage as though she belonged there, the hem of her black robe swinging. She took a seat on the stool and Professor McGonagall placed the Hat on Miriam's head. Miriam crossed her ankles demurely and Severus finally saw what Avery was on about. Her legs were long and toned, and she wore a pair of black heels instead of the standard uniform attire of black oxfords.
The whole room was silent, and Severus heard the click of Avery's pocket watch as he started the timer. Irritated, Severus shot him a dirty look before returning his eyes to the Hat. For some reason, Avery had an obsession with sorting times, and every year he kept track of each one in this little blue book. Everyone needed a hobby, Severus reasoned, but Avery's was just odd and pointless.
Miriam sat very still with her hands clasped in her lap, her nerves on edge as the Hat considered her mind. "Ah!" the Hat declared, and Miriam jumped slightly. "I knew your brother. Ravenclaw he was…it would suit you…but you seem unsure."
Miriam frowned. Mr. Moore warned her the Hat would probably start there. Evidently, there was something to be said about houses being familial. It was true that Marcel was sorted into Ravenclaw, but so was Malcolm. Miriam didn't want that association. "Please don't put me there," Miriam whispered to the Hat.
"No? What about Gryffindor, where the brave of heart dwell?"
Her mouth went dry as she tried to imagine herself representing a house know for determination and bravery. Miriam often felt irresolute, so she didn't feel determined suited her well. Then, Miriam smirked and thought about Remus being in Gryffindor. It could be fun, running around with him—at least she would already know someone in her house. Miriam wasn't brave, though, and she told the Hat as much.
"Oh, but you are brave," the Hat said knowingly. "I know all the innerworkings of your mind; it is there."
"How long?" Mulciber whispered, his eyes still glued to the stage.
"Three minutes, forty-seven seconds," Avery whispered back.
Meanwhile, Miriam continued to go back and forth with the Hat. "For your upbringing, you're no stranger to work, child," the Hat mused. "In fact, you quite enjoy work, and reaping the fruits of your labors. Hufflepuff would be pleased to have you."
It was true, Miriam did enjoy work. That feeling of accomplishment she got after completing a task was quite a high. Again, though, Miriam struggled with seeing herself as loyal. She'd trade her own father for a half-eaten candy bar, and Miriam figured that wasn't very loyal of her. Maybe, she could be a Hufflepuff? Will told her their common room was by the kitchens, and that sounded cozy.
"Oh!" the Hat exclaimed, and Miriam jumped once more. "What's this?" the Hat asked. "Very curious."
"What's curious?" Miriam asked softly. She was still trying to wrap her mind around possibly being a Hufflepuff, and the Hat had already taken a different road.
"You are very resourceful, yes. Working around your father's rules when he would punish you or take your wand. For a young witch, you've developed quite a repertoire of wandless magic. There's no lack of ambition; I see the long list, here in your head, of things you plan to accomplish. Interesting…"
Miriam swallowed hard. The Hat was touching on some very personal things that she kept close to her heart. His reading of her soul like a to-do list made her very uncomfortable.
The Hat chuckled as it sensed Miriam's discomfort. "Don't worry. I've kept all Hogwarts students secrets safe, and yours will be no different. You are quite clever, and know that toeing the line will often allow you to cross it later, when needed. Your mind is sharp, but your tongue is even sharper. I see you like to duel with it just as much as your wand..."
"Better be SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting Hat bellowed. The Great Hall erupted with noise.
Avery clicked his watch. "Five minutes, nine seconds!" he practically yelled. "First sort goes to our house, and she's a hatstall!" He drummed his fingers on the table rapidly, his excitement about ready to boil over.
Miriam's eyes widened as she slid off the stool. The Great Hall was in chaos. There was polite applause from the faculty, but there was also an undercurrent of chatter as the students talked about how long she took. Professor McGonagall smiled warmly at her, and she returned it with a dazed one of her own. She caught the word hatstall in conversations several times as she walked to the Slytherin table, and wondered what that was all about. All she knew for certain was that the first years looked stricken with fear after watching her, and she felt very, very, tired after arguing with the hat.
Severus clapped along with the other students. He watched his new house-mate as she walked to their table, and his eyes narrowed slightly. Briefly, he wondered where she came from, and why now so far along in her schooling? Ultimately, it didn't matter; she was now a Slytherin. As such, they would take her in and help her. Slytherin House was secretive and insular for a reason; after centuries of having a villainous reputation you adapt and learn to protect yourself. For all the bad things spoken about Slytherin House no one ever mentioned the good, Severus realized; the high expectations they held for themselves individually and as a group. He wondered if Miriam was prepared to meet them.
/-/-/-/-
A/N: This is, I suppose, the origin story of all my ramblings. It takes place the summer of 1975, and the 5th year for Severus and Miriam (so 1975-76).