“Could it not just be that I enjoy watching the fireworks?” they were like spells. In a way. Explosive colorful spells that just constantly missed a target and could be dangerous if handled without caution. Of course that wasn’t the case, he cared very little about fireworks but since he’d been allowed back into the world from his house arrest he had a new sort of appreciation for things.
“Or could it be that I enjoy what little freedom I have left in this time and age?” he hummed as he came up to stand next to him, his hands behind his back and his head tilted to look up at the sky.
Pamina was kind of surprised but also shocked, she kept that a rather big secret, not that her father was a werewolf but not which kind of werewolf, nobody knew about that and of course with her father attacking the school with the death eaters and Dumbledore’s death, it would have come to light eventuall: Pamina was just glad that nobody from her fellow students found out that secret, but it was her Professor that manage to deduce the little facts.
“Do you think I am in danger? Are you scared of my well being? Professor you don’t need to be. As much as people hate my father, he never hurt me, that is something I could not say of the other death eaters if they would find out. It might sound weird but I am fine.”
Well. This was certainly a surprise. Professor Snape looked almost startled to see her opening the door, as if he had been looking for someone else, and had gotten the wrong house. But when he spoke, it was with a mix of awkwardness and familiarity, as he told her she could call him by his first name since school was not in session.
And then he continued, mentioning their blood connection, and it just confirmed a lot of things for her; the fact that she was in Slytherin, that he seemed pleased with her potion work, above almost everyone else save for Draco’s, their uncanny resemblance to one another... It had been something Harriet had wondered for the entire school year, so hearing the confirmation from the man’s own lips had her smiling, and she stepped aside to dutifully allow him within the house. “Yes sir.”
So. Not only was Professor Snape -- Severus -- her true father, but he was coming to take her away huh? This was going to be an interesting summer.
At his loud call, there was a small crashing sound from the kitchen, a squeal, a few moments of furious hissing, and then Petunia stuck her head out from the kitchen doorway. Apparently she and Severus had a history that Harriet hadn’t known about, because the woman’s eyes were wide as saucers, and so Harriet quietly slipped upstairs to pack her things, leaving the adults to their...conversation.
It did not take Harriet very long to have her trunk packed away. She had so little clothing, mostly hand-me-downs from Dudley, who was, at least, a little nicer to her than Vernon and Petunia were, and a few old dresses from a thrift shop that never fit properly. But she left those in her drawers, packing her more comfortable outfits and all her her school supplies, including the homework she had worked on in the dead of night when the Dursleys were asleep, before releasing Hedwig from her cage.
“You’ll find me,” she assured the snowy owl. “You always will.”
As soon as Hedwig had disappeared into the distance, and the raised voices below had quieted down, Harriet grabbed her trunk and began her descent back down the stairs. “I have my things,” she announced quietly.
Jillian stood with her arms crossed tightly over her chest as if doing her best to protect herself from the memories the castle in front of her brought, her fingers curling into her sleeves. She swallowed thickly as she looked up at Hogwarts, terrified of the memories that lay inside. She had been spending the last year of her life perfectly content to stay in her house in London where she and Sirius had been living before he was arrested, moping over the loved ones that had been lost to her. She was perfectly content with the idea of never leaving, with the idea of never truly rejoining society. How was she supposed to walk back into a world like that? A world where Lily didn’t exist anymore? A world where James and Peter didn’t exist anymore? The same world where Marlene and Dorcas and all of her other friends had vanished from, even Remus, didn’t seem like a very welcoming place.
Jillian closed her eyes tightly as she took a deep breath, her mind falling to her fallen friends and what they would tell her in a moment like this. ‘You just have to do the scary thing, even if it’s terrible, because it won’t seem so terrible when it’s over,’ James would say. And Peter would hold her hand and tell her ‘I’ve seen you take on Death Eaters, this is nothing. This is just a building, you’re Jillian, no building is a match for you.’ Peter always knew how to make her feel brave. ‘You can do this…’ Jillian’s eyes snapped open, watery and filled with sorrow. ‘You’re my best friend, I know you better than anyone. You can do this.’ Lily. She swallowed thickly as she looked over her shoulder as if to make sure no one was following her, PTSD some had said, paranoia others had thought. But in truth, it was hope. Hope that Lily and James would just appear behind her one day.
She sniffled softly and wiped her eyes, another deep breath filling her lungs. Remus would tell her bravery wasn’t about not being afraid, it was about battling your fears in the absence of another choice. Marlene would tell her to kick ass, Alice would tell her to take a deep breath, and Sirius...he would hold her hand and know that the action alone spoke volumes. But what he would say or do didn’t matter anymore, not after what he had done to her and to everyone they cared about. Harry’s little face flashed behind her eyes, her heart jumping. He would be two now, and she wasn’t even allowed to send him anything for his birthday, Albus had made her swear. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want to. If there was ever a chance of her seeing her godson again, of ever explaining anything to him, of ever protecting him and getting what little bit of family she had back, this place and a place on Albus’s good side was the only way.
With one last moment to contemplate the tempting idea of turning back, she walked towards the front entrance of the castle, pulling her wand from her sleeve and waving it when she got close enough, watching the large doors open themselves. She put her wand back in her sleeve and stepped inside, a sick feeling churning in her stomach. She still knew this place like the back of her hand, each hall and each painting, where each door led and found that every inch of the castle was littered with memories. She crossed her arms tighter as she made her way towards Albus’s office, the password he had written in his letter to her so she might be let in to see him still rattling around in her brain. Sugar Quills. That man always did have a thing for sweets.
Jillian felt haunted as she walked through the halls of Hogwarts, quieter than she had ever heard them since there were no students inside. She heard the far off conversations of teachers in other halls as voices echoed around her, the murmurs of paintings and the far off flaps of wings but it was still so quiet. She looked out at the courtyard with an ache in her chest, swearing she saw a flash of bright red hair run past her. She turned around quickly to look for it but was met only with emptiness, swallowing thickly. James and Sirius used to chase herself and Lily all through these halls as if it were their jobs.
She wondered how long it would take to be here before she would stop seeing things, stop hearing things. Maybe they were right, maybe she did have PTSD, not only from all the loss she had gone through but from the war. She couldn’t tell you how many times she checked the locks at night or how many times she reached for her wand at the sound of the roof settling. War did that to you. She took a deep breath as she shook herself from it all, reminding herself there was no one there but her. She looked back at the courtyard, half expecting to see Peter and Remus studying but was met only with air. This was going to be a very long day.
On the way to her destination, her mind swam with memories, hearing and seeing memories before her eyes as if they were playing out in real time. Marlene’s laughter echoing throughout the halls, her fingers running over the walls as she remembered leaning against them while talking to Dorcas. She closed her eyes as she forced herself to keep walking, thoughts of Severus entering her mind but she forced them out. She couldn’t do this now. She kept going, only stopping again when she got to a long hallway just past the moving staircases where she had once had a fight with Sirius. They had been broken up for months but when Lily had spilled the beans to him that Jillian was still in love with him they had gotten into a huge fight in this hall.
Jillian pressed her palm flat against the warm stone, her finger tips buzzing. He had sworn to love her forever that day, promised that if she trusted him that they could be together always and that neither her mother nor his own could stop them. She had believed him, had taken him back and given him her heart that day. She scrunched up her face as she dropped her hand from the wall and shook her head. Once a liar, always a liar. She shook her head and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and made her way down a few more hallways before she came to the large statue she knew she was looking for, sighing heavily. This was going to be an exhausting conversation.
“Sugar quills,” she said clearly, holding her hands up as she spoke. She watched a staircase begin to form, making her way over and taking her place on one of the steps as they rose, saving her the trouble of walking all the way up. When the stairs finally stopped moving she was met with a closed door, a flame on the wall on either side. She took a deep breath as she walked up to it, knocking three times before the door opened on it’s own. On the other side of the door she was met with a familiar office, Albus sitting behind his desk looking up at her.
“I was beginning to wonder if you would come at all, Ms Graham,” he drawled.
“We fought a war together Albus, you might as well start using my first name,” she pointed out, walking into the room properly, her hands shoving deeper into her small pockets, cursing women’s clothing for having such pitiful pockets in comparison to men’s.
“I suppose you’re right,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Perhaps it’s hard for me not to see you as a student when inside these walls.”
Jillian half smiled at him, though it was forced. She saw no professor in front of her, she saw a general who had once given orders. “On the plus side, you can’t give me detention anymore,” she said.
Albus laughed softly and nodded his head in agreement “Minerva did that more often than I did. But among you all, you were best at not being caught,” he said. She knew he was talking about the Marauders, the words making her chest hurt. She knew he could see it, because the look in his eyes slightly changed. He was giving her that look that everyone gave her when Severus had called Lily a mudblood, the one that she and Lily had received from damn near everyone in school when word got around. It was also the same look everyone had been giving her for the last year, since all her friends died and her boyfriend was arrested for their murders. Pity.
“Stop it,” she said finally, feeling like she was an ant squirming under a magnifying glass. “Stop looking at me like an orphan kid. I can barely take it from the world, I don’t need it from you too,” she said firmly. She was tired. Tired of the pity, tired of the condolences, tired of the whispers. She was tired of people talking about how she was the poor little girl who was left all by herself. She was tired of the rumors that she was just as corrupt as Sirius and probably was in on the death of the Potters but had somehow escaped trial. It all reminded her far too much of the whispers that circulated when her father died and her mother went mad. She had been living with people whispering about her all her life, and she couldn’t take it anymore.
Albus nodded silently in understanding, just watching her as she stood stiffly a few feet away from his desk. “Have you thought more about my offer?” he asked finally.
Jillian sighed softly, he didn’t waste time did he? She looked at the ground as she rolled one of her ankles as if waiting for it to crack, her mind feeling muddy. “I don’t know if I can do this, Albus,” she admitted. “This place…”
“Full of memories?” he asked, noticing she seemed to be lost for words.
Jillian nodded, swallowing thickly and noticing the tightness in her throat. “Everywhere I look...I’m just reminded of everyone I lost. I...It's like my past lives in these walls. It’s haunting. Even just on the way up here, I thought I might lose my mind. Peter, James, Lily...even Sirius...they live in these halls for me. How am I supposed to live with that every day?”
He studied her while he leaned back in his chair a bit, though she wondered if it was for comfort or to get a better look at her. “Wouldn’t that be true everywhere else?” he asked. Jillian just stood there, her mouth seemed to be clamped shut. Was he right? “Would you not recall them in the walls of your house? I know you still live in the house you lived in with Sirius, are those walls not filled with memories too? Of the Potters?” he asked, taking advantage of the silence.
“Would you not see their image in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley? Would you not see Lily in every red haired girl or James in every man with glasses? Would you not see Remus in any man with a scar on his face or Peter in every shy little boy? Would you not expect to see Sirius every time you hear a motorcycle drive by or vaguely smell his cologne in the air?” he asked, sitting up once more. “Would you not turn to look for Harry every time a baby cries?”
“Don’t talk about Harry,” Jillian snapped quickly, somehow finding the words to defend her godson. But all the while, she knew he was right.
“Jillian…” he started.
“You took him from me,” she said, clearly having not forgiven him for the act. She doubted she ever would.
“I had to, you know that. I told you that last year,” Albus said, his voice calm as ever.
“He was the only family I had left,” she reminded.
“I know. And if there was any other way I would have left him in your care, like your friends wanted. But this was the best way to keep him safe. In a few years he will be right back here, where he belongs. And if you take me up on my offer and you find a home here, you will be here when he comes,” he pointed out. It was manipulation, she could taste it in the air. After growing up around her mother, she knew control anywhere.
“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” Jillian asked after a moment or two of dead silence.
“No,” he said, his mouth tilting up in a small smile. “I would never forgive myself if I let you die of a broken heart in that house. Not when you are of more use here. You have a good heart and a passionate nature Jillian. You can help mold the next generation into a better one than the one that came before it. A more tolerant and open minded generation. With the experience you have and the loyalty I know that resides in you, I know you can help make a better life for these children,” he said. “Harry may not be here, and neither is Lily, but there are people here who need you. And I think you need them too.”
A tear rolled down Jillian’s cheek, one that she quickly wiped away before clearing her throat and running her fingers through her hair to get it out of her face. She watched him as she thought over his offer, knowing that as much as she hated it, he was right. If she didn’t find some sort of purpose, some sort of home, she would die in that house. The grief was too much. “History of Magic?” she asked hesitantly.
“History of Magic,” he said with a nod.
“Why that class?” she asked, curiously. “Why not Potions or Charms?”
“Only position available,” he said honestly. “But also because I recall you rather enjoyed the class, you had your highest marks in it. So if there was ever a class you could teach, I would think it would be that one.”
She sighed heavily before her shoulders relaxed “Fine, you’ve got yourself a deal,” she said, watching the amusement in his eyes behind his half moon spectacles. “When do you want me back here to start setting up for the school year?”
“As soon as possible would be wonderful. Teachers always come back a bit early to start setting up their lesson plans but you also have to get settled in properly,” He informed her.
Jillian nodded “I’m gonna need a few days. Pack up my things, find a way to get the house off my hands, get some financial stuff squared away. Does next Monday work for you?”
“Excellent,” he said, nodding as he smiled up at her. “Now, if you don’t mind, Jillian, I have to go over some paperwork concerning remodeling of the Quidditch field,” he said, picking his quill back up.
“No problem. I have to head out anyway, stop by the bank,” she said, nodding and turning towards the door.
“Jillian,” Albus said as she reached the door.
Jillian turned, her hand on the doorknob so she could close it on her way out “Yes?”
Albus looked over his glasses at her “Welcome home.”
Jillian smiled slowly, a ghost of a smile, a sad one. “It’s good to be home,” she lied, closing the door behind her as she made her way back down the stairs. She was doing it for Harry, she told herself. Because she had made a promise to James and Lily that she would protect their son if anything ever happened to them and in nine years time, she would be able to make good on that promise. If she wasted away in that god forsaken house, she would never be able to do that. If being here in this place, trapped in her own memories, could bring her closer to Harry one day, it was worth the trouble.
Jillian made her way down the hall and had just turned the corner when she collided with someone taller than her, gasping as she reached out and grabbed onto their arm to steady herself so she wouldn’t fall over. “Woah!” she gasped, her legs wobbling a bit as she tried to catch herself, finding her footing again quite quickly. “Forgive me, I didn’t hear anyone…” but her words were lost when she looked up to see who she had bumped into, the sentence turning to ash in her mouth. This had to be one of her moments of insanity, there was absolutely no way this was real. But as she felt his arm under her grip and saw his near black eyes before her, she knew it was real. A little older but it was him. She would know that face anywhere.
I really wanna show some appreciation to theacerbicprince who is such a beautiful human being with such talent it is insane. It is so crazy how inspiring their work is and reading the way they write Snape is so crazy because he is so accurate. I love this mun so much and the way she writes her character is just such a gift to read
@theacerbicprince
Potter Positivity Party! Send something nice about your favorite roleplayers and we’ll @ them for you. (Guidelines.)
For Severus, for some reason that smell that’s in the air after it’s rained. Also licorice and the smell of potions (that one’s hard to explain but if you ever have walked into a potion laboratory you’ll know exactly what I mean).
Harry had gotten more wonderful gifts in the past year than he had in all his life before, as far as he could remember, but the rough little album full of photographs of his parents was easily the most thoughtful. It had rapidly become his prized possession, and after spending most of his summer memorizing the faces within, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back his curiosity for long once he was back in school. Because as often as the group of boys surrounding his father appeared, there was Professor Snape with his mother. He didn’t really need to know what they’d been to each other, but he wanted to- he needed to know all that his professor might be willing to tell him about who his mother had been--what she’d been like--and it wasn’t as though he could make Snape dislike him more by asking. Maybe, if he was lucky, he’d get a nice story or two, and even if he wasn’t, he’d risk a few detentions for this.
He was on his best behavior from the very start of the year, making sure to be respectful and not rise to any of the taunts other students threw at him, and when Saturday came, he gathered all his courage around him and went to Professor Snape’s office. Then he knocked.
