Maybe Harry wasn't at school with us, but Neville was certainly channeling his spirit. We spent the remaining month and a half before Christmas doing everything in our power to give Snape and the Carrows a difficult time. Sometimes, we rescued kids who were in detention if we knew where they were, thanks to our Slytherin spy, Valentine. Mostly, though, we just wreaked as much havoc as possible without detection.
November was a blur of graffitied walls, vandalizing the Slytherin common room, sending nifflers into Snape's office, and bribing Peeves to throw things at the Carrows whenever they walked by. To our surprise and relief, it seemed that the teachers didn't really care what we did anymore. They couldn't discipline us, because that meant turning us over to the Carrows, and they didn't want Snape as their boss. In fact, when a third niffler found its way into Snape's office and Snape told McGonagall that he suspected Ginny, she said, “Really, Severus, Miss Weasley has already tried and failed to get into your office undetected. Surely you can find the true culprit yourself, without snitching on innocent students. Or is this your way of asking for help?”
I witnessed this particular scene at the end of Transfiguration, and had made a point of spilling the contents of my bag all over the floor when Snape walked in, just so I could eavesdrop. I relished Snape's expression as he walked away. When I stood to leave, McGonagall, I swear, smiled and gave me a conspiratorial wink. It was only then that I fully appreciated that the teachers might know what we were up to, and be silently rooting for us- especially since all of the nifflers had been planted in Snape's office by me.
As Christmas approached, I mourned the loss of Dumbledore more than ever. Hogwarts was not decorated to the nines this Christmas. We were only allowed outside for Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, and since I wasn't taking either of those, I could only stare longingly outside through the library window during my free periods.
That was exactly where I was at the moment, sitting on one of the comfortable window seats for the daydreamer's pleasure. The windowpanes were cold, but I had a warm jumper on under my robes. I stared out of the window. The grounds were quiet, and snow was falling. I saw Hagrid feeding logs to a bonfire that was already the height of his cabin. Students huddled around it, warming their hands, and probably taking notes on salamanders. I was jealous of those kids, and was wondering whether it would be worth detention just to go outside and start playing in the snow, when someone sat down next to me.
“Hi, Simon,” I said without looking up. I was used to his random appearances from nowhere by now.
“Hey,” said Simon absently. He was looking out the window too. “I wouldn't fancy being one of those kids. They must be freezing!”
“I would,” I said. “At least they aren't stuck inside all the time. Anyway, out there it looks like Christmas. Maybe if we were outside too, we'd forget how awful it is in here.”
Simon shrugged. “Maybe. It really doesn't feel like Christmas at all, does it?”
I shook my head. “It makes me think of this book I used to make Sev- I mean, Snape- read to me every Christmas.” I blushed scarlet and stopped looking out the window. The snow covered grounds were making me sentimental.
“What?” asked Simon. He was looking at me now instead of the window. I wished he wouldn't.
“It was stupid- it was by a Muggle author called called Dr. Seuss. It was called How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and every year until I was nine or ten, I made him read it on Christmas Eve. It was about this guy who hated Christmas, so he decided to steal it from this little village. He took all their decorations and presents and was about to throw them off the side of a mountain, but then he heard the people in the village singing, and he figured out that Christmas was really about love and being together, and stuff.”
I felt stupid, until I remembered the ritual. In my mind's eye, I could see myself sprawled in front of the fireplace, the warm glow making my cheeks as red as they were now. I would stare into the fire as Sev read to me, all about the Grinch, and how he tricked little Cindy Lu into believing he was Santa Clause, come to repair the Christmas tree. I shook my head, trying to shake away the memory. I felt like I was Cindy Lu, with a difference- her Grinch gave back everything he took, and mine was remorseless.
Simon looked intrigued. “That was a Muggle book? Why did Snape have a Muggle children's book if he was a Death Eater?”
I shrugged, never having given it much thought. “His dad was a Muggle.” Now that I thought about it though, it also reminded me of the play Snape had given me for Christmas last year. I had already decided that he was trying to justify what he had done so that I would somehow forgive him. Maybe he thought that if the Grinch could have redemption, he, Snape, had a little hope left for himself.
But that was before Voldemort returned. Before Snape betrayed us all.
I stood up, suddenly angry. Thinking about Snape always made me that way. “Come on,” I said, starting to walk away. “Transfiguration's in ten minutes.”
~ * ~
Three days later, I was crammed in a compartment with Sammy, Valentine, Ginny, and Luna, rolling back to Lupin and Tonks for Christmas. Sammy was fast asleep, Valentine had her nose in another book, and Ginny, Luna, and I were talking about a radio program we had been listening to called Potterwatch.
“I listened to it last night. It was brilliant! Well, except for when they talked about all the people that have gone missing- did you know Tonks' dad is on the run?” said Ginny.
My heart froze. “Really?” I said, picturing Andromeda sitting alone at the piano that she had never been able to play. I felt tears come to my eyes, but I managed to disguise them by sneezing hard.
“Yeah, it was really weird they didn't go after him before now, since they summoned him about the whole Muggle-born Registration thing. Dad says he thinks they've called in so many already that they've only just now caught up,” Ginny continued.
“My dad says that the Ministry is angry with him, for everything he's been putting in The Quibbler. He keeps telling me to be careful, thinks they may do something drastic,” said Luna idly.
Ginny appeared not to have heard her. She was looking out the window nervously. “Do you think he- they- are alright?”
Nobody spoke. We all knew what she meant. I looked out the window too, thinking of Lupin and Tonks, and how they had protected me last summer. I thought of Ted and Andromeda, and how they took me in, treating me like family. I thought of Simon, the only person on the planet besides Lupin who understood just how scary this whole thing was for me.
And then I thought of Harry, the brother I never got to have. He damn well better win this thing. I had risked too much for him to lose.
“He is,” I answered Ginny.
“How can you be so sure?” asked Ginny.
“Because,” I answered, looking her in the eye, “He's worked too hard not to.”
~ * ~
Halfway through the journey, Ginny had gone off to talk to Neville about the D.A. Sammy had gone to find Tyler and make sure he had money for the trolley, and Valentine had gone to find a bathroom, leaving Luna and me alone in the once crowded compartment. Luna and I never talked much, and now was no exception. Luna's head was against the window, and she was dozing with her wand tucked neatly behind her ear. I, meanwhile, was stroking Artemis and thinking about Harry.
I had never felt an empty spot in my heart, where many orphans feel that their parents should be. Maybe it was because my guardian was, if not friendly, at least not openly hostile. Even so, I couldn't help but feel a sense of loss when I first laid eyes on them, on the train back to Hogwarts when I was twelve years old.
It had barely been a two minute conversation. I boarded the train to find Sammy, when I bumped into Harry on accident. His rucksack spilled, scattering its contents all over the corridor. I helped him retrieve his belongings, and we were nearly done when I picked up his old photo album.
It had fallen open to a page revealing two people. One of them was a man who had dark hair, so messy it looked almost deliberate. The other was a woman who looked startlingly like someone in a bent photograph that I had seen in Sev's desk drawer back at Spinner's End. They were waving up at me, smiling and laughing at a joke I couldn't hear.
Harry saw me stare. “Oh,” he said casually, “Yeah, those are my parents. That's one of my favorite pictures of them, actually.”
“You look like him,” I said faintly, handing back the photo album. “Except-”
“-The eyes. I get that a lot,” he said, smiling down at the picture before tucking it away in his rucksack. I remember that when he looked back up at me, he did the smallest of double-takes, and he tilted his head to one side. For a moment, it seemed as if something bonded between us, as if he almost figured out who I was. Something happened that made us almost seem like the brother and sister pair that we were.
And then I turned and ran down the corridor, the moment gone in the flash of reality that carried me away.
I knew all the reasons why Harry could never know who I was, at least until the fall of Voldemort. But now that Harry was off on his quest, I wished I had told him. There was, after all, the very real possibility that I would never see him again.
The compartment went pitch black, jerking me out of my reverie. “What the-?” I shrieked, and I heard Luna yelp. Someone pulled something over my eyes. I struggled, kicking at my attacker, but they hit my head, and I became unconscious.
~ * ~
The first thing I remember about coming to was the voices.
A drawling, posh one: “You idiot! How could you have brought in the wrong one?”
A squeaky, nervous one: “She has red hair! I thought for sure-”
A mad, enraged woman: “Whenever you start thinking, things go wrong! Oh, he will be very displeased!”
The drawling voice again: “Who says he has to know about this?”
Another voice, wild and coarse: “I say we kill her now, before she wakes up!”
And yet another, a voice I recognized as Draco Malfoy's: “She's not awake yet. Suppose we send her back?”
“Oh, but she is awake, Draco. They both are,” snarled the woman, and she ripped off my blindfold. I found myself staring at Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman on many wanted posters all over Diagon Alley, the last I had seen it. Also in the room were other people I recognized: Draco's father Lucius Malfoy, Fenrir Greyback, and Wormtail. I could feel Luna next to me, tense- at least, I hoped it was Luna.
I glared defiantly up at Bellatirx, trying desperately to suppress the wild thoughts that had entered my mind. How could I compare Bellatrix and Lucius to Riffraff and Magenta at a time like this? However uncanny the resemblance, this dynamic duo was much more sinister. Bellatrix summoned Draco. “Are you sure this isn't the Weasley girl?” It was more of a threat than a question.
Draco looked at me, straight in the eye. Bellatrix backed away, as if to let him have a good, long look. He appeared to be studying me, but his face seemed to change. He looked ashamed, almost apologetic. He turned back to Bellatrix. “Positive,” he said quietly.
“Let's kill her,” said Fenrir Greyback eagerly, like a child suggesting to his friends that they eat a large ice cream sundae. Bellatrix looked poised for action, but then someone walked in.
“Why kill her now?” said the voice of Severus Snape. “Keep her. The Dark Lord will not know the difference. Besides, he is abroad, looking for a man who will help him destroy the Potter boy. He will never know.”
“What's the point of keeping the wrong girl?” said Lucius Malfoy. “If he discovers Wormtail's mistake, we will all be severely punished.”
“I think Snape's interested in the girl,” crooned Bellatrix in a soft, breathy voice that made me cringe.
“I'm trying to save us all from punishment,” said Snape silkily. “Killing her would make it obvious that she was a mistake. Keep her, and no one need ever be the wiser.”
The Death Eaters around him paused, weighing this option. Then Lucius said with obvious authority, “Wormtail, take them below!”
Wormtail grabbed Luna and me by the arms and took us down to a cellar, where we were flung into darkness.
Interlude
The man seemed to have sprung right out of the ground, like a weed popping out of the snow. He was tall and thin, but any feature other than that was totally obscured by his long black cloak and the hood pulled low over his face. He glanced up and down the High Street of Godric's Hollow, before walking through the silent town square. He could hear the sound of a choir in the little church he had seen so many times. It was where she got married- and where the funeral had been. The beginning and the end of her short life.
The man glanced at the memorial on the way, but he never dwelled on it for long. That he had won her heart, had the precious privilege of holding her soft hand, the exulted honor of touching the red hair, was unforgivable. Because he couldn't possibly appreciate that kind of beauty.
Well, thought the man savagely, You appreciated her, and what did it get you?
The answer to this question was obvious, but he couldn't think about his answer now. Because his answer was starting to have questions of her own. His answer thought him a monster.
It was only now that he started believing this to be true.
He slipped like smoke through the open gate and stepped into the graveyard. He never needed to search for her final resting place. He had known it by heart from the day of the funeral, when she was lowered into that abysmal tomb: Ninth row, directly in the center, next to the one she had chosen over him.
He found the grave, frosted slightly with the snow that had begun to fall. He stood, looking down at her name, hoping to find a feeling other than the regret that was stabbing him.
But her name brought a different face to mind, one that he had cared for over the years, the one that used to look up at him with almond-shaped green eyes, completely trusting. Neither of them would ever truly understand how much he hated himself for the pain he had caused.
He closed his eyes.
“Forgive,” he whispered. “Please forgive.”
The Other Potter by georgeisholey
Chapter Notes: Hey all. I do not own Harry Potter, Dial M for Murder, How the Grinch stole Christmas, or The Rocky Horror Picture Show. For those of you who are starting to look concerned, it's only a brief character comparison, and (sadly) nobody does the Time Warp. Enjoy!
Chapter Endnotes: Admit it. Lucy and Bella look like Riffraff and Magenta. The resemblance is just uncanny.