The Half-Blood Princess

Harley and the Order of the Phoenix

Voldemort. He had returned, and yet she was back in Surrey, as if it had been a regular ending to the school year. She wanted to do something. She wanted to take action. She had only been at home a week and yet she had five different potions bubbling in her basement. Her nerves were so bad, she kept Apparating all over the house, thankful that she was of age and had passed her test. She wanted to be proactive, and yet she was sitting in her basement like a twelve year old!

One early evening, she was stirring a cauldron filled with useless cobra venom antidote when she heard the doorbell ring upstairs. She didn't bother thinking twice about it, not caring much for inane small talk with neighbours.

She heard her mother give a shrill laugh, the kind she used when she was nervous. What visitor could make her mother nervous?

"Harley, come upstairs, please," her adoptive father called in a strained voice. "Now."

Well, you don't have to be so bloody nice about it, Harley thought as she mounted the stairs. She could hear her mother's voice faintly.

"...very nice to have you in our home. If we'd had warning, I would have prepared a warmer welcome for you."

A familiar voice said, "Quite all right, Mrs. Torrance. It is standard protocol to check up on wizards and witches raised by Muggles, to be sure every necessity is being met."

"Professor Snape?" Harley said, shocked at seeing him-again in Muggle clothes-sitting in their white and seafoam green living room. It was so pale, and he was so stark against the colour scheme, just like she herself was.

"Harley," he said. "I am very sorry to have disturbed your family."

"You are not a disturbance, sir," Harley said.

He took the cup of tea Mrs. Torrance offered him and said to her, "Your daughter is, by far, my best student. She has actually surpassed her age's skill level significantly. You should be very proud of her accomplishments."

"Well, uh, you see, Mister..." Mr. Torrance trailed off.

"Snape."

"Mr. Snape, we would be more enthusiastic if we understood more of it. It was enough of a shock when she made her dolls talk or fly across the room, but now...all of this is really quite over our heads," he admitted.

"Well, that does not mean that when she tells you she got top honours on her exams you cannot be proud. Many students leave school after their fifth year because they simply cannot pass the exam. She not only passed, but did so well even our headmaster was surprised," Snape said, his dark eyes sharp. "Harley is not a Muggle-born, but being raised by Muggles means that she might not be as advanced or well recepted by her guardians. Hence the reason for my visit. Seventh year is the most important, as it determines what she will do for the rest of her life. I...and the headmaster...want to be sure everything is as it should be."

"Well, we have always given her her own space to practise what she does," Mrs. Torrance said, offended. "Set up the whole basement for her."

Harley watched this exchange with interest. This was not why Snape was here. He had hollows in his cheeks and under his eyes. This was a pretense for something else, and she knew he had disguised his real reasons for coming by pretending this was a check-up.

"Professor, would you like to see my dungeon? I admit, it's not as nice as your rooms at Hogwarts, but I made it fairly comfortable," Harley offered.

He stood up and said, "Certainly. Lead the way."

Harley led him downstairs, where he was actually stunned for a moment, gazing around her room. His eyes lingered on a photograph of her mother holding her as a baby, and then passed over to where her cat was sleeping in a pet bed, and the cage that held her snake. Her Hogwarts acceptance letter and her OWL results were framed on the walls.