The Half-Blood Princess

A Lycan At My Door

By the time fifteen years since the war had passed, The Potion Master was the most famous shop and potions export in the entire Wizarding World. Harley had patented dozens of potions, published one book of entirely new recipes of hers and her father's making, and had another in the works, plus the Half-Blood Prince's book, which she'd rescued from the Room Of Requirement during her semester working at Hogwarts.

She gained fame, but never basked in the glory...unlike her brother, whose face she saw in the Prophet every week. If statements were needed to be made, she sent Patricia with them. The Longbottom girl had become something of a friend to Harley in the ten years she had been working at the shop with her. Harley was the brains behind the shop, but Patricia handled all of their publicity. They worked well together, and she saved Harley a lot of hassle. If there was one thing she hated, it was dealing with idiots who could barely grasp a simple boil-reducing potion who thought they could question her on what she did.

When she said as much to Patricia, the girl laughed. "You sound just like him."

"Pardon me?"

"Your father--Professor Snape. He scared the living daylights out of me, but I always was in awe of him," she said. "If he could see you now, he'd be so pleased."

"I like to think he would," Harley agreed.

Patricia was silent for a moment and then said, "I've never lost anyone close till my grandmother died. ...Does it--does it still hurt? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"Yes," Harley said, ignoring the stabbing pain in her heart. "Yes, it hurts terribly and hasn't stopped. People wonder why I stay alone, but they all assume I'm simply mean."

"You aren't easy to get to know," Patricia pointed out.

"I've had some firewhiskey, so I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Harley said. "I am difficult, always have been. I needed to protect my heart in any way I could ever since I was three. I lost my entire family in the space of twelve hours. My half-brother hasn't spoken to me and I'd prefer he didn't, lest I hex his fucking heart out. So excuse me if I am not easy to love, because it only gets you hurt.

"Father loved my mother. I loved Fred. Love doesn't stop pain, it only magnifies it. Better to guard my heart now and try to quench the pain I've already got. So, again, yes, the losses I experienced still hurt me. I don't think they'll ever stop. I do this all for my Father, to make him proud. To show Fred that I am still living. To prove to Remus that I am a good person."

She saw Patricia's eyes soften at her words. "Oh, Harley, I didn't realise...you never act like--"

"Of course I don't. What am I going to do, sit and wallow till I die? I hold it all in because it's easier than feeling. Because feeling--showing that weakness--just will not do." She stood up. "Now, can we please drop the subject before I fire you?"

"You'd fire me after ten years because I care?" Patricia asked.

"No, for that I'd like to hex you, but I don't need to deal with the Ministry right now," Harley replied. She went to go and lock the back room where she kept her still-brewing potions. It was nearly closing time, and there was a vicious thunderstorm outside. They hadn't had a customer for three hours because even drying charms wouldn't work in this deluge.

As she was warding the door, there was a loud thump and Patricia screamed. Harley raced to the main room, her wand brandished in case there had been a break-in. She hoped that Patricia had simply knocked over a jar of pickled rat tails or snake eyes.

It turned out to be neither.

A body--a boy--had been tossed up against the window of the shop, startling Patricia. The boy looked to be about fourteen or fifteen, he was naked, and he was grievously injured. Harley unlocked the door and she levitated him inside, grimacing at the water and blood mingling on her floors.