The amount of paperwork required for running a school was surprising, but it was made even worse with the changes being made. Muggle-borns were no longer permitted to attend, but some of their number were to be replaced by the half-bloods and purebloods who had previously been homeschooled or attended school overseas and were now obliged to attend Hogwarts. This meant Severus had to amend class numbers, dormitory arrangements, and various other pieces of administration. He had handled some previously as Head of House, but he decided he'd rather make the arrangements himself than delegate to the Heads - the more control he retained over the school, the better.
He was in the middle of arranging the timetable when the door opened and Draco entered. He was stood up straight, his face unreadable, but the twitching of a finger clutched around a folded parchment he held at his side gave him away.
"Draco," Severus said formally, also standing up straight as he waved his wand to roll up the parchment that contained his draft timetable. "Thank you for coming."
Draco approached the desk. A small flicker of his eyes to his right showed he was conscious of Dumbledore's portrait, but he kept his attention focused on Severus.
There was no need for Draco to worry about Dumbledore, however - the portrait was empty, as Dumbledore had moments earlier left for his twin portrait at the Hog's Head to keep company with his brother.
"You asked me to come. I came. I would hate to disappoint the Dark Lord's most trusted man."
There was a bitterness in Draco's voice, and Severus was unsurprised. Their relationship had broken down over the last year, and in killing Dumbledore, Severus had only cemented his place at the Dark Lord's side - in Draco's eyes, taking the position his father should have kept.
He can keep it, Severus thought bitterly. I want no part of this.
He had to be careful what he said now. He needed Draco to help him protect the students, but he couldn't risk revealing his true allegiance. Draco's occlumency was good, but Severus couldn't risk the Dark Lord's legilimency being better.
"I have two things to ask of you. One is a request from me; the other, an order from the Dark Lord. You do not have to agree to my request, but I strongly advise you do."
"The order first."
"No. Take a seat."
Draco looked like he was going to protest, but he seemed to think better of it, and instead sat in the seat across the desk, the same seat Severus had sat in a hundred times before during discussions with Dumbledore.
"You know the Carrows, I trust?"
"Alecto and Amycus? Those weirdos?"
"The Dark Lord has ordered their appointments at the school. Alecto is to teach Muggle Studies since Professor Burbage is... no longer with us. Defence Against the Dark Arts will no longer be on the curriculum. Instead, Amycus will be teaching Dark Arts."
Draco didn't move. He just waited for Severus to get to his request.
"If you know the Carrows, you will know they are ruthless, and rather idiotic. I fully expect their attempts at discipline to be both violent and sloppy. It would not surprise me if they were to do something foolish enough to get a student killed - and killing perfectly capable, full blooded wizarding folk is quite counterintuitive to the Dark Lord's plan. I will allow them to teach as that is the Dark Lord's wish, but he made no mention of allowing them to run riot around the school. I will take every action I can to curb their actions, but I cannot be everywhere. I need eyes among the students."
"Me?"
"Yes. As a Death Eater already, you will hold sway among those loyal to the Dark Lord. You are perfectly positioned to keep an eye on them. I need you to report to me regularly with anything you learn."
"They won't talk to me if they know I'm going to run off to you."
"I will make you Head Boy. That way, regular meetings with me will be unsuspicious. It will be a test of your skill to keep your peers' trust."
"Who's Head Girl?" Draco asked.
"Abigail."
Draco couldn't hide his surprised expression. "She'd never."
"You may find I'm rather persuasive."
"Doesn't she hate your guts by now?"
"She does. But she is mature enough to swallow her pride and agree to work with me to keep her peers safe. She has agreed to observe the students who do not side with the Dark Lord. I suspect they will be the Carrows' prime targets for particularly nasty punishments."
"And she agreed to this, did she?"
"As I said, I can be rather persuasive."
Draco sighed. "Can I think about it?"
Severus nodded.
"Right. What's the Dark Lord's order, then?"
"The order is for both of you." Severus glanced at the clock. "I've asked her to meet us here in five minutes. Then, I will tell you both."
Draco frowned. "Abbie won't take orders from the Dark Lord."
"Then she'll take them from me."
"She won't."
"She must."
"Well, good luck with that," Draco scoffed. "The one way to guarantee Abbie won't do something is to order it."
The next five minutes passed in silence. Draco stayed sitting, while Severus stood and began pacing. He knew Draco was right, of course. Abbie would never take an order from anyone - and she may well rather die than do what he was going to ask of her.
The door opened for Abbie, and she stepped through. Severus turned to look at her, hating himself for what he was going to ask of her, but hoping she would be able to think past her own pride. Abbie glanced at Draco, who was still sitting.
"Has he agreed?"
"Yes," Draco replied for himself as he stood up. "I'll do it."
"Remember, your tasks must be absolutely secret," Severus warned them both. "Not a soul is to know except the three of us. Understood?"
Abbie and Draco both nodded.
"Good. Now... the Dark Lord's order. And it is an order," he emphasised, looking at Abbie meaningfully. "I hope I don't need to remind either of you what happens to those who displease the Dark Lord."
"Hang on," Abbie interrupted. "I'm not one of you. I don't take orders from him."
"You will if you value your life."
"And if I'd rather die?"
"Abigail, I warned you a long time ago that the Dark Lord would punish me by killing you. He may well do the same for you. You may not value your own life, but what about your mother, your friends?" He didn't want to mention her muggle girlfriend in front of Draco, but Severus hoped she understood.
"...What does he want?"
Severus looked between them. Their friendship had been tested over the years in many ways, and now he may well be about to break it forever.
"He wishes you both to marry."
"What?!" they exclaimed in unison.
"Why?!" Abbie demanded.
"As much as the Dark Lord is displeased with your family, Draco, he appreciates the value of the Malfoy bloodline. You are its only heir, and you must continue the legacy at all costs. He believes Abbie to be the best wife for you."
There was a pause as the two of them processed what was being asked of them. Continuing a bloodline required rather a bit more than just a wedding.
"Why me?" Abbie asked. "You're a halfblood and Mum's a muggleborn. My blood's not exactly pure."
Severus had to force himself to look at her. He thought she would be angry, but it was worse - she looked nothing short of distressed.
"You are talented. Clever. And yes, you carry only a quarter of a magical bloodline... but it is a powerful one. The Prince family was once one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. My mother was an only child - you and I, therefore, are the only remnants of the Prince family. Our blood may be tainted, but by combining with the pure blood of the Malfoys, it can be cleansed."
Severus hated every word he said, and Abbie's look of revulsion told him she felt no different. She must know, surely, that he didn't believe this, that he was merely echoing the Dark Lord's words? Her blood didn't need to be cleansed - she was perfect as she was. And surely she wouldn't believe he would want to force her into a marriage she didn't want?
"Why don't you do it?" Abbie asked bitterly. "You're more Prince than I am. If my mother's blood is so dirty, why don't you go and make babies with Narcissa?"
"Narcissa is a Black," Severus reminded her, "and already married, at that. Draco is both Malfoy and Black. His blood is the purest, the most powerful. It must be you."
"There are plenty of pureblood girls here!" Abbie protested. "Pansy Parkinson's in love with Draco anyway, why can't she do it?"
"The Parkinson family are plenty. The Prince family ends with us. Our bloodline is the one in need of saving. The Dark Lord could give Parkinson to Draco; some would think it more advisable. But the Dark Lord wishes to save our bloodline. It's an honour, Abigail. We should be grateful."
Abbie shook her head stubbornly, her lip curling in disgust. "You make me sick," she hissed. "I'm not doing it."
"This isn't a discussion, Abigail! If you don't do as the Dark Lord wishes, there will be consequences!" Severus took a steadying breath. "Draco, wait outside," he said shortly.
"But Snape -"
"Professor Snape," Severus growled. "If you also wish to get yourself killed by disobeying the Dark Lord, we can discuss it later. First, I need to speak to Abigail alone. Out."
Avoiding looking at either of them, Draco hurried out, and once the door was closed, Severus cast several silencing and locking spells, then turned to the portraits of the other headmasters.
"Some privacy, please," he said, and they all departed their frames, leaving Severus and Abbie completely alone.
"I'm sorry," Severus said truthfully. "He gave me this order only this afternoon."
"I'm not doing it."
Severus sighed and ran his palm down his face. "He knows about your girlfriend."
The tension between them suddenly turned very cold.
"How?"
"He has eyes everywhere, Abbie. It was foolish of you to see her so publicly. This is exactly what I warned you against from the beginning."
"Is she okay? Has something happened?"
Severus turned to his daughter. Only a few moments ago she had been simmering with anger; now, she looked like a frightened little girl again.
"Fortunately the Death Eater who reported you to the Dark Lord was unable to identify her. He knew only that she was a muggle, and that your interest was... romantic. The Dark Lord was furious that you may let the Prince genes go to waste."
"So he told you to make me marry Draco?"
"Yes."
She looked as if she might argue, but instead she let out a sob. A hand flew to her face, as if she could hide her tears from him.
Severus was at a loss. He wanted to hold her in his arms, to wrap her up in his cloak and let her tears soak his shoulder. Only a few months ago, he would have. But now he wasn't sure she wanted it anymore; now, he was the one making her cry.
She turned away, and ran off to his balcony. She turned the corner and he could no longer see her, but he heard her sobs. It was the most heartbreaking sound he'd ever heard, and he was powerless to stop it.
Abbie lost track of how long she sat out on the balcony, crying until her tears dried up, and her sobs turned to dry heaving. A few times, her breath hitched in her throat, and she swore she was going to suffocate. Crying herself to death, how pathetic.
She was vaguely aware that someone had joined her on the balcony. In the corner of her eye, she saw a hand holding a bottle of yellow liquid out to her.
Abbie blinked, and her brain finally caught up with her reality. It was a Draught of Peace.
"I don't need your stupid potion," she muttered, her voice hoarse.
"You need to breathe."
It wasn't Snape's voice, she realised. It was Draco's. Begrudgingly, Abbie took the potion and drank it down. She leant back, leaning her head against the wall, her eyes closed as she allowed the potion to take effect. Either it would work and she would calm down, or it wouldn't and she'd be poisoned. Either option sounded pretty good to her.
When she finally calmed down, Abbie opened her eyes and realised the sun had set. Draco was still there, sitting next to her silently.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, looking resolutely straight ahead, as if the Great Lake fascinated him.
"It's not your fault," Abbie replied. She hugged her knees to her chest and laid her head on her knees miserably. "I'm the one who was stupid enough to think I could fall in love with a muggle girl without any consequences."
Draco looked at her then. "Do you really love her?" he asked.
She held his gaze and nodded. She hadn't been sure before, but being told you had to marry someone else was apparently a great way to help you realise your feelings.
"It's no secret that I liked you, Abbie," Draco said. "In a way, I... still do. But I know you don't feel the same way. I don't want... I don't want to force you to be with me. I'm as reluctant to do this as you are."
"I wouldn't mind marrying you, really," Abbie said. "If I have to get married, you wouldn't be my last choice. But it's not about marriage, is it?"
Draco shook his head. "No. It's not."
Abbie looked up at the night sky. It was a clear night, and with Hogwarts being so hidden away, there was no light pollution. She could see the Big Dipper, and she wondered if Rebecca could see it too.
Rebecca deserved all the clear skies in the world. She deserved safety, and love, and a long life. Abbie loved her, but could she give her the other two? Voldemort might not know who she was, but he could no doubt easily find out. Snape had been right all along. Being with her only put her in danger.
Marry Draco, leave Rebecca to live a full life without her... or refuse to marry Draco, and risk Voldemort taking his wrath out on an innocent soul.
The answer was never in question.
***
It was the Malfoy flair for the dramatic that saved her from having to go through with it immediately. Lucius and Narcissa had apparently insisted such a momentous wedding had to be spectacular. Abbie cringed at the idea, but at least it bought her some time - grand weddings take time to plan, the Malfoys insisted, and the wedding couldn't possibly take place any earlier than the new year.
Apparently the news was important enough to make the front page of the Daily Prophet. The day after agreeing to the ridiculous idea, Abbie and Draco were whisked off to Malfoy Manor to meet a reporter and a photographer.
"Are you alright?" Snape asked quietly as Abbie stood against the wall in one of the many grand sitting rooms in the Manor, waiting for the photographer to finish setting up his shot. As the story emphasised the merging of the two families, the photo was to include all of them - Abbie, Draco, Lucius, Narcissa and Snape.
Abbie shrugged. Of course she wasn't alright. How had her life come to this? It was 1997, and she was being sold off in an arranged marriage like it was 1887.
She stared daggers at Lucius as he busied himself with the photographer, deep in discussion about what heirlooms to feature in the background. Apparently, the more prestigious the item, the uglier it was.
She hadn't seen him since he'd tried to kill her, and now here she was in his house, having to play nice and lie about being honoured to join his family, when really all she wanted was a rematch.
Finally, Lucius seemed to be happy with what ugly decorations he wanted in the background, and the photographer began arranging the human decorations. Abbie and Draco sat front and centre on stiff-backed chairs apparently designed with looking fancy in mind over being comfortable. To Draco's left stood Lucius, one hand on the back of Draco's chair, the other clutching his snake-headed cane that held his wand. Next to Lucius stood Narcissa, hands folded neatly in front of her. She assumed the position so naturally, she must have done it a thousand times before.
To Abbie's right, Snape stood as close to her as he could. His hand rested on her shoulder, and despite everything, she felt a wave of comfort wash over her at his touch.
Her hands were resting in her lap, but at the photographer's request, she reluctantly took Draco's hand, which was sweaty and clammy. Apparently Draco hated this as much as she did.
After the portrait came the interview. Snape had coached her as much as he could beforehand, and she tried her best to stick to what he'd told her to say. She was honoured to become part of such a noble bloodline, the Prince family owed a great debt to the Malfoys, blah blah blah.
Abbie only realised her hand was still in Draco's when she began squeezing it tightly. The journalist had asked Snape about her mother.
"I made a foolish mistake in my youth," Snape replied flatly. "I was taken by an attractive young woman who swore she was a halfblood. When I discovered the truth, I of course cut ties with her. The woman attempted to keep my daughter and I apart, but clearly she failed. I have no idea where she is now, and Abigail is better off for it. Fortunately she inherited my abilities; the Prince blood is strong in her. We are grateful to Lucius and Narcissa for allowing us to cleanse the Prince bloodline with this marriage."
When finally the journalist and his photographer left, the tension in the air deflated so strongly, the house itself seemed to relax. Abbie turned to Snape.
"Can we go?"
"After dinner, Abigail."
"Yes - Draco, go and tell the staff to prepare the table," Narcissa said. "We'll eat at seven. Severus - I simply must show you the faberge egg I collected from a trader just last week!"
Without waiting for any responses, Narcissa whisked Snape away, Draco left in another direction, and Abbie suddenly found herself alone with the man who tried to kill her.
They locked eyes for a brief moment, then Abbie crossed her arms and faced away from him, feigning interest in the ugly old artefacts sitting on the shelf behind her.
Unfortunately, Lucius didn't seem to take the hint. Abbie was very conscious of the fact that he was still there. After a few minutes of tense silence, Abbie could no longer pretend to still be interested in the oddments on the shelf, and finally she spoke.
"Surprised you'd agree to this," she said haughtily. "I thought I'd be too pathetic and traitorous for your precious Draco."
"The Dark Lord wants what he wants," Lucius replied. She still hadn't turned around, and he sounded far away. Abbie turned, and saw that Lucius had sat himself in an armchair. He stared at nothing, clearly avoiding eye contact with her.
"Good thing you suck at murder," she spat. "Else I wouldn't be able to give you your grandchildren."
"Would you believe me if I said I was sorry?"
That took Abbie aback. She had expected him to say he wished he'd succeeded, so Draco could marry a proper pureblood girl. Part of her even wondered if he was going to try again.
She didn't really know Lucius very well. She'd spent a week at Malfoy Manor three years ago, but the Manor was big, and she'd spent most of her time with Draco. But something in her gut told her he was telling the truth. Maybe having liars for parents had made her attuned to other people's lies - or maybe Azkaban had broken his spirit and he was no longer able or willing to lie.
"I believe you," she said eventually. "I'm not saying I forgive you. But I believe you."
Lucius breathed a sigh of relief, and his shoulders relaxed.
"Do you really want this?" Abbie asked. If he was in the mood to tell the truth, she was going to get answers while she could.
"The Dark Lord -"
"I know what he wants. I'm asking about you."
"Before Azkaban, I wanted so many things. Power, mostly. I've never been a very good wizard, you know. My name and my gold - that's all I really have. That's why I took a liking to your father. He was a halfblood with a muggle name, but he was talented. I hoped by associating myself with better men, it might make me a better man." Lucius scoffed. "All it got me was a cell in Azkaban and a year to dwell on everything I'd done wrong. It's a long list. But what I did to you - that was the worst of it."
He paused. He still hadn't answered the question, so Abbie waited.
"The only thought that kept me sane was Draco. If Azkaban taught me anything, it's that he's all that matters to me. His safety, and his happiness."
"He won't be happy with me," Abbie told him.
"I know. But there are worse options."
Abbie raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"He likes you. I'm sure if you weren't -" He paused. "If you were interested, I'm sure he would reciprocate. But we are where we are. At the very least, he considers you a friend. An arranged marriage could go much worse."
There was something else he wasn't saying, Abbie was sure of it. A suspicion began to take root in the back of her mind.
"Was your marriage arranged?" she asked.
He looked at her then. "Of course it was," he said calmly. "Marrying for love is a lesser man's privilege. Narcissa was one of three sisters. Her elder sister Bellatrix was married to Rodolphus Lestrange. Her younger sister Andromeda..."
He didn't finish his thought, but Abbie knew the story. Andromeda was Tonks' mother; she'd been disowned by the Blacks for marrying Tonks' muggle father.
"Well, the Malfoys have always married well. It made sense for Narcissa and I to marry, and combine the Black and Malfoy lines."
"If making Black-Malfoy babies was so important, why only have one?"
Lucius' jaw twitched, and Abbie suspected she may have asked a question just a little too private.
"Draco was a blessing," he answered shortly, and Abbie knew that was the only answer she was getting on that subject.
"You and Draco remind me of Narcissa and myself in many ways," Lucius continued. "She and I were friends at school. Although it wasn't official until we were older, it was generally expected by our parents that she and I would marry if we couldn't find our own prospects. I was an only child; with Andromeda disowned and Bellatrix struggling to conceive, Narcissa was the Black family's last prospect. It was necessary for our lines to survive, and so we married."
For a family so obsessed with carrying on their bloodline, the Malfoys didn't seem to be very good at it. But maybe that was a good thing - if Draco and Lucius had been only children, maybe Abbie would only be expected to give Draco one child.
"Narcissa respected and understood that although I valued her as a friend, I wasn't in love with her. She felt the same way. In a way, it made the whole process easier. Being married to Narcissa now is like living with a friend. We don't share a bed. We did what we had to to have Draco."
"I don't need to know that," Abbie said.
"Yes, you do." Lucius stood and approached her, looking at her intensely. "I need you to understand. I know the situation you're in."
"You don't. You can't."
"Severus says you inherited many of his gifts. Tell me, was secrecy one of them?"
Abbie almost laughed. If only you knew the secrets I keep, she thought.
She nodded.
"I tell you this because I want you to know something I wish I'd known before I married Narcissa. You are not alone. You are not the first to marry someone who doesn't meet your, ah... requirements."
He knows, Abbie thought in a panic. How did he know? Snape, or Draco?
Duh. Of course he knew. This whole thing was happening because she'd been spotted with Rebecca. She'd been so focused on the fact she'd been spotted with a muggle, it had barely crossed her mind that she'd been spotted with a girl.
Everything clicked as Abbie registered the meaning of Lucius' words.
"You mean you're -"
"Yes," Lucius replied quickly, as if saying the word out loud was a curse.
"Who knows?"
"Narcissa."
"That's it? Draco, your parents -"
Lucius laughed. "If my parents knew, I'd have been disowned. Draco has no need to know. He should be afforded the opportunity to believe his parents love each other."
"Does my father know?"
Lucius was silent. Abbie knew she wasn't going to get that side of the story any time soon.
Only a few hours ago, Abbie had been loathing him, wishing for a rematch. Now was telling her a secret he'd kept from all but his wife, and suddenly they had a kind of understanding.
Abbie just hoped Harry would finish his mission before she could be made to follow through.
***
After their meeting on her birthday, Snape had suggested she spend the rest of the summer at the Burrow. Now, she was glad she'd refused and insisted on staying in the castle, giving the Weasleys a vague excuse about Snape insisting she stay near him. She couldn't stomach the idea of what the wizarding community was thinking as they opened their papers to see her engagement splashed across the front page.
The photograph was almost laughable. Nobody looked as joyous as the text suggested. Abbie had to hold back a laugh when she saw her photographic self leaning away from the Malfoys and towards her father, who never seemed to release his hold on her shoulder.
The thought that troubled her most was that of her mother. Wherever Persephone was, was she keeping up with the Prophet? How did she feel seeing this headline, barely a few weeks after Snape had been made headmaster? Of all people, surely she would know the whole thing was a sham. Neither Abbie nor Snape would ever agree to the marriage if there were any other choice.
Since it was only the two of them in the castle, there was no point in opening up the Great Hall for meals. Instead, Abbie had taken to joining Snape in his office for meals, and on particularly nice days, sometimes they ate out on the balcony behind his office. That was where she sat now, alone as Snape was elsewhere, and she was staring at the paper in her hands as her untouched breakfast grew cold.
Abbie was alerted to Snape's arrival only when he snatched the paper from her hands and tossed it aside.
"Stop staring at it," he said sharply. "You won't feel any better. Why haven't you eaten?"
He spoke as if she had personally offended him by ignoring her breakfast.
"Guess I forgot," Abbie replied with a shrug. Snape rolled his eyes and called an elf to bring a fresh plate of food for her.
"And one for him!" she called just before the elf disappeared. If Snape was going to force her to eat, he could at least lead by example.
"Where have you been?" she asked as Snape pulled up a chair next to her.
"I'm sorry, are you my keeper?"
Abbie frowned at him. "Bloody hell, Dad, I'm just making conversation. What's your problem? You've been here ten seconds and you've snapped twice already. That's a record, even for you."
Snape took a deep breath and pinched his nose. "Sorry. I shouldn't be snapping at you. This is much worse for you than it is for me."
"Yeah, you think?"
The elf reappeared with fresh breakfasts for them both, and for a few minutes they ate in silence.
"I keep thinking about Mum," Abbie said glumly as she poked her beans around her plate. "If she's keeping up with the Prophet, how must it feel for her seeing this?"
Snape chewed thoughtfully before answering. "I'd imagine... she's primarily concerned for you. What I said about her won't have been... easy for her to read, but our relationship has been secret for so long, she understands the lies I have to tell. She's likely having to lie about me also, if she's not in hiding alone. I doubt anyone would trust her greatly if they knew she was romantically entangled with me."
He glanced at Abbie, who was looking at him strangely. "What?" he said.
"Nothing, just..." She shrugged and began picking at her food again. "I'm glad one of us gets to marry someone they love."
"You will too, one day," he promised. "We can only hope Potter hurries up and does what he has to do before you have to go through with this. And when it's all over... you can marry whomever you like."
"No, I can't."
Snape frowned. Abbie looked up at him.
"Gay marriage is illegal, Dad. Unless you think I'm gonna change my mind some day?"
"No, of course not. I suppose... with so much focus being on magical or muggle... I forgot there's another element to it."
"Well, at least you can forget about it. Rebecca's family don't even know about us, did you know that? They think we're just friends. Doesn't stop them making us keep the bedroom door open though."
Snape paused, then said, "Do you know your mother's friend Jamie?"
"Uncle Jamie, yeah, of course I do. He used to babysit me when I was little."
"Then I expect you're familiar with his wife."
"Yep, Auntie Kate. I was their bridesmaid. I don't remember it, really, I was about five, but Mum has pictures. Why?"
"A few months ago, your mother came home rather upset. She told me that Kate Bennett had been attacked. Not by a wizard because she was a muggle... but by a muggle, because she was black."
He paused, frowning. Abbie waited for him to continue.
"It seems, wherever one turns... there is always hatred. People always find ways to believe they're better."
Abbie bit her lip, thinking. "I always found our world to be so insular," she said. "Muggles outnumber us by a long shot, yet most of us have no idea what's going on in the rest of the world. We think we're better than muggles because - what? We can do magic tricks? Fat lot of good that does us - look at the state our world is in now. We're stuck in the past. We send our kids to boarding school in a castle to write with quill and ink. There are people like Mum who are in hiding because they're not the right kind of magic. I'm set to be in a bloody arranged marriage! I'm surprised you didn't have to give Lucius Malfoy any cows as a dowry."
Snape had to put his drink down quickly to stop himself spilling any of it as he laughed.
"Oh, sorry, this is the wizarding world," Abbie added. "I should say I'm surprised you didn't have to give him any house-elves."
"Well, I'm sure if we were on better terms he'd ask if I could spare a few from Hogwarts."
"Has he... tried to talk to you at all?"
"He has."
"And?"
"I punched him."
Abbie laughed. "I wish I'd seen that!"
"Perhaps not. I'll admit I may have gone a little too far, but... I had two years of pent-up anger inside me. He tried to kill you and now we have to stand up in front of everyone and say we're grateful to him."
Abbie glanced at her father. He was gripping his fork tightly, staring out at the mountains so intently they might have caught fire.
She placed her hand gently on his. He twitched, glanced down at her hand on his, then sat back with a sigh.
"What did he say to you yesterday?" he asked her.
Abbie knew she had to speak carefully. She loathed Lucius Malfoy, but she would never out another person, not even him.
"He apologised. He told me it was the worst thing he'd ever done."
"And do you believe him?"
"Believe him? Yes. Forgive him? No."
"Good." Snape squeezed her hand. "I wouldn't expect you to. An apology doesn't necessitate forgiveness. Sometimes a sin is... too great. One should show regret, not just say it."
"Did Sirius Black ever apologise to you?"
Snape looked taken aback for a moment, as if the question surprised him. "Of course not," he replied bitterly. "The great Marauders never apologised; to do so would involve admitting fault."
"Would you have forgiven him if he had?"
He looked at her for a long moment. "It's unimportant," he decided. "He is dead, as is Potter. They can never apologise, so the question of whether or not I would forgive is immaterial. What else did Lucius say?"
Abbie decided to ignore the obvious change of subject.
"He told me his marriage was arranged."
"Did he now?" Snape mused.
"He said he's glad, if he had to marry someone he didn't love, he at least married a friend. He seemed to think I should be grateful I'm being forced to marry Draco. And I suppose I am glad it's him and not... I dunno, Crabbe. But it's not about the marriage. I can live with that. But You-Know-Who doesn't particularly care about the marriage part, does he? He just wants us to... y'know..." She looked away, blushing. "...make babies."
Snape cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Yes, well... as I say, we must hope it doesn't come to that."
"There must be something we can do to help Harry. Hasn't Dumbledore told you anything?"
"Hmm... in fact, there is one matter you could assist me with."
"What is it?" Abbie asked quickly.
Snape stood up and wordlessly went back into his office. Abbie stood and followed him. Inside, Snape had swung open Dumbledore's portrait on a hinge, revealing a hidden crevice within the wall. He reached in and pulled out a sword, the hilt encrusted with rubies and the blade stained with something black. A glint of light reflected on the blade, and Abbie was able to make out the name Godric Gryffindor engraved in the steel.
"The Sword of Gryffindor," she said with surprise as Snape closed the portrait again. Abbie looked at Dumbledore. "Harry told me you tried to leave it to him."
Dumbledore nodded sagely. "I knew, of course, the Ministry wouldn't allow him to have it. But it's important he knows I wish him to have it, so he may look for it."
"The problem, of course," Snape said, "being getting it to him." His lips thinned for a moment. "The Dark Lord has Death Eaters stationed outside Grimmauld Place, we can't risk trying anything until he leaves. I know I've asked you before, Abbie, but are you certain you've no idea where he may hide next?"
She shook her head.
"Then we must draw him out," Snape decided.
"Remember, Severus, you need to do more than simply give him the sword," Dumbledore said. "To truly wield the Sword of Gryffindor, it must be won under conditions of need and valour."
Abbie shook her head with a frown. "Then you asked me the wrong question," she said. Snape looked up at her with a frown, and she explained, "You asked me where he would hide. But he's not hiding. He's looking for this. So the real question is, where would he look for the Sword of Gryffindor? Other than Hogwarts, what's the one place associated with Godric Gryffindor?"
"I already thought of that," Snape said with a shake of his head. "The place where his parents died is the first place the Dark Lord thought to set a trap for him. He'll be in danger the moment he sets foot there; to leave the sword there would be foolish."
"Then maybe we don't need to leave the sword. Maybe we just need to leave a clue."
"Do you suggest we send Potter on a treasure trail?"
"Well... Dumbledore just said we can't just give it to him. Do you intend to give Harry some sort of fake quest?"
"Depending on where he is, I intend to leave it somewhere dangerous; somewhere he will need to risk his life to retrieve it."
"So he needs to know where to find it. If we leave it somewhere, then leave him a clue at Godric's Hollow -"
"We cannot leave the sword unprotected for an indeterminate amount of time. He needs to find it mere minutes after we place it."
"So he needs a cue. A reason to follow a trail without knowing it's us."
"I had considered a patronus," Snape mused. "But I cannot be sure he would follow it..."
"That's it!" Abbie exclaimed. "We leave a message for him, telling him to follow the patronus when it comes. But it needs to be vague, something he wouldn't understand the meaning of until he saw it. Then, once we find out where he is, we place the sword and cast the patronus. He follows it and finds the sword."
For a moment, Snape didn't respond. Then, without a word of explanation, he turned on his heel and retreated to his living quarters. He returned a few moments later, carrying a pile of clothes and a potion vial.
"Take this," he instructed her. "Polyjuice potion. The Dark Lord has spies placed all around Godric's Hollow, we cannot be seen there."
"What - you want to go now?"
"Is there a reason to hesitate?"
"...I guess not."
"Then take your clothes off, drink this, and get dressed. I'll return soon."
***
The village of Godric's Hollow was eerily quiet. When a pop came from within an alleyway, a cat screeched and ran out, but otherwise the village remained undisturbed. A few moments later, the dark alleyway birthed two figures, a man and a woman, unknown to the area but distinctly unremarkable.
"I wish you'd taken the short one," Abbie grumbled as she tried to maintain a casual stride with legs much shorter than she was used to. "I'd like to be taller than you for once."
"Hush," Snape hissed. Although the face of the baby-faced blonde man he'd taken on was as opposite to him as possible, his grumpy expression was still distinctly Snape-like. "Let us be quick and quiet about this."
He led the way through the streets until they came to a square. Abbie, lagging behind with her frustratingly short legs, was confused when Snape stopped in the middle of the square, staring up at what seemed like an ordinary war memorial. But when she approached, it transformed into a statue. A young couple stood staring heroically out into the distance, the woman cradling a baby in her arms. The man looked just like Harry, minus the scar.
As she came level with him, Abbie saw Snape's face was frozen. He stared up at the woman, his face unreadable. She gently slipped her hand into his, and he jumped slightly.
Snape tore his eyes from the statue and turned to look at Abbie. She couldn't imagine what was going through his head right now, and she silently admonished herself for not volunteering to do this alone.
"Have you ever been here?" she asked softly.
Snape looked back up at Lily Potter's stone face. "No," he said quietly. "I... wouldn't dare."
Abbie looked at Lily too now. Even in stone, her face looked kind.
"Dad... I know I never knew her, but... I think if she knew what you were doing -"
"Don't," Snape said sharply. "Please, Abbie... just don't."
He closed his eyes and hung his head for a moment then, purposely avoiding looking at the statue again, he walked away, and Abbie followed him.
"Where are we going?"
"I may not have been here before," Snape said, his voice normal now, "but there were enough articles about the Potters' house in the Daily Prophet after they died. I recall the directions."
Snape led her down a dark street, past rows of cottages, until they reached the last house before the street turned into a winding country road.
The building was, without a doubt, derelict. Nature had taken over, vines wrapped around the rubble and high hedges blocking any access to the building itself. On the top floor was a gigantic hole; no doubt what was once baby Harry's bedroom before Voldemort blew it apart. The broken building stood in stark contrast to the pretty cottages beside it, which seemed to glow in the summer sun.
"Do you truly think he will come here?" Snape asked quietly.
"Yes."
"Very well."
Snape stepped forward and placed his hand on the gate. From within the overgrown garden rose a sign, which stopped close enough that they could reach out and touch it.
"Here," he said. "Potter will see it here."
Snape pulled a quill from his pocket, but he hesitated, then wordlessly handed it to Abbie.
The sign was already littered with messages, and regretfully, Abbie waved her wand to clear it. She leant over the gate and carefully marked the sign with the clue she had been composing since their arrival.
Legend will tell the tale
Of the fox and the nightingale.
"That'll do, won't it? Vague enough to seem like nonsense. Distinctive enough that he'll remember it. So when he sees a patronus - either yours or mine - he'll be curious enough to follow it."
"The tale of the fox and the nightingale," Snape mused. "It sounds like a muggle fable."
"Fables are meant to teach a moral lesson. What lesson does our story teach?"
Snape thought for a moment, then said, "Your children will always find their way back to you... so don't have them, they do nothing but annoy."
Abbie laughed and nudged her shoulder against his - or attempted to, anyway - she was too short now, and nudged his elbow instead.
"Let's get out of here," she muttered. "This house is creepy and I want my body back."
"As do I," Snape agreed, and he took her arm to apparate them back to the castle, where they both quickly changed back into their own bodies and robes. When Snape emerged from his quarters, having dressed quickly with magic, Abbie was still dressing in the office, and he caught a glimpse of the scar across her stomach as she buttoned up her shirt.
"Don't ever make me short again," she remarked with a smirk.
Snape ignored the comment and sat down at his desk, rubbing his temple. Silently, Abbie poured a drink from his cabinet and handed it to him. He took it gratefully, not looking at her as he swallowed a sip of the bitter drink.
"You're very brave, you know," she said after a few moments.
He looked up at her then.
"That can't have been easy."
"It wasn't," he admitted. "But I had you."
"You always will."
He smiled then, and took her hand. "As you have me. Always."