The Era of Aria Snape

80

Chapter Eighty

Aria, darling

Lily's sweet voice spoke into her ears. Aria had read the letter over and over again, trying to recreate her mother's voice inside of her head, but each time the familiarity to it faded more and more until she could only faintly understand how her mother would have said it.

I want you to understand that I didn't have a choice when I gave you up. I was fresh out of school. You were my first child, one that I couldn't provide for, one whose life would have been ruined if I had kept you.

Tears formed in Aria's eyes for the third time as she sat on the train back home, alone in a compartment.

That doesn't mean that I didn't fall unconditionally in love with you the first time I held you in my arms. You were so small, so perfect. You looked like me, had my eyes, but your father's mouth. I love that about you.

I love everything about you.

I don't want you to blame Severus for any of this, it was my wish that you not be told. Not until the danger had passed. Voldemort has been running rampant, killing muggles all over the place. I couldn't risk your life over my blood status, so I sent you away.

I regret it every day.

But if you're reading this, it means that we will be reunited soon.

I love you, my child.

Forever and always,
Lily

Aria allowed a tear to fall from her eyes and onto her robes as she tucked the letter neatly away into her pocket.

The scenery flashed by her window at speeds too quick for her to see anything. Not that she cared to.

The scenery was of little importance at a time like this—everything seemed to be of little importance.

Once she had woken up after the third task, things were different. So much had changed and yet, everyone acted as if nothing had.

It had been revealed that Barty Crouch Jr. (using polyjuice potion to disguise himself as Professor Moody) was the one to have entered Aria's name into the Goblet by instruction of none other than the Dark Lord himself.

Once that became public knowledge, rumors had spread like wildfire, now not only was her father a Death Eater, she was too. According to some, Aria was the living embodiment of Voldemort himself.

It was all the new hot topic to gossip about, especially considering that the whole school was now aware of the fact that she and Harry Potter shared a parent.

It appeared as if everyone had known before she had even had the chance to process it.

Cedric's memorial had not been fun either. Aria had run out crying. She felt a gaping hole in her chest whenever she thought of Cedric, be it because she had still been in love with him or because she had to watch him die right in front of her eyes, the reason wasn't clear, nor did it matter.

All that mattered was that she was alright, at least that's what Professor Snape had said.

He had been so wrong. That wasn't what mattered at all, not now.

Aria was furious at her father. He had lied to her for years when he knew that she was desperate to find her mother. He had known all along that her mother was dead and he still let her have hope and search high and low for a woman who she thought didn't want her.

She held her hand over the letter, sighing deeply.

A light rap on her compartment door made Aria jump. She looked away, wiping her eyes in a hurry before glancing towards the door.

"Oh, Harry. It's just you." She unlocked it and allowed him in.

He closed the door behind himself and sat opposite Aria.

The pair had hardly spoken, not for lack of effort, but because of lack of privacy. There was always someone listening in to get the latest scandal, be it Rita Skeeter, Nosy Matilda, or heck even her father.

"How are you holding up?" Harry asked her.

She shot her red eyes towards him, tear stains lining her cheeks. "How does it look like I'm holding up?" She snapped through gritted teeth. Truth be told, she wasn't holding up at all. Decaying slowly would have been more accurate regarding her current mental predicament.

Harry nodded knowingly. "Me too, Ari."

The use of a nickname had taken Aria by surprise, but she accepted it. The one person who had not made her feel absolutely rubbish in the past few days was Harry himself. He had been incredibly supportive, but not overbearing.

Aria closed her eyes and pressed the back of her head into the seat. She just wanted to leave.

She couldn't sleep, for when she did nightmares woke her back up.

She couldn't speak to her friends, they were all bloodthirsty traitors, most of them anyway, and the ones who weren't had avoided Aria, for the most part, only occasionally smiling at her in sympathy.

She couldn't even show her face in many places. Headlines fluttered all across the Wizarding world, "The Boy Who Lived has a Sister!" One said. "The Girl Who Lived!" Another displayed. Her favorite, in particular, was the one that read out "Harry is Related to Voldemort." She scoffed at the thought.

Her eyes opened a crack. Harry didn't seem to be doing too well either. Bags under his eyes, hair messier than usual, a crack in his glasses, and a slight bit of stubble on his jaw paired with a half tucked-in shirt and mismatching socks— he appeared to be a right mess.

That's how Aria felt inside.

She reached out for his hand, feeling his envelope hers and squeeze it. She patted the seat next to her and rested her head on his shoulder as he took it.

"I've got your back now, Harry." She whispered. "I've never had a proper family and now I have you. You can count on me for anything."

She felt a small smile appear on his face. "I'm glad to have you, Aria. Anything you need I'm here for."

Aria nodded slowly and closed her eyes. Everything was such a mess. Nothing seemed certain and everything that did eventually unraveled itself until it didn't make sense anymore.

The only thing that made sense was this.

Harry was at her side. She didn't know why she hadn't seen it before, she had missed out on so much time with him. She was determined to not waste a second more, though. She was going to keep Harry safe from anything and everything because now she finally had someone that she knew she could count on to never let her down. And by Merlin was she going to cherish it.