𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

the one with the valentine's

“Every wound will shape
me. Every scar will
built my throne.”

•

ON THE VERY LAST day of the holidays, something happened that made Harry positively dread his return to school. It happened as I was engaging in a particularly fierce game of chess with him.

"Harry dear," said Mrs Weasley, poking her head into his and Ron's bedroom, where the pair of them were playing wizard chess against me, watched by Hermione, Ginny, and Crookshanks, "could you come down to the kitchen? Professor Snape would like a word with you."

Harry did not immediately register what she had said; one of his castles was engaged in a violent tussle with a pawn of mine, and he was egging it on enthusiastically. "Squash him —  squash him, he's only a pawn, you idiot — sorry, Mrs Weasley, what did you say?"

"Professor Snape is here to see you," I said with a smirk. "We should go."

Harry's mouth fell open in horror. He looked around at Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, all of whom were gaping back and forth at me and him. Crookshanks, whom Hermione had been restraining with difficulty for the past quarter of an hour, leapt gleefully upon the board and set the pieces running for cover, squealing at the top of their voices.

"Snape?" said Harry blankly.

"Professor Snape, dear," said Mrs Weasley reprovingly. "Now come on, quickly, he says he can't stay long."

"You've not done anything," I said, tugging his arm. "Let's go now. You know how he hated waiting."

I pushed open the kitchen door a minute or two later to find Sirius and Snape both seated at the long kitchen table, glaring in opposite directions. The silence between them was heavy with mutual dislike. A letter lay open on  the table in front of Sirius.

"Er," said Harry to announce his presence.

I on the other hand wasn't so subtle. "Good evening!" I nearly shouted. "Professor, why were you here for Christmas? I had all the rare potion ingredients I could fine for you as Christmas gift! Here—"

I grabbed a large box that I collected from the mantle and passed it to him. Snape stared down at it. "Aconite, Abraxan hair, Bezoar, powdered Unicorn horn, dragon claws and many more. And," I stuffed my hand into my pocket and brought out something I knit. "Mittens. In green. It gets rather cold in the dungeons."

Snape stared at them for a long time before looking up at me. The corners of his lips were twitching as if he were attempting to hide a smile. "Thank you, Firegold. The sentiment is appreciated. Did you say there was a Bezoar?"

"Yes! It was hard to get one but I found it. Reliable sources, pure quality. I think the gryffin claw would also interest you."

Snape's eyes actually twinkled for a second before he looked around at Harry, his face framed between curtains of greasy black hair. "Sit down, Potter."

"You know," said Sirius loudly, leaning back on his rear chair legs and speaking to the ceiling, "I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders here, Snape. It's my house, you see."

An ugly flush suffused Snape's pallid face. Harry sat down in a chair beside Sirius, facing Snape across the table and I lingered around before sitting at the head of the table. "What?" I said to Sirius who looked at me. "I'm a neutral party."

"I was supposed to see you alone, Potter," said Snape, the familiar sneer curling his mouth, "perhaps just with Firegold since she tails you everywhere, but Black —"