Chapter Text
Severus Snape was not enjoying his summer vacation at Spinner’s End. It was marginally better than in his days as a student at Hogwarts, but not by much. Only a week had gone by, and he was already becoming weary of sitting in his worn armchair, working his way through the rather extensive library at his disposal. Bored and frustrated, he decided to take an evening walk.
He was hardly a block from his front door when, looking up at the oppressive storm clouds, he began to regret his choice of clothing. His muggle wardrobe left much to be desired. Not paying attention, he had chosen a very thin dress shirt, which was soaked through within minutes. The weather was in that confused state of more-than-mist and less-than-rain that can’t quite be warded off by an umbrella, but still makes you wish you had brought one along.
Without any necessary guidance, Snape’s feet found their way along the familiar roads of his hometown. He wandered unconsciously to the playground where he and Lily had met. For the thousandth time since he’d been home he let his mind dwell on their time together, both happy and sad. His memories of her were so vivid; it was as if they had been children here together only yesterday. He leaned on the fence between the decrepit park and the crumbling sidewalk, and he thought he could see Lily sitting on the swing, and hear the creak of the rusting chains. In fact, he was sure that someone was sitting there.
For a moment Snape let himself believe that his friend was returned to him by some miracle, but a lifetime of disappointment quickly sobered him. Looking closer, there was indeed a girl of nine or ten with her back to him, with the same dark red hair as the young Evans, but pin-straight and falling only to her shoulders. No, this was not Lily, but something within the sullen potions master made him approach her anyway.
Snape trod silently until he was mere feet from the stranger, then said in a voice that had cowed many men greater than she, “A bit late to be playing outside, don’t you think?”
The response was immediate. She leapt up and whipped around to face her potential attacker, fearless determination etched into every feature. With a steady tone she demanded, “Who are you? What do you want?”
In a rare moment of spontaneity, he replied honestly, “Severus Snape. I want you to go home before someone gets worried that a young girl is alone at night during a storm that seems like it’s going to be very…” He paused to glance up at the darkening clouds, “unpleasant.”
The girl maintained her scowl and glared at the ground, muttering, “Don’t have a home. No one to worry.” Snape glanced over at the frayed rucksack on the ground.
“Running away, are we?” The professor drawled. She continued to stare at the ground, shoulders shaking slightly, whether from the cold or from the effort of holding back tears, Snape could not tell. He asked more gently, “What’s your name?”
She sniffled and said “Ellie.” Then her urgent eyes met Snape’s and she begged, “You’re not going to turn me in, are you?”
Snape examined her again. Just moments before, she had looked like the most confident girl in the world, but now her young face was tense and her whole body was shaking. He hadn’t seen anyone that terrified since - well, a very long time ago. Snape assumed the usual authoritative demeanor that he always used with his students. “No, Ellie. I will not, as you say, turn you in.” Ellie let out her breath in one huge sigh of relief, as if she had just avoided death itself. “However,” Snape continued, to Ellie’s disappointment, “I cannot allow you to roam the streets at night.” To reinforce the message, there was a great clap of thunder and the clouds finally decided that they did want to rain after all, and this time they meant business.
Ellie started to ask where she was supposed to go but she stopped when Snape continued, “I live nearby. After we get out of the rain, we can discuss what to do with you.”
Ellie didn’t like the way he said “What to do with you.” It reminded her of her teachers that liked to carry a ruler with them at all times, and not for measuring. But she didn’t know what else to do. She hadn’t planned very far ahead. She got to “pack a bag and leave” and hadn’t thought much beyond that. Her latest foster family had been awful. Not as bad as the alcoholic she had before, but the Moores didn’t give her anything that could be called a proper bedroom. She thought that it had once been a pantry, and despite her proximity to the kitchen she practically wasn’t allowed to eat at all. Returning to the orphanage briefly crossed her mind, but she knew that she would only be sent back to another family that didn’t really want her. So, Ellie packed her things and snuck out while the couple was happily watching telly.
Now, she found herself following a mysterious, and frankly suspicious, stranger back to his house, despite the fact that every adult she’d ever known would have advised against it. But she was cold, and wet, and didn’t have anywhere else to go. So after ten or so minutes of walking, they arrived at an old brick house, barely in better condition than the abandoned ones around it. She was just about making up her mind to run away after all, when Severus opened the front door, and she caught a glimpse of a bookshelf. Unable to resist, she followed Snape into his home and stood, dripping, in the middle of the room.
Books. Books! More books than she had ever seen. Older, as well. Four walls from floor to ceiling, filled. These weren’t just school textbooks; these were heavy leather-bound masterpieces with embossed covers and silver lettering on the spine. Despite herself, Ellie began to trust this Severus Snape. People who didn’t read were stupid and mean in her experience, so by her logic anyone with a Library had to be good.
Snape interrupted her reverie and commanded, “Stay here.” Then he opened a hidden door in the wall and ascended a flight of narrow stairs. Ellie did her best to obey, but the books were so tempting. After only a minute or two, before her will broke, Snape returned with two towels, and handed one of them to her, while she continued to stare hungrily at the books.
“Do you like to read?”
She briefly wondered if it was some sort of trick question, but decided against it. “Yes, very much. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many books all in one place before.”
“Before you start dripping on any of my rare and expensive books, you may want to change into some dry clothes. Do you have a spare in your bag?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sorry?”
“When you address me it will be as sir, or Professor Snape. Understood?”
“Yes… Professor? Are you a teacher?”
“Yes. Does that surprise you?” His curt reply and icy stare clearly indicated that any affirmative answer to that question would result in great displeasure for young Ellie.
“No, sir.”
“Very good. The bathroom is this way.” Snape led the way back to the staircase, and Ellie followed, taking in the shabby view around her. At the top of the stairs there was a short hallway, lined with plain wooden doors. The worn floorboards creaked with every step, and she couldn’t help thinking that the whole place could do with a little more light. There didn’t even seem to be any electricity. There were only lanterns hanging from the ceiling with slowly burning candles. Frankly, the whole house should have been condemned as a fire hazard. “It’s the last door on the left. You can leave your clothes to dry on the tub. I will change as well,” He indicated a door to his right, “And then I will meet you downstairs.”
Ellie entered the bathroom to find it had the same air of disuse as the rest of the house. It probably hadn’t been redecorated anytime in the last half century and only barely served its necessary functions. She wondered if the shower even got hot water. Well, it would explain the professor’s greasy appearance at any rate. Leaving her clothes hanging over the side of the tub, she came out in a (relatively) dry pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt. She went back to the library where Snape was already waiting.
“Have you had dinner yet? I could prepare something.” Snape inquired, unfurling himself from the armchair.
After spending her entire life relying on others to eat, she knew that people rarely actually wanted to share their food. Besides, she was already imposing too much. She replied as politely as possible, “I’m not hungry, thank you.”
Snape scrutinized the girl for a moment then said, “I did not ask whether you were hungry or not. I asked whether you had eaten tonight.” Seeing that she was about to deny the fact, Snape added, “Do not lie to me.”
When Ellie finally realized that the offer was more than just courtesy, she answered, “No, sir. I haven’t.”
Snape continued, “Good. Neither have I. While I get supper ready, you can look through the books if you like.” Ellie couldn’t control showing some excitement at this, despite her efforts to remain cool and collected. It was a simple safety precaution, as far as she was concerned. Her constant changing of homes and lack of any sort of long-term friends or family invited a lot of ridicule at the various schools she had attended. But when she didn’t react to their taunts, they usually just got bored and left her alone. There were only two times in her life when she had encountered a really relentless bully.
The first time was at a new school a couple towns over, when she was only in kindergarten. She was staying in a foster home with an old couple. They weren’t mean to her per se, but they sometimes forgot that she was there. Brian Bunt was the big bad in her grade, and for some reason he delighted in teasing her constantly, at every chance he got. One day he stole her notebook and ran off with it. When he was running he tripped over a pile of blocks and landed right on his face. It broke his nose. His parents withdrew him from the school because of “negligent teachers.” Ellie never had to lift a finger against him, or even raise her voice. The problem just took care of itself. Ellie’s problems usually did.
When the old couple got tired of her, they sent her back to the orphanage. After that she always took her classes at the orphanage itself, rather than a real school. Other children were allowed to switch schools all the time, but Ellie thought that they were still secretly blaming her for Brian's accident, and wanted to keep an eye on her.
Two years later there were a couple of older girls in the orphanage who called her horse-face, which wasn't entirely inaccurate. Her teeth were a bit too big for her face, but she hoped she'd grow into them. Still, the two girls would tease her at every chance and invited all the other children to join in the taunts. Both girls came down with mysterious illnesses and had to be moved to a special facility. After that, the rumors spread that Ellie was bad luck, and if you got too close she would curse you. Ellie didn’t understand the allegations. She hadn’t even done anything. They were mean, and they got what they deserved. If anything, thought Ellie, she was lucky. But Ellie didn’t deny the rumors. It gave her an excuse not to talk to people, which is how she liked it anyway. Just her and her books.
Professor Snape was not done talking. “Be warned, though. You may only read the books within your reach. If they cannot be easily accessed it is because they are not meant to be touched. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.” Ellie replied, not unhappily. There were a hundred books within her reach, and she didn’t feel the need to read the ones higher up. They looked very old. She supposed that they were too delicate to be trusted with a child. She didn’t want to blow her chance at exploring the library by challenging his command. Her curiosity was piqued, of course, but weighing the pros and cons left her very satisfied with what she had been freely offered.
Of course, Snape’s reason for not wanting her to snoop on the higher shelves was that that was where he kept the books on magic. Most of the lower shelves were filled with muggle literature and history, with a significant section containing books on muggle science. The few shelves within reach that held wizard-written books were simple novels that would be called fantasy by any muggle who happened to read one. Content that his secret was safe, Snape turned on his heel and opened another concealed door, which he promptly closed behind him.
Left to her own devices and a fully stocked library, Ellie allowed herself to smile. She walked along the wall, dragging her hand over the spines of the books. There were some names and titles that she recognized: Homer, Shakespeare, Dickens, Orwell, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Don Quixote, War and Peace, etc. But there were other, stranger names that she did not recognize, like Toader, Bagshot, Oddpick, Slinkhard, and Jigger. Moving along the row she found herself in a section dedicated to modern physics and complex maths. She pulled one of the books out and scanned through it. She had been proud of herself for learning some pre-algebra before even reaching junior high school but this was another language. Ellie found herself wondering what exactly it was that Professor Snape taught.
He had more literature than any English teacher she had seen, but also books on sciences ranging from chemistry to astronomy, oddly mixed in with some books on astrology and divination. As she reached the fourth and final wall she found that it was full of nothing but history. There was the expected stuff about European history, dating from ancient Rome to “Advances in the twentieth Century: Next stop, time travel!” But there were also less common topics such as the colonization of Spanish South America, and Viking journals.
Satisfied that she had explored all that she was allowed to, Ellie chose Imperial Nomads: A History of Central Asia and sat down to read. After 30 or so minutes, Snape reentered the room and directed Ellie to follow him into the kitchen. Out of all the rooms in the house, this was the only one that felt even remotely modern. Snape ladled a good portion of some sort of stew into two bowls, and set them at opposite sides of a creaky wooden table, and gestured at one spindly chair for Ellie to sit.
Ellie expected him to start drilling her with questions right away, but instead he silently began to eat. She hesitantly sat down and picked up the slightly bent spoon. She politely ate several mouthfuls, slowly, as she had been taught. The professor didn’t look like someone who would be good at cooking, but Ellie found that it was really actually quite good. She suddenly remembered how hungry she was. How long had it been since she had really had a full meal? Three days? A week?
Since he was already ignoring proper dinner etiquette (as she had been taught) by not engaging in conversation, Ellie decided to dig in with gusto, and eat her fill, manners be damned. All too soon, the bowl was empty. She stared at it for a moment or two and wondered if it would be rude to ask for more.
Seeing that Ellie had finished, Snape stood up and refilled her bowl, then put it back down in front of her, still without saying a word. He knew that she couldn’t stay here for long. Despite her claim of having no one to worry, someone would start looking for her soon. However, she must have had a reason for leaving, and he couldn’t just send her home to face whatever unpleasant fate awaited her there. He knew that feeling all too well. She was far too thin, and her face far too sharp and angular for someone so young. He was glad that he decided to bring her in. In her state, a night in the rain could have killed her. Snape finished his first portion as Ellie looked up hopefully for thirds. He obliged, and then sat back down across from her with his fingers pressed together, and waited to ask his questions.
“Now. What to do with you. Any ideas, Miss Ellie?”
“You could just let me go on my way now, sir.” Ellie answered, without much hope.
“You seem to be under the impression that I would keep you here against your will. I assure you, you can leave at any time. However, I would advise against it.”
Ellie did not move from her chair, but rather sank back into it, finally resigning herself to whatever questions Snape had for her.
“Very well. Now, we begin. I think we both know that you ran away for a reason. As for what that reason is, I will not ask. The question is: Where should you go now? You can’t stay here. You could go back to wherever you were before, or we could find somewhere else. Do you have any family or friends with whom you could stay?”
Ellie clenched her fists in her lap and answered honestly, “I don’t have anywhere to go. I’m an orphan.” She prepared herself for the looks of pity that she usually received from adults and the insincere “Oh I’m so sorry. When did they die?” that inevitably followed. She hated that question. She always had to answer that they didn’t die. They didn’t want her to begin with. She was left at the orphanage as an infant, but Miss Trumble, the director, wasn’t legally allowed to tell Ellie who her mother was. It was in the contract. Ellie sometimes liked to imagine her parents together, with a daughter who was good at sports and smiled all the time, who made them very happy, like Ellie never would. But sometimes she liked to imagine that they were both dead, because it made it easier. She would explain to the concerned teacher or foster parent that she never knew and never would know her parents. It was usually at this point in the conversation that the pity drained out of their eyes and was replaced by a cold judgment that questioned her “breeding.”
But Snape did not look at her with pity. He simply asked, in the same way a medical examiner asks your height, weight, and age, whether she ran away from the orphanage. She said, “No. I ran away from my foster family. I wouldn’t run away from the orphanage. They would notice. But I thought that the Moores wouldn’t report it right away so… so I left.”
Snape nodded. “Well, Ellie, you are probably right about that. But I will have to bring you back to the orphanage. It’s Trumble’s Home for Girls, isn’t it? It isn’t far from here.”
Snape had never been there, but he had lived in that area for his entire life, and the place was infamous. They were supposedly a certified home and school, but he had never heard of any actual education happening there. He was loathe to send the young girl back there, but what choice did he have? Anyone whose eyes lit up that way when she entered the library deserved better than spelling lessons from Old Miss Trumble. She was nice enough, he had heard, but there wasn’t an intellectual bone in her body.
Ellie asked very seriously, but without much hope, “do I have to go back right away? They probably won’t even notice I’ve left until tomorrow morning.”
Snape said, “Again, Ellie, your thinking is probably correct. It is a bit too late to take you back now. We wouldn’t want to disturb Miss Trumble’s beauty sleep. No, I believe it would be best if you spent the night here. But we’ll be leaving first thing in the morning. We’ll have to walk, and I can’t detain you for too long. Best we both sleep early tonight. Have you finished eating?”
Ellie nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Snape put the dishes in the sink, and led Ellie back into the library. Very hesitantly, Ellie said, “er, if it’s alright with you, sir, could I read some more before I go to sleep? I mean, only if you don’t mind. Professor.”
Snape cracked one of his rare smiles and picked up Imperial Nomads. “Of course. You can read it upstairs. Bring your bag. The spare room should be ready. A bit dusty, but still serviceable I should think. This may surprise you, but I don’t get many guests.” It was a peculiar thing, the kindness he showed toward her. He had almost forgotten that it was possible to speak naturally to someone, and smile without any irony. It was not a beautiful smile. It was taut and thin, and made the corners of his eyes bunch up in a way that was not fitting for a man of his age, but scratched into a face that was always cold and calculating, it was a blessed piece of warmth.
But it was fleeting, and halfway up the stairs, Ellie wondered if she had perhaps imagined the whole thing. He somberly led her to her room and carefully lit a dozen candles for her. He said goodnight and closed the door with a creak and a thump.
Ellie whispered goodnight to the already-closed door, and settled into the bed with her book. It was dusty, and the bed sagged, but it was twice the size of the beds in the orphanage, and she had the room to herself. After a time, she blew out the candles and fell asleep, wishing that morning would never come.
The next morning, she was up before the sun. She should have been used to the feeling of waking up in a stranger’s home by now, but it was still jarring. Usually she at least knew what to do in the morning. All of her foster families had laid down the rules as soon as she walked in the door. Often before she even got a chance to put her things down. But that morning, she just sat in the bed, uncertain what to do. The room was very dark, and the candles had long since blown out. She fumbled around the bed table until she found the book of matches. After a few failed attempts, she got one of the candles lit. She threw her bag over her shoulder, and picked up her book and candle, thinking she might read downstairs until the professor was ready. Not wanting to wake the professor, she tiptoed across the room and opened the door as quietly as possible, but it creaked loudly in the eerie silence. She walked quietly across the thick carpet in the hallway and thought how easy it would be to just leave the house now without Professor Snape knowing.
She didn’t have a watch, but she trusted her internal clock. And her internal clock was saying that it couldn’t be later than 5:30 or 6 AM. The odds of the professor being up at this hour were pretty low. And yet, when she opened the door to the library, he was sitting in a chair, reading. He looked up and asked, "Are you ready to go?"
She blurted, "I haven't finished my book."
Severus said, "You can keep it. It's time to go back."
Ellie just nodded glumly and said, "Thank you, sir." She was not ready to go back.