Chapter Text
The Order meeting had been stressful, awaiting their spy to return with news of what was to come. Harry, only fifteen, was in his room along with the Weasleys and Hermione. No stress from school, at least for the moment. Perk of Summer. And with Sirius, he didn’t need to go to the Dursleys. The Ministry didn’t monitor his every move, just kept an eye out for rules broken.
Of course, no one expected the cold Slytherin to return with a little girl in his arms, sleeping. Especially not one so small.
Sirius, gesturing towards her, questioned, “Where the fuck did you find a kid? Certainly isn’t yours. She’s actually cute.”
“For your information, mutt,” he drawled, “she was outside when I arrived. A better question would be why the girl is outside your home, despite the protective charms. There’s no way she just found it.”
The conversation was brought to a halt by Molly. “You can discuss this later. When the poor thing isn’t at risk of over-hearing,” she whispered.
Severus nodded, agreeing, as did Sirius. They could handle the rivalry later. Right now, there’s a more pressing situation. Who is this child? Why are they here?
Her face was only semi-hidden. Dark hair atop her head, not dissimilar from what Sirius and Regulus’ looked like when they were younger, had small curls. Her hair just barely reached her back when down.
It was peaceful, like this. But pressing. If anything, her appearance left more questions and even fewer answers. She obviously cannot be Sirius’. He hasn’t had sex with anyone since before Azkaban, and even if he did, age wouldn’t line up. She’d either be around Harry’s age or two, at most.
Andromeda isn’t the mother and Dora’s certainly not been pregnant. Moody would know. Bella’s been in Azkaban, so she’s out. Regulus has been dead for over fifteen years and Narcissa, quite frankly, wouldn’t leave a child here. Even one she hadn’t planned.
Yet there is still something unmistakably familiar about her features. Eerily so. However, that’s a question for when the little girl wakes up. Until then, he ordered Kreacher to set up a bedroom. It would keep the cruel elf out of his hair for the time being and after, he called the children down.
If this child would stay for even a night, they deserved to be kept in the loop. At least when it came to things age appropriate, such as the potential new housemate.
And as such, soon Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George all came down, not sure what to expect. But certainly weren’t prepared for what was seen.
Professor Snape, holding a tiny, sleeping child. One whom, even despite their age, bore a resemblance to someone they knew.
A few moments of staring and even more listening to the explanation given, the children were caught up.
Ginny, much like her mother, was silent. She needed to process the information, allow it to sink in. After all, any questions asked spur of the moment could accidentally wake the little girl. The twins seemed to be plotting something, perhaps scheming to make the girl laugh. With being found in the rain, held by the scariest professor, she could use it. The Golden Trio, however, wanted to know more.
Questions were asked by both children and adult. No one was quite certain what to do with her until Kreacher was finished. Not to mention attempt to find out who the familiar child was, clad in nothing but a soaked, white play dress, needed to be a priority.
Professor Snape certainly didn’t look comfortable holding her, yet she had arms wrapped around his neck and he didn’t seem keen to set her down, despite the discomfort.
The constant voices began to grow louder and the mystery child began to squirm, as if she were waking up.
Brown eyes fluttered open and immediately filled with fright. She looked as if she were about to cry before asking to be set down.
Severus did as he was asked, and she stayed somewhat close to him. He was one of the few remaining mostly silent. The others being the twins, Ron, and Harry.
Of course, now awake, she was practically forced into the spotlight and gently questioned. Only four, it grew overwhelming immediately. While they weren’t loud and were relatively good at avoiding interruptions, that didn’t change it being too much.
So many new faces, all asking her things. Where were Mother and Father? Why didn’t she know these people?
Noticing the girl growing closer to tears, having not answered a single question, Molly told everyone to hush before gently inquiring, “Sweetheart, can you tell us your name?”
The child looked as if she considered answering, until a newer, more familiar face caught her eye. Kreacher had returned, having finished the bedroom.
He looked shocked, and after a few seconds, had a four year old girl hugging his torso, finally allowing her tears to spill.
“K’eacher!” she cried, both upset and relieved