Work Text:
“Miss Torrance, come here. You too, Potter,” McGonagall called one afternoon when classes had just ended. Harley glanced over at her brother and he shrugged, not knowing what she wanted either.
“Mr. Potter’s Firebolt seems to be perfectly fine,” McGonagall said when we were all out in the hallway. That elicited an excited whoop from Harry, at which Harley rolled her eyes.
“And what does that have to do with me, ma’am?” Harley asked.
“As Gryffindor prefect, I would like you to accompany Potter to the Quidditch pitch and watch his practice. He needs to get used to the new broom before the match against Slytherin,” McGonagall replied. “With Black and the dementors about, we can’t be too careful.”
Harley was almost relieved. “May I bring my studies with me?”
“Certainly.”
And so she walked with her brother to the pitch, setting up a little nook for herself, Transfiguring a torn piece of a Slytherin banner into a blanket to sit on as Harry fixed up his uniform and mounted his broom, taking off.
Harley admitted that Harry was a good flier. She was no judge, but she did see a few Quidditch matches and practices, and Harry was by far faster and had more finesse than the other players, even Fred.
Every so often she’d stop her studying to check the grounds and her brother, finding everything to be satisfactory each time and going right back to her reading. The book she’d gotten on famous potioneers in history was engrossing and she made notes on a scrap of parchment, wanting to improve ideas they had that were never implemented in the past.
As the sun was setting before dinner, Harry seemed to be satisfied with his broom and came down in a smooth landing.
“Malfoy might not know what hit him on Saturday,” Harley said, standing up and gathering her books and parchment.
Harry beamed, not used to compliments from his sister. “We’re all hoping. Especially Wood.”
Harley smirked. “Yes, Fred claims he’s barely eating, sleeping, or studying. Just focusing on this game like his very existence depends on it. Truth be told, I pay about as much attention to him as I do flobberworms.” Not being much of a joker, she was certain that Harry would laugh, but he was uncharacteristically silent. She looked up and saw why.
Harry was motionless, his broom dropped from his hands, staring at a figure in the distance. His green eyes were wide and unblinking with fear.
The Grim.
No , Harley realised. That can’t be a Grim unless it’s coming for both of us. It’s real, some kind of massive hound. What if it’s rabid?
As she was rationalising this, the Grim bounded closer, suddenly just a few yards away instead of metres and her nerves were singing. She’d never dealt with anything like this. They should run, but it could easily overtake them and kill them. Best to stand still and see if it went away. If not, she’d try some spells on it.
However, her brother was in no rational position whatsoever. Fear had taken him prisoner.
“For Merlin’s sake, Potter, get behind me!” she snapped, yanking him behind her. He was smaller than she was, so she shielded him fairly completely. She wasn’t a self-sacrificing person, but she had a natural instinct to protect someone currently incapable of protecting themselves.
The dog bounded even closer, growling but not slobbering or foaming at the mouth. Harley was pretty sure it wasn’t rabid, but it was angry...and it looked hungry. Its thick black fur was matted, torn away in some places, and it looked far too skinny.
“If it comes at us, run and get a head start,” she told Harry, who nodded weakly. Slowly, she removed her wand from the pocket of her robes. Holding it firmly at her side, she maintained eye contact with the beast. It was so close she could smell it: the thing needed to be bathed badly.
It looked almost as if it hated her. She knew that was madness, but it was true nonetheless as she looked in its dark eyes.
Suddenly, it barked and ran around them in a semicircle, going for Harry. At least the boy had been right about one thing: whatever this dog was, it wanted him. Harley tossed her brother behind her again, holding her wand aloft.
“ Stupefy !” she cast, but the beast dodged it, now heading for her. In the moment, staring into it’s snarling mouth and hate-filled eyes, she couldn’t recall the blocking spell.
The dog knocked into her, as tall as she was when it was on its hind legs, and she struggled with it, keeping its fangs away from her.
Claws dug deeply into her left arm and she screamed in pain, somehow tossing the thing from her.
It began to bound away, and she cast spells after it. One edge of diffindo caught it on the tail, and she took pleasure in its pained yelps, as she tried to control her own pain. Glancing down at her arm, she saw she was bleeding from four jagged tears in her flesh from its claws. She’d heal it herself, but what if it was infected? What if the beast was somehow Dark? She needed the hospital wing.
“Oh, Hell,” Harry said, gingerly taking Harley’s wand arm in his hands. “You--you need to get inside.”
“Really? I thought I might admire the bloody stars!” Harley said, glad her legs hadn’t been injured as they made their way hurriedly back into the castle. She was leaving a thin trail of blood behind her as she walked.
Harry ran ahead once they got into the front hall, calling for McGonagall, who appeared quickly, she must have been nearby.
“Oh my stars, Harley, what happened to you?” she asked, coming to the teen’s side. “Was it Sirius Black?”
Harley shook her head. “A dog. Quite a large one. Hagrid might need to be informed in case it goes after Fang.”
“We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey.” McGonagall said, putting her arm around Harley and turning her around. “You, too, Potter. Just in case.”
They were about to turn around when Snape appeared in his usual diffident state. When he saw Harley, however, his black eyes widened and he hurried over to her other side.
“Who did this to you?” he asked her.
“She claims it was a dog,” McGonagall said. “Severus, can you heal these? You might have more in your stores than even Pomfrey does.”
“Of course. Come on, with me.” With one last look behind him at the puddle of blood, Severus put his arms around Harley and began to lead her into the dungeons. She hated to be rude to her Head of House or the Mediwitch, but she felt much better--safer--knowing that Snape was the one taking care of her. Her friends would think she was insane, but she trusted him more than anyone else at that school.
Snape took her into his office and told her to sit in his chair, the large leather wingback behind the mahogany desk.
“You can fix these, right?” she asked, hating how her voice was wavering a bit as the adrenaline was fading and the pain was starting to set in.
“Of course. Be still,” Snape said, bustling with various jars and phials. “Here we are.”
Just then, his office door opened, and Lupin was standing there. “Harley, I just saw McGonagall and--”
“And decided to barge in without knocking, like the Gryffindor you are,” Snape interrupted, going to Harley’s injured side, effectively ignoring the werewolf. “Now, this potion I’ll pour into the wounds themselves. It will immediately take away any infection.” Severus held a bottle filled with filmy white liquid over her arm. “I am sorry but...this will hurt.”
She nodded. Snape held her arm steady at the wrist as he poured the contents of the phial over the wounds and it did hurt. The sting was felt through her entire arm, every nerve ending set ablaze. It took all of her control not to cry out. She refused to let Snape see her weak.
“All right, part two,” Snape said. He let her wrist go and took out his wand. “ Dimoveo !” There was a sucking sensation in her arm and Harley saw the potion come back out, clear this time. “ Evanesco ! ...Excellent, no infection or Dark enchantment in your bloodstream.”
Harley sighed with relief, but now the pain was back, and blood was beginning to leak out again.
“Now the easier part. Hold still, little girl. I’ve got you.” Snape held her hand as he waved his wand over the wounds. “ Vulnera sanentur .” He repeated the phrase over each gash, healing them up instantly. The pain was gone.
She leaned her head back against the top of the chair, closing her eyes.
“Harley, what happened, exactly?” Lupin asked.
She sighed, opening her eyes. Snape was glaring at her godfather at her side, while Lupin was standing on the other side of the desk.
“A dog, the one Harry kept thinking was a Grim. It attacked us. I swear, it was going straight for Harry, so I...intercepted. Got it in the arse, too. I might have blown its tail off,” she said, feeling her nerves beginning to shake, realising just how close she had come to dying.
“Big and black? Might have looked a bit peaky?” Lupin asked.
She nodded. “I hope Hagrid shoots it next time it shows up.”
“Is it a friend of yours, Remus?” Snape asked dryly. “Perhaps you gambol with it...in the moonlight?”
Harley bit her lip, but a laugh escaped anyway. Lupin looked between them and just shook his head.
Snape moved away and got two more bottles from the shelves behind the desk. “Here, you’re shaking.” He handed her a calming potion and she drank it quickly.
“Thank you, Professor,” she said, feeling its effects immediately.
“Now this.” He held out another phial.
“What is it?” she asked, having never seen it before.
“Blood replenishing elixir.”
Harley shook her head. “I don’t need that, sir. I’m fine.”
“That pool of blood in the entryway says differently,” Snape commented, still holding the bottle in front of her.
“I’m all right, sir, honestly,” Harley said. She was certain her weakness was just from adrenaline.
“Humour me.” He put the bottle in front of her on the desk. “I am responsible for you, little girl. I will not let you leave this office until I am certain you are well.”
“If you insist, sir,” she said with a sigh. She didn’t want him to know how pleased she was with his concern. After years of perfunctory affection from her adoptive parents, his genuine care was refreshing and welcomed.
She took the potion, which tasted like blood, if she was being honest and stood up, a bit wobbly on her feet.
Snape steadied her and said, “Can you get to your dorm on your own?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for everything,” Harley said. “I think I’d be better with some sleep.”
Snape nodded. “Yes. I will have the house elves send you something to eat as well.” He placed a hand on her back, and again she felt comforted.
“’Bye, Remus,” she said. “Thanks for coming to check on me.”
Remus smiled weakly. “What are godfathers for?”
“If you feel sick or dizzy in the night, come see me. I do not care what time it is,” Snape said sternly. “...And burn those robes.”
Harley nodded, smiling. “I will, sir. And again, thank you.”
****
Watching Harley walk unsteadily out the door, Snape, released a breath and vanished the blood pooled under his chair before slumping down in it, not caring that Lupin was seeing him in a weakened state.
Coming into the hall, seeing his daughter with that blood covering her robes and pooled beneath her, he nearly swooned.
“Well, that was...eventful,” Lupin said.
“Why are you still in here?” Snape asked. “As you can see, Harley is fine so you can go about your business.”
Lupin didn’t respond, he was looking at his worn shoes. “I...have an apology to make.”
“Oh?” Snape said, leaning back and looking up at him.
Lupin finally looked up at him. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Immensely.” Snape smiled thinly.
“Well, I’m sorry for what I said back in September,” Lupin said grudgingly. “It’s clear now how much you care about Harley. ...And she really loves you. She’s a pretty cold kid, almost as bad as you were. I see her with Fred, I see her with you, and that’s when Lily really shows through. As much as I hate to admit it, you’re a natural with her.”
Snape nodded his thanks. “Since you’re in a sharing mood...what is that dog? Has it something to do with Black?”
Lupin shrugged. “Possibly.”
“And you didn’t tell anyone? Is it his familiar?” Snape pressed.
“Doesn’t matter: Harley already has everyone looking to kill it now. Sirius and the dog will be caught...one way or another.”
Snape glared up at him. “Let us hope that happens without my daughter becoming injured once again. Or it will be on your head, not just Black’s.”
****
Grimmauld Place
Christmas, 1995
With Sirius being in such a good mood, Harley decided it was safe to ask him a question she had been wondering about.
“So, tell me, how come you tried to maim me before you knew me?” she asked Sirius.
He arched an eyebrow. “Sorry, what now? Making false claims about me?”
“No. When you were skulking about in your Animagus form, and you showed up on the Quidditch pitch. I tried to protect Harry, and you tore my arm to near ribbons,” Harley said, holding up said appendage, which was perfectly smooth thanks to Snape.
Sirius paused and then said, “Oh, that. Well, you see, when an Animagus is in our animal form, our minds usually stay human and we just lose the capability of speech, but I was in my form so long I started thinking more and more like a dog. So I saw you, pulling at Harry, and I thought he was in danger.”
“Because you thought I was my father,” Harley guessed. She rolled her eyes. “Why did I not think of that?”
“Because, little girl, you are not as narrow-minded as he is,” Snape replied, bringing her a fresh hot chocolate from the kitchen.
Sirius stuck his tongue out at Snape, like the child he was.
“You know, sometimes I feel like we’re parenting you both,” Harry said with a smile, seeming to have recovered some of his poor spirits.
“I will refrain from taking points for that, Potter,” Snape grumbled.
Harley looked around and smiled. This certainly did seem like one big family, and she felt happy right where she was, in this moment in time.