The Visits

Part III: A Different Kind of Problem.

And here he was again: standing in front of a door behind which a quarrel with unknown Muggles awaited him. He lifted a hand to ring the bell, but at the same moment the door opened. A woman past her middle age bag jumped, startled by a black-clad person right in front of her.

"Mrs. Millikan?"

"Ah. No, no, inside." The woman brushed past him, happy to get away.

Snape knocked on the doorframe.

"Come in!"

The flat was medium sized, fairly unremarkable in terms of furniture. The "hall" was no more than a niche with a coat-rack and a shelf, and he could see the whole sitting room from there: a sofa, a table with chairs; and in front of a large television set an even larger armchair occupied by a slightly overweight woman, in a shapeless house-dress. She barely acknowledged his entrance.

"Mrs. Millikan?"

"Yes."

"My name's Snape; I'm from Hogwarts."

His words didn't produce much reaction.

"Yes?"

"You have received letters from us, I believe?"

She shrugged, obviously wanting to go back to her programme.

"I don't remember."

"They were addressed to your daughter," he prompted her.

"Did she do something at school?"

"You haven't read those letters? There were notes for you there."

"No."

"Did you receive them at all?"

Another shrug. Snape, who was starting to seethe, forced himself to stay calm.

"And where, if I may ask, do you store mail? Maybe you overlooked them among dozens of others?"

His irony was completely lost on her.

"There." She pointed towards the side shelf, where stood a large metal basket full of papers. From among a year's-worth of advertisements, Labour Party leaflets and pleas for donations from different organisations, he fished out four large yellow envelopes.

"Here they are. Hogwarts' letters of acceptance."

"Aha."

"Your daughter has been accepted to our school, ma'am. Are you going to let her attend?"

Just say no, you stupid cow, say no, pleaded a tiny voice in Snape's head.

"Why not?"

"Will you sign here, then?" he tore one envelope open and shoved the sheet under her nose. She grunted and scribbled her signature, her eyes leaving the TV screen only just long enough to put the pen to the place he pointed to with his finger.

Severus Snape pocketed the document. The mission was accomplished.

He was not sure why he didn't turn and leave at once. Was it the victory which came too easily, distaste for this blank-eyed creature in the armchair or the - as he told himself later - the unwillingness to come back to see the child off on the Hogwarts Express? He had met the woman four minutes ago, but he was already sure Mrs. Millikan would regard bringing her daughter to King Cross as too great a bother.

"May I see your daughter?"

She waved her hand towards one of the doors.

The room was as characterless as the main one. There were some books on a shelf: mainly schoolbooks and a few novels by authors Snape has never heard about. At the desk a girl was sitting, an unremarkable girl of eleven, writing in a notebook. She lifted her head and stared at her visitor, astonished. Snape closed the door behind him.

"Ann Millikan? My name's Snape. I'm from Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" Her eyes opened even wider.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"From the letters?"

It was his turn to stare. "You read them?"

She pulled open the drawer and took out a bundle of parchment. "Yes."

He collected himself. "Then let me inform you that your mother has agreed to let you attend the school, Miss Millikan. I'll see you in..."

"They are real?"

"What? Ah, the letters. Yes, they are, as you can see."

She was stroking the parchment, spreading it flat. She didn't look doubtful, surprised, amazed or flabbergasted. She was almost... indifferent, but there was something under this indifference. Snape, whose life often depended on his empathy, fine-tuned to his Dark Master's weird emotions, felt something he couldn't quite place.

He opened the door again.

"Mrs. Millikan? Would you mind if I took your daughter for a walk in the park?" Seeing her nod, he motioned to the girl. She put on her shoes in silence and looked at him. "Go ahead, girl. Go, wait for me at the entrance." He waited, listening to her steps going downstairs. Mrs. Millikan was watching the advertisements. He took out a small wad of notes.

"Fifty pounds would be the usual...?" he wouldn't bet she heard him, but seeing her nod again, he placed the money on the top of the side shelf and followed the girl outside.

They walked to the park in silence, Snape marching a bit too fast and girl trotting in his wake. He found a bench at a safe distance from other people, and indicated to the girl that she should sit down. He sat on the very other end of the bench.

"Did you come especially for me?"

She surprised him. He hadn't expected her to speak first. She was looking at him with great intensity, bent forward, almost reaching out to him. He crossed his arms.

"It is customary for a professor to come and inquire, if a child's parents do not answer the letters."

His cold voice did not deter her.

"You will be teaching me, Professor?

Almost every year there was a student or two who took his Potion Room tirades and lashings as a sign of special affection. He was always quick to dissuade such students and always wondered what could make them believe he might care especially for them.

He scowled at the small face and realised that it would not work. He could beat her or worse and she'd still take it with gratitude. He didn't like it. In fact it disgusted him.

She saw this disgust and the light in her eyes died. She withdrew, slouching and hanging her head. He could see her disappointment and anger that once more she had let herself be fooled into believing that somebody cared about her. But the disappointment was slight and the anger fleeting. She had obviously been through it many times.

"Look at me, girl."

She did, reluctantly.

"Legillimens."

If Snape had ever seen such bleak pictures, he didn't remember it. The child sitting in the room, her mother sitting in front of the TV set, the child doing homework, her mother sitting in front the TV set, the child sitting in her room, her mother... How came this child not to be retarded? He broke the contact and shook his head. He expected her to explode, to start screaming at him for violating the privacy of her thoughts, but nothing happened. She just sat there, her head hung down again.

He forced himself to think. If he took her hand and told her to come, most likely she would go with him. He was tempted to do so, but then he sobered up. He was not a bloody foster parent to neglected Muggle girls. But she was not a Muggle anymore; Muggleborn yes, but one of us now, said the same voice, which earlier had wanted to pick a fight with Mrs. Millikan. Wizards are not supposed to solve Muggles' problems, but they should solve their own.

"Miss Millikan? Would you please tell me about your schooling up to date?"

Once he got her attention it was easy to steer the talk. As long as he showed interest, she seemed to be willing to forget the Legilimency and tell him what he wanted to know. She answered haltingly, checking every few seconds to see if he was pleased with what he heard. He was sure that if he touched upon personal matters, she would probably shut up like a clam, but those he had probed already. Now he needed the rest of the information and got it in a quarter of an hour.

"Thank you, Miss Millikan; that was exactly what I needed." He got up and stretched his hand out to her. Again she seemed to be grateful, but she took the hand carefully, as if afraid it was not quite real. "I'll have to go now, but I'll stay in touch. I promise," he added, because she clearly expected it.

"Will you write me a letter?"

"You will get a letter, Miss Millikan. And now, will you return home? I need to go, and we don't want to worry your mother."

"She won't worry," said the girl. "She never does."

Snape already knew it was the truth.

"She doesn't like to be bothered, you see, mister."

With the information from the girl, finding the woman's flat took Snape twenty five minutes. Fortunately she was at home, as he did not fancy to waste any more of his time. Now he was sitting at her kitchen table and she was standing opposite, arms folded. She did not have much sympathy for her employer and twenty pounds came in handy, but she was still suspicious of his questions.

"Stupid story, you see, mister, like the ones on telly. Girl's mother was quite pretty in her day and he had no experience with girls like her." She paused, waiting for a question, but none came, so she continued. "His mother, you see, that the girl's grandma, I knew her well. She was a good woman, but she doted too much on her son. She just had him; her husband died early, weak heart, you know. Runs in the family, or so I'm told, and she was afraid the boy'd got it too. He played no sports, knew hardly any kids... He finished university, got the job at the bank and met this girl." She shrugged. "'I'm not saying she was a bad girl, she wasn't a tart, nay... Maybe if he'd lived... But he did have a weak heart. They found him at his desk. In the bank. Ann was six months old then. And you know what a bother kids are, so her mother sent her to her mother-in-law. The girl stayed there till she was five."

"Why not her own mother? Why the husband's?"

"Who knew where her mother was? She didn't care much about her daughter, too. Runs in the family, I say." She snorted. "I've been cleaning Ann's mother's flat for last six years and all she gets is a postcard a year, India or somewhere."

"So why isn't the girl still with her grandmother?"

"Old Mrs. Millikan died six years ago. She brought up the kid as good as she could, but outliving her boy broke her. She left everything she had to the girl. They're quite well off, they are. Millikan left his wife a pretty penny, and what with his mother's cash, she doesn't have to work anymore."

"So what does she do?"

"Some shopping and cooking. Keeps herself and the kid clean, but not much besides. Watches telly a lot. I come twice a week, like I did for old Mrs. Millikan, to clean and cook. She's not like old Mrs. Millikan."

"That's all? A... telly?"

"Happy enough with it."

"And the girl?"

"Calm kid. Goes to school, does her homework. Plays with other kids, but not too much. No, she's not working too much. Does some chores, that's all. She was happier at her grandma's. She cared more."

"And Mrs. Millikan?"

"She doesn't bother. All she says is that she had enough trouble in her own home, now she just wants her rest."

"At what? Thirty?"

Another shrug.

"You say she hardly leaves the flat? And what about the bills?" After twelve years of dealing with Muggleborn students, Snape had necessarily absorbed some knowledge about their way of life. He was also very observant. "I see," he said when the woman's eyes flickered towards the stack of papers, "you pay them. Isn't it a nuisance for you? Or do they always grow a pound or two?"

"I told you what you wanted to know, mister, and..."

"Easy, no need to get defensive." He smiled reassuringly and she cowered. "Just tell me where the girl's school is. At Hampton street? Thank you, I'll find my way."

He was already on the stairs, when she ran after him and caught his sleeve.

"Tell me... Are you from her father?"

"From her father?"

"The child... She's strange sometimes. She told me she talked to her father. When she felt bad. He helped. She said so."

Impossible, thought Snape. The father was not a Wizard, so he couldn't become a ghost... But the child was.

"She told me her father promised to send somebody for her. She believed it."

There are more things in heaven and earth...

"Are you from her father?"

Snape looked straight into her eyes. "Yes, ma'am, indeed I am."

The teacher he found repeated the story. The girl learnt well... generally speaking. She was calm... generally speaking. Generally speaking she was clean, although her clothes could have been better washed. Did Dr. Sebastian suppose she was...? No, did you? Well, no, no reason to call upon the authorities, just that Mrs. Millikan seemed not to bother too much. Never came to parent's evenings. She signed all the notes Ann brought home, but did she read them? What were these notes about? A few times strange things happened around Ann, usually when other children tormented her; you know, she is a bit different. Yes, twice the boys were hurt, but it couldn't have been her, she was too far away when they fell so badly. She didn't push them, for sure. No, she doesn't have friends. Yes, she was very attached to her first form teacher, but the woman left - moved to Lancaster. Then the girl became more withdrawn. Boarding school, you say? Well, she didn't appear particularly gifted to me... But she could develop... possibly. Boarding school might be good for her. Why? I don't want to sound as if I'm accusing her mother, but... Did she beat her? No... probably not. But she could care more. Maybe the change of environment will suit the girl. Maybe she'll open up, make friends. No, his visit was not a problem in the least. It's rather heartening that somebody cares.

Somebody cares... Severus Snape, Hogwarts' Potion Master, was not, in fact, thinking about these words as he walked across London to Charing Cross. He could have Apparated and then Flooed directly to Hogwarts, but he did his best thinking while walking.

What he was supposed to do? His job was done, and the legal formalities surrounding the mother's consent were all finished with. For the first time he had to cope with the child, not with the parents. He wondered why it had to be him. Child-rearing was not his area of expertise. He discarded the idea that Dumbledore could have arranged it on purpose. The man was a scheming old curmudgeon, but he wouldn't try to get to Snape using a child. No, probably he was again dreadfully ill-informed. Albus was a great Wizard, but his trust of people made him blind in a way Snape found frightful. Which of course wouldn't stop him from shaking his head disappointedly over Snape's "unwillingness to see the brighter side of life" and praising whatever inane steps McGonagall or somebody else would take should he hand over the problem.

Severus Snape walked and thought. By the time he reached the Leaky Cauldron he had his plan.

He spent the evening drinking good, strong Assam and reading. This black brew was nothing like the vile swill at the Aronsons'. Bergamot oil was fine in a Soothing Draught, but in tea... The very idea! And with sugar too! Oh, by the way, he'd forgotten. He took out the sachet and emptied the other half of the white powder back into the sugar-bowl. Then he took another volume and went on reading

The rest of the information he acquired next morning during three hours in Flourish and Blotts. The first time the attendant tried to ask him if he meant to purchase the book, he sent the man scurrying away with just one look. The second time it was the owner himself, who took care this customer should not be troubled. And damned right, thought Snape, I spend so much here on Potions books myself, not to mention the ones I've bought on behalf of Hogwarts library that they should give me a blasted bunk, if I fancy it.

He closed the musty codex of Wizarding laws with a snap which sent shudders down the attendant's spine. He stood there for a good two more minutes, staring at the clerk, but not seeing the man writhing under his gaze.

Then he went into the Muggle London.

It was a very irritated Severus Snape who four hours later left the offices of Carton and Jaggers with a folder full of documents under his arm. The fact that he had been responsible for the delay of two important meetings with clients was only a small consolation. Of all people, the most annoying were self-righteous bores like the man Snape called "Dumbledore's lawyer". Mr. Arbuthnot was full of ideas about protecting the rights of Muggleborn children and if it were not for the fact that Snape had brought the relevant volumes of Wizarding law, he probably wouldn't have prepared the documents Snape needed. It didn't matter to him that they were invalid as long as they were unsigned (lawyers' logic was always flawed). He obviously believed Snape was going to use some nefarious method to get the necessary signatures, even though the books Snape had brought shrieked at him that anything signed under duress was invalid and he as a lawyer should really be aware of such basic facts and of course even simplest warrant was checked for such hexes before it was turned into binding magical contract, it's really obvious, what a moron, my goodness. Arbuthnot did not take insults from a codex well and became even more self-righteous. In the end, Snape managed to make him prepare the papers, but the strain on his nerves had been great. The lawyer said he would be informing Dumbledore immediately. Snape shrugged. Let him.

And here he was again, standing in the same room with the same shabby furniture and a large TV set. There was a faint, sweetish smell in the air, instantly recognisable to the Potionist's seasoned nose. It helped to explain some things.

"Mrs. Millikan? Sorry to bother you again, but there are a few more documents to sign."

She grunted.

"Why?"

"Hogwarts is a boarding school, ma'am. The fees are rather high... but we have an excellent scholarship system, thanks to our generous Governors and the cooperation of the Ministry. Your daughter has been enrolled on such a scholarship. There's a covering letter for the Board and an application confirmation. Please sign here... Thank you. Now, you would you mind coming to the Sanctuary Buildings tomorrow to countersign the rest of the papers?"

She looked at him, almost hostile. He rolled his eyes.

"It's a formality. You may empower somebody else to do it. Do you have anybody in mind? Even I could do it for you, although it's not fully by the book. But I don't feel like coming here again."

She looked at him with even more distaste. Those who gave you anything always treated you with such condescension. She snatched the papers out of his hand and signed all of them without reading. "Here," she said shoving them back at him.

"Thank you." He took them as if they were dirty. "Good day to you, ma'am."

Only two more weeks of relative peace, thought Severus Snape, Hogwarts' Potion Master, sipping strong, bitter tea from delicate china. Then the brats arrive and the hell starts anew. Many Muggleborns this year and there had been many calls to make. But it was over and now he could enjoy the evening, despite the buzz of the meeting.

"There is only one more child to discuss. Severus? Mr. Arbuthnot sent me a very strange note today."

Snape reluctantly straightened in his chair.

"Yes, Headmaster?"

"He says you demanded a warrant for transferring the guardianship of a child."

"Warrant of guardianship? What for?"

This was McGonagall, another of the self-righteous bunch. He respected the woman, but sometimes she was just a pain.

"For transferring the legal rights of guardianship, of course." He slid a codex across the table.

"Why did you do such thing, Severus?" Dumbledore was definitely less cheerful now.

"The girl has been neglected. If not for her natural abilities, she'd probably be an imbecile by now. Since she's a witch, she'd be better off with witches than with her Muggle mother."

"What are you talking about, Severus? You want to take the girl from the woman, whom you saw for how long? Half an hour?"

"Less then twenty minutes in fact."

"Severus, this is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. I don't..."

He pushed the folder of papers towards her.

"Too late. She signed the papers giving up her guardianship. To a man she had known for twenty minutes, no more."

McGonagall, completely aback, started to look through the papers.

"Did this woman read these documents?"

"I doubt it."

"So they're illegal."

"No. The laws say there must be no duress, but it says nothing about documents being invalid because somebody didn't care enough to read what he was signing."

McGonagall reached for the book, which snarled at her.

"Severus, I am shocked. There's no precedent for such a thing..."

"On the contrary, Headmaster. There is an old law saying that Wizarding communities are empowered to adopt children abandoned by their parents because of their magical ability. The professors here form a close community, as much as I regret it. The child was given up. Therefore we are fully empowered to become her Wardens. What we need is the decision."

"Severus, I did not send you to take away the child from her mother!"

"Headmaster, every year you send me to cow, cheat or bully parents into giving up their children for ten months per year and then, after Hogwarts, for the rest of their lives."

"You do not present us in the best light, Severus."

"Like you, Headmaster, and unlike many others," he looked pointedly at the rest of the teachers, "I read Muggle newspapers. Were their world any better than ours, I would possibly have qualms. As it is, I have none. I do the job you want me to do."

"But I...."

"Of course." Snape poured himself tea, precisely to the line of the thin golden band inside his cup, "This child is but an unremarkable girl of too timid a disposition to end up in Gryffindor-"

"Severus..."

"-to become a Quidditch star-"

"Severus, I don't like..."

"-or another celebrity-"

"Severus!"

"-and since I haven't knocked flat any doors during proceedings, my drunken stories will certainly be less amusing, isn't that so?"

He pushed another perfectly filled cup towards Hagrid, who mumbled something and hid the cup in his huge hands.

"However, since my accomplishments are obviously under-appreciated, let me point out that it's quite within your rights to undo what I have done."

"Severus, I understand your indignation, but what do you plan to do with this girl?"

"Me? Nothing. It's you, Headmaster, who is in loco parentis."

"Severus's right." McGonagall had managed to subdue the slim volume and was reading it. "If the community agrees to take care of the child, it is the five members of the council of Elders who decides its fate. You did make it easy on yourself, didn't you, Severus?"

He shrugged. "It's not my fault I'm the youngest teacher here."

"No, excuse me, Snape, you haven't asked me if I want to adopt anybody. If you want to play daddy, do it on your own."

"Individuals cannot adopt such children. Only communities can."

"No, no, no," Vector was not going to give up easily. "The child is not an orphan. She has mother. She might be a Muggle, but she will take better care of her than..."

"She would have let me screw her daughter for 50 pounds."

"You-"

Snape looked at McGonagall just once. She blushed and returned to the papers.

"If you want to know, Professor, if I paid the 50 pounds, actually I did not." He dropped a small roll of notes on the table. "On my return I removed them from the shelf on which I had left them on the previous day."

There was a long silence. Finally Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"It seems that you did a noble thing, Severus. I confess the circumstances are unusual, but possibly you are the only person here, who can truly..."

"Headmaster, please spare us your hunting for the shadows of my past. I did nothing of the sort. If we are accepting Muggleborns - and we have to - we need them healthy and stable. I am not a knight in shining armour; I'm merely doing my job." Again he looked at the rest of the teachers. "I checked the sources. To be fit for school the brat needs attention and attachment. Enough attention to forget her cow of a mother. Send her to Vector's sister."

Vector gaped. Her sister, a former dragon-tamer, lived on the Isle of Pabbay, the bleakest of the Outer Hebrides. She loved children, and after her own three left home she always offered to arrange a summer camp for Hogwarts students. Despite her warm-hearted invitations, however, she rarely had guests in her wind-swept, barren wasteland.

McGonagall collected the papers. She looked older and more tired.

"Albus? What do we do with this...?"

"Severus's cuckoo's egg? We do not have much choice, I am afraid, Minerva. I shall write to Mr. Arbuthnot and ask his opinion. But apart from the legal proceedings... Seems that we're a collective mother now."