St. Magdalene's Hospice House
Guildford, Surrey
9:55 AM, Monday, 30 July, 2018

There were few things left for certain in Sylvester Snape's life, except that at age fifty-three he was dying of cancer. The rare sarcoma enmeshed in his lower spine had been caught too late for surgical removal. A lesser surgery to relieve pressure on his spine bought him two more years on his feet, but touching the cancer meant the risk that it may spread. Indeed, that spring the tumor had begun its final advance, aggressively coiling like a serpent through his body, cutting short his twenty-ninth year of teaching chemistry, and sending him to hospice care.

But his constant pain and impending death meant nothing to him compared with the future of his granddaughter Rosemary, or Rosie as he often called her, who now stayed with him in his hospice family suite, because neither had any other home to which to return.

Sylvester lay in his recliner, pondering Rosemary's future, reading and rereading a printout of the odd, unexpected email he had gotten earlier that month. A Professor Neville Longbottom was asking if he and his associate Harry Potter could come speak with him about a school especially for children like Rosemary, who had "certain special gifts and abilities." The thirtieth of July would work especially well, the email suggested, at the time of Mr. Snape’s best convenience. As Sylvester read and pondered the message, he occasionally gazed at Rosie’s drawings, which almost completely covered the wall which he faced.

Gifted she was indeed! Her charcoal drawings of fanciful scenes were astonishingly detailed, with a shimmering, lifelike quality that seemed on the edge of animation. A many-turreted castle dominated the wall; Rosemary had taped together several pieces of large posterboard to complete the scene. Various creatures from myth and legend surrounded the castle, and one of the clouds in the dusky sky above the castle looked like a luminous white doe in mid-leap. When people asked how she chose what to draw and how to draw it, Rosemary Snape simply said "I just see cool things in my mind all the time, and I draw them just as I see them."

Along the wall to Sylvester’s left sat Rosie’s futon, heaped high with assorted toy stuffed snakes. At the near end of her futon a real snake in a glass tank chose that moment to slither purposefully toward a newly thawed rat carcass; atop a dresser at the far end sat a bird cage with her well-behaved canary perched just outside the open door, chirping enthusiastically. Rosie’s cello lay on its side on the floor, with the case propped up in the corner. Above her futon were taped several magazine pages with photos of the current Dr. Who, as well as Benedict Cumberbatch, Richard Armitage, and some other much more boyish face whose name Sylvester could not recall, apparently the pre-teen heartthrob of the hour.

On Sylvester’s own side of the room he had a table to his right with a few odd pieces of old lab equipment, as well a small telescope aimed toward the door of the room’s small balcony. The ceiling was low on Sylvester’s side of the room, but it sloped steeply up towards Rosemary’s side. Sunlight streamed through a skylight window above the balcony door. St. Magdalene’s Hospice House occupied a spacious old manor on a country lane on the outskirts of Guildford, and Sylvester’s suite was on the top floor, comprising the south half of the building’s uppermost peak. A medium-sized bookshelf sat left of his recliner, mostly filled with old science books and journals, but atop the bookshelf, at Sylvester’s eye level, stood a row of family photographs, centered around a hinged photo frame with two panels. The left panel held an invitation to the wedding of Rosemary Jane Rickles and Sylvester Michael Snape, dated Sunday, the third of May, 1987. In the right panel a much younger Sylvester with jet black hair was dancing and laughing with Rosie Jane amongst blossoming crabapple trees. Rosie Jane’s flowing blonde hair was as pure white as her bridal gown. People had called them “the chess set couple� because they did, in fact, play chess rather often, but also because Sylvester’s hair was as black as Rosie Jane’s was white. In front of the double photo frame stood two chess pieces; the white queen and the black king.

Young Rosemary Snape was named for her grandmother, but the two had never met, as Rosemary Jane Rickles-Snape had met a shocking and unexplained death in early 1998, nine years before young Rosie was born. Rosie Jane’s death was neither the first nor the last of Sylvester’s griefs, but twenty years later it still cut the deepest.

Young Rosie and her drawings were now the brightest spot in Sylvester Snape's darkening world. In the midst of his long series of misfortunes, it hadn't escaped his notice that oddly helpful people had appeared before, rendering assistance at just the right time, but then disappearing. In a way Sylvester was not surprised to see this pattern repeat itself with Professor Longbottom’s email, but it was the first time ever that any of these strange benefactors had announced themselves ahead of time and planned to maintain contact, and this pleased Sylvester Snape very much. He hoped beyond hope that Professor Longbottom and Mr. Potter might not only present a suitable plan for Rosie’s education, but help him find some real answers to certain questions and mysteries that had plagued him his whole life. This is why he had asked that they come well before eleven, as that was when Rosie was expected back from a weekend celebrating her eleventh birthday with friends.

As the clock neared the stroke of ten, Sylvester Snape, who valued punctuality, was pleased to hear footsteps beginning to tramp up the stairs, and the familiar friendly chatter of volunteer Lakshmi Dasari, whom he had known for years. Sylvester was impressed with their timing, which was neither early nor late. They were arriving at his door at precisely ten o'clock, and having even one small thing in his life go so closely according to plan seemed a rare pleasure and a promising beginning. But he would take care not to seem too overly impressed, at least not right away.

Sylvester chuckled as he heard Lakshmi’s familiar blue streak growing ever clearer as she led the two men up the stairs. She was never at a loss for words when introducing visitors to patients, and as the trio neared the door to his suite, Sylvester wondered how Professor Longbottom and Mr. Potter were holding up. He had been smiling, even grinning at the thought, but he abruptly put on a politely grave expression as soon as Lakshmi knocked on the door.

Sylvester need not have worried about his guests. The more Lakshmi told them about Mr. Snape, the more fascinated they grew. Furthermore, they had anticipated this moment for years, and they felt such suspense that it was a relief to let someone else do the talking. Harry and Neville had met the parents and guardians of many Muggle-born witches and wizards since Neville had joined the Hogwarts faculty, but this visit was different; none had ever had such a close connection to such a renowned and powerful wizard. According to the information they had, Rosemary Snape’s grandfather was the half-brother of none other than Professor Severus Snape, the Potions Master whom they had once feared in their own days at Hogwarts; but they had since come to know that he had in fact been their bravest protector during the Second Wizarding War.

It naturally caused quite a stir when Minerva McGonagall first notified the rest of the faculty that the Quill of Acceptance had written this eye-opening, enigmatic announcement in the Book of Admittance:

Born the First of August, Two Thousand and Seven, in Guildford, Surrey
Orphaned at birth, yet loved and cared for
Miss Rosemary L. Snape
Great Niece of Severus

Investigation quickly revealed that Rosemary was in the care of her grandfather Sylvester, who resembled Severus Snape very closely indeed, and the faculty even discussed briefly the idea of contacting Sylvester Snape early, while Rosemary was yet an infant. But they finally concluded that it was best to leave the Snapes undisturbed until the time came that she was old enough to enter Hogwarts, and so began the eleven-year wait. This policy of secrecy didn’t prevent several interested witches and wizards from rendering covert assistance to Sylvester and Rosemary, who lived a difficult life filled with struggles and setbacks. Finally the years of waiting were shrinking to minutes and seconds, and as Harry and Neville climbed with anticipation up the stairs, they proved to be the most eager audience Lakshmi had had for quite a while.

“It’s always a joy when someone comes to see Mr. Snape,� Lakshmi spoke as she led Harry and Neville energetically up the stairs. Her thick, lush silvery hair framed her smiling dark face, and she climbed the stairs rather energetically for a lady in her sixties. “He can be a bit gruff, but he’s all heart. He’d do anything for you if he’s on your side, but everything he does is for that girl Rosie. She dresses a bit oddly, and I can’t stand that snake of hers! But she’s truly sweet, and smart as a whip, and the way she can draw! Mr. Snape taught my children chemistry, you know. He’s my daughter Sapoora’s favourite, but it wasn’t that way at first. Sometimes she would come home crying because he was so demanding, but Mr. Snape saw something in her, and challenged her to her limit and beyond. Now she’s a doctor, and …�

“Excuse me, Mrs. Dasari, but is Dr. Sapoora Dasari your daughter? � Harry broke in, not letting on that he already knew she was.

“Oh, yes, Mr. Potter, my daughter, the surgeon! I’m so proud, and so is Mr. Snape! Seems she’s become his most famous former student!�

“And well you should be proud, Mrs. Dasari,� Neville spoke up. “Her restorative surgery for victims of the Scar-Maker attacks is truly amazing.�

“Oh, thank you, Professor Longbottom. I do hope that the Scar-Maker is caught soon, before anyone else is hurt or killed.�

“We couldn’t agree with you more, Mrs. Dasari,� Harry replied. What Harry couldn’t tell her was that the Scar-Maker was currently the wizarding world’s Most Wanted. The attacks clearly bore the signs of the Dark Arts, with each victim suffering strange internal burns and being marked by the same serpentine scar on the neck. The Auror Office sadly knew no more than Muggle police about the Scar-Maker’s identity, but they were investigating the attacks, and also covertly protecting Dr. Sapoora Dasari, as they feared that her medical knowledge of the Scar-Maker’s scars and burns would put her at risk of becoming the Scar-Maker’s target herself.

But this wasn’t the time to discuss it. Lakshmi, Harry, and Neville had arrived at Sylvester’s door. Lakshmi knocked and said “Good morning, Mr. Snape,� and a startlingly familiar, dignified voice resonated from behind the door.

“Good morning, Mrs. Dasari. If you would, please show my guests in.�

She opened the door and said with a chuckle, “Hello, Mr. Snape, how did you ever guess it was me?�

Sylvester simply rolled his eyes, flashed Lakshmi a slightly pained look, then smiled at her. “Would you please thank Sapoora for me. It appears that she stopped in while I was yet asleep this morning and fed Mr. Snakey-Poo. I’m glad someone around here doesn’t mind handling a dead rat,� he said, nodding with a pointed glance to Lakshmi, as if he were lecturing a misbehaving student.

Lakshmi simply burst out laughing. “You’re too much, Mr. Snape! Well, here are your guests. May I introduce to you Professor Longbottom and Mr. Potter. Good morning!�

As Lakshmi stepped out, Sylvester turned an unflinching gaze towards Harry and Neville, and said, rather emphatically, “Be it known, gentlemen, that I had nothing to do with the naming of the snake ... nor of the bird.� The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly, and his body quaked subtly. Then he coughed deeply and abruptly stopped quaking. Harry and Neville realized that he had been stifling a laugh, and that it hurt him to laugh.

Sylvester Snape was nearly a twin to Severus in his face, and had the same piercing black eyes, but had slightly wild silvery-grey hair that came just over his ears. Sylvester’s posture conveyed the impression of calm serenity, nothing at all like Severus Snape’s buttoned-up severity. Sylvester had a nonchalant poise and a relaxed dignity. He wore grey sweatpants and an unbuttoned red-gold plaid flannel shirt, worn over a black t-shirt which featured a design that intrigued and puzzled Neville. It looked scientific enough, as Sylvester’s t-shirt bore an illustration of a prism refracting a beam of white light into the colours of the rainbow. But Neville had no idea who Pink Floyd was, nor what any of it had to do with the Dark Side of the Moon. Harry smiled, realizing that Neville was having yet another Muggle Cultural Moment, and made a mental note to explain the shirt to Neville later on. Ever since Neville had joined the Hogwarts faculty, Harry had often accompanied him on visits like this to the homes of Muggle-born students, partly to help Neville navigate through the Muggle world, but mostly because it was such an enjoyable way to catch up as friends. They often made such a visit on one of their nearly-shared birthdays, as they were doing today on Neville’s thirty-eighth birthday.

Neville suddenly realized that they had let a few too many awkward seconds go by without saying anything to Mr. Snape, so he spoke up. “We’re honoured to meet you, Mr. Snape. I’m Professor Longbottom, and this is Mr. Potter. We, uh, we have taken notice of your granddaughter’s gifts and talents, and we’d like to tell you a bit about a special opportunity to which she’s entitled …�

Sylvester broke in. “Thank you, gentlemen. I’m a man without much time, so I thank you for honouring me with your punctual arrival, and when Rosie arrives shortly we shall have plenty of time to hear about your school. By the way, pardon me if this sounds daft, but I have a theory that you either are representing a school for the artistically gifted, or …� Sylvester paused, “or else you represent a school called Hogwarts.�

Harry and Neville stood speechless for a moment, and then Sylvester continued. “I can tell from the way you’re looking at me that I’m on to something. I’m a man of science, not easily swayed by tall tales. But I’ve seen many strange things in my life, both good and ill, and some time ago I realized that these strange phenomena made the most sense if certain things my estranged father told me years ago were, in fact, the truth. So if you would please indulge me for a moment, I would like to test my theory. I have a simple question for you to start with. Could you please tell me if Rosie’s castle looks familiar to you?� Sylvester gestured for Harry and Neville to turn about and look at the wall with Rosie’s drawings. What they saw transfixed them.

After a few moments, Harry spoke up. “Mr. Snape, this isn’t just any castle. This is an utterly perfect drawing of Hogwarts Castle! Every turret, every tower is in place, just as if she has seen it with her own eyes.� Harry and Neville saw that the creatures Rosemary had drawn, including centaurs, unicorns, a giant squid, and even a couple of giant spiders, were all creatures present at or near Hogwarts, though Rosemary had not drawn the creatures to scale with the castle. “Mr. Snape, have you watched Rosemary doing her drawings? Does she say where she gets her ideas?�

Sylvester smiled and replied “Rosie is very private about her art, and she simply says that she draws things that she sees clearly in her mind’s eye. I rarely can catch her in the act, and in our old flat she would close her bedroom door if she caught me spying on her while she drew. Lately since we’ve been here, I pretend to be asleep and crack my eye open. Most fascinating ... she works very quickly, and it is almost as if details splash and spill out of her charcoal stick beyond what she’s actually drawing. So, gentlemen,� he said, sitting himself up straight, “Here is my wild theory, briefly stated. My granddaughter Rosemary has magical powers, you have come to admit her to a school of magic, named Hogwarts, and when my father was ranting about wizards and witches, it was really the only time he was telling the truth. So, gentlemen, is my theory true, or have I gone completely off my crumpet? Whatever be the case, I ask you to tell the complete truth.�

“The complete truth is that your theory is absolutely true, Mr. Snape,� Neville replied. “I represent the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and we’re here for exactly the reason you have guessed.�

“I see,� Sylvester added, with a quizzical smile on his face. “If you would please indulge me further, I beg you to listen to my story, and I shall have a few more questions.�

“Of course, Mr. Snape. To tell you the truth, we’ve been waiting for a long time to learn your story.�

“Very well then, sirs. Please take a seat; as you see there are chairs at my table. To be quite honest I’m very pleased to be able to tell my thoughts to someone. This isn’t the type of thing one tells just anyone, especially in my scientific circles. I’m about to tell you things that I’ve never told anyone.�

Mr. Snape cleared his throat, then began to tell his story. “I was born in Leeds, West Yorkshire, on March the 28th, 1965. My mother was a fetching young bank teller named Emily Shotwell, who attracted the fond gaze of many bank patrons, particularly a certain Tobias Snape, my father, whose name I think you know. Mostly it was just Mum and I, but every month or two, Tobias would be in town, claiming to be on business, though I never knew what he actually did. He would stay with us and speak sweetly to Mum, stringing her along with promises that he would someday leave his wife and marry her. He would bring me sweets and take me to cricket and rugby league matches. But at night my father would get into drunken fits, and wake me up, berating me, telling me that my science and my chess were turning me into a freak, like his other son Severus … or like the girl down the lane whom Severus adored, whose name, he said, was Lily …�

Sylvester paused, deep in thought, then continued. “He would continue ranting about witches and wizards, and his wife Eileen and the Princes, and the Blacks and Malfoys and Gaunts, and a school called Hogwarts, and a Professor Dumbledore, whom my father despised. Half the time he pronounced the name Dingledorf, and I would feel guilty for laughing, because even when I was a small boy I knew in my heart that a professor should be respected. Then in the morning, when my father was sober, he would deny that he had ever said any of it. Such was life with Tobias, that is, with Father. I’ve been working on forgiving him, though I haven’t gotten used to naming him Father instead of Tobias. But I’ve learned the hard way in life that harbouring a grudge is futile, like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.�

Harry spoke up: “I regret to point out that in the Dark Arts there are several dreaded potions that work essentially in that fashion. But I understand what you mean, and agree completely.�

“I see,� Sylvester answered, looking quite disturbed at Harry’s information. “I see … anyway, when I was seven my mother had finally had enough of his lies, not to mention the gossiping neighbours. She planned our escape quite cleverly. When Father made his first visit after I’d finished school that spring, Mummy told me, ‘Your father and I are going somewhere today. While we’re gone, why don’t you play a little game? I have our suitcases and trunk sitting in your bedroom. Pick out all your favourite things and mine, and pack them up, as if we’re going on a long trip.’ It sounded like an intriguing game, and I’d always wanted to go on a long trip. I did the best job I could, and when Mum got back, it wasn’t a half-hour after Father had left that Mum said, ‘Good work, Sly, it’s time for us to go on our trip.’ Stunned but excited, I went with Mum to the station, and we caught the train heading south. I’d never been farther south than Sheffield, but we kept on going for hours and hours, finally reaching London. It was more amazing than I’d imagined. We traveled the Underground and caught another train going yet further south. I wondered if we were going to the Channel, or even to France,� Sylvester chuckled, then coughed, “but when the train was coming to a stop at Guildford, Mum suddenly said ‘Get ready, son, here’s where we get off the train.’

“And that was my first sight of Guildford, where I’ve spent most of my life since then. Mum got a new banking job, and I made more real friends here than I ever had in Leeds. Amongst the neighbourhood children was a lovely girl named Rosemary Jane Rickles, and along with Rosie Jane came her great-grandfather. His name was Nick Rickles, but every boy and girl in the neighbourhood called him Grampy Nick. Grampy Nick was a jolly old chap, and very eccentric. He was incredibly old, one hundred and two when I first met him. If you can imagine a century-old long-haired hippie wannabe, bouncing a little blonde girl on his knees, singing ‘Puff, the Magic Dragon,’ that was Rosie Jane’s Grampy Nick.� Sylvester Snape was smiling broadly as he paused for a moment, enjoying the memory.

“Grampy Nick died in 1978, at age one hundred and eight, and his funeral was the first I ever attended. All the neighbourhood children came. We all loved him. But his funeral was my first clue that Father’s rantings had an element of truth in them, first of all, because I learned that Grampy Nick’s full name was Nicodemus Malfoy Rickles, and that he had been an abandoned child taken in by a blacksmith named Isaiah Rickles, to whom he was apprenticed. Furthermore, a number of rather unusual people attended Grampy Nick’s funeral. It appeared to me that Grampy Nick had known all the oldest hippies in Britain. I was thirteen, and a certain old fellow with a very long beard kept eyeing me, and afterwards engaged me in conversation. He was very pleasant. He asked about me and my interests, and even told me his name.� Sylvester paused, making eye contact with Neville and Harry in turn. “He told me his name was Albus Dumbledore.� Harry and Neville’s jaws dropped open, and Sylvester continued. “Mr. Dumbledore nodded in the direction of Rosie Jane, and said with a wink, ‘She’s quite pretty, isn’t she?’ I was tongue-tied. Of course I adored her. She was so terrifyingly beautiful, and I felt terribly awkward and nerdy. But Mr. Dumbledore said, ‘I think she would enjoy it if you taught her how to play chess. I think if you do so, something truly magical will come of it.’ Then he smiled at me and walked away. I looked down for a moment, blushing, thinking about what he’d said, and when I looked up, he was nowhere to be seen. I never saw Mr. Dumbledore again."

“Mr. Snape, can you tell me what Grampy Nick looked like?� Harry asked.

“I can do you better than that. If you’ll please find the file box underneath my bed and bring it to me, I can show you a splendid photo.� Harry did so, and rummaging through the box, Sylvester quickly found a whimsical photo frame adorned with zoo animals. “Here they are, on Rosie Jane’s birthday.�

The photo decisively answered the question on Harry and Neville’s minds, and told much more besides. Though much older, Grampy Nick appeared a near-twin to Lucius Malfoy, only with a goofy grin on his face unlike any expression either Harry or Neville had seen on Lucius’ face. One hundred and six-year-old Grampy Nick wore dungarees over a tie-died shirt and was seated in a wheelchair. A young girl with long blonde hair sat on his lap, hugging a stuffed toy snake, her face beaming with joy. They were at the zoo, posing in front of the very same Reptile House where young Harry had once talked to a Boa Constrictor. Someone had written on the photo, Grampy Nick with Rosemary Jane on her 11th birthday, 3rd Sep. 1976. Harry’s eyes turned to young Rosemary’s futon, and he recognized the same stuffed snake, now threadbare, in the pile with her other stuffed snakes.

Sylvester continued his narration. “I’m happy to say that Mr. Dumbledore’s matchmaking worked perfectly. Not many days later I gathered all my courage and asked Rosie Jane if she had ever wanted to learn chess. She flashed me a shy smile that made me blush, and said that would be delightful. I let her win on purpose the first time around, but after that it was tooth and nail, because she learned rather quickly and became a most formidable opponent. And the rest is history. We fell in love, dated, and married as we were finishing college. She became a Music Therapist. Rosie Lily’s cello once belonged to Rosie Jane.� Harry’s eyes widened at the mention of the name Lily.

Sylvester continued: “Rosie Lily plays very well, but her greatest gift is her artwork. With Rosie Jane it was her music. The fast passages she played with a cold fire that was truly riveting, and when she played slow, calm passages, her tone was exquisitely rich and soothing. Rosie Jane played her gentle, healing music at the bedsides of ill and dying patients, at hospitals and hospices throughout Surrey and East Hampshire - including the very room we’re in now.

“As for me, I became a chemistry teacher, begrudgingly at first, because I had dreamt of being a research scientist of great renown, but I realized one day, mid-career, that I no longer wished to do anything but to teach. I can tell you exactly what day that was. It was the day that I received the most heartfelt letter of thanks from a once-timid student named Sapoora Dasari, telling me that she had received a full scholarship to Oxford, and thanking me for challenging her to dare to reach for her dream.�

“That’s wonderful, Mr. Snape,� Neville replied.

“Thank you very much. It was very generous of Sapoora to think of it that way, because to tell you the truth, I think I was overly harsh during the earlier years of my career, but after that I softened my rhetoric and my style - but not my expectations.� Sylvester smiled. “Anyway, during the first decade of my career we resided in Little Whinging, and I taught chemistry at Stonewall High. I …� “Stonewall High!� Harry interrupted. “Before I was admitted to Hogwarts, I thought I was going to be a student there. But instead I went to Hogwarts, where your brother was Potions Master.�

“Potions Master, indeed. Splendid! I’ve been called Potions Master once or twice myself. So, Mr. Potter, what you’re saying is that, if you had not studied Potions with Severus, you might have studied chemistry with Sylvester. Either way, you were doomed!� Sylvester said, looking very pleased with the thought in a devilish way. Harry and Neville both grinned.

“Anyway, in our early days of marriage it seemed that we had achieved that happiness of which most only dream. Our son Sam came along in 1990. He inherited his mother’s blond hair and musical talent, but with him it was all Rock and Roll. By rights it should have been Sam’s old Dad who introduced him to Pink Floyd, but to be honest it was the other way around.� Sylvester grinned, then his expression changed to one of deep seriousness. “All was well, until the terrible day that I ... that we all lost Rosie Jane.� He paused. “It was on St. Valentine’s Day, of all days, in 1998. I came home from work with a bouquet of roses. We had arranged for Sam to have an outing with his friends, and we had a splendid evening planned. Rosie Jane made her music studio next to the foot of the stairs, and I expected to hear the sweet tones of her cello when I stepped in the door, but instead there was a disturbing silence. I turned the corner into the front room, and … “ Sylvester’s voice broke, and he closed his eyes and paused a long while.

Neville spoke up, “We understand, Mr. Snape. Feel free to take your time.�

“Thank you, Professor. First I saw her cello toppled face-down on the floor. Then I saw her lying there, eyes still open, a look of terror frozen on her face. The only sign of any injury was the mark …" “Sylvester paused again. “She had a horrible mark burnt into her neck, as if seared by a cattle brand. It was a serpentine S, the same mark as with the victims of the Scar-Maker.�

Sunday, 1 March 1998

The afternoon was unseasonably warm and pleasant, and Sylvester Snape sat alone on a bench near the centre of the cemetery, conveniently close to Rosemary Jane’s fresh grave, where she had been laid to rest barely over a week previously. She was buried only one space away from Grampy Nick. Sylvester found himself focusing on the empty grave lot in-between, which he expected to occupy himself sometime. He felt ready to occupy it now; his grief and weariness of spirit were hitting home.

Rosie Jane’s funeral had been well-attended, and the outpouring of love from family and friends had buoyed him up for a time. Life was now starting to return to some new surreal version of normal, and it felt good to be no longer busy with funeral activities. But he was becoming painfully in touch with his loss, and though the quietness of the pleasant day gave his soul some relief, he felt all alone. He found himself thinking about his conversation with Albus Dumbledore, twenty years previously, the mysterious long-bearded man whose matchmaking had changed his and Rosie Jane’s life. Sylvester had almost half-expected, and even hoped, that Mr. Dumbledore would reappear at Rosie Jane’s funeral, but he had been nowhere to be seen.

A large solitary bird appeared in the clear blue sky, flying swiftly from the north. As it came close Sylvester could see that it was a magnificent Long-Eared Owl, carrying an envelope in its beak. The owl landed and perched right on top of Grampy Nick’s gravestone and dropped the envelope, looking straight at Sylvester and uttering a single hoot, as if to greet him. Then it took flight once again and disappeared into the northern sky.

Sylvester walked to Grampy Nick’s grave and picked up the envelope. He was astonished to find his name on the envelope, addressed as follows:

Mr. Sylvester Snape
The bench near Nicodemus Malfoy’s grave
St. Magdalene’s Parish Cemetery, Guildford, Surrey

He opened the envelope and found two sheets of antique-looking parchment. The first was a letter, which read:

28th February, 1998

Dear Brother Sylvester,

I wish to convey my deepest sympathies at the tragic loss of your beloved wife Rosemary Jane. I have only recently learned of your existence, and would have wished to bring you my condolences in person and make your acquaintance, but present difficult circumstances prevent me from doing so. I also pass along to you deepest condolences from my friend and associate, Professor Albus Dumbledore, who made your acquaintance some twenty years ago at the funeral of Mr. Nicodemus Malfoy Rickles. Professor Dumbledore sends his sincerest regrets, as his present condition prevented him also from attending. I only hope in this sad hour to express that you are not alone in your grief. In time the enclosed document shall prove most useful to someone in your family not yet born; the meaning of that which I say will become clear when the proper time has come. In hopes that your sadness shall one day give way to hope of a most magical quality, I am sincerely yours,

With brotherly affection,
Severus Snape

Sylvester had no words for what he felt after reading this letter, except that he no longer felt all alone. He turned to the second enclosed parchment sheet, which, oddly, was mostly blank, except that across the top were the words

Ask, and ye shall receive

At the bottom of the page, below the large blank space, was a horizontal line, and below the line were these letters:
MBA MDCCCL

Mystified, Sylvester reread the letter from his brother Severus, then carefully folded the two sheets, put them back in the envelope, and hugged the envelope to his chest. Gazing at Rosie Jane’s yet-unmarked grave, then at Grampy Nick’s gravestone, Sylvester returned to the bench and put the envelope in the inside breast pocket of his coat. He buried his face in his hands, and for the first time since Rosie Jane’s death the solid knot of grief in his heart melted into a flood of tears.
------
For twenty years Sylvester told no one about the owl or the letter, until the day that Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom came to pay him a visit, and as Sylvester narrated his life story, he decided that the time had come to reveal his secret, and he showed them the letter, which they found highly fascinating. Harry smiled as he looked at the second sheet and said “This is good, very good. Rosemary will need to sign this, on the line, and when she does so, you’ll see it’s something very useful indeed.�

“I see,� said Sylvester. “What of Severus? What can you tell me in a nutshell about my brother the Potions Master?�

Harry sighed. “It’s hard to know where to begin. Your brother was a great and powerful wizard, Mr. Snape, and the bravest man I’ve ever known. He was Potions Master for many years, but when he wrote that letter he was Headmaster. There was a terrible wizarding war raging that year, and it had been brewing all during our time at Hogwarts. To be honest, for most of the time we were there we feared Professor Snape, and I'm sorry to say we even thought we hated him. He could be very harsh, and we often thought he was against us, until the very end when we learned that he been our bravest guardian, as he had been posing as the enemy’s ally while undermining the enemy’s efforts at the deepest level, from right within his closest inner circle.�

“Brave indeed,� Sylvester said, and paused. “It moves me to hear how you hold my brother in such esteem. I can imagine how he might have been a bit harsh, especially as I’m cut from the same bit of cloth.� Sylvester smiled. “Your report of his heroism stirs my heart as well, but I must admit I had been hoping that his life had been happier than that. During the course of my misfortunes, I had come to hope that Severus and his beautiful friend Lily had been living a happier life than I, off in their world of wizards and witches. Let me ask … did Severus and Lily end up together?�

Harry swallowed. “No, they didn’t. So much could be said … suffice it to say for now that Professor Snape had an undying devotion to Lily which motivated his heroism. But she married a different man, whom she met at Hogwarts. His name was James Potter. Mr. Snape, Lily Evans Potter was my mother.�

Sylvester’s eyes grew wide as Harry held his gaze. After a pause Sylvester raised his hand and spoke up. “Mr. Potter, let me say this right away, that I sincerely hope and trust that your mother and father enjoyed a love as rich as I did with my Rosemary Jane. So please don’t misunderstand me when I tell you that this news is a bit of an adjustment of perspective for me. You must realize, Mr. Potter, that deep inside my heart, the hard-nosed scientist you see before you is a hopeless romantic,� Sylvester said, smiling sheepishly. “As a child I had loathed the sound of my brother’s name when my father taunted me with it, but I grew to love my mysterious brother Severus, my fellow freak, each of us a disappointment to Father in his own way. I would have enjoyed having a brother to talk with, and it was all the worse knowing that I really did have a brother, but I had been robbed of the chance to know him. I had fancied, even hoped, that he and his Lily were living a happier life that I … together. I imagined that when I named my granddaughter Rosemary Lily Snape, that I was naming her after her grandmother and her great auntie. I hope you don’t mind me saying all this, Mr. Potter.�

“Not at all,� Harry replied, placing his hand on Sylvester’s shoulder. “My mother was an aunt, but she never had a real chance to enjoy it. I think she would be most honoured to be called Auntie to your Rosemary Lily, and I consider it an honour as well. Consider it done.�

“Thank you for that, from the bottom of my heart, Mr. Potter. I’ve noticed, of course, that you speak of both Severus and Lily in the past tense, and in time I will ask you to tell me how they died. But Rosie will be arriving shortly, and I need to finish my own tale.

"Needless to say, Rosie Jane’s death was a dreadful blow to all of us. She was Stewart and Miriam’s only child. As the years went by following her death, I watched that lovely, vibrant couple die slowly of heartbreak. Neither lived long enough to see Rosie’s birth. My Mum lived until Rosie was two. Sam and I moved in with her in her flat, since we couldn’t bear to live in our beautiful home anymore after what happened. The house wouldn’t sell, and I finally settled at a tremendous financial loss with the realtors, who to this day are still trying in vain to sell that empty, apparently cursed house. Meanwhile, Sam, bless his heart, tried his best to make a go of life, but life is never the same when an eight-year-old boy loses his mother to murder. He and his mates had a band. He was an excellent lead singer. ‘Sam and the Samurai,’ they were called. He claimed they were searching for a better name, but they never came up with one,� Sylvester smiled. “But Sam was very troubled. He made himself a few of the wrong friends, and a few more of the wrong enemies. In 2007, on the night before my birthday, Sam was knifed to death in a street fight in the East End. He was only seventeen.�

“We’re so sorry, Mr. Snape. You have our deepest sympathies,� Neville replied. Neville and Harry leaned closer to Sylvester, resting their hands on his shoulders as he continued to speak.

“Thank you very much. Sam’s girlfriend was pregnant. Her name was Ashley McKinley. She was only sixteen, and very smart. Excellent young scientist. I had hoped she would be another Sapoora. But Ashley’s path in life had been rough from the beginning, and she had five addictions. She was in no shape to bear a child, but she wanted to see her baby more than anything. She distanced herself as she could from her own sordid family, and we arranged for me to be the child’s guardian. As Ashley went into labour, and I brought her to the hospital, I feared that the baby would be born ill and addicted. But instead … pure magic.�

A transcendent expression came upon Sylvester’s face as he continued the tale. “Ashley got her wish. She saw her baby girl. The baby had plenty of hair, mostly white, like a true Rickles, but with a lock of wavy red hair, like her mother’s. Ashley held the baby in her weak arms. Then she beckoned me to take the baby’s tiny hand in mine, and Ashley rested her hand over ours, and as she did so, the baby opened her eyes, which were most striking in appearance, one blue and one green. Most newborn infants lack focus, but this child had a steady gaze, and as she held eye contact with me, she winked her right eye, the blue one, and smiled at me, continuing to hold my gaze … even as her mother took her last breath. The baby’s wink brought me back to the moment when Professor Dumbledore, that master matchmaker, winked at me, and I knew at once that this is what he was talking about, when he said that if I taught Rosie Jane chess, that something truly magical would come of it. Because at that moment I knew that I believed in the magic, and that Ashley and Sam’s beautiful, miraculous child belonged to the same world from whence I knew Grampy Nick had come … the mysterious, magical world of Mr. Dumbledore, and Severus, and Lily. And that, my friends, is why her name is Rosemary Lily Snape.�

Sylvester paused again, and he shared a long moment of reflective silence with Harry and Neville. Sylvester suddenly had a coughing fit which sounded very painful. Recovering from the fit, he turned to Neville and asked, “What, by the way, is your specialty, Professor Longbottom?�

“I’m Professor of Herbology, Mr. Snape. Thank you for asking.�

“Ah, that has a good scientific ring to it, Professor. Let me forewarn you that you and your colleagues are about to experience a five-foot-tall whirlwind of torrential energy, the likes of which you may not yet have faced. It’s been my task these eleven years to look after her. I’m exhausted, and not just because I’m dying.� He smiled, and continued. “But given the chance, I would do it again, and again, until the very end of time … “

Sylvester was overcome by another brief coughing fit, and Neville began to say “Sir, I have something that may help you … “ but he was interrupted by a sudden outburst from Rosemary’s pet canary, which had been mostly quiet during the whole hour, except for the occasional chirp and twitter. But now the bright yellow bird began chattering excitedly and flying in loops and circles around the room.

Harry was the first to notice the cause of the canary’s excitement. In the doorway stood a beautiful young girl with straight blonde hair, except for a lock of naturally wavy red hair in front of her left temple. She wore a lace-fringed black knee-length skirt over black leggings, with stylish ankle-high black boots on her feet, and an unbuttoned matching black vest over her only piece of non-black clothing, which was a white t-shirt with a design that added to Neville’s confusion over Sylvester's shirt. Her t-shirt simply said Pink, with no mention of Floyd, and featured a portrait of an assertive-looking woman with spiked blonde hair. Earrings in the shape of black kittens completed her outfit, and the predominance of black and white accentuated her bright eyes, one green and one blue. Harry and Neville saw immediately that she already looked very much like a witch, and also that she looked very much like a Malfoy. She was holding a large sketching pad in one hand and her travel bag in the other, and she had a look of wide-eyed astonishment as she saw Harry and Neville.

“I’ve seen you. And I’ve seen you, too, sir. I don’t mean in person. I saw you in my mind’s eye, and I was going to draw pictures. But here you are! Yes, hello to you too, Grampy, and hello to you, Mrs. Chirpsworth and Mr. Snakey-Poo.� The canary was flying circles around Rosie, before landing on her shoulder and continuing to chirp noisily. The snake, on the other hand, showed no sign of caring about anything other than the rat-sized bulge travelling down its throat.

“Don’t you think our guests are entitled to a proper greeting, Miss Snape?� Sylvester asked in a stern tone.

Oh, yes, Grampy, I’m very sorry, sirs, I was just so surprised.� She walked over to her grandfather’s wide-open arms and gave him a long hug, with Mrs. Chirpsworth still riding on her shoulder. Then she turned to Harry and Neville and said “Good morning, gentlemen! My name is Rosemary Snape, but you may call me Rosie.�

“It’s our pleasure to meet you, Rosie. My name is Professor Neville Longbottom, and this is my friend and associate, Mr. Harry Potter.�

Harry spoke up. “Rosie, would you please tell us more about what you saw, when you saw us in your mind’s eye.�

“I can do that. I hope you don’t mind that it’s rather strange and frightening.�

“That’s perfectly fine with us, Rosie. Won’t you please tell us?�

“Okay, Mr. Potter. Just last night I was seeing things, as I always do, and I saw a battle between two wizards using their magic wands. One of them was a terrible, evil wizard who looked like a monster with a face like a snake, but he was defeated by a good wizard, and the good wizard looked like you. He was even wearing glasses like yours. I know that sounds strange, but that’s what I saw. And I saw you , too, Professor Longbottom. I saw a terrible snake, ready to attack, but a wizard who looked like you pulled a sword out of a magician’s hat and killed the snake.�

Neville waited a few moments for Harry to respond, then spoke up himself. “Rosie, that doesn’t sound strange at all, because it really happened. Mr. Potter is being modest, but years ago there was a real, evil wizard just as you saw, and Mr. Potter defeated him in battle.�

Harry said, "And Professor Longbottom is also being modest, because he really did kill that snake just as you saw, and if he had not done so, I would have never been able to kill the evil wizard."

Everyone was silent for a few moments as both Rosie and Sylvester took in what Neville and Harry had said. Rosie spoke up, wide-eyed. “Mr. Potter, Professor Longbottom, are you real wizards?�

Harry knelt down in front of Rosie to meet her at eye level, and put his hand on her shoulder. “Yes, I am a real wizard, and Professor Longbottom is a real wizard too. And there’s something more we’ve come to tell you today. There’s a reason why you have the power to see the things you see and do the things you do. You, Rosemary Lily Snape, are a real witch.�

“Oh my,� Rosie replied, and stood silent for a long moment, meeting the gaze of Harry, then of Neville, half-expecting to hear in a moment that it was all a joke, but when she met her grandfather’s gaze she knew at once that Mr. Potter was completely serious. Her grandfather was looking back at her with an expression quite unlike any she had seen on his face before. His face expressed a sort of wonder, admiration, bittersweet joy, and deep affection, all at once, along with several other very deep things that she couldn’t name. It gave her a new and very grown-up feeling, as if she had just been crowned as queen and her Grampy was now a type of brother to her instead. She smiled at her grandfather and said, “Well then, I do hope that I’m a good witch, and not a bad witch.�

Everyone laughed, and Harry spoke up once again. “The fact that you care about being a good witch is the best sign of all that a good witch is what you are. And not only are you a real witch, but the castle which you have drawn so beautifully is a real place. It’s called Hogwarts Castle, and it’s the home of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We’re here to welcome you as a new student. Professor Longbottom will be one of your teachers there, and years ago your grandfather’s brother was our teacher there. His name was Professor Severus Snape, and he was one of the greatest wizards in the history of Hogwarts.�

“Oh, really?� Rosie asked quizzically. “Did I catch it from him, then?�

“No,� Neville laughed. "We think you inherited your magical abilities from your great-great-great-grandfather Grampy Nick. Judging from what your grandfather has told us, we think he was a Squib. That’s someone from a magical family born without magical powers. Sometimes, many generations later, the power to do magic reappears in a descendant of Squibs, and you, Rosie, are the one.�

“Ah, that makes perfect sense,� Sylvester said with a chuckle. “Grampy Nick used to do little magic shows for the neighbourhood children. Not real magic, mind you, just sleight of hand and parlour tricks. But he was very entertaining, and he would end each show by saying, ‘well, that’s all you’ll get from this old Squib, but I’m glad you liked it, ladies and gents.’ We always thought it was his own word he made up for fun.�

Neville laughed, and continued. “Indeed! Rosie, your Grampy Nick was born to a family of witches and wizards by the name of Malfoy, but was sent out into the Muggle world because he had no magical powers. Muggle is our word for a person without magical powers. We’re sorry if it doesn’t sound very nice.�

“Believe me, I’ve been called far worse,� laughed Sylvester. “And I do believe I recall Father mentioning the word Muggle more than twice. He complained that he had expected me to be less of a freak since I was Muggle-born and a Muggle myself, and I had no idea what he was talking about.�

“So then, how did Uncle Severus become a wizard, and not Grampy?� asked Rosie thoughtfully.

“It’s because they had different mothers,� Harry answered. “Severus Snape’s mother was a witch named Eileen Prince. That’s why he once gave himself a secret nick-name as the Half-Blood Prince.�

“Oh,� said Rosie, “that’s very interesting. So since I’m a girl, I could be called The Muggle-born Princess, in honour of Uncle Severus and his Mum!�

“Muggle-born Drama Queen would be more like it,� quipped Sylvester, who then said “Ouch!� in mock pain as Rosie pummeled his arm with her fists.

“Oh, Grampy, what am I ever going to do with you?� Rosie said, deftly avoiding Sylvester’s hand as he tried to grab her arms. “Oh, this is so exciting! Mr. Wizard, I mean, Mr. Potter, I’m sorry … and Professor Longbottom, I would so love to see you do something with your magic. Oh, would you please? Pretty please?�

“We have something even better in mind, Miss Snape,� Harry replied, looking at Neville. “We’re going to help you do something with your own magic. It sounds like you have the power to see things in your mind’s eye that you haven’t seen in person. Let me ask you, have you ever thought of something that turned out to be a prediction of something that came about later?"

“Well, sir,� Rosie replied, “one day I was walking by the river, looking for snakes and insects and other creatures, and suddenly without thinking about it, I spoke a little rhyme out loud, that went like this: ‘By the splitting of a log, I think I shall catch a frog.’ I reached out my hand, and out of the grass a big bullfrog jumped and landed right in my hand! It wasn’t afraid of me at all. It looked at me and said ‘ribbit,’ and jumped out of my hand back into the grass.�

“Miss Snape," said Harry, "not only are you a witch, but I think you may be in possession of a certain special gift. I think you may be a Seer, and I’d like to perform a little test. I’m thinking of something, and I’m not going to tell you what it is. When you know what it is, I would like you to draw it on a page of your sketch pad.�

Rosie looked at Harry for a moment, dumbfounded, but soon a look of recognition came upon her face. “I can see it, Mr. Potter. Your mind looks to me like a house with the windows and doors closed, but you’re opening a window, and I can see something through the window …� Rosie smiled broadly, reached for her sketching pad and charcoal, and began drawing energetically.

“I knew you would be able to see it,� replied Harry. “Professor Longbottom, while Rosie is drawing, I think we’re ready for you to get started with your part.�

Neville nodded back at Harry, and as Rosie continued to draw, he reached into an inside pocket of his long coat, extracting a clear vial which was mostly filled with colourful flakes which looked like tiny autumn leaves.

"If I'm not mistaken, this is the first time in about five years that you have
consented to draw before a live audience, Miss Snape." Sylvester held a piercing
glance towards his granddaughter Rosie as she drew whatever she had seen in Harry's
thoughts.

"Well, obviously today is a special day, Grampy!" Rosie replied pointedly as she
continued to draw. As Sylvester, Harry, and Neville looked on, the dynamic swirls
of her chalk strokes appeared to billow out, like the unfurling petals of a flower
in the process of blooming. Soon it became clear that Rosie was drawing a
beautiful fish with long, flowing fins, so realistic it seemed ready to swim. "Did
I guess it right, Mr. Potter?" Rosie asked as she finished the drawing.

"You didn't guess it, you saw it, very accurately, Rosie" replied Harry as Rosie
proudly showed off her drawing to everyone. "Mr. Snape, I see you have a large
laboratory flask on your table. I've no doubt it's quite clean."

"But of course, Mr. Potter, spotless as always," Sylvester replied with a mildly
indignant tone, but with a gleam in his eye. "What do you have in mind?"

"If I may, I'll replace your water," Harry replied as he took Sylvester's water
pitcher and filled the flask mostly full. "Now, Professor Longbottom, you may do
the honours."

Neville took his vial of colourful leaflike flakes and tapped two dashes into the
flask of water. Like tiny autumn leaves, the flakes floated and twirled as they
gently drifted down to the water's surface, then sank slowly into the water.
Neville turned to Rosie and said, "If I may have your drawing, I'm going to do
something which you may find alarming at first, but I think you'll like the end
result."

Rosie did so, and was at first shocked when Neville took her drawing, crumpled it
up, then dropped it into the flask of water. But as soon as the crumpled page sank
into the water, it began to twist back and forth ever more vigourously. Suddenly
there was a great splash, and in the water swam a beautiful live fish with flowing
fins, just as Rosie had drawn it.

Speechless at first, Rosie finally said, "That's wicked! Professor, How did you
make it come alive?"

Neville replied, "It was mostly you who did it. The life and the magic were
already in your drawing of the fish. All I did was to set it free." Neville turned
to Harry and said, "I believe we've found a shoo-in for the Slug Club, wouldn't you
say?"

Sylvester had a broad smile on his face as his eyes followed the fish, which was
now swimming playfully in the flask. Sylvester was about to ask what the Slug Club
was, when Rosie broke in with a suddenly serious, longing tone.

"Professor Longbottom, can you make Grampy's cancer go away? Can you save him from
dying? Oh, could you, would you, please?"

Neville sighed as he knelt down and put his hand on Rosie's shoulder. "No, I'm
afraid not. I'm very sorry, but there are some things that even wizards and
witches cannot do."

"But ... that's what I thought it meant when I saw ... " Rosie's voice faltered as
she thought something carefully through with an intense look on her face. "Oh, no,
it wasn't Grampy, it was Uncle Severus, wasn't it?" Rosie began turning pages in
her sketch pad until she reached one page and stopped. "The same snake which you
killed, Professor Longbottom ... I thought I saw it attacking Grampy, only he was
dressed up like a wizard, so that means it was really Uncle Severus, wasn't it ...
The cancer Grampy has, it's like a snake inside him, so that's why I thought if you
killed the cancer snake, it wouldn't kill Grampy ... " Rosie stopped speaking, and
opened her sketch pad to a drawing which affected everyone in the room deeply. For
Rosie had drawn the scene of Severus Snape's death very realistically, with Severus
recoiling as the snake Nagini prepared to strike.

There was a long silence, until Neville spoke up once again. "I'm sorry to say that
the snake had already killed Professor Snape before I in turn killed the snake.
And I'm sorry to tell you now ... in regards to Mr. Snape's cancer, that this time
I can't kill the snake. I'm very sorry, Rosie. I'm very sorry, Mr. Snape."

"Don't be sorry, Professor Longbottom," Sylvester replied without hesitation. "We
all have limits to our powers and abilities. You both have done something for me
today which is far greater. You've given me answers to my questions and hope for
the best for my Rosie Lily's future. I can ask nothing more of you."

"Thank you, Mr. Snape," Neville replied. As Rosie gave her grandfather a long hug,
Neville said, "There is something else I can help you with. I wanted to tell you of
it before. I cannot kill the snake, but I can loosen its grip for a time, and take
away the sting of its bite." He held up his vial of colourful flakes once again.
"It involves taking a draught of water with this mixture in it. I've been working
on the blend for some time now. I would understand perfectly if you declined the
offer, but … "

"Ah, yes, Professor Longbottom's Secret All-Purpose Blend. I might have known,"
Sylvester replied with a broad grin. "Shall I mix some into my water glass?"

"You may if you wish, but to be honest, if it doesn't bother you, it would be even
more potent if you drew it directly from the flask with the fish in it."

That detail didn't seem to bother Sylvester in the slightest. He took his nearly
empty water glass from the table and drank the last few drops. He then nodded to
Harry, who was sitting next to the flask with the fish. Harry understood the cue
and moved the flask within Sylvester's reach. Sylvester dipped his water glass in
the flask, and as the water rushed in, most of the coloured flakes floated in with
it. Sylvester raised his glass and spoke with gusto, "To Rosie's future!" and
drank the glassful in two big swallows.

At first Sylvester didn't notice much besides an odd but pleasant nutty sweet taste
in the water. Then came a wave of vertigo and borderline nausea, which quickly
passed. Just as Neville had promised, he felt as if the serpent inside was
loosening its coils, and even better, the pain which had never completely left him
for over two years was subsiding and was soon gone. The relief was visible on his
face. He beamed at Neville with wordless thanks, then had a startling thought. "I
really should have asked beforehand if it would interact with any medications.
I've been most pleasantly addicted to Vicodin as of late."

Neville said, "Not to worry, Mr. Snape. the mixture has the effect of pushing the
medication out of your system with no interaction whatsoever. I do not believe
you'll be needing the Vicodin any more."

Sylvester continued basking in his feeling of immense relief, which also had the
pleasant effect of making his keen mind even more alert. He turned toward Harry
and said, "Mr. Potter, you're some sort of police officer, aren't you?"

Harry was startled, though he was beginning not to be surprised at Sylvester's keen
powers of deduction. He was much like his brother Severus in that respect. "Yes,
sir, I work with the Auror Office of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. We
specialise in the apprehension of dark wizards and witches. How could you tell?"

Sylvester laughed. "I saw it in your controlled reactions to every word I spoke,
and in particular when I mentioned that my poor Rosie Jane bore the mark of the
Scar-Maker on her neck. I watched your eyes systematically taking in your
surroundings here in this room. I noticed many things about what you have taken
note of, but not spoken about, just like the officers who called upon me far too
frequently, during my Sam's troubled youth. But the important thing is, you're
going after the Scar-Maker, aren't you? Something beyond the normal laws of nature
is clearly going on. Sapoora has seen it in her surgeries, the unnatural way the
Scar-Maker's victims' internal tissues are not only burnt, but twisted. She
suspects something."

Harry was starting to doubt that Sylvester ever missed a single detail. "Yes, sir,
The Scar-Maker is clearly a dark wizard or witch, and every victim has been somehow
connected to the magical world. Oddly, every survivor has been a Muggle with
knowledge of wizards and witches, but every dead victim has been either a wizard or
witch, or else someone with known wizarding ancestry. Unfortunately that includes
your Rosemary Jane."

Even as Harry spoke, his eyes turned to Rosie, who had been listening in rapt
attention to everything. Harry suddenly felt a strange, indescribable wave of
awareness that reminded him of his Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape. He had
the distinct impression that an unseen, powerful Legilimens was trying to read, not
his own thoughts, but Rosie's. Not only that, someone else unseen had blocked the
attack.

For a moment an image flashed in Harry's mind of a life-sized chess piece, a
statuesque, menacing white queen, much like the one in a life-sized chess set that
he and his friends Ron and Hermione had encountered during their first year at
Hogwarts. At the same moment he saw a brief grimace on Rosie's face, and he
realized that Rosie had also seen the white queen. Could this white queen be the
Scar-Maker? Harry said nothing as he formed another picture in his mind for Rosie
to see. It was of a written note that said:

I saw the white queen as well. I think she may be the Scar-Maker, the one who
killed your grandmother and many others. Don't say anything about it out loud.
Someone is protecting your thoughts from her. If you understand this note, please
pick up the white queen chess piece to let me know.

Rosie looked surprised for a moment, then smiled at Harry, walked nonchalantly over
to her grandfather's bookshelf, and picked up the white queen. As she held the
chess piece, she opened her mouth, intending to ask Harry if wizards and witches
played chess, but instead, the words of a prophecy came forth:

As the Scar-Maker grows bolder, her heart grows colder, and her powers grow older;
But her hunger makes her younger, and sets the stage, for her fiery rage.

Rosie looked for a moment dizzy, then puzzled, then shook her head, smiled, and
said, "That's not what I intended to say at all. But it's rather important, isn't
it?"

"Indeed it is, Rosie," said Harry. "It looks to me like you have two special
gifts. One is that you're a Seer, and the words you just spoke are a prophecy.
It's your gift to see events, both in the future and the past. When, may I ask,
did you first see the castle in your Inner Eye, as well as seeing me, and Professor
Longbottom, and Professor Snape?"

"It was just this summer. I started thinking about my eleventh birthday, and
somehow I could tell it was a very important birthday, and it filled my thoughts
with amazing things that I just had to draw."

Neville spoke up. "The other gift we see in you is a natural gift of Legilimency. A Legilimens
can see into someone else's mind and understand what they see."

"You mean, like a mind-reader?" Rosie replied.

"It's not that simple at all," Harry responded. "I must admit I've never been a
talented Legilimens, nor much good at Occlumency, which is the art of hiding one's thoughts from a Legilimens. But I was briefly taught by ... a certain brilliant teacher,
who said, and I quote,

'The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are
not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a
complex and many-layered thing...'"

"It was Severus who said that, isn't it?" broke in Sylvester. "I know, because if
I had knowledge of such things - which I certainly do not - that's exactly how I
would put it."

A knock was heard on the door. Everyone realized at once that they had all lost
complete track of time in the day's excitement, and that it was well after the
stroke of noon. "I expect this is the nurse," Sylvester said, "and she will be
most surprised by my complete lack of pain." He raised his voice. "Good
afternoon, Sarah. Do come in!"

Sarah was a very young nurse with a bubbly personality. "Hello, Mr. Snape. Now I
see why you've been so quiet today. Glad to see you have so much company! Oh,
look at the lovely fish! If you'll excuse us, I need to do some cares for Mr.
Snape. I'll also be putting in a meal order. Would everyone like something to
eat?"

Sylvester replied, "Of course. Please put in an order for plenty for everyone."
Harry, Neville, and Rosie stepped out and stretched for awhile as Sylvester
received his cares. Mrs. Chirpsworth the canary had been twittering on her perch,
but hopped back on Rosie's shoulder as they stepped out of the suite. Later, as
they were returning, Lakshmi appeared carrying a tray filled with assorted cold
sandwiches and a pudding dessert for everyone. They all ate ravenously.

In the excitement Neville had forgotten to hand Rosie her Hogwarts acceptance
letter, so as the group reconvened, he produced the letter, which Sylvester
insisted on reading out loud himself. Rosie beamed, then a look of momentary
sadness came to her face. "I so look forward to being a student at Hogwarts, but
I'll miss my friends at my old school."

"We know," Neville said. "You may still see your friends during the summer when
you're away from Hogwarts. And perhaps this is a good time to mention that we've
recently had the opportunity to meet two of your friends who will also be new
students. You know them not from school, but from Music Camp. I'm speaking of
Gina Paulucci and DaNessa Diggory ..."

The two names drew vigourous reactions from both Rosie and Sylvester. Rosie
clapped her hands to her cheeks with a look of rapturous surprise on her face, but
Sylvester took on an expression of mock dread. "Diggory, Paulucci, and Snape," he
spoke with an ominous tone. "The Tympanic Trio ... The Menace of Music Camp ...
united at Hogwarts ... being taught to perform ... Magic ..."

Rosie resumed pummeling her grandfather's left arm. "Oh, stop, Grampy! You make
it sound so dreadful."

"You have more on your hands than I imagined," Sylvester continued, undaunted.

Rosie asked question after question about Hogwarts, until she suddenly yawned and
said "Oh, all this excitement is wearing me out! If you don't mind, I think I'm
going to relax for a bit." As she let herself fall backwards onto her futon, the
impact made all her stuffed snakes bounce. In less than a minute she was fast
asleep.

Harry turned to Sylvester. "Concerning the case of the Scar-Maker, how often does
someone enter the house where Rosemary Jane died?"

"Very seldom," said Sylvester. "Occasionally the hapless realtors try to show it,
but always with the same result. It received minor repairs shortly after we moved
out, but it remains largely undisturbed, much the same as when we vacated the
premises twenty years ago."

"I would like to investigate the scene of the crime, with the assistance of an
associate of mine who is the chief investigator for the Scar-Maker case. Magical
acts, including magical crimes, leave distinct marks and evidences which are, in
some cases, indelible. My associate's name is Sparkles, and she's an expert
Magical Crime Scene Investigator with the Auror Office. Sparkles and I will visit
the scene of your wife's death, and I will assist her in walking the grid."

"Better you than I," said Sylvester. "Sparkles, eh? I shouldn't be too surprised
at such a name for a witch."

"Well, she's not exactly a witch," Harry replied, looking at Neville, who was
looking back at Harry with a knowing smile. "But she is highly skilled in her own
people's brand of magic."

Neville came close to blurting out that Sparkles was an elf, but he could see that
Harry wanted to make it a surprise, so he waited silently as Harry pulled out what
looked to Sylvester like a simple, old-fashioned slate. Harry turned to Sylvester
and asked, "Is anyone from hospice staff expected to come to your room soon?
Sparkles would be ... a bit hard to explain."

"Not for a couple of hours, unless I call for someone," replied Sylvester.

Harry put the slate to his ear much as if it were a Muggle cell phone, and spoke, "Hello,
Sparkles ... yes, this would be a good time. We will await your arrival." Harry
looked at Sylvester, who had a dumbfounded look on his face. "Mr. Snape, she
literally will arrive in only a few seconds."

There was a pregnant pause. Even the canary was completely silent for a few
seconds, until there was a sensation of a sudden breeze and the impression of a
small whirlwind at the centre of the room. At once the whirlwind was replaced by a
three-foot tall, smartly dressed figure with huge eyes, long lashes, and pointed
ears. She appeared to be wearing a tea towel as a scarf, and over her skirt and blouse she wore a long brown
Auror's coat tailored to her size and proportions, with no sleeves, revealing her tattoos. Her
right shoulder bore a portrait of Hermione Granger as a teen girl, with the
initials S.P.E.W. underneath. Sparkles' left shoulder held a portrait of Dobby
with a determined expression, and up her left arm in two lines were the words:

Dobby has no master
Dobby is a free elf

The hint of a third tattoo peeked above the neckline of her blouse, a leafy design
which clearly had its centre somewhere further down. She turned to the speechless
Sylvester, and said with a radiant smile, "And you, Love, must be Mr. Sylvester
Snape. My name is Sparkles, and I've been wanting to meet you for a long time!"

Sylvester Snape's day kept on becoming more interesting by the minute. He had begun the day expecting that Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter might indeed prove to be real wizards. But the thought had never crossed his mind that he might meet a person of another species, especially someone like Sparkles, who immediately made him feel as if he were making an awkward beginning to a very intriguing blind date. I must make a good first impression, he said to himself.

Sylvester spoke up, studying her tattoos. Whoever Dobby was, Sparkles was clearly of the same species, only much better looking. "The pleasure is all mine, Sparkles, though I'm somewhat at a disadvantage. It would seem that my reputation precedes me. I see that, ahem, real elves are not much like the Middle-Earth variety."

"Of course not," said Sparkles, approaching Sylvester and touching her hand lightly to his forearm. "We're much more fascinating than that."

"Indeed ..." Sylvester replied with a steady gaze. "If you don't mind me saying so, you look more like Yoda with a skirt."

"Mind I do not, but much better than Yoda in a skirt, I look, don't I, hmmm!" Sparkles answered, not missing a beat. "One of my favourite Muggle movie characters he is. Very pleased I am!" she said in an artificially gravelly voice that still sounded flirtatious.

Everyone laughed, including Neville, who for once wasn't completely left out by a Muggle cultural reference. He felt quite confident that Yoda was a character from something called Star Wars. Or was it Star Trek?

Sylvester spoke. "Ah, how delightful. A lovely lady who likes the best movies. I would love to get better acquainted." Sylvester could hardly believe he had just said that, only moments after the initial shock of meeting a real live person who wasn't a human. But Sparkles was awakening feelings he hadn't felt in a long time. He continued, "I realize, though, that you've come to work on some important police matters with Mr. Potter, so please feel free to proceed. Let me know if I may be of help in any way."

"Why of course, Mr. Snape," Sparkles replied, touching Sylvester's arm again and allowing her hand to slide down to his fingers as she drew back.

Sylvester said, "Would you please call me Sylvester, or Sly."

"But of course! I think I like the sound of Sylvester, if that's okay with you."

"Most definitely, Sparkles." Sylvester turned with a nod to Harry, who had been grinning at the whole exchange. For all the juicy rumours that followed Sparkles around, Harry had never seen her actually flirt with anyone in all the nine years since she had become the first elf employed at the Auror Office. In the new era of fully dressed free elves, Sparkles was not only a pioneer but something of a fashion icon, with her stylish and occasionally provocative outfits, not to mention her confident and outgoing personality. Indeed, a number of human men had made advances, which she always ignored politely. But the instant connection between Sparkles and Sylvester was so palpable that Harry had wondered for a moment how soon the subject would return to the Scar-Maker investigation. Harry was grateful to Sylvester for taking the initiative in changing the subject back.

Harry spoke. "Mr. Snape has informed us of something highly significant: that his late wife, may she rest in peace, had the Scar-Maker's mark on her neck, indicating that her death was a precursor to the recent attacks." Harry paused for a moment in respect, then continued. "He also informs us that Rosemary Jane's great-grandfather was a Squib from the Malfoy family, known as Nick Rickles, but at birth named Nicodemus Malfoy."

Sparkles' large eyes widened in recognition of the name. "Oh, really? Nicodemus Malfoy ... That's very interesting. Most highly fascinating."

"Have you heard of him?" Harry said.

"Yes, I have." Sparkles paused. "To this day he is well-known amongst goblin metalsmiths, unusually well-regarded by them considering that he was a human."

Harry said, "That is very interesting indeed." Harry and Sparkles had an understanding that he would never ask about her mysterious connections within the goblin community. She was known to make prolonged visits to Gringotts, which was enough fodder for Rita Skeeter to insinuate, in Sparkles: Freedom Fighter Or Femme Fatale?, that Sparkles had engaged in amorous encounters with as many as half the goblins at Gringotts. Most people knew better than to take Rita's expose seriously, but it was enough to make the whole subject of goblins a sensitive one for Sparkles.

Sparkles spoke, "Well, then, let us get going with the investigation. Sylvester, I am so very sorry for the terrible loss of your wife. She was truly blessed to have you for her husband. All we can do is to to seek for answers, and for justice. All we need to get started is to know the correct address."

Sylvester paused, looked down for a moment with a look of wistful sadness, then said, "Our home, our last home all together as a family, was at number seventeen Magnolia Road, Little Whinging."

Harry replied in surprise, "Magnolia Road! We were practically neighbours! When not at Hogwarts I grew up with my aunt and uncle at number four Privet Drive, less than a mile away. Surrey is seeming like a smaller place all the time. Thank you, Mr. Snape. We will do our best to find answers."

As Sparkles and Harry prepared to Apparate to number seventeen Magnolia Road, they were interrupted by Rosie’s excited voice, as she was no longer sleeping soundly, but was sitting wide awake upon her futon, staring at Sparkles.

"Wow! You're real! That's amazing! I saw you too, in my mind's eye, but I thought you were imaginary! Oh, I'm so sorry, I'm Rosie, I mean, Rosemary Snape! And who are you? And what are you?"

Sylvester opened his mouth to reprimand Rosie for being so blunt, but Sparkles smiled at him, silenced him with her glance and a firm hand on his shoulder, then turned to Rosie and replied, "Hello, Rosemary! I'm Sparkles, and I'm an elf. I'm very much enjoying meeting you and your grandfather. In a moment Mr. Potter and I are going to do a police investigation of the site of your grandmother's death, but when we return, I would love to get to know you better. Does that sound suitable to you, Rosemary?"

"Why, of course it does, Miss Elf, I mean, Miss Sparkles! And you may call me Rosie!" Rosie could hardly say anything else. It was barely four hours since she had first arrived and met Mr. Potter and Professor Longbottom, and her day kept on getting more and more amazing.

"I should alert Teddy to our plan," said Harry, who turned to Sylvester and explained, "We've been concerned for the safety of your friend Dr. Sapoora Dasari, so a young member of our staff named Teddy Lupin has been assigned to provide her with covert security."

"Ah, don't tell me," Sylvester said, smiling, "Mr. Lupin must be the remarkably handsome young man whose hair is a different colour every day, and sometimes even later on the same day. Am I right?"

Harry nodded sheepishly, and Sylvester added, "If Mr. Lupin is trying not to be noticed, he should know that he needs to change his tactics."

"Indeed," Harry replied, then took out his slate once again, and put it to his ear. "Hello, Teddy ... Yes, we're at the home of the Snapes. Sparkles and I will shortly investigate a new site designated as Site Ninety-Eight Alpha, at number seventeen Magnolia Road, Little Whinging ... no need to change your position for now. Keep on watching over the Doctor, and until you hear from me, report any new developments to Neville, as he's here with the Snapes and I'm giving him Code Sirius clearance for Auror communication ..., yes, thank you Teddy." Harry put away his slate, shrugging at Neville, who was smiling broadly at their inside joke. Neville always had Code Sirius clearance anyway, but Harry enjoyed bringing it up anytime someone new might be impressed by the sound of it.

Neville walked over to Sylvester's side and beckoned for Rosie to do the same. The three watched as Sparkles and Harry moved to the centre of the room. Harry was quite good at Apparating, but it was always easier to catch a ride with Sparkles. Harry reached out and took hold of her arm, and Rosie gasped as Sparkles and Harry disappeared into the whirlwind that briefly surrounded them.

Harry and Sparkles found themselves in the large living room of the home where Sylvester and Rosemary Jane had once lived with their son Sam. Sunlight streamed through the large bay window before them. To their left a staircase rose up to the second storey, where the massive wooden handrail curved continuously into the railing in front of a mezzanine where the family bedrooms were located. To the right a door led to the dining room and kitchen. But their search started at the centre of the living room, as Rosemary Jane's music studio had been located near the bay window. But where? Harry and Sparkles nodded to each other, and Harry began systematically inspecting the doors, windows, and walls. Sparkles concentrated on the floor, and began by slipping off her shoes. After inspecting each section, she slid her bare feet in graceful circles and cross-motions through each section of floor she had just looked at. It looked much like a traditional dance, but it brought her feet systematically in contact with every spot on the floor. Suddenly she stopped and drew her foot back slightly, exploring a certain small area more slowly and deliberately.

"Did you find something, Boss?" Harry said.

"Yes, Handsome. Something a bit warmish, just like I felt at the other sites." Warmish was the closest English word to the sensation Sparkles felt, a type of latent energy detectible by elf-sense, and only fully describable in elf language. It was a sign that Fiendfyre had once been present near that spot. She rested her foot upon the spot she had found, and said, "Would you please tap this spot gently with your wand?"

Harry produced his wand, smiling at the recollection of the indignant look on his wife Ginny's face the first time she had heard Sparkles call Harry "Handsome." Ginny had soon realized that Sparkles meant nothing by it, but Harry enjoyed the memory of that particular look on Ginny's face. Harry found the spot on the hardwood floor, tapped it with his wand, and stepped back. From that spot arose something like winding ethereal tendrils, soon filling the room with smoke-like spirals which hung in mid-air. Close to the floor the spirals blended into a haze, but the haze could not penetrate a certain elongated space on the floor, instead drifting around the space like fog over water. Soon it was clear that the vacuous space that the haze could not enter had the shape of a human form, the form of a woman. It was the form of Sylvester’s wife Rosemary Jane Rickles-Snape, in the very place where she had died twenty years previously. The spot on the floor which Harry had tapped was just below Rosemary Jane's neck.

As Harry and Sparkles investigated the scene of the crime, the trio of Sylvester, Rosie, and Neville continued a lively conversation back at the hospice suite. Rosie was asking Neville many questions about elves. She was rather shocked to learn that there were still elves kept practically as slaves, though the practice was increasingly falling out of fashion. Sylvester leaned back and listened silently. As a teacher he was used to speaking for hours at a time, but as an introvert he enjoyed the chance to step back from the conversation and be quiet. Besides, his thoughts were on Sparkles. Though he knew she was an experienced and talented officer, he found himself worrying about her safety at the crime scene. Certainly after twenty years the perpetrator isn't around? He consoled himself with that thought.

Neville suddenly said, "Pardon me" and reached for his own slate. He listened to it and said, "Hello, Teddy ... oh, I see. Thanks for letting me know." He put it down and said, "It seems that Dr. Dasari has left the hospital earlier than usual and appears to be coming this way. He expects her to arrive here in minutes."

Sylvester smiled. "Splendid! I don't know about you, but I think that Sapoora should be let in on the secret."

Neville replied, "Yes, we actually had been planning on that after we made contact with you."

Sylvester grinned fiendishly. "You wouldn't suppose that Mr. Lupin could make the same type of dramatic appearance as Sparkles? If so, I think it would be splendid if he did so shortly after Sapoora arrives."

"Yes, he's actually one of the best at Apparating, after Sparkles herself." He put his slate back to his ear and said "Did you hear all that, Teddy? Jolly good! I'll tell you when to come."

It didn't take long before steps were heard ascending the stairs, then a knock on the door, and after a moment the door swung open and a voice said, "Good afternoon!"

"Do come in, Sapoora," said Sylvester. "You've been missing out on a splendid party, but it's not over." Sapoora walked in. She looked much like her mother Lakshmi, except with thick dark hair instead of grey, and she wore a physician's white smock.

"Well, hello, Rosie!" Sapoora said as Rosie came and hugged her. "Say, that fish is truly lovely! But why is it in a lab flask? Rosie, did you have a nice party?"

"Yes, Auntie Sapoora, but you're not going to believe this!" Rosie almost shouted, nodding towards Neville. "Meet Professor Longbottom! He's one of my new teachers at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

"Ah, that's very nice, Rosie dear!" Sapoora chuckled, looking very amused, then turned to Sylvester and was stopped short by his enigmatic smile.

Sylvester said, "You don't believe Rosie, do you, Sapoora?" Sapoora looked quizzically back at Sylvester, and said nothing. Sylvester replied, "I didn't think so. Professor, now would be a good time to welcome Mr. Lupin to our happy gathering."

Neville put his slate to his ear and said, "Teddy, you may come and join us any time."

Sapoora looked back at the door for a moment, then looked back and saw that everyone in the room was looking back at her and smiling. Sylvester said, "Perhaps you should stand closer to the wall."

Sapoora had a bewildered smile, wondering what this was all about. A sudden wave of air pressure stirred everything in the room, and the canary started a nonstop excited song. The breeze subsided, and in the middle of the room stood Teddy Lupin, whose thick, wavy hair today had a subtle greenish shade.

Sapoora stared at Teddy, mouth open but unable to speak. Rosie exclaimed, "That's just wicked!" She had been fast asleep when Sparkles Apparated into the room, so this was the first time she had witnessed anyone arrive in that fashion.

Sapoora finally turned to Rosie and said, "Rosie dear, what did you say was the name of this school of yours?"

Rosie replied, "The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"I see," Sapoora replied, looking somewhat sternly back at Teddy. "And I'm guessing you're some type of wizard, then." She turned back to Sylvester and said, "What is all this about, and how long have you known about these ... these people?"

"Only for certain since today, though I've been noticing clues about them all my life. Sapoora, listen to me. You know better than I do that the Scar-Maker's weird scars can't be explained by the ordinary laws of nature. The strange events we’ve been seeing are part of a battle going on beyond our ordinary field of vision, and our new friends Mr. Lupin and Professor Longbottom are on our side."

"Okay, then," said Sapoora. "You've never once misled me, Mr. Snape, and I'm going to trust that you know what you're talking about now." She turned to Teddy. "Well, I'm guessing you know all about me, sir, especially since I've seen you following me around for weeks. I nearly called the police a time or two. Please tell me about yourself."

Teddy gave Sapoora his most winning smile as he said, "My name is Edward Lupin, but you may call me Teddy. I work with the Auror Office of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and I am your bodyguard."

"I see," said Sapoora. "For now I'll go with Mr. Lupin, if you don't mind. But do, please, tell me more." Rosie listened intently, feeling a bit indignant at Sapoora for being curt with Teddy Lupin, because she thought he was the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen.


Meanwhile at number seventeen Magnolia Road, Sparkles was following the hazy tendrils through the air to see where they led. "No sign of entry or exit, I suppose, Love?" Sparkles said, and Harry nodded in reply. As at other scenes where the Scar-Maker had attacked, the tendrils did not lead to any window or door. Perhaps the perpetrator habitually Apparated to the scene of the attack, Harry and Sparkles had surmised.

Sparkles and Harry were suddenly stopped in their tracks by a voice which filled the room. The voice seemed to be coming from nowhere, or perhaps from everywhere. It was the voice of a woman who spoke with a calm, elegant tone.

"How delightful, and just in time. Have you come to bring me my afternoon tea, scrub-elf?"

Sparkles bristled inside, but spoke with an equally calm but pointed tone. "It seems you'll have to wait for someone else to bring your tea. And my name is Sparkles."

"Yes, yes, of course. I know your name. Every scrub-elf has a name, and you've made quite a name for yourself, if I may say so. May I ask, Sparkles, have you made a visit to Gringotts today?"

Indeed she had, but Sparkles replied, "That's none of your business, whoever you are. Who are you?"

"Temper, temper! Getting under your skin, are we?" The voice spoke with a sickly sweetness, which reminded Harry of Dolores Umbridge, yet the voice also sounded like someone else whom he could not place. "Not satisfied with gents of your own species, eh? I know you all too well. But perhaps indeed you've had your fill of goblins. What masculine creatures might strike your fancy now? Giants? Centaurs? Or worse yet, a human Muggle. Yes, I know you've at last met the delectable Mr. Snape, the bastard brother of the Mudblood Prince. I'm sure you'll find him to be quite a dish ... Oh, Sparkles, you're so small, yet so very hungry, I know ..."

Sparkles' eyes narrowed. "You would speak of him that way, when it was you who murdered his wife ..." In a low, dark tone she muttered "You vile bitch."

The voice laughed derisively. "And a fine day to you, too, my darling scrub-elf. "

Harry and Sparkles continued their investigation without pause. Indeed, it seemed that the more rudely the voice spoke, the closer they were to finding important clues. They observed that the smoke-like tendrils were gradually forming a path that led to the staircase. Had the attacker approached from upstairs?

The voice continued. "Oh, I'm so sorry to have ignored you, Mr. Potter. I must apologize for my manners. May I offer you sorely belated congratulations for your handy victory over the insufferably pathetic Tom Riddle some years ago?"

"You may offer them if you wish," said Harry, "but if you will not speak respectfully to my friend Sparkles, I will not accept your congratulations. But I ask the same question that she asked. Who are you?"

"Ah, wouldn't you like to know! I rather like the name the Muggle press has given me, the Scar-Maker. But I don't suppose you'll be satisfied with that. All right, Harry Potter,, just because you did away with Riddle, I'll riddle you with another name. You may call me The White Queen."

Harry feared for a moment that The White Queen knew that he and Rosie had seen her in their vision of the life-sized white queen chess piece. Yet he continued to feel the same reassuring sense that their thoughts were somehow being shielded from her by an unseen Occlumens. What does it mean, Harry asked himself, that this Scar-Maker calls herself The White Queen?

The voice continued. "You and I have this in common, Mr. Potter, that we have each met Tom Riddle in battle, though in my case the arena of battle was much smaller. If he had only listened to me as he was fighting his losing battle with me, he would have known everything he needed to know to escape his ignominious defeat at your hands."

As they pondered the words of the White Queen, Sparkles began to inspect the staircase, first the railing, then the stairs. Something drew her attention back to the heavy wooden railing, even as the White Queen's voice resumed speaking.

"What is your game, White Queen?" Harry asked. "I take that as an allusion to chess."

"Why yes, very good, Mr. Potter," she answered with a patronizing tone. "And not only that, a game of knowledge and deduction. Perhaps even your friend, the impertinent scrub-elf, has some knowledge to contribute, a clue as to the significance of our meeting here today. I understand she is especially fond of Muggle cinema."

Sparkles said nothing, irritated because the White Queen was speaking about her in the third person instead of addressing her directly, but also because it was unnerving that this unknown person knew so much about her. She had the sense that the Scar-Maker, the White Queen, was deliberately trying to distract her with insults and irritations, which deepened Sparkles' resolve to concentrate on her search for clues.

The voice continued. "I wonder if Sparkles has seen a Muggle film entitled 2001: A Space Odyssey?" Sparkles nodded yes without moving her gaze from the inspection of the wooden handrail, and the voice said "The real year 2001 turned out much differently, I would say. Silly Muggles! Sparkles, resident expert in Muggle cinema, what would you say is the kernel of the plot of the film?"

Sparkles didn't feel much like speaking, but in hopes that the conversation would reveal clues to the White Queen's motives, she answered, "I recall that in the film an unknown alien civilization interacts with a group of prehistoric hominids by means of a monolith, teaching them to use tools. Ages later in modern times, astronauts unearth a similar monolith on the Moon, and when the sunlight hits the monolith it signals the aliens that humans have advanced enough to be capable of space travel."

The White Queen interjected "Excellent, Sparkles! Indeed, when the aliens received the signal, they knew the time had come for the next step. What do you think that has to do with our encounter here today, my elfin nemesis?"

In a dark tone Sparkles replied, "I think I see where you are going with this. You attacked and killed Sylvester's wife twenty years ago, and you've waited for us ever since to find the scene of this crime and realize its significance."

"Ah, yes, good ... good good good ... and now that you've found me here, the time has come for me to begin the real game. I've waited for this for so many years ... this is a splendid moment, and you should feel honoured to be a part of it," said the unseen White Queen.

Sparkles was standing at the foot of the stairs, looking lengthwise up the wooden handrail, which was made of handsome knotted wood. At the bottom end of the railing it curved downward into a scroll, and as Sparkles inspected it, she noticed two especially dark knots, one on each side of the scroll, looking like a pair of eyes. A chill came over her at the sight, and without averting her gaze she clapped her hands together, and from her hands sprang forward the forms of three white luminous squirrels, which immediately darted back and forth and up and down around her. Harry took notice of it. They were her Hero-Spirits, an advanced elfin charm akin to the Patronus. He held out his wand in readiness.

"Heads up, Harry!"

As Sparkles watched, the two dark eye-like knots suddenly opened up into a pair of glassy serpentine eyes, and the whole railing abruptly lurched loose from the banister and burst into flame, taking the form of a huge fiery serpent. The scroll turned into the face of the serpent, which reared its head, then lunged at Sparkles. But Sparkles leapt out of the way just in time. Out of the serpent's mouth flickered a tongue which looked like a ghastly bolt of jagged orange lightning, and one of the luminous squirrels darted into the path of the tongue of lightning, preventing it from reaching Sparkles. The squirrel convulsed momentarily when struck by the serpent's tongue, hung motionless in mid-air for a second, and then returned to motion along with the other two as the fiery serpent raised its head once again.

Harry looked on with horror as the serpent kept on lunging at Sparkles. She was holding her position, repelling the serpent with blasts of elfin magic, and the squirrel Hero-Spirits kept on leaping into the path of the serpent's dreadful lightning tongue before it could reach her neck. But how could they advance upon the monster? Clearly the serpent was animated by Fiendfyre, and something decisive needed to be done quickly. Harry recalled an Eastern Tradition counter-curse he had learned from none other than Viktor Krum. They had been sparring partners during a symposium on the Dark Arts at the Durmstrang Institute, which they had both attended several years previously. The counter-curse would transform all the Fiendfyre into ordinary fire and prevent any Ashwinders from rising up from the ashes, but Harry doubted that he could control it well enough to prevent the whole house from burning down, so they had to time their escape very precisely.

"Sparkles, on three" Harry shouted as he reached to Sparkles with one hand and aimed his wand with the other. "One ... two ... Anathema Phlox Anathema!" Sparkles managed to grasp Harry's hand as he incanted the last Anathema, and they Apparated out just as the serpent of Fiendfyre exploded and the whole house burst into flame.

Back at Sylvester and Rosie's hospice suite, Teddy Lupin was slowly but surely winning Sapoora's trust as he patiently answered her polite but pointed questions. Rosie was positively delighted when he demonstrated his abilities as a Metamorphmagus, and thought his hair looked especially dashing in a light rosy colour which he produced in Rosie's honour. Suddenly, without warning, Harry and Sparkles tumbled out of mid-air in the middle of the room, and before the whirlwind of their Apparation completely disappeared, everyone saw the tip of the serpent’s lightning tongue flash out of the hazy cloud, barely missing Sparkles as she tumbled out of the way. Then it was gone.

The room was silent as Rosie, Sapoora, Teddy, Neville, and Sylvester watched Harry and Sparkles pick themselves up off the floor and brush themselves off. Sparkles turned to Sylvester and broke the silence with a smile, "Don't worry, Love, we're all right, and I do believe we've found some answers, haven't we, Harry?"

Harry nodded, put his slate to his ear, and spoke, "Muggle secure mode, Little Whinging Fire and Rescue ... yes, I would like to report a fire at number seventeen Magnolia Road ..."

The rainy Tuesday morning of July the thirty-first was the beginning of the new normal for Rosemary Snape, her grandfather Sylvester, and their friend Dr. Sapoora Dasari. Sapoora was somewhat in shock, as she was both the last of the three and the least prepared to learn that there were real witches and wizards, and that the criminal called the Scar-Maker was in fact a mysterious evil witch. Though Sapoora was still on formal terms with Teddy Lupin, she was steadily warming up to him and was glad under the circumstances to have a wizard bodyguard. She spent the morning arranging for Teddy to be an official volunteer at the hospital, with duties that kept him as close to her as possible at all times.

As for Sylvester, he awoke earlier than usual and called for his breakfast right away, finishing it whilst Rosie was still fast asleep. He once again pulled out the precious letter he had received by owl from his brother Severus, along with the mysterious, mostly-blank sheet that came along with it. So much had happened the previous day that the letter had been forgotten; now he wondered what would happen when Rosie signed her name on the blank line.

Rosie started to stir, and as he had done many times, Sylvester closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He never knew what Rosie would be up to next, but it usually was quite entertaining. He had a startling thought: if she can see people’s thoughts, why doesn’t she notice when I’m pretending to be asleep? Sylvester recalled Harry saying that Severus was a master of Occlumency. Sylvester had excelled in Latin, and felt instantly at home with words such as Occlumens and Legilimens. If Severus could hide his own thoughts, could he hide someone else’s as well, Sylvester asked himself. Can he see and hear my thoughts right now? What would it hurt to try to tell him something? Severus, if you can hear me, hello, and thank you. Thank you very, very much. You don’t know how much that letter has meant to me. Or perhaps you do?

Rosie sat up on her futon, stretched and yawned, grabbed a few clothes and her toiletries and headed to the shower down the hall. When she returned, she immediately fed the always-oblivious Mr. Snakey-poo and the much more engaged canary, Mrs. Chirpsworth. As Rosie talked to the canary, she made frequent chirping noises, to which Mrs Chirpsworth replied with gusto. Sylvester wondered for the first time if she really had the power to talk with the bird. It was one of many remarkable thoughts that Sylvester was finding believable for the first time.

After breakfast Rosie spent much of the morning texting and Skyping with her friend Gina Paulucci, who lived in London and whom she had just seen at her early birthday party the previous weekend. Now that they both had received their Hogwarts letters they could talk about everything, and they did. Gina had often made things move at a distance, and she was practicing levitating pencils and other small objects. Rosie told Gina all about yesterday’s events, and propped up her phone so Gina could see as she drew pictures of Sparkles and Teddy Lupin. Feeling empowered by her new knowledge of her own magical abilities, Rosie drew more energetically than ever, and used her largest drawing pad. A few lines, curves, and a burst of shading, and “voila!� she said as her portrait of Teddy Lupin unfolded like a blooming flower, completing itself by magic. The two girls giggled at the handsome young man, then Rosie had an idea. She leaned toward the picture and blew on it, causing his shirt to become unbuttoned and allowing a peek at his chest.

As the girls fawned over Rosie’s increasingly provocative picture of Teddy Lupin, Sylvester forgot himself and let out a pained sigh, just loudly enough for Rosie to hear. Rosie turned to her grandfather with a look of shock on her face, then ran over to him as he laughed.

“Grampy! Honestly!� she said as she pulled his quilt over his face. “Oh, pardon me. Good morning, Grampy!� she continued as she gave him a hug, the quilt still covering his face.

“Good morning, Little Miss Witch!� Sylvester replied, his voice muffled by the quilt. “Are you ladies going to share Mr. Lupin with your other witch friend Miss Diggory, or does he have his hands full enough with just the two of you?�

“Oh stop, Grampy, I don’t know whether to hit you or hug you!� Rosie answered as she did a little of each. “But she’s away with her father right now. Oh, my! I just thought of something. I wonder if that means DaNessa’s father is a wizard. Gina, let’s try to call her mum.�

Their friend DaNessa Diggory lived in Liverpool with her mother and stepfather. Rosie made the three-way phone connection, and in a few moments Rosie and Gina had DaNessa’s mother Cynthia on the phone. Cynthia confirmed that she had known all along that DaNessa would be receiving a Hogwarts letter one day. Cynthia said she herself was a Muggle, but DaNessa’s father Derek Diggory was a wizard who lived in Jamaica most of the time, and that’s where he and DaNessa were right now.

Cynthia asked Rosie if she could speak for a moment just with her grandfather. “Why of course! Here he is. I’ll call you back in a bit, Gina. One moment please.� Rosie pulled the quilt off her grandfather’s face and said “It’s for you.�

Cynthia said, “Hello, Mr. Snape. How are you feeling?�

“I’m happy to say that at least for now I’m feeling the best I have in several years,� said Sylvester.

“Well, Mr. Snape, now at last I can tell you that I’ve known for a long time that there was such a person as Severus Snape, and I always wondered if there might be a connection. And I must confess I haven’t been looking forward to this day. Ever since Derek told me that a relative of his named Cedric was murdered by a dark wizard during a magical tournament, I’ve had my doubts and fears about Hogwarts.�

“That’s very understandable, Mrs. Robertson,� Sylvester replied, as that was Cynthia’s last name. “It would seem that indeed there are dangers in the magical world, as in our own. But I do think that the people I’ve just met are good people, and our children are in good hands. Furthermore, the magical world with its risks and opportunities will not go away if we choose to ignore it.�

“I suppose you’re right,� Cynthia replied. “It does help to know that DaNessa will have good friends at Hogwarts. I had worried about that. She’s struggled with making friends. Being a multiracial child with unusual interests has been a difficult path for her, and to tell you the truth I’ve wished she somehow could spend more time with Rosie and Gina. I suppose now we know why they’ve found so much in common! Lovely to talk with you, Mr. Snape.�

Good day, Mrs. Robertson!� Sylvester handed the phone back to Rosie, and realized he meant what he had said. He felt good, and he felt happy in a way he did not remember feeling since his wife had died. He reached for his own phone, and Rosie saw his face break into a bright smile.

“Let me guess, Grampy. You have a message from Sparkles!�

Sylvester put on a stern, indignant expression. “No, you little imp, I do not have one message from Sparkles.� He kept the stern expression for a few seconds, then broke into a smile. “For your information, I have three messages from Sparkles, and one of them pertains to you.�

“What is it? What is it, Grampy?�

“Patience, young lady. You must learn to be patient, at least for a day.�

Rosie stamped her foot in consternation, then smiled again. Tomorrow was the actual date of her birthday, and she realized Sparkles must be planning some kind of surprise. “Okay, Grampy, how about if you chat with Sparkles, and Gina and I will have our own chat. Agreed?�

“Ah, yes, if you insist, Miss Witch.�

Rosie reconnected with Gina, and soon they were exchanging all the tidbits of knowledge concerning Hogwarts that they knew at the time. Sylvester looked at his own phone, answered a couple of Sparkles’ messages, yawned, and soon was genuinely fast asleep.

Meanwhile, in the Auror Office Harry had tapped into Little Whinging Fire and Rescue’s preliminary report on the fire at number seventeen Magnolia Road. Several details had them completely flummoxed, which did not surprise Harry. No sign of entry or exit, no clear cause for the fire, and most oddly, twisted and hideously gnarled pieces of the banister railing were lying all about. Also noted was that a small pair of charred women’s shoes was found, girl-sized but apparently quite stylish before they were burnt up, with no clue as to how they got there.

Sparkles was sitting at a table in Harry’s office, reviewing her notes from other sites related to the Scar-Maker case. Harry spoke up. “It looks like they found your shoes. I do trust you have enough others to get by on.�

“A pity indeed. I really liked that pair. I do have two other pairs just like them, but those were the most comfortable ones. Here, Love, have another piece of birthday cake.� Sparkles had worked in the Hogwarts kitchen as an elf-girl, and loved to bake fine cakes. She had brought a huge one for Harry's birthday, and was trying not to have to bring any of it back home.

Harry’s mind was fixed on the Scar-Maker, who had identified herself as the White Queen. He remembered that there was a White Queen in Alice Through the Looking Glass and wondered if that meant something. He was looking for any clue as to the White Queen’s identity.

“Sparkles, do you think the White Queen could possibly be … Rita Skeeter?�

Sparkles burst into riotous laughter, which told Harry she didn’t find the Rita Skeeter theory very compelling. After what seemed like a half a minute, Sparkles caught her breath and said, “That’s a good one, Harry.�

“Glad, I think, to have provided you with a moment of levity, Boss.� It wasn’t the first time Sparkles had laughed at one of Harry’s tentative theories.

“Well, Handsome, in all seriousness, I can see how you got there. Skeeter and the White Queen do have this in common, that each in her own way is a stroppy, unpleasant bitch.�

This time it was Harry’s turn to enjoy a good chuckle. “You have such a way with words, Boss.�

Sparkles continued. “Other than some superficial similarities, my humble theory is that the White Queen is someone completely different, someone whom we have never met before.�

“You’re probably right, as usual,� Harry said. Sparkles’ doubts rang true, but since it was his job not to rule out any possibility until it had been completely disproven, he wrote Rita Skeeter’s name down on his list of possible suspects. It was a very short list, as Skeeter’s name was the only one on the list so far.

It was coming close to noon, and Harry’s thoughts turned to his upcoming lunch appointment with Draco Malfoy. As soon as it came to light that Rosemary Snape was related to the Malfoys, he knew that this conversation would be taking place.

Harry envied Neville for his comfortable rapport with Draco and the other Malfoys. It helped that Scorpius was excelling in Herbology, and enjoying it much more than anyone had expected. It also helped that in school Neville had never really been a direct nemesis to Draco the way that Harry had been. Harry seriously considered leaving it in Neville’s hands to tell Draco and his family about Rosie, and might have done so except that the connection to the Scar-Maker case gave him an important reason to talk to Draco himself. Harry kept thinking about what Sylvester said about working on forgiving his father, and it weighed on Harry’s mind that all these years later he still had work to do on forgiving Draco. This would be a good time to take a step forward.

The time had come. Harry fidgeted more nervously than he realized he would, then told himself to go on the count of three. He thought to himself One, Two, Three, and Disapparated, finding himself instantly at the door of a new Ukrainian café that had just opened in Diagon Alley, reputed to have excellent Borsch. Draco was already there. The two men nodded as they were shown to a table.

Harry made a pre-emptive strike. “Draco, I know I’ve mentioned this before, but I truly am terribly sorry about the incident with the Sectumsempra spell. Not a day goes by without me thinking of how much worse it could have gone for you.�

“I’m willing to put it far in the past, Harry, but I do appreciate you saying so. There are things I regret from school days as well. How about if we move forward? I know you must have called me here for something besides that.�

“Yes I have, and I thank you,� Harry replied, already feeling more at ease. “Perhaps you’ve heard by now that a new student is entering Hogwarts, a Muggle-born great niece of Professor Snape.�

“Yes, the news of Miss Rosemary Snape has been traveling like lightning. Wise of the faculty to keep her a secret till now, otherwise she might have been a pre-made celebrity, like someone else I know.�

Harry winced and smiled at the jab. “Indeed. Honestly, I really wish I could have just entered Hogwarts as nothing but an ordinary young wizard. Anyway, here’s something we’ve kept under wraps. On her grandmother’s side she’s descended from a man known amongst Muggles as Nick Rickles, but born Nicodemus Malfoy.�

Draco slapped his hand on the table and paused for a few seconds. “The Squib.� Draco paused again, his expression vacillating between an astonished smile and a serious, pondering look. Then he spoke up. “Of course I’ve heard of Nicodemus. We’ve done our best to pretend he never existed, but he did have his friends, especially amongst the Goblins. I have no doubt the Blacks would have never let the Malfoys hear the end of it, had they not had a Squib of their own.�

Harry told Draco the whole story of meeting Rosemary, and summarized Sylvester’s life story. Draco hadn’t heard anything so interesting in a long time. Their bowls of Borsch arrived. It was delicious.

“You mean to tell me,� Draco said, “that in the midst of the First Wizarding War, Dumbledore was at a Muggle funeral, matchmaking with Snape’s half-brother and a descendant of the Malfoy Squib?� Draco smiled broadly. “I’ve had a new respect for Dumbledore for some time, but now in spite of myself I think I’m actually beginning to like him.�

Harry smiled. He had known Draco for twenty-seven years, and for the first time he felt like they were not far from being friends. “Along with the letter Professor Snape sent to his brother, there was a document which I believe pertains to the Magical Birthright Act of 1850.�

“Yes, somehow that doesn’t surprise me. There’s a vault in Nicodemus Malfoy’s name at Gringotts, and rumour has it that he left some interesting things in it. Not necessarily huge amounts of Galleons, but valuable things, things that Father has hoped to get his hands on somehow. If Rosemary has an inheritance letter, that would pretty much put a stop to Father’s hopes in that regard. Oh well, to tell you the truth it irritates me to hear it every time he brings it up.�

“Draco, tell me if you will, how do you think your family will react to Rosemary?�

Draco scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Well, as for me, years ago I would have ignored a Muggle-born relative as best I could, but I would say that Astoria and I will be very comfortable with Rosie. It will be a bit more of an adjustment for Mother, but to tell you the truth I think she would try if I ask her to. I dare say Mother and Astoria both would love to dote upon a girl.� He paused. “Father is the one about whom I would worry the most. I’m sure he would ignore her completely, except that the fact she’s also a Snape makes that well nigh impossible. And if she stands between him and the Squib’s vault, that doesn’t help. But, I’ve seen him adjust to new realities better than I had imagined he would. All in all, I think things will be okay. Not perfect, but okay.�

“One more thing, Draco. I apologize for asking, but since we’ve found that Rosemary’s grandmother was killed by the Scar-Maker, I must ask, did the Death Eaters have any knowledge of her death, or any other attacks in those days, which may have been connected with the same perpetrator?�


“I’m not offended you ask. No need to apologize. Father would know much more of course, but I can tell you this, that the Death Eaters knew of several attacks upon Death Eaters and non-Death Eaters alike, which were completely mysterious and unconnected with either side of the Second Wizarding War. I had never heard of Rosemary Jane Rickles-Snape before you told me about her today, but I have a hunch that her death would fit the same profile.�

“Thank you very much, Draco. It was good to talk with you today. It really was. I think you’ll enjoy meeting Rosie. She’s a delightful young lady. She looks much like a Malfoy, and just a hint like her great uncle Professor Snape, but mostly she looks and acts like her own self. I happen to know that Sparkles plans to take her on her first visit to Diagon Alley on her birthday tomorrow.�

Draco laughed. “I imagine we may meet her, then, as our whole family will be here at Diagon Alley all day tomorrow. I suppose you and Longbottom have made your famous bet?"

"I didn't realize it was so famous. For your information it's a bit harder to guess than I had anticipated. Neville thinks he sees much of Ravenclaw in her, and I would have to say he has a point. But I'm going with Slytherin, considering her family connections to you and to Professor Snape. She does have a certain affinity to snakes as well. Of course the Sorting Hat will know for sure."

Ever since Neville had joined the Hogwarts faculty, he and Harry had made a friendly wager every time they made a joint venture to meet a new student, regarding which house the new student would be sorted into. Neville had lost the first bet and handed Harry a Galleon which he had in his pocket, and the same Galleon had changed hands many times since. They were almost evenly matched, and Harry quipped that this meant that they were equally bad at guessing. But it was a point of silent pride between Harry and Neville that they actually were quite good. They had agreed to call it a draw whenever they were both wrong, and the student was sorted into one of the other two houses that neither had guessed. But after dozens of bets they had not had one single draw. One or the other of them had always been right.

"Well, then, we'll see if you and Longbottom continue your streak, or if you finally draw. Have a good day, Mr. Celebrity.�

Harry laughed and smiled in relief as the two men parted. This conversation went far better than he had thought it would.

The sky was clear again before dawn on August the first, Rosie’s eleventh birthday. The air was very comfortable, and a pleasant, gentle breeze awakened Sylvester. He cracked his eyes open and saw that Rosie was awake, gazing with the telescope at the bright waning Moon through the open window to the south. Sylvester pretended still to be asleep, and soon Rosie’s eyes grew heavy again and she fell asleep at the table.

When she woke up again, sunlight was streaming into the room, and she saw Sparkles sitting next to her grandfather. They were both looking at her with a smile. “Why, good morning, Sparkles! Good morning, Grampy!� said Rosie.

“Happy birthday, Rosie Lily!� Sparkles and Sylvester said in an attempted unison that wasn’t very well synchronized. Rosie ran and hugged them both, and noticed they were holding hands.

“Now Miss Snape,� Sylvester said with a suddenly stern voice, “You had best get yourself cleaned up and ready right away, because you have a big day ahead of you.�

That was all Rosie needed to hear. She grabbed some clothes and headed right out the door to the shower down the hall. Soon she was back, dressed in black slacks and, as usual, a t-shirt featuring a strong female character. Her heroine of the day was Lieutenant Uhura from Star Trek. Rosie chuckled, noticing for the first time that all three in the room had t-shirts with people on them. Today her grandfather was wearing a shirt with Albert Einstein sticking his tongue out, and Sparkles wore a shirt with a picture of David Bowie in character as “Ziggy Stardust,� under an open vest made from a pillow case.

“Do you like shopping, Rosie? Would you care to come with me to Diagon Alley and shop for the items on your list of required textbooks and materials for school? Or would you rather wait for another day?� said Sparkles.

“Oh, please, let’s go today. I am so ready to go!� Rosie retrieved her Hogwarts letter and list of requirements, and suddenly looked serious. “How much money are these items going to cost? We have hardly any money.�

“Not to worry, Love,� said Sparkles. “Your grandfather has something of value for you, a document that you must sign.�

As Rosie looked, puzzled, Sylvester reached for a pocket inside his open sweater and pulled out his letter from Severus, along with the mostly-blank page that came with it. He handed that page to Rosie, who reviewed what it said.

Ask, and ye shall receive.

____________________
MBA MDCCCL


Sylvester handed Rosie a calligraphic ink pen and inkwell, and said “According to Mr. Potter, you should sign your full name on the line.�

Rosie took the pen and dipped it in the ink. As an artist she had used pens like this before. She signed her name with a flourish.

Rosemary Lily Snape

She spontaneously dotted the i in Lily with extra verve, and as she finished signing her name, the dot began to grow into a shape that looked like a black chess piece, and the two letters y blossomed into beautiful lily flowers. But not only that: As Rosie, Sylvester and Sparkles looked on, letters and words began to appear in the blank area which filled most of the page. When the letters became readable, Rosie read it aloud:

Pursuant to the Magical Birthright Act of 1850,
the property and inheritance rights of
Rosemary Lily Snape
the undersigned magical descendant of
Nicodemus Malfoy Rickles, Squib
Shall be fully honoured and respected by all


“What does this mean?� Rosie asked. “What kind of property did Grampy Nick have?�

“Well, we shall find out quite soon, Love� replied Sparkles, “unless, of course, you’d rather go to the zoo for your birthday, or perhaps to …�

“Oh, please, I am looking forward to this so much!�

“All right then, if you insist!� said Sparkles, beaming at Sylvester, who was laughing. “Witches and Wizards usually enter Diagon Alley by way of a pub called The Leaky Cauldron, but if you’ll take my hand, we’re going to arrive via the Elf Entrance.�

“Will I be too tall, Sparkles?� asked Rosie.

Laughing, Sparkles replied “Not at all. What I mean is, we’re going to travel by Apparation. I’m warning you that many feel ill the first time or two, but once you get used to it you’ll agree that it’s the only way to travel. Are you ready, then, dear?�

Rosie sighed in nervous anticipation, then said “Yes, Sparkles, I’m ready, I think … I hope.�

“I know you are, Rosie. Take my hand, and let’s get this party started!�

As Sylvester watched, there was the sound of a loud crack as Sparkles and Rosie disappeared into the whirlwind of their Disapparation. He felt a contented happiness, and a type of discontent as well. He had long since accepted his looming death by cancer, but as he watched Rosie Disapparate with Sparkles, he felt a sharp longing that somehow the three of them could live as a family forever.

Rosie was thankful that her first Apparation with Sparkles was over with quickly, because when her feet first touched the cobblestones of Diagon Alley, she didn’t feel well at all. She was glad that she hadn’t eaten any breakfast, because she certainly would have lost it.

“Rosie Love, are you okay? I’m here with you. Don’t move too quickly, dear. Take a couple of deep breaths.�

Rosie realized that she was clutching Sparkles’ tiny but long-fingered hand with a death grip. “O my, thanks,� she said, and breathed deeply, following Sparkles’ directions. “I’m so sorry. I must be crushing your hand.�

Sparkles gently placed her other hand on top of Rosie’s and gently rubbed it. “No need to apologize, Rosie. I’m an elf, and that means that I’m not so easily crushed. Go ahead and hold on as long as you need to, and when you’re ready, slowly straighten yourself up.�

The disorienting fog that filled Rosie’s head steadily dissipated, and she drew her gaze up from the cobblestones beneath her. Fantastic sounds and smells filled her consciousness, even as her eyes focused on the amazing sights that filled the street. Wizards and witches of all ages, races, and manners of dress were walking about, along with a few elves and one or two other species that Rosie did not recognize. Up and down the street were shops, cafés, and boutiques of all manner of description, but her eyes were immediately drawn to one immediately across the street from her. Over the door and front windows were painted the words WISEACRE’S WIZARDING EQUIPMENT, and Rosie’s attention was captured by the beautiful antique-looking telescopes and other scientific instruments on display. One circular device in particular drew her attention.

Rosie completely forgot that she had felt ill moments ago, and loosened her grip on Sparkles’ hand. “O, look, Sparkles! What a beautiful silver astrolabe! May I go look?�

Sparkles smiled. “Of course, Rosie, you may look all you want. It’s your birthday, after all! Of course we’ll be stopping back here again to pick up a few of your school supplies after we’ve been to Gringotts. But it won’t hurt to take a look right now.�

“I’ll be only a moment, Sparkles,� Rosie replied. But she took far longer than a moment. Rosie hesitated for a moment at the door of Wiseacre’s, then stepped inside, with Sparkles following close behind. She felt like she had walked into a museum, with all the finely crafted telescopes, globes, charts, phials, and scales which were for sale. She wandered towards a section with many sextants, sundials, and a large armillary sphere, and finally found her way to the polished silver astrolabe which had first caught her eye. “Look, Sparkles, isn’t this marvelous? I have a paperboard astrolabe which Grampy ordered for me online, but it’s nothing like this one. It’s beautiful.�

“Well, you learn something new every day,� laughed Sparkles. “I don’t think I’ve ever even known what these things were called. So you know how to use it, Love?�

“Yes! Astrolabes are very ingenious inventions. They were first used centuries ago for taking precise sightings of stars and planets, and making all manner of astronomical calculations. If I sound like I’m reading a school report, maybe it’s because I am. I wrote a paper on the astrolabe for school, and gave a demonstration in class with my paperboard astrolabe. Oh, I would love to try out this lovely silver one, but I know I mustn’t touch it. I imagine it’s frightfully expensive.�

Rosie was startled by a voice from behind. “Go ahead and try it out, Miss Snape. I’m pleased that you already know how to use it, and I would like to see you demonstrate your skills.�

Rosie turned around and saw directly behind her a witch with dark skin, grey hair, and a pointed black witch’s hat with pictures of stars, planets, and nebulae all around it. “Why, … thank you,� Rosie stammered. “A pleasure to meet you, … may I ask … “

“Of course you may ask my name,� the witch replied. “My name is Aurora Sinistra. I’m Professor of Astronomy at Hogwarts, and have been for many years. It has been a long twenty years since the last time a Snape visited Diagon Alley. I speak, of course, of your great uncle Severus Snape. He was a most esteemed colleague of mine. Welcome to Diagon Alley, Rosemary Snape! Now, feel free to step outside the door and try a sighting. You’ll find this astrolabe does a bit more than your paperboard Muggle astrolabe. Don’t worry, the shopkeepers know that I’m supervising.�

Rosie saw Professor Sinistra nod to a shopkeeper, and smiled. “Thank you very much, Professor.� Rosie gingerly picked up the astrolabe and turned to Sparkles, who was beaming back at her. They followed Professor Sinistra out the shop door, and Rosie stood, wondering what else she could possibly sight with the astrolabe, other than the blinding Sun.

Professor Sinistra spoke, “Now, Rosemary, whilst holding the astrolabe, speak these words: ‘Umbra solis, Adclara Mercurium!’�

After politely asking Professor Sinistra to repeat the incantation, Rosie spoke the words, and immediately noticed that to her vision the brightness of the Sun was now gently shaded by what looked like a fuzzy dark circle in the sky. Then she noticed that she could clearly see a star-like dot to the left of the Sun, and realized it was the planet Mercury. She could also see Regulus, Orion’s belt, and other prominent stars, shining faintly yet clearly in the clear blue sky. She excitedly held the astrolabe up and aligned it with the planet, and found that when it was aligned, Mercury appeared to grow from a dot of light to a thin crescent. “Wow! I can see the planet’s phase, as it’s nearing its closest approach to Earth during inferior conjunction. Oh, I do hope to have one like this one someday.�

“Indeed! It would appear that on the Muggle level you’ve already reached the Seventh Year of Astronomy. But don’t let it go to your head, as there’s a whole magical dimension which you must now learn from the beginning level.�

“I understand, Professor Sinistra. Thank you oh so much! I promise I will study very hard!�

Rosie was again startled by an unfamiliar voice, this one the voice of a man who spoke with a commanding tone. “If you would like the astrolabe, it’s yours, Miss Snape.�

Rosie was starting to feel like a celebrity. Did everyone in this magical place know her by name? She felt a bit afraid to turn around to see who was speaking to her now. The imperious tone of his voice was unsettling, and his generosity struck her as being too good to be true. She turned around and saw a regal-looking wizard with a black robe and a walking stick, and long white hair. The most startling thing, though, was that he looked exactly like photos Rosie had seen of Grampy Nick, only with a much more serious look on his face. Standing next to him was a witch, also with white hair, wearing a stylish black coat and pillbox hat. Rosie noticed that, though Sparkles remained confident as always, she seemed to get a bit more serious when this couple appeared, and something in the atmosphere seemed slightly more tense and prickly. She also noticed that the witch nervously glanced, more than once, at the tattoo of Dobby on Sparkles’ arm.

For a moment all were silent, then the witch cleared her throat and spoke up. “Miss Snape, allow us to introduce ourselves. This is my husband Lucius, and I am Narcissa Malfoy. Hello, Sparkles.�

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy� Sparkles replied, seeming a bit more relaxed. “Your welcome and your generosity are much appreciated. I’m sure – “

“Speak no more of it,� Lucius interjected sternly. “Let it not be said that any heir of any Malfoy would receive less than the very best. I’m sure the two of you will be visiting Gringotts today, if you haven’t already. Be it known that whatever your ancestor Nicodemus has left you, you needn’t spend it anytime soon.� He paused for a moment, then continued. “Everything you need for school, plus a thing or two you want, will all be covered, by us. Consider it our way of saying, welcome to the world of magic.�

“Why, thank you, Mr. Malfoy!� Rosie replied, with a brightening smile. She still felt a bit unsettled and suspicious, but she felt like a princess being treated so kindly. She tried to come up with something else to say, but felt speechless, and apparently the Malfoys had nothing more to say as well, as Lucius Malfoy simply gave her a curt nod before turning and walking away down the street. Narcissa gave a polite smile and followed Lucius.

Rosie looked back at Sparkles, who gave Rosie an enigmatic smile, and nodded in the direction of the shop door. They walked back in, and Rosie smiled at Professor Sinistra, who had stepped back into the store during the conversation with the Malfoys. Now that Rosie knew she could go ahead and purchase her school items right away, she was soon examining one of the handsome brass telescopes required for First Year Astronomy.

Once again Rosie heard a stranger call her by name, this time a boy who was rummaging through stacks of phials and other laboratory supplies. He looked not much older than she, and with hair the same blond shade as hers. “Hello! Are you Rosemary Snape?�

“Why, yes! Seems that everyone here knows who I am!�

“You shouldn’t be surprised. Being both a Snape and a Malfoy makes you extra special, at least in my opinion. I’m Scorpius Malfoy. I’ll be beginning my Second Year. Pleased to meet you.�

“Why, pleased to meet you, too! I’m guessing you’re related to Mr. Lucius and Mrs. Narcissa? Did I get their names right?�

“Yes, you did. I hope Grandfather and Grandmother didn’t scare you too much. They’re still used to the old ways, when Muggle-borns like you were not as well-regarded by some people.�

“Well,� Rosie replied, mildly chagrined but hopeful, “it seems like they’re trying very hard to be friendly, and I appreciate that. So, Scorpius, what subject do you like the best at Hogwarts?�

Rosie’s question proved a great conversation starter, as Scorpius loved Herbology, and when he learned that Rosie had already met Professor Longbottom, he was very proud to point out that he had helped prepare several batches of Professor Longbottom’s All-Purpose Blend. Rosie asked Scorpius many questions about his first year at Hogwarts, and presently noticed that Sparkles was now standing nearby with a different couple; a blond wizard dressed in a dapper dark suit, and a dark-haired witch wearing a simple but tasteful black dress. The three were all smiling at Rosie and Scorpius.

The witch spoke up. “Well, it seems that the cousins are hitting it off well. We’re Scorpius’ parents, Astoria and Draco Malfoy. Welcome to Diagon Alley!�

“Very pleased to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. To tell you the truth, I’ve never had any cousins before, at least none that I had ever met. It’s a bit like having a friend, only with the same colour of hair!�

Everyone laughed, and Scorpius, who never hesitated to speak his mind, looked at Rosie and said. “I notice along with the blonde hair you have a lock of red, and one green and one blue eye. Are you a Chimaera?�

“Why, yes,� Rosie said, somewhat startled. “You must be a biologist indeed, Scorpius! My friend Dr. Sapoora arranged for some genetic tests to confirm it. Yes, my lock of red hair and my green left eye came from a twin sister who vanished into the rest of me before I was born. Not that I’m two people, because I’m simply one girl. I don’t know how to put it into words, but the two parts of me are definitely different, and my green left eye sees things differently than my blue right eye. The blonde hair and blue eye come from my Dad, and the red hair and green eye come from my Mum.�

“Interesting …� Sparkles replied, and asked, “On your Mum’s side you’ve never heard of anyone in the family tree named either Evans or Weasley, have you?�

Rosie narrowed her brow, making a serious effort to find an answer to Sparkles’ question. “No, I’m sorry, but I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of any kin with either of those names. Mother’s name was Ashley McKinley.�

“No need to apologize. I simply thought I’d ask. Those are two surnames of wizards and witches noted for their red hair. Your grandfather showed me a photo of your mother, and she was a lovely girl indeed. Anyway, Rosie, we’ll be off to our next destination, but speaking of the Weasleys, how about if we meet up with the Malfoys again later on at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes? How does three o’clock sound?�

“That sounds like a capital idea� interjected Draco, and the Malfoys went their way after purchasing Scorpius’ new supplies. Rosie looked again at her silver astrolabe and brass telescope and said, “Wow! This is just … so … incredible!� She carried them to the shopkeeper, and said “Sir, I’ve been told that I’m welcome to have these items charged … to the account of – “

The shopkeeper broke in. “Yes, of course, Miss Snape. Senior Mr. Malfoy already arranged that with me. Overstated his point, if you ask me. Nothing against you, Miss, because we’re truly pleased to serve you anytime. But Mr. Malfoy glared at me and said, ‘Don’t you forget that Miss Snape is to have nothing but the best, and if you can’t deliver, remember that I have friends on Knockturn Alley who can.’ Not that he hasn’t said such a thing many times before. Very predictable, Lucius Malfoy can be. Here you go, Miss Snape. Enjoy these fine instruments, and if you ever have any problem with them, don’t hesitate to come back, and we will take care of it for you. Thanks so much for shopping at Wiseacre’s!�

“Thank you so much, Mr. Wiseacre� Rosie replied with a sweet smile, and Sparkles snickered under her breath. Rosie wondered after she said it if that were really his name, but he offered no correction, so she smiled again as she put her new supplies in her bag. After she and Sparkles had stepped back out onto the street, Rosie asked, “Sparkles, where is Knockturn Alley, and what is it all about?�

“It’s another street not far from here. It’s like Diagon Alley in many ways, but also different. Someday you may have occasion to go there, but I would not recommend it at all until you’re older and have learned many of your lessons. The shops there offer many items with strong and dangerous magical properties. People who are interested in the Dark Arts go there. Going there isn’t necessarily bad in and of itself, but it’s rather dangerous.�

“I understand, Sparkles� Rosie replied. It was only her third day of knowing she was a witch, and she already knew that there was a dangerous and frightening side to the magical world. Furthermore, she really, truly meant it when she said she hoped she was a good witch, and not a bad witch.

Yet, deep down, there was something compelling about the words “Dark Arts� which tugged at her. Something dark and mysterious deep inside her soul wanted to visit Knockturn Alley very much. She hoped that Sparkles wasn’t somehow aware of what she was thinking or feeling, but when she looked up again, Sparkles was looking at her with a kind and motherly smile which made Rosie feel very safe and secure, and for the time being Rosie forgot all about Knockturn Alley.

Since the Malfoys were covering all Rosie’s school purchases, Sparkles suggested that, rather than going straight to Gringotts, they might go to Ollivanders to choose her wand. Rosie thought that sounded like a splendid idea, so off they went. Rosie’s eyes took in as much as they could of the shops along the way, and she thought the Eeylops Owl Emporium looked especially delightful. She said, “Sparkles, I’ve been thinking that it would be lovely to have an owl, but I do love my canary, Mrs Chirpsworth. I will miss her very much.�

Sparkles replied, “I’ve been thinking about that, too. I think Mrs. Chirpsworth would be dreadfully put out if she were left behind. But, maybe she doesn’t have to be. There’s such a type of magic as Transfiguration. Do you think that Mrs. Chirpsworth would mind being turned into an owl?�

“Oh, my� Rosie replied. “If it helped her to be able to come along, I think she would like it very much. Could she be changed back?�

“Of course she could, Rosie.�

“But … what if she doesn’t like being brown like an owl? She’s very proud of her bright yellow feathers.�

Sparkles laughed. “Well, who says she can’t be the first canary-yellow owl? Either you’re a very imaginative child, or else you can understand her chirps, which isn’t impossible at all.�

Rosie beamed, and was about to reply, but they had turned the corner, and she caught sight of Ollivanders Wand Shop. Something about the thought of owning a real magic wand struck her with a sense of awe. As they were arriving at the shop, she realized that once again someone was looking at her with recognition, only this time they weren’t sneaking up on her from behind. A woman with reddish hair stood with a group of children, some with red and some with dark hair.

Sparkles spoke. “Hello, Gorgeous! I had a feeling we might run into the lot of you. Rosie, you remember Mr. Potter. This is his gorgeous wife, Mrs. Ginny Potter, and her children, and their cousins.� She nodded towards Rosie. “And this, of course, is our new friend Miss Rosemary Snape.�

Ginny was laughing. Part of her truce with Sparkles was that Sparkles could continue to call Harry “Handsome� just as long as she also called Ginny “Gorgeous,� and Sparkles enjoyed laying it on very thickly, every chance she got.

“Why, thank you for noticing my ravishing beauty, Sparkles!� Ginny replied, which was how she always replied to Sparkles. “Rosemary, we’ve looked forward very much to meeting you. These are my sons James and Albus, and daughter Lily. And these are their cousins Rose and Hugo Weasley.�

“Weasley, as in Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes?� asked Rosie.

“Yes, that’s right! It’s the family business, and I think you’ll enjoy it very much. My brothers George and Ron Weasley work there, and Ron is Rose and Hugo’s father. You and Rose have something in common, as we often call her Rosie, and we understand you’re called Rosie as well.�

“Oh, dear,� Rosie replied, “and my middle name is Lily, too! You may keep on calling me Rosemary, if it helps to avoid confusion.�

“Don’t worry about that,� Ginny laughed, “you’re not in the same year, anyway. Rose and Albus are beginning their Second Year, and Lily and Hugo will be starting next year. James is beginning his Fourth Year.�

Lily Potter stamped her foot and said, “I’ve been looking forward to Hogwarts for so long. I can hardly wait any longer!�

Rosie smiled at Lily and said, “Oh, my, that must be frustrating! And I’ve only known about Hogwarts for two days and I’m already getting ready to go. I’m so sorry!� As Rosie looked at Lily’s red hair and green eyes, she realized why Sparkles had wondered if she might be related to anyone named Weasley or Evans.

Lily replied, “Oh, don’t be sorry. That’s very nice of you to say. Lovely to meet you, Rosemary!�

Albus Potter spoke up. “Is it really true that Severus Snape is your great uncle?�

“Yes, he is, and I’m very proud of that, because it sounds like he was a very important person. I regret not getting to meet him.�

Rose spoke up next, and asked “Did you know that you met our grandmother once?�

“Oh, really?� Rosie replied, puzzled. “How did that come about? Did I meet a witch and didn’t know it?�

“Actually, our Grandmother Granger isn’t a witch. She’s a Muggle, and she and Grandfather are dentists.�

Rosie’s jaw dropped in recognition. “Yes, I remember Mrs. Granger! She was my favourite dentist ever! She was so nice, and nothing she did ever hurt. I wished I could have gone back to her the next time, but she was gone! How did she happen to be my dentist, and how do you know about that?�

“Well,� Ginny replied, “Ever since you were born, witches and wizards have been watching out for you, on account of your relation to Professor Snape. When we found out that the Muggle Health Service had your file all bolloxed up, Mrs. Granger offered to do your dental work for free so your grandfather wouldn’t have to pay for it out of his pocket. By the way, you’ve seen what Rose and Hugo’s Mum looks like, because that’s her in the tattoo on Sparkles’ right arm. Her name is Hermione, and she’s a very brilliant and kind witch.�

“Wow!� Rosie said as she turned and gazed at Sparkles’ tattoo. “It seems as if everyone’s connected somehow here, and I’ve been living in a fishbowl even before I knew about this place, and about magic, and about Hogwarts.�

Sparkles said, “Yes, Rosie Love, that’s more true than you even know. Well, we must get on to Ollivanders, as Rosie is about to choose her first wand. Maybe we’ll catch you again later on today!�

“Very pleased to meet you all!� Rosie said to Ginny and the children. They all said “Goodbye� back to her, and Rosie noticed that Lily had let out a sigh when Sparkles mentioned about Ollivanders.

“Oh, Sparkles, I do feel sorry for Lily. I wish I could do something to help make it easier for her to wait one more year. The same for Hugo, too, but I can tell it’s the hardest for Lily.�

“That’s very kind of you, Rosie. It already helps that you’re willing to be her friend. Speaking of Lily, look who’s coming!�

Rosie looked back, and saw that Ginny and her daughter Lily were running to catch up with them, whilst the others went onward, led by James, the oldest, who appeared to be leading them to a Quidditch supply shop. Ginny spoke up and said “Would you mind if Lily and I tagged along with you to Ollivanders? She would enjoy seeing you picking out your wand.�

“Of course,� Rosie said. “I’d enjoy it too! To tell you the truth, I think having a friend along would help me feel less nervous.�

Lily beamed back at Rosie, and the group arrived at Ollivanders. Rosie felt even more hushed as they stepped into the tiny, dusty shop and her eyes took in the stacks of wand boxes, which went almost up to the ceiling. Soon a woman came and met them, who had thick glasses and a wand stuck in her hair bun.

“Hello, Sparkles. Hello, Miss Snape. We’ve been expecting you. I’m Young Mrs. Ollivander.�

“Hello, Mrs. Ollivander� answered Rosie, who wondered what she meant by “we,� as there didn’t look to be much room for anyone else besides the five of them. She didn’t look altogether young to Rosie either. Rosie was beginning not to be surprised when people already knew who she was.

“Your bill will be covered by Senior Mr. Malfoy, of course.� Rosie nodded, and Mrs. Ollivander gazed closely at Rosie for a few moments, just long and closely enough to make Rosie feel uncomfortable about it. Then she said, “Interesting …� and pivoted on her heel, reaching for a box close to the top of a stack almost exactly to her left.

“What do you find interesting, Mrs. Ollivander?� Rosie replied. The intense look and even the thick glasses made Rosie wonder if by chance Mrs. Ollivander was also a Seer, or perhaps a Legilimens.

“Very good question, Miss Snape. The answer is, no, I’m not a Seer, but yes, I’m a Legilimens. Don’t worry. I never look at anyone’s thoughts without letting them know, and I keep strictly to that which pertains to the business at hand. Here. Try this one!�

Rosie wasn’t sure that Mrs. Ollivander’s reassurance was very reassuring, but she was too interested in the wand to be very concerned. It was gently tapered, and had interesting symmetrical designs carved into it. She took hold of the larger end, and immediately could tell it was the wrong wand, though not far off.

“This is … amazing,� Rosie said. “I get an interesting, strangely calm feeling when I hold it, but … I feel cross-eyed. I don’t know what else to say except that something about this wand is working at cross-purposes with my eyes.�

“All right then,� Mrs. Ollivander replied. “Let’s see … ah, here’s the other one.� She found another box two stacks to the left and a bit further down. The wand looked nearly identical, but with a different carved design.

Rosie picked it up, and immediately felt a calm, cool, spacious feeling, and this time didn’t feel cross-eyed. Instead, she noticed an almost unreal clarity of her vision. “I think this is the right one, Mrs. Ollivander. It gives me much the same feeling as when I first picked up my new astrolabe.� Rosie squinted, captivated by a compelling thought. “This wand has some connection to Mr. Potter’s mother, doesn’t it? This may sound silly, but I think this one pertains to Lily.� Rosie smiled, realizing that she had just uttered a small prophecy.

“Yes, that’s right. This wand and the other one are amongst a very few left that were made from the same willow tree that gave the wood for Lily Evans Potter’s. But they have different cores, which is very interesting. I should have known. This wand and one other one both have as their cores unicorn hairs, which came from the same unicorn as a certain wand which belonged to Narcissa Malfoy, and later to her son Draco, and which even was used for a time by Harry Potter.�

“That’s very interesting, Mrs. Ollivander,� Rosie said, smiling. “How do you keep track of all these wands? Every one is different!�

“My father-in-law, Garrick Ollivander, made most of the wands for sale here. He knew everything about every one of them, but when he became too weak to mind the store, he granted me his memories concerning the wands by means of a magical device called a Pensieve. Thus, I know everything he knows about these wands.�

Sparkles asked, “How many wands were made from the same willow tree and from unicorn hairs?�

“A great many from that willow tree, but only a few with unicorn hairs. Just two others were made with cores from the same unicorn as this one, and one of them was sold five years ago to a wand collector from Denmark named Steinar Poffelhof.�

Sparkles raised an eyebrow. The name Poffelhof sounded to her like a take-off on “Hufflepuff,� and that aroused her suspicion. “What can you tell me about Steinar Poffelhof?�

“Nobody knows much about him at all. He seems to travel the world, and appears in Diagon Alley only once or twice per decade, at unpredictable intervals. He’s about the same size and build as was Professor Snape, but with blond hair and a beard. He wears a plain white outfit designed much like a Durmstrang uniform.�

“Do you still have the other willow wand made with a hair from the same unicorn?� Sparkles asked.

“I knew you would ask that,� Mrs. Ollivander replied, and turned back to select a wand box from the same stack as the first one she had brought out, the one that made Rosie feel cross-eyed. Mrs. Ollivander set the box on a table and opened it up to reveal the wand, which looked much the same as the other two, but with yet another carved design.

Lily Potter had been watching and listening with rapt attention, and spoke up. “That’s a lovely wand. I hope it’s still here next year so I can try it out.�

When Rosie heard Lily speak, she was hit with a sudden feeling of dread that seemed to come out of nowhere. She didn’t know why, but the thought of her new friend Lily trying out that particular wand filled her with horror. She opened her mouth, feeling unable to speak, yet words came out of her mouth:

I’m not saying this to be silly. This wand is dangerous to, and through, Lily.

Rosie was still holding her own new wand which she had selected, or rather, which had selected her. A feeling of unreal clarity and sudden determination came upon her, and she aimed her wand at the wand in the box. A bolt of brilliant turquoise-blue lightning shot out of Rosie’s wand, and in a flash the other wand was burnt to a crisp, box and all. Everyone was shocked, especially Rosie herself. As the smoke cleared, they saw that the wand, besides being burnt, was broken at two spots, making a shape like an S, or rather, like a backwards Z. Sparkles stepped up to the table and looked carefully at the broken, charred wand, then looked gravely at the others.


“This shape,� Sparkles said, “is exactly the shape of the Scar-Maker’s mark, the scar burnt into the necks of her victims.� She turned to Rosie, and asked, “How did you know?�

Rosie was speechless for a moment, then replied, “All I know is that the thought of Lily picking up that wand struck me with terror. I saw a horrid thing happening in my mind.� She turned to Ginny and said, “Mrs. Potter, something like that happened to you, didn’t it? It was the Dark Lord’s diary. It made you do something terrible without you knowing it.�

Ginny Potter, who at that point was hugging Lily closely to her, was silent for a moment, then said, “Why, yes. That’s exactly the case. This has been a bit of a shock, but we believe you, Rosie. And I need to say thank you for doing what you just did.� Ginny turned to Mrs. Ollivander and asked, "Mrs. Ollivander, when Steinar Poffelhof was here, did he try this wand out?"

Mrs. Ollivander replied, "Yes, I believe so. He spend much time examining many wands, especially all the ones made from this particular willow tree. He spent much of the day here, and as he's an expert on wandlore in his own right, I didn't supervise him the whole time. Now I regret that. It appears he may have tampered with that wand."

Mrs. Ollivander then turned to Rosie with a grave but thoughtful expression on her face. “I don’t know what to say, Miss Snape,� she said, “as this is highly irregular. It’s not often that customers have deliberately destroyed merchandise whilst visiting Ollivanders, and I would be contacting the authorities, if it were not that you’re already accompanied by a Senior Auror. I have no choice but to trust that you knew what you were doing, and that you will be very careful in the use of your new wand and follow your teachers’ instructions exactly. As for the wand which has been destroyed …�

Rosie broke in. “Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry, Mrs. Ollivander. I know I must pay for the wand. I can’t make Mr. Malfoy pay for it. I promise I’ll bring you the money after I’ve visited Gringotts.�

Ginny spoke up. “That won’t be necessary. You’ve done us a great favour, Rosie. I’ll pay for it. It’s only seven Galleons.� She found the money in her bag and gave it to Mrs. Ollivander, who seemed satisfied.

As the four took their leave of Ollivanders, Rosie spoke to Lily. “I’m really glad you came along, Lily. I’m sorry if that was a bigger adventure than we thought it would be.�

“Don’t worry. At first I was a bit scared, but I think that was really wicked what you did! I’m glad I saw it, Rosie! Thanks for letting me come. Now I really can’t wait to get my own! But I hope, just the same, that when I do it will be less dramatic!�

Ginny and Lily parted ways with Sparkles and Rosie. As Sparkles started leading the way to Gringotts, Rosie asked, “I’m not going to get in trouble for that, am I?�

“No, of course not!� said Sparkles. “There will have to be an incident report, but we can take care of that later.�

As they continued to walk along, Rosie noticed that Sparkles seemed quieter than usual. “Is everything all right, Sparkles?� she asked.

Sparkles smiled at Rosie and beckoned towards a nearby sitting bench. They sat down facing one another knee to knee, and Sparkles said, “Yes, everything’s all right. Let me tell you something, Rosie.� She paused, and said “When you pointed your wand at the other wand, there was something about your posture, and how you moved your wand arm, and the determined look on your face, that reminded me of someone I once knew, someone who meant very much to me, and to many others. I’m speaking of your great uncle, Severus Snape.�

“You mean, you knew my Uncle Severus?�

“Yes I did. When I was a kitchen-elf at Hogwarts, I was given a special task, because I was the best at Apparating whilst carrying a full tea set, without dropping anything. During the year that Professor Snape was Headmaster, it was my task to bring tea to his office.�

“Oh, Sparkles, would you please tell me more?�

“Of course. You promise not to tell anyone?�

“What about Grampy?�

“Oh, actually, I’ve already told him some things about it.�

Rosie smiled. “Okay, I promise.�

Sparkles straightened herself up, smiled, and said “This is one of my favourite stories. I like to call it ‘The Elf-girl and the Headmaster.’�

Rosie’s face reddened slightly. “Is this a proper story for an eleven-year-old girl?�

Sparkles gently prodded Rosie’s shoulder and laughed. “Oh, you naughty, naughty girl! It was absolutely nothing like what you’re thinking. Besides, I was underage, and his personal ethics were impeccable.� Sparkles paused, smiling mischievously. “Of course, I admit that in those days I imagined a bit more than what actually happened. Professor Snape was quite a dish. So handsome, so dark and mysterious, so lonely. If he had ever asked if he could please have me as a crumpet with his tea, I would have been rather cooperative.�

Sparkles paused again as Rosie’s face turned beet-red. “But please forgive me for getting sidetracked. This is too much fun making you blush, but to be honest, there’s much more to this story than a young elf-girl’s fancy. Professor Snape changed my life, Rosie Love. I am what I am today because of him.�

Sparkles paused once more as Rosie looked at her with an expression of wonder. “Well, then, let us begin. Once upon a time, not so very long ago, in Hogwarts Castle, lived a young elf-girl named Sparkles …�