Chapter Text
The first time they met she had been hugging the post of a balustrade, her knees tucked under her chin and her long black hair melting into the shadows behind her. Severus had been in a similar position, only his arms hugged his knees as he lay curled on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, the aftereffects of the cruciatus curse still rocking through his body. The young girl, very young indeed, as Severus was nought but 19 at the time and she couldn't be a centimeter taller than his waist, had risen from her crouched position and after catching his eye from her spot high above him, turned and disappeared into the shadows like the curly wisps upon her head.
Severus was unsure how long he had laid there, pain still coursing through his veins before he tried to stand and make his way to somewhere more solitary than the lobby of the death eater headquarters - an abandoned manor that suited the likes of he-who-must-not-be-named more than he cared to think about. It wasn't until the raven haired teen found his feet underneath him that he found the offerings left beside him. A small dog, folded and fashioned from a piece of the daily prophet along with a small healing salve that smelled strongly of mint. He looked up then, to the place where the little girl had stood and saw nothing but empty space. Picking up the small tokens, he stood on shaky legs and quietly exited the manor.
***
Despite her young age she knew that this place was not meant for her, she shouldn't be there. It was times like these when she felt homesick. Really homesick. Although her father tried his best to take care of her - despite their short acquaintance he was actually very caring towards her - he hadn't grasped the fact that an abandoned manor filled with all sorts of dark witches and wizards was perhaps not the best place for a 10 year old. She however was smart enough to make herself scarce whenever he took her there and if she was honest, she preferred the manor over her step mother any day.
Since the first time she laid her eyes on the young man, curled up all alone on the cold tiles of the lobby floor, the pair saw glimpses of each other here and there about the manor. Over the months the young girl would sometimes spy a tall, dark and looming figure in the windows of the manor as she strolled the overgrown gardens down below. Sometimes she'd let her curiosity get the best of her as she wandered the manor, finding herself in the basement beneath, the cold damp stones echoing each little step she took. She'd find him down there hunched over a large cauldron meticulously adding this and that to whatever potion he was brewing. She knew better than to interrupt him and she didnt dare stay to watch either. But sometimes she caught herself wanting to question him, ask what magic he was cooking up down there. Really though, despite her childish curiosity she knew better.
After that first time she saw him she decided to carry some healing salve just in case. She would never leave a wounded animal to fend for itself, you either help it or kill it so why should she do any less for him. And though she didnt know him, she found him significantly less... unpleasant than the others. Her gut churned at the sight of some of the men and women that walked through the manor doors, a voice in the back of her mind told her to stay away and keep her head down. But he was different. So the healing salve stayed, stashed away in the pockets of her clothes just in case he needed it and only once did she feel the need to help him again.
She had been playing in the kitchens with a young elf, learning about the world through their eyes and the magic they have when they heard a crash from the large dining room next door. Against her better judgement she had gone to see the cause of said crash, moving as silently as she could before coming to a stop just outside the archway connecting the two rooms. She made herself as small as possible before poking her head around the archway just enough to see the man with the dark black hair and large hooked nose pressed against a wall by an invisible force. She saw blood trickle out of his nose, a stark contrast to his ivory skin. She watched as he held himself as still as possible, despite the curse she knew was coursing through his body. Another man - one older with dark brown locks - had his back to the girl, wand pointed straight at the man held against the wall. She didnt like him, of all of the bad people she knew walked these halls, he was the one she liked the least. He was their leader, their dark lord.
Without so much as a whisper, she turned and vanished from sight as if she hadn't even been there and as far as her young mind was concerned, they were all none the wiser. She didnt really think about the direction, letting her feet decide for her though subconsciously she knew exactly where she was going. Cold stones echoed her steps. The air grew damp and the light began to dim. When she found herself before a large wooden table with a black cauldron upon it, she noticed that she was trembling. Her heart was racing, pounding against her chest. Had she been holding her breath? She sucked in a lung full of air, held it and then released, her lip wobbling as a tear began to roll down her cheek. She heard another bang come from above her that made her jump, more tears making an escape. She reached into her pockets and drew out the healing salve with a shaky hand. She felt terrible. Her chest hurt to think about the young man and the pain he has been made to endure and so for him, she placed the healing salve upon the table. Spying a blank piece of parchment she decided to leave him another token even though her tears made her vision slightly blurry. In record time, at least for her, she folded and flipped the parchment until a small tiger sat in her palm. It wasn't perfect but it was enough. She placed it next to the healing salve along with a silent prayer and her well wishes before turning and running back up the stairs, tripping up more than she ought to. She didn't want to stay here any longer, she couldn't at least not today. She'd wait out in the garden for her father. She'd allow her tears to flow freely, standing there amongst the trees and the flowers, her thoughts occupied by onyx eyes and ivory skin.
***
The next time they saw each other, she had been crying, her face sticky with the evidence of it, fresh tears lining her eyes as she fought them back with all her might. Her small hand was gripped tight in one much larger than hers, the owner of which was practically fuming as they stood in the small entryway of his already small home.
The man holding her hand was slightly taller than Severus, his brown hair was mottled with grey flecks and his eyes were a deep shade of green. His face was wrinkled with age and he wore his multi coloured mustache with pride.
"Severus," the older man grumbled, his voice tense with the effort of holding in his temper. "My... daughter - has had an accident. I was hoping you could tend to her while I tended to the dark lord."
"Of course," severus nodded. He had been lending his services to the death eaters since before he joined so this was nothing out of the ordinary, however. "Might I inquire about what happened?"
The older man scrunched his nose up at this but Severus spoke before he had the chance. "I would rather not use the wrong medication and cause further damage."
The young girls father nodded at him before he cast his hateful eyes towards her. "Ask the girl what happened I haven't the time." And then he had dropped her hand, turned his back and left.
The girl remained standing in the doorway, her eyes turned down to the ground. He took it as an opportunity to scan her for any visible injuries. Seeing as she wasnt dripping blood on the floor of his livingroom he hoped it was only a superficial wound.
She was slightly taller than the last time he saw her, dressed in some rather loose fitting clothes, nothing luxurious or branded. Her caramel brown skin seemed slightly pale as if she were going to be sick and her hair stuck to her tear and sweat slicked face.
"Are you practicing to be a statue or are you planning on adding the common cold to your list of ailments?" He spoke with more concern than he meant to, the lack of any visible injuries causing his heart to pick up the pace.
She raised her head slowly, almost as if asking permission to look at him.
"It's warmer in here by the fire and though it doesnt look it, the couch is quite comfortable."
He hoped she'd come to him willingly, he had no idea how else he would handle a child. However, as she didnt seem to be making any moves closer to him, he huffed a sigh and was about to approach her when his onyx eyes met emerald ones. He could see as clear as the colour of her iris the amount of pain she was in. And then he was moving, so fast that he barely had time to register that she had tried to take a step towards him, that she didnt have the strength to carry herself as she began to fall towards his hardwood floors.
He barely caught her with his arm as he used the other to scoop her up. He felt it then, the tremble that he knew accompanied the pain. He could feel something sticky on the back of the girls shirt and tried to feel more with his fingers as he carried her over to the couch but stopped as soon as she made a quiet noise of protest. Looking down he saw the clear signs of her crying, even as she bit into her trembling lip.
"Is the injury on your back?" He asked.
She nodded.
"Would it be acceptable if I take a look?"
Another nod.
Gently, he placed the girl down feet first, encouraging her to lay on the couch flat on her stomach. Unceremoniously he grabbed a cushion and knelt down beside her to make it easier for him to work. He summoned a small bottle from a shelf somewhere in the room and asked her to drink it.
"It's for the pain," he said and so she drank. "I'm going to use my wand to cut open your shirt, is that alright?" When she made no move to respond he continued. "I can repair it when I'm finished."
At this she nodded, and whispered, "okay."
As uncomfortable as severus was in this position - being a 20 year old death eater with a small fragile and wounded child in his dingy old house - he felt a clawing at the ghost of his heart at the sight of her wounds as he finished opening her loose fitting black shirt. Bits of it stuck to where the wound was dried so as carefully as he could he summoned a cup to his side and conjured some water to assist with removing it.
Severus saw the young girls body begin to shake more intensely as the shirt came away from her skin, the air that danced upon her exposed nerve endings renewing her pain with fervor despite the potion. He decided they could both use a distraction from the sight that laid before him.
"My name is Severus by the way, Severus Snape. And you are?" He tried not to let much emotion leak through which in turn caused him to sound quite monotone. In truth he was gobsmacked at the injury that he was now magically disinfecting.
The girls back was torn in strips, long and short gashes akin to claw marks or that of a whip yet the marks themselves were too precise to have been done by any muggle means or an animal for that matter. The injuries were shallow enough to not cause serious damage but deep enough to traumatize and scar. No, it wasnt the worst he had seen by a long shot, but to be on a girl so small and so young and the amount of strength she had to have not succumbed to the pain of it. He'd hazzard a guess that this wasn't her first time in this position and he'd bet all the gold in Gringott's that he knew exactly why she fought against the pain instead of drowning herself in tears as a flashback of a younger Severus crossed his mind, his father threatening him. I'll give you a reason to cry.
He had barely heard her over the thoughts running through his head as he focused his attention on the worst of her injuries, two twin cuts ran diagonally from her shoulder to her waist and another crossed the two and ran adjacent to her spine.
"H-hine," her small voice was shaken and unmistakably foreign. It came out kind of scratchy, as if she had been screaming. Severus paused a moment, rolling her name over his mind's tongue while also planning his next steps. He-nare, he thought as he accio'd a few potions to his side. Yes, definitely foreign. He heard a strange noise come from the young girl and panicked before he recognized it for what it was, laughter or at least what sounded like laughter in the split second before pain coursed through her body. He sneered as he couldn't possibly know what there was for her to find funny in this situation but-
"Close but not quite," she groaned as the laughter caused a a numb kind if tingle to run through her. He moved to see her face which she had turned in his direction, a soft but uncomfortable smile on her small face. "It's more like 'ne' as in 'never', y'know? He-ne... Hine."
Oh, he didnt mean to say that out loud but was grateful for the correction and for the potion which seemed to be taking effect.
"He-ne," he tried again.
Her smile grew a little before fading completely. "Yes, but my uncle calls me Hunter."
"Your uncle?" He questioned clearly confused.
"I know he called me his daughter but I'm not, I dont want to be either," she huffed, wincing as she did. "My father, my real father was a better man than he ever will be. He being my father's eldest brother who, when my father passed away, decided to marry-"
"Your step mother," yes, now he understood. As controversial as the death of a fellow death eater was, they were all familiar with the family and their strained ties to one another. "I am... my condolences to you, for your father."
It had been only three months since the fall of Frederick Selwyn, the youngest son of Elric Selwyn. His cause of death was unknown however snape had his suspicions.
The Selwyn family was a very prestigious pure blood family. They had no known half blood or muggle relations, at least until Frederick. Snape had heard a story about the youngest son of Elric and his first love who happened to be a squib. Even though she wasn't muggle born she was without magic and therefore lesser than Frederick, at least in his father's eyes. Frederick followed her every step, watched her every move and loved her as he had loved no other. He wasn't the same after he was forced back to England and into a marriage he didn't want. However, he endured it for his mother, as a final gift to her he saw to it that he fulfilled her final wish, to continue on their pure blood line.
Severus of course believed that to be the end of the tale and yet it was only the beginning it seemed. For here in his small house in cokeworth, laid a piece of that man's hope's and dreams, battered and torn with a small but fond memory of the man on the forefront of her mind.
Severus turned his attention back to the girls wounds, whispering a spell that had her skin stitching itself back together. He knew it wasn't a pleasant feeling but there was no potion to regrow new skin, at least none that would work as fast and he really didnt want the poor girl to get an infection. He had brought her a blood replenishing potion for when he was done, and a small dose of sleeping draught to take home. She needed to rest and recover and she couldn't do that if the trauma of her injuries attacked her in her sleep.
"It's nice to meet you by the way, Mr snape."
He scowled at the girl without meaning to. She had no idea that that name triggered trauma of his own and so he tried his hardest to school his features into something less frightening lest she see it.
"Severus, please," he bit out before taking a breath. "And it's a pleasure to meet you as well, Hine."
He saw that smile grow again and felt his earlier disdain leave him. He continued speaking to her, asking her questions and such as he knelt beside her, wand in hand and potions at the ready. As it turned out, the young girl had lots to say and when he was finished patching her up the girls colour had faintly returned to her face and a light seemed to shine in her eyes, a light that faltered only a little at the sight of her caretaker.
He arrived back at the house as Severus was helping the girl to stand, his banging on the door as obnoxious as his personality. Wandlessly his door swung open, permitting the older man to come inside.
"Thank you Severus, I'll be sure to bring a bottle of Ogden's finest to the next meeting." The man looked the girl over as he spoke before nodding his head to Severus and turning to leave again.
The small child spoke her thanks to him, her head held high and that light blazing in her eyes before following in her uncle's steps. It wasn't until much later that night that Severus spotted the small paper turtle sitting on the table beside the couch.
***
Hunter, that was the name she carried within the walls of Hogwarts. Her friends all knew her birth name, the one she had been christened with but found Hunter to be easier and so she rolled with it. She sat back down in the compartment her and her friends had occupied on the hogwarts express, smoothing out her robes as she did so. They were almost there. Home, she thought. It was only her second year there and yet she felt like she had been at Hogwarts her entire life. She had been sorted into house Slytherin, much to her family's pleasure, one of the few things her father had deemed acceptable. After all it was 'the least she could do.' Her housemates were privileged and obnoxious, and her head of house, Professor Slughorn, was a dolt, which is a far nicer insult than what her foreign tongue wished to say. Her mind began to drift to that foreign place, a warmer and more innocent place and as the train came to a halt, Hunter spared a thought to her muggle half, her mother and her brother and to her too far away home.
The welcoming feast was just as grand as her first one - albeit less terrifying - which felt like so long ago when in fact it was just last year. Her house had gained three new members and the claps offered for those three new students were controlled and unreserved. Her eyes instead fell to the first years that were sorted into the other houses, Hufflepuff in particular where there was only one whom she had truly been happy to see.
He was a tall - taller than she - and slightly rounded boy. The fat soon to be replaced by muscle if puberty had it's way. His skin was now darker than hers as hers had grown accustomed to the lack of sun over the years and his hair was a mop of soft black curls that brushed his shoulders.
She stood as he turned towards the Slytherin table and he beelined straight to her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she threw herself at him.
"Hey sis, long time no see, huh?" It was the sound of his voice that had her choking up. His accent strong and foreign just as hers was. It was the sound of home.
"True. Took you long enough," she said, standing back to get a better look at him.
Sam was her brother in every sense of the word but not by blood, and like her, he was born with magic. He was her maternal cousin and when his mother died giving birth to him her mother took him in as her own and raised them together like siblings. Their bond was deeper and stronger than most, stronger even than what she shared with her half brother whose blood she shared.
"It's good to see you little brother. I missed you."
"Yeah, you too." With watery smiles they both sat down at the nearest table which just happened to be Ravenclaw, as the sorting ceremony continued. While sitting at different tables wasn't uncommon, it was rare for it to occur on the opening day of the year, not that she cared.
"Where's Cyrus?" He inquired, looking around at all the tables for Hunters half brother.
"You really think my pureblooded brother would be sitting anywhere except at the Slytherin table," the girl scoffed.
Despite the tone, Sam knew she harboured no ill feelings for her half brother. He knew of the attack that her uncle had inflicted upon her last year and that that was the cause in the slight shift in her demeanor now.
"Hunter," came a small voice from beside her.
She turned her attention away from her Whāngai brother and gave it instead to Ruby, her friend and another from Hufflepuff. She was smaller than Hunter in both weight and height, but Hunter found her to be a fierce and loyal friend. Her hair was a very normal brown and her eyes matched only in colour, the shine in her eyes seemed to be unique only to them.
"Oh sorry. Ruby this is my brother, Sam. Sam," she gestured to the brunette to her right, "Ruby."
Unabashedly, Sam moved past Hunter to softly press his cheek to Ruby's, a small smacking sound escaping his lips as he did so.
"Nice to meet you," his foreign voice spoke.
"And you," she whispered, her cheeks tinted a faint pink. "Your brother?" She asked, her confusion evident now.
"Yes, it's all quite simple actually and yet also a bit complicated. I'll explain later," Hunter assured her.
"Oh well, anyways," the brunette continued, looking towards the Slytherin table. "Your other brother, I think he's trying for your attention."
Following her line of sight, Hunters eyes then fell on those of her older brother. Half-brother. He sat surrounded by green at the Slytherin table, his eyes looking intently into her own. Very slowly and discreetly he tilted his head towards the head table before turning to face it himself.
Was he trying to tell her off for not paying attention to the headmasters speech? She had of course noted that the sorting had completed a moment before but the welcoming speech seemed the same as last year. As she turned her attention to the greyed wizard up by the podium her eyes got caught by a pair of onyx ones.
There at the table, was a man who seemed to both attract and repel attention at the same time. He seemed vulnerable in a way, his expression darkened with shadows he was trying to contain. He was all strong angles and sharp outlines amongst peers of creased skin and graying hair. He was, within a room of colours and stars, a black hole that seemed to consume all of her attention.
"Who is that?" She heard her cousin ask, his voice only loud enough for her to hear, "Do you and your brother know him? Is he a-"
"Yes," she breathed, cutting him off and yet not directing her answer to any question in particular.
"Who is he?" Sam asked again.
She could have imagined the slight nod that the man in question gave in her direction. She also could have imagined the tiniest crease in the corner of his eyes - not a smile but... recognition? - as her voice synced with that of the headmasters as she answered her cousin with the only word she could think of.
"Severus..."