Dumbledore stood there in silence as he looked at the tiny, weakened girl laying on the bed. He had given Harriet a death sentence by sending her to the Kingsley's. The dementor's kiss would have been a kinder fate than what she had endured. In the past ten years, he had not once checked on Harriet's safety and well being like someone had kept tabs on Harry's. Harriet had rarely left the house, usually locked up in a hidden room with no windows. Harry's own living situation was considered a paradise in comparison. Dumbledore had not expected the prime minister to be so twisted, so sadistic when he met him and his wife Claire, he thought there was no need for someone to keep tabs on her like there was on Harry.
Albus remembered learning from the Potter's about Harriet's parentage, how they begged him not to tell a single person who her real father was, fearing that he would turn her over to Voldemort or bring harm to her. He had respected their wishes to the point of denying Severus the chance to raise Harriet upon the Potter's deaths. He knew he had made a grave error in judgement when he glanced at the dark haired student. Still the headmaster said nothing.he knew there was nothing he could say to end the potion's master's fury towards what his child had been through.
Harriet laid in the bed as a pained expression grew on the unconscious girl's face. She had been having that nightmare during her unconscious state. The same nightmare she always had, it never changed, it played on repeat in her conscious and unconscious states, looping over and over. While some may have simple nightmares that were mostly made up from their subconscious, Harriet's was very specific, it wasn't something her subconscious made up, it had been a very real event, the worst thing that had ever happened to her, the worst pain she had ever endured in her entire life.
Her face contorted the more she weakly squirmed in the bed, her body twitching slightly every time it happened. She saw herself when she was no older than three. Her foster father had crept into her soundproofed room that he had trapped her in where no one could hear anything. He approached her bed, sitting down on it's edge. As he looked at the sleeping toddler, a sadistic smile crept onto his lips before he slowly touched the small child's fingers. He held the tiny pinky on her left hand for a moment before bending it backwards with incredible easy. She could hear the snapping noise as clear as day. The toddler then woke up as she screamed a horrific, agonizing scream, her pinky finger was so deformed that it was now laying flat on the back of her hand.
Ethan then moved to her ring finger before snapping that one in the same direction. Each scream, each snap of the digit was more horrific than the last. His smile only grew wider, as if he was actually enjoying watching the terrified child's terror and pain, as if her screams were the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Each finger was more satisfying than the last for Ethan. Finally when he ran out of fingers, he moved onto her toes, slowing breaking each one like a toothpick. Harriet could feel the same pain she felt eight years prior. He then moved on to each limb, attempting to break every single bone in her body. The pain she endured seemed to go on forever. Once she could no longer move, he undressed her, and then himself, before violating the toddler, stealing her innocence.
That nightmare, that memory was enough to even make the most stoic person feel sick to their stomach if they glimpsed into her mind to see the extent of her abuse. Those harrowing screams of pure anguish would never leave anyone who glimpsed into her mind. It was vile and sick, most would never wish that pain on anyone, especially a small child. The Slytherin student let out an excruciating scream, causing Dumbledore to turn his attention immediately to the unconscious girl who appeared to be crying, yet not awake,
As they arrived in the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey noticed the potion's master carrying the small first year and setting her down, who had passed out by the time they arrived. The term had just begun and already there was an injured child in the wing. She approached the girl being set down on the bed as her eyes widened in horror upon seeing the state of her. Her hand covered her mouth as she slowly examined the state of the girl brought to her. She had never seen a child in such a state before. The matron took a closer look at every mark on her body, these weren't from a student, they came from an adult, a full grown man judging by the size of the handprints that wrapped around Harriet's throat. She saw how thin and sickly the girl was, her bones could be seen easily, indicating the girl had been starved, her skin dry as if she were severely dehydrated.
"Merlin's beard..." Poppy started as she examined the Potter child in front of her.
"What happened to her?!" she exclaimed.
Poppy knew she had to quickly get to work, this girl was in severe shape. Dumbledore would have to be informed, her injuries were severe, though not as severe as the malnutrition and deydration she suffered through. The mediwitch thought that she had seen it all, that nothing could phase her, but seeing a child in this rough of shape even shook her, it made the elderly witch sick to her stomach.
"Albus should be informed about Miss Potter's state. She may need to be sent to St. Mungo's..." the matron stated as she rushed to tend to her.
"I am well aware of Miss Potter's state, Poppy." a soft voice spoke out from behind as the elderly headmaster approached them.
"Albus, this girl is lucky to be alive! The severity of her injuries are nothing in comparison to the starvation and dehydration this child has suffered. In all my years I have never seen anything so horrific inflicted on a mere child. It was a miracle she made it here at all." Poppy replied.
The headmaster looked at the state of the first year. It had been his fault that Harriet had been placed in harm's way in the first place. The sacrificial protection on the twins required Harriet to stay with a blood relative. Eithan's wife Claire had been a very distant blood relative of the Evan's, which was the whole reason she had been placed into their care in the first place. Dumbledore had reassured the potion's master on the night of Lily's death that Harriet was safe and that no harm would befall her, he gave him his word. However, the headmaster failed to account for the cruelty of muggles.
It would anger any parent to see their child like this, to know that it could have been prevented if they would have been given the chance to raise the child they knew nothing about. Albus looked over at Harriet once more as the small first year laid in the bed while the matron tended to her. One thing was for sure, if Ethan ever got his hands on her again, she would never survive.
Harriet was still somewhat new to the world of magic, despite her own abilities. She hadn't known much about it, her foster mother, Claire Kingsley was an American witch who had been forbidden to use magic by her foster father, prime minister of muggles Ethan Kingsley. He had snapped her wand, made her submit to his will. She was forced to keep quiet about the wizarding world, especially around Harriet. The only time she was permitted to use magic was to help keep Harriet's own abilities under control and to prevent Harriet from becoming an obscurial.
While Claire was no legilimens, she knew who Harriet was immediately when she first saw her. She and her twin brother were famous after all. She tried her best to protect Harriet and give her the love and affection that she so rightly deserved. This amazing, sweet, kind, and gentle girl deserved all the love in the world, a true family, not a monster like Ethan torturing her daily.
As Harriet viewed the memory, the lightning bolt shaped scar on her forehead seared with pain, causing Hatty to cover it with her hand and cry out in pain. Viewing the Dark Lord's face brought her immense pain through her connection to him, while Snape's initial presence only brought a small amount in comparison. Harriet froze as she came out of the memory, still wincing in pain from her scar hurting. It tingled, feeling as if tiny needles were stabbing her in the forehead over and over.
Harriet's had been favoring her right arm the entire time. While it wasn't really strange, she hadn't seemed to have moved her left arm, which was her wand arm at all. She seemed to cradle it towards her chest in fact. The sleeves of her robes covered the true state of her arm, which Ethan had snapped in half like a toothpick at the train station. Claire had taken Harriet that morning and Ethan had found them. He was going to force her back. Harriet had tried her best to hide what injuries she could. She didn't want to inconvienece anyone.
It was very clear that Harriet needed medical attention and to be removed from the care of the prime minister before she ended up dead. She was more afraid of Ethan than she was of Voldemort. Voldemort had disappeared, but Ethan, Ethan was a very real threat, a current threat, one she couldn't handle, not yet. She wasn't strong enough, neither physically or mentally. Dumbledore had been the one to arrange Harriet's placement with the family, did he know what was going on? Did he know what the prime minister was doing to this poor, defenseless girl? Harriet would have been better off being raised by dementors than left with that monster.
Dumbledore couldn't have been so blind as to not know what was going on, and if he was, did he feel guilt when he saw the current state of the Potter girl? McGonagall too had a role to play, she was the one who delivered Harriet to the Kingsley's, did she feel feel guilty for her part in this? It would make any parent seethe with rage to know that their child was harmed in this way. Students weren't allowed to stay at Hogwarts during the summer break unless they had a parent that was a staff member. Sending Harriet back to the Kingsley's would be a death sentence. She could never go back there.
Harriet looked at the potion's master once more, still feeling the effects of the pain from her scar. Her body trembled, not due Voldemort, but due to how weak she truly was from her lack of nourishment. Unbeknownst to her, this man, the man who shared her same raven colored hair was one of the few family members that she had left, her only remaining parent. She was his flesh and blood, and all he had left of his connection to himself and Lily. Harriet needed him, she needed his protection, his love. He deserved love too, even if it came from Harriet. Maybe she could warm the potion master's heart, change him for the better, make him a better man? They needed each other.
Hatty tried to stand up, but her legs were like jelly. She was incredibly lightheaded and dizzy. Harriet began to lose consciousness as her legs gave out on her and smacked her head on the coffee table that housed the sandwich, which was enough to wake Hatty up from her semi-conscious state. She had no energy and needed to eat. Her broken arm and nose needed to be healed as well. Of course, Harriet wouldn't eat willingly, she would have to be reassured that there would be no consequences for doing so, that she wouldn't be harmed for breaking Ethan's rules of only eating when he gave her permission to do so.
Hatty sat there in silence for a few moments. As noble as his intentions were, she didn't believe that anyone could protect her. She thought that he would end up most likely getting hurt himself, or at least send to some sort of prison, if not killed. Her foster mother had tried to protect her, they had once escaped him, but he found them that morning. Her foster mother had pushed her and her things through the barrier to break free of his grasp so he wouldn't kill Hatty.
"Y-You can't protect me...n-no one can...m-my foster father is the prime minister..." she replied softly as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Yes, the prime minister was the one responsible for Hatty's current state, her near skeletal appearance, her weakness, her cuts and bruises. He was in a position of such power, both in the country and at home, he seemed kind towards others out in the world, but he was a cruel, vindictive man towards his wife and Harriet. He beat them mercilessly. His own wife had been a witch from America that had been forced to give up practicing magic, he had snapped her wand in half and scared her into never using magic again, and he tried to exert the same control over Harriet.
Harriet was terrified, and it showed. She believed there was no hope for her, that it was only matter of time before her foster father came for her to reclaim her, that no one could truly protect her. She believed that she was all alone in the world with no true family left to protect her, and even if she had family left that they didn't want her anyway. Dumbledore may have been a powerful wizard, so may have been the man who sat before her, but she had been so brainwashed that she didn't believe that they could protect her from harm.
Actions spoke louder than words to Harriet. The small first year knew her foster father would come to Hogwarts, and that no one would be able to protect her, not unless they saw through his ruse or witnessed him causing physical harm to Hatty. Harriet's head was throbbing from her not eating in a whiile, her hands were shaky. The girl was obviously quite weak and been starved by her caretaker. She thought she was going to faint again as she closed her eyes to stop the room from spinning. Hatty had been used to not eating by now. She knew that if she ate something and her foster father found out he would hurt her even more. She knew the rule, she was only to eat when he gave her permission to do so.
Harriet was so terrified of breaking his rules, even when he wasn't there to catch her that she had been purposely ignoring the food that the professor had summoned for her. She would lie, say that she wasn't hungry, even though it was obvious that she was slowly wasting away to nothing. It would take a long time to undo the mental and physical torture that she had to endure over the years. She should have been loved and protected these past ten years, not left to this. How could anyone do this to a mere child, especially one as sweet and kind as Harriet? Even Harry's conditions were considered paradise in comparison.
While she was a natural born legilimens, she was not as naturally skilled in occulmency. Her mind was an open book, her memories easy to view. Hatty spent most of her days locked in a hidden room in the basement with had several physical locks as well as a digital one. The nightmare she had to endure every single day would horrify anyone who merely glanced at her memories. Due to Harriet's eidetic tonal memory and hyper-observancy, her memories were highly detailed so that any legilimens could see them in perfect detail as if being there themselves.
As Harriet quietly cried to herself she internally panicked. She wondered just how long it would be before her foster father arrived and tried to take her back or even harmed her? Hours? Days? Weeks? Months? While the ministry would claim that she had to have a magical training, he could just as easily lie and say his wife would homeschool Harriet and Harriet knew it. She focused her thoughts on it obsessively as it rang out through her mind. Her breath quickened as her internal panic turned external, causing her to begin to have a panic attack. She felt like she was being suffocated, like she couldn't breathe. Her chest started to hurt and she became even dizzier.
"He's going to find me...he's going to find me..." Hatty thought as she panicked.
Cirilla knew she wasn't supposed to be doing what she was doing, but the girl was as stubborn as her mother was. She bounced up and down on the bed as she giggled jumping on it higher and higher the more moments passed. Today was her fourth birthday, Halloween night and she was excited. While she didn't expect much for presents because she knew her father couldn't afford much, she did like eating lots of sweets, especially the Halloween based ones. She just wanted to spend time with her overworked father anyway, for him to read her a bedtime story and cuddle with her before bed, as well as let her eat loads of sweets.
The higher Ciri bounced, the more excited she became until the very next jump when she fell off the bed and landed on her wrist, a loud snap could be heard, indicating that she had broken it, along with a bang as she hit her head on her bedside table. Ciri laid unconscious on the floor as a tiny bit of blood pooled at the back of her head in her beautiful red hair. Ciri looked just like Lily, she had her red hair and gorgeous green eyes, it was like Lily was alive once more, like she hadn't been killed by Voldemort protecting their child while her father was undercover as a Death Eater. Ciri adored her father more than anything in the world. He had been the one to name her, and would only calm down once he held her as a baby, something not even Lily could do. Ciri had that scar, that lightning bolt shaped scar on her forehead. She was the chosen one, the one who supposedly stopped Voldemort four years prior, and now her father was all she had left.
Harriet remembered that morning well. If her foster mother hadn't knocked out her foster father with that bat and drove off with them to take her to the train station, Hatty would have never made it to Hogwarts. She might not even been alive to tell the tale. She hoped that her foster mother was alright, that she escaped that man, he had hurt her too. That morning he had tried to kill Hatty, and her foster mother saved her life. He had always tried to beat the freak out of her, from her ever changing appearance, to her abilities to enter the minds of others with relative ease. Her foster father was a man of great importance, he was the new Prime Minister, therefore, he knew about magic, he had connection with the Ministry of Magic as part of his job.
"H-He's going to find me..." Harriet spoke, her stuttering starting to disappear the more she got to know the professor.
Tears began to stream down her cheeks as she let them fall onto her hands. It was clear that Harriet was terrified that her foster father was going to find her and finish the job from this morning, She didn't know about the school's many protections, though due to him being the Prime Minister, all he had to do was get in contact with the Ministry of Magic and he could easily find his way to the school. He could easily find Hatty and make sure she was never seen nor heard from again. Hatty was far more terrified of him than the wizard that gave her the scar on her forehead. That lightning bolt shaped scar that adorned her twin brother's forehead too. The two twins of prophecy. Telling that wizard the prophecy was a mistake, the person who told that wizard the prophecy inadvertently endagered the life of his own flesh and blood.
Harriet greatly resembled the other Potter that was shown that year, of course while they didn't know it, they were twins so it was to be expected that they would resemble each other. She woke up a few moments later after being placed into the office and a liquid placed into her mouth. Her eyes slowly fluttered open as she tried to focus around the room. It was much cooler down there than it was in the Great Hall due to it being down in the dungeons, which Hatty didn't mind, she liked being colder anyway. Harriet squinted through her glasses, noticing the same professor standing over her from before, but finally noticing his features while she did so. He wasn't the most attractive man, but Harriet had finally calmed somewhat around him. He still seemed somewhat intimidating in his stature, but she had always seen the good in people, and despite his appearance, she could see that he was kinder than he let on.
"I-I...I'm s-so s-sorry...." she quickly apologized.
She never liked to be an inconvenience to others. And now here she was, causing trouble for one of her professors on her first night here. This girl was not like other Slytherin's that was for sure. She would be bullied by her housemates quite easily. She was quite poor, not to mention a kind a gentle girl. Surely she would be fodder for other Slytherin's to bully her incessantly. If Harriet hadn't been quite ambitious when it came to her thirst for knowledge, she would have never made it into that house to begin with. She was smart as a whip and with her eidetic memory and hyper-observancy she could memorize things with ease.
Harriet fully expected someone other than Hagrid to ask about the marks on her body, at least the ones that could be seen that weren't hiding underenath her robes. When Harriet had gotten off the train, Hagrid had been furious as to the marks on her body, knowing that her foster father must have come back and been harming herself and her foster mother once more. Harriet couldn't go back there and Hagrid knew it. He told her he was going to see if Dumbledore could make other arrangements for her or do something to keep her safe as he didn't think that Hatty would survive much longer with that man in the picture.
Harriet's beautiful green eyes looked up at the professor, she had her eyes. Lily's eyes. She had her looks too, her nose, her soft skin, her lips, but Harriet's hair, it didn't belong to James, no, Harriet's hair was much darrker than the Potter's had been. Hers was pitch black, the ends were slightly greasy, though seemed to be mostly under control thanks to her hair care routine. Harriet's figure was small and incredibly slender, it was very apparent that she was rarely fed at her home, almost malnourished in actuality. The girl was not healthy looking at all, and it was clear to anyone with eyes that she had been abused and that sending her back to her foster father would be a death sentence.
Harriet looked through her broken glasses with the years old prescription that she could barely see out of. The lenses were cracked and the frames were held together by tape. It was a good thing her robes and incredibly baggy clothes hid how thin Hatty truly was and the extent of her abuse because if anyone with any interest in her actual well being had seen the state of her they might have been angry enough to hurt her foster father and end up in Azkaban.
As the professor's mind mingled with her own, it startled her a bit, but she didn't know why. She supposed that all witches and wizards could do this, that she just couldn't control it, not aware of how rare it was for someone with her gifts, being both a natural born legilimens and a metamorphmagus. Neither of these were gifts that most witches or wizards had, both of witch she needed help controlling.
"T-Thank y-you..." Hatty spoke softly to the professor as the pain passed.
Hatty began to stand up but became rather lightheaded, having not had eaten in a week since her foster father returned after Hagrid scared him off. Harriet and her foster mother had been getting on fine without him until he returned and began to hurt them again. She felt so weak. Hatty put her hand to her head, but passed out a few moments later. She was incredibly light, even for an eleven year old girl.
Harriet jumped as she heard those words, though not sure if they were only in her head or spoken out loud just now due to the hundreds of others pounding inside her own head. It spooked her, she had not expected anyone to follow her. Maybe she had done wrong? Maybe he was there to hurt her too? She looked up, wincing in pain as she touched the lightning bolt shaped scar that adorned her forehead while looking at him. It was the same scar that the other boy had, the one with the same surname as her and a similar sounding first name. The man frightened her, and she didn't know why, Hatty didn't even know him. Perhaps it was the way he presented himself? He looked intimidating after all.
The eleven year old girl was incredibly scrawny, practically skin and bones. It looked like she barely ate anything at all, like she had been only feed just barely enough to not make the social workers suspicious. She had cuts and bruises from head to toe, a black right eye, a busted lip, even her nose was broken. These cuts and bruises could be easily explained away by her foster father as her being clumsy, however, the one bruise that couldn't be so easily explained away were the two giant bruised handprints that were freshly wrapped around her throat from that morning. Hatty's muggle clothes were far too big, practically falling off of her and were falling apart at the seams. Her glasses were so old that she could barely see out of them and were held together by tape, not to mention they were far too small. Yet, even so, she could still barely make out the man's intimidating appearance. It was quite clear that Harriet Potter had not been well cared for in foster care, and that if she ever went back there was a chance she would never make it out of there alive.
Hatty took a moment to focus on the intimidating man's thoughts before slowly taking a deep breath. Eventually the voices calmed themselves and everything quieted down inside of her own mind. Soon her thoughts were her own again, she could hear the sounds of silence once more, only her own voice echoing inside her skull, blissful silence. While the man appearned frightening, he was kinder than he seemed. Yet, Hatty was a very shy girl, sweet and kind, but immensely shy and reserved. Still she had to be polite and thank him.
"T-Thank...t-thank y-you s-sir..." she spoke softly in almost a whisper.
