Orphans
SSHG authors have all sorts of inventive ways to land Severus and/or Hermione with an unexpected child. A crowd favorite is the orphan, whether they are adopting willingly or not. Get ready to have your heartstrings tugged!
Want to give Hermione a run for her money in the know-it-all field? Simply play the quiz by commenting on this post with your answers at any time over the weekend. All comments with answers will be screened until the answer sheet is posted on Monday morning EDT. On Monday, all quizzlings with the correct answers will receive a pretty banner to prove their quiz prowess. Ready? Set? Play!
Match the quotes to the story titles without picking the red herring titles:
M is for Muggle-born by inspired_ideas
Daddy Snape by Antigonesev
To Those Who Wait by sshg316
Just to Be by Amarti
The Tale of No by battle_of_lissa
Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah by MamaWeasley
Bright Morning Star by Trawler
Great Plans by larilee
Parenthood: Ready or Not by delayed_poet WIP - abandoned?
An Orphan For Christmas by bardsdaughter1 WIP
Happy Christmas by AprilGrey
A Baby at Hogwarts by healer_pomfrey
1. Snape cast the spell. "Alohomora!" Then he quickly stepped away from the door to avoid any interior jinxes or a hex cast by an occupant of the room.
One glance inside, however, settled that fear. The room was indeed occupied-by a house-elf and a small, fair-haired boy. His age, Snape would wager, was no more than five or six years. The two were settled on a rug in front of a small fireplace as they played what appeared to be a simplified game of Gobstones.
The house-elf looked up, and Snape's eyes widened in recognition. He looked again at the child.
Was it possible this was the Avery boy?
Several Aurors pushed past Snape in a rush to "rescue" the child, perhaps hoping to garner some credit. However, their attempt was thwarted as they all bounced off some sort of invisible shield before they could reach him. Elf-magic, most likely.
Snape snorted in amusement as he watched yet another of the Ministry's finest crash against the barrier. The sound caught the child's attention, and he turned to search for its source. When his gaze landed on Snape, a wide grin stretched across the small face.
"Papa?" the boy said clearly. "Papa! Papa, Papa, Papa!"
And with that, he ran across the room, the invisible barrier having no effect as he flung himself at Snape, clinging to his legs with all his little might. "Papa."
2. "You very well know I cannot adopt a child!" Severus Snape's cold voice echoed furiously in the stillness of the Minister's office, and his glare was more prominent than the Minister could remember seeing for a long time.
"Now, now, Severus, I know how much of an inconvenience this is to you, but we really can make no exceptions." There was no bite in the words, only hint of sympathy that was almost worse in his opinion.
Severus got up from his chair and walked to the window, his body stiff and tingling with frustrated anger.
"I cannot do it, Arthur. You know me, raising children was never on my list of priorities," his voice came out as a whisper.
"You have a list of the children and their profiles. You should be happy to even be getting a choice in the matter; everyone else will be assigned a child. I expect your choice to be on my desk tomorrow morning at nine sharp. If it isn't, a child will be chosen for you," Arthur's voice turned businesslike.
Turning sharply, Severus glared at the Minister, then stalked out of the office. He should have known better than expect Arthur Weasley to leave him out of the ridiculous law.
3. “He found her?” Hermione gasped.
“Hush! Lower your voice.” Minerva sent a quelling glance around the lawn to ensure they were still alone.
“Sorry. Is she Muggle?”
“Her parents were, if that is what you are asking. As for the rest, only time will tell.”
The two women strolled on, pretending ease before Hermione asked the expected.
“Did Professor Snape kill-”
“Voldemort was defeated six years ago,” Minerva interrupted monotonously.
But as Order members, both women were aware that the death of Voldemort had not destroyed the Death Eater faction. It had merely gone underground, along with an invaluable spy.
4. With all the care used with a prized Graphorn horn, he lifted the swaddled lump from Hermione's hands. Cradled against his palms, he held his breath as he pealed back the coarse, filthy burlap. A tiny squeak, not much stronger than the mewl of a newborn kitten, and a minuscule wiggle as the chilly air of the world touched a crown of dark hair still damp with the fluids of birth restarted not only the creep of time across space, but his own heart.
Another gentle tug revealed more of the tiny human. A face still squished by the passage from womb to world. The correct number of appendages from shoulders to the tips of ten petite fingers - five on each perfectly formed miniature hand. A well proportioned, if somewhat undernourished torso, suggesting a gestation of less than the standard length of forty weeks. An umbilical cord that had been appropriately severed from the placenta. Distinguishable genitalia appropriate for gender assignment. Two little legs, curled as they had been in the girl's belly with corresponding feet no longer than his index finger and the required five toes on each. All in all, an acceptable specimen, save for the worrisome grayish-blue tint visible beneath the layer of vernix caseosa and just congealing blood, and the way the lean chest seemed to collapse inward with each inhalation, revealing for a few seconds the quivering pulse of a tiny heart.
"Severus?" Tears rimmed Hermione's voice. "Is it..."
He shook his head. "She's alive, love." He glanced at the fragile newborn girl in his hands. "But she needs a bit of attention at the moment." He thrust his right hip toward his wife. "Retrieve a handkerchief from that pocket and Transfigure it into the warmest blanket you can manage."
While her fingers trembled against his thigh as she delved into his front trouser pocket, he shifted the tiny infant enough to free one of his hands. Each bit of wisdom Poppy ever imparted filled his mind and commanded his movements. Keep her warm. Clear her airway. Assess her-
5. Poppy had already heard them and came out of her office, motioning Hermione to place the baby on the first bed, before she cast a series of diagnostic spells at the boy. "He seems completely healthy and is eight months and twenty days old," she said as she pulled a tissue out of her robe pocket, pointed her wand at it and transfigured it into a light blue jump suit with small green dragons that were roaring from time to time.
"What are we going to do with him?" Hermione asked. "I mean... He must belong to someone."
Poppy let out a long sigh. "A nearly nine months old baby is not able to come to Hogwarts all by himself. Someone must have placed him in front of our entrance doors, hoping that someone would take him in," she said in a grave voice. "Let me call Minerva."
"Aww, he is so cute," Minerva cooed, gently tickling the baby's little feet. "Where is your Mummy, sweetie?" she asked the small boy, picking him up from the bed.
"Ma-Ma," the boy shouted happily, pointing to Hermione. "Dada," he added, glancing at Severus.
"Well, congratulations, Hermione and Severus," Minerva replied, chuckling.
"Minerva, this is ridiculous," Severus snarled, causing the boy to let out an anxious wail. "What are we going to do with him?"
"Well, I'm going to make an investigation with the Ministry, but as long as we can't find his parents, we will have to keep him here," Minerva said thoughtfully. "Poppy, did you by chance check if he is magical?"
"He is a wizard," Poppy confirmed gently. "His magic even seems to be quite strong."
"Well then, Hermione and Severus, since the little tyke seems to want you as his parents, I suggest that we ask the house-elves to add a nursery to your quarters, which is accessible from both your quarters. You will both be responsible for the child, at least until we find a better solution. Poppy and I will take turns looking after him while you are teaching."
6. His dreams of picking a well-mannered boy, age ten, were quickly dashed. Miss Ellington had indicated that there were only two orphans remaining to adopt; he saw only one, a grubby little boy of about seven, who scowled at him as he entered. "You won't be my daddy! You won't!" he shouted. "I'm going to stay right here until my real daddy comes! I won't let you take me away!"
Snape moved closer to take a good look at the child. He was rewarded by a hand-with extremely sharp nails-raking across his face. "Get away, I said!" the child screamed.
"Very well," Severus said calmly, taking a step back. "Where is the other one?"
The boy pointed sullenly to a cot in the corner. Unconsciously rubbing the scrapes on his cheek, Severus walked over to investigate. He had been sure that no infants would be left; they were considered the most desirable adoptees, weren't they?
The girl lying in the cot was not really an infant any more. Two or three years old, if Severus guessed correctly-though, admittedly, he'd never been around small children for extended periods of time. Her arms and legs lay limply, unresponsive to his touch. Her body scarcely moved at all, other than the faint rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Her head turned imperceptibly, and her eyes met his.
Severus leaped back in shock as he felt his mind being probed, quickly snapping his Occlumency shield up. The girl was a natural Legilimens! Despite his mind's protective barriers, he was still able to hear the probing question: Are you my new daddy?
Gently, carefully, he picked her up. "Yes," he whispered.
Outside the door, he was aware of a vaguely familiar voice speaking with the receptionist. "I was so wrapped up with the paperwork surrounding the Adoption Act that I totally forgot to adopt a child myself!" a man was saying frantically.
"Go on in, Perce. Even if the professor's already picked, there'll still be one left."
Snape, striding towards the doorway, nearly collided with Percy Weasley. "Enjoy your new son, Mr. Weasley," he smirked.
7. “We’re really, really, really sorry, miss,” the boy rasped. “My sister wanted to go in the sea and I wouldn’t let her - she can’t swim.”
“Can you swim?”
He blushed further. “No, miss, I can’t. Nobody never taught me.”
“Ever taught me,” Hermione corrected him automatically, and then treated him to a wide, easy smile. Snape muttered something under his breath and stalked back to his chair, almost throwing himself in it. “Now, you two need to be more careful in future, ok? Run along to your parents.”
The little girl’s thumb had crept into her mouth and it was then that she noticed the child was wearing white, fingerless cotton gloves. Well, grubby, formerly white, fingerless cotton gloves, and Hermione felt an uneasy lurch in the pit of her stomach. What was wrong with the child?
The girl took her thumb out of her mouth and spoke the first words Hermione had heard her utter.
“Got no parents,” she said in a tiny little voice.
Hermione’s eyebrow rose. “I’m very sorry,” she said gently, wondering if perhaps they had been killed by Death Eaters. “Who’s looking after you?”
“Mrs Filibert,” the boy said. The hectic colour had cooled from his face but now she could see something in his eyes - a guarded look. Faintly suspicious. Orphans, she thought sadly.
“And where is Mrs Filibert now?” she asked.
“She was over there,” the boy replied, waving his hand vaguely off to the left. The little girl’s thumb was back in her mouth and her eyes were huge. Merlin, they were gorgeous children. “She went in the sea for a swim. That was ages ago. She hasn’t come out yet.”
Hermione’s eyes snapped together in instant worry.
8. "Right this way," the director, Miss Glastonbury, said. Hermione nodded and followed. It was one of her first assignments since she had transferred to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She was here to perform a basic review and audit of the Ministry Home for Children. The Wizarding orphanage. Where many of the war orphans had ended up.
"Of course since so much time has passed many of our original charges after the war have since been adopted or sent to live with family," Miss Glastonbury continued in a crisp voice not unlike Minerva McGonagall's but lacking the Scottish brogue. "And many have come of age or left for Hogwarts. But there are still some who return here in the summers, and we still do have some young ones who have been here since the war ended. And that's where I will be taking you now."
They walked down a narrow, dark set of stairs toward what looked like a large basement. Or a dungeon.
"They live down here?" Hermione asked.
Miss Glastonbury nodded.
"Full time?"
Miss Glastonbury nodded again. "We tried keeping them upstairs with the other children, the ones who have lost their parents in the years since the war, the 'transitory' ones we call them because they are almost always adopted or sent to family right away. But these are our more…permanent residents. They don't remember their parents, thank God, and they have only known this place. They are scared around others. They… act out. So for their own safety and, in a way, comfort, and that of the other children, we thought it best to keep them down here. Together."
Hermione was too horrified to scribble this down on her clipboard. Not that she would need notes to remember it.
9. The girl opened her eyes and glanced around fearfully. Albus spoke to her quietly and told her she was safe now.
“Dreamless Sleep potion, Hermione,” Severus commanded, holding out his hand without looking at her. Hermione placed the vial in his open hand wordlessly and watched as he coaxed the young girl to drink it.
“M-my m-mother,” she begged him, her hands clutching at his wrists.
In a tone that was unrecognizable as that of the Potions professor who terrorized his students, Severus softly told her that they were being looked after and she needed to drink this medicine. Hermione was not surprised to see the girl obey. As soon as she began drifting to sleep, Severus eased her back on pillows and drew the blankets around her. Quickly, he moved over to the Collins girl and asked after her.
“She’s breathing but still unconscious,” Poppy answered him. “I think it’s because of her head injury, but I won’t be able to tell until that has had a chance to heal.”
“You have saved two of them, Severus,” Albus said gently.
“And I left more to die,” Severus ground out as he closed his potions case and re-warded it before returning it to his pocket.
“You cannot save everyone, Severus,” Albus reminded him. “Because of you, these two girls will live.”
Severus turned to the sleeping forms and sneered, “Will either of them be thankful in the morning when they wake and find themselves orphaned? Will they be grateful I left others of their family there to suffer and die? Or will they curse me and say they would rather be dead?”
“Once they realize what you’ve done,” Hermione interjected firmly, “they will be grateful.”
“So you say, so you say,” Severus remarked, deriding her opinion. “It has been my experience that people are rarely appreciative that you have allowed their family to die.” He turned and stalked out of the infirmary, his black cloak billowing behind him.
10. The return of Rose with an enormous slice of chocolate cake stopped him from inquiring further into Miss Granger's choice of employment. He would find a way to worm that story out of his deputy at supper. Minerva McGonagall was always willing to chat about the accomplishments of her former students. For now, he returned his attention to the little girl.
"Miss Parkinson, I am curious how you became friends with Miss Granger." During lunch, he'd learnt that the girl loved to chatter about all of the war heroes she had met, courtesy of Miss Granger, Severus supposed.
"Miss Hermione is my wish! I wished for her and now she's my greatest friend," Rose beamed a smile of chocolaty teeth and gaps at Hermione.
"The Children's Wish Foundation matched us. Rose's teacher had read to them about the war from one of the children's books on the subject. When the foundation decided to grant each of the children at the orphanage a wish, Rose asked to meet me." That had been two years before. Hermione had taken it upon herself to befriend the little girl following their first meeting.
"I'm going to be just like Miss Hermione when I grow up."
"There are far worse role models. I applaud your choice, Miss Parkinson," Severus said with a small bow of his head. He noted how the small blush of color his words put high on Miss Granger's cheeks became her.
Want to give Hermione a run for her money in the know-it-all field? Simply play the quiz by commenting on this post with your answers at any time over the weekend. All comments with answers will be screened until the answer sheet is posted on Monday morning EDT. On Monday, all quizzlings with the correct answers will receive a pretty banner to prove their quiz prowess. Ready? Set? Play!
Match the quotes to the story titles without picking the red herring titles:
M is for Muggle-born by inspired_ideas
Daddy Snape by Antigonesev
To Those Who Wait by sshg316
Just to Be by Amarti
The Tale of No by battle_of_lissa
Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah by MamaWeasley
Bright Morning Star by Trawler
Great Plans by larilee
Parenthood: Ready or Not by delayed_poet WIP - abandoned?
An Orphan For Christmas by bardsdaughter1 WIP
Happy Christmas by AprilGrey
A Baby at Hogwarts by healer_pomfrey
1. Snape cast the spell. "Alohomora!" Then he quickly stepped away from the door to avoid any interior jinxes or a hex cast by an occupant of the room.
One glance inside, however, settled that fear. The room was indeed occupied-by a house-elf and a small, fair-haired boy. His age, Snape would wager, was no more than five or six years. The two were settled on a rug in front of a small fireplace as they played what appeared to be a simplified game of Gobstones.
The house-elf looked up, and Snape's eyes widened in recognition. He looked again at the child.
Was it possible this was the Avery boy?
Several Aurors pushed past Snape in a rush to "rescue" the child, perhaps hoping to garner some credit. However, their attempt was thwarted as they all bounced off some sort of invisible shield before they could reach him. Elf-magic, most likely.
Snape snorted in amusement as he watched yet another of the Ministry's finest crash against the barrier. The sound caught the child's attention, and he turned to search for its source. When his gaze landed on Snape, a wide grin stretched across the small face.
"Papa?" the boy said clearly. "Papa! Papa, Papa, Papa!"
And with that, he ran across the room, the invisible barrier having no effect as he flung himself at Snape, clinging to his legs with all his little might. "Papa."
2. "You very well know I cannot adopt a child!" Severus Snape's cold voice echoed furiously in the stillness of the Minister's office, and his glare was more prominent than the Minister could remember seeing for a long time.
"Now, now, Severus, I know how much of an inconvenience this is to you, but we really can make no exceptions." There was no bite in the words, only hint of sympathy that was almost worse in his opinion.
Severus got up from his chair and walked to the window, his body stiff and tingling with frustrated anger.
"I cannot do it, Arthur. You know me, raising children was never on my list of priorities," his voice came out as a whisper.
"You have a list of the children and their profiles. You should be happy to even be getting a choice in the matter; everyone else will be assigned a child. I expect your choice to be on my desk tomorrow morning at nine sharp. If it isn't, a child will be chosen for you," Arthur's voice turned businesslike.
Turning sharply, Severus glared at the Minister, then stalked out of the office. He should have known better than expect Arthur Weasley to leave him out of the ridiculous law.
3. “He found her?” Hermione gasped.
“Hush! Lower your voice.” Minerva sent a quelling glance around the lawn to ensure they were still alone.
“Sorry. Is she Muggle?”
“Her parents were, if that is what you are asking. As for the rest, only time will tell.”
The two women strolled on, pretending ease before Hermione asked the expected.
“Did Professor Snape kill-”
“Voldemort was defeated six years ago,” Minerva interrupted monotonously.
But as Order members, both women were aware that the death of Voldemort had not destroyed the Death Eater faction. It had merely gone underground, along with an invaluable spy.
4. With all the care used with a prized Graphorn horn, he lifted the swaddled lump from Hermione's hands. Cradled against his palms, he held his breath as he pealed back the coarse, filthy burlap. A tiny squeak, not much stronger than the mewl of a newborn kitten, and a minuscule wiggle as the chilly air of the world touched a crown of dark hair still damp with the fluids of birth restarted not only the creep of time across space, but his own heart.
Another gentle tug revealed more of the tiny human. A face still squished by the passage from womb to world. The correct number of appendages from shoulders to the tips of ten petite fingers - five on each perfectly formed miniature hand. A well proportioned, if somewhat undernourished torso, suggesting a gestation of less than the standard length of forty weeks. An umbilical cord that had been appropriately severed from the placenta. Distinguishable genitalia appropriate for gender assignment. Two little legs, curled as they had been in the girl's belly with corresponding feet no longer than his index finger and the required five toes on each. All in all, an acceptable specimen, save for the worrisome grayish-blue tint visible beneath the layer of vernix caseosa and just congealing blood, and the way the lean chest seemed to collapse inward with each inhalation, revealing for a few seconds the quivering pulse of a tiny heart.
"Severus?" Tears rimmed Hermione's voice. "Is it..."
He shook his head. "She's alive, love." He glanced at the fragile newborn girl in his hands. "But she needs a bit of attention at the moment." He thrust his right hip toward his wife. "Retrieve a handkerchief from that pocket and Transfigure it into the warmest blanket you can manage."
While her fingers trembled against his thigh as she delved into his front trouser pocket, he shifted the tiny infant enough to free one of his hands. Each bit of wisdom Poppy ever imparted filled his mind and commanded his movements. Keep her warm. Clear her airway. Assess her-
5. Poppy had already heard them and came out of her office, motioning Hermione to place the baby on the first bed, before she cast a series of diagnostic spells at the boy. "He seems completely healthy and is eight months and twenty days old," she said as she pulled a tissue out of her robe pocket, pointed her wand at it and transfigured it into a light blue jump suit with small green dragons that were roaring from time to time.
"What are we going to do with him?" Hermione asked. "I mean... He must belong to someone."
Poppy let out a long sigh. "A nearly nine months old baby is not able to come to Hogwarts all by himself. Someone must have placed him in front of our entrance doors, hoping that someone would take him in," she said in a grave voice. "Let me call Minerva."
"Aww, he is so cute," Minerva cooed, gently tickling the baby's little feet. "Where is your Mummy, sweetie?" she asked the small boy, picking him up from the bed.
"Ma-Ma," the boy shouted happily, pointing to Hermione. "Dada," he added, glancing at Severus.
"Well, congratulations, Hermione and Severus," Minerva replied, chuckling.
"Minerva, this is ridiculous," Severus snarled, causing the boy to let out an anxious wail. "What are we going to do with him?"
"Well, I'm going to make an investigation with the Ministry, but as long as we can't find his parents, we will have to keep him here," Minerva said thoughtfully. "Poppy, did you by chance check if he is magical?"
"He is a wizard," Poppy confirmed gently. "His magic even seems to be quite strong."
"Well then, Hermione and Severus, since the little tyke seems to want you as his parents, I suggest that we ask the house-elves to add a nursery to your quarters, which is accessible from both your quarters. You will both be responsible for the child, at least until we find a better solution. Poppy and I will take turns looking after him while you are teaching."
6. His dreams of picking a well-mannered boy, age ten, were quickly dashed. Miss Ellington had indicated that there were only two orphans remaining to adopt; he saw only one, a grubby little boy of about seven, who scowled at him as he entered. "You won't be my daddy! You won't!" he shouted. "I'm going to stay right here until my real daddy comes! I won't let you take me away!"
Snape moved closer to take a good look at the child. He was rewarded by a hand-with extremely sharp nails-raking across his face. "Get away, I said!" the child screamed.
"Very well," Severus said calmly, taking a step back. "Where is the other one?"
The boy pointed sullenly to a cot in the corner. Unconsciously rubbing the scrapes on his cheek, Severus walked over to investigate. He had been sure that no infants would be left; they were considered the most desirable adoptees, weren't they?
The girl lying in the cot was not really an infant any more. Two or three years old, if Severus guessed correctly-though, admittedly, he'd never been around small children for extended periods of time. Her arms and legs lay limply, unresponsive to his touch. Her body scarcely moved at all, other than the faint rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Her head turned imperceptibly, and her eyes met his.
Severus leaped back in shock as he felt his mind being probed, quickly snapping his Occlumency shield up. The girl was a natural Legilimens! Despite his mind's protective barriers, he was still able to hear the probing question: Are you my new daddy?
Gently, carefully, he picked her up. "Yes," he whispered.
Outside the door, he was aware of a vaguely familiar voice speaking with the receptionist. "I was so wrapped up with the paperwork surrounding the Adoption Act that I totally forgot to adopt a child myself!" a man was saying frantically.
"Go on in, Perce. Even if the professor's already picked, there'll still be one left."
Snape, striding towards the doorway, nearly collided with Percy Weasley. "Enjoy your new son, Mr. Weasley," he smirked.
7. “We’re really, really, really sorry, miss,” the boy rasped. “My sister wanted to go in the sea and I wouldn’t let her - she can’t swim.”
“Can you swim?”
He blushed further. “No, miss, I can’t. Nobody never taught me.”
“Ever taught me,” Hermione corrected him automatically, and then treated him to a wide, easy smile. Snape muttered something under his breath and stalked back to his chair, almost throwing himself in it. “Now, you two need to be more careful in future, ok? Run along to your parents.”
The little girl’s thumb had crept into her mouth and it was then that she noticed the child was wearing white, fingerless cotton gloves. Well, grubby, formerly white, fingerless cotton gloves, and Hermione felt an uneasy lurch in the pit of her stomach. What was wrong with the child?
The girl took her thumb out of her mouth and spoke the first words Hermione had heard her utter.
“Got no parents,” she said in a tiny little voice.
Hermione’s eyebrow rose. “I’m very sorry,” she said gently, wondering if perhaps they had been killed by Death Eaters. “Who’s looking after you?”
“Mrs Filibert,” the boy said. The hectic colour had cooled from his face but now she could see something in his eyes - a guarded look. Faintly suspicious. Orphans, she thought sadly.
“And where is Mrs Filibert now?” she asked.
“She was over there,” the boy replied, waving his hand vaguely off to the left. The little girl’s thumb was back in her mouth and her eyes were huge. Merlin, they were gorgeous children. “She went in the sea for a swim. That was ages ago. She hasn’t come out yet.”
Hermione’s eyes snapped together in instant worry.
8. "Right this way," the director, Miss Glastonbury, said. Hermione nodded and followed. It was one of her first assignments since she had transferred to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She was here to perform a basic review and audit of the Ministry Home for Children. The Wizarding orphanage. Where many of the war orphans had ended up.
"Of course since so much time has passed many of our original charges after the war have since been adopted or sent to live with family," Miss Glastonbury continued in a crisp voice not unlike Minerva McGonagall's but lacking the Scottish brogue. "And many have come of age or left for Hogwarts. But there are still some who return here in the summers, and we still do have some young ones who have been here since the war ended. And that's where I will be taking you now."
They walked down a narrow, dark set of stairs toward what looked like a large basement. Or a dungeon.
"They live down here?" Hermione asked.
Miss Glastonbury nodded.
"Full time?"
Miss Glastonbury nodded again. "We tried keeping them upstairs with the other children, the ones who have lost their parents in the years since the war, the 'transitory' ones we call them because they are almost always adopted or sent to family right away. But these are our more…permanent residents. They don't remember their parents, thank God, and they have only known this place. They are scared around others. They… act out. So for their own safety and, in a way, comfort, and that of the other children, we thought it best to keep them down here. Together."
Hermione was too horrified to scribble this down on her clipboard. Not that she would need notes to remember it.
9. The girl opened her eyes and glanced around fearfully. Albus spoke to her quietly and told her she was safe now.
“Dreamless Sleep potion, Hermione,” Severus commanded, holding out his hand without looking at her. Hermione placed the vial in his open hand wordlessly and watched as he coaxed the young girl to drink it.
“M-my m-mother,” she begged him, her hands clutching at his wrists.
In a tone that was unrecognizable as that of the Potions professor who terrorized his students, Severus softly told her that they were being looked after and she needed to drink this medicine. Hermione was not surprised to see the girl obey. As soon as she began drifting to sleep, Severus eased her back on pillows and drew the blankets around her. Quickly, he moved over to the Collins girl and asked after her.
“She’s breathing but still unconscious,” Poppy answered him. “I think it’s because of her head injury, but I won’t be able to tell until that has had a chance to heal.”
“You have saved two of them, Severus,” Albus said gently.
“And I left more to die,” Severus ground out as he closed his potions case and re-warded it before returning it to his pocket.
“You cannot save everyone, Severus,” Albus reminded him. “Because of you, these two girls will live.”
Severus turned to the sleeping forms and sneered, “Will either of them be thankful in the morning when they wake and find themselves orphaned? Will they be grateful I left others of their family there to suffer and die? Or will they curse me and say they would rather be dead?”
“Once they realize what you’ve done,” Hermione interjected firmly, “they will be grateful.”
“So you say, so you say,” Severus remarked, deriding her opinion. “It has been my experience that people are rarely appreciative that you have allowed their family to die.” He turned and stalked out of the infirmary, his black cloak billowing behind him.
10. The return of Rose with an enormous slice of chocolate cake stopped him from inquiring further into Miss Granger's choice of employment. He would find a way to worm that story out of his deputy at supper. Minerva McGonagall was always willing to chat about the accomplishments of her former students. For now, he returned his attention to the little girl.
"Miss Parkinson, I am curious how you became friends with Miss Granger." During lunch, he'd learnt that the girl loved to chatter about all of the war heroes she had met, courtesy of Miss Granger, Severus supposed.
"Miss Hermione is my wish! I wished for her and now she's my greatest friend," Rose beamed a smile of chocolaty teeth and gaps at Hermione.
"The Children's Wish Foundation matched us. Rose's teacher had read to them about the war from one of the children's books on the subject. When the foundation decided to grant each of the children at the orphanage a wish, Rose asked to meet me." That had been two years before. Hermione had taken it upon herself to befriend the little girl following their first meeting.
"I'm going to be just like Miss Hermione when I grow up."
"There are far worse role models. I applaud your choice, Miss Parkinson," Severus said with a small bow of his head. He noted how the small blush of color his words put high on Miss Granger's cheeks became her.