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Deep Roots	By : FemmeBono Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 3186 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: No I'm not making money off JK Rowling's work, this is pure (free) fanfic and I own nothing to do wif Harry Potter stuffs.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Cht. 8, Past Intruding on the Present

Through the banister railings she could see the two teens talking. She edged closer, peering through the gap as the redhead tilted her face up toward the ceiling and laughed, all full-bodied mirth and breathless gasps. The boy grimaced somewhat, as if unsure whether her laugh was at his expense.

Alyssa wanted to go to him, snuggle into his lap and pat his head. He needed comforting, she knew. She watched as his expression changed to one of reverence when the redhead began talking again, and felt a little pang at the thought that he would devote so much attention to her. She was radiant and lovely, free with her kisses, but did not return his affections and attention.

Alyssa would. She knew exactly what he needed. She would just go down and give him all her kisses, maybe nuzzle his cheek, and show him all the affection he clearly missed. She raised a chubby fist and grasped the gate beside her, shaking it and leaning her body weight against it for purchase. As she did, the flimsy clasp holding it closed at the head of the stairs snapped. With a squeal, she tipped headfirst, startling the teens below. �Aresto momentum!� she heard the boy bellow, his voice cracking, and then felt herself float downward. When she dared to open her eyes again, she looked into the upside down faces of the boy and girl peering down at her. But it was the rumbling sound of feet coming down the stairs that broke her out of her stunned breathlessness. When her mother swooped in and lifted her up, she took a deep breath, filling her lungs with air and screamed.

And woke. Gasping, she sat up in bed and looked around at her surroundings. Surely if that was a memory from earlier in her childhood, she must have led a charmed life, she mused. No sooner had she thought this, than a light rap sounded on the door before it opened silently. There, in the wand light, stood her always immaculate housemate.

�Are you quite well?� Narcissa intoned, a bit groggily, and yet somehow still sounded like the lady of the manor.

�Fine, fine. Sorry,� she replied, blinking at the harsh light. �Bad dream.�

Narcissa trained her wand away, keeping it lit. �Very well. Winky?� she queried. Then to the elf who blinked into view, �would you see to her? I�m returning to my chamber.�

Alyssa yearned to bite out a derisive, �thanks� to the woman, but the pale beauty had already stepped lightly back down the hall to her own room. Such was their existence in the old mayor�s home. Instead, Alyssa turned her attention to the shyly awaiting elf who had crept closer to the foot of the bed.

�What does Miss require?� she gulped.

�Nothing, nothing, don�t worry about it-
� she began, �-
uh, actually, I take that back. Do you know if Professor Snape is here? Severus?�

�No, Miss,� replied the elf at length, �tonight is Miss Tonks night to check on the hideaway house, Miss. Would Miss want me to get Master Snape a message?�

�Nah, I�ll talk to him either tomorrow or the next day. Whenever he checks in.�

�Yes, Miss,� replied the elf, who bobbed a curtsey and blinked out again.

Alyssa ran a hand over her face and looked at the wind-up clock on the night table. She sighed at the hour, but resigned herself that it was a lost cause trying to get more sleep tonight.

She headed to the shower, turning it on full blast and added a few stoppered bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and a wash she had made herself. The hair wash and rinse were infused with tea tree, the cleanser with cedar wood and rosemary. She stepped in and breathed a deep sigh of relaxation as the hot water sluiced over her tired tense muscles.

In the few weeks that she had been sequestered in this house, she had not had as long a conversation with Narcissa as she had tonight. It spoke volumes about their situation.

The woman and her son, Draco, had been there when Dumbledore had arrived with Alyssa and Harry in tow. At their frosty reception, Alyssa could see why Harry was being sent to the Order Headquarters. He and the son clearly did not get along.

Likewise, given the family�s ideas of what an ideal wizarding family consisted of, Alyssa could also understand why Narcissa and her son were kept away from Order Headquarters. Further, she knew full well why she was stationed here and why certain Order members kept a constant check on the state of things in the mayor�s mansion. Not only did she-
and they-
add an extra level of protection in addition to Dumbledore�s wards, but they collectively also ensured that the blonde duo did not recant their wishes to be saved by the Order's opposing faction. Should they decide to risk a return to Lord Voldemort�s side, Alyssa could Floo to Dumbledore�s office straight away, lest they take back information to the dark wizard that could prove vital in the fight.

In which case, what Alyssa had in mind for the full moon rising overhead should help. With that idea, she ran through all the different issues that had arisen in her mind. She sifted through them, pondering all the ramifications, most especially the issue of her housemates. When she arrived, Dumbledore told her of the Malfoy family and the recent events that led to their exile from pureblood �society.�

As it turned out, their patriarch had been sentenced to prison for aiding and abetting the Death Eaters in ransacking the Ministry of Magic only months ago. However, at the first wind of his master�s idea for retaliation, he had sent his wife and son off to Dumbledore with an urgent request that they be kept safe. In return, Malfoy had given what little information he had, with the promise of helping to redeem himself as soon as he was released.

Alyssa was unsure exactly how he would go about doing this, or if on the other side of the prison walls he would even be repentant. Further, as she toweled off, she reflected on the conversation between Dumbledore and Draco when she and the boy were introduced.

�You�re a Muggleborn too then?� he had said with a snide enough tone that Alyssa�s eyes narrowed.

�Of that, Mr. Malfoy, we cannot be entirely sure anymore,� Dumbledore replied, leveling a gaze at the young man before Alyssa could summon a response. With that, he turned back to Alyssa, looking somewhat pensive, as if he could not quite make up his mind about her and wanted to say as much, then just as suddenly gave a brief nod and swept to the fireplace.

�Oh, and Miss Newland,� he said as he stood on the sitting room hearth. �Should you need assistance, certainly in case of emergency, this Floo is directly connected to my office in the castle.�

From what she gleaned of that conversation, Dumbledore still did not trust the family, nor had their bigoted views change much. They were in this merely for their own benefit and to save their own skins. Well then, she reasoned, if I have to help them to help myself, so be it. With that, she dressed quickly and strode out into the back yard under the now lightening sky.

Since she had not yet eaten, she was in the perfect place to do what she had to do. Muddling through her thoughts in the shower had the fortunate result of clearing her mind for now, as did the cleansers she had used on her body. All were infused with herbs which not only cleansed the aura but warded off negativity and enhanced magic. Taking her tools out of the small satchel she wore over one shoulder, Alyssa prepared to get the proceedings underway.

She laid the empty satchel on the ground and placed the items on top. One, a turkey feather tied to a painted hoof by a leather thong, the hoof inscribed with an equal armed cross in a circle; the other, a bundle of sage; and the third, a bag of whole tobacco leaves. Standing clear in the center of the yard, she outstretched her arms and focused her mind. Feeling heat charging up from the ground and pooling in her belly, she flicked her hands out in front of her as a burst of flame erupted from the ground.

With the bonfire started and secured by a ring of stones she had already placed on the ground days before, she bent to pick up the sage bundle and feather. She tipped the sage bundle into the fire just long enough to set it smoldering. Then, holding the hoof end, she used the feather to waft the sage smoke as she worked in a large circle, just on the edge of Dumbledore�s wards. She did her work in silence, with only the sounds of the forest around her as she cleared the area�s energy of all negative charges.

She stopped and saluted with the feather at each of the four cardinal directions before returning to the center of the yard and returning the items to the satchel. She lifted a small drum laced to her belt loop and began a cadence like a heartbeat. Drumming softly, treading over the same ground she had just covered, Alyssa attuned herself to the life teeming in the nearby woods, on the grounds of the house, and into the forest and hills beyond. It was a different rhythm to the land she was used to, but she soon fell into step with the life around her.

She felt the wind on her face as a breath, the waking sun warming the land as it crested over the horizon, setting the trees aflame and casting shadows over the ground. And the ears of beings surrounding that area tipped toward her drum, hearing her call and request for protection.

When Alyssa returned again to the center of the circle, she tossed a few leaves of tobacco on the now smoldering fire, an age old appeal to the spirits. Settling herself on her knees before the smoking embers, Alyssa relaxed into a contemplative silence. After some minutes, she sensed rather than saw the presence she had waited for. She opened her eyes just enough to confirm what she knew would meet her gaze.

A gray fox stood just on the edge of the woods in the center of her field of vision. As her eyes met his, he inclined his head, then turned and trotted off into the woods. Alyssa nodded, knowing the full import of this vision. Should anyone come close to their hideaway, she would be warned. Satisfied with her work and now more than famished, Alyssa packed her tools, snuffed out the fire, and stepped quietly back into the house, not noticing as one of the curtains above closed, obscuring her housemate from view.

****

Late that night Severus Snape stood before a roaring fire in the Headmaster�s study. He waited, clasping and unclasping his hands until the old wizard returned from his inspection. As Dumbledore entered and gestured Severus to take a seat, he wondered at the man�s apparent discomfort and agitation. Years of watching the younger wizard gave him insights into the mannerisms and �tells,� and when it came to the surly potions master, Dumbledore knew that Severus always stood when he had news to impart and was likely to pace if it were something of particular importance.

True to form, no sooner was Severus seated, than he promptly sprang back up again and began pacing. Never a good sign. However, not wanting to show his hand too soon, Severus introduced the topic by discussing another one altogether.

�I trust your bed checks went as well as mine, Headmaster,� Snape said dryly.

�Both women are sound asleep, yes,� Dumbledore smiled amusedly. �Likewise the grounds are still secure. In fact, our new friend has added her own magic to the mix as it were. When I approached the house I felt any number of eyes upon my person and had I been any such unsavory character or someone unknown to the area, I�m quite sure I might have been attacked.�

Severus merely raised a brow at this. He had heard there were vast differences between their own magics and those of the natives to America, yet his education only extended to the flora of the Americas and their uses in potions. Native Americans were renowned for their animal and spirit communication abilities, however, so it stood to reason that the Newland girl would invoke their protection. It is something the Dark Lord would never consider, and as such, was a good move on her part. Before he could voice his thoughts, though, Dumbledore broached the subject he was most anxious about.

�That aside, Severus, I trust you have news of how it might be that Miss Newland and her sister both happen to be born witches in an otherwise Muggle family?� Dumbledore tipped his gaze over his glasses and waited.

�As it happens, I do,� he began. �It was a bit of simple research, if a bit time consuming. Took me most of the afternoon in fact��

Dumbledore nodded serenely, knowing that Severus had a tendency to drag these things out for effect. So he settled back in the armchair and prepared for a wait.

�What I discovered, over the course of the day, was that Grace Evans was in fact the granddaughter of a man by the name of Handford, who married a certain Winifred Smethwick.�

�Smethwick, you say?�

�Indeed.�

�Further, this Smethwick family when traced three generations back, disappears in the Muggle ancestry tomes and cannot be found.�

�In their tomes� but not in ours, I presume.�

�Quite so, as it turns out, that great great grandfather of dear Winifred turns out to be none other than Milton Smethwyk, Squib brother to Elliot and Leopoldina.�

�Elliot, inventor of the Cushioning Charm and Leopoldina, the first witch referee in Quidditch��

�The very same. And, might I add, Mister Smethwyk married himself off to another Squib, a certain Miss Marion Prewett.�

�I see. This certainly sheds new light on the theory that magical families tend to die out and magic can be diluted through marriage to a non-pureblood, does it not?�

�It would seem so, sir.�

�I wonder what some of our old families would have to say about this.�

�Likely they would simply view it as confirming their blood superiority and ignore the fact that magic will out eventually, as with any genetic predisposition.�

�Despite that, it confirms a theory I have had for quite some time.�

�And that is?�

�That magic is a dominant trait that will out, as you put it, eventually. And that the more we intermarry, the less Muggles we�ll have and the more magical families there will be. Of varying abilities of course. Before many years there may well be no question of blood status, only of the degrees of magic one can do.�

�In the eventuality of time, perhaps. It is a small island after all.�

�Severus, I believe this calls for a toast.�

�Scotch?�

�Quite so.�

�Two fingers for me then.�

****

With his head full of Dumbledore�s theories on magical and non-magical families, combined with a second glass of scotch, it was no wonder that the memories of his youth invaded his tired mind. When Severus Snape fell asleep that night, as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was inundated with dreams of afternoons spent at the Evans home and memories of baby kisses and Lily�s tinkling laughter.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Deep Roots