Dark Shadows

Plot, new characters, new magical terms and abilities etc. are my intellectual property. If you want to borrow then please kindly ask. JK Rowling's characters and Wizarding Universe are all uniquely hers.

Authors Notes: I am doing my own thing and am drawing on my own Nanticoke/Lenni-Lenape Native American heritage for this story for inspirational purposes, but am taking a number of liberties here. Some of the dialogue of the Native Americans in this story comes from famous quotes found through many sites on the web as well as my own recollections from various readings.

Alternate Universe, Fantasy, Drama, Angst. Summary: After the fall of Voldemort many secrets are revealed amidst new beginnings. But nothing is ever as simple as it would seem even for a Native American in the Wizarding World reconnecting with her long-lost father. Harry Potter once again is The Chosen One and there is a lot more to loose. SS-RL-HP-OC

Dark Shadows

by NativeMoon

Chapter 3: Harmonic Convergence

The next time the irascible Potions Master saw his young colleague was at breakfast the next morning in a small dining room down from the Great Hall. Though it was not required, most of the staff present so early before term started tended to take this one meal together. He had not seen her at lunch the day before nor had she come to dinner. He supposed that her illness left her more debilitated than she had let on.

As always he wore a look of uncompromising disinterest but kept his ears open. Most of the talk so far centred around her. The Sachem was a mystery to them having not spent much time in their presence since her arrival. She hadn’t even so much as had a meal with them. Her manner was a strange as her clothes and it did not go down well with some of them who were vehemently opposed to the presence of a Muggle in their midst and in a position which she could not possibly be well-suited for.

June strolled in after everyone else had been seated and the animated chatter ground to a halt. There were two seats left; one with the cluster of colleagues all conveniently seated near the door and one with Snape at the far end of the rather long table. Their colleagues tended to give him a wide berth and summer break was no exception.

Without asking if he minded, she sat down across from Professor Snape and folded her serviette on her lap. She tapped her plate three times and bowl of pink grapefruit appeared along with hot porridge, granola, honey, semi-skimmed milk, green tea and bottled spring water.

Snape quirked an eyebrow. Considering June had not graced any mealtime thus far with her formidable presence, he could only wonder how she had managed such a miraculous feat. Everyone else was making due with the usual platters of sausages, bacon, kippers, fried tomatoes, fried bread, fried eggs, baked beans, coffee, English Breakfast Tea and Orange Juice. A typical English Fry-Up even with the smoldering temperatures outside.

‘This is not a restaurant! Custom meals are not done here!’ sniffed Huntington Harmsworth-Quays, the Muggle Studies professor who clearly thought he was more important than he was. He had an expression that could sour milk as he shouted down the table. ‘What’s good enough for one is good enough for all!!’

‘Then you are well within your rights to have what I am having since you are obviously displeased with what has been available to you,’ June said sweetly as she prepared her porridge with milk and honey.

The Potions Master was very taken aback to say the very least, though it did not show on his countenance. Of those present, Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout snorted at the young woman’s forthrightness. Sinistra and Madam Pince giggled and Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand over her mouth. The Muggle-Studies Professor tended to be quite full of himself, not unlike their former colleague Gilderoy Lockhart, who had been DADA Professor some years ago. June had gone up in their estimation in putting their latest fraud squarely in his place.

Harmsworth-Quays pushed back his chair and stalked out of the room.

‘You on one o’ them Muggle diets or summat?’ boomed Hagrid, Groundskeeper, Keeper of Keys and the Care of Magical Creatures professor after a moment of silence.

Her choice of food seemed peculiarly unappetising to him.

‘Magic is but one aspect of the realm of the spirits,’ replied the Sachem. ‘Walking with the spirits effectively requires strength and power in order to gain their respect and blessing. You must have a strong body as much as a strong mind for them to know you. The potency of magical practices is highly dependent on proper nourishment of the mind, body and soul which in turns feeds the spirit and the same is true in reverse.’

‘That what your people believe then?’

Sounded like a load of codswallop to him.

And June knew exactly that it was what most of them thought.

‘That is what we know kind sir...’

She tucked into her porridge after pulling out a book. Most of her colleagues looked around at each other and then looked down at their plates piled high with greasy food. Snape caught a look at the book she was reading.

‘Defensive Magical Theory and Practical Applications?’ he sneered quietly so that only she could hear. ‘I would have thought one so expert was well above the tomes of our world...’

‘Background research on what my students will have been taught. No doubt I will have my work cut out correcting years of misinformation and prejudice,’ June replied in a rather tight voice as she frowned at whatever it was she was reading. ‘No wonder your people end up on the wrong side of a wand so often…’

She continued to read and let out a sigh that was more an angry hiss.

‘Fucking bullshit!’ she wore quietly under her breath as she put the book down and slammed it shut.

This was quite a revelation for Professor Snape. He focused his attention to the greasy food on his plate. Suddenly it did not seem so appetising. He actually agreed with her on her assessment of what purported to be one of the most factual and respected DADA texts sanctioned by the Ministry of Magic, but it was not for her to know that. The fact that she was so astute particularly for one not of their world was very annoying. Annoying and most unnerving indeed.

He wondered fleetingly what she could possibly know about any wizard or witch ending up on the ‘wrong side of a wand’. Despite her so-called expertise she was still a Muggle. Snape was no fool however; he would not presume that he had all the answers or even knew what he needed to know about her. None of them did, save the Headmaster.

For Dumbledore to have chosen the Sachem there had to be a very interesting story and compelling reason.

And Snape, more than anyone, was determined to find out that reason.

xxxOOOxxx

After probing Professor Snape gently about Potions for a time, June excused herself to run after Professor Sprout who had to rush off to the schools greenhouses. He hadn’t been quite as forthcoming as probably should have, considering how much he really was eager to pick her decidedly impressive brain. He had finally met his match in some ways, and this was most unnerving – but intriguing just the same.

Snape, never one to resist sticking his rather large nose where it didn’t belong, opened up the book to where his young colleague had placed a bookmark.

‘Werewolves: A Menace to Wizarding Society’

He casually placed the book back as he’d found it and mulled over what he knew of the text, which was pretty much everything. The Potions Master was blessed with a photographic memory. Every book, article and even the most pitiful of student essays he’d ever read he remembered even to the most innocuous of details. It was a testament to his love of the written word and his decidedly superior intellect. Something he had in common with June thought neither was aware of it as yet.

But aware of it both would definitely be, that and much more, and sooner rather than later.

Her display of temper at what she was reading was most curious indeed.

Why would someone like her find the chapter on the mating practices of werewolves so upsetting?

…xXxXxXx…

Snape was in Greenhouse Three collecting fresh Mandrake root and stinksap for his private stores when June came in to talk to Professor Sprout two days later. Though she could not see him he had a clear view of her. As always discretion had its uses. Particularly when Professor Sprout was completely oblivious to the fact that he was actually there.

As usual.

‘Ahh just who I was hoping to see,’ said Professor Sprout cheerfully.

June smiled.

She quite liked the Herbology professor. Herbalism was very important in Native American traditions so they had something in common straight away. They had already had a couple of chats and the kindly old portly witch had volunteered to help her with anything she needed.

‘You’re all set, Greenhouse Nine is all yours. Here are your keys,’ said Sprout eagerly as she handed June a big silver ring with several brass and pewter keys. She was hoping she could learn quite a lot from the Sachem and had nothing but the greatest respect for her knowledge. She had heard quite a bit about herbal lore in Native spirituality from Dumbledore.

Snape looked up sharply from the pot he was tending and was soundly bitten having diverted his attention from the task at hand. He shook the offending Mandrake off and let it have its usual tantrum. He was not so privileged as to have a Greenhouse of his own although he could have more than justified it for Advanced Potions and his own personal projects. A darker look than usual crept across his face. The young woman hadn’t even been here a week and already she was granted privileges he had yet to realise even with over 18 years of teaching at the school and risking his life for the Headmaster’s Order of the Phoenix in the last war.

‘Thank you very much for your help, Professor,’ June said quietly. ‘That was very kind of you.’

No one else save the Headmaster and McGonagall was going out of their way to help her.

‘Oh it was no trouble at all!! I’m setting up for the new term and a new Greenhouse is always a treat, especially that one – the largest in the history of the school! Reminds me of the Eden Project in Cornwall. What you Muggles can do when you set your minds to it is extraordinary!’

Professor Sprout looked so eager there was no mistaking her desire to see what June would do with such a treasure as a Greenhouse all her own that spread across several acres no less. It would be devoted solely to the herbs and wildlife of her tribal territory as well as several others that she had worked extensively with.

‘Would you like a tour when I am finished organising it? I’m sure you will find that our resources and knowledge are complementary. There is a lot we could do together and learn from each other…’

‘That would be spendid, very splendid indeed!’

The dumpy old witch was positively beaming at the thought as she impulsively clapped her hands together with glee.

‘Ok, I need to get started then,’ said June as she turned to leave. ‘So much to do and so little time…’

She turned the old fashioned door knob.

‘That proposal includes you too, Professor Snape,’ she said as she opened the door and stepped across the threshold.

There was the sound of a crash and muttered curses near the Mandrakes. Snape had just been bitten yet again, but this time in a rather private place because he’d stepped too close to an imposing mandrake which didn’t like being manhandled.

The Sachem left without so much as a backward glance to witness the incredulous looks on Sprout’s face as well as the Potions Master’s and the ensuing argument between the two.

xxxOOOxxx

‘She…she…is at Hogwarts?!!’ Lupin asked incredulously through his tears. ‘After all these years – she is finally here?’

He had never been able to believe in his heart that June would one day return to him. He could never believe that one day he could embrace being a father again to his beloved daughter.

Professor Dumbledore nodded solemnly in the affirmative.

His old friend sniffed and blew his nose on a handkerchief. It was one of the few things he still had of his daughter’s gifts to him on the less than a handful of Father’s Day he had been in her life. Truth be told, it was his late partner’s gift in the name of his daughter. But he still loved them just the same.

June hadn’t yet been born when he received the box of elegantly monogrammed handkerchiefs. That was how he found out he was to be a father. June’s mother couldn’t find the words to tell him that despite what he had been brainwashed to believe in his world, he could in fact sire a child and he had definitely managed it. He had found out on Father’s Day that he was indeed going to be a father.

‘How is she, Albus? How is my baby?’

‘You can be very proud, Remus. She is a credit to you and Jacinda. But she most definitely is your daughter. Gentle and kind, but very wise and strong. She is a credit to her people and to the path she walks. She has a lot of trouble remembering her mother, but she has never forgotten you. Most importantly, June does not place blame with anyone for what happened all those years ago. She is a wise woman to her core; and one who dearly loves her father, more than anyone has ever understood. Her love for you and attachment to you has never died. Her loyalty to you has never wavered. There is a lot of emptiness there, Remus. And part of that emptiness only you can fill…’

The werewolf broke down and sobbed gut-wrenching, heart-breaking tears in the Headmaster’s office.

‘Come,’ Dumbledore said softly as he placed a hand on his old friend’s shoulder.

For only the briefest of moments, Lupin looked positively frightened. This was a shock to The Greatest Wizard of the Age, for Lupin had been one of the few who had been absolutely fearless in facing Lord Voldemort in both wars. Along with Snape and the Headmaster, the werewolf was one of the blessed few to still be alive and able to tell the tale.

Completely unlike June’s mother.

The Headmaster stood by one of the large windows in his office and gestured out of it.

Remus took a deep breath and moved forward. It seemed to take an age but finally he reached the window.

‘Look, Remus,’ said Dumbledore gently. ‘Look at your daughter…she is her father’s daughter. Very much so indeed…’

Remus stood back so that he was not directly in the window.

There below was June resplendent in her Nanticoke garments having a word with Firenze, the centaur who taught Divination. She must have quite a sense of humour he thought to himself, because the centaur laughed quite heartily – something that Firenze’s kind usually did not do. It was generally thought by his kind that frivolity was the domain of humans and therefore beneath them.

‘Hogwarts has not been quite the same since her arrival,’ Dumbledore said thoughtfully. ‘Nor have some of its inhabitants…’

As if on cue, Professor Snape emerged from the direction of what Remus knew to be the ancient graveyard on the far side of the school. Few people ever went there, but for some reason he supposed he shouldn’t be so surprised. The idea of Snape inhabiting a cemetery seemed more than appropriate.

The centaur made what seemed to be a gracious exit to the more than obvious disappointment of his daughter. June now turned her attention to the dark man coming closer. She did not move a muscle; she just stood quietly and waited for him to come to her, as she knew he would.

Snape approached and they had what appeared to be at least a somewhat civil word between them. The Potions Master gestured in the direction of Slytherin House and June proceeded to walk beside him, matching the stride of his long legs with her own. Snape didn’t seem to be too keen on this.

Then again, he had never been one to appear keen about anything…or anyone. He prided himself on being firmly in control of his emotions, but was not above losing his cool and in the most spectacular fashion from time to time, as he did when Sirius Black managed to get away from right under his nose right after his escape from Azkaban before the start of the last war. Harry, Ron and Hermione had laughed so hard their sides ached as they told him about Snape losing his rag in the school’s infirmary in front of the Minister of Magic at the time, Cornelius Fudge.

His daughter’s seeming camaraderie with one of the most despised figures in the wizarding world was a surprise to June’s father. Snape had really always been a loner even when they were at Hogwarts together. Sirius always insisted that Snape was friends with students who all became servants of Voldemort – but nothing was further from the truth.

However one thing seemed obvious: there was some sort of understanding between them.

‘If he does anything to hurt her I swear I will…’

‘Severus will never do anything to hurt her, Remus. Quite the opposite,’ replied her Godfather with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

The young Sachem was not yet aware of either fact.

Or of the very peculiar destiny she had which had everything to do with the Potions Master.

And a certain Boy Who Lived.

xxxOOOxxx

‘Bloody Hell!’ 21 year-old Harry Potter swore under his breath as he fought his way through students registering for upper-level courses at the University of Avalon on that same day. The Auror programme was no longer administered at the Ministry of Magic in London. The Wizengamot, of which Dumbledore was Chief Warlock, had decided in the days following the last war that the training of Dark Wizard Law Enforcement and Tracking should be returned to the domain from which it originally came. It was even more competitive to get accepted into the programme and even more challenging to advance towards Graduation. No less because of the Aurors that had been picked off left, right and centre in the last war.

Nymphadora Tonks was cited as an example. She’d failed Stealth time and time again, only to be passed because some fool took pity on her at having to do two extra years for the sake of passing one course. Tonks couldn’t even take a few steps without falling over or into something. And it had cost her her life in the last war. She’d loudly announced hers and Hermione Grangers’ existence in the presence of the Dark Lord when he wasn’t supposed to be aware of either of them. Even the powerful Disillusionment Charm they were both under hadn’t been enough to save them.

But at least Hermione was alive – even if she was a permanent resident of the most feared Psych Ward at St. Mungos, the wizarding hospital in London. She was strapped down 24 hours a day, 7 days a week on the ward for the Criminally Insane. So far there had been nothing that could cure her of the rabid dementia that had taken hold. It had killed him to go see her – she looked 72 rather 22. Before her restraining order was handed down he used to see her as often as he dared. After a time he just couldn’t bare her physical attacks on him anymore and had to stop going.

Harry pushed those fleeting dark memories where he couldn’t feel them and returned his attention to the matter at hand. Most of those in the registration hall were wasters who probably wouldn’t last the term anyway. They hadn’t so much as cracked open the thick book listing the courses and days and times of each section offered. It was obvious as they stood in front of harried registrars who were more than eager to see this first day of Registration Week come to an end. They hemmed and hawed and changed their mind in search of the perfect schedule that would allow them more time for a social life than they had a right to expect.

He found the queue for those with the last names beginning with ‘M, N,O,P’ and stood in line. There were 20 people in front of him. After what was an age of too many arseholes wasting too much time, he at last was able to hand over a now wrinkled piece of paper with the course numbers of the classes he wanted. When two of the three were already closed the alternates were right there.

The registrar sighed in relief.

‘If only it was always this easy…’ she muttered under her breath.

In less than five minutes Harry had his new timetable.

He couldn’t get out of there quickly enough. The Boy Who Lived wanted to make the most of what time he had left before classes were underway in a week or so. He strolled to the jetty located down the steep hill from the Administration Building which housed the Registrar’s Office.

Being a magical place, Avalon was free of Muggle transport. And being an island of canals, lakes and rivers, the easiest and most logical way to get around was by water. It was not possible to Apparate or Disapparate on, off or even around the island. Instead, one had to know precisely where to go in Somerset and most importantly, how to summon the barge that would take you across so long as the Lady of the Lake had approved it

Avalon was not a place teeming with people. The measures enacted hundreds of years ago to protect it had served their purpose well. It was still tranquil and undeniably beautiful with its exotic flora and fauna. There were people who wasted their lives away desperate to set foot on it at least once and would never have the opportunity. In the world of Muggles it was still steeped in legend and myth. The factual realities were not so different from some of the classic literature he’d read growing up. Muggles were closer to the truth than they dared accept.

Harry always enjoyed traversing the waterways of the island. It was a 20-minute canal ride to his flat and he savoured the scenery even when it rained. Today was particularly sunny and warm, the perfect day in many respects. Goddess knew he hadn’t had very many of those in his troubled life. He found himself thinking back to his school days. He’d been so arrogant back then, thinking that he knew it all – that he had all the answers. No one could tell him anything at one point and it hadn’t gotten any better, not even when it desperately needed to. Too many good people had lost their lives because of him.

But in one respect he definitely had not changed.

He still hated Severus Snape with a passion and that would never change as far as he was concerned. Harry blamed his sworn enemy for many transgressions both real and imagined. He still refused to see the truth of how the Potions Master had battled to save his life time and time again. He had also tried desperately to save his Godfather’s life – according to the Headmaster. Dumbledore was someone else who had also managed to disappoint him. And those disappointments in particular were very bitter pills to swallow even now. Despite what Harry told himself, he still harboured too many grudges considering all that had come to pass in the years since Voldemort’s fall.

He had a lot more in common with Snape than he would ever admit.

As his mind flew through a mixed bag of memories it settled on one person in particular; the only living connection to his late parents and Godfather, Remus J. Lupin. It had been quite a while since he saw the man who had tried so many times to guide him, help him and to make him see things differently.

Suddenly the barge Harry was on stopped. He jumped off the craft and raced up the cliffside. At the top was the old Roman style villa that housed the small flat he shared with his best friend Ron Weasley. Ron was away visiting his family for the summer and they’d taken a trip to Romania to see his brother Charlie.

As he sailed through his front door, Harry was greeting with gentle hooting.

‘Hey – I have a job for you,’ he said addressing the snowy white form of his trusted owl Hedwig.

He scribbled a note in a large, round, loopy scrawl and then attached it to her leg.

‘Go on – it’s for Lupin…’

Hedwig let out several heated hoots.

‘Yeah, yeah I know – it’s been too long. Well, go on then,’ Harry said as he shooed her out the window.

He was quite looking forward to seeing the one person who was a solid link to his past.

xxxOOOxxx

June stood in the still dimness of the study off Snape’s office.

‘Beautiful,’ she sighed quietly as she looked around her.

The walls were nothing but books. Books, books and even more books as far as the eye could see. Snape couldn’t resist what could purport to be a slight grimace of a smile.

‘This is but a small portion of my rather extensive library,’ he said in a manner that almost revealed pride.

June gently ran a finger along the spines of the books nearest her.

‘Ooooooo!!’ she gasped as she spotted a book engraved with a turtle on its spine.

The turtle was the totem of her tribe and for the Nanticoke always served as a reminder of their own legends about Creation.

Professor Snape could see that she was most eager to examine the book.

It was a rare book about her people. The only copy in existence of ‘Delaware’s Forgotten People’ was thought to be the one which was known to be under lock and key at The University of Pennsylvania. Many in her tribe had tried for years to get access to the precious historical accounting of Nanticoke life, but the University would never allow it. In this book were stories about all the tribal families including hers. It would be a tremendous gift for any of her people to read what had been observed and experienced of the ‘Grandfather Tribe’ – the one tribe from which legend had it all others had come.

And the Potions Master had a copy in his possession.

She looked at him with a decidedly puzzled look on her face. A look which turned to longing.

‘You may have it if you wish,’ Professor Snape said quietly.

He took the book down and handed it to her.

‘Here…take it. It’s yours…’

June’s hands visibly trembled slightly as she took it. She hugged it close to her with eyes closed and then ran her hands over it.

‘I...I...thank you…thank you so much,’ she said in a choked voice. ‘I’m happy just to borrow it for a while…you don’t have to give such a valuable gift away…’

‘As it is of value and a gift for your people then it is only fitting to entrust it to your care. By rights it should be yours and no one else’s.’

Without meaning to, the Sachem felt tears roll down her cheeks. She turned away from him as it was most unseemly to reveal so much of herself in this way. She sat down on the old overstuffed sofa near the fireplace and tried to pull herself together. Professor Snape handed her a monogrammed handkerchief and then turned up the light of the old-fashioned glass lamp on the table next to the sofa.

The Sachem had opened the book and gasped yet again.

‘My…my…grandparents...’ she said in a breathless whisper. ‘When they were very young. They were younger than me here…and now…..and now…they’re gone. Everything and everyone I have ever known my whole life is gone…’

Snape sat down next to her and looked over at the colour picture taken on the reservation and then into the piercing blue eyes of his young colleague. They were such a piercing blue that they did remind him of…a wolf. Her grandparents did not have those eyes.

Theirs were black.

As black as his own.

There were more questions than answers about the woman next to him, but in this moment Snape managed to do something unusual.

He forgot all about them.