FicWad

Disclaimer: I think we all know who actually owns Harry Potter.

Author's Note: I finished writing another chapter Friday night, a day earlier than I'd hoped, and decided to go back and read through the posted chapters once again. Several minor errors, typos, and whatnot have now been fixed.

I wrote much of this chapter in the day time and away from my computer, both of which are really unusual for me. Transcribing from paper to digital was really sloppy for me too, as I made way more typos than usual.

Whether or not people choose to view Snape as having some good in him, I find his sins far too great to think he deserves any sort of redemption story like Rowling gave him. Asking Voldemort to murder Harry and James but spare Lily so she could be given to him like a prize is the most despicable thing in the entire series. That isn't love people- that's the actions of a disgusting, creepy pervert.

But beyond that, a possible much bigger sin, is how his behavior has both made the divide between Slytherin and the rest of the school even worse and how his anti-teaching would decimate the entire country. No one man should have so much power, but a needed Potions NEWT (and his self-imposed only O level students policy) would drastically reduce the people qualified to be healers, aurors, or potions masters. Those are really important jobs that Snape has basically ruined for (as of the time of this story) nearly 15 years.

It makes me a little sad that I had to create an OC to act as a voice of reason and speak up against Snape's atrocious behavior.

Not to mention the fact that, as a supposed spy who has been redeemed by Dumbledore, he sure does still act like a hate-filled Death Eater. Which is ridiculous and stupid as hell.

-oOoOoOo-

Dobby looked in awe at the task that lay before him. He had known that the Great Harry Potter would be a wonderful master but was now even more astounded at what a treat Harry had given him. Twelve years of unanswered mail. Letters, fan mail, birthday cards, packages, and gifts of all sorts. And Dobby got to go through it all.

He would check for dark magic first- curses, poisons, and the like that people like the old bad masters might have sent. Then all sorts of other magics would need to be checked for- tracking charms, love potions, and various other nasty things wizards could get up to that would be bad for master Harry.

Even his own levitation spell had gotten master Harry into so much trouble and pain. Dobby still cried at times for the things he'd done to Harry, trying to save him, that Harry had forgiven him for. Good wizards and witches might not abuse house-elves the way the old bad masters had done to Dobby, but so very few would ever treat one the way that Harry did. And forgiveness for magical attacks from the servant class? Never.

Now, Dobby had so much work to do. And such fun work it was. Sorting out the bad things was easy enough, and miss Pansy had told Dobby that he should set them aside for mister Sam to look through. Dobby really liked mister Sam. Mr. Sam looked out for the Great Harry Potter and that made him one of the best wizards in the world to Dobby. Dobby hoped mister Sam could get bad wizards sent to jail if they tried to hurt master Harry. Dobby had greatly enjoyed helping send the old bad master away for the Great Harry Potter this summer.

And so, Dobby the house-elf spent much of his time for the next few weeks on this most fun project. Harry would sometimes check in, offering to help (which Dobby always refused with a smile.) Dobby would give him a stack or two of things to look over every day and Harry was very grateful that Pansy taught him a couple of spells to make answering so much correspondence easier.

-oOoOoOo-

Thankfully, Sam had suggested and written up a press statement to be released informing the magical world that Harry had not received any mail until very recently. This helped buy Harry time to try to answer at least some of it. Reading through so much though gave him a myriad of emotions to have to process. On the positive side, there were the birthday cards clearly made and sent to him by other children. Even in recent years, he was still getting plenty of them. Unfortunately, after years of no response, there were also those who had written him plenty of nasty hate mail as well. There were even a few howlers mixed in, but Dobby had taken care of the obnoxious magic of those things.

There were bittersweet letters for him also. Grieving widows, parents who had lost children, a few orphans like himself that had written to him. While they thanked him for stopping you-know-who and expressed their condolences at losing his parents, they also told him of their pain, their loss. It was like they were using him as some sort of confessional, pouring out their emotions to a mythical child savior. What made this strange and funny in an odd sort of way is that the vast majority of these types of letters were written to him when he was still a baby.

Then there were the bequeathals.

The first of these came in early 1982 from a Mrs. Althea Pounds. Surprisingly, she was a muggle. Her husband had served in the Great War, something only those who had lived for many years before World War II came along to rename that disaster as World War I. In the late 1920s, they had married and had a son, who turned out to be a muggle-born wizard. Her son, who she had named Charles, would eventually marry a muggle-born witch named Josephine. They had given her two wonderful granddaughters, who were both witches. The old woman's handwriting worsened badly at this point of her letter and the blotches made Harry think that she had been crying when she wrote their names.

On May 1, 1971, Death Eaters had killed them all.

Her son had been an auror, which put him directly in the line of fire against Voldemort. His wife and daughters, though, were civilians. It would have been understandable if he had died in battle. But that is not what happened.

Somehow, their home had been found. Their wards had been penetrated. The bodies were discovered all laid out in the living room. Her granddaughters and their mother had been raped before having their throats slit. Her son was found tied to a chair. They had made him watch. Then they had tortured him to death. She could not describe what had been done to her son.

Left behind was one of the first known sightings of the Dark Mark.

Her husband died of a heart attack less than a month later.

Althea held on for a decade. Ten lonely years, crying in an empty house. Every night, she would pray to God for justice. For someone, anyone, to avenge her family that had been so brutally wiped out by some of the most vile monsters ever to claim to be human beings. And for a decade, she received no answer to her prayers.

Until Halloween, 1981.

Althea might have been the only muggle receiving the Daily Prophet at that time. Her son had gotten her a subscription years and years before so she could try to understand the magical world that most of her family lived in. So it was that she read of the deaths of James and Lily Potter and the survival of Harry, the boy who lived.

Between her husband's pension, life insurance, and her magical family's vault, she left him over one hundred thousand pounds. She said she would personally thank God for delivering him, the miracle babe who had finally put an end to the war that had taken everything from her. She could now die in peace.

There were many families like the Pounds who were devastated by Voldemort and his Death Eaters, several nearly or even completely wiped out. And more than a few of the survivors left something to Harry, the orphan who had lost his family just as they had. Once he contacted Gringott's about accepting them all, he was going to be pretty rich.

-oOoOoOo-

Unfortunately, Harry also began to question just what Dumbledore's game was in keeping all of this from him. It was one thing to do so while he was hidden away in the muggle world, but why had this not been dealt with two years ago? Was the old man going that senile? Or was there maybe a darker, more sinister reason? And if so, what the hell could Harry possibly do against a wizard with seemingly unlimited magical and political power?

That was before Harry got around to wondering at how Dumbledore had placed Harry with the Dursleys in the first place. What gave him the right to play god like that? Surely there must have been someone else, anyone else, that could have taken him in. The Potters were an old pureblood family, and from what he'd learned from Pansy as well as his own research, those families were very inter-related as there were not that many of them that existed in the first place. Shouldn't that have meant that he had some cousins out there somewhere, even if they weren't named Potter? Harry was going to have to take up genealogy now to try to get some answers, as if he didn't already have so much else to deal with.

His paranoid wondering about Dumbledore also made him replay the recent meeting over and over again. The headmaster had certainly seemed pleasant enough, for the most part. Except for when Sam had threatened Snape, but even then Dumbledore had only defended the bitter, twisted man. He hadn't said anything to Harry since. Not even a harsh glance in the halls or at meal times. So, Dumbledore didn't seem like he was out to do Harry any harm. Maybe Harry's problems and awful life with the Dursleys were truly all just a matter of accident and neglect. But could he afford to assume that Albus Dumbledore of all people was simply careless?

Wouldn't it be better to assume he was evil and be pleasantly surprised by mere dementia? Well, maybe not for Harry's nerves, but if it kept him alive, wouldn't his paranoia be worth it? Especially now that Pansy was counting on him too.

And that led to even more of Harry's paranoia. Because ever since that night when he had told her of his past, a part of him was terrified about what she must think of him. He kept watching her, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She could now see the truth, that the myth of Harry Potter was really all a joke. He wasn't a hero. He'd been nothing more than an abused slave. She must be cursing her luck at signing her life away to him. Him of all people. Someone so... unworthy. He had already failed her this summer. How much worse would it be the next time?

-oOoOoOo-

Pansy was becoming more than a little stressed out. Harry was working himself into a wreck, and when he wasn't, she kept seeing him unable to look at her. Oh, he tried to hide it well, never looking for too long with that pained expression she kept getting glimpses of when he would turn away. But it was really getting on her nerves. Not that she could truly blame him, after all the hell he had been through, but enough was enough.

-oOoOoOo-

That night, Harry was once again going through a stack of letters that Dobby had sorted for him. Pansy had a red book with black lettering in her hand as she quietly walked into the sitting room of their quarters. Harry glanced at her briefly then went back to yet another letter that he was reading. She set the book down on the table and walked over right in front of him.

"Harry."

"Hmm?"

"I believe we agreed that I was the brains of this partnership."

He grunted in agreement. She responded by snatching the parchment out of his hands and throwing it over her shoulder.

"It is time for you to listen to me so we can get back to the important things. Lean back on the couch."

"What sort of important things?"

Pansy climbed onto his lap, straddling him. She grabbed his face with both hands, forcing him to look at her. Then she kissed him. The past few days of worry and doubt had been more than she could bear. It was time to snog his lights out.

-oOoOoOo-

Several refreshing minutes later...

"Those important things. Your humble servant has been feeling neglected, my Lord. I trust you won't neglect me so in the future?"

"Definitely not," he answered with a pleasant sigh. The mess of papers they had kicked all over the floor did not matter at all anymore.

"Good." She adjusted her position, scooting up so that they were face to face, laying sideways on the couch. "Let me remind you of a few things.

"You are my Lord. I am yours. I am not going anywhere. We are partners, remember? So, stop bottling things up and let me help you.

"I've seen how stressed and worried you've been ever since you told me about your past. Then things with the massive backlog of mail. Please, Harry, let me in."

"I just..." Harry stumbled over his words. "I'm trying to, I'm just not sure how."

"Start by telling me what you've been so worried about." She stroked his cheek and smiled at him. She looked into those oh so green eyes of his and saw his stress finally begin to wain.

Harry did as she asked. How could he not? He rambled, then ranted, about everything he had read in the massive amount of letters people sent him. The good and the bad. The weight so many of them seemed all too happy to place on his shoulders. He told her of his worries and fears about Dumbledore. He poured everything out, or at least most of it. Then...

"And, on top of all that, you've been worrying about me. Or more specifically, how I would react to you telling me about your past." He looked away and only answered with a nod. She once again grabbed his face and kissed him.

"Stop worrying about that. We'll just have to make sure that Dobby keeps me from killing the Dursleys." That finally got an amused snort out of him. "I think I have something that can help ease all the stress you've been under lately."

"If you just keep snogging me, I'll probably be alright."

"Maybe, but this," she said as she picked up the book from the table, "can do even more."

"What is it?"

"Remember when I told you about magical sex rituals?" Harry perked up nicely at that, and she felt his excitement pressing against her. "I think you will find this to be a very interesting read. I've even marked a few pages for you to focus on."

"You are officially the best secret girlfriend in the world."

"Yes, I am." She got up from the couch and helped him to his feet. "It's time to go to bed, my Lord."

"It's still a bit early."

"We're not going to sleep," she said with a lecherous grin. He laughed and began to follow her to his bedroom.

"Thank you for reminding me why you're the brains."

"You're welcome. Now why don't you remind me why I put you in charge of the physical side of things?"

-oOoOoOo-

A crack awoke them some time after midnight.

Harry grabbed for his wand and rolled from the bed. He cast Lumos and looked around the room. Pansy, the heavier sleeper, was sitting up and fumbling for her own wand. The light from Harry shone on a small bloody figure collapsed on the floor.

He quickly moved across the room and Pansy gasped as he turned the small body over. It was Leddy.

"Dobby!" The house-elf appeared and ran to his master's side. "Help me with her."

"Is she?" Pansy asked.

"She's alive but-"

"Give Dobby a few minutes master. Dobby will make Leddy feel better."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just let Dobby work master Harry."

"Alright."

Pansy straightened herself up and found Harry's pyjama pants. As warm as it was lately, he had been sleeping only in his boxers. She led him from the room and suggested he put them on. He hadn't even noticed what he was wearing, paying attention only to the elves. That was just like Harry. She would have to advise him a bit more in the future, so that he'd look good while doing his usual heroic deeds. She went to their little kitchen area of the main room and started making tea.

A few minutes later, Dobby floated Leddy out into the sitting room. She looked a lot better but was still unconscious. In a whisper Dobby said that she should probably awake soon.

They sat down to wait with Leddy stretched out on the couch. Of course, she was small enough that Dobby and Pansy still had room to sit next to her. Harry quietly started a fire then sat down in a chair off to the side. Pansy noticed that he still had his wand out and was keeping an eye on the door to their quarters. She grinned to herself at his protective nature as she poured them all some tea.

Dobby normally might have said something about being served tea by a witch, but he was quickly learning just how different and wonderful it was to be a part of the Potter family. Miss Pansy wasn't as kind and powerful as master Harry, but then again no one was. She was still much nicer than even his former mistress had ever been.

The minutes ticked by slowly. Pansy would idly stroke her former house-elf's head as they all sipped on their tea and waited.

Leddy began to stir, then shot up from the couch in a fright. She looked around with wide bulging eyes before seeing where she was and throwing her arms around Pansy and beginning to sob.

"Leddy, it's going to be alright now. You're safe here. What happened to you?" Pansy asked as she tried to get her to calm down.

"Master came home so angry. Master was away on business. Master came home and..." she sniffed and took a breath before she could continue.

"Master was yelling about miss Pansy. Master yelled at mistress, said mistress was a bad mother and miss Pansy was a bad girl. Master said a lot of mean things and was casting nasty spells around. Master went upstairs and found that miss Pansy's things were all gone. Master destroyed what was left in the room. Then master found the library and yelled about miss Pansy stealing things. Mistress went upstairs to see what master was yelling about. Master yelled even more and hurt mistress. Then master yelled at Leddy and hurt Leddy. Master used dark magic on Leddy. Leddy thinks master used it on mistress too.

"Leddy thought.. Leddy thought master was going to kill mistress and Leddy. Leddy fell asleep from pain. When Leddy awoke there was blood everywhere and master and mistress were both gone.

"Leddy had to come. Leddy had to warn miss Pansy. Master will kill miss Pansy. Master is so... so mean!" Leddy collapsed against Pansy, weeping terribly. Harry looked over at them as Pansy stared into the fire with a dark angry look on her face. As long as they were here at Hogwarts, they should be safe. But he was going to have to do something about Edmund Parkinson. He'd had a couple of angry thoughts before, but nothing definite, no real plans. It was time for that to change.

"Leddy, you can stay here with us as long as you like," Pansy said, trying to console her.

"Master or mistress will call for Leddy sooner or later. Leddy will have to go home. But Leddy had to warn miss Pansy first."

"Why don't you rest here for tonight, at least as long as you can," Harry said softly. "Dobby, can you get a blanket for Leddy?"

"Mister Harry is a good wizard. Leddy is glad miss Pansy is with a good family now." Dobby appeared and covered her with a blanket. "Leddy will rest a bit."

She was clearly still exhausted and probably in pain, but the little elf soon fell asleep. Harry motioned for Pansy and Dobby to follow him into his bedroom.

"What can we do for her?"

"Other than letting her rest here, probably not a lot," Pansy answered.

"Dobby, you would know more than either of us. I know we can't free her, but is there anything else we can do to help Leddy?"

"Leddy will have to go back to the Parkinson home and family. If Leddy's master and mistress are asleep, Leddy can sleep here. But in the morning, Leddy will have to go whenever Leddy's master or mistress calls."

"Can she come back here to see us? I know you did a year ago, but you said you had to punish yourself. I don't want Leddy to be hurt."

"Leddy will have to stay away for the most part. If a master or mistress needs a house-elf, the house-elf must go."

"So she could probably only visit us when they are asleep or busy, something like that?"

"Yes, master Harry."

"I guess we'll just have to let her sleep. Dobby, do you mind watching her tonight, in case she needs anything? You could rest tomorrow while Pansy and I are in class."

"Dobby can do that easily."

"Thank you. Wake me if you need anything. Otherwise, Pansy and I need to try to get some more sleep tonight."

"Good night master Harry and miss Pansy. Don't worry. Dobby will take good care of Leddy."

"Thanks Dobby," Pansy said softly as she went off to the bathroom. Harry sat his wand on the night stand and tried to calm down and relax. Pansy came back out a minute later, and crawled into bed joining him. She curled up against him as Harry wrapped his arms around her.

"We're going to have to do something about Father."

"I know, but try not to worry about it tonight. We're safe here at Hogwarts."

"For now. But what happens when we leave here? At Christmas break, or next summer. We'll have to hide from him."

"Shh," Harry murmured. "I promised to protect you, and I will. You'll be safe with me."

"Not if he kills you," she whispered and Harry felt her tremble slightly.

"Then I'll just have to kill him first."