Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1
The sun beat down in rays of fire giving Haven a new appreciation for the bacon she fried for the Dursleys breakfast.
Sweat ran in rivulets over her tan skin and she flutily wiped at the drips leaking into her eyes with the front of her t-shirt. It was futile because the shirt was already soaked and she only really succeeded in smearing the dirt from the top onto her face.
She sighed as she realised and looked around before pouring a little water from the watering can over her head. Vernon wouldn’t like her ‘wasting good water’ on a freak like her but the immense heat was sweltering and she took a sip from the can as well, trying to ignore the slight tinny taste and the way it knocked against her teeth as her arms shook.
The potions had run out for the after-effects of the cruciatus a few weeks ago and she hadn’t yet had a chance to go out and get a restock, she just thanked whatever gods were looking out for her that she hadn’t broken anything with her unreliable jolts.
“Oi!” a voice piped up from the back of her mind, “You could just let me burn them you know. I don’t understand why you let them treat you like this, you're much more powerful.”.
“Cel, I know you don’t get it but if I'm not treated like this he’ll just turn on Dudley or Aunt Petunia when they can't defend themselves.” She told the entity who had joined her last school year having been freed from the Mirror of Erised.
“Then just kill him or threaten him!” She told her exasperated, they’d had this argument a lot over the month she’d been back at the Dursleys and her answer was always the same.
“Threaten him and he takes it out on Petunia and Dudley or kicks me out when he decides to call my bluff. Kill him and the house and money are gone for Dudley and Petunia and I go to Azkaban.” She reiterated, digging her shovel into the dry earth and heaving it up to plant the daffodil bulbs, coughing at the dust that rose up.
“We could go to your mother?” Cel suggested, again, not for the first time and Haven stabbed the earth again with more force, biting down on her tongue at the anger and hurt that swelled up at the mention of her supposed ‘mother’.
At the end of last year it had been revealed that in fact her twin was alive and had just been in hiding all this time with her ‘mother’ somewhere far away. She wasn’t an orphan; she was just ditched for dead.
“She won't take me, she said it herself, I am nothing, not a Potter, not to them at least. The only reason I'm not nameless is because she doesn't have the Potter Lordship!” She nearly shouted before realising her volume and the fact that nobody could hear the entity but her.
It had hurt, it had crushed her, the blatant rejection of her suddenly alive family.
After the announcement had been made the hall had exploded with noise. Dumbledore had gone on to explain where Charlus had been, how they had both faked their own deaths with a façade of fake-blood and fire, but nobody had been listening.
There had been so many eyes on her, it had made her skin crawl and before she could even think about what she was doing, she was getting up and leaving the hall and it's murmurs and shouts behind. It was painfully obvious to everyone that she hadn’t known.
She had spent most of the last day and trip home under her cloak apart from the meeting where Dumbledore had told her that she would still be going to the Dursleys ‘for her own safety’ but her mother would reach out imminently.
The biting words of her mother’s letter still lingered, the letter she had received the first day of the holidays.
Dear Haven,
Though you may think me cruel for my actions, you must understand my reasoning for sending you away and keeping the knowledge of my survival from you.
My child is the saviour, he is under constant attack from those who wish to do him harm and as a near-squib you would have had very little power to defend yourself. For your own safety as well as Charlus’s I sent you to my sister. You would have been a weakness to him and endangered his life to put it bluntly.
My sister is kind, if a bit snappish, we repaired our old feud before my ‘death’ and you will be happy with her, a muggleborn upbringing would also lessen the pressure you would surely get from your exposure to your powerful brother, to accomplish early feats of magic.
Though I regret having you think you were an orphan. I believe it was for the best and will make my next action much easier to bear.
It is for you, that I hereby disown you. The paperwork of confirmation has been attached. I beg you not to judge me too harshly but I must protect my child.
Lily Potter (nee Evans)
‘I must protect my child’. What a load of utter bullshit.
But it still hurt.
“Fine.” Cel said eventually, sensing the anger and tears that threatened. She remained quiet as Haven finished planting the bulbs and dusted off her hands, moving to start the mowing before getting back to the weeding she had started yesterday. She was exhausted, the constant nightmares of everyone around her dying something that plagued both her sleeping and waking moments.
“Girl! Keep at it! I put a roof over your head and I expect my due!” Vernon yelled at her from the open back garden door, the sneer forming on his lip making it so the dead squirrel lying across his lip he called a moustache was shoved up his nose. Sometimes she wished she could just burn him alive like Cel suggested, or let Basil asphyxiate him. It was probably a good thing that the snake was out hunting or she may have asked him to do just that.
He stormed across the garden, grass blades screaming as they were crushed beneath heavy shoes, or maybe that was just her internal voice. She tried to shrink back but he was grabbing her by the scruff of her t-shirt, yanking her up to spit, “I'm going out to the pub! This whole garden and the list on the fridge better be done by the time I get back!” in her face and then storm out of the garden gate, slamming it shut.
*clang*
*shhhhhh*
The back door slid open and Dudley came out, glancing around before jogging over to where Haven crouched. He had grown in his few months at Smelting’s, put on more muscle and lost some of the weight a Dursley diet had forced him to put on.
He crouched down beside her, rolling up long sleeves and putting a hand soundlessly out for a tool that she gladly handed over. Aunt Petunia joined them a few moments later to collect the spare tools from the shed before heading out to finish the weeds at the front.
“Sorry I couldn’t come earlier Have, he wouldn’t leave, kept trying to make me watch the hunting channel, you know the one where they massacre the sharks.” Dudley explained, shuddering a little at the mention of the gruesome show. Haven could only bring herself to nod, throat parched and hoarse from her brief temper.
“Oh, right.” Dudley said with a nod, dropping the tool to grab something from inside the house, putting two chilled lemonades from the fridge, “I'll just say I went out with Piers; you know how much he loves that prick.” He explained, cracking off the top and handing it over to Haven who greedily gulped down the sour fizzy drink, smiling at her brother genuinely.
“Thanks” she managed to get out.
“So how’s school?” Dudley asked for what had to be the hundredth time this summer, even though they'd exchanged frequent letters during the term he still had an inane fascination with magic and by extension, Hogwarts.
“I miss my friends I suppose, Angie is in Austria with Alicia, I think they’re going to finally get together this year, if the pining in their letters is anything to go by” she really needed to send a letter to George and place her bet for Christmas, they had a running one on when the two quidditch players would finally get together.
“Hermione said she was going to Paris in her last letter and she sent me a postcard, you know the one I showed you with the moving photo of her waving in front of the Eiffel Tower? Anyway apparently the ministry there is mental, way better than the one here she says, of course most would be.” She started to tell him, falling into the easy happy talk topic that was magic.
She missed her friends like a deep ache but the letters helped, she wrote bi-weekly with George, Susan and Ron as well as a postcard exchange with Hermione, having the letters delivered to the shed instead of the house to avoid Vernon which was working out well. It also meant Hedwig spent very little time actually with her, instead spending nights with her friends all around the country.
George was filling her in on the wonders of wizarding life, their neighbours the Lovegood’s apparently had some form of magazine that was comprised of facts on creatures only they could see, an interesting phenomenon to say the least.
They were also neighbours with Cedric Diggory, a fourth year Hufflepuff who came over a lot to play quidditch, Ron had been filling her in on his tactics as a seeker, ready for the Hufflepuff/Gryffindor match this school year.
In return for all of this knowledge Haven was sending back to George facts about Muggle inventions, the most common of which was a guessing game as to what a biro was as well as an ongoing discussion as to why one would name a band after a small and insignificant animal like a 'Beetle' and why in fact, the band was so good.
George particularly liked ‘Yellow Submarine’ though ‘Here comes the sun’ was a close second, he thought it was hopeful and said his mum kept asking what he was humming all the time. Haven had taken to doing the same as she worked though it was currently ‘yesterday’ that was running through her head today as well as ‘Bicycle ride’ by Queen.
Haven had only mentioned George once in her many letters to Hermione, her friend had seemed to sense even through paper her lingering guilt about the ending of last year and though Haven didn't want to burden Mione’ with accounts of her nightmares, the discussions that came from that inference had helped her a lot.
She had been worried that distance would force her friends away from her but she couldn’t have been more wrong, without the distraction of school she had gotten to know them better for their personalities outside of Slytherin hatred, Quidditch and work schedules.
Hermione had become a confidant and visa-versa as Hermione ranted about her parents not understanding the wizarding rules and necessity of doing the homework and visiting magical areas.
The work passed more easily with everyone helping and the seemingly endless list pinned to the fridge was finished in no time, the sun still hung in the sky meaning they had some time until Vernon returned.
“Do you think I have time to go to the park?” she asked Petunia who was inspecting the list both front and back, trying to find any hidden task, a favourite little trick of Vernon’s.
“Yes.” Haven sighed, looking to her niece with a warning look, “be back within half an hour if you can, we don’t want to run any risks. Here, I got some change from the sofa, you can probably get a sandwich, we have guests tomorrow so Vernon’s not going to let you have any dinner.” She supplied in a matter-of-fact tone, Haven just smiled though.
Guests meant she had to serve, and she was bound to be on her best behaviour if she was hungry with a promise of a meal if she was silent and meek in serving them their food.
Haven took the money, giving Dudley a high-five as she went to leave.
“You're still looking for him?” Dudley asked, eyes sparking with pity as she nodded slightly, “He’s homeless, you said he wasn’t looking good the last time you saw him, and Have, it's been months, you have to accept, he’s might not be coming back.” He said quietly.
Haven bit her lip, she knew what Dudley said was probably the truth, that John, the man who had taught her French and chess and had been her second friend and parental figure-
That John was probably dead.
“But he might be, and I can help him this time! Just like what I'm doing for us, as soon as I turn twelve and can claim my heirships we can move onto one of the properties I have and be safe! We’re going to be free and happy and I want him to be too.” She explained quietly.
It was their plan, their escape, Petunia already had her medical file, pictures of the cupboard at its worst and Haven after a beating ready to give to the divorce and custody lawyer. Ten. More. Days. The final countdown.
Haven just wished John would be there to see it.
The girl scampered from the house without further delay, yanking up her hoodie to cover frail libs and calling to Basil that she would be back soon, receiving only a hiss of confirmation from the irritable snake. She supposed she wasn’t paying him enough attention lately.
Setting off wandering down sunset bathed roads Haven took in the identical manicured lawns and houses, the bushes bursting with colour and soft falling cherry blossoms that danced through the air on a phantom breeze, filling the wind with a calming floral alure.
The park finally appeared before her, open fields and flower beds for miles.
This was her favourite place. She had many memories of spending every day here once Vernon went to work and Dudley went to school, days of maths and English and chess and French with John. His soft smile and sandy hair, the scar by his mouth that always stretched when he smiled, the one person she knew with more scars than her.
They had always made for an odd and scrawny sight but that was how they liked it.
A small tug pulled at the corner of her mouth as she breathed in the fresh air lightly scented with roses and freshly cut grass. The heat had died down for the evening and now a cool breeze ruffled her suddenly short hair as she approached the bandstand and chess tables that were situated in the centre of the park.
She took her seat at their chess table and took out her favourite book to wait. She’d already managed to get her homework done thankfully and the extra reading.
‘The Secret Garden’ was still her favourite book, her treasured possession. It had in fact not belonged to her mum as Petunia had told her and honestly, Haven was enormously glad, seeing the book, knowing it's ‘old owner’ had disowned her, hated her! It was more than she could have handled.
No, in fact the book belonged to Petunia who had looked at a five-year-old Haven, beaten bloody and crying out for any semblance of family and tried to give her a lifeline. “It was your mums” she had told the child, “she loved this book more than anything else, look at the little notes in the margins, the comments, the pictures, it's all for you” her aunt had whispered in the dead of night. The five-year-old had taken that book, grasped it in weak hands, crumbs of the food snuck to her still littering a tiny mouth and had smiled toothily for the first time in an age.
So it didn't matter that it wasn’t really her mums because it had belonged to the person who had been that surrogate mum for most of Havens life, who had given up her most prized possession to a child to stop her crying. Who had held her tightly every night and nursed her wounds when Lily had been nowhere to be found.
Time slipped away like the sun down through the sky and behind the edge of the world. By the time she looked up the sky was dark and terror ran deep in her bones. She was late.
She ran. Faster than she had ever run before, but not fast enough.
She knew she was caught the second she entered the house and the scent of alcohol hung in the air.
0----0
The next morning came, she had survived the night, that was a good sign at least. Haven eased blood crusted eyelids open to the harsh light of morning. She was in the second bedroom not her cupboard at least, it seemed he hadn’t been angry enough this time to forgo any worries about the wizarding world finding out her previous living situation.
What felt to be a strange silky cold thing was fluttering against her cheek in earnest and the exhausted girl knew it was Basil immediately, though he spent most of his time in the garden since growing to his full size he had mastered the art of scaling the tree outside her window and was now in her room trying his best to wake her up.
She breathed a shuddering breath as the voice piped up in the back of her mind, “Oh good, you're awake!” Cel seemed to sigh in relief, “wait don’t!” she started, Basil chiming in with the same warning, but Haven was already sitting up and groaning in agony at the stabbing pain in her chest when she drew in a breath, right, the broken rib. Basil hissed indignantly, attempting to use his large muscular length to steady her to varying levels of success.
Still, she made to stand trying to ignore the black swirling dots that threatened to encompass her vision falling into the wall beside her bed heavily and struggling back to her feet. Everything seemed to hurt, but at least he hadn’t used the belt this time, he rarely did when he’d been drinking. He seemed to lose any semblance of control or uniformity when alcohol surged new strength through his veins. The belt and drink, now that was a tossup of which was one day going to kill her.
“Stupid. Haven you can't get up right now, you're weak enough as it is.” Cel tried to tell her but she just slammed up her mental shields, carefully cultivated over the weeks of mindless work. She didn't need to hear it from Cel, she’d been living here her whole life while the entity had been a tagalong for a month.
She could feel fiery fists on her mental walls but she focused on snuffing them in a pool of icy water before hobbling to the bedside, inspecting the clock by her nightstand as she did so. It was a mickey mouse one from one of the trips to the Disney store Haven had been locked in her cupboard for the duration for.
It had been broken quickly enough, thrown against a flowery wall in a fit of Vernon’s rage when it wouldn’t stop ringing. Dudley had fixed it for her use a few years ago as a birthday present, prying the little hammers away from the bells so it only buzzed, it was one of her favourite possessions.
Dudley hoped to go into engineering and was already looking into the qualifications needed, Haven wanted to introduce him to Mr Weasley, she had a feeling they'd get on well what with Mr Weasleys apparent fascination with muggle gadgets as retold by George.
It was four o’clock, Vernon had probably gone to work, she wondered how she’d possibly gotten away with sleeping in. It was too late to get on a wash for her sheets now she sighed, looking at the pillow covered in dry blood, probably from the now healed wound on her head.
A sigh escaped her lips as she staggered to slump to the ground by her door, taking out a lockpick from her sleeve and inserting it into the lock with trembling hands, losing several pins to the tremors before finally succeeding in twisting it to the right angle and unlocking the lock. She knew Petunia had probably already unlocked the ones on the outside of the door and thankfully the door swung open with only a little effort.
“The house is empty” Basil told her, “and you are an idiot for trying to move, I hope you know what you're doing, risking my treat source.” Aka her life.
She couldn’t bring herself to stand, her ankle still somehow bent at an odd angle so the bone ground down into muscle with every movement. She’d need to fix that at some point but for now she crawled on her hands and knees to the bathroom, the tile cool against her burning palms.
“Cel?” She thought to the entity, bringing down the shields and feeling the burning presence once more.
“Haven, oh thank Gods you're not dead or something.”
“Can you take over my body for a minute and heal my ankle and some of the internal bleeding.” She recognised the symptoms, the dizziness and numbness combined with the rolling white hot burning in her abdomen.
“Yeah… yeah I can, do you want me to do your chores too, I’ll need to look through your memories on how to do some of them but I think I can figure it out. but Haven.”
“Yeah?”
“don’t do that again, shutting me out, I couldn’t feel anything and you know I can't help you when I can't feel you.”
She had barely accepted the offer before a presence was forcing her from her own mind so that she sat in the living room, lounging fully healed on the familiar sofa, the tv screen that was her vision in front of her.
“Right well this is going to have to go.” Cel murmured to themselves, staring at the body in the mirror and editing it so the feminine features she’d suddenly begun acquiring became harsher and more androgenous. The body’s skin darkening slightly and eyes shifting to the harsh and burning blue as Cel took full control and changed the body to suit their own features.
Cel them proceeded to scrub their face to rid it of the blood and run a little water through short strands of fiery hair to clean the remnants from that too. Finally they felt they looked presentable enough and hobbled to the toilet, pulling the broken ankle up onto a knee before grabbing it with both hands and twisting with a sickening crunch and yelp of pain.
Haven was very glad in that moment she didn't have control of her body, watching as bone reformed before her very eyes, melding together until it resembled a foot again and not a mangled mess of bone and sinew.
She finally also managed to get back to sleep, snoring lightly as Celosia manoeuvred their body around the house and downstairs pausing as nobody greeted them.
The Dursley’s had all gone out then, that was good, it meant they didn't expect them to do any chores because they were locked in their room.
Cel grimaced as they surveyed the house, feeling the sleeping presence in their shared mind, well there was no point waking her now, and besides, this gave them the perfect chance to check out the muggle TV that everyone seemed to be so enraptured by. They grabbed some ice from the freezer and pressed it against their aching shoulder, it must have gotten dislocated at some point in the last night and not put in again right. Luckily all it took was a little shove against a wall and it was set again.
They perched on the floor, rolling their shoulders and applying the ice again, not caring if the pack leaked water into her already bloody t-shirt. They had about two hours before their relatives came home given they were having guests at seven, that left an hour for TV. Celosia grinned again, pointing the flat remote at the screen and watching with wide-eyes and colour surged from the screen and sound played loudly through speakers throughout the room.
Basil slithered up to her, curling up on her lap with a contented sigh as Cel used a little of her fire to warm her skin around him, sending a hand gliding along his scales in a soothing manner. “Put on the one with the stabby girl and the fang humans!” Basil told her, pointing his heart shaped head towards the TV.
She chuckled, putting on the ‘stabby girl’ TV show, giggling as the Slayer stabbed a vampire and he vanished into dust, of only it were that easy to clean up a dead body, she thought.
Ah humans, their technology.