Princess Sunburst

Harry was busy hiding the Elder Wand back in Dumbledore’s tomb when she came to his side. The savior of the Wizarding World was utterly confused why someone would come out here, especially when Harry specifically asked that all well-wishers be diverted away from him. He had no wish to deal with any of them; he just wanted to chance to say goodbye to those he lost to this war. James and Lily. Sirius. Dumbledore. Moody. Hedwig. Fred. Lupin. Tonks. Colin. Snape. They were all gone. All those people who gave their lives so that Harry could win. Their lives were snuffed out too early, before their time.

In spotting Apollonia Snape coming towards him, it hurt even more. Even if Snape turned out to be a good guy in all of this, he still did a lot of things that made it appear as if he was against Harry. Emerald eyes like his mother or not, it still shouldn’t have happened. Though, he supposed, it was only right to proclaim the man a hero, for the sake of his daughter. Harry tried to get her to go away, but the Snape daughter refused, claiming to have talked to Hermione and gotten permission from her to come out here. It made Harry wish that Ron was the one to spot her; he never would have allowed a Slytherin to come out and pester Harry.

When Apollonia revealed that she planned on telling him about the memory she unlocked during her first Occulemency lesson, a feat that Harry wished to have been able to reach, he nearly jumped for joy. Even during the time that he couldn’t stand to be around her, couldn’t bear to be around Snape’s spawn, Harry wondered what the memory she saw was. And now he was about to find out what that was. Only, he was dejected to learn that it was Snape holding a baby along with a couple that he knew. Harry didn’t see what was so interesting about two emerald-eyed babies; babies she identified as the two of them. And, he questioned her about it, never expecting the answer she might give. “Harry, I’m your sister.”

All his life, Harry wanted a family; he wanted someone to notice he existed. Never. Not once were the Dursleys ever kind to him. They treated him like Cinderella. It was only when the letter to Hogwarts came on July 31st, 1991—his eleventh birthday, as Harry recalled—that the young Potter began to learn the truth about his existence. Bit by bit, it was revealed over the last seven years, though a lot of it had been revealed over the last twenty-four hours: being a Peverell descendant, the youngest Ignotus, holder of the Invisibility Cloak; and, Snape’s friendship with his mother, which eventually turned into love.

It was the latter of the two that led to this, to the revelation that he had a twin sister. If Apollonia’s story was to be believed—it was not yet a proven fact—Snape and his mother must have had an affair. Someone, somewhere along the line, could have mentioned this. Maybe then, Harry would be more inclined to believe the story. As it stood, Harry was not exactly willing to believe it; he would need confirmation first before believing anything.

“Uh, Harry?”

The teen looked as the young Snape waved her hand in front of him, snapping him to attention. “Sorry, must have zoned out there,” Harry explained to Snape’s daughter. “Uh, what was it you were saying?” he asked, a part of him wishing that what she said was a dream.

“I’m your sister, Harry,” she repeated.

Nope, no dream. She really said it. Harry regarded the emerald-eyed—it was the same shade as his, he noticed—girl carefully. How was he supposed to do this? It was funny; when it came to Voldemort, Harry had not had any difficulty coming to grips on the fact that he was walking straight towards his death. However, when dealing with the possibility of a sister, he froze, unsure of how to handle it. After another uncomfortable silence, Harry finally found his words. “How can I be so sure that you really are my sister?” he asked.

Apollonia huffed indignantly and stood up. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful for people having knowledge of this, even after Dad didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Who knows?” Harry wondered.

The Slytherin began ticking them off. “Well, there’s James, Mum, Dad, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Poppy—that’s Madam Pomfrey—Flitwick, Sprout, Hermione, Tonks, Dobby, Slughorn, Fred, and Draco; that’s everyone—including those who are currently dead—in order of when they found out, mind you, who ever had knowledge of who I am.”

Harry counted through them, leaving out those who weren’t dead. “So, the Heads of House, Pomfrey, Hermione, and Malfoy who aren’t dead. And since I have no intention of asking Malfoy, that leaves Hermione or one of the teachers as my only option. Six options existed for him to take, though he was leaning toward three of the six: Hermione, McGonagall, and Pomfrey; he was not that close to either Sprout or Flitwick, and he had enough of Slughorn to last an entire lifetime. No, definitely not Slughorn. It had to be someone he could trust, someone who he could defend on. And that only left Hermione. Harry picked himself up from the grave, not yet finished digging; he chose to do it the Muggle way, as it would make returning the wand to Dumbledore’s tomb that much more poignant. “Hermione? Where is she?” Harry asked Apollonia as he jumped up.

“Great Hall. With the Weasleys,” she answered.

“Stupid question,” Harry muttered. Of course Hermione was with the Weasleys. Fred’s death impacted everything, and Hermione was not about to leave the Weasleys’ side so they could grieve properly; Harry and Hermione were affected by his death as well. Harry and Apollonia headed to the Great Hall, hoping to question Hermione about Apollonia’s parentage. However, he did not remember the issue with that, not until it was too late.

Ron pointed an accusatory finger at Apollonia. “Why’s she here?”

It was Molly who glared at him. “Ronald!” she scolded.

“But, Mum; she’s a Slytherin!” Ron complained.

“And since when does that make it okay for you to treat the girl in such a way?” Molly asked. “She just lost her father and you’re here complaining about her being a Slytherin?”

“But, her father’s a greasy git!” Ron argued.

Hermione slapped Ron, and Harry thought that would be enough, but Apollonia flew into a rage. “How dare you insult my father after everything you just heard?” she yelled. “Just hours ago, Harry stood in front of Voldemort explaining how my father was a spy for Dumbledore. It was to save me that Dad first turned to Dumbledore.” She grunted. “I cannot believe how bigoted you are towards Slytherins. And, I cannot believe that you would use that particular name for my father, a name I came up with at age five. Bill, Charlie, back me up on this; you know I did; and, if Tonks were alive, she could as well.”

Harry saw the older two Weasley boys nod. “It’s true all right.”

“She created the Dungeon Bat legend?” Ron exclaimed loudly.

“Oh, yes,” Bill said. “Immensely useful that little nugget of information. Snape never did figure out that it was his own daughter who came up with the names. Tried hard, he did though.”

Apollonia grinned. “I was too innocent to ever do so.”

Charlie snorted. “Yeah, you innocent!”

“Still a little sore, I see,” Apollonia mused. “Well, I’ll eventually cure you of that. Can’t stay mad at me forever. Now, I’m going to need some bat wings. Wouldn’t happen to oblige, would you George?”

For the first time since Fred’s death was discovered had George perked up. Harry was rather surprised that the prodding from Snape’s daughter had such an effect; everyone who tried it failed quite miserably. However, for Apollonia, it seemed almost too easy.

“Sure,” he nodded.

The bat wings were exchanged, as well as what appeared to be a Pepper-Up potion. “Any orange juice in this?” she asked, though that appeared to be a rather peculiar question as everyone knew that orange juice wasn’t an ingredient in the Pepper-Up potion. Surely the daughter of a Potions Master would know that. As expected, George shook his head and Apollonia was holding the items. She proffered them to Ron. “Here, I think you should take these. You’re not looking too well.” Apollonia hit the nail on the head with that one, to use a Muggle phrase. No one was looking well. “You might feel better. Just add the bat wings and you should be fine.” Charlie was starting to protest, which Harry found odd, but Apollonia shot him a look. “No, Charlie. This is happening; he needs this today and you know it.”

The savior of the Wizarding World was rather intrigued by what Apollonia and Charlie were arguing about. It certainly did not seem to make much sense. “What’s going on?” Harry asked.

“Shush,” Apollonia scolded.

As Ron dropped the bat wings into the Pepper-Up potion, Apollonia, George, Charlie, and Bill took a step back. Harry could see why, as Ron was engulfed in a cloud of smoke. When the smoke clear a few moments later, Harry saw Ron emerge with an interesting new hair-do. In fact, it was identical to the ones Fred and George sported a year ago. Ron’s hair was now dual-tone, purple on one side, red on the other. “Ron! Your hair!” Molly screamed.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” a perplexed Ron asked.

Hermione handed him a mirror. “Here, look.”

At the sight of his hair, Ron screamed. “Hey!”

Apollonia glared at the youngest Weasley. It was a look of rage that Harry had seen only when the young Snape was faced with Pansy Parkinson. “Remember what happened to Pansy at this time last year?” Ah, that explained it; Apollonia was pulling the same stunt here. “Actually, now that I think about it, I should do the same to her again this year, especially after that stunt last night, trying to turn Harry into Voldemort; I’ll have to get her back for that. Anyway, it’s three days of the hair, seven days of blotchy skin. And since only my father and I are the ones to know the antidote—my father is dead as I’m sure you remember and I won’t reverse this—you’ll be suffering through ten days of shame. Funerals and celebrations are to be held now that Voldemort is dead, so that’s going to pose a problem for you.”

Ron glared at her. “Change it back, Snape!”

“Not happening,” Apollonia assured him. “Not so long as you refuse to accept that all Slytherins are bad news. And, from what I’ve observed, it will never happen at all.”

As Ron stalked off, Hermione turned to Apollonia. “Was that really necessary? Harry and I both get that you’re not that fond on Ron, but must you really provoke him like that?”

“You know my issue with him,” Apollonia returned.

Harry looked to one of his two best friends. “We need to talk.”

The muggleborn nodded. “Yes, I think we do.”

The trio disappeared to a secluded area of the castle, the ante chamber where first-years waited to be sorted. And, it was there in which Apollonia and Harry briefed Hermione on the situation at hand. “Remember that issue we started discussing last year.” She nodded. “Yeah well, I told Harry, but he doesn’t exactly believe me. Apparently, he’s going to need confirmation of the story; that what I say is the truth. I don’t know why it must be that way, but if Harry insists, I do it; I’ll humor him. And that means that you, McGonagall, or Poppy will have to tell him the truth, help me make him understand that.”

Hermione eyed her. “Is the Fidelius down?”

“Oh, crap; I almost forgot,” she grimaced. She pulled out her wand and wove an intricate strain of wand movements. “How the hell did I forget that? Well anyway, fidelius finite.” Harry felt a crash of energy, as if a great weight had been lifted. “Her name can be said now.”

Before Hermione could stay anything, Harry felt the need to interrupt; he had to in order to understand what was going on. “What was that about, the crash of energy I felt?”

“That was the Fidelius that Dumbledore helped me place around my mother’s identity,” Apollonia explained. “No one could say her name for the last year and a half, done so I could keep Voldemort from learning who I was. Otherwise, I might be dead as well.”

“Why would you need to do that?” Harry asked.

“Harry!” Hermione admonished. “Her mother is Lily Potter.”

“I need proof,” Harry insisted, “or I won’t believe it.”

“Apollonia Lily Evans Snape,” the Slytherin stated.

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

“My full name,” she explained.

Even though her full name did seem to help explain things, like the Evans—that was his mother’s maiden name; why else would it be present in her name if she wasn’t related to her—in her name, Harry was not completely convinced that Apollonia was his sister. Harry needed concrete evidence that proved that she was telling the truth; it was the only way. “I need something more than just your word,” Harry explained to Apollonia.

“Pomfrey or Slughorn could help,” Hermione suggested.

“Pomfrey,” Harry decided. “We go see her.”

Another trip through the castle was made, this time to the Hospital Wing where Madam Poppy Pomfrey was going through supplies. She turned suddenly upon hearing the noise to see Harry, Hermione, and Apollonia walk in. “Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, Ms. Snape, why are you here?”

“We need a favor, Poppy,” Apollonia explained. Harry was shocked at such familiarity; he didn’t know of any student that was permitted to call the healer by her given name. Even Harry, who was in here more times than he could count, did not have the privilege to do so. But, Apollonia Snape did. “I told Harry here my biggest secret; however, he refuses to accept it as the truth unless I can provide some concrete evidence to prove it.”

Pomfrey had a thoughtful expression. “There is a genealogy potion,” she explained. “It will provide you with a list of all family members. That should prove it to Mr. Potter, especially since it cannot be faked. Yes, I think that would work for your purposes.”

“Do you have it in stock?” the Snape asked.

“I’m afraid not. It’s not a needed potion for the Hospital Wing,” Madam Pomfrey said, shaking her head. “But, I do believe that Horace has a stock of it. I’m sure he could help you. He’d be happy to help Lily’s children. You know how he is about his Slug members.”

“Quite well; I’m not even part of the Slug Club,” Apollonia laughed.

To Harry’s immense displeasure, the trio headed down to Professor Slughorn’s office. As much as he did not wish to ask Horace Slughorn for help – he got too much attention from the man, enough to last a lifetime – it was the only way that Harry was ever going to discover if Apollonia was his sister or not. “Does it have to be Slughorn?” Harry grimaced. His only reason for ever associating with the man was to collect the true memory about the horcruxes for Dumbledore. Now that said mission had been over with for the past year, there was no reason to ever associate with the man. It simply wasn’t needed.

“Dad is dead. Otherwise, he’d do it,” Apollonia reminded him.

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry shrugged.

They reached Slughorn’s office and the Potions Master readily agreed to provide Harry and Apollonia with the needed potions. They would need to consume the potion and then cut a drop of blood onto a clean sheet of parchment. That would reveal the truth. Both Harry and Apollonia cut their fingers and allowed a sliver of blood to drop on the parchment below. The sliver of blood rippled across the page until all his family members were displayed on the page.

“I think it’s done,” Apollonia said. “Take a look.”

Harry looked at the page, examining each and every area of the paper. In the seven years since discovering that he was a wizard, there had never been an instance in which he was allowed to discover whom he was related to. It was touted that Purebloods were related to everyone. In what way did that apply to his father? A brief examination brought to light names that he already knew were on the list: James Potter, Ignotus Peverell, Lily Potter, Petunia Dursley, and Dudley Dursley; they were the only ones he was ever made aware of, though Antioch and Cadmus were easily discerned based on the story. With the latter, it also meant that he was related to the Gaunts in a way, Voldemort included. Harry shuddered at the thought of being related, albeit distantly, to the man who wanted to kill him. “I’m related to Voldemort!” he shuddered, looking at Hermione pointedly.

“Scary thought,” she pointed out.

“Though, not farfetched considering the Tale of Three Brothers,” Apollonia pointed out. Harry and Hermione looked at her in confusion. “What? I know the story. I am a witch. But, yes, you’re related; a distant cousin I should think. And, is Slytherin there as well?”

Harry spied the parchment. “Uh, yes.”

“That explains part of the reason the Sorting Hat thought you would do well in Slytherin. You’re related to the founder; so am I actually: Ravenclaw through the Prince family. In fact, there might be a possibility where you can still speak Parseltongue. You might want to try that sometime,” Apollonia suggested. “You might not have simply gotten it from Voldemort.”

“I’ll look into it,” Harry muttered, looking back down at the parchment. He ignored the gleam in Slughorn’s eyes at the prospect of having two descendants of the founders in the Slug Club. It was as if he was plotting to pull Apollonia in. Right now, he was immersed in the parchment that lay before him, the key to his past, any distant family that might be out there. And then he spotted something he never thought to see. His grandmother, James’s mother was Dorea Black; it was a name he saw from the Black family tree, Sirius’s great-aunt. He really was related to the Blacks; related to Sirius, Andromeda, Tonks, Teddy…and Narcissa and Draco. Ugh! Related to the Malfoys. Well, that’s rather unpleasant. And, through the Blacks, it looked as if he was also related to Neville; third cousins, once removed if he calculated correctly. Apparently, his family was bigger than he first thought.

Harry examined the page a bit more and soon came across the area he was hoping wouldn’t be there. There, printed in black and white – again, to use a Muggle phrase – was the name Apollonia Snape. He looked up at said girl. “You really are my sister,” he said quietly.

“I said I was, and I wouldn’t lie,” she replied.

“And you’ve known all this time; the past year and a half?” Harry asked his sister curiously. “How were you able to hide it all that time?” Harry couldn’t help but wonder exactly how Apollonia was able to conceal such an important truth from him. She seemed to have wanted so desperately to tell him, probably tried last year at a time when Harry refused to listen. And something occurred to Harry as he was thinking. “You were trying to tell me last summer while we were at the Dursleys.” She nodded. “I guess it makes sense why you were there; it was the one place you were protected, at least until we became of age.”

“Now you’re getting it,” Apollonia praised.

Harry glared at her, so that two set of emerald eyes met. “Well, it’s kind of difficult to think straight when you’re being hunted down by some deranged distant cousin; it can make you start not thinking straight. Might want to remember that one next time, sister dear.”

“Hey!” Hermione cut in, reminding the two siblings of her presence. “Can we not argue? There are more important things in which we must worry about right now. Like those who are dead, their upcoming funerals?”

“Like Teddy,” the two said instantly.

Harry looked at his sister in confusion. “You know about Teddy?”

She nodded. “Uh, yeah; Tonks made me his godmother.”

For the second time did Harry eye Apollonia in confusion. What was this about a godmother? Remus never said anything about a godmother. Though, you were pissed at Apollonia at the time, his conscience reminded him. Of course Remus would not tell you that someone you hated was to act as godmother to the boy. And, it made sense. Why would this be mentioned? “How come?” he asked.

“Because I have connections to Narcissa and Draco,” his sister answered with a shrug. “Tonks never got to know either of them because of the whole blood purity issue the Blacks had. She didn’t want Teddy to grow up without knowing either of them. It’s where I came in.”

Harry was ready to blow up like a volcano. Allowing Teddy to come into contact with the Malfoys was an accident waiting to happen. It was utterly impossible for him to permit it, not when he was to raise the boy, with Apollonia’s help, it seemed. “No! No! No!” Harry fumed. “Do you realize what will happen if Teddy should ever come into contact with the Malfoys? I don’t care if you grew up there; I am not about to let a disaster come to pass.” Under no circumstances did Harry ever plan on letting the Malfoys come near Teddy, not so long as he was godfather. No matter what Apollonia thought, Harry was not about to let something so stupid play out. Besides, they were obsessed with blood; why else would they have sided with Voldemort, supported his beliefs, to begin with?

“I’m not back down on this, Harry,” Apollonia warned. “Teddy has the right to know Narcissa and Draco. Besides, they’re not as bad as Lucius. Narcissa helped keep me away from Voldemort, who was intent on trying to turn me into a Death Eater at the time; she also, may I remind you as you so obviously forgot at some point within the past few hours, she lied for you, gave you the opportunity to kill Voldemort. And as for Draco; well, he protected me for much of my life, even after learning that I was your sister at the beginning of last year. Plus, if I recall correctly, he helped you keep the Elder Wand away from Voldemort,” she reminded him pointedly. “Lucius, I’ll admit that Teddy should stay as far away from that man as he possibly can, but not Narcissa and Draco; not after everything they’ve done to help us.”

“I’ll consider it,” Harry replied, though he was pretty sure that he wouldn’t. “Speaking of the Malfoys, where are you staying if not with them, given what Kingsley has planned for them?”

***

Though the Slytherin understood where her brother—thank Merlin he accepted that fact as the truth, albeit with a little help from Slughorn and the genealogy potion—was coming from in regards to the Malfoys, Apollonia saw little reason to ban Teddy from seeing Narcissa and Draco throughout his life, to get to know them. Harry only saw one side of them; the cold, manipulative side. However, Apollonia was granted the opportunity, a rare chance, to see the Malfoys’ soft side; she was the only one to know what that was like, to see the Malfoys care about someone other than themselves. And the young Slytherin would see this through, try to make her brother see what she did, so that Teddy could get to know what was left of his family, not just Harry, Apollonia, and Andromeda.

Her emerald gaze flickered to the parchment before her, the one informing her of all her relatives. Many of them she knew: Tobias Snape, paternal Muggle grandfather; Eileen (Prince) Snape, paternal grandmother; Severus Snape, father; Lily (Evans) Potter, mother; Petunia (Evans) Dursley, maternal Muggle aunt; Dudley Dursley, maternal Muggle cousin; and Harry Potter, brother. But, then there were ones she had no clue about, the ones that perplexed her, never knowing about any of them: Rowena Ravenclaw, eighteen times great-grandmother; Helena Ravenclaw, seventeen times great-grandmother; Edwin Prince, paternal great-uncle; Christophe Prince, paternal first cousin, once removed; Morgan Prince, paternal second-cousin; Delaney Prince, paternal second-cousin; and Zara Prince, paternal second-cousin. Those were the names that she knew nothing about.

The last five, she supposed, was possible; Eileen Prince was disowned from the family for marrying a Muggle. As a result, nothing was ever said about the obvious brother she had, resulting in the second branch of the Prince family. It meant that there were members of Apollonia’s family yet, that she still needed to meet; people she could still get to know. There was a chance that she could still have a family aside from Harry; a possibility still existed in which this was even remotely possible. Regarding Rowena and Helena Ravenclaw; well, she didn’t know how that was ever going to work; both of them were long dead by now, a thousand years too late, and Apollonia would be incapable to get to know either of them.

“Hey, Apollonia!” her brother called.

She looked up. “Hmm?”

“You said you were a descendant of Ravenclaw, right?”

Apollonia nodded. “Uh, yeah; why?”

“I think you might want to see something,” he explained.

Hermione’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, obviously understanding what Harry meant by such a vague statement better than Apollonia. “Oh, yes! I think talking to her would help immensely.”

The trio waved goodbye to a beleaguered Slughorn, grabbing the genealogy reports on their way by, and raced through the corridors, finally stopping in front of a ghost who Apollonia only vaguely recognized as Ravenclaw’s ghost: the Grey Lady. “Why are we here?” Apollonia questioned. “Harry, Hermione, exactly what is going on here?”

Before the Slytherin could get a response, the Grey Lady looked down and frowned slightly. “Oh! What are you doing here again?” the usually quiet ghost asked politely.

“Mam,” Harry started, “I am sorry to bother you again, especially so soon, but I thought you might want to know something, something we only recently discovered, you see.”

The Grey Lady regarded Harry contemplatively. It remained this way for a few minutes as Apollonia and Hermione exchanged rather confused glances before the young ghost said anything in response to Harry: “If this is about the diadem, again…so help me, I’ll…”

“No, no; nothing like that,” Harry assured her.

“Then, why are you here?” she wondered.

“Tell me, did you have any children?” he asked.

“A son and two daughters, why?” the Grey Lady asked.

“Do you know what became of any of them?” Harry asked.

The ghost shook her head. “I died before I knew.”

“I thought as much,” Harry mused.

By this point, Apollonia was getting ready annoyed. What did this have to do with what Harry wanted to show her? Did Harry really just bring her out here to speak with the Grey Lady? “Harry, explain!” she shouted. “Tell me the exact reason you decided to bring me here.”

Harry nodded. “In a moment.” That moment passed and Apollonia glared at her brother, trying to figure out what was going on. “Apollonia, meet Helena Ravenclaw. Helena, meet my sister, Apollonia Lily Evans Snape, your seventeen-times great-granddaughter.”

And, just like that, her prayers were answered. There was a chance to know at least one of the Ravenclaws. It was kind of funny; she spent seven years here at Hogwarts, never knowing that one of the ghosts she passed every so often in the hall was a relative. It was only thanks to Harry, thanks to his unreasonable request for her to prove that she was his sister; that allowed for Apollonia to find her ghostly relative. “Thank you, Harry; thank you for helping me find her. And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thanks for asking me to give you evidence that I’m your sister. If it wasn’t for that, I might never have realized that I was related to the Ravenclaw ghost.” It was the only thing that even made Apollonia remotely glad that Harry did thus, because it helped her as well; it gave the young Snape a chance to get to know what was left of her somewhat broken family.

“So, you are a relative of mine?” Helena asked.

Apollonia nodded. “A thousand years later, yes.”

“Was there not another Snape?” she asked.

“My father,” Apollonia answered.

“I see,” the ghostly figure said, almost contemplatively. It was a relative of hers, after all. “I have not seen him since the battle ended early this morning. Did something happen to him?”

“He died,” Apollonia said quietly, for it hurt to think about it. Both her parents were gone, along with her step-father; it was not exactly what Apollonia wished to see happen. “About an hour or so into the battle. In fact, I watched it occur myself, saw him take his final breath.”

“You were there?” Harry exclaimed incredulously.

Apollonia nodded, almost forgetting that Harry hadn’t seen her while listening in one her father’s and Voldemort’s conversation about the Elder Wand, a pointless conversation, since it turned out that Draco became the master of the Elder Wand that night—Apollonia still couldn’t understand that one—for the next ten months before Harry disarmed him and defeated Voldemort. “Uh, yeah, Harry; Draco and I were standing just outside the window, watching the whole exchange. I know how Dad died. I was around for a lot of what happened, most of which I was under the disillusionment for.” Apollonia recounted what she was there for. “Um…there was the Carrows’ capture followed by Dad’s escape from Hogwarts; the incident with Crabbe in the Room of Requirement regarding Ravenclaw’s diadem, an object that technically belongs to me now, about it being turned into a horcrux—and yes, I know all about that; you and Slughorn helped with that one—by Riddle; Fred’s death; Dad’s death; Narcissa lying to protect you from death; and of course the final confrontation with Voldemort; I was there for it all, I’m afraid.”

Harry stared at her, stunned. “You were there for all that?”

“A lot; I know,” Apollonia admitted.

“No, I’m talking about the fact that you’re still alive and unharmed,” Harry elaborated. “Most everyone involved in the battle, even Malfoy, got harmed in some way or another. Not you though.”

“Disillusionment,” Apollonia said again. “I got quite good at it, especially considering the fact that I was no longer invisible once the Carrows arrived at the school to force their biased views on the school, and Dad felt the need to tell the student body that I was his daughter when he made that announcement that Draco and I were Head Boy and Girl for the year.”

“You were Head Girl?” Harry asked.

“Like Mum,” Apollonia said proudly. There had always been a comparison made by her father between the two. Her status as Head Girl only reaffirmed that sentiment. And there was one more thing that Apollonia felt the need to remind her brother of. “If you remember, Harry, a lot of the times a couple married after being Head Boy and Girl together.” Based on Draco’s confession after her father’s death, Apollonia felt the need to mention this to her brother; he might need to know that. If she was anything like Lily Potter, then it would happen the same way.

“Huh? Wait…who did you say…oh, Malfoy?”

Five, four, three, two, one…

“No way! Not a chance. No sister of mine is ever going to date Malfoy,” Harry insisted. “Not after all that he’s done to me over the years, all that I’ve suffered through because of him.”

The Slytherin knew this was coming, completely expected it after the way he exploded at the suggestion of Teddy spending time with Narcissa or Draco. But, she had the best way of approaching it. She pulled out her wand and cast the one spell she was sure would help explain everything. “Expecto Patronum!” she called, allowing her dragon patronus to burst out of her wand.

“What the…oh!”

“That’s right, oh!” Apollonia reminded him. “Remember what you said. It was you who introduced the concept that I might be in love with Draco. I warned you against it, trying to make you understand what you were doing; I tried to tell you right then and there, that I was your sister. You didn’t exactly get it, my dense brother. And, might I also just point something out to you, Harry; yes, the form represents Draco, for I always knew that it would. However, the breed is you; the Chinese Fireball, otherwise known as the liondragon. Really, you say you saw one when Viktor Krum battled one during the first task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, however, I bet you don’t remember its looks: scarlet and gold, like the Gryffindor colors and a mane like a lion, its mascot; my patronus, Harry, took on attributes from the two most important people in my life: you and Draco.” She grinned and chuckled as the dragon disappeared. “Funny, I don’t see any of Dad in here anywhere. It almost seems as if you and Draco were more important than him.”

“So, it’s my fault then?” Harry asked.

“Yours and Hermione’s,” she corrected.

“What? How?” he asked.

“If a Slytherin such as myself can notice how much those two love each other, I think everyone can,” she said, hoping her brother remembered those words from what seemed like ages ago.

It seemed he did. “If a Gryffindor such as myself can notice how much those two love each other, I think everyone can,” Harry mocked, adding his own twist on the words. “Oh, yeah. Almost forgot that.”

“Clearly,” Apollonia scoffed.

Hermione eyed them both. “What are you talking about?’

It was odd to see Hermione so confused, to not understand something immediately. Only the patronus was ever like that, or so she heard. Even Helena took pity on the muggleborn, explaining what was said. Apparently, even she knew. “If a Slytherin such as myself can see how much those two love each other, I think everyone can,” Helena quoted softly. “She means you, dear.”

“Me? How?” Hermione asked.

Apollonia took this one. “Everyone in Gryffindor could see that you were jealous over the fact that Ron was dating Lavender Brown. The fact that I could see it as well—a rival house, mind you—simply points out that the love between you was obvious. Since the Yule Ball, in fact.” The same time Draco fell in love with me, Apollonia recalled with mild interest.

“And how does that factor in to what you two are talking about over there?” Hermione asked, again confused by what was being explained here. She didn’t quite get what was going on She was not so good with relationships, instead preferring to stick her nose in a book.

“Before I realized she was my sister,” Harry elaborated, “I flat out told her that she was in love with Malfoy. It was a reference to what she said about you and Ron. And, after that, she mentioned something about one day regretting what I did. I didn’t quite get that until now.”

“As well you should,” Apollonia told him.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Harry murmured.

“Then no more bashing Draco,” Apollonia told him. “And, I should probably warn you, Harry, that Draco told me that he’s been in love with me since the Yule Ball in our fourth year.”

“Argh!”

It was much too easy in bothering her brother about Draco; he was simply asking for. And then, Apollonia remembered the question that started this whole conversation about Draco. He’s probably waiting for an answer anyway; has been for the last five minutes, I’d wagerare happening, especially the . “Oh, and by the way, Harry,” she said lightly, “I’m not exactly as unharmed as you think I am. Maybe not physically as most of the others—those who were actually fighting the battles—were, but rather emotionally. Dad died, and I’m still having difficulty getting past that fact. It’s probably going to be even worse when he’s buried.”

“Here at Hogwarts?” Harry asked.

“It’s not the same without him,” she answered.

“Just like old times,” Harry muttered.