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IN ANOTHER LIFE (HP)

Severus Snape finds himself rising from his near deathbed into the past, as a female 10 year old version of himself in another parallel world, where secondary genders exist.

NobleVillainess · 書籍·文学
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36 Chs

Chapter 31- Summer Letters

The Prince family Manor was a serene place of ancient magic and grandeur, a far cry from the turmoil that Serena had recently endured. The last several days had been a whirlwind of recounting the kidnapping ordeal to the Auror's establishment, ensuring the safety of the other captives, stating their testimonies via Floo calls, and adjusting to the quiet life within the tall, stone walls of her ancestral home.

Serena's room, a spacious area with a large desk by the window overlooking the lush gardens, had become her sanctuary. She was seated there now, going through the pile of letters that had accumulated during her more pressing engagements. The presence of the persistent owl, sleek and black with intelligent eyes, was a constant reminder of the outside world's curiosity about her recent adventures.

She picked up the first letter, recognizing Lily's handwriting, and gently broke the wax with her thumb. 

~~~

Dear Serena,

I hope this letter finds you well! What have you been doing? I'm dying to know, and I'm honestly a bit, well… concerned after the way things transpired at King's Cross. One moment we were all saying our goodbyes, looking forward to a summer full of plans, and the next, your mother whisked you away somewhere other than Spinner's End without a word! None of us saw it coming, and I've been really worried ever since!

My Mum had asked your mother about your well-being when she noticed you hadn't shown up at our usual spot in the park. I heard she only relayed that you are spending time with your grandparents, but nothing more. Why didn't you tell me about them before? I had to beg Mum to even ask where your current address was, and you know how I hate to nag her.

My own summer has been quite the typical domestic circus. Petunia is becoming more unbearable by the day, especially now with that new suitor of hers—Dursley. He's a bad influence on her, and I hope she doesn't accept him; he's as pleasant as a Blast-Ended Skrewt. I've been trying to keep myself occupied with some light reading and practicing a few spells, but it's not the same without our adventures or your sly comments on my attempts at potion-making.

You've been on my mind a lot, Rena. I miss our talks and your one-of-a-kind humor. I was really looking forward to this summer, to spending time together and sharing our Hogwarts tales without the prying eyes of the school corridors. 

I'm genuinely baffled by your sudden disappearance and your silence. Why haven't you written yet? Did something happen? I find myself grappling with questions and no answers. I'm not just your friend, Serena; I care about you. We all do, so send us a sign that you're okay.

Please, write back soon. Visit here too, will you? Tell me about your grandparents, what kind of people they are, and what magic runs through that side of your family. I'm eager to hear all about your new surroundings. Most importantly, I need to know that you're okay.

Take care of yourself, Rena. Remember, you are not alone, no matter how distant you might feel right now. I'll be waiting for your reply with bated breath. 

Missing you,

Lily

~~~

Serena's fingers lingered on the parchment, the ink from Lily's letter slightly smudged where her friend's fervent scribbling had barely dried before folding. The warm glow of the candle lit the room, casting shadows that danced across the walls of the Prince family mansion's luxurious bedroom. She could almost hear Lily's voice through the words, the concern and curiosity that were so characteristic of her. For a fleeting moment, her mind tiptoed towards the figure of her mother, who had left her in this grand but unfamiliar environment. What was she thinking? Did she feel relief, guilt, or was it indifference that had eased her steps away from Serena and back to Tobias Snape? The questions scratched at the door of Serena's thoughts, seeking entry, but she reinforced the lock, not ready to face the potential answers. The sting of abandonment still felt too fresh, too raw.

No, brushing away the beginnings of a frown with a determined hand. Not now.

She straightened her posture, the crisp fabric of her dress rustling softly as she settled at the writing desk. Pulling a fresh sheet of parchment towards her, she dipped the quill into the bottle of ink and began to write.

Serena assures Lily that she is in good health and adjusting to her new surroundings. She reveals that she has discovered she is the official heir to the Prince family and will be staying with her grandparents from now on. Serena chooses not to share the details of her recent experiences in Knockturn Alley, wanting to spare Lily from additional concerns. She expresses her eagerness to discuss everything in person and asks Lily to enjoy her summer and send her regards to the family. She seals the letter and opens the next two letters from Evelyn and Lucius.

~~~

Dear Serena,

Greetings from sunny France! I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. I had to track down Lily for your address – you've become quite the elusive one, haven't you? I'm glad she knew how to reach you.

My summer has been an adventure to say the least. I told you right? That my parents decided a trip to France was in order, and who am I to argue with a chance to see the wizarding world outside of Britain? Paris is every bit as beautiful as they say, although I must admit, the locals can be quite… let's say, sure of themselves. But I suppose that's true in every magical community.

I've been exploring the wizarding quarters here and it's absolutely astonishing. The shops, the cafes, and even the street performers are unlike anything back home. I've seen spells and potions here that I didn't even know existed! It's been quite the education.

How is your summer unfolding? I can't help but wonder how you're spending your days. Have you received many letters from our classmates? If you'd like, I can send you a souvenir – just name it. Perhaps something magically chic from Paris? Or maybe a rare potion ingredient that can't be found in Diagon Alley?

I'm sending you all my best wishes and looking forward to hearing from you soon. Please, don't keep me waiting too long; I'm eager to exchange stories and hear about your own summer adventures.

Take care and write back soon!

Warm regards,

Evelyn

~~~

Dear Serena,

I must say, getting your address from Lily was an unexpected task. I understand the desire for privacy, but really, you've had us all worried. A little correspondence would have spared your friends from unnecessary concern.

I trust this letter finds you well. As for myself, the summer has been nothing short of eventful. The Malfoys and the Blacks are in the throes of planning the engagement party. The affair promises to be grand, with both families striving to outdo each other – you can imagine the chaos.

I haven't seen Sirius since the term ended; his absence only serves to make the prospect of the engagement party more intriguing. I must admit, I'm somewhat looking forward to seeing his reaction to the entire spectacle. It's not every day one finds oneself betrothed to a Black.

I do wish you could attend, but alas, our families are quite stringent with their pureblood traditionalism. Nonetheless, Evelyn and Barty will be present, so that's a small comfort. I imagine the gathering will provide ample opportunity for me to continue my little game of teasing Sirius. Despite his initial judgments of me, I find his reactions rather amusing – but don't tell him that.

Write back soon, Serena. Your silence is unbecoming, and we all miss your presence. Until then, I shall content myself with the thought of a grand party and the potential for a Sirius apology (though I won't hold my breath).

With regards,

Lucius Malfoy

~~~

As Serena finished reading Evelyn's and Lucius' letter, she wrote the both of them similar replies that she had written to Lily. Telling them everything about her new family, becoming a Potion Master, and keeping her kidnapping experience out until they meet once again in person. 

Serena moved on to read two more letters from the Potion Master's association and an unexpected person. 

~~~

Dear Miss Prince,

Congratulations on Your Monumental Achievement!

We are writing to extend our sincerest congratulations on your recent accomplishment. On behalf of the Potion Master's Association, it is with great pleasure that we welcome you into our esteemed ranks as a full-fledged member.

We commend you on your extraordinary achievement of becoming the youngest Potion Master in the history of our association—an accolade that speaks volumes of your dedication, skill, and intellectual prowess.

Membership Privileges and Connections

As a member of the Potion Master's Association, you are now privy to a myriad of benefits designed to aid you in your continued pursuit of potion-making excellence. Our association is proud to offer you:

- Exclusive access to our network of renowned Potion Masters and apothecaries worldwide.

- A comprehensive list of connections, allowing you to procure rare and valuable potion ingredients at preferential rates.

- Invitations to members-only symposiums, workshops, and events where you can share knowledge and learn from the experiences of other potion aficionados.

- Subscription to our quarterly journal, "The Elixir Examiner," which highlights the latest advancements and discoveries in potion-making.

Membership Responsibilities and Code of Conduct

As a member of our prestigious association, it is imperative that you adhere to the highest standards of conduct and ethics as outlined in our code. This includes:

- Abstaining from any illegal activities or forbidden practices related to potion-making.

- Ensuring that all your potion creations are original, safe, and comply with the standards set forth by the Wizarding authorities.

- Upholding the integrity and reputation of the Potion Master's Association through your professional endeavors.

Final Requirement for Official Recognition

In addition to the aforementioned privileges and responsibilities, there is one final requirement to achieve official recognition as a Potion Master within our community. Within the next five years, you are tasked with the invention of a unique potion—a testament to your innovation and mastery of the craft. This creation should be of practical use and contribute positively to the field of potion-making.

We eagerly await your confirmation of acceptance of these terms and look forward to bearing witness to your future contributions to the world of potions.

Please do not hesitate to reach out should you have any questions or require further clarification regarding your membership.

Once again, congratulations on your remarkable achievement. We wish you the very best in your endeavors and are confident that you will continue to bring honor to the art and science of potion-making.

Yours sincerely,

Horatio B. Everbrew

Chairman

Potion Masters Association

[Enclosed: List of connections and discounts, Membership Guide, Code of Conduct booklet]

~~~

Serena expected the letter from the Potion Master's Association because she knew of the final requirement that she needed to do before being able to be recognized by the rest of the official members—the Potion Masters. It's to invent her own Potion. She would have no problems with that requirement. She did it before and it won't even take five years this time. 

~~~

Dear Serena Prince,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits after the harrowing ordeal we have both endured. My name is Charity Burbage, and I am writing to you with a heart full of gratitude and the deepest thanks that words can scarcely convey.

It is with a trembling hand and a hopeful heart that I recount the terrifying experience that befell me. Just a few days ago, I found myself disoriented at the edge of Diagon Alley, separated from my family. A seemingly kind witch offered assistance, only to lead me to an isolated area where darkness descended upon me, both literally and metaphorically. I was knocked unconscious, and when I awoke, I found myself trapped in a nightmare.

For three interminable days, I was confined in a cell, surrounded by others as frightened and helpless as myself. We were starved, not just of food, but of hope. Despair began to take hold, and it was in my darkest moment that I heard a soft voice—a voice that cut through the gloom with a promise of salvation. I clung to that slender thread of hope, and miraculously, it held.

The promise was kept. Just as I was dragged onto a stage, facing a fate too cruel to contemplate, I was rescued by Aurors. The relief that washed over me was so profound that tears of joy and thankfulness were my only response.

Through fervent inquiries, I learned your name, Serena Prince, and your partner in crime, James Potter, the two to whom I owe my freedom and perhaps much more. 

I am eagerly awaiting the opportunity to meet you two in person upon our return to Hogwarts, where I will be entering my sixth year as a Hufflepuff student. It is my sincerest wish to extend my thanks face to face and to forge friendships with my saviors.

Until we meet within the halls of our beloved school, please accept this letter as a small token of my immense appreciation. You have given me a gift beyond measure—the chance to continue my story when all seemed lost.

I bid you farewell for now, and look forward to the day when I can express my gratitude in person. Until then, I remain,

Yours in deep thankfulness and admiration,

Charity Burbage

~~~

The parchment trembled slightly in Serena's hands, the words of Charity Burbage etched deep with gratitude and relief. As she read, the ghost of her previous life flickered in the background of her consciousness, a stark reminder of failures and debts unpaid.

The room around her seemed to grow still, the only sound was the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. Her eyes traced over Charity's recounting of the ordeal, the fear and hopelessness that had been so palpably replaced by the little warmth and safety that Serena had helped provide on impulse. But the words stuck in her throat like a knot she couldn't swallow.

Tears welled up, spilling over as she read on, each sentence punctuating the stark contrast between her actions now and the inaction of her past. She had saved Charity, yes, but the praise felt like it was for someone else, someone who hadn't borne witness to the same person's demise under a different, darker sky.

Serena's sobs were a silent affair, her shoulders shaking as she allowed herself a moment of weakness, a moment of pure, unadulterated relief that, in this life, she had made a difference. The shame came as a tide, washing over her - for how could she accept thanks for simply righting the wrongs of a previous existence?

She wanted to write back, to pour her soul into words and ask for forgiveness for sins Charity didn't even know had been committed against her. But she couldn't. Not without revealing a truth that was hers alone to bear.

Instead, she clung to the brighter thread woven into the tapestry of her current life: Charity Burbage was safe. And it was not just atonement; it was a vow renewed, a silent promise that Serena made to herself and to the memory of what had once been.

Serena wiped her tears, steeling herself once more. She would write to Charity, yes, but not of past lives and guilt. She would offer friendship and support, a beacon of strength that the young Hufflepuff could rely on in the years to come.

~~~

If being an Omega made her this emotional, Serena didn't even want to think about how much more emotionally unstable she would become during her first heat. 

Great Merlin, help her. She didn't even start reading Potter's letters yet. And the bloody tosser sent her three! What does he have to say that needs him to send a letter every bloody two days?!

Serena glared at the letters. It's not like she can just throw them out and call it a day, when an impatient black owl was glaring at her, perched on her window. It even seemed to be mad that she left Potter's letters for last. 

With a long sigh, Serena opened the blasted letters one by one.

~~~

Dear Serena,

Salutations to the bravest and most enchanting witch I know! Godric Gryffindor (and me, of course) would have loved to have you in its house. It's only been two days since our Knockturn Alley adventure, and I'm already missing your company. Do you miss me too?

Oh, and can you believe it? I've been grounded for five days as a result of our little adventure. With nothing to do, I've been bored out of my mind. Is it our fault that we got kidnapped? ….Never mind, don't answer that. 

My parents have been busy preparing for that upcoming engagement party. They reckon they've found the perfect gift, but I'm left wondering if I should seek out a companion of my own. Perhaps a bowtruckle like Bowe, or do you think a familiar dragon would be more my style? (Don't worry, I'm only half-serious about the dragon... or am I?) It sounds mad, but imagine how wicked that would be!

Feel free to write back, but no pressure – after all, we're future life partners, yeah? Until then, I'll be counting the days.

Stay beautiful, and don't forget to have a little fun – for both our sakes.

Ever so curiously yours,

James

~~~

Serena's slender fingers paused over the parchment of the first letter, an elegant eyebrow arching skeptically as she read James Potter's latest musings. 

"A dragon, Potter? Really?" she murmured with a scoff, her voice a melodic blend of amusement and exasperation. "As if the chaos you conjure isn't enough, you aspire to add a fire-breathing beast into the mix."

She shook her head, a hint of smile tugging at the corners of her red lips.

The notion of James Potter trying to tame a dragon was ludicrous, and yet, knowing his adventurous and often reckless nature, it was a possibility that couldn't be entirely dismissed. The idea that he seriously considered her as his life partner was even more far-fetched—a maddening assumption that he seemed to entertain with an unwarranted confidence. 

Her gaze flickered with irritation as she set the first letter aside, reaching for the second with another sense of foreboding. 

~~~

To my future Wife,

It's me again. It's been four days since we last saw each other, but I hope this letter finds you amidst less dramatic circumstances. I'll have you know, I've recently embarked on a quest to find a bowtruckle companion of my own. Don't worry, I'm a professional at sneaking out. Equipped with my broom and a pocketful of hope, I ventured deep into the woods near Godric's Hollow. I thought it would be a piece of cake. It wasn't. Those bowtruckles were less than cooperative. Not a single one dared to come close to me, which seems quite unfair considering Bowe's amiable nature. But fear not, I shall not be deterred so easily – there will be a next time.

Good news though! Tomorrow, Remus and Peter are coming over to cause some mischief and lift the spirits of this grounded soul. It would be just brilliant if you could join us. Godric's Hollow could certainly use a touch of your unique charm.

Do you miss me as I miss you? Write back and tell me all.

Your future Husband,

James Potter

~~~

As she read the lines about his fruitless attempt to find a bowtruckle companion, a feeling of smug satisfaction settled within her. "Not so easy to charm all creatures, is it, Potter?" she whispered.

Ignoring his invitation to Godric's Hollow and his absurd reference to her as his 'future wife,' Serena's thoughts drifted momentarily to her own bowtruckle, Bowe, who peeked out from behind a stack of books with curious eyes. She had no interest in sharing the joys of a bowtruckle's companionship with James, especially not with the way he casually mentioned it amidst his fantasies of their future.

~~~

My Dearest Siren,

Our tale of Diagon Alley has been recounted to Remus and Peter, and of course, they were super impressed with our daring escape! I can't help thinking we're a pretty awesome team, you and me.

The three of us have been up to all sorts of fun stuff, broom flights and harmless pranks. Naturally, we've all ended up in a spot of trouble here and there, but it was well worth it for the desserts that followed. Speaking of which, we've been enjoying a rather splendid mango cake – a treat I'm sure you would love. I even saved some just for you. Surely, you want to visit now, yeah?

I've been relentless in my efforts to persuade my parents to set a date for your visit, but if that's too slow, I could come to you instead? Let me know what you think; I'm equally excited for either.

By the way, Noire, our family owl, I suspect he will be waiting for a reply this time. He was quite offended the last two times he came back without much of a reply letter. He's quite serious about his job, you know? Between you and me, he's not the type to give up easily. I sometimes wonder where he got that from.

A small piece of bread as a reward wouldn't go amiss. He's quite fond of it. Who knew that even the most formidable of owls could succumb to the simple pleasures of a well-baked loaf?

Eagerly your drowning Sailor,

James Fleamont Potter

P.S. – Remember, despite his frown, Noire's a softie at heart. A bit of kindness, and he'll be as loyal as they come. Much like someone else we both know, wouldn't you say?

~~~

The third letter lay in Serena's hands, her expression impassive. The mention of a mango cake did little to tempt her; she was not one to be lured by sweet offerings, especially when they came from James Potter. 

"Imaginative as always," she sighed, the parchment rustling as she set it down. "But I won't be baited by desserts or endearments, Potter." The thought of visiting the Potters filled her with a mix of curiosity and dread, the latter stemming from the inevitable interaction with the ever-enthusiastic James.

As her eyes scanned the final lines about the family owl, Noire, and its penchant for bread, a rare chuckle escaped her. The comparison to someone they both knew was not lost on her, and for a fleeting moment, she allowed herself the indulgence of picturing a drowning James, caused by her own false melodies—a thought that brought a spark of mischief to her eyes.

Rising from her seat, Serena moved to the window, feeding Noire seedlings and bread. She knew she would have to craft a response, if only to maintain a semblance of civility. But for now, she let the tranquility of the twilight soothe her ruffled feathers, her mind already weaving words sharp enough to match wits with James Potter.

For she knew criticism simply bounced off him.