Disclaimer: Rowling owns many things.

1998-2002

Snake in the Chestnut

One Dad

1990-1998

7th September, 1998

"At that very moment, Gryffindor felt something heavy in his hand – a ruby sword had just appeared. For the hat wasn't just a simple old piece of clothing – it was an artefact from ancient times, and the sword was waiting for a Gryffindor to wield it. The hat wishing him luck, sword brandished in his hand, Gryffindor stood straight to face the Basilisk and the evil wizard.

"The Basilisk hissed viciously, blinded, but still as dangerous as ever before. The evil wizard laughed – he didn't believe that even a blinded Basilisk could lose. The Gryffindor brandished his sword and met the lunging Serpent mid strike. The blade sank deep into Basilisk's skin. However, at the very moment, a sharp fang managed to pierce the Gryffindor's arm. The King of Serpents fell down with a great crash, whereas the Gryffindor staggered back a few steps, the deadly poison in his veins spreading at a lightning speed." Her voice turned into a whisper as the baby girl fell asleep.

"You shouldn't have told her that tale." A tired man's voice, sounding both embarrassed and warm at the same time.

"Yet it does wonders for her sleep," she laughed, "and the hero is saved by the flaming Phoenix in the end."

7th July, 1996

Harry woke up calmly, yet the dream was already slipping past his fingers. There was a baby... and someone's warm voice... and... the basilisk...

He rolled onto the other side. The dream was becoming more frequent, yet he still couldn't remember their faces, nor anything else beside some snippets. It felt like recalling them was important, but in his dream, he never saw them clear enough to even try.

It was near the Veil when he had heard the muffled voice for the first time. This time there was no Phoenix to save him... The sounds of someone's breathing. Our sweet chestnut. Yet his friends didn't let him listen to them.

The Veil.

Sirius.

There was a gust of wind that appeared out of nowhere when his godfather fell through. The wind brushed past him, leaving a lingering feel of someone ruffling Harry's hair lightly. As if a loving embrace of a father.

Since that moment, he dreamt the same dream at least once each week.

31th October, 2003

A question no one really wants to know the true answer to - what would you do if you had but minutes to live?

A Gryffindor would say that those minutes should be spent fighting for one's life.

A Ravenclaw would claim that one should pass along a mark, a word, a drop of wisdom, anything that could be left to the world.

A Slytherin would bring down as many as possible with his fall.

A Hufflepuff, though, would simply say that all his life was already lived as if there were minutes left.

Yet, it wasn't a question that was asked of one Harry Potter on the All Hallows' Eve.

What would you do, if you were dead, but your body didn't realize it yet? What steps would you take, if there was a deadly poison in your veins?

It seemed that a lifetime ago, he chose to stagger forward and stab a diary.

This time there was no Phoenix to save him. His wand was snapped. His left arm – broken.

Yet, there was one thing he still had to do, a step he had to take, before...

He raised his foot, taking an unexplainable delight in glimmer of fear in Tom's red eyes. He earned all that fear throughout his life. But then, he forgot everything that wasn't important.

He reached out to her, ruffled her hair. "Live, our sweet chestnut, live."

Her radiant green eyes glistened with tears, and her small arm reached out for him.

"I will be with you forever," were his last words. The magic flared.

His soul burned brighter than the sun.

Every wizard and muggle always has a spark of magic, a drop of power, hidden inside his or her body. It is no centre, no core, and no reservoir. It just is... A part of a soul, perhaps even the soul itself.

Soul magic was a dangerous, uncharted territory - any rituals, both light and dark were few, complex and risky - one doesn't just fool around one's soul without dangers and consequences. Yet, sometimes, once in a million times, the soul listened, and answered the call.

Severus had asked the madman to leave Lily alive, and thus, unknowingly given her the chance to offer her soul to block the unblockable.

Tom had given Harry the same chance by taking his mother's blood. By arriving at Halloween. By unknowingly hiding a part of his soul inside the scar.

Tom waited until the Potter brat stilled and only then did he cast the spell, he probably should have learned not to aim at children. Especially at Potter children born in summer. Especially at Halloween. With a wand having a Phoenix feather core.

The backlash shattered everything.

0000

The world was shaking, and the images were spinning around, like thousands of paint buckets were being splashed everywhere.

Yet, she wasn't afraid - there was a soothing presence swirling around her, whispering calming words. Her father and her mother; the grandparents she never had a chance to talk to; her favourite and only aunt.

The swirling world showed her silent images that touched her childish heart, leaving numerous echoes. It was a small boy, crying in the cupboard. A bigger boy with a strange hat on his head. The same boy, fighting a serpent king - she recognised her favourite fairy tale. Just... it didn't look like a fairy tale should have looked. She began to cry as the boy collapsed in the train. As his friend dropped beside him; as he was looking at her, from behind the Veil.

He looked similar enough to be recognised fully and she sobbed some more.

She watched her young father trying to sleep, but not being able to, as he was thinking about his godfather's death. The tears were staining the lone pillow.

He would probably have sped past her, never to be seen again, but she reached out at him with her little white hands and whispered between her tears. "Dad..."

There was a loud pop of apparition and she stood in the castle she had seen in the visions. Yet, it didn't look that her father was around anymore.

"What are...?" The warm female voice broke at the sight of wailing little girl. "Why are you crying?"

The little girl in question just raised her head and her mouth widened. She launched herself forward as fast as her little feet carried her and wrapped her tiny hands around the stunned slytherin.

"Tori." the four year old whispered between the sobs. "Tori..."

7th September, 1996

Daphne Greengrass wasn't famous for neither her contempt nor her ability to feel for others - she liked to be left alone and untouched. Her schoolmates had usually obliged, leaving her to her own devices, and she herself only reached out to only a select few - namely her younger sister and Tracey Davis.

But, when she almost slammed into a tiny child in one of the many castle corridors, her ignorant attitude melted as if it was never there, as if the child was already in her small circle of friends and family.

When the child launched herself at Daphne, she just stood there, not daring to move.

"Tori..." came a whisper, said with a weak voice.

Daphne reached out to the crying girl, touching her short and unruly dark brown hair. Daphne couldn't remember if there ever was a four year old child Astoria could be familiar with. Trying to shed some light on the mystery and slightly dreading to point out that the kid caught the wrong sister, she tried gathering more info. "What is your name?"

"Tori? But..." the wide green eyes looked up, hurt shining in between the tears. "You are not Tori."

"No," Greengrass admitted, "I'm her sister. Do you want to look for Astoria?"

"I need daddy." She said as if it explained everything. "Daddy is hurt."

"Who is your dad?" she asked, curiously, absentmindedly stroking the girl's hair. It looked like she started to calm down.

"Can't tell. Taboo."

"Taboo curse?" Daphne blinked – it was an obscure, yet powerful magic, still, she remembered it being mostly a theoretical exercise and speculation more than a real spell. "This is Hogwarts, it's safe here – you can say it."

"Tori said not to."

"Can you say your name?"

She nodded, one hand occupied with cleaning her tears and the other still clutching Daphne.

"Well?"

"Karya." Came another whisper.

"A beautiful name." Greek, like everyone in her family – Daphne realised, getting on her knees, closer to the small girl. "Any last name?"

"Taboo."

"Karya Taboo?"

"No!" The child looked appalled. "No one calls me that."

"What do they call you?"

"Chestnut."

Daphne laughed and they both shared a small smile.

"Where do you live?" She resumed her questioning while stroking the girls back.

"London." She started sobbing again. "Daddy's there. He's hurt."

Daphne grabbed her in a hug of her own. "Don't worry, chestnut, we will find him. Do you know where your mother is?"

"I don't have one now." Came a reply. "She's in a better place." The last sentence felt as if it was a quote.

"Is her name under a taboo too?"

"No... I call her Mum..."

"Why?"

"Tori and Dad are sad when I say her name."

"Why? What happened to her?"

"I am not old enough." Another rehearsed phrase. "I want to be older. Like seven."

"How old are you now?"

She raised four fingers, but then realised that due to her hands being behind Daphne, the older girl couldn't understand. "Four."

"A big girl, then."

The 'big girl' laughed behind her tears. "Tori calls me that."

"It's probably the truth, then." Daphne wiggled herself out of the hold, and offered Karya her hand. "We should go and see the headmaster."

The girl latched onto it like her life depended on it.

They both carried onto the hallways, Daphne silently praying that not a single student would see her in such a compromising position.

The dark green robes of the girl were swirling slowly with their silent steps. With pang of horror, Daphne realised that the dark stains on the little robes could have been nothing else but blood. What had this child seen? Who was she? Astoria apparently knew her, and the girl looked familiar enough to be a relative – the pale complexion and the famous Greengrass grace, followed with dark brown hair she saw in the mirror every day.

7th September, 1996

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was just about to say goodbye to Harry Potter, when he felt the gargoyle announcing an approaching presence.

"Sir, how exactly -?"

"Too late, Harry! And I even have two visitors to greet. You shall hear the story another time. Good night."

"Good night, sir."

The door opened before Harry could reach it, and two girls entered hand in hand. It was a beautiful Slytherin, he couldn't recall the full name of – Harry was almost sure her surname was Greengrass – and a small cute girl, at most five years of age. With brown messy hair, reminding him of his own unruly mop, a stunningly green eyes and round white face. Probably a little sister– both girls had the same nose and the same hair colour. The only huge difference was in the way they kept their hair – Greengrass wore hers straight and long, whereas the little girl's crow nest was a few times shorter.

Daphne staggered slightly – of all people, him to see her with the girl in hand. She tried to gather the Slytherin indifference back to her expression, but the warm hand just didn't let her. "Harry?" She let out, forgetting to call him Potter.

But it didn't matter as no one paid attention to that slip – the girls eyes widened, and the tears that had already been dealt with along the way, appeared again. Karya tore her hand away from Daphne's grip and ran towards the Gryffindor.

Harry shivered, and jumped forward to meet her midway, falling onto his knees before her and engulfing the little girl in a hug.

Daphne opened her mouth in surprise. Albus eyes were twinkling.

But Harry looked like he wasn't there – his eyes glowed deep vibrant green as he whispered, "Our sweet chestnut..."

"I.." the girl sobbed into his chest. "You were gone!"

"I said that I would be with you."

"Dad..."

He was tracing a heart on her back with his fingertips, ignoring the shocked stares of both Headmaster and Daphne, who still hadn't closed her mouth.

"You are a brave girl, Lily."

She snuggled closer to him – her father rarely used her middle name, only when she was exceptionally sad.

"It will be hard for you, but you will manage."

"Dad?" She didn't understand. "What are you...?"

There was a swirl of wind.

"Be good to your mother." Harry was smiling, the green light in his eyes disappearing slowly. "Don't be angry when we don't remember."

"My mother?" She was clutching to him as if he would disappear any second.

"I will be with you forever, Karya." He shifted to kiss the top of her head. The radiant green in his eyes disappeared and Harry staggered in place, his expression changing to the one in surprise and confusion.

There was a little girl clutching to him. Who was she? Daphne's sister? No, Astoria was older than four. His eyes darted to Daphne, question unvoiced.

She shrugged her shoulders and whispered "Is she really?"

Harry didn't understand, yet he still held the girl.

"Dad..." She was sobbing. "Please don't leave me."

Dad? Harry felt fear clutching his heart. His eyes darted towards the headmaster, his whole stance screaming for help. The girl didn't notice it, as she was still embracing him.

"Miss Greengrass, would I be right to assume that you found the girl on the grounds?"

Daphne was still shocked, but nodded.

"Did she say anything you would find unusual?" Albus was talking in grandfatherly tone.

Harry was still panicking. Yet, the little girl felt warm. Warmer than Hermione hugging him, and he held Hermione as family. Family - Harry smiled - the girl perhaps thought that he was James... But... her age...

"She only said her name and that she knew Astoria." Harry heard Daphne reply.

"Curious. Anything else?" Albus twinkled his eyes again.

"Dad?" came a whisper. "Who is the old man?"

Harry smiled and whispered back. "Albus Dumbledore - he's the greatest wizard there is."

"Really?" she asked loudly. "Like in the stories?"

Albus only smiled at that, mostly listening to the account of how Daphne met the girl.

Harry smiled at the girl, making her blush. "Yeah, like in the stories."

Karya looked around and pointed at Fawkes. "Is that a Phoenix?" The last word was surprisingly well pronounced.

Fawkes gave out a trill, making the little girl beam at Harry with new energy. "He looks cute."

Fawkes leaned his head slightly to the side - he probably would have preferred 'handsome'.

"What's that?" the little girl started pointing at anything in the range and Harry struggled to answer at his best, and that wasn't much.

Greengrass let out a sigh. "Well, I have told you everything I saw, would you mind if I went back to the dormitories?"

"No, not at all, dear child, not at all..." Dumbledore smiled at her. "Please tell your sister to come by tomorrow after breakfast; I will have a few questions for her, of course, if she doesn't mind."

"She won't. Headmaster", said Daphne, nodding, "Potter. Karya."

The little girl, already tired from the swirl of emotions, grinned and waved. "Tell Tori I miss her."

"I will." Daphne disappeared from the office.

Albus turned to Karya and Harry taking in their similar hair and smiles - Harry was grinning at girl's curiosity and expressions, as she was happy even when he said that he had no idea what most of the things in the office were...

Dumbledore coughed. "Mr. Potter..."

Karya jumped a little and pouted, staring at Harry. "We have to leave now? I liked it here."

"What?" He blinked.

"And what is a head..asker?"

Albus laughed. "Headmaster - it means that my head is the one responsible for everything in this school. I must thank you for your compliment about my office, and I hope that you won't leave."

The girl nodded at the explanation and turned to her father again. "Don't we have to hurry?"

"Why?" Harry looked as confused as he felt.

"Before Tom," she visibly whitened saying the name, "comes?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle?" Harry breathed out; the memories of the Gount shack still high up in his mind. "Why would he come here?"

"I admit, I also find myself curious to the answer," Albus added.

She looked at them both like they were the ones aged four years. "But dad, you and Tori remind me every time - the Taboo."

Harry opened his mouth but was beaten to it by the headmaster.

"Ah, Miss Greengrass did mention something of that order. I believe that the name under the Taboo is Potter, yes?"

Her eyes went wider, yet she managed a nod.

"Don't worry, child, you can speak freely here."

"You talk funny. Like a book." She glanced at Harry. "Can I really?"

Harry wanted to ask Albus what exactly a Taboo was and if it was bad that his name was under it, but...

"Dad? Are you sick? Tori says that you should drink the sleep potion more often." Her voice was slightly different as she said the part about the potion - she had been told to repeat that to her dad as many times as possible.

Harry shrugged. "I'm sorry, chestnut, I was just distracted."

Chestnut? Where did that come from?

"Can I say 'Potter'?" she asked again and reddened. "Ups. Sorry?"

Harry ruffled her hair. "Don't worry, if Headmaster said that you can, you can."

"Potter." She smiled. "Potter." She laughed. "Potter. Tell me a story about grandpa Potter tonight?"

"I don't know much..."

Albus coughed, amused. "I believe that it is already late, yet we have a few more things to talk about." He conjured a wide chair so both Harry and Karya would fit. "Please, sit down."

Harry sat first, and wanted to shift to the side and make place for the girl, bur she took the initiative from him, quickly climbing onto his lap and relaxing her head under his chin.

Harry wrapped his left hand around her, as if it was natural for him to be a chair for four year olds.

Albus twinkled his eyes again, thousands of wild theories playing in his head. "My name is Albus Dumbledore."

"I know. Dad just told me. Tori told me some stories too."

Albus chuckled. "I believe she could have. What is your name?"

"Karya P..." she hesitated for a second, but then remembered that it was allowed. "Karya Potter."

Harry was breathing heavily. How? Could it be that he had a sister or a cousin no one ever told him about? Yet, she called him dad... He shifted trying to sit more comfortably and let Headmaster ask the questions.

"When where you born?"

She raised four fingers in the air. "This long ago."

"What year was that?"

"With lots of nines." She didn't sound very sure of herself.

Harry was thinking furiously - time turner of some sort?

"Who are your parents?"

"Dad is." She laughed stroking Harry's arm. "It's a silly question."

"And your mother?"

"She is in a better place." Karya mumbled and glanced at her father, then back to the Headmaster. She finished with a whisper that was slightly too loud as if she was hoping that Harry wouldn't hear. "Tori says that we shouldn't remind Dad about her."

"I see." Headmaster stilled for a second.

Karya yawned.

"Well, it is rather late, so perhaps we should schedule the conversation for tomorrow? After you have rested? I believe all that excitement..."

"Professor," said Harry, "but where will she sleep?"

"Can I sleep with you, dad?" the girl nudged him.

He raised a questioning gaze to the Headmaster, nor really wanting to leave the girl alone for the night. Especially with the state her clothes were in – what had she sheen that left her untouched, yet bloodied her clothes?

"I believe that won't pose us a problem." Albus smiled. "I'll have the house-elves prepare you quarters for the night."

At this, Harry could only nod.

There has been a quote or two from Rowlings books. I didn't mark them, as usually.

The update rate for this fic is going to be extremely slow, as I am currently struggling to write Feathers, Fangs and Flames in accordance to the planned schedule. While waiting for an update, you could check that story out too.