Hp:Merlin From Azkaban

Dana had no idea what Snape and Black had argued about.

When he woke up, he was in the cabin of a Ministry of Magic sailboat, the turbulent waves making the ship sway unsteadily.

The room was small and dilapidated, but after four years in a prison cell, Dana found the moldy wooden walls and creaking floorboards to be the most beautiful sight he had seen in a long time.

"You're awake."

Dana turned at the voice and saw Severus Snape sitting nearby, scrutinizing him with his usual sharp gaze.

"Hello."

Dana smiled—a big, genuine smile.

Perhaps it was because he had suppressed his emotions for years, but at this moment, he could no longer hold back the joy gushing through him. It made his smile especially sincere.

Of course, most of his happiness came from one simple thought—

He was finally going home. He was going to see his mother.

"Dana Avery?"

"Yes, I am Dana Avery. Are you a professor at Hogwarts?"

"I am the Potions Master at Hogwarts. You may call me Professor Snape."

"Alright, Professor Snape."

Snape's black eyes remained fixed on him as he asked,

"I checked the Ministry of Magic's records. You were officially declared dead four years ago. This cell was originally meant for the Death Eater Goyle Avery. Tell me—what exactly happened?"

Dana let out a bitter chuckle.

"The head of the Avery family promised to treat my mother's illness—on the condition that I took Goyle Avery's place."

Snape's expression did not change, though a flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes. Without another word, he grabbed Dana's arm.

"This may feel a little unpleasant. Bear with it."

CRACK!

With the sharp snap of Apparition, the two vanished.

No. 5, Livingston Town

When they reappeared, Dana found himself standing in front of an old house.

The faded house number read: 5 Livingston Town.

This small town was a haven for lower-income wizards and Squibs—a quiet place where those on the fringes of the magical world made their home.

This was Dana's home.

Snape glanced down at him. The boy didn't look nauseous from Apparition, but his reaction was… different.

His eyes were red.

Dana's mother, Anna Avery, had always been obsessively clean. She would wash the doormat at least once a week.

But now—

The doormat was covered in moss.

An awful feeling settled in Dana's stomach.

His heart pounded.

Before he even realized it, tears were rolling down his face.

"Alohomora!"

He didn't hesitate. He unlocked the door and rushed inside.

As Dana stepped inside, the breeze stirred up thick layers of dust.

Sunlight streamed through the grimy glass windows, catching the swirling dust in the air.

Dana wiped his tears, forcing his blurry vision to clear.

The few pieces of furniture that remained were broken beyond repair.

The dining table, where his mother used to tell him bedtime stories, had one leg missing, likely chewed away by rats. It had collapsed onto its side, tilting like a dying memory.

His mother would sit at that table, knitting as she spoke in her gentle voice, telling the same old-fashioned fairy tales over and over again.

Dana had fallen asleep there so many times…

He turned to the bay window, where his mother would carry him when he dozed off.

But now—

Someone had thrown a rock through the glass.

Shards lay scattered on the windowsill, long since melted into the rotting wood after years of exposure to rain.

Dana's breath hitched.

He turned and bolted up the stairs.

Creak. Creak. Creak.

The wooden staircase, once sturdy and well-maintained, now groaned under his weight, as though protesting his return.

Nothing in this house felt like home anymore.

At the top of the stairs, the door to his mother's bedroom stood ajar.

But the door had not been left open.

It was rotting, barely holding together.

This room was in the worst condition of all.

Dana reached the threshold, his fingers trembling—

And then he saw it.

A collapsed wooden bed.

A skeleton lying quietly atop it.

The tattered, faded dress still wrapped around the fragile bones—

His mother's favorite dress.

Dana's legs gave out beneath him.

A wretched, broken cry escaped his lips.

He fell to his knees, curling into himself as tears streamed freely down his face.

Snape reached the second floor, pausing as he took in the scene.

For a long moment, he simply stood there, observing the sobbing boy.

After a while, he let out a slow breath.

"My condolences."

Dana barely heard him.

His trembling fingers reached toward the silver ring on his mother's skeletal hand.

It was cheap, worthless even to thieves—but it was hers.

Even in death, they had left it behind.

But the house had been robbed.

The only thing of value in their home—a family tapestry passed down from his grandfather—was gone.

For a long time, Dana just knelt there.

Until there were no tears left to cry.

Then, slowly, he stood.

He opened the bedside drawer, searching for anything she might have left behind.

His fingers touched an old, yellowed piece of parchment.

Unfolding it, his eyes landed on the words:

"Anna Avery borrows 100 Galleons from Olybos Avery. Monthly interest rate: 2%. To be repaid within ten years."

A loan certificate.

Dana inhaled sharply.

So, after he had been sent to Azkaban—

They never healed her.

She must have borrowed money herself, hoping to pay for treatment… and wait for him to come home.

But she never received the treatment.

Because she had spent it all trying to buy his freedom.

She had gone to the Ministry of Magic, pleading for help.

And when no one helped her—

She had starved. She had froze. She had died alone in this empty house.

---

Mad-Eye Moody

Snape broke the silence.

"I will arrange for your mother to be buried. This house is no longer habitable. Until the start of term, you will stay at the Leaky Cauldron."

Dana said nothing. He simply nodded, stealing one last, aching glance at his mother's remains before stepping away.

He descended the stairs, pushed open the front door—

"Careful!"

Snape's voice cut through the air.

He rushed forward, wand raised—an orange-red glow flashing from the tip.

Standing opposite him, another wizard raised his own wand.

A tall, grizzled man, with a scarred face and one glaring, unnatural eye.

Snape lowered his wand immediately, recognizing the man at once.

"Alastor Moody."

"Severus Snape? What are you doing here?"

The two stared at each other, lowering their wands at the same time.

Moody's eyes shifted past Snape—

To Dana.

"Little Dana?"

Moody blinked, startled.

"Your mother hasn't been seen in years. I heard she spent all her last Galleons searching for you. So, tell me—where have you been all this time?"

Dana felt a cold chill run down his spine.

His mother had never even tried to save herself.

She had spent it all trying to bring him home.

Snape had roughly understood the cause and effect. He nodded to Moody:

"I need to take this child to the Leaky Cauldron now. He will be going to Hogwarts next month,"

Snape grabbed Dyna's arm and continued to say to Moody,

"His mother is dead, and her bones are on the second floor. Since you are here, please take care of it. I will have Professor McGonagall settle the expenses with you."

Before he could speak, Snape grabbed his arm.

"We are leaving."

CRACK!

And just like that, they were gone.

Leaving behind Mad-Eye Moody, still frozen in shock.

"What? Anna Avery is dead?"

End of the Chapter.