AN: I know this one's a bit short, but I wanted to update as fast as possible. The next one will be longer, but I am sick, so it may take a few days.
Jazz stared at him, seeing he was in dead earnest. She blinked and nodded. "Maybe the Jasmine Potter you knew is dead," she reasoned. "I certainly don't remember anything from before fifteen years ago."
"Jasmine Potter! To think, you've been alive this whole time," Hagrid whispered. He had tears in his eyes. "Dumbledore will be pleased, make no mistake, and young Harry too!" Jazz felt the color draining from her face when he said Harry.
"H-Harry…?" she whispered. She closed her eyes, straining to remember, but all she got was fog, and a flash of green light. "I…I don't…" Hagrid, looking slightly confused, sat on the bench opposite her.
"If you're alive, it means you can take him in! He won't have to stay with them Muggle relations he hates so much! The blood magic will work, because you're his blood!" She drew back from him.
"I don't think I'm fit to take in anyone, least of all someone I don't know," she said softly. He stared at her. "If I'm related to someone called Harry, it's news to me, sir," she continued, a bit more bravely. "As far as I knew, I am alone in the world. I woke up one morning fifteen years ago and discovered that I didn't know who I was."
"You were thought to be dead." Jazz and Hagrid looked up to find the barkeeper, Tom, standing by with a drink for the giant and a new cup of tea for Jazz. He set the tray down and offered her a smile. "It's good to be seeing you alive, at any rate." Then he hustled away as she picked up the second cup.
"Cheers," Hagrid said, raising his glass slightly and then tossing back some of it. Jazz motioned with hers and sipped thoughtfully. "Maybe if you saw Harry, you'd remember…" he mused quietly. Jazz opened her mouth to protest that she didn't want to, but he seemed to have decided and stood, mug in hand. Tossing back the rest of it, he pulled her bodily to her feet, book bag and all and towed her towards the fireplace. "All righ, then. Floo on to Dumbledore's office. I'll be right behind ye," he said. Jazz looked up at him blankly.
"Excuse me, Floo?" "Wha, ye don't know how to Floo now?" "I told you, I don't remember ANYTHING from before fifteen years ago," she said slowly, as though he were quite dense.
One of the patrons took pity on her. "Hagrid, why don't you do what you came here to do, and we'll explain the basics to her?" Jazz blinked at him, but Hagrid beamed and clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to send him tumbling into the table. He got up, wiping off his robes with a smile as the giant ambled back through the building. "Now, Miss Potter."
"Jazz," she corrected. He smiled.
"Jazz," he agreed. "Floo powder," he said, indicating the flowerpot full of dust. "Throw it into the fire, step in after the flames turn green, and pronounce your destination clearly. Keep your elbows in and your eyes closed. As long as you speak clearly, you should be able to get out at the right grate."
Surprisingly, Jazz felt comfortable with these directions. She looked at the fire, then at the powder and sighed. I suppose there's no getting out of this now. "Right."
"Just say, 'Dumbledore's Office' and you'll be taken there." She nodded and took a handful of the powder and tossed it confidently into the flames, which turned immediately green, but not the green she remembered from her vision. She hitched the bag up on her shoulder and stepped in after taking a deep breath. Turning around, she regarded the room.
"Dumbledore's office," she said quietly, but clearly. With a rushing sound and a sucking feeling, the room disappeared. She squeezed her eyes shut as vertigo threatened to make her sick, but she instinctively cracked them open again as she remembered her orders and tucked her elbows in. In the back of her mind, she felt an odd familiarity and exhilaration and then she fell forward onto her arms.
Looking around as she stood, she was surprised to see a large round room with two tiers, the second accessed by a spiral staircase. She stood and brushed herself off warily, keeping an eye out for strange happenings.
A brilliant red and gold bird sat on a perch by a monstrous desk, peering at her curiously. "A phoenix," she breathed, startled that she knew what it was. A brilliant blue eye looked sharply at her. "I…I remember you…Fawkes," she whispered. He squawked once and fluffed himself as she tore her eyes away from the beautiful plumage and looked around. She saw the door, outlined in gold light, and curiosity overcame her, a trait she knew would someday probably kill her.
She opened it and, finding another spiral staircase, this one stone and much longer than the one inside, decided to take a trip, though she should probably stay put and wait for Hagrid.
She trotted down the stairs in a dizzying spiral until she reached a stone corridor. "This could prove to be more fun than I thought." She didn't know that at that moment, she more resembled her brother than at any time during their seven years in the selfsame building. Nor did she know that she knew precisely where she was. She simply followed what she thought was curiosity down the halls, eyes staring, wide open in fascination.
She was astounded by the perfect symmetry of the huge double doors, and walked to them to examine the woodwork closer. One light touch, however, caused them to open and the dull murmur became a roar of voices as the Great Hall was revealed, packed with teenagers.
Her eyes went instantly to the staff table, met by the piercing blue eyes of the headmaster. He shot to his feet and the sudden silence hit her like a wave. She still couldn't remember, either. "Please, come in," he said softly, his voice rolling through the room like a tidal wave. She cleared her throat and took a step forward.
"I didn't mean to interrupt…um, Hagrid sent me to you."
"Come in, Jasmine, don't be shy." She froze, eyes wide.
"How do you know my name?"
"You look the same as you did fifteen years ago when I found you almost dead in the rubble of your home." The silence got really oppressive then. She stepped forward. "Please, come in, sit and eat." Jasmine squared her shoulders to walk in, but a cold voice rang in the stillness.
"Headmaster, I don't think…" Jazz' eyes snapped to the voice's owner.
"Severus Snape," she said, almost involuntarily. "My brother used to torment you in school," she added slowly. Then she seemed surprised. "I…have a brother. That's right." She looked again to Dumbledore, who regarded her sorrowfully. He walked around the staff table and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"We should talk about this in my office. Severus…please come with us. Harry, I think you should come too." Harry Potter looked confused and traded looks with Ron, then shrugged and got up. Dumbledore smiled. "Bring them with you, if you like. It concerns the Weasleys as well." Ginny and Ron got up and followed, trailed by Hermione, forgotten for the moment. Then the procession made its way out of the Great Hall.
Only minutes later, they were seated around a fire in the headmaster's office, Jazz staring into the flames, the others staring at her. Blinking at the flickering light, she sighed. "I remember red, a lot of it. Red and gold and a lion taller than a house. A table piled with books and discarded paper. And four boys, the envy of the school. Only two people could resist his charms: me and…and…why can't I remember her name!?" she burst out, seeing the redhead from her dream in her mind's eyes but unable to recall her name.
"Her name was Lily Evans," Dumbledore told her gently.
"Lily…yes. Lily. She had green eyes and red hair and he was completely in love with her from the moment he saw her."
"You mean James Potter?" Harry asked, unable to contain his curiosity. Jazz actually looked up then, her blue eyes filled with something like fear.
"James…yes, that was his name."
"What did you mean, you and her were the only ones able to resist his charms?" Ginny asked, sitting in a chair across from her, dying to know why she and her brother were involved with this woman. Jazz smiled and looked back at the fire.
"She hated his arrogance, though it was well-deserved, I suppose. I was always better than him at practical things, but James was ruler of the Quidditch pitch. He'd have played for England if Lily hadn't been accepted into Auror training…" She trailed off, trying hard to remember more, now that her mind seemed to be flowing so easily. "I…I don't…I don't remember…" She looked up at Snape. "He used to call you something…he didn't like you much."
"Nor I him," the Potions master replied coolly.
"You were always better than him at Potions. It was something he could handle in his sister, but not in a Slytherin. Never in a Slytherin…" She lookd back to the fire. "He had hazel eyes, and messy black hair…always running his fingers through it…he never could kick that habit…" Dumbledore put a hand on her shoulder.
"Where have you been for fifteen years?" he asked gently. "Perhaps we should start there."