The night of Ariel’s detention, she could feel that something was… off.

She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment she felt it happen, but suddenly, she was hyper-aware of a shift, of a change in the air, of the crackle of magic turning to a muted hiss in her ears. Somewhere, in the castle, Ariel supposed, something had happened, but she didn’t know how she knew that. It was intuition, she supposed, but she felt very silly the more she pondered it, thought about it, wondering if anyone else had felt it too. It had only been a split second, after all.

In light of this, Ariel tried her very best to ignore it, most of her time spent worrying about Voldemort popping up in the middle of class and murdering her. She couldn’t shake the coldness that had spread throughout her body when Snape had told her, and even though she knew he’d done it to spook her into staying away from the Stone, she also knew that Snape wasn’t a liar. He liked to omit things, or avoid them altogether, but he didn’t lie. He oftentimes said Ariel was a terrible liar — she wondered if she got that from him. Maybe Snape didn’t lie because he was horrible at it, like her.

Hermione and Ron had elected to continue their research on the Stone without Ariel so that Voldemort and Snape wouldn’t kill her, but she’d insisted that they all stop for now, until things quieted down. Between the Giant Smoke Monster That Was Really Voldemort, and everyone ignoring Ariel and Ron (and now Hermione, too), there wasn’t really much else to be done.

“What if we went to Professor Dumbledore?” Hermione tried late one night, the three of them huddled around the fire, roasting marshmallows. Fred and George had been generous enough to steal some from the kitchens for them, in solidarity in the sacredness of Mischief Making (in front of everyone else, however, they were telling people that Ron was adopted).

“What’s he going to do?” Ariel sighed, twisting her stick nervously. “Snape’s probably told him everything already, and it’s not like they can see the Smoke Monster. So, what else can be done?”

“We can tell him how worried we are —”

“No,” she said firmly. “what if whoever’s working for Voldemort finds out?”

“But Professor Snape said —”

“He said to stay away, Hermione.” Ron made a face, his marshmallow soot black. “I’m with Ariel on this one, we can’t risk messing around with it anymore… not for a while, anyway.”

“Maybe once your detention is over,” Hermione offered, her brow furrowed in thought. “Maybe once it’s over… maybe everything will start going back to normal.”

Ariel didn’t think that wasn’t very likely, but she didn’t voice it. “Maybe.”

“I mean,” Ron stuck another marshmallow on his stick, abandoning the burnt one. “You-Know-Who’s not taking a break, is he? We’ve got to figure out who’s helping him before he figures out how to get to the Stone eventually.”

She felt frustrated by this. They couldn’t keep looking for the Stone because it would put them in more danger, but they also couldn’t let Voldemort just take it without at least trying to stop him. The thought stuck to the front of her mind, like glue. No matter how hard Ariel tried to pry it off, tried to think about something else, she couldn’t.

Hermione must’ve seen the worried look on Ariel’s face, because she scooted closer, blowing on her marshmallow before taking a bite. “Well, the professors seem to think the Stone is safe. They wouldn’t let us be here if it weren’t, right? They wouldn’t let you be here if they thought there was a chance You-Know-Who could hurt you.”

Ariel thought of Snape’s face, biting in the shadows of the dungeons.

I am here for one reason only, and that is to make sure that you stay alive

Voldemort already has hurt me, she thought to herself. He’s told me to hurt other people and I listened —

She suppressed a shudder and nodded. “Let’s get through this stupid detention with Malfoy, and then we’ll talk about it. For now, I’m just trying to make sure we don’t lose any more points.”

Ariel had asked Snape, several times, in fact, if he would be overseeing the detention, but he hadn’t responded to that question. He’d ignored her, like he usually did, but she could see his eyes sharpen, his lips curl back in a sneer. Their fake-detentions had ended a while ago, but Ariel still went down every night, and Snape hadn’t commented or even pointed out that they would have to come up with a new reason for her being there. None of the other students bothered with her anymore after she’d lost them the House Cup, and Professor McGonagall hadn’t said a word to her. Ariel had asked Hermione what she’d heard her saying to Snape about the detentions, but Hermione had gone very quiet and told her she hadn’t heard much, only the tail end.

Ariel got the feeling there was something else Hermione wasn’t telling her, but she didn’t press it. They hadn’t talked about Snape since Hermione had told her what she really felt, and Ariel didn’t feel comfortable talking about her Snape-father-problems anymore, not when there were more serious things happening. She was trying very hard to get rid of the feeling, to peel it off her consciousness and let herself feel normal talking to Hermione about whatever, but she just couldn’t.

Ron and Ariel made their way down at ten to eleven, not wanting to be late and incurring Professor McGonagall’s wrath for a second time. She was surprised, however, to find that Filch was there, a torch in his hand, causing the bony lines of his face to dance in the dim light. Malfoy and Goyle were already there too, looking extremely put-off. When they caught sight of them, Malfoy’s face darkened even more. He hadn’t so much as looked in her direction since she’d pummeled him, but she supposed that tonight, he would try and get his revenge if he could. What was the detention, though? Filch being here wasn’t exactly a promising sign.

Before anyone — even Filch — could say anything, a shape peeled itself out of the shadows. Ariel almost jumped out of her skin, grabbing Ron’s hand, ready to pull him away, but she immediately felt a wave of relief crash over her when she saw a familiar pair of black, bottomless eyes.

“Hullo,” she said, without thinking. Ron looked at her with owl-eyes, while Malfoy sneered, jabbing Goyle in the side, as if to say, “get a load of this.”

Snape ignored her, as usual, sending a sharp look to Filch. “You will relay my message to Hagrid, won’t you?”

Filch spat on the ground, but gave a jerky, reluctant nod. He glared down at the four of them, like they’d somehow gotten him in trouble. Ariel’s heart gave a delighted jolt of joy. If they were with Hagrid, it couldn’t be so bad, could it?

Snape’s eyes narrowed down on them next. “You stay within Hagrid’s sights at all times — am I understood?”

Ariel noticed that he didn’t look at her when he said that, but she could help but feel like it was mostly aimed at her. Snape had a way of doing that — of saying things that were so obscure, that somehow, it made their intentions even more clear. She’d learned that, after spending practically every night with him for the past few months. Snape didn’t talk like a normal person — he talked like a monk you met at the top of a sacred mountain, who also hated your guts.

“What’re we doing, sir?” Malfoy asked Snape in a pleasant voice, but Ariel could’ve sworn she heard his voice quiver, just a bit.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Snape said coldly. He looked especially bat-like tonight, his cloak making him look much larger than he actually was. Sometimes, Ariel wondered if he really was part-vampire, but she’d seen him sort-of eat food in the Great Hall, which meant he didn’t drink blood. He ate food like he wanted to punch it in the face, though.

Ron shot Ariel a look of relief, and she felt her chest release the tension that had built up during the walk down. Filch caught sight of them and gave a nasty smirk. “I suppose you think you’ll be enjoying yourselves. Think again, little girl —”

“Enough,” Snape interjected sharply, and Filch gave him a terrible look. “you’re already late.”

Her heart began to beat to a new rhythm of panic, one that she didn’t know was there until Filch jerked his head at them, motioning for the four of them to follow. Snape, however, stayed perfectly still, his eyes locked at the entrance, where the wind knocked the entrance doors against the walls, blowing in snow that coated the floor like dust. What if the Giant Smoke Monster was out there? Filch was a Squib, and Hagrid — wasn’t allowed? couldn’t? — practice magic. What if someone got hurt because of her, what if the Giant Smoke Monster made her do something and she couldn’t fight back —

Ariel stayed behind for a moment, letting the others fall a few paces ahead before looking up at Snape. “Are you coming?”

He stared straight down his hooked nose on her. “And why would I do that, Miss Evans?”

She frowned at him, tugging her rucksack tightly to her chest. “What if something happens?” she whispered. “Where is Mr Filch taking us? What’re we doing with Hagrid?”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Snape said, like this was the most obvious thing in the world.

Ariel quickly ran this through her Snape Folder, trying to decode his weird not-really-English-but-it-sure-sounded-like-it speech. “Does that mean you are coming?”

He let out a very put-off sigh. “Why would I volunteer to spend more time mediating your little feud?”

She tried not to feel stung by the comment. “Because you promised.”

His eyes flashed, that pinprick of not-fear glowing from the bottom of his black eyes. It was the same look he’d given her before, outside of the Dursley’s house, the night she’d told him about the Giant Smoke Monster, and in the alcove. It made her entire nervous system feel like it was going haywire, like when Dudley got impatient with one of his video games and made the computer crash.

Ariel swallowed loudly. “Alright. I — I trust you.”

His hand curled around her shoulder, like a question mark. She could feel his nails digging into the muscle between the bones in her shoulder as his eyes burned into hers, an almost cruel glint to them.

“Do you have the coin?” he asked, his voice deeper than usual. Or at least, it sounded that way — the pain in her arm was making her feel lightheaded. “And the Cloak?”

Ariel nodded, hugging her rucksack tightly to her chest. She’d put her Defense textbook in there too, just so it wouldn’t look too suspicious, along with her wand. Her Mum’s letter was tucked into the book as well. She didn’t trust keeping it in her room, and something inside her felt like it might die at the thought of losing it somehow.

“Try not to do anything innately moronic,” Snape let go of her, and she felt a rush of heat — the blood returning to her shoulder. “and you’ll be fine.”

She wanted to tell him how she felt, how she had this weird, not-really-a-feeling that something wasn’t right, but she didn’t want to sound stupid. Snape hated it when she couldn’t explain herself.

She swallowed roughly again, giving him one last glance before following Ron, who’d waited for her at the door. Malfoy and Goyle were only a few paces ahead, trailing behind Filch like they were being set on a death march. Ariel nearly rolled her eyes at them — Slytherins were awfully dramatic.

“What was that about?” Ron whispered, ducking his head close to hers.

“I thought he might be coming.”

Ron looked horrified. “Is he?”

“No, don’t worry.” Ariel reassured him, quickening their pace so that they caught up to the rest of the group — she didn’t want to get left behind out here, in the dark. “He wouldn’t tell me what we’re doing, though.”

“Well, it was nice knowing you,” Ron gave a sideways glare to Malfoy and Goyle. “Not you two.”

Ariel let out a deep sigh, one she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in. “It can’t be too bad if it’s with Hagrid.”

“That stupid oaf can barely walk straight,” Malfoy spat out, but Ariel saw a flash of panic pass across his face. “He’s not fit to oversee a detention.”

“Says who?” Ariel shot back defensively. “He wouldn’t be Gamekeeper if Professor Dumbledore didn’t trust him — he’s got loads of responsibilities!”

“Oh yeah, like we can trust the Gryffindor-loving old coot —”

“How’s your nose, then?” Ariel snapped. “It’s looking a little crooked, up close.”

Malfoy gave her a murderous glare — she’d never seen him so angry before. “Shut up, Red Cap. It’s your fault we’re here, anyway.”

“The only reason she punched you is because you wouldn’t close your big fat mouth.” Ron said coolly.

“Shut it,” Filch barked at them. “You lot ought to be thinking twice about breaking school rules, eh? It’s a pity they let the old punishments die out — hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I’ve got the chains still in my office.”

Ron went a bit white at that, Ariel’s stomach giving an uncomfortable squirm. Hadn’t Fred and George mentioned chains in Filch’s office before? Hagrid wouldn’t make them wear chains — Hagrid would probably make them eat a whole rock cake as a punishment, though. Good thing she hadn’t been able to eat much at dinner…

The night sky was blank, clouds covering the stars as they made their way across the grounds in silence. Filch’s torch seemed to be the only source of light tonight, though Ariel could just barely make out the dim glow of Hagrid’s hut in the distance. She shivered, her teeth rattling as she wrapped her cloak more tightly around her and cast a quick Warming Charm on both her and Ron. Goyle lifted his wand to do the same, but Malfoy gave one look at his raised wand and said, “You point that thing away from me, I can do it myself.”

After several minutes of tense, cold silence, Ariel saw a familiar shape coming towards them, one that instantly made her feel ten million times better.

“Is that you, Filch?” Hagrid’s voice shouted, slicing through the cold, night air, warming it like a comet. “Hurry up, I want ter get started!”

———

Severus was trying — he was trying very hard to maintain the illusion that he was allowing Miss Evans to walk into the Forbidden Forest unsupervised.

He had fought Minerva tooth and nail to get the brats for the detention, but she’d remained vehement that she would oversee it and assign a just punishment, using that fact that Severus had been in charge of Miss Evans’ punishments all year, and that the girl was in her House, after all. Severus had even gone so far as to involve Dumbledore, but he’d meekly offered that Minerva had already gotten to him, and that Minerva was growing… concerned.

It shouldn’t have surprised him that someone would grow suspicious eventually — luckily, he had the buffer of Dumbledore to deal with that. He didn’t give a fuck what the staff thought about him, but he could certainly see it becoming a problem if they thought he was assigning detentions for more… nefarious reasons — and that was without Minerva knowing he’d been following the girl, making sure that she wasn’t going anywhere she wasn’t supposed to.

Disillusioning himself and following the brats sounded about as insane as it would have looked, had they been able to see him, but he wasn’t going to allow Miss Evans to go into the Forbidden Forest — virtually alone, since Hagrid was about as useful as a wet tissue — when there was a homicidal maniac trying to infiltrate the school.

Filch, in the meantime, was continuing to be a fucking useless piece of shit, looking straight at Miss Evans, who had smiled at the sound of Hagrid. “Think again, lass, it’s into the forest you’re going and I’m much mistaken if you’ll all come out in one piece.”

Severus was going to rip out his tongue, if he kept talking. He’d slice it right off in front of the children, and he wouldn’t feel an ounce of regret about it —

“The forest?” Draco bleated. “We can’t go in there at night, there’s all sorts of things in there — werewolves, I heard.”

Severus rolled his eyes — so did Miss Evans, who then shared a look of great suffering with Weasley-twerp. He noticed that the boy made sure she stayed in front of him while they walked.

“Alright there Ellie, Ron?” Hagrid greeted them, while ignoring Draco, who was sending Goyle outrageous looks of alarm.

“I wouldn’t be too friendly with them, Hagrid.” Filch said, twisting his nose in disgust. “They’re here to be punished, after all.”

“That’s why yer late, is it?” Hagrid frowned, shuffling his crossbow to his other shoulder. “Bin lecturin’ them, eh? ‘Snot your place ter do that. Yeh’ve done yer bit, I’ll take over from here.”

Severus made a mental note to gut Filch’s cat as he walked away without delivering his message, glaring nastily over his shoulder as the lantern swung back and forth, the light glinting off the children’s wide eyes. Miss Evans didn’t look nearly as frightened as Severus would have thought one might be — Draco, on the other hand, seemed seconds away from passing out. He should grab the girl, get her out of here —

you promised

I trust you

something’s there something won’t leave alone

Severus bit back a snarl, scrubbing the thought from his mind. He had to be objective about this — he’d let his emotions take the lead in the past, and it was clouding his judgement. Maybe the years of doing nothing but mindless instruction and grading had made him go soft, but the more he interacted with the brat, the more stressed he found himself when not forced to be in her presence. Severus tried to tell himself that having a homicidal maniac stalking Lily’s (yours yours yours) child would be enough to make anyone a paranoid mess, but the line between duty and something Dumbledorian was becoming blurred.

He’d keep an eye on the girl, and make sure she made it back to her tower without incident. And there would not be any incidents, because if there were, Severus was going to lose his fucking mind.

Draco, on the other hand, was beginning to unravel as well. “I’m not going into that forest.”

Hagrid’s eyes narrowed. “Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts. Yeh’ve done wrong an’ now yeh’ve got ter pay fer it.”

“She,” Draco pointed a finger at Miss Evans, who looked like she wanted to bite it off. “attacked me. Why should Goyle and I have to go in there — we should stay here and be lookout, while they do whatever —”

“Oh, shut up Malfoy!” Weasley-twerp interrupted. “If you don’t stop yapping, whatever you’re so scared of is going to come out of the forest and shut you up itself.”

They began to bicker, and Miss Evans sent Hagrid a sympathetic look. He looked taken off guard, like he’d never seen two people argue in front of him before. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, the row growing in volume and intensity as Weasley-twerp’s language took a more colorful turn. Hagrid put down the cross bow, holding up he hands, is if that was going to do any fucking good, when Miss Evans finally decided to do something about it.

“So, what’re we doing in the forest, Hagrid?” Miss Evans said in a loud voice, one that miraculously found its way over the insults.

The boys quieted down, looking up warily at the useless dolt. Hagrid shifted uncomfortably, and then cleared his throat. “Right then,” he said gruffly. “Now, listen carefully, ‘cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight. Follow me over here a moment.”

Severus felt his tendons strain against his skin. Minerva had promised they wouldn’t be going far in, but she’d also said it was up to Hagrid, and the neanderthal didn’t exactly have stellar judgement when it came to assigning just punishments for children. The word dangerous began panging inside of Severus’ skull, the sea of Occlumency’s wave turning rough and rocky.

It became a full-blown squall when Hagrid told them what they’d be doing, and that they would be splitting up.

eye-ball melting skin flaying mind-bending blood curdling —

He was going to make what he’d been doing to Quirrell look like child’s play, he was going to strip the school down to its foundations and scatter the ashes, he was —

Miss Evans’ voice interrupted his mania. “What could be killing unicorns?”

“Nothin’ that would mess with me or Fang here,” Hagrid assured her, and Severus felt his brain splitting apart. “There’s blood all over the place, so whatever’s been killin’ ‘em is long gone. As long as yeh stick ter the path, yeh be fine.”

“And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?” Draco asked in a very forced voice. Lucius would have given him a couple of whacks for showing an ounce of fear.

“Weren’t you listening?” Weasley-twerp said before Hagrid could answer. “Whatever’s out there just killed one — we’re just looking for the unicorn.”

“I bet your family could use a unicorn,” Draco snarled. “Your parents could pay for all the kids they can’t afford.”

Hagrid took one look between Weasley-twerp and Draco, and looked to Miss Evans, motioning to Draco with his head. “Ellie, you go with this idiot —”

“HEY —”

“— we don’t have all night, and we’ve got ter find the poor feller, put him out of his misery, if we have to.”

“What?” Miss Evans squeaked, at the same time Draco let out a groan of disgust. “I want Fang, then.” Draco said quickly. “If you’re going to make me go with Red Cap, I want the mutt!”

“Alright, but I warn yeh, he’s a coward.” Hagrid adjusted his crossbow, before muttering: “The two of yeh will be useless together.”

Severus seethed, feeling his molars smoke as he struggled to contain his rage. The girl was within arm’s reach, but he couldn’t grab her without raising uncomfortable questions. The vise of his skull was becoming dangerously tense as he imagined all the ways he would rip apart Dumbledore for allowing this — the man thought things like this built character, that they created strong witches and wizards who would draw upon these experiences, but the girl —

GRYFFINDORS, he wanted to scream.

Hagrid started off with Weasley-twerp and Mr Goyle, leaving the girl with Draco and the equally useless mutt.

Miss Evans looked at Draco, who was staring warily into the tree line.

“C’mon,” she muttered. “Let's bloody get this over with.”

“Yes, princess.” Draco said under his breath.

Miss Evans whirled around. “I am not a princess!”

Draco smirked. “Well, you’re sort of right, you certainly don’t look like one.”

“Shut up,” she growled. “I’ve never met someone so obnoxious in my whole entire life.”

“Really? You’ve met Weasley, haven’t you?”

“Ron is worth ten-thousand of you —”

Severus couldn’t take much more of the bickering. It was beginning to sound like a dull buzz in the back of his brain, so that when Miss Evans finally flounced away, Malfoy trailing behind her with an arrogant smirk, he could still hear it bouncing around the inside of his skull. For a moment, he was reminded of Lily and Potter’s arguments, only Lily would have Hexed Draco by now. Severus could tell the girl was exerting a great deal of effort not to do anything she’d end up regretting, but the boy was testing her limits. The boy clearly had more brain damage than Poppy had originally diagnosed.

Draco shoved past Miss Evans, tearing Severus from his inner musings. The girl, in the meantime, had picked up a stick, throwing her arm back as she aimed at the back of his head. Severus stifled the urge to bury his face in his hands — the girl had a wand andwas once again choosing Muggle tactics to inflict on the Pureblood Slytherin, who hadn’t known a shred of discomfort up until her fist had collided with his face.

Luckily, after a moment, Miss Evans grimaced and dropped the stick. She seemed to steady herself with a deep breath, wrinkling her nose in determination. Severus felt something inside his chest burn, a distant memory he couldn’t recall trying to reach the surface.

“So,” she trailed after him, readjusting her rucksack. “Are there really werewolves in these woods?”

Severus sighed heavily. The things the girl decided to worry about were mind-boggling, but most children were. He supposed his own wouldn’t be any different.

“How would I know?” Draco kicked at a rock. “I don’t have a death wish, so I’ve never been here before.”

“I’m asking because you mentioned them before, genius.”

“I’m sure there’s loads of monsters that would love to kill us in here!” Draco scowled. “It takes half a brain to figure that one out.”

“Fine, be that way.” Miss Evans snapped. “I was just wondering, since I don’t really know what could be killing unicorns.”

Draco hesitated a moment. “I don’t know anything that hunts them. They’re not supposed to be killed.”

“Oh, now you’re a zoologist?”

“A what?”

“Never mind,” she shook her head in exasperation. “I wish Hagrid would’ve given us some tips.”

Severus watched them both warily, keeping enough of a distance that they wouldn’t sense him. A suspicion was growing inside of him, the foundations of it strong and particularly baffling as Miss Evans and Draco walked in tense, uneasy silence. Draco craved attention — he hadn’t much interaction with other children his age growing up, which had left him with the gaping hole of constantly needing attention, and not knowing how to share it. Potter had been similar, Severus recalled with a rush of loathing so strong it churned his stomach. That need for attention, though, had a target in both cases. Potter’s had been Lily, and Draco’s was —

He ground his teeth and threw the thought far away from him. It would explain Draco’s bizarre, almost desperate behavior, but the little beasts were eleven, for Merlin’s sake. That would give Severus plenty of time to squash any sort of crush, even if Draco didn’t realize that’s what it was. A crush on Miss Evans would put her in more danger, down the line. Narcissa would not take well to that at all — she knew the risks of associating with Miss Evans, and what that would do to her son. They both had their own children’s safety to look out for, now.

It was with that jarring thought in mind when Miss Evans decided to exercise one of her more Gryffindor talents and be astonishingly blunt.

“Why do you hate me so much, anyway?” she stopped, putting herself between Draco and the path. “Huh? What’d I ever do to you?”

His lip curled. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack,” she said evenly.

“A what?”

“Stop playing stupid!” she threw her hands up in exasperation. “You know why I punched you, right? It’s because of — this.”

Severus watched intently as the boy exhaled through his nose. He almost felt sorry for him, being the focus of Miss Evans’ interrogation. She would get something out of him — she was quite good at it, though Severus had a feeling she had no idea of the effect she had. For a moment, he wondered if that was something she’d inherited from him or Lily, but quickly scrubbed the thought away, letting it float out to Occlumency sea, like flotsam.

“You just deserve it,” Draco sneered. “there doesn’t have to be a reason, Red Cap.”

He stormed past her, the mutt jumping out of the way in surprise. Miss Evans gave him a comforting scratch behind the ears, her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“You started it, you know.” she called. “On the train — you made fun of Hermione for being Muggleborn.”

“Don’t we have a unicorn to find?” Draco threw over his shoulder. “You’re squawking is probably scaring it away, if it can still walk, that is…”

“That’s what this is, isn’t it?” a look of realization was creeping across her face, like a sunrise.

Draco twisted on his heel. “You know you snubbed me for those worthless, Muggle-loving pests —”

Severus began keeping a tally for every time Draco threw an insult. He’d file them away, for later, for when he needed to teach the boy a lesson. Lucius certainly hadn’t thought of his son’s survival, if Draco was spewing Pureblood nonsense this freely.

He would learn — the hard way.

“You were ghastly to Hermione!” Miss Evans fumed. “What did you expect me to do?”

“You could’ve —” Draco froze, then, staring at something behind Miss Evans. He raised his hand and pointed to a spot behind her, where something shimmered in the dark. “Look!”

She whirled around, the freckles around her nose disappearing as she paled, but she quickly turned around in confusion. “What is that stuff?”

“Unicorn blood, idiot.”

They’d walked past a lot of it already — the little nitwits had been too busy taking shots at one another to notice. Severus had been paying close attention to the tree line, making sure they didn’t stray off the dirt path. The dog was doing a good enough job of leading the way, but Severus felt his skin prickle every time Miss Evans fell behind when Draco decided to storm off.

“Oh,” she grimaced. “Why's it silver?”

“Because it’s a unicorn.” Draco drawled.

Something changed in her face — the lines in her cheekbones sharpened, her (his) black eyes narrowed in suspicion. It was such an un-Lily-like expression that for a moment, Severus almost didn’t recognize her.

They walked in silence for a long while then, to Severus’ great relief. He watched the girl carefully, noting that she did not look in front of her as she walked, but at her feet. At first, Severus thought she might have been watching her steps to make sure she didn’t trip, but the lantern Draco held was bright enough that it showed any sort of blockage or hole in the path, and they weresupposed to be keeping an eye out for unicorn blood. She was deep in thought — he realized this when her head snapped up, like she’d come out of a trance.

“I don’t see any dead unicorns,” Miss Evans sighed as they came to a fork in the road. “Do you?”

“No,” Draco kicked at the dirt. “Just wait until my father hears about this — what they made me do.”

Lucius would surely complain — he was quite good at that. Dumbledore had written down several complaints from Lucius over the years, actually. Having Fudge’s ear had leant Lucius the opportunity to give several critiques and suggestions on how to better run Hogwarts, long before Draco had arrived. Dumbledore always thanked him generously, but would later read them aloud to Severus, who found them to be mildly amusing. The lack of self-awareness was staggering, but money and power afforded that privilege, Severus supposed. He almost resented it. He had once been envious of it.

Something let out an ungodly sound — something that caused the mutt’s ears to flatten and the children to stop in their tracks. Severus stood behind Miss Evans, his wand drawn, and scanned the darkened foliage with scathing precision. He’d never heard that sound in these woods before — it made his blood run cold.

The sound came again, and this time, Draco leapt back, pulling on Miss Evans’ cloak.

“Get off of me —” Miss Evans shoved him away, but Draco clung on.

The lantern swung wildly, and before Severus could react, could register the ledge, Draco’s foot had slipped, and they were falling backwards — motherfucking shit —

He reached for them, but it was too late, they’d gone over the edge. Severus un-Disillusioned himself and charged forward, listening for their landing before setting off in their direction. He was going to strangle the two of them when he got his hands on them for not paying attention, for taking cheap shots when they should have been paying closer fucking attention, because something like this was bound to have happened —

(I trust you, she’d said)

“Goddammit,” he seethed. “pull yourself together, dammit —”

And then Severus heard Draco begin to scream.

————

The fall over the ledge didn’t register until Ariel’s shoulder hit the ground again. They tumbled over heads and limbs, through leaves and snow and dirt until they finally stopped in a small clearing. Somewhere above them, Fang began to bark wildly, whining and woofing, like he was upset that they’d left him all alone.

Ariel sat up, patting her body for her rucksack. Her shoulders sagged in relief when she realized it was still there, and not lying lost on the forest floor, somewhere above them. Malfoy, on the other hand, lifted his hand warily, like he was waking from a bad dream.

“Nice going, numpty.” Ariel muttered. “Good thing you’re not in Gryffindor.”

His head snapped to attention instantly. “Where are we?”

“Not on the path,” she offered, rather unhelpfully. Malfoy sneered at her as she stood, brushing the dirt off her arms and looking at her hands. Luckily, the lantern had come with them, and its soft glow washed over their faces. Everything behind them was shrouded in darkness.

She reached out a hand to Malfoy, but he recoiled, like she’d offered him a flobberworm. For a second, she thought it was the thought of willingly touching her, but when she followed his gaze, she found that he was looking at her, but at something behind her. Ariel skittered back when she heard something give a labored breath, but she quickly found that she had nothing to be afraid of — it was the unicorn, only it didn’t look like it should have.

She felt both pained and horrified, seeing such a beautiful creature laying there like that. She wondered if the fall had managed its legs like that — no, it couldn’t have, it looked so unnatural —

It gave a pained whinny, and it went straight through her heart like an arrow. She was suddenly reminded of the doe made of starlight, and couldn’t believe she’d forgotten about it, forgotten about the feeling that had warmed her from the inside out. The unicorn gave her a similar feeling, and Ariel reached her hand towards it, needing to give it some kind of comfort.

“We — we have to call Hagrid,” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “She’s hurt, but maybe he can save her.”

“Doubt it,” Malfoy said, but she saw his blue eyes flash, like the thought he was really thinking wanted to make itself known. She wondered if that was a Slytherin thing — not wanting to show your true feelings, but having them do it anyway, as if they had a mind of their own.

“Send up the sparks, will you?” she sighed. The unicorn gave another painful sound, this one mournful and low. Ariel bit her lip to keep from crying. She patted its dirty mane, trying to offer some sort of comfort while feeling useless. Hagrid would know what to do — he’d be able to help her.

After a minute or so, Ariel realized that Malfoy hadn’t sent up the sparks, or so much as made a sound. She was about to snap at him, ask him what he was waiting for, when the sound of leaves rustling, of sticks snapping and branches breaking caught her ear.

“Evans —” Malfoy croaked, a trembling finger lifting itself to point at the bushes in front of her.

Ariel knew what it was before she saw it. She could see the darkness bleeding out of the bushes, coating the forest floor like a floodgate opening up.

Her head exploded in pain, like her scar had erupted off the side of her head.

She turned, about to tell Malfoy to run, but it looks like he already had. She could hear the sound of someone tearing through the trees, screaming, but before Ariel could get to her feet and run, she saw a figure slithering out of the shadows. She scrambled backwards on her hands, and the feeling of scissors in her teeth and chaos in her bones was there, shaking the forest floor underneath her. The Thing was hooded, not a mass of smoke and magic and terror anymore. Silver liquid dripped from where Ariel assumed a mouth would be — unicorn blood.

“Tell me,” The Thing hissed at her. “Tell me what it said!”

Ariel’s heart gripped at her throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

have some fire have some fire have some fire

“The letter,” The Thing shrieked, and Ariel choked on her breath. “Tell me what it said!”

haVE SOME FIRE HAVE SOME FIRE —

Her hands had gone numb, but she grappled for her wand, and then, the coin, but they were buried in her rucksack —

The Thing came closer, reaching a bony hand towards her, its fingers gnarled and sharp. Ariel scooted away frantically, a scream clogging her throat, but she couldn’t force it out, the pain was —

She didn’t know what else to do, so she kicked it in the face as hard as she could.

It let out a sound like metal hitting metal, and if she’d been able to move them, she would’ve covered her ears with her hands. The sound went straight through her until it was the only thought in her brain. She screamed right back at it, hoping it would crawl away — she couldn’t see anymore, the pain in her head and her bones too much —

All of a sudden, there was a flash of light, and then a clap of something that shook the air like thunder, only Ariel could feel it in the air crackling. She dug her fingers into the ground, into the dirt, and she could feel it there, too. She curled her arms over her head, not wanting to look, not wanting to see —

Someone was grabbing her hands, pulling them away from her face. She yelled and yelled until she felt a pair of hands — human hands — and forced herself to open her eyes. Snape was there, beside her, pulling her upright. He was asking her things, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying — it sounded like he was underwater, far, far, below her.

“How —” she tried to say, gob smacked. “How the —”

He was saying something, shaking her shoulders, lifting her arms — she realized he was seeing if she was hurt. She still couldn’t hear him, though, the thought more alarming as the seconds dragged by, until there was a sound like air being sucked through a vacuum, and suddenly, all she could hear was Snape, and the noises of the forest trying to drown him out. There were questions, but she could barely register them between all of the swearing — some of them were words Ariel had never heard before, but she supposed they must be swears, because they didn’t fit into the not-swear-words he was throwing at her.

“You saw it?” Ariel pulled at his cloak. “You saw it too, right?”

it wanted the letter

Snape stared at her, his face inches from hers. His hands gripped at her cheek — she could feel his thumb grazing it, wiping something silvery away — unicorn blood.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, and the way he said it told her that this was not the first time he’d asked, and that her lack of an answer was making him angry.

She touched her scar and winced. “N-no, but my scar…”

it wanted the letter

Snape hauled her up. His teeth were bared, his face white — a stark contrast against the darkness that had almost touched her. It had never looked like that before; it had never had a body.

“What was that?” Ariel asked him, tugging on his sleeve. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and she wondered if Snape could hear it.

“I don’t know —”

it knows about the letter

“But it was —”

“I said I don’t fucking know,” there was a wild look in his face, something both primal and ethereal, like Ariel was staring at something her brain couldn’t comprehend.

“It’s killing the unicorns,” Ariel whispered, pointing to the one behind her — its eyes were closed, and the warm feeling had gone from her entirely, which meant it was dead.

it knows about the letter

Snape let out a long hiss, like a snake. His hand gripped her shoulder painfully tight, and Ariel huddled closer to him, afraid that if he let go, it would come back.

“The unicorn —”

“I don’t give a shit about the unicorn,” he snapped. “We’re getting you out of here, or so help me, I will have you in detention until you graduate.”

it wanted the letter it knows about the letter

Ariel touched her scar, and then drew her hand away. There was no blood — she was shocked, she was sure there would be. She could feel it pulsing on her forehead, like it had its own heartbeat.

“What is it?” Snape asked sharply.

why does it want the letter how does it know

She told him.

—————