Severus holed himself in his basement at Spinner’s End for the remainder of the summer. 

Dumbledore was too meddlesome to be trusted to leave him alone at Hogwarts  and Miss Evans was bound to give him a nervous breakdown at some time in the imminent future. While it was certainly inevitable, Severus was determined to delay it as long as possible. 

The rest of the staff was still on holiday, visiting with family or honing in on their own branches of magic. Flitwick always returned boasting about the lectures he gave across the continent while Pomona tried to one-up him with the plants she’d entered in various contents, vegetation she spent all term pruning and picking and perfecting. It was exhausting to know that he was only a few short weeks away from having to interact with people — and even more loathsome, the students — on a regular basis, again. After eleven years of this tedium, it never got any easier. The school year always ended with Severus anticipating its return. 

The isolation in Cokeworth was not so different from the isolation at Hogwarts. Visiting the girl was the first time he could recall having a driving purpose since the war, and he’d failed at it. He tried, with great effort, not to feel guilt ridden about how he’d left her, but he hadn’t known what the fuck to do with himself when he found her bedroom at Petunia’s empty. Those shiteating pustules disguised as Muggles didn’t deserve to live — if he could, he never would have let her return, but there were far bigger threats to the girl than Petunia Dursley. Severus knew that if something did happen to the girl, Petunia wouldn’t give two shits about it. She’d proven that last year, when the girl had run away, and she’d spent the evening toasting over caviar. Someone had to care, even if Miss Evans resented him for it. 

He spent the long days of summer he had remaining brewing, day in and day out. He took breaks to drink more coffee and sleep, but other than that, he worked continuously, trying to drown out the nagging voice in the back of his mind that wondered about Miss Evans. 

Two weeks into his frenzied, and yet, somehow mind-numbing isolation, Severus ran out of ingredients. 

He did not want to risk raiding the Hogwarts storeroom since Dumbledore would know if he were there immediately and bring up what had happened with Petunia. This left him with one option. 

Diagon Alley was particularly lively — too lively for Severus’ tastes — as he made his way to the apothecary. Lily had always told him that he’d own his own business one day, an apothecary like the one he was in now, with inferior potions. Severus had thought the idea small and shallow. She had been hurt when he’d voiced it, but he could never place the shine in her eyes when she’d talked about it. She had wanted to be a Healer but the war had made it impossible for Muggleborns to gain any sort of employment, but he thought it a noble pursuit. Her world had always centered around a family, though — a family she would never get to have. 

Severus thought of the family she’d left behind as he reached for the Valerian sprigs. He wondered if their daughter was sleeping soundly at night. He certainly wasn’t — was insomnia hereditary? He’d always kept extra Dreamless Sleep on hand, for the long nights when he needed to forget, just for a few hours. He should have left some with the girl when he’d found her at Granger’s. 

From his peripheral, there was a flash of carrot-colored hair. Several droves of it, actually, and there was only one family with droves of children. 

“Alright alright, I see Fred, George, Ginny —” 

Gods, there was another one? He’d hoped Weasley-twerp would be the last of them. Not to mention the last thing he needed was those blasted twins getting sight of him outside of school. 

“Hermione? Hermione dear — oh yes, there you are —” 

Shit, if Granger was here, that meant — 

“Where’s Ariel?” Granger called out in a shrill, worried voice. 

Severus felt his stomach lurch. He dropped the Valerian sprigs, nearly upsetting the whole cart. The shopkeeper gave him a dirty look, but Severus didn’t care, he was already making his way out of the store. 

“Does anyone know what she said?” Mother-Weasley called, looking at Weasley-twerp and Granger. 

“I think she sneezed,” Weasley-twerp said, rounding on those horrid twins accusingly. “And you lot were making her nervous!” 

“Oi, don’t blame us!” one of the twins said, holding his hands up in surrender. “We were just giving her a few pointers, is all.” 

Jesus fucking Christ, he had never met a child so prone to wreaking this much havoc. 

“Point me,” Severus hissed down at his pocket watch. He felt his blood pressure begin to skyrocket when it replied Knockturn Alley. 

He found her rather quickly. She was covered in dust and in Muggle clothes, which stuck out like a weed in a field of wildflowers in the dimness of the alleyway. She had on some hideous flannel and Muggle jeans, but it seemed like someone had given the girl a decent haircut, finally. Her hair had grown just below her shoulders, and the thickness of it had taken some of the curl out of it, her hair more wavy now, like Lily’s had been. 

Severus pulled her back into the alleyway. “What are you doing here?” he snarled. “Alone?”

She looked shocked for a moment before she scowled right back at him. “I could say the same to you.” 

His grip tightened on her arm, and she winced. He let go instinctively, but placed his arm on the wall, high above her head, so that his robes were blocking her from sight — and from escaping. “You have three seconds to give me a very good reason —” 

“It was an accident!” Miss Evans said, glaring at him mutinously. Her dark eyes flashed at him like moonlight on a lake. 

“As is every unfortunate case of you being somewhere you shouldn’t.” Severus said flatly. “The redundancy of your mishaps makes your claim weak.” 

“I guess I said the wrong name.” Miss Evans muttered. “Ron invited Hermione and I to come stay with him and they used the Floo. I didn’t mean to end up here, you know. I thought I said Diagon Alley!”

“Obviously,” Severus snapped. “Where are you supposed to be?” 

“With the Weasley’s, getting our textbooks. I was in some creepy shop with Malfoy and his dad.” 

He felt a small shock of panic zip through him. “Did they see you?” 

“No, I hid in a cabinet.” she made a face. “I can see where Malfoy gets it from, though. His dad is a real prat.” 

Severus stifled the urge to roll his eyes. “Your wit knows no bounds.” 

She scowled and crossed her arms defiantly. “What’re you doing here?” 

Ignoring the question, he dropped his arm. “You don’t want to be spotted here — come along.” 

“You said we couldn’t be seen together in public.” 

“Don’t be daft. No one is going to question a Hogwarts professor returning a student to their appropriate party.” 

“I can find them myself.” her eyes shimmered, like a mirage. 

Severus took a step back, her reaction abnormal. She’d never been this dismissive of him before. It took him a moment to realize that something else had happened — or she was still cross from him after her little stunt. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked in a low voice. He raised his wand to run a Diagnostic spell on her, but she dodged his wand by sidestepping him. 

“I —” she swallowed, and when she spoke again, her voice was tight. “I’ve been calling you with the coin and you’ve been ignoring me.” 

Severus felt like he’d been smacked right between the eyes. “What in Merlin’s name are you talking about?” 

“What’s the point in having it if you’re just going to pretend like I don’t exist again?” she demanded. 

The ball of panic he tried to tell himself was rage reignited. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears. “I did no such thing —” 

“I’ve called you every night —” 

“You most certainly have not,” his hand found her arm again. “Are you calling me a liar?” 

She lifted her chin boldly. “Why would I lie?”

Severus was torn between throttling her or dismissing her altogether. He didn’t have time for games — he’d checked that fucking pocketwatch every damn hour, practically. It was Charmed to alert him should she contact him, and it hadn’t given him a single message. He couldn’t have failed at the one thing he’d secretly been hoping to have to do again — a nauseating thought, but he had already had his reckoning. The girl was a weak spot for him. 

Before he could demand that she had it over for inspection, something in her face shifted, like a spool yarn being unwound, faster and faster until her expression shone with realization. 

“Dobby,” she whispered to herself. Her eyes were far away, but focused. 

Dobby? He knew that name from somewhere, but where? 

“Miss Evans,” he began dangerously, thinking it would be enough to catch her attention, but her expression didn’t change. He gave her a little shake. Her eyes flitted back to him, the hurt and anger gone from her thin face. Now, she looked both understanding and confused. Severus could practically see the conflict unfolding behind her eyes. 

“He’s a house elf,” she said, before he could ask. 

It clicked, then. That was the name of Lucius’ house elf — he had several, but Dobby was the one he called on most often. The little nitwit was in a state of incurable hysteria the majority of the time. 

Severus was now taken off guard for the — fifth? sixth? — time in the past ten minutes. “You know a house elf named Dobby?” 

“I should have known,” she was talking to herself again, and it was disturbingly Granger-esque. “He was taking the letters… he must’ve messed with the coin…” 

He did not enjoy being the unknowing party, especially when it came to a girl who had been a stone’s throw away from being possessed and murdered by a deranged madman. A feeling of dread was boiling in his gut, one the cloak of Occlumency that he wore could not shield him from. 

Miss Evans must have seen his face and realized that he was dangerously close to becoming a deranged madman himself, because she very quickly began to tell him about her visitor the night of her birthday, just after Severus had left her. He listened intently, throwing up a Silencing spell around them just in case. They were still in public, but the alley was quiet. Miss Evans had taken one of the less trafficked routes out. 

As he listened, Severus found himself equal parts perplexed and concerned. The elf wouldn’t have been able to find Miss Evans if he meant harm, which meant that he thought there was an actual, credible threat to the girl’s life.Keeping the letters from the girl’s cronies had to have been only the first step in some larger scheme to keep the girl from Hogwarts, but Severus’ presence must have thrown a considerable wrench into things. The elf wouldn’t have undone Severus’ magic on the coin, knowing it would have instantly triggered suspicion. No, he’d waited until he’d known for certain Severus wasn’t coming back and then delivered his warning. 

The coin being meddled with brought an entirely new level of molten rage into frame. Severus couldn’t fault the house elf for warning her if he thought the girl's life was at risk, but he could certainly break a few fingers for keeping him from his child. 

If Lucius was planning something, it would have to be something that wouldn’t harm Draco, otherwise, he would never put his one and only heir in harm’s way. Not to mention that Narcissa would make the Dark Lord look tame in comparison if anything happened to her son. What could Lucius possibly have concocted that wouldn’t backfire? What did he have access to of such a caliber? 

He couldn’t have been in contact with the Dark Lord — there was no possible way he would come out of that reunion unscathed after publicly denouncing him. The only ones who would be welcomed back without repercussions were those in Azkaban, and Dumbledore had made mention over the years that Bellatrix had better stay locked up. 

It could have been complete hogwash — but the elf wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to keep the girl from Hogwarts if he truly thought she’d been in danger. He could only imagine what punishment awaited him if Lucius found out. 

Miss Evans handed him the coin when she was done. “Can you tell if someone messed with it?” 

He gave her a long, bored sort of look. “Yes, Miss Evans, I can detect if my spells have been tampered with.” 

She scowled at him, dropping it into his palm. “You can fix it, right?”

“If I cast them once, what makes you think I can’t do so again?” 

She threw her hands up in exasperation. “I think you like being angry all the time.” 

Severus ignored her, but distantly, he could have sworn Dumbledore had said something similar on more than one occasion. He cast a series of Diagnostic spells on the coin, reading the results as they lit up before them, confirming the girl’s suspicions — this was house elf magic, and the Charm he’d placed on it had been stripped. 

The Tracking Charm had been left in place — smart elf. Severus didn’t want to know what he would’ve done if he’d been unable to find the girl today. 

He recast the Charms with reinforcements this time, ensuring he would be the only one to remove them and handed it back to the girl. She watched him with wide, curious eyes. 

“What does it mean?” she asked hesitantly. “He said whatever was coming is worse than Voldemort.”

He flinched at the name, but his insides had gone cold, like all of his organs had been plucked out of him. 

“It means nothing,” Severus said, but he was lying. He could feel the pinpricks of uncertainty in his fingertips, not overwhelming, but enough that he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he knew exactly what the elf was talking about. “It could very well be utter nonsense.” 

She didn’t look convinced. “And if it’s not? He went through loads of trouble to keep those letters — and you — away. Dr Granger’s car even broke down the other day, we were supposed to meet the Weasley’s then. He took it to three mechanics and none of them could figure out what was wrong. It only started working once he said we’d have to do it another day.” 

Well, the little shit was persistent, if anything. 

“Noted,” Severus dissolved the Silencing spell, and motioned for her to follow. He didn’t want to feed into the girl’s questions, nothing good would come of it. He could only imagine what her and the other two brats had done with this information already, and he was determined to squash it. There would not be another incident like the Stone. As soon as she was back with the Weasley brood he was going straight to Dumbledore, and then, Malfoy Manor. 

The girl had seen Lucius here, though — if Severus ran into him, it would look far less suspicious — 

“You’re not worried?” Miss Evans did not move from the alleyway. She stared up at him with narrowed eyes, her face filled to them brim with unadulterated, unmasked Gryffindor suspicion. 

“I will take care of it.” Nothing will happen to you. 

“But —” 

“I said I will take care of it.” he snapped. “Do not concern yourself with it any longer.”

She kicked at the ground. “Yeah, okay… fine.” 

“We’ve been here too long,” he said, scanning the alleyway — they were beginning to be noticed. Faceless shadows were melting from the walls, out of hidden stores and passageways. He gave her a small push forward, keeping her partially hidden beneath his cloak. 

She scuttled beside him a bit too eagerly. “We were supposed to go to Gringotts first, I think.” 

“Fascinating,” he replied, but his mouth tasted sour. Potter’s galleons and wealth were paying for his own child’s education — would pay for the rest of her life, really. He wondered if there was a way to rectify that, surely Dumbledore could arrange something so that Severus could pay without leaving a paper trail… 

“Speaking of money,” she slowed down, and this annoyed Severus greatly. “Draco’s dad was trying to sell some things, it sounded like.”

The man was planning on unleashing something onto Hogwarts, but was worried about the recent Ministry raids? Fucking hell, Severus couldn’t make this type of crackpot nonsense up if he tried. 

“Nothing good was ever heard from eavesdropping.” he said dismissively. 

Speak for yourself, whispered Conscience. He felt the irony twist his gut. 

“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop —” 

“No, you only managed to finagle your way into a situation in which you are entirely out of your depth.” 

She stopped short to glower at him again. It was damn near impressive how familiar the arch of her eyebrows were, and a bit unnerving. Sometimes, he wondered if as she grew, the resemblance to himself would become more apparent. He certainly hoped not, but at least she hadn’t been cursed with his fucking nose. 

Severus sighed impatiently. “The more you dawdle, the more worried your friends will become.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, like you care about my friends.” 

“I said nothing about how much I care, only that your absence is cause for concern.” 

“That’s why you came and found me then, is it?” she cocked her head up at him. “How’d you find me so fast anway?” 

“Magic,” he said, with only a touch of mockery. 

In Severus’ peripheral, he could see that they’d drawn some attention from the more unsavory characters he’d been afraid the girl would’ve bumped into alone. Heads were popping out of doors and windows, murmurs and head jerks in the girl’s direction. He would never tell her, but a piece of the Girl-Who-Lived would fetch a high price in Knockturn Alley. 

She still looked nettled, but the corners of her lips curved upwards. She shuffled her feet and peered up at him hesitantly. “I’m glad to see you, either way.”

Something uncomfortably warm shifted inside his sternum. He couldn’t place whether it was a rush of affection or pleasant surprise, but his reaction surprised him more than her actual words. 

He put his hand to her forehead. 

“Did you hit your head on the mantle?” he asked. 

Miss Evans snorted and shook him off. “No, but I think there’s dust in my socks.” 

He pointed his wand at her, blowing away any excess dust. She was right — she was covered in it, which caused her to erupt into a fit of coughing. “Thanks,” she managed to rasp out, shaking out of the sleeves of her flannel. A cloud permeated around her. 

It didn’t take them long to relocate the gaggle of Weasley-spawn. It seemed that Mrs Weasley had only just rounded them up and was loudly calling over the sea of heads where they should start looking for the girl. When she caught sight of them, however, she seemed to sag with relief. 

“Uh oh,” one of the twins said. “She's Floo’d herself into detention before school even starts.” 

Severus made a mental note to have them scrub bedpans first thing when term began again — he’d meet them at the bloody train to send a message, if he had to. Gods, he hated children.

“Shut up, Fred,” Weasley-twerp hissed at him. 

Granger practically threw herself at the girl. “We were so worried — are you okay?”

Mrs Weasley had bustled over, her handbag swinging wildly. She checked over the girl, as if Severus would have let her walk around with any sort of injury. He should have expected it, he could only imagine what the majority of the students said about him, especially those horrid twins. 

“Oh my dear, you could’ve ended up anywhere —” Mrs Weasley fretted. 

Severus bit his tongue as the girl shot him a knowing look. 

“Where’d you end up?” Weasley-twerp asked. 

Miss Evans peered at Severus from the corners of her eyes before answering. “Knockturn Alley.” 

“Excellent,” the twins chorused together. Mrs Weasley shook her head fiercely at them in disapproval. 

“Well thank goodness you’re alright, dear.” she brushed off her sleeves, and gave her arm a squeeze. “And thank you, Professor Snape, for bringing her back. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.” 

“It was,” he said, earning himself a look of outrage from the hoard of Weasley-spawn. Miss Evans sent him a dense sort of look that said “really?” 

“Well, let’s go, then,” Mrs Weasley ushered them along. “We’ll meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour — Ginny, do you have your list? We’ll go separately to see if we can get your robes secondhand…”

Miss Evans waited a moment before she turned back to him, giving him a halfhearted wave. “Bye,” 

Severus watched her go and waited until they were out of sight to Disillusion himself. There was no goddamn way he was letting the girl go unattended. Merlin only knew what else would unfold before the day was out. 

How he wished he was wrong. 

—--------

Hermione kept giving Ariel private little looks, ones that wanted to know what had happened, but she waited until they’d parted with the rest of the Weasleys before she told them what she’d overheard in Borgin and Burkes with Draco’s father. 

They’d stopped at Gringotts for spending money, which had made Ariel feel terribly uncomfortable. She wished she could’ve gone off to her vault by herself — or at least with just Hermione — but there was no way to hide the piles of galleons and jewels in the Potter vault. 

It made her squirm knowing she wasn’t taking from her actual family vault anymore. She tried desperately to shake the feeling, especially when she watched Mrs Weasley throw only a handful of sickles into her handbag with a tight smile. She should have been grateful and she was, but there was this other feeling, like she was stealing secrets. Ariel wanted to offer to buy Ginny’s things so that Mrs Weasley wouldn’t have to shop secondhand but Hermione only shook her head at her when she’d suggested it. Ron had gone redder than his hair (and hers, for that matter, which was much darker) and mumbled that she shouldn’t feel obligated, his parents would figure it out.

After they’d left the rest of the Weasleys, Ariel bought the three of them the biggest bunches of cotton candy she’d ever seen from a cart and filled them in on what she’d overheard in Knockturn Alley and what Snape had said about Dobby. 

“Dad would love to get Lucius Malfoy for something, I bet.” Ron was grinning ear to ear. “Wait till we tell him later.” 

“He wasn’t buying, he was just selling.” Ariel wondered how the haggling had gone, she had a feeling he’d be very good at it… or at least, intimidating the shopkeeper into giving him a good deal. “He seemed a bit tense, though. Malfoy kept pestering him about a broom.” 

Ron doubled over with laughter, nearly choking on the cotton candy. Hermione had to give him a few whacks on the back so he didn’t choke. “That’s a riot — imagine Malfoy on the Slytherin Quidditch team!”

“He was pretty good in Flying lessons,” Hermione admitted. Ariel rolled her eyes. 

“He was alright,” Ron, waving her off dismissively. “There are much better flyers in our year in Slytherin that would get a spot over that prat.” 

“Pansy would just about die,” Ariel said, and then regretted it, because she had been forced to think about her for the first time in months. She reminded her of Aunt Petunia, pointing out her small size and ugly hair and dead parents. If Dobby had somehow made her and Pansy Housemates, then Ariel might’ve considered not returning to Hogwarts. “I would still trade my wand arm to know what Malfoy’s dad was selling. Snape wasn’t exactly helpful.”

“Are you surprised?” Ron asked, looking at her expectantly. 

“Not really,” I was just disappointed. 

“And he said nothing about Dobby?” Hermione asked as they pushed their way into their third bookstore. Caroline had told Hermione she could only get five books, besides the ones for school, of course. Hermione had bought seven already. 

“Nope,” Ariel scanned the aisles, looking for Snape and wondering if they’d bump into him again, but she knew better. “He fixed the coin, though. He didn’t seem all that interested in the Malfoys either.” 

“That’s strange,” Ron said, making a face at a shelf of books they’d passed Percy would have cried tears of joy over — Prefects Who Gained Power. “The Malfoys are bad news.” 

“I mean, yeah, to us,” Ariel tried to shield the section on house elves with her back. Two of the seven books Hermione had already bought were related and she’d already voiced wanting to get another. “But to everyone else?”

“Oh yeah, loads of people.” he said, his face darkening. “Malfoy’s parents were supporters of You-Know-Who.” 

“Really?” Ariel asked at the same time Hermione snapped, “Ronald, you don’t know that for sure!” 

“Dad said so,” he shot back. “He told me once that Draco’s dad bought his way out of Azkaban, made a whole bunch of hefty donations to St. Mungos and stuff. Mum was furious with him, but he’s been trying to nab Mr Malfoy on something for ages.” 

It wasn’t exactly surprising, but Ariel couldn’t help but digest this information slowly as they walked about. She wondered if Snape knew that. She wondered if she asked him, if he’d tell her. Sometimes asking Snape things was a multi-layered mission, mostly because getting a straight answer out of him was like trying to decode a map that led to the lost city of Atlantis or something. Everything that came out of his mouth was either an insult or very cleverly disguised double talk. Ariel would bet her vault full of galleons he’d make a great secret agent.

After perusing the bookstore, Hermione and Ariel had gotten new parchment, ink, and a set of matching quills. She also found a book on potions that, after perusing through it, seemed to be a beginners guide to inventing your own. She would’ve loved to have had it while still at the Dursleys and bored out of her skull and wondered if they’d discovered the batch she’d had in the attic yet. It had been two weeks, it must’ve smelled something awful by now. 

With that thought in mind, Ariel was feeling much better as they met the Weasleys at Flourish and Blotts. 

That was, until she met Gilderoy Lockhart. 

—--------

After shadowing the little nitwits for an hour, Severus found that children had even less of an attention span than he’d been previously led to believe. 

He had been correct in assuming they’d been scheming, because the second they separated from the rest of the group, the three of them huddled their heads and whispered loudly amongst themselves. Severus was enough of a distance away, but he knew exactly what they were talking about. It didn’t take a genius to deduce they’d been wondering what the house elf could have possibly meant, and right now, three twelve year old Gryffindors sticking their noses into things they couldn’t possibly understand was a bigger threat than anything Lucius could have done. They could huddle and gossip and speculate, but couldn’t spend more than ten minutes at any of the fucking shops lining the alley. 

They had ended up in front of Flourish and Blotts with the rest of the Weasley-spawn. She-Weasley whispered something to Granger and Miss Evans that made Granger go bright red but the girl found it amusing. She pointed up to the front of the store, where a rather large mass of people were beginning to gather. 

Severus then regrettably caught sight of the banner in the window, a rush of loathing flowing through him like a current breaking through a dam. It was enough that the students had no structure when it came to Defensive magic, but to give the position to Gilderoy Lockhart — who’s own self infatuation was so large that it would only hinder any sort of learning — seemed irresponsible. None of the rest of the staff had children, but Severus found himself not only infuriated over being passed over yet again, but because of his own child’s education in an area she desperately needed to have a firm grasp of. The most the little shits had learned had probably come from Dumbledore, who practically turned into a beam of light when Miss Evans had approached him at the end of last year and expressed how much she’d enjoyed it. 

The girl and her cronies melded into the crowd. At the front, Severus could hear applause as Lockhart waltzed out. It was almost hard to believe that there was someone who could outdo Dumbledore in terms of outlandish fashion — and Dumbledore wore sequins, sometimes. Severus usually avoided the Great Hall on those days, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stomach anything in such company. 

The girl did not look impressed. In fact, her and Weasley-twerp snickered as Granger shot them a cross look. Severus was surprised to see her caught in rapturous infatuation like everyone else in the crowd. 

“It can’t be Ariel Evans!” Lockhart called across the sea of heads, who snapped in the girl’s direction.

Miss Evans looked like she had a broomstick for a spine. She went so rigid so quickly that she seemed almost frozen before she began backing away. The crowd parted like a black hole, sucking her forward. 

“No, no thank you—” Miss Evans was protesting, 

Severus un-Disillusioned himself and stepped forward into the crowd of insipid, hormonal halfwits. 

She somehow managed to spot him, but after reevaluating his surroundings, he realized that he probably stuck out quite a bit. The majority of the crowd were women and children and Severus was the creep who stalked Hogwarts’ dungeons. Her face clearly read “help me” as the photographer motioned for her to join Lockhart in front of the camera, and the girl was refusing to move any closer. 

Lockhart’s hand tugged back a strand of hair from her face. She slapped his hand away, her expression both shocked and annoyed, but no one else seemed to notice. 

If he touched her again, Severus was going to slice his hand clean off. Dumbledore would be displeased, but Lockhart would be fine with only one manicured set of nails. Maybe he’d write another fucking book about it. 

“Nice big smile, Ariel,” Lockhart said through teeth that put the brightness of the lights to shame. “Together, you and I are worth the front page.” 

He grabbed her hand in a handshake. The girl looked like she wanted the ceiling to crush them all to death. 

“C’mon lass, smile —” the photographer crooned. 

Good enough for me, Severus thought, unsheathing his wand from his sleeve. If Dumbledore could get him out of Azkaban for being a Death Eater, he could certainly get him out for assault. 

“Move,” Severus snarled at a pair of younger witches, who were pressed up against one another to push the line forward. They gave him a look of outrage as he tried to shove past them, but there were too many bloody fucking people. 

The girl shot Lockhart a glare Severus was almost impressed with. He might’ve even been proud if she’d thrown the camera a rude gesture as it clicked, wafting thick smoke in front of Severus’ view of her. He could hear Lockhart making some obnoxiously loud announcements about his tenure at Hogwarts and free textbooks. 

She wretched free of him only to be saddled with a pile of books that was almost as big as her. She quickly dumped them into She-Weasley’s cauldron as Granger beamed. Severus couldn’t hear what they were saying over the applause and excited chatter, but Lockhart seemed to be done with her. He put away his wand for now, but if he exploited her again for the press, Dumbledore was going to have to find a new Defense professor. He’d be doing them all a favor, really. 

When he looked back to Miss Evans, Lucius and Draco had materialized beside her. Fucking shit — where the hell had they — 

He watched closely as the girl balled her fists at her sides. Lucius eyed her with an air of sinister curiosity and disgust, while Draco looked like he was going to start swinging at Weasley-twerp, who probably already would have had he not been carrying a pile of books. Severus stood still, waiting — Lucius wouldn’t do anything in plain sight, but Severus felt the hairs of the back of his neck stand up straight. Anxiety and worry pulsed through him but he forced it down down down — 

Arthur Weasley finally intervened. Severus was relieved for about twenty-two seconds, until his fist collided with Lucius’ left eye. 

For fuck’s sake, had everyone lost their damn mind? He looked at the girl, but Granger had pulled her away from the brawl. The Weasley-spawn cheered the same way they would a Quidditch match. The midst of the shouting and the shopkeeper desperately trying to break them up, Severus saw his opportunity. 

Severus positioned himself outside so that when Lucius broke through the crowd with Draco a moment or so later, Severus was standing there, looking bored and off put by the raucous display. Lucius was sporting what would undoubtedly turn into a black eye. 

“You’ll need jewelweed for that,” he said. 

Lucius stopped, irate, but seemed to settle when he saw who had spoken. He tilted his head. “Severus — you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

He could only imagine what he looked like. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d had a shower. 

“Mother’s said she’s Owled you for brunch.” Draco said, who immediately looked like he regretted it. He eyed his father cautiously, but Lucius was unphased. 

She had — it had been earlier in the summer, when he’d still be visiting the girl. “I was away — traveling.” 

“I see,” Lucius glanced down at Draco. “I believe it was to discuss our son joining the Quidditch team.” 

Severus couldn’t have given a flying fuck about Quidditch, but he did what he had to. “I’ll certainly see what I can do.” 

Lucius smiled. “You’ve always had more sense than most, Severus.” 

Draco looked rather pleased, but his expression quickly darkened. Severus turned to see the Weasleys exiting the bookstore, the girl and Granger trailing behind as Mrs Weasley shouted angrily. The girl craned her head about, searching until their eyes met. 

Her face fractured when she saw him, and who he was with. 

Disappointment, maybe even a touch of betrayal. That had been the worst glare Lily had given him — hatred he could handle, but not the knowing glower of I expected better of you. No one ever had, except for Lily, and now their daughter. The difference was that Lily had known what he’d been capable of, and their daughter hadn’t even begun to scratch the surface. 

“What do you know about her, Severus?” Lucius asked in an offhand manner, like it was an afterthought. Severus knew better though — he wouldn’t have wasted his breath on Miss Evans if he wasn’t interested. 

“There isn’t much to know,” Severus said, trying to keep his voice smooth. “What have you heard?”

“I know that she beat my son to a pulp,” Lucius glared at Draco like a bug stuck to his shoe. The boy went pink. 

“She is…” the only twelve-year-old with this many mortal enemies. “Temperamental.” 

“Interesting,” he said, and his tone told Severus he didn’t find it interesting at all. “you would think the limelight would curb any of those Muggle impulses. Although, her surname seems more fitting now, knowing that even with a year of magical training, nothing could really wash her of that Muggle upbringing.” 

Severus had a brief mental image of his fist closing around Lucius' throat, his face turning purple as he gasped and struggled and begged. He mournfully let it pass. 

“Just look at the company she keeps,” Lucius motioned to the Weasleys and Granger with a look of abhorrent disgust. 

“Weasley is the worst,” Draco muttered under his breath. “And Evans, with her stupid scar, thinking she’s worth the front page of the Prophet —” 

“Yes, you’ve mentioned that quite enough,” Lucius said sharply. Draco’s mouth snapped shut audibly.

“They’ll learn their lesson soon enough,” he then said in a voice so low, Severus almost had to strain to hear it. His grey eyes flitted from the girl to the Weasleys, who were making their way away from the bookstore. 

His heart skipped a beat and then doubled time. 

Severus raised his eyebrows in mock interest. “Do tell,” 

Lucius only smiled, one that stretched his mouth in all the wrong ways. “Delay is a bitter tonic,” he said. “But it increases appetite.” 

—--------------

Ariel sat up in bed, fiddling with the coin. Below her, on the bottom bunk, Ginny was snoring, and Hermione was still awake on the floor reading a book on house elves she’d bought while at Diagon Alley that day. 

She couldn’t sleep, or rather, she hadn’t been able to sleep. There were too many jumbled thoughts racing through her head and she didn’t know where to begin. Take care of it, Snape had said. What did that even mean? How did he expect Ariel to just forget about the terrible thing that was coming to Hogwarts? 

(she wished she’d had a warning last year, too)

It made her feel a little better knowing he hadn’t been purposefully ignoring her. She’d thought his brain was going to come steaming out of his ears when she’d told him what she suspected Dobby of doing, but he hadn’t lost it on her like he had last time. He just wore that condescending sneer… until he didn’t, and for a moment, it would feel like he maybe did care just a little bit about her and not because her mum had told him to. 

Scrubbing that thought from her mind, Ariel flipped the coin through her fingers. She’d been so relieved to see him in Knockturn Alley, especially after just barely missing the Malfoys. 

And Snape knew the Malfoys — he talked with Draco’s dad for a few minutes, sending her Don’t You Dare You Idiot glares from outside the store, even though she wanted to march over and demand to know everything. Mr Malfoy had looked down at her like she was a bug he couldn’t wait to squash. He looked at Draco that way too, sometimes. She’d seen it in the creepy shop in Knockturn Alley and in Flourish and Blotts. She could say loads about Snape, but he’d never looked at her that way — like she was disappointing him. The thought made her stomach do backflips. 

I don’t see what all the fuss is about — Lucius sounded a whole lot like Snape, but Snape had never insulted how she looked. Then again, looks didn’t seem to matter much to Snape. His hair had been sticking together in greasy clumps. Lucius’ hair looked like it had gotten a blow-dry or something. 

Fred and George had said Ariel and Mr Weasley could start their own club now, since they’d both punched a Malfoy in the face. Mrs Weasley had gotten so mad that she’d made them eat supper in their rooms, but when Ariel had gone to use the loo later, they’d told her they were going to get her a badge of honor. 

The day had sort of been mental, now that Ariel thought about it. How had Snape known where she was, though? Was he tracking her somehow? That seemed like a very Snape thing to do, but how — 

She glanced down at the coin. There was no way… 

Except there was. Snape could be sneaky that way, but so could she, if she wanted to. 

“Hermione?” she asked in a whisper, careful not to wake Ginny. “I’m going to go for a walk.” 

She sat up, already halfway through Your House Elf and You. “Now? Ariel, it’s the middle of the night!” 

“You’re still up,” Ariel pointed out. “Besides, I can’t sleep.” 

Hermione pursed her lips. “Where are you going?” 

She held up the coin wordlessly. Hermione’s eyes fell back down to the book, like she was about to look up the right answer. “You really shouldn’t…” 

“They won’t even know I’m gone.” 

Hermione sighed as Ariel slid off the bed quietly. Ginny had begun to snore lightly. Underneath her pillow, Ariel could see the edge of a book tucked away. Ginny didn’t seem like the type of person to have a diary but Ariel wasn’t judging. 

“Do you have to do it now?” Hermione bit her lip. 

“He owes me,” Ariel said, trying to sound indifferent, but the hurt of the last time he’d seen her still stung a bit. 

“You’ll come straight back when you’re done?” 

“I will,” she promised. “If I’m not back in an hour, wake the Weasleys. The gnomes had probably taken me as a hostage.” 

Hermione smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Be careful, okay? I’ll watch from the window.” 

Ariel crept down the stairs and through the kitchen. The Weasley’s clock ticked away softly, everyone accounted for. The chaos from dinner was still cleaning itself, even though everyone had been in bed for a few hours now. When she’d passed Fred and George’s room, she could see the light underneath the door changing colors. She could only imagine what they were up to at this hour. 

She trekked up the hill behind their house, twisting the coin around her fingers. If she got to the treeline and nothing happened, she was going to head straight back. There was a log up ahead she could wait on if anything, just so she didn’t get lost. The last thing she wanted to do was worry the Weasley’s, but if her theory was correct, Snape should be showing up right about — 

There was a sharp crack, like thunder had struck and then regretted it. When Ariel spun around he was there, fists balled tightly at his sides. 

Ariel bit back a smile. 

—---------------

The girl looked like she was trying to swallow back some smarmy remark as she tucked the coin back into her pocket. She was clearly not supposed to be out here, which she must have known, because she was wearing a ridiculously oversized Quiddtich t-shirt, no doubt courtesy of one of the Weasley-spawn, and mismatched socks. Her Muggle sneakers were on the wrong feet. 

Sometimes, Severus wondered how the girl had made it this long. He’d Apparated as soon as his pocketwatch had alerted him — he’d done that in case she ended up somewhere she shouldn’t, like tonight, when it had lit up a bright crimson and read forest. 

He had a feeling this was no accident, though. He knew it for certain when she crossed her arms at him, as if to say, “well, get on with it, then.” 

The trees rustled around them, as if waiting with baited breath for one of them to break the silence. Severus could feel the urgency leaving him, replaced with an irksome, suspicious feeling, one that settled into his brain like fog.

“I’m very cross with you,” she said when he didn’t speak.  

He wanted to be angrier but he couldn’t find the strength to. “If you summoned me here to try to speak to my conscience —” 

“Does the Tracking charm work both ways?” Miss Evans interrupted. 

He’d forgotten how unforgivingly blunt she could be. Lily had been the same way. She’d been worse, though. When she’d gotten emotional — angry, sad, disappointed, even joyful — it was like a stream of consciousness. He tried to think of whether that was genetic or a symptom of being a Gryffindor. 

Well, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he’d been keeping an eye on her whereabouts. He was surprised she hadn’t put two and two together sooner. 

“I don’t know,” Severus replied nastily. “Does it?” 

Her smugness faltered. “I don’t know how to use it that way.” 

“Then perhaps you should concern yourself with expanding your knowledge of Charms,” he said bitingly. “Instead of crying wolf. If you pull this nonsense again, I will let the minotaur or werewolf or whatever it is have its way with you.” 

Her face flickered, like a candle about to be doused. “I wanted to talk to you, too.” 

CHILDREN — he wanted to scream. 

He closed his eyes. “We already spoke today.” 

“Not enough.” 

MORE than enough, you ridiculous girl — 

He could feel the tension in his temples blossoming into a migraine. “Then — what —” he forced through clenched teeth. “Is — it?” 

“You were right about Lockhart,” she said, kicking the dirt. 

He’d never wanted to string someone's bowels through their nose so badly in his life. He hadn’t felt hatred like that since Potter. The Dark Lord and Quirrell fell into a separate category entirely. 

“He is a blithering idiot,” Severus said coolly. “We established this already.” 

“Well I was right about Lucius Malfoy, too,” she stared him straight in the eye, then, her precision like an arrow. “He is a real prat.” 

Severus’ eyes narrowed. “You should have walked away.” 

“Draco started it,” she argued childishly. “You should have heard what they were saying about Ron’s family.” 

“I can imagine,” the girl made a sound of pure outrage at this. “The Malfoys think themselves above most things — even the law.”

Her expression changed and shifted into one of coldness. She paused, like she was debating whether or not to say whatever she was thinking. “Are you — friends with the Malfoys? I saw you talking with them.” 

Severus blinked. “I’m not friends with anyone.” 

“You were friends with Mum.” 

Of fucking course she would mention that. “That was different.” 

“How?” 

She was the only one that mattered

“Lucius and I,” he paused. “worked very closely for some time.”

The girl quirked an eyebrow at him. “Where?” 

Murdering, looting, spying — 

“Very briefly after I graduated from Hogwarts,” he paused. “He assisted me in a potions apprenticeship.” And brought me to the Dark Lord to be Marked. 

She still didn’t look convinced. “Ron said… said that Draco’s family supported Voldemort.” 

Severus went very still, keeping his face smooth as glass. 

She grimaced, and sat down on the log, her face deep in thought. She looked lost, and even though he wanted to throttle her, the anger began to dissipate. It was replaced with a hollow feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach, one that ached. 

“What is it now?” Severus asked, exasperated. His head was throbbing. 

The girl didn’t answer. She picked up a stick and impaled the ground with it repeatedly. 

“My verbal articulation has been lost on my offspring, apparently.” he said flatly. 

She rolled her eyes and threw the stick into the darkness. “What if… what if what happened last year happens again? I just can’t help thinking with people like the Malfoys around… and Dobby…”

Severus stiffened, but she hadn’t made the connection — she couldn’t have. First thing in the morning he’d go to Dumbledore and tell him what he’d found, but for tonight, he was working on something that would keep the girl safe. It wouldn’t be ready for a while but he would make sure she had it when the time came. 

“I just hate that I was used,” she said. Her eyes flashed like a lighthouse, sending its signal out to sea, searching and searching for someone. 

I won’t let it happen again, he wanted to say, but that wasn’t what she wanted to hear — needed to hear. It weighed her down on that log, her back hunched over as she stared at the dirt and her backwards shoes. 

“There are very few people that can say they have survived an encounter with the Dark Lord,” Severus said. “It speaks far more to your strength that even under his influence, you survived.”

The girl’s eyes burned gold. Her face twitched like she wanted to smile — or cry. Gods, if she started fucking crying, Severus was going to — 

“I told Hermione an hour,” the girl said. “Then she’s supposed to alert the cavalry.” 

Severus glanced down at the pocket watch. “It’s nearly midnight.” 

“Do you have somewhere to be?” 

“Do you have someone else to harass?” 

“Hermione’s reading and Ginny’s asleep.” the girl glanced at the empty spot on the log and then back at him. 

Something tugged at Severus, beneath the smoldering anger, that pulled him towards the log.