Severus penned a single note.

You are relieved of your detentions for the remainder of holiday. Do not leave your dormitory after curfew again, if you do not wish to suffer a far worse punishment.

Professor S.S.

He set down the quill and stared down at the parchment. There hadn’t been a visit from the darkness in weeks. The girl would be fine, Severus would keep an eye on her. It’s not like he had classes of moronic children to teach for the next week and a half, but he would not put himself in a position where they were forced to interact. He couldn’t handle that, after tonight.

He continued to study the paper. It should have been gone already, sent without a second thought, but there it sat, the words waiting to be dismissed from view.

Severus… did not want to send it.

This realization was a crushing blow to Severus’ ego, like he’d taken a Stunner to the chest. He had tried so hard not to care, not to let the girl through his walls, and somehow, she had. Maybe it was genetic, a biological weapon Severus had never seen coming. Maybe resistance was futile. Miss Evans was a part of him, and he was a part of her, no matter how hard Severus tried to deny it. And… it was almost impossible to ignore the nagging voice that told him not to send this note to her.

Severus buried his face in his hands. This had to be the lingering effects of the Mirror. Miss Evans had, as she always did, taken Severus completely off guard.

He stared at the note, and then, with a flippant flick of his wrist, sent it. The girl would see it when she woke, and she would not understand. It was best this way. Miss Evans could see no more than she already had, and in order to keep this… thing from festering any more, Severus needed a few days to collect himself.

“She will be fine,” Severus muttered into his hands. “she’ll be safe.”

The emptiness of his quarters echoed his words around him, over and over again, until morning came.

————

Tell me

She knew that voice, cold and high —

Tell me what it says

It was looking for her, but it already knew where she was, it just needed a way in.

The wanderer weary

She stood with her back turned, hair cascading down her back.

Tell me what you know

The woman turned from the mirror, and suddenly, all there was was a bright, green light —

Full of fear

Ariel awoke, her body tangled in the sheets. The only sound in the room was her panting, her hair sticky against her clammy forehead. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, trying to steady her breathing. It was still dark outside, and Ariel wished more than ever that Hermione was here. She would’ve shaken her awake and told her what she’d seen, what she’d heard, and Hermione would’ve scooched over in her own bed and let Ariel sleep beside her.

But Hermione wasn’t here. Even Lavender or Parvati snoring away would’ve been comforting, because it would’ve meant that Ariel wasn’t alone, peeking into the dark corners of the room and praying that the Giant Smoke Monster wasn’t climbing it’s way towards her.

Her scar burned, though. It felt like it was going to crack open like an egg, when she’d woken up.

She reached over to her bedside table, fumbling for Snape’s coin, when her hands found a folded note instead. It had her name on the front, in Snape’s handwriting. Her excitement quickly dissipated, though, after she read it. Ariel had known it was coming, in one form or another. Snape had known she’d snuck out after curfew and sent him on a very long game of cat and mouse.

It hurt more than it should have, to be written off, but Ariel recalled his face staring into the Mirror, how his emotionless mask had cracked right down the middle for a moment. It had hurt to look at it, because…

The only thing Snape could ever want was the one thing he couldn’t have.

She crushed the note in her fist.

————

“An Invisibility Cloak,” Severus said, letting his voice convey every inch of his displeasure. “You gave the girl an Invisibility Cloak.”

Dumbledore gazed up at him with a meekness Severus didn’t believe for one second. “Well, given the circumstances my boy, I would have hoped it would put your mind at ease.”

Severus bit out a snarl, fists balling at his sides as he paced the length of Dumbledore’s desk. Back and forth, back and forth, his boots slamming against the stone as Dumbledore watched him, a curious twinkle in his blue eyes.

“Where the hell did you even get it?” he bit out, a taste in his mouth like metal. “Don’t tell me it was in that damn trunk at Petunia’s all this time.”

“James left it with me just before he and Lily went into hiding. There were extenuating circumstances within the order that facilitated a need for it.”

“And you’ve decided to give it to Lily’s daughter.” Severus said flatly. “How touching.”

“I will admit that I was quite disturbed when you imparted Ariel’s recent visitations to me.” Dumbledore said heavily. “Whatever Tom is up to, if she needs cover, the Invisibility Cloak will grant it to her. She’ll be hidden from whatever agent he is using.”

Severus felt like a caged animal, trapped, desperate, panicked, and the feeling was growing steadily, not giving any signs of letting up. He hadn’t been able to sleep, his dreams haunted by the girl’s terrified expression, his nose pressed up to the glass of that miserable fucking Mirror. He thought of the hunger in her thin face, and wondered if Lily had stared back at her similarly. There was a small tug in the back of his mind, one that delighted in the fact that Miss Evans had not seen Potter, but he and Lily.

It had kept Seveus awake, envious that he could not see what Miss Evans had, but equally horrified by it. It was a dangerous thought, a deadly dream. He supposed that was why Dumbledore had chosen to reveal himself that night. If Miss Evans had gone back to the Mirror again and again…

Dumbledore’s intervention at the Mirror had been an act of mercy, and this made Severus angrier.

“Potter would be turning in his grave, if he knew that Miss Evans had that Cloak.” Severus muttered bitterly. “It was not yours to give.”

Dumbledore blinked up at him, as though he’d been taken by surprise. “On the contrary, James left Ariel the Cloak specifically in his will.”

Of fucking course he had, Saint Potter providing Severus’ child with protection and galleons and love that Severus had never been afforded to give the girl herself.

Not until now, whispered Conscience. Why do you care so much?

“I don’t want her having it,” Severus bit out. “she’ll be up to no good in no time. How do you expect me to protect her if we can’t see her?”

“Surely a bit of childish curiosity never hurt anyone.” Dumbledore gave him a pointed look. “You mean to tell me you never left the Slytherin dormitories after dark?”

“That is not the point!” Severus snapped. “Miss Evans is being hunted by something we cannot see, and if something were to happen and we can’t find her —”

He broke off, his breathing labored. Every time he thought of it, his heart burned inside his chest, like he was standing at the edge of a steep cliff, wondering when the next bout of wind would knock him clean off. Terrifying, most of all, was that Severus knew what this was. It had hounded him day and night when Lily had been in hiding, the heart-stopping fear that he would awaken one day only to find that she was —

“I would not have given her the Cloak if I did not think Ariel would use it responsibly.” Dumbledore said gently.

Severus gave a humorless snort. “Is that where your little speech stemmed from last night? Your irrevocable trust in the girl?”

He gave him a long, searching look. “I was quite moved by her words, were you not?”

mummy

professor snape hates me

he loved her something fierce

The pit in his stomach grew, threatening to swallow Severus whole. He forced it down — down down down — until there was nothing left but emptiness, nothing but his Shields holding him up.

“She is young,” Severus grimaced, the words hurting on the way out. “she doesn’t know what she wants. She doesn’t understand the situation she’s in, that I am required to be in. Or have my spying duties escaped your brilliant mind?”

Dumbledore folded his hands together, like he was about to listen to a long story he’d heard countless times before. “Have you decided how to move forward, then? Do your objections to the situation stem from a place of parental concern? Or duty? One could argue they are one and the same.”

Severus had — and hadn’t. It had been all he’d been thinking that night. Miss Evans had successfully wormed her way into his thoughts, waking and unconscious. The girl hadn’t given him so much as a passing glance since he’d canceled their detentions, spending all of her time with Weasley-twerp until Know-it-All returned from holiday. It stung him more than he cared to admit, but it would pass. Time healed all wounds.

(most wounds)

He had to be rid of her, if Miss Evans was going to survive whatever was coming. Severus had been keeping an eye on her, shrouded in shadows and Disillusionment spells. She’d taken to sulking, Weasley-twerp’s annoying suggestions of entertainment only yielding the smallest smiles and head nods. It enraged him, to know that a few days lacking his presence had this effect. There was obviously something seriously wrong with the girl.

“I can’t look after her in the way she thinks I should.” Severus said, his voice void of any emotion. “It’s not realistic, Albus, surely you must know that. Even if I were to wash my hands of my place in the Dark Lord’s ranks, I am not fit to be any sort of guardian to a child.”

He thought of his own father, for the first time in many years. Rarely seen, but often heard had been all that Severus could gather from Tobias’ example. He’d barely given Severus a passing glance most days, his early mornings and nights spent down at the pub. Severus knew he was home when he heard him shouting. His mother had revelled in setting him off. The man hadn’t had a nurturing bone in his body, and children needed such things.

Not to mention that Severus hated the little dunderheads — but Miss Evans was not like the rest of the students. She was stubborn and passionate and annoyingly persistent in her endeavors, but there was unmistakable care in everything she did. Severus saw it when she’d brewed with him. Miss Evans looked at Potions with a reverence, an understanding that armed with the proper ingredients, the possibilities were endless. That had been what lured Severus in, until darker magic had tickled his fancy, opening up an even broader world of understanding, of opportunities, of power.

“Have I ever told you what I believe to be the moment Tom truly became Lord Voldemort?”

Severus screeched to a halt, his boots almost leaving skid marks. His eyes narrowed warily. Dumbledore offered up information about the Founders, old acquaintances, and past Headmasters like it was candy. Anything personal, or about the Dark Lord, however, was about as easy to wrangle out of him as getting Minerva to concede a Quidditch match.

“You haven’t,” Severus said slowly.

“Ah, well,” Dumbledore’s eyes dimmed, like they had taken a dive below the surface of a wave. “You see, Tom is not a Pureblood, as you’re well aware. His father, and his father’s family, were Muggles.”

“What does this —”

“As an orphan, I would imagine that every child’s personality is piqued about who their parents are,” Dumbledore held up a patient hand, continuing on. “As Tom was. He found his father while he was still at Hogwarts, you see. Even then, I had sensed that there was something… wrong with the boy, but I never suspected he could… well, given the circumstances, I suppose it was the perfect storm. When Tom revealed himself to his father and grandparents, they rejected him outright, and Tom responded by massacring the entire family, right then and there.”

Severus stared, and stared, and stared.

“You think the girl is… capable of that?” he said slowly, the words sounding ridiculous out loud.

Dumbledore looked startled. “Goodness, no! I only meant that rejection leads to resentment, my dear boy. You have the opportunity to raise Ariel, and she will only be stronger for it, I would imagine.”

His heart began to thrum away to an entirely new level of panic. “She wouldn’t, I cannot possibly —”

“Clearly Ariel has seen something in you worthy of her affections.” Dumbledore said gently, soothingly. “You have let her see parts of you no one else has.”

“That was not my choice!” Severus spat, but there was a great desperation growing. Get it away shut it up hide them hide them all —

“In every single action you take, you are making a choice.” said Dumbledore. “You made a choice to see Lily a little over a decade ago, and you made a choice to rid yourself of that rendezvous. You made a choice to watch the girl every evening, to ensure that she is safe. Surely there were other avenues you could have taken, but you chose to watch her yourself.”

“Because there is something after her —” Why did no one see this besides him? Why did no one else care about what happened to that foolhardy child?

“There is no shame in admitting that you have formed an attachment to the girl,” Dumbledore said, not unkindly. “but you must pave your way so that she may do the same. Otherwise, there will be nothing but turmoil for Ariel to work through, and she will have enough trials and tribulations in the years ahead. Your choices now are intertwined with her upbringing, whether you like it or not.”

Severus wanted to smash something, but he was too tired. He had been for a long time. Perhaps he had gone soft, but he couldn’t afford to think about that right now, because even though it was complete and utter insanity, Dumbledore was… right.

Lily had made a choice in telling Severus through her letter. Lily had chosen to entrust the girl with him, despite his past atrocities. Was she going to age with grace? Was Miss Evans going to age without mistakes? Lily would never know, she had not been afforded the privilege of watching their daughter grow up, but she would have wanted Severus to. She would have made him promise, on pain of death. After all, wasn’t this all for what Lily would have wanted?

When Severus looked back to Dumbledore, he had his answer.

————

Ariel had never been so happy to see someone in her entire life, the day that Hermione arrived back from Christmas holiday.

She was flush and breathless as she caught sight of Ariel and Ron, waiting for her excitedly by the Great Hall. She practically ran them over as she hurried towards them, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright. Before Ariel couldn’t even get a greeting out, Hermione was talking at them a mile a minute, waving excitedly with her hands.

Something that sounded like one long sentence strung together came tumbling out of her mouth. Ariel looked at Ron, who looked back at her, before staring at Hermione.

“English, please,” said Ron.

“I — know — who — Flamel — is.” Hermione wheezed. “I figured — it out — this morning.”

Ariel thought her face might split open from how hard she was smiling. “You’re absolutely brilliant, Hermione Granger, do you know that?”

“It was — phew — because of your gift!” Hermione rested her hands on her knees, still trying to catch her breath. “He was on the back of one of the chocolate frog cards!”

Ariel was hit with a strange sense of déjà vu, like she’d had this conversation before. She racked her brain, trying to remember what was so familiar about all this, when it clicked.

Ariel’s eyebrows hit her forehead. “Wait — I knew that! That’s where I knew the name from, from the Hogwarts Express, when we bought candy off the trolly!”

“Well, bloody hell, what’re we standing around here for?” Ron demanded. “Tell us what you found!”

“Not here,” Hermione scanned the entrance quickly — the Slytherins were making their way inside, to Ariel’s great disappointment. She would’ve hoped that Malfoy and Pansy would’ve gotten trapped inside their fireplaces, or exploded from eating too much Christmas dinner, or some other horrible fate.

“Library?” Ariel guessed, and Hermione nodded eagerly, linking her hand in Ariel’s as she pulled her along, Ron on their heels.

Madam Pince gave the three of them a particularly nasty glare as they entered, but didn’t object as they hurried inside. There was no one there, since almost all of the students were returning from holiday now, but Ron made them choose a table at the very back of the library, where nobody could hear them, just in case.

“I couldn’t believe it, when I saw his name.” Hermione said, as they scrambled into chairs. “It was sitting in front of us the whole time, and we never put two and two together.”

Ariel leaned forward eagerly in her chair. “Well, don’t keep us waiting.”

Hermione reached into her cloak and pulled out a piece of parchment. The edges were torn, but the words were typed, which meant that she’d found in a book (surprise, surprise). Ariel quickly tried to remember just how many books Hermione had taken home over break — it was somewhere around a dozen, she recalled.

“You ripped that out of a book?” Ron’s eyes tripled in size. “Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?”

“Oh, hush.” Hermione shot back. “That book was as heavy as me, and I wasn’t going to lug it all the way down here before I unpacked.”

“You could’ve used a Shrinking Spell, you numpty.”

“We haven’t learned Shrinking Spells yet, you prat!” Hermione said, an angry blush rising to her cheeks.

Ariel didn’t think she could take much of their arguing with the answer hanging over them. She grabbed the page from Hermione’s hands, scanning it with laser-beam precision.

“‘The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher’s Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers.’” she read aloud. “‘The Stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drink immortal. There have been many reports of the Philosopher’s Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr Nicolas Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year.’ So… whoever wants that Stone is trying to become immortal?” Ariel’s eyebrows knitted together.

“It has other properties too,” Hermione admitted. “great healing powers, transformative abilities.”

“Yeah, but who needs all that if you can live forever?” Ron interjected. “I’m with Ariel, I’d say immortality is much more likely.”

“Who here wants to live forever, though?” Ariel asked, more confused than ever. “I mean, I guess the answer is anyone, but if it’s being kept here, it’s to keep it safe. Who wants it so badly that Professor Dumbledore would try this much to make sure it stays out of their hands?”

“I don’t know,” Hermione took the parchment from Ariel’s hands. “I tried the entire train ride back to come up with a list, but I couldn’t think of anyone. It couldn’t be a student, but none of the staff would be here if Professor Dumbledore didn’t trust them.”

“Well,” Ron said darkly. “there is one greasy git who might want to get his claws on it.”

Hermione shot Ron a horrible glare, smacking his arm.

“I already told you, it’s not Snape.” Ariel sighed, sick and tired of this argument. If Ariel didn’t know what she did about Snape, she supposed she would’ve suspected him, too.

“Yeah?” Ron scowled, falling back in his seat. “Then why’s he had you in detention all these months, huh? We could’ve been looking for more information about the Stone and Flamel, but he had you scrubbing cauldrons. Don’t you think it’s a little suspicious? Maybe he caught on that we know something, and he’s trying to stop us from finding out more!”

“Ronald, if that were true, Professor Snape has had loads of time to steal the Stone.” Hermione bit her lip, her face set in determination, but her eyes told Ariel a different story. “He saved Ariel at the Quidditch match, and he’s her —”

“It’s not Snape,” Ariel said in a steely voice. “Besides, I haven’t had a detention with him in days. If he was up to something, it would’ve happened already. It’s not him.”

“Fine,” Ron grumbled. “I’m not saying we should write him off, but he’s the only bloke who fits the bill. So who else could it be?”

Little flecks of rage dug into Ariel’s mind, but she quickly shoved it far away from her. “I don’t know.” she said, feeling frustrated. “Even knowing who Flamel is and what the Stone does, it doesn’t make sense of all the weird stuff that’s been happening. I mean, the troll and the Bludger were one thing, but the Smoke Monster…”

“Have you seen it at all?” Ron looked extremely worried all of a sudden.

Ariel hesitated. “Not for a while, no, but I’ve been having dreams about it.”

Hermione and Ron exchanged a concerned look.

“What?” Ariel frowned. “What is it?”

“You're dreaming about it?” Ron scratched away at the table, not meeting her eyes. “You haven’t mentioned that, mate.”

“It hasn’t come up!” Ariel shot back defensively. “And I can’t very much help it!”

“I know that!” he held up his hands. “All I mean is… is it getting worse?”

She thought about it, scrunching her nose as she searched through the Giant Smoke Monster category inside her brain. It hadn’t spoken to her, except in dreams, and it hadn’t hounded her like it had the day that Bludger had gone completely mental. That was around the same time Ariel had started dreaming about the woman in the mirror. She realized, with a jolt, that maybe it was her mum in the Mirror of Erised she’d been thinking of this whole time, but she couldn’t see the dream lady’s face, so Ariel couldn’t be sure. The Giant Smoke Monster dreams, however, had gotten… more frequent. She hadn’t thought about how bad they were until Ron had asked.

“I can’t tell,” Ariel shook her head. “It’s maddening, too, because I think I know whose voice it is, I just can’t remember. The green light always comes and ends it.”

Hermione’s face did something strange, then. It seemed to shudder, like she’d be restarted, like Dudley’s Muggle computer, after he’d tried to force quit one of his games and broken the stupid thing for the hundreth time. Her eyes narrowed in concentration down at the tabletop, where Ron was still scratching away.

Ariel almost didn’t want to ask what she was thinking. “What? What is it?”

“Well,” Hermione swallowed, her eyes flitting to Ron. “if you think about it, there is someone who would want the Stone… more than anyone, I would imagine. And they’d have even more of a reason to be following you.”

Ariel shot Ron a puzzled look, who looked equally as confused.

“Does your scar hurt?” Hermione asked, her brown eyes serious. “When you wake up? You said it’s hurt in the past, when you’ve seen that — thing during the day.”

“Yes, but —” Ariel broke off when she saw Ron’s face go blank, like he’d had a similar realization. Neither of them said anything, sharing stolen glances between each other, and Ariel’s felt her patience beginning to wane. “What?” she asked, trying to filter out the desperation in her voice. “Snape already keeps enough from me — not you, too!”

Both their heads shot up in shock, Hermione’s eyes widening in hurt. “I’m not trying to! Do you really not see it?”

Before Ariel could even stop to think about it, Ron leaned across the table and said: “Mate, what if it’s You-Know-Who?”

Ariel felt like she’d be launched over the side of a waterfall. “What?”

“Think about it,” Hermione said slowly. “You-Know-Who can’t get into the school, right? So maybe… maybe someone is trying to steal the Stone for him, and You-Know-Who is… somehow trying to find you, too.”

“Everyone says he’s not really dead,” Ron shivered. “Maybe it’s true, after all. They never found a body, from what Bill’s told me. He could kill two birds with one stone… no pun intended.”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

tell me

a feeling in her teeth like scissors

cold, high voice melting into laugher that went on and on and on

your mother and father gave their lives for you

every day I am reminded that she is gone

Ariel leapt up from the table, knocking over her char. “This is ridiculous. Voldemort isn’t in the school, and he’s not in my dreams! It’s got to be someone else!”

Her feet carried her away from Hermione and Ron without Ariel having to think much about it. Something had clicked off in her brain — something that shone like the green light in her dreams, tapped away like nails on a windowpane. Her hands shook at her sides.

“Ariel, wait, I didn’t mean to upset you!” Hermione caught up with her quickly, her face apologetic. “I only meant —”

She wasn’t listening. Something was coming, something she couldn’t see yet, but she could sense it, like the tingling in her belly before casting a spell, the cadence between cracks of thunder. Ron and Hermione’s voices echoed in her ears, but Ariel didn’t hear them. She needed to get away from them, keep them safe, because if the Giant Smoke Monster was working for Voldemort, or even worse…

The din of the Great Hall brought Ariel back to her senses. The bright lights and warmth, the feeling of being surrounded by other people. She let out the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding in, feeling more like herself.

Hermione’s hands clutched at hers. When Ariel turned, she looked like she was on the brink of tears. She immediately felt horrible, not understanding why she’d yelled at them and run away. It was all incredibly disorienting, until —

“Look, boys,” said The Last Person Ariel Wanted to See. “looks like Red Cap over here finally decided to do something about her hair.”

He was talking about the headband — Ariel had nearly forgotten that she’d had it on.

“Shove it, Malfoy.” Ariel threw over her shoulder, tugging Hermione along. She rarely gave him the time of day when she wasn’t messing with him, and this only seemed to make him angrier.

“What’s wrong?” Malfoy’s smirk stretched into a mocking grin. “Didn’t you enjoy being here, all alone with the Weasel? Or did you miss those stupid Muggles that clearly don’t want you back?”

“I’d take eternal solitude over having to listen to you for another second.” she snapped back.

“You know what I think?” Malfoy leered. “I think the Sorting Hat chooses a whole lot of nobodies for Gryffindor. Look at you lot — Evans has no parents, Weasley has no money, and Granger has no reason being here at all!”

“Ignore him!” Hermione hissed in her ear, but something else was whispering too, and it was getting louder.

“Funny,” Ariel rounded on her heel. “I didn’t know you could think at all. I can hear the echo bouncing around from inside your skull, most days.”

“Look at that, I think I’ve finally hit a nerve!” Malfoy closed the gap between them. “Princess Evans has finally graced us with a conversation! I guess supposedly defeating You-Know-Who doesn’t carry as much weight as you thought it did, does it, Evans? You’ve still got nobody.”

“She’s got us,” Hermione said shrilly. “don’t you have somewhere better to be, Malfoy?”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Granger.” Malfoy said cooly. “You know what, Evans? I think all this You-Know-Who business is hogwash. Your parents probably went and blew themselves up to get away from you, if your Muggle family is any indication.”

Ron began shouting something angrily at Malfoy, a group of older Gryffindors quickly coming over to see what all the commotion was.

Something moved before Malfoy, rising from the floor, like it had always been there.

There it was, bigger than Ariel remembered. Part of her, a distant, forgotten piece of her was alarmed by this, but it didn’t matter. The sounds of chatter faded, like they’d be sucked into a void, the colors falling off the walls and beneath the floor like watercolors. There was a silent breeze tussling her hair across Ariel’s face as she stared up at it.

Do it, It said.

And then Ariel lunged, and decked Malfoy right between the eyes.

She didn’t know how she ended up on top of him, only that she must’ve hit him hard enough that he’d fallen like a ton of bricks, and that she couldn’t stop. The world got darker and darker, until Ariel couldn’t see anything at all, only feeling her hands colliding with Malfoy’s face over and over. She was distantly aware of hands on her shoulders, her legs, her back, her arms, trying to pry her off, but it was like she couldn’t let go, even if she wanted to.

For the briefest of moments, Ariel looked up at the darkness, looked right at it, and it spoke once more.

Tell me what it said.

And just like that, she was back, the colors and sounds slamming into her like a freight train, the darkness lingered. She could hear a hum in the air around her — not the hum of magic, the song in her bones and blood — but the steady drone of a voice, of a moan, of a yearning so deep it shook the floor.

Ariel stared down at her hands, blood smeared across the knuckles. Ron pulled her away, hiding Malfoy from view, while Crabbe and Goyle helped him up.

“She’s mental!” Malfoy wailed. “I didn’t even draw my wand!”

Ariel ran.

The next thing she knew, she was in an alcove. After a moment of trying to catch her breath, she realized that it was the same alcove that she and Hermione had read Mum’s letter in. There was leftover wax from the candles in the corner, and what looked like a burnt photograph in front of her feet. Ariel couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here, or if anyone had followed her, or what had happened to Malfoy, but before Ariel could turn, she heard someone.

There was a hand on her shoulder She jolted, like someone had turned her spine into a broomstick, but she quickly relaxed when she heard a silky voice say. “Be still — it’s me.”

Ariel hadn’t so much as looked at Snape since the Mirror, since he’d sent that stupid note. She’d known she deserved it for breaking his trust, but it had hurt nonetheless, even if it wasn’t permanent.

“What’re you doing here?” Ariel croaked.

“Miss Granger came and found me,” Snape's voice rumbled from behind her. Ariel could feel it all the way down to her toes. “what happened?”

She really and truly did not know. It hadn’t felt like her back there, punching Malfoy over and over again. It had felt good, but not in the way she would’ve expected. Now that it was over, all Ariel felt was empty — empty and scared and alone.

Ariel examined her bloody knuckles. They would likely bruise. “I don’t know, once I started, I couldn’t stop.”

“You saw something,” Snape’s eyes burned into hers. “It’s returned, hasn’t it?”

His hand lingered, a comforting weight against her. It tightened as Ariel’s breathing quickened, desperately trying to slow down her heartbeat. She wondered if Snape could hear it.

“It’s been in my dreams,” Ariel whispered. “it won’t leave me alone.”

Snape was silent for a long moment, but Ariel could feel the air curdling behind her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You told me to stay away —”

“I did no such thing!”

“You said enough!” Ariel shouted at him, ripping free of his grasp. She turned on her heel, all of her anger, her hurt, her guilt funneling themselves into this great and terrible thing inside of her, needing out out OUT.

Snape’s nostrils flared. “Watch yourself, girl.”

“Watch what?” she threw up at him, watching it smack him in the face. “All I do is watch! I probably get it from you, since that’s your specialty.”

He glowered down at her, his eyes flashing in warning, like a coin at the bottom of a pond. “I am only trying to understand what happened. I am not your enemy, Miss Evans.”

“Why?” her voice faltered. “Why do you bother if you want nothing to do with me?”

Snape said nothing. His face was inscrutable, the torchlight the only part of his features that moved.

“You were there that night, weren’t you?” Ariel demanded, looking him right in the eye, black against black. “You knew I was out of bed, and you saw me in front of the Mirror, heard what I said about it, and you haven’t said anything to me. Why?”

For a moment, Snape seemed completely baffled. He did not wear the look well at all. “What in Merlin’s name does this have to do with —”

“You only care about me,” she swallowed roughly, her throat throbbing in time with her manic heartbeat. “when I’m in danger. That’s it. Anything else… you don’t care what I do or what happens.”

Snape said nothing. A breeze whipped through the two of them from the alcove window, his robes the only part of him that moved.

“Well?” his silence made her angrier, and she shot forward, shoving him away with all her might. “Go! Go give points to Malfoy for getting a rise out of me! I don’t care!”

Trying to move Snape was about as easy as trying to move one of the stone pillars, and being the tiniest student in school certainly didn’t help. Still, Ariel threw her hands out in front of her over and over again, wanting to run and never stop, to feel the stone slap beneath her feet until she was far away.

After a minute or so of throwing herself at Snape, his arm shot out and caught hers. It didn’t hurt, but he held enough of a grip that it made her chest stutter, the timpani of her heart skipping time. His face rippled, like a body moving behind a curtain. Ariel looked up into his face, and suddenly Dumbledore’s words echoed in her ears, from a distant and secret place.

he is without a doubt the fiercest man I have ever known, in everything he sets his mind to

And then Snape pulled Ariel to him, her nose smashing against his hip. His arm was like a vise around her shoulders. It took a second or two for the shock to wear off, but as it did, a warmth enveloped her, a feeling like starlight bubbling up inside her.

Ariel turned, and buried his face against his side as tears sprang into her eyes. She felt Snape stiffen, but he did not push her away. It wasn’t comfortable, but she would’ve stayed there forever, and it would’ve been enough.

And for right then and there, it was.

It was enough.

———