Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Chapter 17: shadow of the threat

Ariel couldn’t remember dreading anything as much as she was dreading going down to the Great Hall that morning.

Her stomach had twisted itself into at least twelve different knots before Ron and her had gone to see Professor McGonagall, but heading into the Great Hall and seeing students whispering about the House points only made Ariel want to crawl back up to her bed and never come out. By the time they had found an empty spot at the Gryffindor table, Seamus had already made his way over Ron, demanding to know what had happened.

“Did you even try to explain?” Seamus asked desperately as they sat down — the Gryffindor Prefects were shooting them nasty looks from the far end of the table, while the Slytherins cheered and hooted behind their backs. Ariel didn’t dare look at them — something inside her, something small she’d forgotten was there, felt like it was going to shatter.

“Of course we did!” Ron had taken nearly half the bacon from the serving platter, but was breaking it into pieces instead of eating. “McGonagall didn’t want to hear it.”

“We were so close,” Seamus moaned.

“We know, thanks very much.” Ron snapped back.

Ariel stayed silent, keeping her eyes on her empty plate. Her eyes briefly flickered to the other end of the table again, only to see Hermione sitting by herself, hunched over a book, like she was trying to cram herself inside of it. Ariel’s heart burned with guilt, but the tiny flecks of anger she’d felt last night stirred as well.

She glanced down at her bracelet — she’d forgotten to take it off, but was afraid that Hermione would too, so she’d kept it on to check. Something about the thought scared her, like it was the final question of a hard test, or waiting to hear if certain news was good or bad. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw it was still bright blue — sad — but Hermione was still wearing it.

Her eyes then studied the staff table — Professor McGonagall hadn’t arrived yet, and Professor Dumbledore wasn’t there either, which was unusual. Normally he was the first one there every morning. Professor Quirrell was the only other adult absent, but he’d been missing from meals more and more lately — Ariel had heard Lavender and Pavarti fretting about it a couple of times, and had picked up that he’d been rather sick as of late, or something like that.

That was when Ariel noticed that Snape was staring right at her. The hairs on her arms stood up straight, because the way he was staring at her would’ve caused Neville to pass out right there, but Ariel couldn’t help but hold his gaze. It was dense, the sort of feeling you got when you stared at the bottom of a dark well.

She felt around for the coin in her pocket, and gripped it in her hand. Nothing, she thought, and slipped it into her rucksack.

“Well, I reckon everyone’s pretty mad.” Seamus said, rather unhelpfully. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, pummeling Malfoy’s smug face in was a great show and all, but the Cup…”

“Yeah?” Ron shot back, louder than he probably meant to. “You try listening to him insult your families six ways from Sunday, and see how you’d like it.”

The Hufflepuffs turned, looking surprised, and even a little empathetic. That was quickly replaced by the Slytherins’ jeering growing louder since Ron had turned around. Ariel glanced back to Snape, who pretended to be checking the time, but she could tell he was reading her message. He didn’t look at her again, though. Instead he started watching the entrance like a hawk. Ariel wondered if he was waiting for the Headmaster, or Professor McGonagall to discuss their punishment. The thought of Professor Dumbledore being disappointed in her almost made her stomach break into cartwheels. If she’d eaten, she might’ve even felt nauseous.

Seamus, in the meantime, left, shooting almost regretful looks as he went back to his spot with the other first years, leaving Ariel and Ron sitting alone together. She took a piece of honeydew from the middle of the table, and smashed it with her spoon.

“I always thought teaching Malfoy a lesson would feel a whole lot better.” Ron muttered.

“The entire school wasn’t supposed to turn on us, I think.” Ariel stuck the spoon in her mouth, barely tasting it — it didn’t even register as sweet. “Just the Slytherins.”

“As if Malfoy and his cronies could hate us even more,” he took an aggressive bite of bacon. “At least he’s stuck in detention with us. Do you think it’ll be with Snape?”

I overheard Professor McGonagall giving Professor Snape grief about having you down there every night —

“I dunno,” Ariel hoped he would, but also didn’t. She hated how much he favored the Slytherins. It almost made her regret asking the Sorting Hat to put her in Gryffindor. She didn’t want to regret anything else, there were too many of those piling up in her mind. If the detention was with Snape, she couldn’t imagine him just letting her brew with him, either. He’d definitely have her and Ron gutting toads, while Malfoy and Goyle probably ate the fancy stuff Uncle Vernon ordered at restaurants sometimes — caviar, she thought it was called. When it came to the Slytherins, Snape always took their side.

Ron wasn’t listening to her anymore, though. His eyes had locked onto the entrance of the Great Hall, and so had everyone else's. Ariel craned her neck to see, since she was almost two heads shorter than Ron, when she noticed the pale blonde head of hair neatly gelled back. Malfoy had finally walked in, it seemed, but it looked like he was trying to become a part of the wall, skulking close to the stones with his head down. Pansy immediately jumped up and went over to him, while Crabbe and Goyle moved apart to give him a seat between them. Some of the older Gryffindor students pointed and laughed, but Malfoy just kept his head low, hands shoved into his robe pockets.

“Well,” Ron cracked a smirk. “I’d say you’ve properly humiliated him.”

Ariel tried to fight it, but she couldn’t deny the twinge of pity she felt, watching Malfoy slip himself between Crabbe and Goyle, shoveling food onto his plate, almost desperately. “Madam Pomfrey sure fixed him up well enough.”

“She should’ve left him with at least the shiner.”

Ariel playfully punched his arm. “I thought I only broke his nose.”

“I savored every one of those punches, Ariel, and trust me, if Malfoy didn’t walk away with a black eye, then I’m the Minister of Magic.”

She snorted, peering back at Malfoy. “He does look awful. Do you think he’s alright?”

“Trust me, his bloody ego is bruised more than anything else.” Ron stared glumly as the Great Hall began to hustle around, getting up from their seats and preparing to head to class. “Thank Merlin we have Herbology with the Ravenclaws this morning.”

She very nearly groaned. Ariel wasn’t going to learn a darned thing — she didn’t know how she was going to make it through classes today, with everything on her mind, and Hermione and her in the middle of their first real fight. Ariel looked back towards the end of the table where Hermione had been before, but she was already gone. Her heart twisted painfully around itself.

The professors had begun to disperse too — Snape had billowed away from the staff table, and was making his way past the Slytherins, barking something at the Prefects.

“He’s going to be a treat this week.” Ron’s complaining was starting to grate on Ariel, but she couldn’t blame him. She was the one responsible for this stupid mess, after all. Well, sort of…. but the Giant Smoke Monster didn’t seem like it would adhere to a detention, even if Professor McGonagall was the one assigning it.

Ariel suppressed a shudder.

That was the exact moment something dropped in front of her. She whirled around, expecting to see Snape looming over her, or maybe an older student who was furious with her for the Cup, or even Hermione, but there was no one. Ariel looked back to the entrance and saw Snape standing there, staring at her again, but when she met his gaze, he pivoted sharply and left.

Detention, — same time. Do not be late.

The not was underlined twice. Ariel sighed heavily, shoving the note into her rucksack, and tried to ignore the pleasant squirm she felt in her stomach.

“Ready?” Ron asked, like he was asking her to jump off a cliff with him.

Ariel swallowed the rest of her smushed-up honeydew, and grimaced. “As I’ll ever be.”

“I’ll tell you something, Evans,” Ron said, handing Ariel her rucksack. “if you see that smoke-thing, you tell it to bugger down the Slytherin’s toilets for the rest of the school year.”

———

Ariel had been right about not learning anything today — Herbology had gone by in a blur, but somehow, Ariel had managed to prick three fingers without knowing exactly how. She and Ron had been attempting to prune an alihosty towards the end, but everything Professor Sprout had said might as well have been buried in the mulch they tried to scoop their plants out of at the end to replant in the garden, besides everyone else's. There’s ended up looking sad and pathetic — Neville’s, however, looked even better than Hermione’s (who Ariel had caught looking at her twice).

They let themselves fall behind the other first years — Parvati and Lavender kept giving Ariel supportive glances, while Dean and Seamus kept trying to sweep Ron away. He stayed beside Ariel, though, especially as they walked up to Transfiguration, which was with the Slytherins. They wouldn’t do anything in front of Professor McGonagall, but Ariel had a feeling they were waiting until after class to make her life miserable.

She clenched her jaw, wringing her palm in the handle of her rucksack, twisting it against her skin. If she tried to skip class, Professor McGonagall would have her head on a stick before lunch, and then probably take more points to boot.

“Can we wait before going in?” Ariel asked, dragging her feet. “I’d like to spend as little time as possible around those creeps.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Ron grimaced. “Did you — did you see it all, during class?”

Ariel blinked in confusion before realizing what he meant. “Oh, no, it uh… it usually takes a break for a while after I see it.”

Ron made a strange sound under his breath. Ariel wanted to ask him what was wrong — besides the obvious fact that he didn’t like being turned into an outsider overnight — but Neville came whipping around the corner suddenly, nearly mowing the two of them down. Ariel let out a yelp, grabbing Ron’s arm as he drew out his wand. If she hadn’t been so startled, Ariel might’ve laughed, because she knew for a fact that Ron didn’t know any defensive spells, which Hermione loved to egg him with. “Did you plan on blinding him with a Lumos?” she would’ve teased, and Ron would’ve turned beet-red.

“S-sorry, sorry!” Neville put his hands up — in apology, or to cover his face, Ariel couldn’t figure out. “I was looking f-for you guys!”

“Well, bloody hell, you’ve found us.” Ron put his wand away as Ariel detangled himself from around his elbow. “I reckon you’re the only one.”

“Y-yeah, everyone’s pretty upset —”

“Thanks, Neville.”

“What do you need, Neville?” Ariel interjected, before Ron’s sour mood turned what could be their only ally against them.

Neville blushed a deep purple. “I j-just wanted to s-say that I thought what you did was brave. Malfoy n-needed to be taught a l-lesson.”

Ariel blinked at him. It was the most she’d ever heard Neville say. Even though she was his potion’s partner, he rarely spoke to her directly. “Uh, thanks, Neville, really, but you don’t have to say that.”

“It’ll make you real unpopular real quick.” Ron said under his breath. Ariel pretended to accidentally step on his foot.

Neville shrugged. “It’s s-still pretty early. W-we could make a c-comeback.”

“Maybe. Fred and George have lost loads of House points in the past…”

“Everyone w-was impressed until t-they saw the hourglasses this morning.” Neville shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “I know you're both in loads of trouble, but Malfoy gets away with everything. If the professors weren’t going to do anything, one of us was going to have to.”

Ariel was going to tell him she’d take it all back if she could — and she would’ve, because something had felt different inside her since she’d listened to that thing — when they heard something loud from inside an empty classroom. She felt her entire body tense up, but immediately felt a rush of relief when Ron jumped about a foot in the air, and Neville let out a squeak of surprise. If they could hear it, it wasn’t the Giant Smoke Monster.

Before any of them could say anything, there was a voice from the other side of the door, along with another series of loud crashes.

“No — NO — not again, please —”

Ariel and Ron looked at each other. Neville had gone as white as a sheet. It sounded like someone was being threatened.

“All right — all right —”

She jerked forward, and for a moment, she could hear Snape’s voice screaming for her to stop —

The door opened just as her hand was on the knob, and out fell Quirrell, who was shaking like a building about to collapse. Luckily Ron pulled her out of the way before Ariel’s nose slammed into his kneecaps, but Quirrell didn’t even seem to notice them. He murmured a string of apologies, fixing his turban as he hurried down the hallway. He didn’t even ask them why they were loitering or if they’d heard anything.

“What was that about?” Ron whispered. “You reckon he’s all there? Seamus told me the other day some of the older students said he’s been acting strange.”

Ariel shrugged — her brain hurt if she thought too much. “I dunno, maybe he’s just gotten a bad Owl?”

Ron didn’t look convinced. “He was in a right state —”

“Let’s just go — we’re going to be late.”

He gave another wary glance at the classroom. “There’s gotta be someone else in there.”

Neville made a sound like a tree bending in the wind.

“Yeah, and we’re not going to find out.” Ariel grabbed his arm, stringing him along.

She watched Ron look over his shoulder as they walked away. She would’ve been lying if she said she was curious too, but too much was happening — too many things they didn’t know, and she didn’t know what would happen if they added one more thing to the list.

Something itched, though — something that felt like she’d been given a puzzle piece she didn’t know where to place.

———

Severus told himself he was fully prepared for Miss Evans’ detention that night, but, as he often found himself with Miss Evans, he was woefully taken off guard.

He’d spent all evening mentally guarding himself for her entrance, uncertain of how she would react to him after what had happened the day prior. Miss Evans had appeared sullen in the Great Hall during the day’s meals and oftentimes left early. Weasley-twerp had remained tethered to her side, but Granger had not, which was quite unusual. They’d practically sat themselves on opposite sides of the table, both pushing their food around their plates and missing the odd glances they shot at each other when the other wasn’t looking. Children were moody little things, but Granger and Miss Evans having any sort of disagreement was… highly unusual. If Severus had cared more about who Miss Evans spent her time with, he might have even found it alarming.

Quirrell had continued to be absolutely fucking useless. There was something suspicious about the spineless twig, but all he did was beg for mercy, and Severus had run out of mercy to give a long time ago. He was, however, still the only member of the staff that Severus still wasn’t fully confident in — the rest of them would’ve laid down their lives to protect the little shits, but the difference between them and Severus was that he had vowed to only protect one, and Quirrell was getting him nowhere in that particular endeavor.

In the meantime, Severus had an entire evening to pick the girl’s brain. There had to be more that the girl wasn’t sharing with him, and they were running out of time. Every moment that thing stalked the halls, it continued to gain the upper hand, and Severus didn’t want to know what would happen when it decided to take more… definitive action. He hadn’t been able to sleep a wink the night prior after speaking with Dumbledore, the girls’ trembling frame and panicked-stricken face all he’d been able to see every time he’d closed his eyes. Miss Evans was frightened — she was slipping further and further away, and it was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord decided to give the final blow. Fear was a driving force, fear could eat you from the inside out, leaving nothing left.

Severus was intent on making sure Miss Evans knew of this before she left tonight. Fear could ruin her, but fear could also save her life, and that promise had become binding the second Miss Evans’ foot had stepped through the threshold of the Great Hall for the first time.

He sat at his desk and waited for her to come. She always did, right on time, and this would be the first detention since the Mirror. She’d caught him by surprise last night, but all he could see in her tear-stricken face was hopelessness, that resentment that Dumbledore had warned him of, and it had shaken him. He hadn’t known what to do, or how to fix it, only that confirming the girl’s accusations would’ve sent her to some bottomless pit of despair, and he wasn’t going to be responsible for that.

The thought that Miss Evans could disarm him so easily was… all the more alarming. He hadn’t known what he was thinking, offering her a gesture of comfort he’d never been able to muster together, not even for Lily, as they’d grown older.

it’s been in my dreams it won’t leave me alone you told me to stay away

why bother if you want nothing to do with me

you don’t care what I do or what happens —

He was seriously out of his depth, but then again, so was Miss Evans. She had no idea what she was getting into, what laid ahead for her, for him, for both their futures. Entwined with one another's, but never to be connected — she couldn’t be allowed to harbor any such affection, not if he was going to return to the Dark Lord, but what Dumbledore had said was the truth. Last night had been a serious lapse in judgement, but what the fuck was Severus supposed to do —

There was a timid knock at the door.

He raised his Shields, and settled into that hollow space, between permanent detachment and insight.

“Enter,” Severus called coldly.

The door creaked open slowly, in the way that children did things — annoyingly slow. Severus grit his teeth as Miss Evans let herself in, her eyes meeting him as she crept inside. She gave a half-hearted wave, her rucksack trailing mournfully on the floor behind her.

She settled herself at one of the workbenches, and then let her forehead drop against the tabletop with a thud.

A muffled sound that sounded like words came from beneath the mess of red hair. Severus stared at her for a moment, contemplating how far he could push his wand into his cranium before he did a significant amount of damage.

“I beg your pardon?” Severus said, almost without a sigh.

There was another string of cavemen-esque noises. Severus contemplated kicking her out, but stifled his growing impatience and bit his tongue. “I’ve just cleaned flobberworms off that, you know.”

Her head shot up, like a fire had been lit underneath her, so much so that she fell backwards off the bench. Severus watched, nonplussed, but also slightly worried that she’d managed to somehow hurt herself. That thought was squashed, however, when she scrambled up off the floor, and narrowed her (his) dark eyes at him.

“That was mean.” she huffed, crossing her arms tightly in front of her.

“I didn’t know we were stating the blatantly obvious,” Severus retorted.

Miss Evans scowled, settling herself back on the bench, and lowering her arms warily back down on the tabletop, resting her head atop them. Severus had never seen her in this foul of a mood before — he wondered if it had to do with Granger. He didn’t care enough to ask.

“I guess you’re going to have me gut toads or scrub cauldrons, then?” she muttered, avoiding his gaze.

Severus stared, scrutinizing her. He’d seen her hysterical, sad, even angry before, but nothing like this. It reminded him of Lily and yet… it didn’t. Lily would have come in shouting and raving, letting Severus know exactly how she was feeling, and why she was feeling it. Their daughter, however, seemed completely oblivious to her attitude. He wondered if that was him, somehow. He tried not to see himself in the girl, save the eyes. She was this little amalgam of him and Lily, and yet… not.

“Is that what you want?” Severus asked, keeping his voice even.

She scratched away at the table, averting her gaze. She made another face, quickly wiping her hands together in disgust. “I figured I would be.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Miss Evans bit her lip, and shook her head. When she looked back up at him, Severus noticed the dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes. She was trying to put on a defiant face, but he could see straight through her. She’d always been a terrible liar.

“Professor McGonagall has already assigned you a detention this weekend, has she not?”

Miss Evans rolled her eyes. “Yes, but —”

“Then this conversation is a waste of time,” Severus said, giving her a pointed glare. “I do not like to have my time wasted, Miss Evans.”

She glowered down at the table, like it had spoken out of turn. “I’m not trying to waste your time. I just…” she trailed off, her mouth clamped shut in a tight line.

Severus counted backwards from ten in his head. When his brain didn’t splatter over the dungeon wall, he steadied himself, and studied the girl again. He’d never seen her throw an almost-tantrum — she didn’t seem the type, but children were moody, fiddly things, and Severus knew for a fact that she’d had a… trying few days.

She scrubbed at her face, and for a moment, Severus felt pity for the girl again, the same feeling that had burrowed around his chest when he’d found her in the alcove. Dumbledore’s voice echoed in his ears — she cannot fall into the habit of using force when faced with adversity, she will be tempted more than any of them.

He stood, and Miss Evans’ eyes snapped to him with rapt attention, like she was afraid, but also fascinated. He sat himself down across from her — she didn’t shrink away, like most students did, but Severus had the suspicion that Miss Evans was no longer afraid of him. He supposed he had himself to blame for that.

“Have you seen it since last night?” Severus asked her, searching her (his) eyes. They were wide and unsuspecting, but he could tell there was something hidden behind there, and that was why, he reasoned, he had not made the familial connection sooner. The girl wore her heart on her sleeve. Her face told him everything he needed to know.

Miss Evans squirmed in her seat. “No.”

“Are you certain?”

The girl hesitated. Severus felt the ends of his fingers begin to vibrate.

“I haven’t seen it,” Miss Evans paused, her eyebrows knitting together. “but I can – I don't know how to explain it!”

“Try,” Severus said, and it felt like he was chewing on glass.

She let out a short breath through her nose and grimaced. “I think I can hear it talking to me, but I can’t tell, it’s not like the other times. You know that already, though. Sometimes it’s in my dreams, but there’s a woman –”

“A woman?” Severus interrupted.

“I don’t know who it is, I can’t see her face. When she turns around there’s this green light, and I wake up.”

She hadn’t told him that. “You’ve never told me that.”

“It’s just a dream,” Miss Evans said, and he did not appreciate her tone.

At the risk of beginning to sound like Trelawney, Severus let it go. He didn’t think he could mentally tackle what Miss Evans’ dream could be. “I don’t know how many times I need to reiterate that it is imperative that you tell me these things.”

Her face fell, and she fiddled with her hands. “It’s… hard to know what’s real and what’s not.”

Severus was going to break something if the girl didn’t stop trying to be purposefully obtuse. “Explain.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know how —”

I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know there wasn’t TIME —

“Miss Evans —”

“I said I don’t know, okay?” she shot up at him, and her face pinched together. “I don’t know anymore! All I know is that I was angry, and it was suddenly right there in front of me, and it knew I wanted to hit Malfoy in his stupid face. It’s never done that, it’s just… told me to tell it something. I think maybe it wants the Stone, but I have no idea where you and the other professors are keeping it! Why does it want me?”

Jesus fucking Christ don’t cry again. “I was under the impression that was the point of these nightly meetings.”

“Well I don’t know!” she slammed up from the bench. “Everyone thinks I have the answers and I bloody well don’t!”

Severus stood, towering over her, and even though she only came up to his knees, she did not seem as small, as fragile. Her anger permeated around her person, her hair crackling like a fire. “There would be no reason to suspect you if you had not been deliberately deceitful!”

“You canceled the detentions!” she shouted at him.

“And you clearly have a death wish for wandering out of bed — alone — doing Merlin knows what, or maybe it was just that plucky Gryffindor arrogance you all revel in so much —”

“I had the Cloak with me!” she said hotly. “I’m not stupid!”

Severus chose this moment to disengage before he said something he regretted. Normally, he would’ve let the girl have it, but after last night, he wasn’t sure how close to cracking the girl was. She seemed to be hovering between Somewhat Stable and Complete Meltdown.

“This argument is pretty stupid, too.” she slumped back onto the bench. “Isn’t it?”

Severus eyed her warily. “I concur.”

“I just… just feel so angry all the time.” she scowled. “It’s those ruddy Slytherins, carrying on about the stupid Cup, and Pansy fussing and making a big deal over Draco when he’s fine —”

“My House,” Severus said pointedly, and the girl turned as red as her hair. “are the least of your problems. They’ll find a new spectacle to fixate on eventually.”

She continued to glower, not at anything in particular, but enough for Severus to take a moment to step away and recollect his own thoughts. He turned, pivoting towards his desk, wondering if this were just the ornery mood of an already incredibly unpredictable child, or the lingering effects of a darker magic, the kind that wove it’s way into your bones, into your soul. The Dark Lord had never asked for any of theirs — if he had their body and minds, the soul was no matter.

When he turned back, she was sitting back on the bench, staring into space. Her expression was much softer, much more contemplative. She no longer looked as though she were on the verge of tears — it was like when the tide pulled back, taking the shells and rocks and algae with it, leaving behind nothing but sand.

“Why did you come last night?” she asked quietly. There was something urgent there, something that did not sound like the request of a child, but held all of the innocence, all of the earnesty only children could possess. “Do you know what’s happening to me?”

Severus thought about dismissing her, of letting her go and scouring the school himself. Past experiences with Miss Evans, however, always left him with a sense of dread, and the knowledge that if he didn’t directly supply it, that she would eventually get what she wanted on her own, and throw it back at him, outraged that he hadn’t just told her himself, as if she hadn’t figured out that he’d rather chew off his own limb than willingly give up information to an eleven-year-old.

Fear was a driving force. Fear could keep her alive until Severus put a stop to this.

hide them hide them all

it won’t leave me alone

come and get me

“What do you know,” Severus began slowly. “about your scar?”

Miss Evans stared blankly at him. “Well… Professor Dumbledore told me it must’ve come from when Voldemort —”

Severus felt the ends of his limbs seize, like he’d been electrocuted. “Do not say the name!”

She jumped about a foot in the air, but this time, Severus was able to grab her sleeve before she tumbled backwards again. She caught onto his wrist and pulled herself back up before gaping at him. “Why not?” she sputtered.

“There is power in names,” he snarled. “or did the fact that no witch or wizards dares to say it, even a decade later, escape you?”

“I’m not afraid of him.” Miss Evans said, and it was strong, definitive, filled to the brim with that reprehensible (terrifying, dangerous, arrogant) Gryffindor courage.

“There are many witches and wizards out there who did not live long enough to muster together some semblance of regret.” Severus snapped. “Do not make the same mistake.”

“I’m not calling him You-Know-Who —”

“I don’t give a damn what you call him, but you will not say the name where I can hear it!”

“Fine,” Miss Evans glared mutinously at the floor. “All I know is that stupid git tried to kill me, and somehow I survived and got the scar. It never bothered me until I got to Hogwarts, either. Professor Dumbledore didn’t say much else. What does that have to do with the smoke monster?” 

Severus would have thought of much more creative names, ones that would’ve made Miss Evan’s toes curl. “Your scar was given to you in an effort to kill you. Can you think of no reason why it would hurt, given recent events?”

She cocked her head at him in confusion. “I don’t understand, what does that —”

“Think, Miss Evans.” Severus leaned forward. “There are no coincidences, where it concerns the Dark Lord.”

She went very quiet. Severus had not expected her to be quiet, he’d expected her to ogle at him like he’d told her the secrets of the universe, or perhaps even start to cry again, but she didn’t. Something wasn’t… right.

“That’s what Hermione said last night.” Miss Evans whispered, almost to herself. “I didn’t want to believe it…”

Well —

He had certainly not been expecting that.

“And why, pray tell,” Severus asked in a dangerous voice, feeling his insides constricting. “Would Miss Granger have come to that conclusion?”

She looked him right in the eye, then. “Because we know Nicholas Flamel made the Stone, and that the Stone can make the Elixir of Life.”

His Shields snapped back to the shore, like a shipwrecked boat hurtling towards him —

“Before you go losing it on me,” Miss Evans said, crossing her arms tightly in front of her — as a stance of dominance, or a show of protection, Severus could not tell. “I haven’t gone looking for it. We just wanted to know what it did, since, you know, whoevers after it tried to off me with that Bludger.”

Severus could hear the jars around them beginning to rattle. “That would fall under the category of looking for it.”

“Well you weren’t going to tell me what was happening!” she countered. “We wanted to know what was going on!”

“It’s none of your business,” Severus snarled. “the more you involve yourself, the more of a threat you become to him!”

She sunk back onto the workbench, studying the woodgrain, her black eyes darting back and forth. Severus could practically see the wheels turning in her head. He wanted to rip apart that wheel, splinter by splinter, and set it ablaze.

“That’s why you came last night, isn’t it?” Miss Evans peered up at him hesitantly. “Because… it’s Vol— that stupid git — and you know he’s after me. He wants the Stone to get to me, doesn’t he?” 

And just like that, the blatant, naked truth was hanging in the air between them.

He’ll never touch you

“It would appear so,” Severus said, trying to keep his voice devoid of emotion. “I’ve been assured that he cannot harm you, but it is… quite unusual that only you are able to see him in his spirit form.”

She frowned. “But the Bludger —”

“He is using someone in the school to do his bidding.”

“Oh,” her eyebrows knitted together in thought. “So… is Vol— sorry, I mean stupid git here or not?”

“He cannot enter the castle as long as Professor Dumbledore remains Headmaster. There are protection spells in place, ones not even the Dark Lord can break.” Severus’ lip curled. “He is, however, somehow astral projecting inside the school with the aid of someone who is here.”

She scratched away at the table. “How do you know he can’t hurt me?”

Because I won’t let it happen. “There are… protective magics in place.”

She sighed, like this wasn’t a sufficient answer, but was too tired to argue. “I have my detention with Malfoy on Saturday,” Miss Evans told him glumly.

Severus stared down at her, trying not to look taken off guard for the — third? fourth? — time that evening. “So I’ve heard.”

“Do you know why I hit him?”

He could imagine. Potter had said just as much to him when they’d been in school — worse, even. Anything about Lily had been enough to get Severus to give into the bait. He’s own retaliation made Miss Evans’ look tame in comparison. Poppy had been required to reattach Potter’s nose on more than one question, Severus recalled fondly.

“I don’t care to know, Miss Evans.” he said coolly. “I think we both know that settling disputes like common Muggles is inexcusable — don’t we?”

He expected that resistance from earlier to make its return, but she just averted her eyes and nodded. “I didn’t mean —”

“I know,” Severus interjected. “You need not explain further.”

“Thank you for coming last night, anyway.” she said, in a voice so soft Severus almost didn’t hear it. “Why did you come if you were mad?”

“Temporary insanity.”

She smirked up at him. Something inside of Severus’ chest felt lighter. He didn’t want to say the actual reason – that he felt some semblance of responsibility for the child, that her emotional state had jarred him.

“Do you have the Cloak with you?” Severus managed to force out.

Her eyes widened, but she nodded.

“You will carry it with you from now on,” he commanded, pointing at her rucksack. “If you see that thing, you hide, and you call me with the coin. Am I clear?”

“That’s why I put it on Christmas Day,” she grumbled.

“And you will not sneak out of bed again, or so help me —”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Severus glared at her, unconvinced.

“I really promise this time.” Miss Evans said quickly. “Cross my heart.”

and hope to die

He motioned for the door. “Good. Come — you look exhausted. I’m not keeping you here all night only to be berated by the other professors tomorrow.”

Miss Evans rolled her eyes at him. “Gee, thanks.”

Severus gave her a warning glare, but she didn’t see it as she gathered her things, rubbing at her eyes in the process.

“Oh!” she stopped suddenly, her eyes a tad brighter with the unmistakable light of remembering something one had forgotten. “I almost forgot — is Professor Quirrell alright?”

He felt his entire body tense up, the tendons in his hands strained as he froze. “Why do you ask?”

She frowned. “Ron, Neville and I saw him coming out of a classroom before. He’d been talking to someone, we think. It didn’t sound good, and when he came out, he looked really upset.”

Severus flexed his hands, feeling the blood pumping in his ears. “Is that so?”

“Some of the other students said he’d been acting weird —”

I knew it I fucking KNEW it —

“Fascinating,” he said, making it sound as though it were anything but. He could feel his molars smoking.

Miss Evans shrugged. “It was odd — I dunno, I know some students are worried.”

“Has he been strange… towards you?”

She blinked at him. “How?”

Severus took that as a no. “He’s been in poor health as of late. Don’t concern yourself with it.”

“Alright,” her lips pressed together in thought. After a minute, she looked up at him, her face thoughtful. “No one came out after him, though.”

——

Ariel left her detention with Snape feeling… strangely lighter. It wasn’t the good kind, the sort that made you remember what a normal breath of air felt like, or when the pain in your heart dissipated. It was the kind that made you feel like you were in a dream, like your head was properly attached to your shoulders again.

She thought about what he’d said about Voldemort and the Stone, and then, about what Hermione had told her last night — about Snape being evil.

Maybe Hermione didn’t understand because she had two loving parents — or at least, Ariel assumed she did. She knew they were Muggles who were dentists, and that they didn’t really seem to understand much of what Hermione was learning at Hogwarts. She’d had Ariel proofread all her letters to her parents (they’d been long, and Hedwig had not been happy with the weight), and the responses had always been… enthusiastic, but it was clear that they had no idea what Hermione was talking about, all the spells and potions and things they learned.

It was the same sort of feeling, Ariel supposed. That feeling of being disconnected, or not knowing how to bridge a gap you hadn’t realized was there. Only Snape was more like a violent black hole — everyone thought he was a git, Hermione thinking so too shouldn’t have surprised her.

Snape telling her about Voldemort was sorta the same thing… he wouldn’t have told her if he wanted her dead. He wouldn’t have come to the alcove either. Snape wasn’t evil — he was probably one of the scariest people she’d ever met, but he’d been scared of Voldemort’s stupid name. She wondered what Voldemort was really like, if the scariest, strongest person she knew couldn’t handle hearing about him.

Maybe it was because of Mum, because of what Voldemort had done…

But if they didn’t know who was working for him, what were they going to do? And why had Snape been so… weird about what she’d seen Quirrell do this morning?

Ariel didn’t have any answers as she climbed the stairs to her dormitory, but she knew how to fix at least one of her problems. She reckoned it was the most important of them all, right now.

Hermione’s light was off, but Lavender and Pavarti were still awake, giggling behind their curtains. Lavender had some Charmed stars above her bed, and they glowed all different colors, casting long shadows along the center of the room. Ariel’s bed looked more inviting than ever, especially after the day she’d had, but there was something she had to do first.

She climbed over to Hermione’s bed, and laid down beside her. Hermione turned, her amber eyes wide in the dark, quickly filling with tears. Ariel wondered if she’d been crying already.

“I’m sorry —” Hermione began, but Ariel shook her head.

“I was upset because you were… sorta right,” Ariel said quietly, looking over at Lavender’s bed. The giggling had stopped, but she could hear loud, hushed whispers that could only mean they were reading one of those trashy tabloids again. “He’s not evil, but he’s not… nice. And he’s got secrets, and he’s horrible, but he’s all I got. I’ve got to try, you know?”

Hermione was silent for a long time. After what seemed like the world’s longest pause, she sat up and gave Ariel another one of those stares, the one where Hermione was suddenly much older, and knew something only time could ever tell.

“Please just be safe.” was all she said. Ariel wanted to ask what she meant by that, she was once again met with that indescribable feeling of standing over a cliff’s edge, or at the top of a mountain, and looking straight down.

Ariel gave a jerky nod, and stared at the ceiling for a long moment. “Do you know what Lavender and Pavarti said last night?” Ariel asked.

Hermione sniffled. “Nothing good, I’m guessing?”

“They said,” Ariel felt a giggle slip past her lips, feeling it replacing the stiff coldness around her heart. “They said Malfoy eggs on me because he fancies me.”

Hermione looked at her like she’d grown a second head for a minute, which only made Ariel laugh harder. She sat up, giggling like mad for the first time in weeks, while a smile spread across Hermione’s, who was soon clutching at her stomach as they both gasped for air.

Voldemort or not, he could never take away this feeling — she wasn’t going to let him take anything away ever again.

And that was a promise.

———

Chapter End Notes:

A/N: Hi everyone! After the most stressful first year of teaching EVER, I have the summer off, which is definitely something I can identify with in terms of Snape’s thoughts on teaching. I will be attempting to stick to a writing schedule for July & August, where I post a new chapter on Saturday mornings. I’d like to have Philosopher’s Stone done within the next four chapters, and then start Chamber of Secrets before the school year begins again.

If you could leave a review, it would mean a lot. Until the next time! xx


You must login (register) to review.
[Report This]


Disclaimer Charm: Harry Potter and all related works including movie stills belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Bros, and Bloomsbury. Used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. No money is being made off of this site. All fanfiction and fanart are the property of the individual writers and artists represented on this site and do not represent the views and opinions of the Webmistress.

Powered by eFiction 3.5