Dumbledore was not there when Severus arrived in his office, the girl beside him.

This was almost as unusual as the old man himself, but it was strange that he would disappear when he had known Severus had been firmly against the detention in the first place. It was also infuriatingly bewildering — there was no fucking reason he would’ve left Hogwarts when the Stone and the girl were in jeopardy. He knew as well as Severus that his presence was the greatest stronghold against any dark forces that lurked beyond the castle grounds — dark forces that Dumbledore had confirmed himself.

Miss Evans was silent, her eyes sharp as she removed herself from beneath his cloak, blinking as she took in the space. He pulled the girl in front of him, listening for sounds of rustling or scuttling, but only silence greeted them. It was loud, and final.

“Dumbledore?” he called, attempting to sound calm, keeping his hand on Miss Evans’ shoulder. She grabbed his wrist.

“What’re we doing here?” she whispered.

Severus shushed her. He lifted his wand, running a Diagnostic spell on her — he didn’t think he would find anything — he never did after an attack — but it put his mind somewhat at ease. As he did so, he turned, expecting to see Dumbledore emerge from somewhere Severus couldn’t see, but there was nothing.

a shriek like a ghost ripped from its haunting

something was there something won’t stop saying my name something won’t leave me alone

Severus was going to kill someone, something, sometime soon if he didn’t start getting some fucking answers.

Miss Evans didn’t look alarmed anymore, only strangely pensive in the dim light of the office. Her eyes wandered as though they had a mind of their own, drinking in Dumbledore’s space like she’d been dying of thirst. She had sticks in her hair and dirt on her face — she looked like something that lived in Hagrid’s compost pile. Severus was distantly aware of the fact that she’d never been here before, and to a child, this was probably the epitome of what she had imagined when she’d first heard of Hogwarts. Dumbledore’s office looked like a refurbished, more mature version of a toyshop to her, between all the sweets, the oddities that lined his shelves and the nauseating amount of color. It should have been a crime to house so much contrast in a single room.

“Stay here,” Severus commanded, motioning for Miss Evans to sit in one of the chairs beside the fire. Despite the fact that the Headmaster wasn’t there, it crackled heartily in the hearth. “Do not touch anything.”

She ogled at the baubles and knick-knacks, nodded jerkily, and sat without a word. He almost marveled that she’d done what she had been fucking told for once but dismissed it and went looking for Dumbledore instead.

His quarters were empty — Severus had the suspicion that the old man was as much of an insomniac as he was, but he definitely wasn’t here. Dumbledore was almost always sitting readily behind his desk, twinkling and far too happy to greet him, as if he somehow always knew when Severus was coming. The edges of his vision shimmered as he frantically thought of what to do. Dumbledore needed to know what had happened in the Forest, but Severus hadn’t a damn clue where he was. He couldn’t take the girl from the school — or maybe he should, but how would he explain —

He felt a tug on his cloak. “How did you know where I was?”

Severus whirled around to find the girl next to him. She stared up in earnest, frowning, and he glared wildly down at her. “I thought I told you —”

“You did,” she said, very matter-of-factly. “But Professor, I need to tell you something —”

He could feel his brain splitting apart. “Chair — now.”

She huffed and walked away, leaving Severus with his back to her. If Dumbledore had left, he would have told at least one other person where he had gone, and if it wasn’t Severus, it was probably Minerva. He’d had the suspicion that Dumbledore enjoyed pitting them against one another, but hadn’t any tangible proof to prove the theory, but this sort of evasive, secretive middle-of-the-night bullshit venture was just the sort of thing Dumbledore would do, and if he hadn’t told Severus, there was a reason why.

He conjured the stone he carried with him. Each member of the staff had one in case of emergency and allowed them to communicate. He'd never had a reason to use his, until now.

The girl was back, in the meantime, two sharp jerks on his robes again. “Wait, before you go doing anything, I really need to tell you —”

Severus shook her off — he had half a mind to launch her out the window. “Minerva,” he growled. “where is Albus?”

A groggy voice replied to him a moment or so later. “Severus, do you have any idea what time it is?”

Miss Evans gave him a you’ve-done-it-now look. Minerva must’ve read her and Weasley-twerp the riot act, and then some.

“If I wanted a clock, I would’ve conjured that instead,” Severus snapped. “Where is he?”

The girl eyed the stone like she thought it would explode. Severus distantly thanked any deity listening that there were several walls between him and Minerva at that moment. He’d already been on her shitlist before now, and tomorrow morning, she would certainly be letting him have it. Luckily, Severus was too furious to care.

“He’s gone to the Ministry,” Minerva finally replied, after a silence that was uncomfortably long, her voice as tight as a vise. “there were discussions taking place on whether or not to relocate the Stone. I would suppose if he’s not back yet that he’s gone to Nicholas’ home for the time being — Albus was quite adamant about it.”

Miss Evans gaped, looking at him like she expected an explanation immediately. Severus vanished the useless-stone, and paced the length of Dumbledore’s desk, eyeing the Floo behind it. He half expected the old man to come waltzing out at any second, right on cue, as he often did, but the office stayed silent, the Floo undisturbed. Even Fawkes was gone, but that wasn’t nearly as strange as Dumbledore’s absence. He was almost a piece of the furniture in Severus’ memory, always behind the desk, at the window, by the fire —

why had he chosen tonight to go why tonight?

the girl’s screams cutting through the night air like an arrow to the chest

you saw it you saw it too right it’s killing the unicorns

Severus felt something cold and hard slide down his spine. He fought to grab a hold of his Occlumency, but it was near impossible —

“Goddammit —” Severus snarled, throwing one of the books on Dumbledore’s desk at the wall. It didn’t help curb his anger in the slightest, and this infuriated him even more. Why move the Stone now, after all these months? What was he hiding?

hide them hide them all

something was after the girl the Dark Lord was coming for her

something was following me something won’t stop saying my name

Miss Evans, in the meantime, was frowning deeply up at him. “What’s going on? Why’re they moving the Stone?”

I am going to take Hagrid’s skull apart by hand is what’s going on, you foolish child —

Severus glared down at her, and when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly even. “What do you think is happening?”

He could see her clench her jaw in annoyance. “I think you don’t know either, if I’m being honest.”

“Very good, Miss Evans,” he shot back nastily. “You were more useful keeping your mouth shut, it seems.”

She stormed towards him, fists balled at her sides. “I deserve to know! I — I could’ve died if you hadn’t come! That thing was killing unicorns… Malfoy said nothing kills them, and it stopped when it saw me. You saw it too, didn’t you? You had to have been following us, there’s no way you could’ve gotten there that quick, and I didn’t even use the coin! What was that thing?”

I could’ve died

Professor Snape must’ve cared about her something fierce

she’s not here and you don’t even care

He stared down at her, holding her gaze. She’d inherited his eyes, of all the things, but he had been in denial about how penetrating her gaze could be, how it cut him apart from the inside. She wielded it the way a child wielded a carving knife, unaware of the damage it could inflict.

“Killing a unicorn, let alone drinking one’s blood, is considered a heinous act.” Severus said, keeping his voice devoid of emotion. “You will live a half-life, if you choose to consume it. What you saw in the Forest was a husk of a person — choosing not to surrender to death has its consequences. That thing you witnessed is the product of those choices.”

The thought was too horrifying to consider, but the more Severus pondered it, the more it burrowed into his mind, hollowing out the space where some sort of reprieve had taken hold when the Dark Lord had fallen all those years ago. Dumbledore had often asked him what form the Dark Lord might have taken, but Severus had done his damnedest to avoid the subject, unwilling to give him a shred of conscious thought, unable to make himself imagine where or what the Dark Lord was now, after he’d murdered Lily and Potter. It was too much, and now, Severus almost found it to be amusing, that Dumbledore was gone, and in his stead, Miss Evans now asked him to breach the very thing he’d loathed to say out loud, hated with every fiber of his being, almost as much as he hated himself.

He watched the girl shudder. “That thing must’ve been pretty desperate, then.”

“Desperate,” Severus paused. “and opportunistic.”

She didn’t answer, her eyes wandering around the room once more. She rubbed at her arms, pulling her cloak tightly around her shoulders as she settled back into the chair beside the fire.

“I think that thing is what’s been talking to me,” she said. “It sounded just like it, but I didn’t feel the same way.”

He narrowed his eyes and took a step towards her. The nerves in his hands felt like fire ants marching across his skin. “Explain.”

Miss Evans shook her head, the fire’s reflection in her eyes causing them to glow a deep amber. “It’s weird — my scar always hurts when I see it, but this time it was worse. When I see the Smoke Monster, it almost feels like I’m in a dream, and no one else can see it. Tonight though, Malfoy saw it, and you did too, right? You cast that spell to scare it away.”

Severus had been trying not to think about it. Draco had run straight into him as Severus had barreled down into the ravine, practically shaking the boy’s head off his shoulders until he was able to muster together a general direction he’d left the girl in. He’d heard her screaming, then, and had run into the clearing as a dark mass had lunged at her —

I could’ve died

it won’t leave me alone

“Snape?” she looked straight at him then. He had half a mind to interrupt and berate her for daring to address him by his surname, but she’d never done so before, and he could tell that she was not doing it to be disrespectful. “I have to tell you something — something it said.”

A feeling of dread fell over him, but Severus inclined his head for her to continue. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

Miss Evans took a shaky breath. “I didn’t hear much because I kicked it back —”

Severus stared at her. “You… kicked it.”

She nodded. “In the face,” she added.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and took several steadying breaths. “Of course you did.”

“Well, what else was I supposed to do?” Miss Evans shot back. “I couldn’t reach my wand!’

He couldn’t think of a counterargument to combat that, but the thought encircled him, a cloud that hung over him as he stood. The girl pulled her knees up to her chin, watching him warily as he placed his hands on the arms of the chair, caging her in. The fact that she was avoiding telling him was raising several red flags.

“It wants the letter,” she said, her voice wobbly, but there was force behind it, like putting your hand up to a rattling windowpane. “it wants to know what’s in it.”

An icy fist felt like it was trying to pry its fingers through his ribs. Through the haze of panic and adrenaline, Severus hadn’t been able to see it clearly, but it unraveled swiftly as he understood the gravity of the situation. She’d been a target since that letter — everything had begun the night she’d read it, from the troll invading the school, to all these attacks, to the Dark Lord’s knowledge of the —

it wants me to tell it something

He stood up.

tell me

The girl’s eyes were glued to his.

I don’t know what it wants

Severus could hear the shelves begin to rattle around him.

it won’t leave me alone

Miss Evans gave him a look of alarm, sitting up straighter in her seat. “What —”

“Who did you tell?” Severus hissed.

She opened and closed her mouth several times, and he could practically see her racking her brain, trying to come up with something. “No one! Just Ron and Hermione know, I haven’t told anyone else!”

The anger surged up inside of him, the dim lights suddenly blinding. “There is no possible way he could have known unless you were reckless.”

“I didn’t —” Miss Evans tried, almost desperately. “I swear I didn’t —”

“You pathetically carry it around; anyone could have seen it!”

Her face flushed a deep crimson, the fire turning her hair copper. “It has the Charm on it, there’s no way!”

“You’re going to tell me,” Severus began menacingly. “that in all your little escapades, that you’re never spoken without earshot of someone, or left the damn thing lying about? What about Granger and Weasley?”

“He didn’t know, okay?” she wiped at her eyes before her face smoothed over, cold and empty. “He just wanted it, he had no idea you’re my dad. I — I swear on my magic, the only people that know are Ron and Hermione, and Professor Dumbledore, but you knew that. I’m not stupid — it’s my secret too. None of them would betray me like that — never!”

For a flicker of a moment, he considered using Legilimency on her, but thought of the ramifications and quickly dismissed it. She would fight him, and it would do more harm than good.

“Wait —” Miss Evans gasped. “I told Professor Flitwick! I asked if he could undo the Charm!”

Severus whirled around, his cloak twisting around his ankles. She had gotten up, followed him to the window.

“You don’t think —” she started, but Severus cut her off.

“It’s not Filius,” he almost laughed at the thought. “I can assure you of that. I do recall, however, a good amount of discussion taking place in the staff room over it.”

 Her face twisted in shock, and then anger. “Why’d he do that? It wasn’t any of his business!”

“You have made that damn letter everyone’s business, with how much havoc it’s wrecked —”

“It’s not my fault, I had no idea —”

“You’re right, you had no idea,” Severus bit out. “That damn letter should’ve stayed locked away. You have no conception of what its discovery could do, of what it could jeopardize.”

She wrung her hands in her robes. The freckles around her nose paled.

“I’ll hide it,” she said, and he could tell she wasn’t really talking to him as much as she was trying to convince herself. “I’ll put it somewhere nobody knows — not even Ron and Hermione. I’ll leave it there with the Charm on it —”

He saw it, then — a way out.

As the girl rambled on about what she would do to keep the letter safe, the realization of what he needed to do crept in without making a sound, but its intentions were crystal clear.

I wish I could see what Mum did, the girl had told Dumbledore.

Severus could show her when Lily had seen — he could show her his callousness, his cruelty, his ability to be merciless without a thought. Apathy was a tragedy to Dumbledore, but it was Severus’ greatest tool. He could show her why Lily had not told him about the baby, why she’d gone to Potter, and why she should have never read that damn letter.

He could keep her safe by destroying it — the letter, and her faith in him. He could kill this parasitic attachment, this thing he had allowed to grow. It was his own fault, and they would both pay the price for it, but she didn’t have to know that. It wouldn’t be an outright rejection, but it would be enough — it would cleave her from him without it turning to outright resentment. She wouldn’t be able to solely blame him, but it would be such a blow that the girl would never look at him again without remembering. Severus could protect her from a distance, she wouldn’t entangle herself with him again. She would learn her lesson — she would —

“Accio letter,” he said.

It flew into his hand without hesitation. He knew she would have it with her — he’d caught her checking on it during class before. She hadn’t taken it out, but she handled it with the same reverence a devout Catholic might handle a rosary.

“What’re you doing?” she asked, and she stood, her eyes glued to it, the way a mother watched her child when they were wary of someone who was too close, someone they did not trust.

His voice had gone from him, but his eyes flitted to the fire.

Miss Evans’ face drained of color, and he moved.

“NO!” she lunged at him. She moved fast, but not nearly as fast as he did. Her fists slammed against his legs, pulling on his cloak as she struggled to reach his hands, clawing desperately at his arms. Severus could feel her putting every ounce of energy she had into trying to stop him, but it would not be enough.

“No no no please —”

The girl fought, but Severus moved on automation, letting his legs carry him over to the hearth. He could feel each fold in the parchment, could feel it’s true weight in his hands as Miss Evans put all of hers into stopping him.

“Stop — STOP — please…” she tugged at his arms and legs, trying to force him to trip.

Severus flung the letter into the fire.

The girl tried to grab it, tried to fling herself into the flames to rescue it, but Severus held her back in an iron grip. After a few moments of pleading, she sagged against him, and she fell to the ground.

He let her sit on the floor and cry, unable to move. He would have left if he could, but he deserved to hear her weeping, and deserved how her pain cut through him like a knife. He might as well have been the paper burning in the fireplace.

Her face crumpled, like the burning paper.

“It was the only thing I ever had…” she croaked.

He couldn't breathe. He kept perfectly still, letting it happen, watching the grief turn into bitterness, into resentment, until her entire body was shaking with rage.

“I’m all alone now,” she said. “just like you. Are you happy? Is that what you wanted all this time?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t think he could. She stared up at him with those eyes — not-Lily eyes, and a not-Lily face. This was the first time he was seeing Her — not The Girl in the cupboard, or Lily-thing, or Miss Evans. She had transformed into an entirely different child somehow, in the blink of an eye, or perhaps it had always been there, and he had never seen it. Through the haze of the magnitude of what he had done, of what he could never take back, Severus saw that the girl didn’t look much like Lily at all. Lily had never stood the way the girl did, with endless eyes and a marble face.

He expected her to say that she hated him, to curse him and to swear to never speak to him as long as she lived, but she didn’t. Instead, she looked at the rucksack, and slipped the Cloak out.

And then she was gone.

His hands were shaking — he couldn’t stop shaking, as he lowered himself into one of the chairs by the fire. He lifted his hands to try and feel some of the warmth, but he couldn’t, he’d gone completely numb.

“She’ll be fine,” Severus whispered. “It had to be done.”

He buried his face in his hands as the parchment’s ashes scattered around his feet and fought the burn of regret where his heart had once been.

Severus burned, and waited for Dumbledore to return.

———

The Cloak fell off Ariel halfway back to Gryffindor Tower.

Her limbs were so heavy that she didn’t have the strength to pull it back on, and so she sagged against the wall and cried again. It wasn’t going to do any good, but it felt like the only thing she could do right now. Her tears stung at her cheeks, and she watched them hit the stones, watching them puddle and melt away, and wished she could, too.

She hugged the Cloak to her, and she thought of James wearing it, and wondered if he’d ever used it to sit alone and cry, wondered if he would’ve felt any sort of pity for her, or if he’d resent her like Snape did.

All she’d wanted was for Snape to try, just try — and he had, when he’d hugged her in the alcove, and promised to protect her, but she’d been stupid to think they had meant anything. It was about Mum — it would always be about Mum, and the thought caused her resentment to shift to her, for a split second, before the realization made her heart heavy with guilt.

Ariel had a strangely funny thought, then — this had begun with letters, letters filling up the Dursleys house from top to bottom, spilling out of egg cartons and flinging themselves from the fireplace. She hadn’t cared much about those letters getting destroyed, because she’d known deep down that she’d get her hands on one eventually. Little had she’d known that the most important letter of all had been just above her head all her life, sitting in that stuffy attic. Ariel had thought it the greatest gift Hogwarts had ever given her, but she’d been wrong. Mum had been wrong.

Every time Ariel had tried, and failed, it had taken a little piece. She hadn’t thought about what would happen if Snape had taken the biggest piece of all. Sometimes, she thought of her hand pressed up to that Mirror, thought about what she would say to her Mum if she’d been able to hear — really and truly hear. Now, Ariel knew.

You were wrong, she would scream. You were wrong and you told me it would be okay —

She punched the wall, and then, cradled her fist in her hand, wincing as her fingers throbbed with their own heartbeat. They still hurt from when she’d tried to get Snape to stop, but he’d thrown Mum’s letter into the fire without even hesitating. She’d never have that back — it was gone forever —

She was so cold and empty, so far from herself, that she almost didn’t notice Professor Quirrell at the end of the corridor.

For the first few seconds Ariel just ignored him, hoping he’d go away and leave her be, but she quickly realized that wasn’t going to happen when she felt her fingertips begin to vibrate.

Her head snapped up just in time to see the edges of her vision beginning to wobble, and before Ariel could register what was happening, it was there — hanging over Professor Quirrell, floating just above his head.

Something crackled through it, like lightning in clouds, only it was crimson, and she could feel the whir of magic, even several yards away. It wasn’t the same kind of magic she’d felt in Professor Dumbledore’s office, either. This was something that she wanted nothing to do with — it gave her the feeling like when someone brandished a whip.

The floor suddenly felt very hot. The candles in the hallway all went out at once, plunging Ariel into a darkness she hadn’t known was possible.

She could hear footsteps slapping against stone. Every cell in her body was screaming for her to run as her scar erupted in pain, but she couldn’t move — she couldn’t feel her legs, she was empty and cold and bottomless and hopeless —

When Ariel managed to open her eyes through the haze of pain, she saw Them.

Professor Quirrell’s smile widened — it was too wide, a smile with too many teeth, a smile that stretched too far in both directions. Ariel felt her heart skip a beat, and when it came back, it slammed against her sternum like a hummingbird’s.

the wanderer weary, full of fear

“Whatever you did,” Professor Quirrell said. “that was the last piece he needed.”

And then his darkness swallowed her whole.