Severus stared down at the pocket watch, making certain that it read Gryffindor Tower before placing it back into his trousers.

Dumbledore turned away from the window to gaze back at him, rain battering against it. The room was quiet, save for the fire crackling in the hearth and Fawkes’ gentle preening. Even the portraits were silent, grave expressions on their faces as they waited for the current Headmaster to offer his opinion on the matter. Severus had come to him after making sure Miss Evans had climbed through the Fat Lady’s portrait, and there had not yet been a single word exchanged between the two, only solemn stares that conveyed the seriousness of the situation. Severus didn’t know where to begin, really, and he supposed Dumbledore didn’t either.

Unspoken words hung in the air between them, like breath curling into mist. It took every mite of Severus’ strength not to break something, to force himself to believe that Dumbledore cared about the girl’s safety as much as he did, and that he wasn’t being purposefully obtuse. They both had too much to lose if something happened to her — the thought was incomprehensible. The old man’s silence, however, was only adding to Severus’ uneasiness as the seconds dragged by.

once I started I couldn’t stop

it’s been in my dreams it won’t leave me alone

you don’t care what I do or what happens

Severus stifled the urge to check the pocket watch again.

“Minerva is quite upset.” Dumbledore finally said, the grim expression on his face unwavering. “Rightfully so, but I’ve convinced her to hold off any punishment until morning.”

Severus kneaded his forehead with his thumbs, leaning heavily against the back of a chair. “That’s your concern right now?”

Dumbledore hummed a short, quick sound, like he wasn’t quite sure. Severus knew, though — he knew that he’d been disturbed at what Miss Evans had seen, what she’d heard, and what she had done. Severus knew, because he felt it, too. It hung high above their heads, just below the vaulted ceiling, where the whir of magic usually was. The office’s once comforting glow now seemed ominous — warning lights, a red sun rising at dawn.

“It is a good thing you found her when you did,” Dumbledore went on, his voice heavy.

Severus could still picture Granger flying into his office, the door slightly ajar since he had been preparing to leave for dinner. There was a frantic, fresh sort of panic that Severus had not seen since Miss Evans had crashed into him on Halloween. Granger hadn’t even managed to say whatever she’d flown down to the dungeons to say. Severus had known it was Miss Evans, and he’d known that it wasn’t good.

Severus swallowed roughly. “She said it’s gaining more of a form, becoming more corporeal.”

Dumbledore lifted his eyes back towards the window, wind slamming the rain against the glass. “It spoke to her again, you said? Did it demand anything?”

“No, it just… told her to act on her impulses.”

Dumbledore made a new kind of sound, one that was strong and disapproving. “That type of behavior cannot be tolerated, Severus.”

“It wasn’t her doing,” he forced through gritted teeth. “surely you realize that.”

“On the contrary, it’s for that very reason I must insist Ariel be dealt with, and swiftly.” Dumbledore said, his eyes dark and intense, like the storm outside. “Resorting to violence, even when persuaded, must be discouraged. She cannot fall into the habit of using force when faced with adversity.”

Severus’ temple began to throb. “She’s eleven, for Merlin’s sake. The little beasts brawl like common Muggles until they learn to throw their first Hex.”

“Ariel will be tempted more than any of them,” Dumbledore said seriously.

“You never gave a damn when Potter and Black threw punches for far less.” he snapped.

Fawkes stopped his grooming to stare up at Severus, as if he understood that he had let something slip he hadn’t meant to, and wanted to make sure he knew this. Severus sent him a warning glare, and Fawkes chirped, cocking his head at him.

“Those were far different circumstances,” Dumbledore said, not unkindly. “James was not Marked for something no child should be subjected to.”

Severus threw himself off the chair, balling his fists at his sides. “This is pointless. You need to do something — or better yet, let me have my way with Quirrell, if you truly think he’s somehow involved.”

Dumbledore’s brow furrowed. “I cannot allow you to practice Dark Magic within this school.”

“Dark Magic can find whoever’s doing this!” Severus snarled.

“I forbid it, Severus.” Dumbledore's face was stern and unyielding. “Ariel cannot be exposed to such things, especially now.”

“She would not be exposed —”

“You are her father,” Dumbledore said, and Severus flinched. “If you were to fall into old patterns, she would inevitably make contact. She is too young and would not be able to resist the temptation.”

Like you, a voice whispered, you could not resist, and it cost you everything.

“It would keep her safe!” Severus shot back, but his voice wavered. He cursed himself for it.

Dumbledore’s eyes softened. “I know you worry for her —”

“Don’t mistake this for pity.” Severus hissed. “That girl is being hunted.”

He recalled her bloody knuckles, the way they shimmered in the pale light. Her thin face twisted in pain and misery, her black eyes shining with tears, and a childlike rage that Severus knew all too well. That rage would turn into hunger, and when it did, the girl would destroy herself from the inside out as Severus had, almost a decade ago. He’d spent so much time seeing Lily in the girl that he had forgotten that half of her was also Severus, and that she could be susceptible to the same darkness that had lured him in. The parts of Severus in their daughter could ruin her.

He would move Heaven and Earth to make sure that did not happen. He owed it to Lily.

“It cannot harm her, I promise you.” Dumbledore took a tentative step towards him, his robes trailing behind him. “I would not allow Ariel to stay here if I was not certain of this.”

Severus gave a humorless snort. “No, you’ll just allow it to torture the girl into insanity.”

“Which is why I am thankful that she is spending her evenings with you.” Dumbledore sighed, and it was a tired sound, one that Severus had never heard before. The year had heralded many things he had heard for the first time. Even after working for Dumbledore for a decade, Severus was still irritated to find that he hadn’t quite figured him out yet. It frightened him to know that a wizard as seemingly all-knowing as Dumbledore could be equally as lost as Severus was.

He glared at him, wanting to rip that solemn look right off his face. “Detention isn’t going to keep that thing at bay for much longer.”

“No, but it will keep her under close watch. It hasn’t attacked her while she’s been with you, has it? I would suppose that’s for a very good reason.”

“Until it becomes desperate.” Severus said bitterly. “Then what would you have me do? I cannot fight an enemy I cannot see!”

Dumbledore ignored his question. Fawkes chirped happily at him as his brow deepened in thought, murmurs from the portraits amongst one another offering no possible insights. They’d insisted that they had never seen anything like this before inside of Hogwarts, but this was not news to Severus. There had never been someone like Miss Evans, either.

“Did Ariel mention what triggered this?” Dumbledore fell against the side of his desk, hands gripping the sides. There was a faraway look in his eyes, one that told Severus he knew more than he was letting on, but couldn’t decide if it was worth sharing.

“Draco was pining for her attention,” Severus muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Unfortunately, it seems that Lucius forgot to teach the boy some tact. He has the subtlety of a freight train, and has been ruthless in his approach.”

“I assume you’ll be speaking with him?” Dumbledore’s eyes flashed in a way that told Severus this was not a suggestion.

“I won’t be able to do much, if that’s what you’re implying. Draco will grow bored eventually, but once Narcissa and Lucius hear what Miss Evans did to their precious baby boy… Lucius will be mortified, but Narcissa will likely want blood.”

“All the more reason that Ariel must understand the gravity of the situation.” Dumbledore said with a sigh. “She does not need more enemies, although Minerva has mentioned that Draco has been particularly vicious. Have you seen no cause to intervene?”

He hadn’t — what the little dunderheads did amongst themselves, Severus couldn’t have given less of a fuck about. As long as they weren’t causing bodily harm to one another (Miss Evans had checked that box off tonight), Severus didn’t bother… well, unless he found out that one of his Snakes was being harassed by another House. Then Severus took great pleasure in exercising his authority over the little shits. The favoritism was enough to keep the Slytherins in check, for the most part. The harassment from the other Houses, particularly the Gryffindor’s, mattered very little to the students if they knew Severus would always rule in their favor.

“Miss Evans has appeared unaffected.” Severus said, nonplussed.

Dumbledore inclined his head. “I would beg to differ.”

“Obviously,” Severus snapped back. “I would think that the boy has learned enough of a lesson. The girl broke his damn nose.”

“There is no harm in speaking to Draco,” Dumbledore said, almost resignedly. “He will have to make his own choices, in time. There’s certainly no harm in giving him a gentle push in the right direction.”

“A gentle push, or being beaten to a pulp by a girl half his size?” Severus muttered. “I see no discernable difference in the lingering effects you wish me to have on the boy. He’ll back off for the time being.”

Dumbledore gazed pensively out the window. “You would know best, Severus. I trust you.”

Then let me find who’s doing this, whispered a dark, insidious voice. Let me tear them limb from limb, let me do what I need to.

“That still begs the question of what to do with Miss Evans.” Severus joined Dumbledore beside the window. Gryffindor Tower was visible in the distance, sparks of light blooming behind the windows, even through the sheets of rain. Severus would’ve bet his wand arm the pyrokinetics were the work of the Weasley-terrors. He wondered if they were trying to cheer the girl up.

Dumbledore’s searching look went straight through him, like an X-ray. “If it is Tom —”

Severus knuckles cracked at his sides, and the shadows grew longer, darker, hungrier.

“ — then it is imperative that we keep a closer watch on Ariel. She should not go anywhere unaccompanied from now on, especially after curfew.”

Severus very nearly rolled his eyes. He’d put a Sticking Charm on her to keep her in that blasted Tower, if it came down to it. If the girl went anywhere she wasn’t supposed to, Severus was going to fucking lose it on them all.

“And Quirrell?” Severus asked softly.

Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him, and gave a ghost of a smile.

————

Ariel entered the girls’ dormitory expecting to be given the cold shoulder, but instead, found Lavender and Parvarti lying in wait. She hadn’t even managed to make it over the threshold before something crashed into her, squeezing her ribs so hard it was a bloody wonder they didn’t crack.

“Oh, Ariel,” it was Parvarti. “Are you alright?”

“What happened?” Lavender cried from somewhere behind her.

Ariel tried to say Malfoy and his fat mouth, but instead wound up with a mouthful of hair. She sputtered and Parvarti relinquished her hold, a fresh layer of concern on her face. Ariel wanted to feel grateful and relieved, but all she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and never come out.

“What did that prat do?” Parvati demanded. “We overheard Angelina telling the Quidditch team he was running his mouth about your parents.”

Something cold and icy gripped at Ariel. “Yeah, something like that.”

“As if that cow Pansy Parkinson wasn’t enough.” Lavender fumed, but it was diluted by the fact that she’d settled back on the floor, clothing items strung across the stones. “What’s his problem?”

Ariel shrugged, not really knowing the answer. It wasn’t about Malfoy — it was about the Giant Smoke Monster — but she couldn’t go telling them that. They’d think she’d gone completely mental, and Ariel had a hunch that half the castle would be thinking that by tomorrow morning. She supposed Malfoy didn’t like being snubbed, and Ariel had been doing that practically since the moment she’d met him. The Gryffindors would take her side, obviously, but she had a feeling the Slytherins weren’t going to react well at all.

Parvati sighed. “It’s the whole lot of Slytherins, really. I’m sure Professor Snape won’t dock Malfoy any points for saying all that rubbish.”

Dark eyes slashing through the moonlight like razors

I am not your enemy

“No,” Ariel said tonelessly. “Probably not.”

“Maybe he fancies you,” Lavender supplied, rather unhelpfully. “He’s a horrid snob, but he’s not bad to look at.”

Ariel blinked at her, trying not to dry heave. “If Malfoy fancies me, he’s got a funny way of showing it.”

“Don’t you know?” Parvati cocked her head at her. “If a boy teases you, that means he likes you. Boys are too stupid to figure it out.”

She didn’t like hearing that, especially when it came to Malfoy, one bit. “I don’t think any girl should put up with that sort of rubbish.”

“You sound like Hermione,” Lavender rolled her eyes.

“Good,” Ariel bristled. “Girls ought to have some sense, if that’s how boys are going to treat them.”

“Whatever,” Parvati joined Lavender on the floor, shuffling through her trunk. “I’d rather be fancied than hated for no good reason.”

“I think being hated by Malfoy says a whole lot of good about me,” she shot back hotly.

Parvarti shrugged, Ariel’s retort bouncing off of her like rubber. She’d never had friends before, and it was a wonderful feeling to know that even though Lavender and Parvarti were each other’s best friends, they cared about her. Ariel had only ever had one friend before Hogwarts — a boy named Damon, but he’d only been at her Muggle school a few weeks, and had disappeared (to where Ariel had no clue). He’d been the only student who hadn’t been scared of Dudley’s stupid gang.

Speaking of friends —

It was then that Ariel realized Hermione was not there. She should’ve been up here already, unpacking…

Ariel’s gut twisted sharply. “Hey, have either of you seen Hermione? Has she come back from dinner yet?”

Parvati shook her head, her attention quickly diverted to whatever Lavender was unpacking. “Oooh, Lav, that’s gorgeous.”

She looked down at the friendship bracelet. She hadn’t noticed if Hermione was wearing it or not when she’d come in earlier, but looking down at it, Ariel could see that it was glowing a muted yellow. That meant worry — she’d spent her free time memorizing the colors and their meanings so she would never have to guess and accidentally let Hermione down.

Ariel sighed heavily, her feet dragging the rest of her towards her four-poster. She landed face first on the bed, wishing the mattress would swallow her whole. She thought about going to find Hermione, but Snape had told her to stay in her Tower, and she wasn’t about to go disobeying him after what had happened.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to make sense of it all. The Stone and the Giant Smoke Monster were becoming a much bigger problem than she’d anticipated, and she couldn’t help but think that somehow, Snape was more involved than they both knew. The thought scared her — if Snape didn’t know what to do, what chance did they have to stop this thing? Their fun mystery had taken a dangerous turn so suddenly, without warning, and Ariel didn’t know how to make any of it stop. She certainly didn’t want this thing — whatever the heck it was — to get its claws on the Stone, but she wasn’t sure what she could do about it if it could make her lose her nerve like that…

tell me what it says

does your scar hurt when you wake up?

everyone says he’s not really dead

Ariel suppressed a shudder. She hadn’t wanted Snape to leave, but she knew that if she got clingy, he would probably throw her out of a window or something, so she’d reluctantly resigned herself to letting him drag her down to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had given her a full check-up while Snape had gone to see how Malfoy was doing. Ariel could hear him moaning, and for once, she knew that he wasn’t being overdramatic. Her knuckles had shimmered in the pale moonlight — Madam Pomfrey had vanished the blood before Ariel could ask.

She couldn’t make herself think about the not-hug. It had probably been the most uncomfortable gesture of comfort ever, but she couldn’t imagine ever needing it more than that moment, and Snape had given it… willingly.

“Are you awake?”

Ariel nearly spun herself out of bed, turning to see Hermione climbing onto the opposite end of her bed. She nodded, almost frantically, clutching at the bedsheets as she tried to read Hermione’s face. It was blank, which was not like her. Normally, Hermione hid her emotions about as well as Neville did. Ariel shot a glance down at the bracelet — still yellow.

“Where’d you go?” Ariel asked. Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she cleared her throat, afraid that Hermione would think she’d been crying.

“I went to the library,” Hermione folded her hands in her lap, like she was building up the courage to say something. “I went to do some research after you ran off.”

A rock lodged itself in the back of Ariel’s throat. “I wasn’t —”

“I know,” Hermione waved her off. “That's why I got Professor Snape.”

you saw something

it’s returned, hasn’t it?

Ariel averted her eyes, staring down at the bedspread. “I’m sorry. I know you were only trying to help.”

Hermione sighed. “I know you trust him. He didn’t hesitate the second I said your name. Actually, I don’t even think I got that far. He must’ve taken one look at me and known something was wrong.”

Something warm nestled beneath her ribs. “I’m glad you got him, even after what Ron said.”

“I didn’t believe it.”

“I know that.”

“Sometimes, it’s hard not to, though.”

Ariel felt her heart give a nasty jolt. Hermione stared back evenly at her, like she was an adult, far wiser than Ariel was, as if they both weren’t eleven, and Hermione knew that this was going to happen.

“What do you mean?” Ariel asked warily.

Hermione’s composure slipped, then. Through the cracks of pretend-grown-up-Hermione, Ariel saw her eyes beginning to water. “I mean that you’ve changed ever since we read that letter.”

Something bubbled up inside of Ariel, something she’d felt when they’d followed Snape after Fluffy had tried to chew off his leg. She recalled the look Hermione had given her when she’d insisted on following Snape, just after he’d told her to bugger off.“I should think so, I only found out that I had a parent who was alive.”

“I don’t mean that,” Hermione shook her head. “I know that meant a lot to you, but you’ve been… secretive. You weren’t like that when we first met.”

Ariel traded her grip on the bedsheets for Hermione’s hand. “I trust you more than anyone. I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to do anymore. It’s getting worse, between these dreams and hearing voices and Snape doesn’t even know what to do anymore…”

Hermione was quiet for a long moment, the grown-up facade slipping. Ariel could see her trying to find her next words, that she was choosing them carefully. “Someone who cares about you doesn’t make you keep secrets for them.”

Ariel stared at her, not comprehending her words. “He’s not making me do anything.”

“You’ve been in detention with him for months —”

“How is that keeping a secret?” Ariel asked, bewildered. “I told you that’s where I go every night! Practically everyone knows I’m stuck down there — the Slytherins don’t let me forget it!”

“I know that’s not actually what’s happening!” Hermione’s eyes flitted to Lavender and Parvarti, who were engrossed in a box of jewelry they were organizing. Hermione put up a quick Silencing Spell with a flick of her wand, drawing the bed curtains closed.

“I’m not lying about this, Hermione!” Ariel said in a hushed, annoyed voice. “Why else would I be going down there? Do you think I like gutting toads in those creepy dungeons?”

Hermione sucked in a deep breath. “I overheard Professor McGonagall giving Professor Snape grief about having you down there every night. She was upset, she’d thought you’d served your punishment long enough, and he was so dismissive of her, and even though she was very adamant, he wouldn’t budge. Then I started noticing you coming back from those detentions, and you were so sad some nights, and you wouldn’t tell me anything, and after a while, I started wondering if Ron was right about it being Professor Snape all along, but I know that he’s your father, and you trust him, but Ariel —”

Ariel’s chest felt uncomfortably tight, like she was fighting to breathe. “Then why bother getting him earlier?”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” Hermione said, her voice steady, but her face was shining with tears. “You trust him, but Ariel, he’s horrible —”

“I know that,” she said miserably, but she thought of his arm around her shoulders and felt a wave of guilt crash over her. “but he — he has these passing moments where he’s not, and I wonder if that’s what Mum saw. He saved me from that Bludger — you saw it!”

Hermione bit her lip. “I don’t think Dumbledore would allow him to be here if he didn’t trust him, but that doesn’t make him a good person. You are a good person.”

“He’s a git and a bully, but he’s not evil, and he’s definitely not after the Stone.”

“But then why does he keep you down there every night?” Hermione demanded, her voice splitting between anger and betrayal. “Just tell me! You’re not yourself and I can see it, I would think I know my best friend.”

Ariel wanted to be angry again, to slam up from the bed and storm out of Gryffindor Tower with her Invisibility Cloak and hide somewhere, but she couldn’t dig any deeper than she already had. There was a terrible gnawing that reminded her that Hermione was being sincere, and that she only wanted what was best for her… but where had this come from? Hermione had never confronted her on the Snape Problem so boldly, and even though they were both Gryffindors, Ariel could tell that Hermione had worked up a lot of nerve to say what she had.

She wasn’t going to let her down. Hermione was right — lying had never been Ariel’s thing. She’d never even lied to the Dursley’s much, and that was because she’d never really had a reason to. They never believed anything she said, so she was always truthful, and most times, the truth had always gotten her the same reaction; disgust and disdain. Hermione wasn’t like the Dursleys, though.

Ariel reached into her pocket, and placed the coin into her palm. Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but Ariel held up a finger, signaling for her to wait.

Thank you, she thought, the words fading as soon as they’d appeared.

Go to sleep, it replied a moment later.

Hermione looked incredibly confused. “Wha—”

“It’s Snape,” Ariel said, keeping her voice low. “He gave this to me in case something went wrong. I use it when that — that thing shows up, alright? The detentions are so that he can keep an eye on me. You’re right, I did lie, but he didn’t want anyone to know the truth, and I owed it to him since he’s helping me.”

“But that’s what I mean, Ariel!” Hermione scooted closer. “Why do you have to lie about this? Why is it such a big secret?”

“Because he doesn’t know who’s after the Stone either! I don’t think any of the professors do…”

“Being your father has nothing to do with the Stone.” Hermione whispered, her voice hard, but uneven and clumsy, like a rock falling down a hill.

Ariel stared at her, something hanging in the air between them. It was the same thing she felt in her dreams, when the woman’s eyes met hers from the mirror. Something just out of reach, something precious that floated above an endless abyss, or sat at the bottom of the deepest ocean.

“Tell me what you saw before,” Hermione broke the thick silence, like she knew what Ariel was about to ask, and wanted to stop her. “Please.”

She did, then, pouring out everything that had happened over the past few months. She told Hermione about the Mirror, about the Giant Smoke Monster, how Snape had promised her that he would protect her, and how he’d broken that promise after she’d broken it first.

Hermione was quiet for a long time, her face set in concentration, just like when she was taking a test in class. The longer the silence went on, Ariel began to regret telling her, afraid that Hermione might think she was mental, but just as Ariel went to apologize, to tell her to forget about it, Hermione threw her arms around her. It was a far better hug than the one Snape had given, but something inside of Ariel still felt hollow… strangely empty.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hermione said once she’d pulled away. “You should have said something!”

Ariel swallowed roughly. “I couldn’t really explain it… I knew it was there sometimes, but I didn't know how. Once Malfoy and I started going at it it felt like I wasn’t in control. I couldn’t help it… it was like I had to listen. All the other times I’ve been able to block it out.”

Hermione’s face clouded with worry. “Has anything like that happened before?”

She thought about it — she didn’t think anything quite like the Giant Smoke Monster had ever happened, but losing her temper wasn’t exactly new. It hadn’t happened often at the Dursley’s — usually, they’d have to do something really horrible to get Ariel to retaliate, but she could remember pouncing on Dudley a couple of times. Usually he was able to give her one good punch to throw her off since Ariel was so small, but she’d never done anything like what she’d done to Malfoy’s face.

“No,” Ariel said quietly. “I’ve never been that angry in my whole life.”

“Did you tell Professor Snape this?” Hermione asked, seriously.

Ariel nodded jerkily. “He knows everything.”

Hermione was very quiet for a moment. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this thing has only shown up after you read that letter.”

Ariel spun up from the bed, her heart burning in her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I only meant —”

“Just because you don’t understand him doesn’t mean he’s trying to off me!” Ariel shot back.

“That’s not what I was trying to say —”

She could feel it happening again, the anger surging up in her, crashing towards her like a tidal wave. Ariel slammed up from the bed, shoving the curtains back forcefully, which caused Lavender to drop a necklace she was dangling in Parvarti’s face with a gasp.

“What’s going —” Ariel heard Lavender say, but she’d slammed into loo without a backwards glance. The door made the floor vibrate underneath her feet as Ariel struggled to catch her breath, trying to push everything down down down —

The bracelet’s deep blue glow illuminated the bathroom, scattering across the ceiling like starlight.

Ariel had been afraid of this color most of all.

———

Severus found Quirrell in his office.

He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, the facade of control slipping the farther he strayed from Dumbledore’s office. He hadn’t promised the old man anything, and while he’d sworn a decade ago to never utilize Dark Magic inside of the school, Dumbledore had never specified using other nefarious means of getting information.

The pocket watch vibrated against his leg. Severus flipped it over, his feet already pivoted in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

Thank you, it read.

Severus stared down at the words, leaning his forehead against the stone as they faded. Miss Evans would not be thanking him if she knew that he had failed her yet again. Months of this thing lurking in the halls, and Severus wasn’t any closer to unmasking the culprit. All he had was Quirrell, and Dumbledore’s gut feeling. He was tired of knowing nothing, and being reminded that something was wrong all the damn time.

It was with this thought in mind that Severus let himself into Quirrell’s office.

His face went white as bone when he caught sight of him. “P-please Severus, n-n-not again.”

Severus leaned across the desk. “Well well, we’re rather presumptuous tonight, aren’t we?”

“I k-know by now w-what you w-w-want!” Quirrell stood, but did not reach for his wand. Severus couldn’t tell if he was being smart, or an even bigger imbecile than he’d originally thought. “I’ve t-told you, I don’t know anything about the S-stone!”

“You don’t think I know what you’ve been doing?”

Quirrell’s eyes widened. “What are you—”

“Come now, it’s quite obvious,” Severus shook his head in mock dismay. “using the students as a distraction?”

“I would n-never —”

“Not even Miss Evans?” Severus hissed.

“I w-would never think of harming a s-student!” Quirrell sputtered. “I swore an oath to p-protect them, same as y-you!”

“I’m going to tell you something, Quirinius.” Severus said, deceptively soft. “Thoughts are never honest. Emotions, however, usually are.”

The end of his wand burned red.

———

Ariel had thought Snape being mad was scary, but he had nothing on Professor McGonagall.

“Never, in my many years as a professor, have I seen two Gryffindor students lower themselves to such depravity!” Professor McGonagall began as soon as Ariel and Ron had taken their seats in front of her. She’d sent them separate notes that morning, as they were heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast, and had reluctantly made their way to her office. “To allow yourselves to be goaded and to act so impulsively — I am appalled that the two of you would resort to such things.”

Ariel stared down at her shoes, wanting to disappear into the floorboards. She hadn’t slept, and Hermione hadn’t been in the dorm when Ariel had finally peeled herself out of bed. She was still angry — it burned hot, like a pile of coal in the pit of her stomach. She’d known that this scolding was coming, but she wished it could’ve waited a while longer.

“So what?” Ron cried out angrily. “Malfoy gets to run his mouth and we just have to take it?”

Ariel rammed the corner of her shoe into his shin. Ron didn’t seem to care.

“Mr Malfoy will be serving the same detention as you, Mr Weasley.” Professor McGonagall said coolly. Her eyes could’ve sliced through marble like butter. “I will send you notice of when and where, and you will do so without another complaint. Is that understood?”

Ariel and Ron exchanged a sullen look.

“Is that understood?” Professor McGonagall asked again, much louder that time. Ariel and Ron nearly jumped out of their skin.

“Yes, ma’am.” they both responded, suddenly very awake.

“Good,” Professor McGonagall stood, her expression frostier than the windowpane behind her. “In addition to your detention, I will also be deducting two-hundred points from Gryffindor.”

“WHAT?” Ron very nearly shouted at the same time Ariel bleated. “Two-hundred?”

“Yes, two-hundred.” Professor McGonagall confirmed, quite mercilessly, like she was assigning them homework instead of ruining their chances for the House Cup. “I would hope that this serves as a reminder that the standards for our House are far above the actions you both decided to partake in yesterday.”

“Please, Professor!” Ariel tried desperately. “We’re so close to beating the Slytherins, we’ll never catch up to them if you take that many points!”

“Then you should have thought of that before you chose brute force in dealing with Mr Malfoy.” Professor McGonagall said stiffly. “I thought much better of you than that, Miss Evans. And you, Mr Weasley, attacking Mr Goyle unprovoked —”

“He was going to put his grubby hands on Ariel —” Ron protested.

“In an effort to save Mr Malfoy’s face, I would assume.” Professor McGonagall finished. “There are no excuses here. You will wait for my owl for your detention assignment, and I will not hear any more complaining about the matter. You’re both dismissed.”

They dragged themselves out of her office, the door shutting itself quite forcefully behind them. Ariel and Ron just looked at each other, both of them equally miserable.

“Well,” Ron finally said after a minute or two. “it was worth it, I’d say. I just wish I could say the rest of Gryffindor would agree.”

“The Slytherins are going to love us.” Ariel rolled her eyes. “They’ll never let us live it down.”

“They might,” he smirked. “I overheard Pansy crying to Daphne after dinner last night. You broke Draco’s nose, and gave him a shiner. I’d be pretty scared of you, if I were one of those creeps.”

“Thanks,” Ariel murmured. “but I think we’re both in for it.”

Ron gave a dejected sigh. “Where’s Hermione? I didn’t see her come down this morning while I was waiting for you.”

“We had a fight,” Ariel said tiredly. She’d never been so tired in her entire life.

Ron frowned. “About what?”

“About…” Ariel didn’t want to tell him it was about Snape. Ron usually never passed up an opportunity to try and usurp Hermione’s opinion, but when it came to Snape, Ron had made it very clear where he stood. “About what happened with Malfoy.”

Ron made a face. “He deserved every inch of what he got.”

“Maybe I did go a bit… overboard.”

“Yeah…” Ron stopped suddenly, giving her a sideways look. “Are you alright, mate? I didn’t see you after you came back last night, but we were all really worried.”

“He just knows what buttons to push, Ron.” Ariel hesitated. “After Hermione said it might be Voldemort after the Stone… I dunno, I just couldn’t take another row with Malfoy.”

He stood there quietly for a moment, hands shoved inside his robe pockets. “I know, I didn’t think I could either, if I’m being honest. Snape doesn’t do anything about him, and it’s not like he’d be dumb enough to do anything in front of any of the other professors.”

The cold and icy feeling slithered down into Ariel’s stomach, clashing nauseatingly with the anger that still burned, that was growing.

“He’s just…” Ariel made a face. “He’s unbearable.”

“Most Slytherins are.” Ron gave her arm a sympathetic pat. “Hermione didn’t agree?”

Ariel shrugged. The anger flared inside her sternum. The ends of her fingers trembled at her sides. Somewhere, a voice called, drowning out whatever Ron was saying as they walked back down to the Great Hall.

Tell me

(what’s happening to me?)

———