Alright... after much debate, I'm splitting the Prisoner of Azkaban Finale into three parts, because it would be like... 25,000 words otherwise lmao. So enjoy this part 1.

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Your name is Gwendolyn Goode. You've been teaching at Hogwarts for a grand total of ten months, and you still remain utterly and entirely disenchanted with the wizarding world. Of course, it was all terribly captivating at first; the chance to help educate young minds, the chance to reconnect with past friends… the chance to make new ones. But much to your dismay, it didn't even take that long this time to make it resoundingly clear what complete and utter garbage this year would turn out to be.

You distinctly remembered hoping that the howling storm on the night of the Welcoming Feast wouldn't be nature setting the stage, for the tone of the year. But perhaps your third eye wasn't actually all that clouded, because goddamn if that wasn't exactly what had come to pass. There was no denying it; your first year of teaching at Hogwarts had been a total bloody disaster.

Well. Okay. Not the teaching part, oddly enough. In fact, the teaching part was probably the only thing that had gone right. As exam week came to a close and you began the grading process, you'd been pleased to find that the majority of your students had passed. It was a testament, you hoped, that at the very least you were actually pretty good at your job. And honestly, if it hadn't been for that, you very certainly would have considered leaving the position come summer. Would have considered not returning for another term in the fall. Because the stress of everything else that had happened this year would have been too much, if it had turned out that you'd sucked at teaching, too.

But things were finally coming to an end, now. Next week, you'd be on a train back to London, back into your mother's arms (and flat), and back to muggle mundanity. And you were so very fucking much looking forward to it. You just wanted to spend your days drawing, painting, reading. Maybe you'd score a little weed from your mother, gorge yourself on candy and cartoons and just let yourself go. Or maybe visit mum and Lou at Nightjars in the evenings and just… get totally smashed on pints and cocktails. Shit, maybe you'd hook up with an old friend and get laid for the first time in a year (Wouldn't that be something?). You wanted nothing more than to put this year far, far behind you. Indulge yourself in trivialities and trifles. And then maybe later, you could think about the future…

But you just needed to get through the now. That's what you were chanting in your head as you walked through the twilight halls of the castle, on your way to Remus' office, for what would be the last time this school year. It was the final full moon before term ended, and the knowledge of that left you feeling… some sort of way. You allowed yourself a sense of pride, for how everything had gone in terms of this part of your job requirements. Yes okay, Severus really did do most of the work for you; you had never managed to cast all of the same protective spells that he had, and though your magic had steadily grown in strength over the year, it had never quite recovered to the way it had been before.

But even still, Remus had gone the entire year without so much as a hiccup, because of your potion. As far as you were aware, no one had suspected anything, and if Severus' essay assignment had alerted suspicions, then no one had let on about it. And the fact remained; the potion that you had dedicated three years of your life to perfecting, had done its job flawlessly. And that gave you hope, that maybe it hadn't all been a huge waste of time. That maybe you really had done something right. Done something good. That you had really helped someone.

And wasn't that what you'd always wanted?

You flinched as you walked past the tall castle windows, trying hard to avoid glancing out of them. You didn't want to catch of glimpse of Hagrid's hut, because you knew what would be taking place down there, any moment now. It broke your heart, knowing that Hagrid had started this year just as optimistic as you had been. He'd probably had a worse year than you, which was saying something, considering. You swallowed hard as you hurried past the bank of windows that faced the forest, knowing if you just peered down a fraction, you'd be able to see… and possibly hear, anything that was happening out on the grounds. And you definitely didn't want to hear it, either.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding as you finally crossed the threshold of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, snapping the door shut behind you. As if that barrier of ancient wood was enough to protect you from the terrors outside. You sighed heavily, resolving to spend some time with Hagrid tomorrow; you simply couldn't bring yourself to be there for him right now. Didn't wish to witness the atrocity that was a direct result of the whims of one Lucius Malfoy. But you could offer your condolences and support, once the deed was done. And besides, you had other things to tend to this evening.

The Defense classroom was… oddly quiet as you made your way across it, towards the stone steps that lead up to Remus' office. Severus should have brought the potion by now, you thought… You would usually make the delivery together along with him, but on the rare occasion you were running late, Severus was unlikely to wait around for you. He knew the importance of administering the potion before sundown. As did Remus. So if you ever were late, you would typically arrive and be greeted by Severus waiting on the landing for you, or hear the sounds of Remus making preparations in his office. You'd only been running a little behind, caught up grading papers and fretting over Hagrid. The sun hadn't set yet. It was still relatively early.

So why did it sound like nobody was here?

A cold wash of dread spilled over you as your heartrate spiked. You walked quickly across the classroom, and by the time you reached the stairs, you'd worked yourself into such a frenzy that you took the stone steps two at a time. Your frantic brain tried to supply reason; that maybe Severus already cast the silencing charm, that they were having a private conversation, or maybe even a row. But the office door was slightly ajar, and you knew even before you slammed your shoulder into it, that the room was going to be completely and utterly empty.

Oh god… Oh god, oh god, oh god. You practically leapt across the office, crashing into the door of Remus' quarters and shoving it open, only to find these rooms vacant as well. You stumbled inside, checking the lavatory, the closet. Nothing. Empty. Fuck fuck FUCK! The mounting panic was making you feel hot, your head light and dizzy as you staggered back into the office. Swallowing down the sick feeling in your throat, you scanned the office, looking for signs of a struggle, or an attack, or something-

Your insides went cold as your eyes landed on the desk.

It was still faintly steaming, curling wisps of blue smoke rising from the entirely untouched goblet of Wolfsbane potion.

You were shivering as you collapsed into the desk chair, the wood and leather groaning under your weight… but… even after you leaned forward, your elbows on the desk, your fingers gripping your hair, the groaning didn't cease… and you realized that the sound was not coming from the chair, but from you. From your throat. A low, rattling moan, and you clapped your hands over your mouth to stop the dreadful sound that you knew was mounting into a scream.

You clamped your eyes shut, gritting your teeth together as you tried to breathe… breathe… breathe. But your teeth were chattering, your body shaking, and you slipped your elbows from the desk, curling over yourself to push your face into your knees, to try and curl into a tight ball, so tight, to stop the shaking... Breathe Gwendolyn… Breathe.

Severus has been here.

Severus came to this room before you. He brought the potion. It was still on the desk. So Severus had come here and Remus… where was Remus? Severus wouldn't have just left the potion for Remus to find on his own. He would have tried to find Remus himself. So where was Remus? What in the fucking world could have happened for Remus to not be here? On the night of a full moon?

Breathe… Breathe…

You were still trembling, but at least your teeth weren't clacking together now as you finally sat up again. You quickly wiped your eyes and scanned the desk. Maybe there was a note… Didn't matter from who. But just… Some indication. Some warning or explanation. But there wasn't anything on the desk but the cooling potion and a dusty bit of parchment…

You jumped with a gasp, before leaning over the desk and staring vacuously down at the parchment. It appeared to be some sort of blueprint of the castle, only made of black ink on stained, weathered paper. But what had startled you was… well. At first you'd thought they'd been insects, the small black shapes, swarming over the surface of the paper. But as you looked closer, you saw that they weren't bugs, but tiny little ink dots, and they weren't swarming, but rather… walking? Each dots was labeled with a name, and you realized that they were students, staff, even ghosts. And all of a sudden you realized you were looking at a map of every person in this castle…

And after several long minutes of scanning, you'd come to the conclusion that Severus and Remus weren't on it.

"Fuck," you breathed, finally pushing yourself up to your feet, your legs wobbling beneath you as you leaned your hands against the desk, your eyes still firmly on the parchment. If this… this map was to be trusted (and you could only assume that it could be, as you'd found your own dot in the Defense Against the Dark Arts office), then that meant that Severus and Remus were not in the castle. You supposed it was helpful to know where they weren't, but you absolutely needed to know where they'd gone. And you needed to know now.

Once your legs felt steady enough to support your weight, you left the map and the goblet right where you'd found them as you exited the office. You didn't really have a plan, you just knew you needed to find someone. Someone who could help you look for them. Or maybe even know where they already were. You were trying to find some logical explanation for all of this. That maybe Remus had taken ill, had to go to Saint Mungo's; that Severus had accompanied him, or gone after him. Something, anything, other than what you feared.

As you marched steadfastly out of the classroom, through the halls, down the stairs, you found yourself avoiding the windows once again. Not for fear of Buckbeak's execution, but for fear of finding the moon peeking over the tops of the forest trees. You understood that it didn't particularly matter where Remus was at this moment; if he hadn't taken his potion this evening, he was not going to be in control of this transformation. Whether that was inside of a hospital, or outside on the grounds, he was going to be wild, and dangerous.

And it was going to be your fault.

Swallowing the sick, sour panic rising up your throat, you swept back the sleeve of your robes, staring down at your watch. The minutes were ticking away to moon-rise. Was there even still time to fix this? You knew there would still be a few doses of potion left in the cauldron down in Severus' lab. But would you be able to get it to Remus, or get Remus to it, in time to administer it? This had never been a part of your study; how long could you wait to take the potion before it was rendered ineffective? You'd never had to think about it before. You'd never considered that Remus wouldn't fucking be here-

A shrieking gasp escaped your lungs as you suddenly collided with another solid body while taking a turn around a corner. You'd been staring down at your watch, at the floor, not (out the windows) ahead of you (stupid), and you'd never even seen them coming. Your legs nearly gave out again, the fright and physical shock of running into someone pulling you out of your trance. But a pair of surprisingly strong hands wrapped around your upper arms, holding you fast, and you found yourself staring down into the alarmed face of Argus Filch.

"Professor Goode?" he asked breathlessly, and you wondered if you looked as dreadful as you felt, as he scanned his pale grey eyes over you, as if searching for signs of injury or distress. And you were distressed. You could have cried, you were so happy to see him, to find someone who could actually help you.

"Everythin' alright, Miss?" Argus asked again, earnest and concerned, his scraggly brows pressed together and his whiskered cheeks ruddy as he finally dropped his hold from your arms, once you were steady.

You wanted to cry out that no, everything was not alright, but you tried to maintain some composure. You had to explain the situation, and you had to do so discretely. Glancing about, you were pleased to find the hall abandoned but for yourself, Argus, and Mrs. Norris, who was creeping cautiously towards the pair of you, as she had apparently darted off at the initial commotion of your impact. All the same, you took Argus' elbow, pulling him towards the nearest alcove window. He shuffled along obediently, and once you were tucked into the little niche, you finally leaned in, hand still on his arm.

"You haven't seen Professor Snape, or Professor Lupin, have you?" you whispered, your head dipped low to reach his ear, as he stood a few inches shorter than yourself.

Argus squinted his eyes, eyebrows still knotted together, this time in thought as he searched your blouse for his answer. "Matter of fact, I saw Professor Lupin headed across the grounds, 'round a quarter of an hour ago," he informed you, and you felt your stomach drop out with a sudden lurch. "Figured he was off to see Hagrid, after-" he cut himself off as he raised his eyes to meet yours, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead as his cheeks drained of color. Perhaps he had seen your own face go pale, or perhaps he was swifter than he let on as he connected the dots.

"Oh, Christ," he breathed shakily, and this time it was he who lifted his hand to hold your arm again. "Gwenny?" he asked timidly, using the pet name he'd given you over the past year, but even that brought you no comfort as your breathing turned labored.

"I need to see Dumbledore, straight away," you panted, shaking your head minutely, before turning to leave the alcove. You didn't even know where you were, or which direction the Headmaster's office was in, but it was the only option, now. Remus was here, at Hogwarts. He was here, on the grounds. He was loose. He was going to transform at any minute. And it was all your fault-

"Oi!" Argus hissed, his grip on your arm tightening as he pulled you back into the alcove, and none too gently, either. You stared down at him, your eyes wide. Why was he stopping you? You needed to- "Now, let's not be hasty," he cajoled, sliding both hands to rest on your shoulders, making sure you were looking directly at him as he explained. "The Headmaster is in a meetin' with the Minister a' Magic," he informed you, lifting his a meaningful eyebrow. "Mightn't be wise to… disturb them with school matters at the moment… if you catch my meaning."

You stared down at him numbly, but the understanding was slowly creeping in. Argus was… suggesting… that the Minister could not know about this. And he wasn't wrong, either. Not only would it be your head, but it would be Dumbledore's as well, for hiring Remus in the first place. For hiring you to take care of him, with your practically nonexistent credentials. You'd be shunned by the magical community again. And it could very well be Remus Lupin's life at risk, if this massive oversight were to get out. You… needed to keep this as quiet as possible, you rationalized. You needed to find a way to fix this.

And apparently, Agrus Filch had no intention of letting you do it on your own. The caretaker nodded deliberately as he finally let go of your shoulders, before folding his hands behind his back, like a soldier ready to take orders. "What do you need me to do?" he asked calmly, and whether or not this was the right way of going about this… you could have kissed him, for his loyalty, and for having this much faith in you.

But what were you going to do? You couldn't very well go after Remus now. In fact, you believed (you hoped) that Severus was already doing that, at this very moment. Severus was out there, dealing with the problem, and you were in here

'I'm sure you're aware of the foolishness that some students get up to after hours,' Severus had told you, nearly 10 months ago. 'You need to cast spells that are going to keep other people out.'

Or… in this case…

"The Gryffindor Common room is still being guarded by security trolls, right?" you asked finally, looking up to Argus, who had been waiting patiently for your command. He nodded to the affirmative, answering with a quiet 'Yes, Miss,' and you sighed with relief. That was one house more or less secured. As for the rest... "Good. Then… Argus, would you stand watch at the Ravenclaw tower?" The caretaker nodded again, and you placed a hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention up to your face, where you stared him directly in his pale eyes. "No one… no one can leave this castle tonight, is that clear?"

Argus straightened up to his full height, jutting his chin out with a determined look on his weathered face. "Like crystal," he avowed, and you offered him a wobbly smile as you dropped your hand from him. "Where will you go?" he asked, and you could see worried lines appear around his eyes.

"The Entrance Hall," you answered, dropping your gaze, trying to compile your scattered thoughts into a coherent plan. "I can keep an eye on the dungeons and the basement from the ground floor, watch out for the Hufflepuff's and Slytherin's…" You were nodding slightly at your own idea, about keeping watch, about casting protective charms on the Entrance Hall doors…

…Charms you hadn't been able to cast by yourself over the last ten months. Charms that Severus had been casting in your stead. People's lives were depending on you. Just as they had been all year… But you hadn't had to do it alone before now… Would you be able to? Did you have the strength? The ability?

The magic?

"I'm going to lose my job…" you gasped, suddenly withering under the pressure, one hand reaching out for the window sill beside you as you stumbled sideways against the wall. Your other hand lifted to your throat, instinctively wrapping around the bottle of Phoenix Tears that hung there, and clutching for dear life.

But Argus was on you like a shot, cupping one rough hand over your own against the window sill, while clapping the other to the side of your neck and pushing your chin up with his calloused thumb. You obeyed the pressure, looking up into his resolute gaze with wide eyes. "Your job's to be keeping this school safe from werewolves," he reminded you in a low, steady voice. And even though it wasn't a question, you found yourself nodding mutely in reply. He canted his head, lifting one grey eyebrow. "So, sounds to me like that's exactly what you're aiming to do, innit?"

You swallowed against the lump forming in your tightening throat. You wish you had half as much of the confidence that Argus seemed to have in you. You had grown remarkably close to the old caretaker over the past year, spending many an afternoon in his office, drinking tea, stroking Mrs. Norris, allowing him to vent over whatever frustrations were troubling him, while he allowed you to do similarly, when you felt the need. He'd grown oddly paternal towards you, and his steadfast conviction in your abilities was unbearably… sweet.

You felt tears well in your eyes again, but you knew Argus would not suffer your theatrics, so you squeezed your eyes shut before nodding. He was right. You couldn't be expected to do more than your best in this moment, and by Merlin, you were going to do your best. Argus lifted the hand from your neck, and instead used it to pat your cheek. You pried your eyes open, and you snorted softly as he winked one of his pale eyes.

"There's a good lass," he told you, before finally releasing you. As you both straightened up, he jerked his head in the direction of the Grand Staircase. "Now git," he commanded, and you acquiesced, finally exiting the alcove with him before splitting into opposite directions, both of you seemingly eager to reach your appointed stations.

You were nearing the corner where you'd run into the man in the first place, when Argus suddenly called out, "And take Mrs. Norris with you!" You stopped in your tracks, looking back around to find Argus striding determinedly for the West Tower, his keys jangling on his hip, as Mrs. Norris trotted obediently towards you. You stared down at the dust colored Maine Coon uncomprehendingly, but Argus merely called over his shoulder "She'll know what to do!" as he finally disappeared from view. The cat blinked up at you with her lamp-like yellow eyes, before apparently deciding you were taking entirely too long to get moving, and darting off ahead of you in the direction of the Entrance Hall.

"Well then," you muttered as you finally fell into step behind her. "I'm certainly glad you know what to do, because I sure as hell don't."

The hallways and staircases were blessedly empty as you tailed Mrs. Norris through them, and you were both relieved and thankful for the school wide curfew; not just because it was in place, but because students seemed to actually be abiding by it. Sirius Black had rightfully put the fear of god into them, it seemed, and you were unexpectedly reaping the benefits. As long as they just stayed in their bloody dorms tonight…

As you finally descended the Grand Staircase into the Entrance Hall, Mrs. Norris split away from you, bee-lining it directly to the dungeons. You shook your head in disbelief as her bushy tail disappeared down the gloomy stairwell, supposedly to patrol in front of the Slytherin Common Room. How… would she know to do that? What would she do if someone did try to exit the common room? Supposedly run for Argus… or for you, as the case may be. Argus was always quite adamant in his conviction that Mrs. Norris was just a normal cat, but honestly, you were growing increasingly dubious of this claim.

But apparently… she knew what to do. And supposedly, so did you.

You stood frozen in the empty Entrance Hall for several long moments, the cavernous room echoing with oppressive silence. But as your buzzy brain began to quiet and your ears adjusted, there were hints of noise all around; the soft susurrations of the portraits, the flickering whisper of guttering torches, and the sound of your own breathing. Calm, measured breathing. Counted breaths.

Just this breath

And under this quiet murmur… was a deep, baseline resonance of ancient magic. A familiar hum that you hadn't felt in quite some time. It had disappeared from your periphery once the students had arrived at the beginning of term. But you could feel it again now, thrumming against your awareness, something big and dark and unfathomable, making you feel small…

But also making you feel inexplicably relieved, for the first time in a long time. It was founder's magic. Protective magic. An ancient magic put in place to keep the school safe.

People's lives were depending on you.

"Fuck," you cursed under your breath as you strode across the hall towards the great entrance doors. As far as you were aware, these were the only doors in the castle that lead out to the open grounds. The training grounds were surrounded by a high stone wall, as were the courtyards, gardens and greenhouses. It was only these doors that opened up to the field, to the lake, to the forest. You just needed to make sure that no one left through these doors. That would be enough, wouldn't it?

Oh, please…

Your wand hadn't gotten much use this year, you thought as you retrieved it from the deep pocket of your robe. Muggle Studies didn't call for it often, and you were only using it for basic convenience spells in private. You'd been dabbling in charmed painting and portraiture as well, but that was as adventurous and complex as you'd gotten over the last few months. The only significant use it lent were the diagnostic spells you needed to cast after the full moon…

Maple wands were known for preferring owners who were daring and determined. It was a wanderlust wood, seeking adventure and exploration. Without regular challenge and use, the very wood itself became lifeless and dull, its magic becoming unresponsive and insipid. Your own wand had been like that, for a time. To a point where you didn't even like to look at it any more.

Your wand had always had a natural look to it, like it had been plucked directly from the branch of a maple tree, without much else done after being hollowed out and imbued with unicorn hair. All of its embellishments had been added by yourself as a teenager; you'd wrapped colorful ribbons around the handle, several of them dangling with beads and charms. Surprisingly, these ribbons never seem to catch or fade, nor did the charms ever detach or break, even after all these years. Your wand had been happy with these additions. But when you'd attempted to carve little pictures and symbols into it, you quickly discovered that wands didn't like that very much, as all of your scratching had disappeared almost instantly. Your wand felt so much more like a living creature than an instrument or tool.

And as you held it now in your hands, you could feel its impatience to perform thrumming against your fingers. Even if you were unsure if you could do this… your wand was certainly eager to try.

"Start small," you murmured, finally gripping the wand handle decisively. You passed the palm of your left hand over the length of wood, before adjusting your stance in front of the towering entrance doors. Aiming the tip of your wand at the key hole, you twitched it in a sharp, geometric pattern as you intoned "Colloportus," and breathed a sigh of relief as you heard the latches and bolts within the door fall into place. That was easy enough. It also had the world's easiest counter-spell, so you needed to get more creative than that.

Now aiming your wand towards the edges where the doors met the frame at the jamb, you took a deep breath, holding it for a moment, before murmuring, "Porta Sigillum." You released the breath with a great whoosh when… nothing happened. Grip tightening on your wand, you squeezed your eyes shut for a moment. You had never successfully attempted the room-sealing spell before. You knew Severus tossed this particular charm around quite regularly in his own office and lab, but you'd never managed it on your own. You opened your eyes, slackening your hold on your wand just slightly. Take it easy… there was no use trying to force it. Just… try something else, for now. The two spells you had used in Albania had always come to you naturally enough. Colloportus was more or less child's play, but if you could at least pull off a Protego charm…

"Yeah. Okay," you whispered, taking a few steps back from the doors to get a better view of them. A barrier spell would be… fine. It would keep the doors protected, if anyone tried to brute-force their way out (or in). In the back of your head, you knew that Severus was still out there, and if he needed to get back in

I'll be here.

"Protego Totalum." You held your wand up straight, drawing the tip of it from left to right, the palm of your left hand held up towards the door. And there was an immediate wash of relief, as you felt the steady ripple of a barrier forming between the door and yourself. It could have been a little firmer, you thought, the layer of magic giving a little when you pressed against it. Severus' had always felt like steel, while yours felt more like rubber. But it would hold. It was strong enough. And it was better than nothing.

Turning your back on the doors, you surveyed the Entrance Hall. You had every intention of sitting beside the main doors until the sun came up, but you figured it was better to be safe, than sorry. Walking towards the Grand Staircase, you bent over, placing the tip of your wand against the bottom step, and dragging it over the stone. "Intrusus Vigile," you invoked, thrilled by the pale yellow line left in your wands path. You drew this line all the way across the bottom stair, before straightening up again, watching the bright glow dissipate into a barely visible mark. You swallowed, knowing there was only one way to test it, and screwed your eyes shut in anticipation as you climbed the single step. A sudden, ear-piercing whoop like a London police siren sounded through the Entrance Hall, and you quickly leapt back down off of the stair, glancing around frantically to see if it had alerted anyone else. But no doors were cracking open down the corridor, no footsteps were clattering through the halls. There were only a few disgruntled looking portraits glaring at you from their frames, so you figured you were safe, and drew a similar line across the entrance to the dungeons as well.

But it didn't feel like enough.

You approached the entrance doors once again, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as you gazed up at them. Only having two spells cast upon the doors felt… incomplete. Inadequate. Before you had even known you were a witch, your mother had impressed upon you that the number three was an incredibly powerful number, especially in magic. Past, present, and future. Birth, life, and death. Beginning, middle, and end. There was a belief that any energy put out into the world, whether positive or negative, would be returned back to you, threefold. So only two spells on this door did not feel right, and you found yourself lifting your wand one more time, aiming it at the seams.

Breathe in…

This needed to work, you reminded yourself. The integrity of this school, of Albus Dumbledore, of your own reputation, was at stake. The lives of staff and children were equally at risk. You closed your eyes a moment, and you fixated your attention on that undercurrent of ancient magic that had caught your attention from the moment you'd returned to this castle. And you found that it was thrumming in tandem against your own. Because people were depending on you, and you had been charged with the task of keeping this school safe. That made your intention align with that of the Founders, and you felt a sudden swell of determination.

…and out.

"Porta Sigillum!" you chanted, and you felt immediately that there was considerably more power behind it, this time. You couldn't suppress a gasp as purple, white and gold sparks erupted from your wand and flew towards the doors, because you hadn't actually been sure what to expect from properly casting this spell. You watched, enraptured, as the purple glimmers seemed to attach themselves to everything metal, from rivets and hinges to latch and lock. The golden glints sank into the wood itself, filling seams and gaps in the battens and ledges with glittering light. And the white flickers settled into the space between the door and the jamb, effectively sealing it shut. Your magic shone brightly as it permeated every potential gap of empty space, and once it had found its place, it dimmed down into a solid, invisible ward. And you realized that your heart was beating rapidly as a result. Your arms dropped limply to your side, and you swallowed thickly against the unbidden tears that sprang to your eyes.

You are an exceptional witch.

The doors were firmly locked and secure. The points of entry into the hall were effectively alarmed. No one was going through these doors without you knowing about it, and that was the best you could hope for, for now. Night was already blackening the large, circular window that loomed over the Entrance Hall. The sun had set, and the moon would soon be rising. You took a deep, shuddering breath, and rubbed your free hand against your ashen face as you shuffled towards the door. Taking your place beside it, you crumpled to the floor, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt stave off the shivers that returned from your angst. You were in for a long night, you wagered. And there was nothing left to do but wait for the sun, and for Severus, to return.