Hello lovelies! Sorry for the delay, but here is Chapter 20!

"Something valuable."

Blood dripped freely from Snape's ears and nose. He attempted to rise from where he had landed on the hospital room floor, face torn by his own fingernails.

"Why did you do it?"

Severus smeared the blood from his nose, reaching for his wand.

"Tell me why you did it, or I'm leaving."

"Do not give me ultimatums, Charlotte. Do not attempt to fool me with the belief that whatever I tell you will change your mind. You're already packed," he snarled.

Charlotte watched him heal the cuts to his face, his mouth moving with silent incantations. The blood still dripped from his nose, spotting the tiled floor with crimson. He seemed so much smaller now than he had just days before. Severus had always been a head taller than her, towering over her in their studies, peering together into her pensieve. Suddenly, he seemed twelve inches tall.

"Why would you do that to me? We were – I thought we had been friends."

Severus snorted, "I never had any friends."

"I was your friend," her voice was trembling, "All that last year, we wrote back and forth. I told you – I told you everything."

She felt nauseous, her knees smacked together painfully.

How many secrets had she poured into parchment for him? She couldn't count them. Charlotte couldn't recall feeling more alone than she had in her final year at Hogwarts. Severus, who had hated Sirius for as long as she could remember, had been a welcome ally. He had not judged her for her choices. He had never called her foolish or selfish.

But he had taken all those secrets and marched them straight to the Dark Lord.

Severus had known, of course, that Walburga Black held all of Charlotte's money. Every galleon made from the liquidation of her parents' assets had sat in the Black vault in Gringott's. It had been Walburga's bargaining chip, when the cards fell with Sirius.

Charlotte would marry Regulus and get her money.

Severus had known that there was no romantic love between her and the younger Black brother. They had been as siblings, growing up together. In their townhome in London, they had not even shared a bedroom. It had worked well for each of them; Regulus had been afforded the freedom of being out of his mother's house, and Charlotte had finally gained some – albeit limited – independence.

He took every carefully whispered sliver and deposited each of them into the Dark Lord's palm.

"But you said," and she froze.

Because no matter how often the wizard had whispered those words in the dark, he had certainly never said them to her.

They had been mumbled over her head as she slept in the Leaky Cauldron's inn, screamed in his mind as she lay dying on the floor of Malfoy Manor.

I love you.

Severus stared up at her, and she took note of the cool mask he had affixed in place.

He would never tell her.

Not now.

There had always been a cord between them. A thick one, made of steel, that connected them through the years. He had been one of Reg's closest friends in Hogwarts. He had been her tutor. In her final year at Hogwarts, she had felt as though he had become one of her best friends. She had told him things that she had not dared to say to anyone. The cord now hung between them, limp and tattered from her invasion of his mind, from the war, the obscurus.

"I love Lily," he corrected her.

It snapped.

"You asked me why I did it? For her. You and I becoming friends was never an intention of mine. You ignored me all those years to hang off every one of Black's words. I wanted you because it seemed fitting. I sacrificed you for Evans, and she died anyway. Dumbledore demanded I take responsibility. Our marriage is a promise made to Dumbledore to atone for my many sins," the dark-haired wizard snarled at her, "Did I have feelings for you? I did, you ignorant, selfish woman! You trampled on them for years and expected me to, what, not sacrifice the only woman who ever gave a fuck about me?"

"Lily Potter never gave a fuck about you."

Severus blinked, the color at his cheeks beginning to fade from his shouts.

"Lily Potter left you, in the corridor, all night to cry outside the Fat Lady's portrait because you called her a mudblood," Charlotte heard the words leave her mouth, but she could not longer stop herself, "She married James, who tormented you. She witnessed them torture you, and attempt to kill you, and did nothing. Lily Potter never gave a fuck about you, Severus. If you're still unable to see that, then I'm certainly not going to bother enlightening you further."

Charlotte stared down at him, her eyes burning.

"You let them do that to me. You watched me do it and saw what it did to me," she whispered, "Everything that my life should have been – could have been – wasn't. It was all because of you; all so you could save Lily Potter because you were stupid enough to join that war in the first place."

"Did you do nothing in your youth that you're ashamed of?"

"I didn't sell my friends!"

"Wilhemina Wilkes?"

Charlotte's mouth snapped closed, her eyes widening, "I did not-!"

Snape stood and towered over her, his face morphing to a hateful sneer. She wondered if she had ever seen him look at her in such a way. His shoulders shook as he reached up to smear the blood dripping from his nose.

"Tell me what you would have done in my place. What would you have done, if it had been your precious Black that he had demanded? Your life was never in any danger, I made you useful! I didn't exchange anything! I saved your life, just as I had done before!"

Useful.

The word hung between their panted, angry breaths.

"Dumbledore wants to use me if he comes back."

"I have already told Albus that I will not allow-!"

"You've already made promises to Dumbledore, Severus."

His lips parted and closed in a firm, tightened line.

I love you.

I have something that could be of value to the Dark Lord.

Promise me, Severus.

"Do you think he truly cares what you'll allow if he comes back?"

"The Dark Lord will want to use your obscurus. I intend to rid you of it before that time comes."

"Then what will be left between us?"

Severus's eyes narrowed, "Plenty."

"Nothing."

"You know how I feel now," he said, his voice quiet thunder.

"I know that you were willing to let me become this so you could save her."

If you spare her, my lord, I-I will train Charlotte. I will make her more valuable to you.

"If he had asked me for Sirius, I never could have done this to you," she whispered, her hands fisting painfully at her sides, "I would never have done this to you."

Charlotte stared up at the dark-haired wizard with pitch eyes and broad shoulders.

"I used to think the world of you," she said softly.

Quickly, he turned and left the room. She watched his hand rip the door open, and watched his shoulders grow smaller as he walked further from her. Her breath felt tight in her lungs, her fingers trembled.

I love you.

"I loved you, too."

When Charlotte returned to Spinner's End several days later, the house was empty. Louisa stood alongside her and as they opened the door to their shared bedroom, the blonde seized her hand and squeezed it tightly.

St. Mungo's had discharged her without much fuss. She had gained a healthy amount of weight and was showing signs of improvement. The bandages on her legs would have to stay a few days more, and would likely scar, but she had been given an otherwise clean bill of health.

Louisa hadn't argued with her when she asked for the witch's help to pack her things. She had asked Charlotte if she was certain and requested no further explanation. The day Charlotte was discharged, she had declined Louisa's offer to let her stay with her.

For the first time, Charlotte had thought, she wanted to be alone.

She didn't have many things at Spinner's End. Aside from the dresser, Charlotte had no other furniture in the house. They had made quick work of her clothing and books. Staring at the spelled trunk Louisa had brought along to carry her things, Charlotte wondered how her life had ended up amounting to two bags of clothing, a single chest of drawers, and several dozen smutty romance novels.

"Don't look too hard at it," Louisa whispered to her, quickly closing it, "We'll get you some new things."

Charlotte made a noncommittal noise, staring at the crisply made bed she had shared with Severus. Her breath caught as she recalled their first night together, as his arms enveloped and tightened around her.

She couldn't remember a time she had felt safer.

Now, it all seemed tainted – like coffee spreading on parchment. There was a darkness to every moment of it now. Every memory was poisoned.

"Let's go," Lou grabbed her hand, and Charlotte looked at her with blurred eyes, "We need to go."

"What did I do wrong, Lou?"

The blonde paused, securing the trunk's buckles.

"I've been married twice," her voice cracked, "I'm twenty-three years old and I've been married twice and somehow, I'm still going to be alone."

"You aren't alone," Louisa replied firmly, "You have me."

Quickly, the taller witch straightened herself and grabbed Charlotte's hand, "We're leaving."

They descended the stairs silently, passing through the scorched remains of the living room, and Charlotte's eye latched on the cracked teapot sitting on the corner, steam still spilling from its spout.

"Don't look back."

Louisa's hand tightened around hers and pulled her through the doorway.

I loved you, too.

Charlotte wondered if he was in the basement, stowed away to listen to their quick packing. She wondered if he had stood by the door, waiting with stilled breaths for them to leave.

He had not returned to St. Mungo's and Charlotte had been grateful for it. It had been Remus to tell her that Severus had returned to Hogwarts and advised the Order that Charlotte was leaving. He had been the one to use the word 'divorce'.

Twenty-three years old. Widowed and divorced.

It seemed like the beginning to one of her romance novels.

The blanket of security she had wrapped herself with being married to Snape was now gone. In the pureblooded world, she was used goods. She doubted she would ever be married again, and with that, her hopes of having a family – the kind she wanted – were gone. No mother like Walburga Black would allow their pureblooded son to marry a woman who had been married twice and produced no children. Especially not one who was branded a Death Eater.

As Charlotte lay between the sheets of her bed in the Leaky Cauldron's inn, she stared at the faded mark.

Three years ago, it had shifted and twirled around her arm like a living creature. It had grown hot and cold, summoned and banished.

Now, it looked no different than the tattoo Sirius had gotten in London muggle shop after running away. It lay dead on her arm, somehow just as sinister as the day he had branded it onto her arm.

It had been the highest honor bestowed to Death Eaters. The others had been left with their cheap green tokens. Charlotte had been a Death Eater for over a year before the Dark Lord had branded her part of his inner circle.

Now, it left her caught between the two worlds.

The one controlled by purebloods, where she was used and useless – tainted now, by the Dark Lord's failure to uphold his promises. Their numbers culled to rot in Azkaban.

The other, controlled by Dumbledore; Dumbledore, who wanted to use her should the Dark Lord ever return. It had been the only reason the rest of them had accepted her under the guise of protection and safety.

Charlotte rolled between the sheets, pressing her nose against the pillows which still reeked of mothballs and lye soap. She felt at the corners of her mind the for the smoke, stretching to search every crevice as her eyes closed. For perhaps an hour, she looked for it before letting out an exasperated growl and reaching for her wand.

"Accio paperweight," she called.

From the charmed trunk it appeared, spinning through the air as she quickly reached to catch it.

There was no elation as she stared at the gold-flecked serpent suspended in glass. There was no joy or relief. Rather, a sense of dread settled between her shoulders as she caught the jeweled eyes with her own.

Severus had been right.

If you perform the magic which began this, I believe we can cure you.

In the days after her possession, she had been distraught. No black smoke had spilled from her nostrils, no lamps had exploded in her hospital room. In almost an eerie fashion, all was quiet between her ears where the ringing had once filled them at deafening levels. There had been nothing, but the typical symptoms associated with any time she possessed someone.

If she weren't an obscurial – if the obscurus was gone – what benefit was she to anyone?

I rewrote this chapter five times and I hope I did the reaction justice.

Is her obscurus gone?

House Cup will be updated sometime this weekend.

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