WARNING: Mentions of suicidal thoughts

I really didn't want to leave ya'll hanging on the horrible last chapter. :( And if you didn't know, the chapter should tell you, THIS IS A SWEET, LOVELY, MUSHY CHAPTER. So I hope you and Penny all forgive me! It was so nice to write so i really hope you like it. ❤️

Sorry to my lovely readers I havent replied to, I promise to do that tomorrow. xxx

Her flowers crushed beside her, making her nose itch, Penny flicked open the pocket knife in her hand, her finger sliding along the length of the blade. After informing Penny he very much approved of her change in prospects and surname, Draco had left her, taking a moment to advise her to keep this present from Yaxley's prying eyes. So she'd shoved it into her flowers and opened it in the confines of her cupboard, finding the peculiar pocket knife within.

Draco hadn't told her what the item was or how to use it, and several of the attachments were quite peculiar to her, but that mattered little, because when she'd popped it open and her tired eyes had caught the sheen of the blade, something in her changed—purpose replaced her helplessness. The need for vengeance consumed Penny's heart, and she began imagining what it would feel like to push the blade through the skin on Yaxley's neck, to hear his yells, see his fear. She would need to choose her moment carefully, but there was no doubt, no inkling of reservation in her heart—she would not hesitate.

She wasn't sure if that should worry her or if it was a good sign. Wasn't it natural, this hatred? This loathing, this need to make him pay? After all he'd put her through, what he would continue to do, was it not instinct, and self preservation, her desire to resist him, make him pay? If she just rolled over, let him do as he pleased, knowing full well he would never be judged for his crimes by the powers at be, was that not giving up on herself? What Penny had endured, what she was subjected to, none of it fell into the parameters of what any average person had or would ever experience, so why should she judge herself by a moral compass that had never respected her? If stabbing Yaxley made Penny irredeemable, then so be it, it was better than the alternative.

Though Penny was glad that the holiday seemed to have emptied the Department of Mysteries so her usual torture session did not happen and she was left alone in the solitude of her cupboard with just Fleamont for company, Penny found the lack of her routine torture left her brain too much time to wander. She'd slept as much as she could, but it was hard in the cramped space which forced her into a snug sitting position where she could not so much as stretch her legs all the way.

Having grown up with the Dursleys, Penny was accustomed to being locked up for weeks at a time and denied meals in the cupboard under the stairs she was forced to share with Harry for the first 11 years of her life. But at least at the Dursley's she had Harry who kept her sane. Recalling how they would make up stories and dream of one day escaping the Dursley's filled Penny with a heavy sadness.

They'd escaped, hadn't they? Dreams came true for them, and Hagrid brought them that letter that changed everything. Learning about Hogwrats, it was a turning point, the moment when Penny learned she could love life. So how was it that life had been so cruel that she would be stuck in this closet? The wizarding world was supposed to be different, her safe place—that was what her naivety would have her believe. In reality, Penny was as unimportant in the wizarding world as she had been in the muggle, it did not matter to anyone she was trapped in here, starving, maimed, unshowered.

While she longed for the day the cupboard would open and she could escape it and find her twin, lay in his lap and find refuge in his mind, Penny knew that she would never find peace again. Thoughts of Tommy and Nina, trapped in that cage, in those bodies, it plagued her, slowly ate away at her sanity as she cursed the blood that coursed through her veins.

How many more innocent people would be brutalized because of the evil laying dormant within her? Wouldn't it be better if she hadn't existed? If she just plunged the knife Draco gave her into her wrists, she could spare so many people from suffering, and she could even end her own pain.

She wondered briefly if Cedric would be waiting for her, but then the most vivid image returned to her: that large door and a drumming in the deep. The memory sent a chill up her spine. Death was too much of a question mark, and Penny liked living, albeit moreso when Yaxley hadn't been a part of her life.

Shutting the knife and pocketing it, paranoid she might be tempting death, she reached to tickle Fleamont's ears but he was on his feet, staring at the door. Loud steps clicked down the hall just outside, Penny's heart speeding up involuntarily like it always did. Her body had been trained to expect pain, every muscle in her body tensing, and breathing becoming more shallow, as though if she just didn't make a sound they would walk right by her. The steps slowed, Fleamont disappearing.

Click, click, click.

"I assure you, I will bring her to you, visitors aren't allowed back here."

"I'm more than confident in your capabilities, but considering how enthusiastically everyone has denied her even being here, you'll forgive my reluctance. But, alas, we have arrived have we not."

"It says she here she's in room 205, that's just an old—"

The lock clicked above Penny and the door opened, the light so harsh against her eyes it made them water. She rubbed them, blinking furiously, finding the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore looking down at her.

Just behind him was a woman with short back hair, her mouth hanging open in shock. Dumbledore reached out his hand and helped Penny to her feet with more strength than she expected from him, an ordeal that made her cheeks burn in embarrassment. The cramped quarters caused her to painfully lose circulation to her legs, making standing up arduous until the blood returned. A hand tucked under her armpit, he allowed Penny to perch herself against him while she shook out her legs.

"Merlin's beard, what did they do to you?" the woman said, her eyes scanning the mess Penny knew she was. "How long have you been in there?I swear if I knew—"

Penny tried to search for her voice, to find some answer, but words were lost to her, shock being the only thing her body felt capable of. She could not believe it, they could not be real. If this were a dream and she woke in a moment tied to that cursed chair, Penny did not think she would be able to muster the resolve to go on.

"You have been a marvelous help, Ms. Burton, and while I'm sure Ms. Potter here is very grateful, I think she is more than ready to take her leave." Dumbledore said pleasantly.

"R-right, this way," the woman said, shaking herself free from the sight that was Penny, pointing toward their exit..

"I know the way out," Dumbledore smiled, the woman taking the hint and leaving them to it.

It was at this moment that Penny became aware of a third person, standing a-ways off, her arms crossed, looking distinctly irritated.

"Aunt Petunia?" Penny said, weakly.

She turned her horse-face toward Penny, her bulging eyes finally looking upon her niece, her features becoming more severe as she registered her condition.

"What kind of establishment—" she began indignantly, but then seemed to realize who she was feeling indignant for and gave a little sniffle and returned to looking extremely inconvenienced.

"My apologies, we would have arrived sooner, but it took me more time than expected to locate your Aunt and Uncle. They were having a lovely holiday in Bora Bora, it turns out. And then of course, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were naturally reluctant to be separated on the holiday, but Petunia was persuaded by that cousin of yours, I believe Dudley is his name; swore he wouldn't eat for a week if they didn't come get you out," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling in that mysterious way of his.

"But why did you bring her?" Penny asked, her voice barely audible.

"Ah, well, Mr. Yaxley and Professor Umbridge were able to keep you under the pretense that only a parent could sign you out, very much forgetting as your guardians, your Aunt and Uncle retain those privileges."

"Thank you," Penny said to her aunt, her heart twinging with an odd feeling towards Dudley, was it gratitude? She found it hard to believe he would do that for her, but Penny did not imagine Dumbledore would lie and was certain nothing else could have persuaded Petunia to leave her Dudders on a holiday.

Glancing sideways at Penny, Petunia inclined her head ever-so-slightly, before snapping stiffly back into place.

"Come now, Penny. I promised your Aunt I would return her before the day's end, and daresay you would prefer to spend the rest of your Christmas elsewhere," Dumbledore said, guiding Penny and Petunia out while he hummed the tune of 'Jingle Bells.'

Penny's mind reeled as she walked, her brain trying to accept the fact this was real, Dumbledore was real, she was leaving this place. Her heart twinged with guilt as she thought of Nina and Tommy, still trapped in the dark, but she jammed her eyes shut, trying to force them out of her mind.

Their feet echoing through the halls Penny hated and wanted nothing more than to see burn to the ground, she watched as loathsome door after loathsome door moved past them, Penny hoping never to see them again. They met no one else, and when Dumbledore pushed open the door and the chill hit Penny's face, she gasped.

Letting go of Dumbledore, Penny stepped forward, turning her face toward the sky. It must have been around dusk, the light ebbing below the horizon, a small sliver lingering just long enough to make the snow falling quietly glitter like the stars she could not see through the cloud cover.

Extending her hand, palm up, Penny watched the tiny flakes float softly onto her hand and quickly melt from the warmth of it, though Penny, in her skirt and t-shirt were shivering. Entranced, Penny marveled at the way they tickled her skin, closing her eyes and letting herself remember what a sensation other than pain felt like. It had been so long, Penny had almost forgotten it was possible to enjoy when something touched her; it was not always loathsome.

"You!" came Petunia's sharp tones.

"Ah, Severus, Penny will be in good hands from here on out. I'll leave you two to it, Sirius will be expecting her. Oh, I almost forgot, Happy Christmas, Miss Potter," said Dumbledore in that kind voice of his.

"You aren't leaving her with him!" Petunia continued, but Penny wasn't paying attention.

At the utterance of Snape's name, her eye's had snapped open, her heart rate speeding up exponentially. She dared not look, but from the corner of her eye, Dumbledore and her aunt disappeared with a loud crack that made Penny jump embarrassingly. In their place stood a large, dark figure who still had yet to say anything.

They both stood in silence, Penny watching her breath rise like the steam from the train in her favorite childhood book, The Little Engine that Could. If only life were as simple as children's books and repeating "I think I can I think I can" were enough to give Penny the courage she needed to look at the man. But she was afraid of him, no. There was no anger in her heart for what he had carved into her chest. Rather, Penny was terribly afraid that her mental state had conjured him because it was broken beyond repair, and that if she turned, she would only endure the agony of watching him disappear again. It was comfort Penny was afraid of because she had only survived it all by pretending it was not real, that life only had pain to offer her. The memories of the kind of feelings Snape brought out in her, they disturbed the delicate balance, and that balance was the only thing that had kept her alive.

The snow crunched beneath his feet as he stepped toward her, his reaching arm sending her own instinctively up to protect her face. She cowered for a half-second before a hand took a gentle hold of her wrist and guided her hands down. Breath catching in her chest, Penny tried and failed to shut herself off from the flood of sensations surging from his hand straight into her. He released her, reached again, pausing so as not to frighten her, then pushed her hair off her shoulder so he could access the collar around her neck.

He fiddled with it for a bit and then the wretched thing popped open and he slid it off her neck. Penny let out a quiet sob of relief, reaching for her neck. She could feel where her skin was indented and screamed in pain at her touch. She was free, actually free.

Still not able to turn and look at him, she watched his hand hold onto the collar a moment and then he dropped it at her feet where it burst into blue flames crackled around it, quickly melting it into a pile, a single fat tear of Penny's joining its pile.

When the flames died out, leaving a pile of soot in its place, Snape's hands moved again, he pulled a scarf from his neck and wrapped it around Penny, who suddenly noticed she'd been shaking violently from the cold. It was at this moment, when the smell of bergamot wafted over her, she turned, startling him into pausing. His hands halfway through tying a knot, dark eyes flickered upward, magnetized to the green ones.

The last of the day's light falling below the horizon sent the orange street light above him flickering on. In the slow progress to his face, Penny's eyes trailed over his form, his normal billowing black robes were noticeably missing. In their place he was wearing a pair of black slacks, a long trench coat splayed open to reveal a loose gray sweater. It was so unlike him that Penny half expected to find someone else looking back at her, and for a moment, when she did not find the dark curtain of hair, she almost stepped away, afraid. But she quickly found that his hair was tied back in a relaxed bun, accentuating his jawline. The effect might have been intimidating if she had not been distracted by how much thinner his face appeared, his skin more sallow, and what little color he once had, all but drained away, except for his under eyes, which were so dark they might have been confused for a bruise.

Eyes trailing, Penny found the remnants of an actual bruise on his left cheek. It was greenish in color and seemed to be fading, but was large and looked like it had been painful at one point. The sight of it made Penny's heart pang, had she been the cause of it? Had he slept at all since the last time she saw him? What had he endured to produce such a change in him? These thoughts raged through her head until green locking onto black brought them to a grinding halt.

Reflected back at her were his own thoughts, his eyes trailing all the marks Yaxley had left behind, finding the lingering trepidation an untold amount of torture inevitably left behind, making her feel exposed, laid bare. Sinking deeply into the lines on his face was the agonizing guilt her physical appearance brought him. The black wells of despair told Penny he had wanted nothing else than to look upon her face, that his lost sleep had been spent trying to remember every freckle of her cheek and crinkle in her nose, but though it had been all he longed for, he could not hide how much he wished it was not her he was looking upon, that her return did not bring the relief from pain he wished for, but rather a whole new wave of agony.

His hot breath hit her face as his brow furrowed, the stale smell of cigarettes and booze too prominent not to notice. It was a detail that felt too intimate, like she was violating his privacy by noticing it. Severus Snape, who was forever composed, who she never saw waiver once before the Dark Lord, stood before her, unable to hide how undone he'd become. This truth made Penny want to run away, but at the same time she was terrified that he would disappear again, leaving her in a strange nowhere land, so she broke eye contact, looking down at their feet, not knowing what she was supposed to say or do.

Hands slipping from the scarf, he stood, Penny too keenly aware of how close they stood, toes pressed against each other's, Snape's body heat emanating from him and finding its way to her, a welcome change to the cold. His breathing tickling her ear, he made to take a step back, apparently also suddenly aware of their proximity, but the unreasonable fear inside of her, the one that was sure he would get blown away with the wind, moved her hand without her consent.

Her fingers clutched onto his sweater for dear life, pulling him back toward her. He obliged her, his questioning look hanging in the air around them even though she couldn't see it.

"I-I. . .don't leave me behind this time," Penny said in a quivering voice, feeling like an utter idiot.

In a very Snape-like manner his thin, cold hand pried Penny's from his shirt, like he had done so many times before when he'd used his strength to force distance between them. But this time, when her fingers came free of his shirt, he did not let them go. Instead, he wrapped his own hand over it, squeezing it ever-so-slightly and surprising Penny. Breath caught in her chest, Penny looked up just as he turned on his heel, his dark eyes watching her from the corner of his eye as he did so, as though to ensure he did not lose her along the way, and with a pop, the Ministry of magic was gone and in its place was 12 Grimmauld.

His hand still holding hers, he led her across the street, Penny following, dazed, behind him, staring at their intertwined hands in utter confusion. It was nice, lovely even, but it didn't bring Penny the comfort she thought it might. The feeling of his hand, it unnerved her, the emotions they shared intermingled and overwhelmed Penny. She wanted to pull free in order to escape the onslaught she felt in her heart, but at the same time, her contradictory heart also never wanted to let go.

When the door opened, Snape stepped over the threshold and a thunderous influx of noise ensued, voices calling her name, people reaching for her, all demanding her attention, or gasping at her appearance. All of it combined disoriented her, making her want to yell at them, to get as far away as she could. Even though she tried to tell herself she was home, she could not stop their faces from bleeding together so Penny did not know who was, all of them quickly transforming into Yaxley—blue eyes crinkling in mocking laughter, reaching for her, asking her if she was ready for round two.

Yelling in fear, Penny ripped her hand free, backing away from them until her back hit the door. Clutching her head, she slid along the wall to the floor, her eyes closed tight, muttering "I'm free, it's not him, he isn't here, it's not him."

The noise escalated to an unbearable level, Penny's ears protesting angrily. People were moving, someone was above her, Penny thrashing, kicking, biting, anything to get free. But they ignored her, moving her with ease. Into the dark they went, whoever was holding Penny, shutting the door before setting her down onto something soft.

Clawing her way to the edge of the sofa, Penny took in great gulps of air, eyes darting from side to side, trying to help her brain work out where she was. Of course it had all been a lie, she'd never escape, never be free of him. Pulling her legs into her chest, Penny pressed her face into her knees and cried.

Someone was speaking to her, trying to reach for her with his ever-so-familiar hand, but Penny flung away from him with a strangled cry. "Don't come near me, just leave me alone! Please, just leave me alone!" Penny begged, clinging to her own shaking body, trying her best to keep it from falling apart.

Whoever was with her said something else, but they did not touch her again, though she felt the seat beside her sink a little, suggesting he'd taken up residence beside her. Penny pressed herself a little further against the arm of the cushion, but otherwise was content with the agreement between her and her visitor.

Lost in her thoughts and working tirelessly to fight off the tidal wave of memories of Nina that kept intruding, Penny did not know how much time passed, nor did she notice when someone else joined them, warm tones speaking with the lower ones.

"Penny," they said, and based on the change of air around her, Penny knew someone had knelt down before her. In response she recoiled a little further into herself.

"Penny, listen to my voice, you know my voice, you can trust this voice."

A stirring in Penny's heart made her muttering stop, so he continued.

"I promise not to touch you, not if you don't want me to. I won't let anyone touch you or come in here or make you do anything, alright? I'll stay right here and make sure of it. You can sit there for as long as you need, but I want you to know that you're safe here, can you believe me?"

His voice was like music to Penny's ears, it was the same one that called to her in her dreams—the only place Yaxley couldn't find her. She knew that voice, wanted to reach for it, grab onto it and never let it go. Like a bucket of ice water, he doused her, freeing her from herself. Eyes snapping open, she found him there, kneeling before her, purposefully allowing her the space she needed, but sitting close enough she could reach out and touch too looked different. He was tired, unshaven, and his hair longer than she remembered it. But his brown eyes, his beautiful brown eyes remained the same. They shone with the love she always found in them whenever he turned to look at her. There was no pain, pity, regret, just an inexpressible, unbridled joy, his eyes moving from her hair to cheeks to ears, soaking in each feature as though it were the dearest thing to him.

Her own brimming with tears she said, "Are you real? Because if you aren't—I'm not strong enough—I can't—not again."

"I know I look a little rough for the wear, but it's me. Look, if you want proof give me your hand," he said, his mouth turning up in a small smile as he laid his palm open for her.

Hesitantly, Penny laid her hand in his, watching him like a nervous mouse ready to dart at the first sign of danger. In a deliberately slow motion, he drew her hand toward his chest and pressed it there right above his heart. Heat pressed her hand, reminding her of a sauna, the heart beneath hammering with such ferocity that Penny felt her own beat a little harder as though his strength passed to her.

"You see? No one, not even that clever mind of yours could fake a heart that loves you this fiercely."

Her world tipping two degrees to the right as his words poured into her, filling her every vein with comfort, Penny dove forward, knocking him over backwards, pressing her face into his chest; just wanting to be near him, to make him a part of her. A hug, it did not feel like enough, so she squeezed him, trying to meld into him, his soft mouth pressing against the side of her head as his own hands weaved their way around her waist, squeezing with the strength Penny didn't have, crushing her.

"Through it all—this was all I could think of, all that kept me going," she cried into his chest. "I just needed to see you, to beg you to forgive me."

The floor creaked, Penny remembering someone else was in the room. Lupin sat up taking her with him, Penny glancing over his shoulder, discovering it was Snape's form that was leaving, reaching for his hand, turning the knob and intending to exit.

"Wait!" Penny said, the panic in her chest sending a burst of expression from her and causing the door to slam shut.

He turned, his face shrouded in darkness so Penny could not read it. She floundered for a moment, still caught in Lupin's lap, Lupin clearly wanting to respond to her, but he waited, just like Snape.

"Don't go, not again. I-I—stay. . .please," Penny said, feeling slightly breathless from the magic she'd just performed.

"It is Christmas," Lupin added when Snape neither moved nor responded.

Penny could feel the sneer on Snape's face, but he moved back to the couch, removed his jacket, folded it up and laid it over the side. Then he sat down, conjuring a small candle and a book. Legs crossed he opened it, began reading in an attempt to ignore the two of them, Penny watching him just long enough for him to glance sideways at her from the side of his eyes

She suspected he held her gaze longer than even he expected, the irritation in his features slowly ebbing away, to be replaced with something that reminded Penny of a young Harry. Whenever Penny had been more clever than Harry and managed to win or barter something from Dudley, Harry had always become consumed with something Penny had dubbed the green-eyed monster. His jealousy was always hilariously evident on his face and in his voice. Looking at her Potions Master, Penny couldn't help but wonder what would elicit such a feeling in him, but Lupin pulled her back to him, freeing his legs from beneath himself so she could fit in his lap better and he could see her.

Both thumbs moving to her face, he wiped her tears and said, "How could you possibly come to the conclusion that you need my forgiveness after all this, Penny? If anything, I should be apologizing to you. No one ever should have been allowed to do this to you."

"No, you don't understand," Penny said, grabbing his hand in hers. "You don't know what I did—what will happen because of me."

"You're right, I don't know, Penny. But I'm listening, I promise to hear anything you need to share. But do so without any fear in your heart," he said softly, his brow furrowing as he tried to get her to look at him, because she'd looked down at her lap as she set the words free.

Penny nodded her head, taking a deep breath to try to get a handle on the emotions bubbling in her chest, making it hard for her to construct a single sentence without unleashing a flood.

"I-I just, I love you so much, you know that don't you? That I'm your biggest fan and that I think you deserve every happiness there is because there is no better person in the world, no one else who has been as kind; who has been as gentle; who has loved me as you do. I just wish I knew how to make you as happy as you make me."

He blinked several times, his mouth opening, but apparently she'd left him uncharacteristically speechless. Penny waited, almost afraid of the answer that was to follow. But she quickly regretted such doubt, because Lupin leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers, brown eyes locking onto green, several quiet tears sliding down his face and he said, "I must be a miserable excuse of a man if you do not already know how completely and perfectly and incandescently happy you make me, Penny," he whispered.

Closing her eyes, Penny let his words swim over her, wanting nothing more than to forget everything, to just lay in Lupin's arms and forget the ministry and never speak those vile words, the awful truth that lingered in her heart. But she knew the only way forward was to trust Lupin and to share those things that left her at a loss and tried to pull her heart from her chest.

"I'm so afraid—what I did—I don't want to make you unhappy," Penny replied, her voice wavering.

"While I appreciate the sentiment, I do not ever want you to feel my happiness or lack thereof is your burden. It is your place to learn and grow and feel safe enough to make mistakes. And it is my place to make sure you have the loving and supportive environment to do so, alright?"

Penny squeezed his hand so he knew she understood him, still struggling with her emotions.

"You were taken against your will, Penny. Whatever happened, it is in no way your fault. Do you understand me?" Lupin pressed, his voice lower, more authoritative.

"But—"

"No, there are no buts in this answer. There is one correct answer and I want to hear you say it."

"It's not my fault," Penny said, a weight lifting from her chest when she uttered the words.

Kissing her cheek softly, he pulled away, giving her a little space to collect her thoughts and let her know he was listening.

Her shaking hand clutching his the entire time, one broken sentence at a time, Penny explained what had happened once she arrived at the Department of Mysteries, skipping the bit about Yaxley covering up her mark, unsure how much Snape had relayed, and not feeling ready to share that piece of information with anyone until she was ready, or at least not until after she had the chance to speak to Snape about it.

Miraculously, Penny was able to keep her emotions at bay, somehow managing to put distance between herself and those events, feeling almost like a newscaster as she relayed them, although she couldn't help but notice how both Lupin and Snape stiffened, though neither interrupted her.

When it came to relaying the events regarding the boy Tommy, Penny struggled much more breaking into heaving sobs, afraid she may vomit again as she tried to describe what she witnessed. Lupin comforted her, rubbing her back, telling her to breathe and assuring her she could take as much time as needed. When she finished explaining how Yaxley and Umbridge had shared their plans for the werewolves, Penny paused, searching Lupin's face and found it full of cold fury. Her wince snapped him out of his anger, both hands pulling her into his warm embrace, the soft tones of his voice promising her she need not be afraid for him, or that she should feel the least bit of guilt. In fact, he told her that her relaying such information to him meant that the werewolves would have the best fighting chance and that the ministry would not be able to catch them off guard. He even went so far as to thank Penny for having the courage to share these things, and to care so much about protecting others.

This revelation more than anything gave Penny the courage to explain how her memories returned, who Nina was and what Yaxley had shown her. It was at this part Penny could no longer continue, Lupin letting her cry until her eyes were swollen and her throat was raw, her face tucked into the crook of his neck.

When she finally pulled away, Snape's hand reached across and offered her his handcherief, Penny accepting and attempting to clean up her mess of a face.

"You are much too brave for one your age. I can never help but marvel at your resilience. You give an old man like me hope, hope," Lupin said, giving her a warm smile as he gently caressed her cheek absentmindedly.

"I'm sorry for ruining Christmas with all this."

"Ruining?" Lupin said indignantly, "You were the only thing on my Christmas list my dear, and what a wonderful gift you are." Pulling her into another bone crushing hug, Penny couldn't help but let a small laugh escape her lips.

"Well isn't that the sound of an angel," he said in her ear, kissing it several times, as though he could not get enough of her.

A disgusted grunt from behind them brought him to stop, Lupin chuckling softly, pulling away with a much too smug look on his voice just as the door opened, flooding the room with light. Tucking herself back into Lupin's chest so as not to be forced to speak to anyone else, Penny held very still.

"Remus, I've brought some sandwiches, if Penny is feeling up to it, and Sirius wants to know if you have time for a quick word," Mrs. Weasley said, in her softest, most gentle voice.

"I haven't seen him since the full moon, but if you need me to stay, I will," Lupin whispered.

"No, I'll be alright, really," Penny whispered back.

"Leave the sandwiches, I'll be right there, Molly," Lupin said, standing and lifting Penny with him. Though it shouldn't have, his strength surprised her, Penny feeling the bicep beneath her palm flex as he did so and marveling at its size.

He set her on the couch beside Snape, who set down his book with an impatient sigh, Lupin placing a kiss on her forehead, "I'll be back soon," he whispered, and placed the plate on the table before taking his leave.

Of course Lupin had set Penny down so close to Snape their shoulders pressed up against each other, his nearness making her suddenly nervous. Would he be angry with her because she had spoken to Lupin and not him?'

"Eat, you look like a sandwich would do you some good."

"I could say the same about you," Penny retorted.

"I'm not hungry," he said, dismissively.

"Nor am I."

A long silence ensued as they both shifted uncomfortably, the side of his hand skimming hers and sending her heart thumping, but she did not pull away, rather she closed her eyes, stretching her pinky finger as far as it would go, pressing against his so there could be no doubt in his mind that she wanted him to stay put.

"He will pay for it."
"I know, I look forward to the day you give it to him,"

The shoulder beside her slackened, relaxing into her as though he'd just let out a huge breath.

"Did you tell them?" Though she didn't specify, he knew what it was she was asking.

"No, we thought it better left up to you."

"We?"

"Dumbledore."

This left Penny feeling oddly relieved, though she couldn't completely articulate why, the mark; everything that had happened at the Malfoy manor, even though Draco knew, it still felt like their secret—hers and Snape's. What he'd done to protect her, she knew the others would not understand. They would simply see a monster who marked her, and Penny found herself too tired to fight those battles.

"How'd you get the bruise?"

"Black."

"Oh? Did you give him one in return, or is muggle fighting still beneath you?" Penny said, amusement playing at the corners of her lip.

"No."

"Why would you let him hit you—" Penny said, flabbergasted, her brain working more slowly than her mouth. But then it hit her, he'd believed he deserved whatever Sirius had thrown at him. She thought back to the look on his face on the Hogwarts grounds a second before Yaxley had apparated with her; to the torment in his eyes when he'd given in and looked at her before carving her like a turkey on the Dark Lord's orders; and she understood, how the guilt must have eaten away at him this entire time.

"It wasn't your fault either," Penny said, hoarsely, leaning sideways and resting her head on his shoulder.

"As touching as I'm sure Lupin's little speech was for you I'm—"

"This isn't Lupin's speech, it's mine, and I already know there's pain in your heart too. So just shut up for once in your life, shut up and stay a while, unless of course you'd prefer to leave." The uncertainty in her voice betrayed Penny's fears. Her facade long crumpled, leaving her laid bare to the man beside her, giving him complete power over her. But she did not care, because it was what she wanted, the only thing she wanted.

His right hand reaching across himself so as not to disturb the one her pinky was holding, he found her hair, his fingers slowly lacing their through it, tugging out the knots and smoothing it in the most soothing gesture Penny had ever felt. "Go to bed, Potter."

"Only if you swear to stay," she protested, her eyes drooping almost instantaneously.

"I swear." At these words her body released all the tension it had been holding and found the relaxation it needed to fall peacefully to sleep, unafraid of what daybreak brought.

"There's nowhere else I want to be," he added, Penny already too far into unconsciousness to hear, but his hand continued its work on her hair, a small sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he listened to her slow, rhythmic breathing.

I just love Lupin so much, don't make me choose 💕