Previously: While her classmates went to Hogsmeade, Kali Black discovered something about Professor Snape and then spent the day getting to know Harry Potter only for Sirius Black to break into the school while everyone was enjoying the Halloween feast.

Chapter Nine:

The Family Resemblance

Hundreds of running footsteps echoed through the entrance hall like heavy raindrops during a storm. Soles slapped against the marble floors, and whispers bounced off the stone walls in a quiet roar of fright.

"Hurry up," Severus snapped at two slow-moving second-years.

They scurried away faster than mice fleeing from a snake and darted into the Great Hall clutching toiletry bags and stuffed animals. The stream of late-comers slowed to a trickle, yet Severus's skin continued to itch. Every glimpse of dark hair made his fingers twitch for his wand, but every time, it was only another student.

"That should be all of them," said Pomona Sprout, red-faced and panting, her round eyes darting from student to student. She too fingered her wand, stroking it in time with her heavy breaths.

"Potter?"

She nodded in the direction of the Great Hall. "He was among the first in. Albus made sure of it."

Severus followed her line of sight. Potter loitered with Weasley and Granger beside a row of purple sleeping bags, not a scratch on any of them. Potter kept glancing toward the other side of the Hall where Kali Black stood, her skin devoid of colour, her eyes fixed on a spot over Greengrass's shoulder. Many other gazes turned in her direction, searching for signs of guilt.

From this distance, Severus couldn't perform Legilimency. She looked innocent enough; scared and confused, much like her classmates, but she had already proven to be her father's daughter.

Albus and Minerva exited the Great Hall and joined Severus and Pomona.

"Shall I fetch the Dementors, Professor?" Severus asked. With all of the students in one place, the guards should have no trouble sniffing out Sirius Black. They could have him thrown back in his cell before the day ended.

"No," said Albus, stopping Severus's fantasies in their tracks. "I warned Cornelius. So long as I am headmaster, no Dementor will cross this school's threshold."

"Professor—"

"I'm afraid my decision is final. I shall inform the Dementors that Mr Black has made it into the castle and tell them to watch the perimeter."

"Is that wise, Albus?" asked Minerva. "They won't take kindly to being told to stand down."

"I don't imagine so, no, but I neither do I plan on giving them a say in the matter." He drew his wand and, in a single motion, closed the door to the Great Hall and cast a Patronus. "Minerva, would you be so kind as to allocate each teacher a section of the castle to search? It seems unlikely that Mr Black would linger, but one never knows."

He started toward the entrance without waiting for a reply, and Minerva began passing instructions to Pomona without giving one.

Severus followed Albus. "Professor, have you given any thought as to how Black got in?"

"I have had a great many thoughts, each as unlikely as the last."

"I believe I know how he did it. I've already expressed my concerns over your appointment of Lupin to the Defence Against the Dark Arts position. This confirms that I was right. Lupin was absent during dinner."

"Though I appreciate your attention to the situation, Remus's absence confirms nothing at all. The full moon is tomorrow, and Remus needs his rest."

"Sir—"

"I do not believe that anyone in this castle would help Sirius Black break into it." The silver Phoenix flew an impatient circle over their heads. "Now, please offer you assistance to Minerva. If Mr Black is still here, we must apprehend him."

Unclenching is jaw, Severus said, "Of course, Professor."

With the Phoenix trailing silver light behind them, it and Albus disappeared into the night, heading toward the gates where hundreds of Dementors waited. Severus could hope that the guards disobeyed Albus's order, but he knew they wouldn't. He had seen how brightly that Patronus could shine.

Spinning on his heels, Severus clenched his hands into fists, ground his teeth, and slapped his feet against the floor louder than the students' had.

Minerva directed him to the third floor, and he went without a word. Wand in hand, he poked around behind every suit of armour, every painting, and every tapestry. He cast disillusionment charms and revealing charms, prepared to go on the offence at the slightest sign of movement, but the person he found was not one he was allowed to attack, no matter how badly he wanted to.

Lupin walked down the Charms corridor. His eyes swept from side to side, but his posture remained relaxed, his wand hanging loosely from his fingertips.

"Some Defence Against the Dark Arts professor you are," said Severus, loud enough for his voice to echo. "Anyone could catch you unawares."

With neither a startled jump nor a tensing of his shoulders, Lupin turned with a smile on his face. "I knew you were there, Severus."

The nostrils of Lupin's big nose flared, and Severus's spine straightened. Through the hallway's windows, the moon hung, a day away from being full.

Its pale light glowed in Lupin's eyes and turned his smile into a baring of fangs. Severus remembered those fangs. In reality, they had been a room's length away when James Potter had found him and dragged him away from the Shrieking Shack, but in his memories, they snapped an inch from his throat, close enough to feel the heat of breath against his skin and sense the sharpness of those teeth and the power behind those jaws.

Another nostril flare made Lupin wince. His gaze darted from Severus to the moon and back only to drop to the floor a moment later.

Fingers digging into his palms, Severus clenched his jaw hard enough that he was surprised when his teeth did not wear down to dust. No amount of skill at Occlumency could disguise scent, and his father had often said that fear was the smelliest of human emotions. There should be a potion to mask it. If there wasn't Severus would make one. He could create a collection: The Anti-Werewolf Kit, complete with a silver bullet engraved with your troublesome mutt's name.

His wand warmed between his fingers. He wouldn't need a silver bullet to get the job done. Any number of curses or potions would work just fine, but Lily had hated that fact.

"Magic is special," she had said once. "Killing it should require something special, too."

She had loved Muggle fantasy films for that reason. Even when every detail was wrong, even when magic was cast as the enemy, her eyes had remained glued to the screen, enjoying the imaginary rules of balance.

Her words rang more false now than they had then. If destroying something special required a weapon of equal extraordinariness, the Killing Curse should have left her unscathed.

"I've been meaning to thank you," said Lupin, and for a moment, Lily stood beside him, wearing her prefect badge and her secret smile, a ghost made out of memories that would never fade.

She had haunted Hogwarts since Severus's arrival months before she had died. After the cursed night at the end of October, the occurrences had worsened. For a year, she had not left her side, yet she had remained out of reach, often only visible from the corner of his eye. Now, she appeared only on Halloween, a yearly reminder to Severus of his failures. He had killed her, but she had only kindness and smiles for him; things he did not deserve.

"Thank me for what?" Severus asked, the sharpness of his tone dissipating Lily's spectre.

"The Wolfsbane Potion. You brew a far better concoction than what I'm used to." He smiled again, smaller this time, not showing his teeth.

This had always been Lupin's game. He acted the part of a put-upon Jiminy Cricket, the voice of reason never heeded, but beneath the cardigans and elbow patches, his gentle manners and even temper hid a monster.

"Have you found anything?" Severus asked, peering down the way Remus had come.

"No. Black would have left once the Fat Lady refused to let him into the Gryffindor common room. He wouldn't risk getting caught." Remus jaw rolled around the words, chewing each as though preparing to spit them out, but instead, they left his mouth like demure ladies, quiet and unassuming.

Severus's own jaw clenched. "How lucky we are to have you here, Lupin, you who knows this madman so well."

"Not well enough, apparently."

"It's fortunate that Azkaban has muddled Black's brain so much that he can't tell what day it is any more. For him to pick the one evening when the entire Gryffindor tower is empty … What could he have been thinking?"

Spots of yellow overpowered the green of Lupin's irises, more wolfish than human, yet unwavering with the steady, controlled danger of a man rather than a beast. Lupin had always been clever. He had masterminded a decade's worth of tortures masquerading as pranks, letting others get their hands dirty to preserve his reputation.

"You look like you have an idea," said Lupin with the gentle tone of a suspicious mind planning several moves ahead.

"I noticed the Firewhisky bottle in your office when I delivered the Wolfsbane potion this morning. Perhaps Black was also celebrating an anniversary."

There it was: the flinch. Lupin recoiled and in doing so lost some of his height. For the first time since third year, Severus could look down on him.

"I know what you think of me, Severus, but I had nothing to do with the attack on Lily and James."

"Yes, you did." The snarl made his throat itch, but the words kept tumbling out, eager for freedom. "You and Black were attached at the hip. You should have known what he was doing, but you remained blind even after he—"

He cut himself off, sucking the rest of his sentence into his chest, leaving the hallway silent and airless.

Lupin bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

The itch spread from Severus's throat to the rest of him, an irritation he could not scratch. If not for Lupin's blindness, Lily might still be alive. Instead, she was dead, and Lupin and Severus were alive, the half-breed and the turncloak, whose actions were as responsible for killing her as the Dark Lord was.

"Keep your apologies, Lupin. They're worth as much as you are."

Lily whispered in his ear, a familiar hiss about being nicer to people. Hexes jumped through his mind, each more painful than the last, anything to put Lily's ghost to rest, but Dumbledore had given him orders. He spun on his heels and caught a glimpse of red hair that vanished before he could see her face.

With his eyes squeezed shut, he marched away.

"This is unacceptable," said Minister Fudge.

The early morning light shone off of his sweaty forehead like a second sun that Severus could not look at without squinting. Every metallic contraption in Dumbledore's office glowed from the same effect, leaving no safe space upon which Severus could rest his eyes. He would not stare at his lap like a moping child while Lupin sat beside him, so he let the reflected light stab his eyes, and he gritted his teeth against the urge to look away.

"Sirius Black was here," said Fudge, his voice and jowls shaking, his pale face as livid as it was capable of becoming. "How could you let him slip away?"

"Mr Black has always had an affinity for escaping figures of authority," said Dumbledore, sipping his tea as though he were discussing a misbehaving student instead of a deranged murderer.

"He climbed onto the roof one time after I caught him stripping the leaves from one of my Mandrakes," said Pomona.

The muscles beneath Lupin's thin trousers bunched. He shouldn't be here. Dumbledore had summoned all the Heads of Houses to discuss new security measures and had included Lupin in the invitation. Dumbledore's naivety knew no bounds.

Fudge rose from his seat for the third time since his arrival and paced the length of the office, every step worsening the hitch in his breath. "He has to be found. How quickly did the Dementors get to the castle after Black was spotted? Perhaps if we moved them closer, we could better their response time—"

"I did not allow the Dementors into the castle."

Fudge stopped mid-pace. His skin lost what little colour it possessed, and he turned to Dumbledore, one foot still in the air, his mouth opening and closing, releasing only a high-pitched whine.

"I will not subject this school or its students to the Dementors' presence. Not again." Dumbledore's eyes hardened the way they had after the news of the Dementors' search of the Hogwarts Express had reached the castle. His gaze cleared and filled with benignity only a moment later. "Besides, it would seem that Mr Black has found a way of hiding himself from Dementors. He's duped them twice now that we know of."

"That isn't possible," said Fudge, collapsing in his chair. "How is that possible?"

Dumbledore's steady gaze turned to Lupin, who cleared his throat and shifted in his seat to face the Minister, turning his back on Severus.

"We know very little about Dementors, Minister," said Lupin. "Everything we have discovered has been accidental or through distant observation. No one has ever opted to research Dementors thoroughly because of the effect they have on people. We know that they don't eat the way we do, instead feeding on positive emotions and memories. We know that they don't sleep but will hibernate when they're without a food source. We haven't found a way to kill them, but we can repel them with the Patronus Charm, a spell of pure happiness, which suggests that although Dementors' appetites seem bottomless, their tolerance is not."

"What is your point, Professor?" asked Fudge, his unfocused eyes flicking from Lupin to Dumbledore.

"Until we understand Dementors, we cannot know how Sirius Black is eluding them."

Dumbledore's attention fixed itself onto Fudge with a calculating look worthy of any Slytherin. Severus scrunched his brow and tried to guess at whatever scheme the headmaster had cooked up this time.

Fudge dabbed at his wrinkled forehead with an already soaked handkerchief. "What are you suggesting?"

"It would be wise to do now what has been avoided until this point," said Lupin. "I would recommend that you form a team of researchers tasked with understanding Dementors."

"Who would agree to be part of such a team?" asked Minerva from where she stood to the side of Dumbledore's golden chair. "You said so yourself, Remus, people avoid Dementors for a reason."

"It would have to be volunteers only", said Dumbledore. "Anything else wouldn't be fair. Full medical care for the position would have to be covered, and a hefty remuneration would preferably be offered."

Fudge shook his head, setting his jowls aquiver. "The Ministry has neither the manpower nor the resources for an undertaking like that. Sirius Black has us stretched thin enough already."

"This will help you catch Mr Black, Cornelius. Knowing how he gets past Dementors will allow us to run counter to his attempt the next time he makes a move. Surely you can understand that."

Colour returned to Fudge's cheeks in a flare of pink, and his chair rocked on its hind legs as he rose. Had Severus been on the receiving end of Albus's patronising tone, he would have made sure his chair toppled and would have wanted to add in a few more loud, angry noises to voice his indignation, but Fudge's ire showed only on his face.

"Black figured out how to trick Azkaban's guards without a research team or funding," said Fudge. "A man as brilliant as you should manage to do the same. If you'll excuse me, I have a meeting at eight."

He didn't wait for a dismissal or a goodbye. The fireplace's flames flared green, and he was gone.

Dumbledore's gizmos filled the ensuing silence with ticks and whistles, which seemed to grow louder the longer unspoken sentiments filled the room. The pouches under his eyes sagged and grew when he rubbed his temples, his vibrant energy finally leaving him after a sleepless night and an unsuccessful meeting.

Pomona clucked her tongue, always the first to break long stretches of quietness. "That could have gone better."

A scoff escaped Minerva, and she resumed Fudge's pacing.

From the seat beside Lupin's, Filius asked, "Is it wise, Albus, to alienate the Minister?"

"No, it is not. I'm afraid I let frustration get the better of me." Dumbledore removed his hands from his temples, but not even a new light of resoluteness could erase the signs of age and exhaustion. "I'll write to Cornelius later today after I have had a nap, and I will mend our damaged bridges."

"What was all that about doing research on Dementors?" asked Minerva, halting her footsteps in a patch of sunlight. "What do you hope to achieve with that?"

Severus could always count on her to ask the questions he didn't dare pose directly.

"I told you what I hope to achieve: to find out how Mr Black is evading the Dementors."

Minerva's eyes narrowed, and Dumbledore continued, "I doubt the knowledge will help us in capturing him. It may take years to unravel the inner workings of Dementors, but I believe that the information could prove useful in the future, perhaps against a new foe"—he looked at Severus—"or an old one."

A familiar weight attached itself to Severus's eyelids. They flagged shut for half a moment until he felt Lupin's gaze burning the side of his skull. He turned with a glare, and Dumbledore clapped his hands.

"If that is all, I shall go for a kip."

No one argued.

Severus tried to outdistance the other professors on his way out, but Lupin's long legs kept pace. He was alone. Lily's ghost had left their side for the time being.

"What do you want, Lupin?"

"To try and apologies again for last night."

"Did I not make my thoughts on that clear enough to you?"

When Severus entered a stairwell that led directly to the dungeons, Lupin followed and said, "We aren't children any more, Severus. We're colleagues, and Dumbledore trusts you. I would like for us to put aside our differences and try to at least be civil."

Severus spun and lost his footing. He tripped down a step, reaching for something to steady himself on as Lupin grabbed for the front of his robes. Severus saw the hand coming, faster than he had expected, and flinched, worsening his stumble.

"You don't see it coming the first time," his mother had told him, rubbing arnica ointment over his wrists and arms, the bruise on her own cheek a sickly purple. "Sometimes, even the second one is a surprise as if you've convinced yourself that the first time was an accident, a figment, anything but the truth."

Severus had always seen it coming. He had inherited a lot from his mother, but not her delusions. He had always known when pain was on the way; he could feel it in his bones even if he could never escape it.

Lupin's fingers wrapped in the fabric of Severus's robes and dragged his fall to a halt.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice and composure firmer than last night, stronger. The beast was gone from his eyes, leaving behind nothing but green.

How Severus hated green eyes nowadays.

"Sorry won't bring her back," he said, yanking Lupin's hands away from his collar.

"Neither will hating me."

Lupin didn't flinch this time, and it made Severus's gut thunder. Any mention of Lily or the consequences of his actions should make him cower and drown him in regret until the air left his lungs and the waters chocked him. It should make him hurt.

Lupin's fingers curled at his side, as rigid as claws but less deadly.

Curiosity had brought him here. He had sacrificed his pride two days in a row because he wanted something, and Severus knew what it was. Dumbledore could not be wooed or tricked into revealing his secrets, so Lupin had turned to someone he thought could, someone he believed Dumbledore trusted.

Severus had not doubted that Lupin was in league with his old friend, but now he knew for sure, and if Dumbledore would do nothing about it, he would.

Severus burst into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom the next day, startling the students who had been chattering without a care in the world.

Yesterday's full moon had exhausted Lupin. Guilt over helping Black or irritation that his partner in crime had failed to achieve their goal had leaked into the wolf's consciousness, making for a painful night even with the Wolfsbane Potion. Lupin had informed Dumbledore that he was in no state to teach, and the old man had offered the job to Severus for the day. It was not permanent. Dumbledore had made that clear, and Severus cursed him again because of it.

"I will be teaching this class today," he said, his robes billowing as he marched to the front of the room.

His Slytherins raised their brows but smiled at him while the Gryffindors stared with bovine eyes. Only Kali Black looked unsurprised by this news, leaning back in her chair, looking bored. How like her good-for-nothing father she was. Not two days ago, Severus had seen fear and uncertainty in her eyes, but it had vanished in the light of day.

Granger raised her hand. "But, sir—"

"Quiet," he snapped, sparing a glance for Lupin's orderless desk. "It would seem Professor Lupin does not have a lesson plan—"

The classroom door burst open, and Potter dashed in, his robes wrinkled, his tie crooked, and his hair a rat's nest.

Severus couldn't be surprised. He was sure that Potter took full advantage of the less strict professors' leniency: arriving late, not doing the work, expecting to fly by on his name alone just like his father. Severus wouldn't stand for it. He had built the kind of reputation and authority over the years that meant that students were seldom late for his lessons, but they were appropriately punished when they were.

"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter," he said, ignoring the fact that he had also been late, "so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."

Showing his usual arrogance and lack of respect, Potter did not move. "Where's Professor Lupin?"

"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," said Severus with a twisted smile. "I believe I told you to sit down?"

Potter stayed where he was. The nerve of that stupid boy. "What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing life-threatening," he said, although he wished it were. "Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty."

With a scowl belonging to a petulant child, Potter walked at a Flobberworm's pace to his seat. Severus spared him a brief withering glance before looking around at the class.

"As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far—"

Granger's hand shot up, but she didn't wait to be called upon to speak. The words spilt out of her like a broken faucet. "Please, sir, we've done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas, and Grindylows, and we're just about to start—"

"Be quiet," he said, not even needing to raise his voice to freeze the room. He'd been hoping Lupin wouldn't leave a detailed note as to which topic he wished for Severus to cover with his class. It made Severus's goal far easier to reach. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organisation."

"He's the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," said the Thomas boy.

Severus waved away the class's murmur of agreement. "You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaxing you. I would expect first-years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows. Today we shall discuss"—he flicked through the textbook to the chapter at the back and curved his lips to hide his sneer—"werewolves."

Black sat up straight, losing the unpolished posture that probably had Walburga Black turning in her grave. The girl's features hardened into a glare, one far more impressive than her father's. Much like Potter, Sirius Black had always veered toward petulance. Severus returned her scowl with a dark smile.

"But, sir," said Granger, with that irritating inability of hers to restrain herself, "we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start Hinkypunks—"

"Miss Granger, I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394." He glanced around the classroom. "All of you! Now!"

With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering from the Gryffindors, the class opened their books.

"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" asked Severus.

They all sat in motionless silence, too bone-idle to read a simple textbook before coming to class; all except for Granger, whose hand, as it so often did, shot upward.

"Anyone?" he said, ignoring the annoying girl.

Black raised her hand, storm clouds in her eyes, but he ignored her too. He couldn't have her twisting the facts to suit herself and Lupin. His sneer returned.

"Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between—"

"We told you," said the Gryffindor Patil twin. He wouldn't have been able to say what her first name was. He didn't care. "We haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on—"

"Silence!" The word came out as a snarl, but he steadied it with a breath and returned to a tone of foreboding calm. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognise a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are."

"Please, sir," said Granger, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf—"

"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," he said. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Shame darkened the girl's cheeks. She dropped her hand into her lap and lowered her head until her awful hair hid her face. If Severus wasn't mistaken, tears filled her eyes.

Weasley went the same shade of red as Granger, but his eyes blazed with outrage, not embarrassment. "You asked us a question, and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"

Anger sparked in Severus's gut, cold and electric. He advanced on the boy as the room held its breath.

"Detention, Weasley," he said, his voice soft, his face level with the awful boy's. "And if I ever hear you criticise the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. The students sat and took notes on werewolves from the textbook while Severus prowled up and down the rows of desks, criticising Lupin's work and speculating on current events.

When the bell rang, at last, Severus held the students back.

"You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognise and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Weasley, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention."

Everyone left the room except for Weasley, who walked up to the front desk like a man facing the gallows, and Black, who sat at her desk, arms folded over her chest, her defiant eyebrows set in a scowl. She had not stopped glowering at Severus since the beginning of the lesson.

He found a perverse joy in her rage. "Can I help you with something, Miss Black?"

"I would like to have a word with you, sir," she said.

"Give me a moment to deal with Mr Weasley first."

She nodded, a muscle in her jaw jumping as she clenched her mouth shut, and Severus appraised her restraint—a trait her family was not well-known for possessing.

Black had spent the past two months as a thorn in his side, questioning him and criticising him in his classroom. No matter how many detentions he gave her, no matter what he made her do during those hours, she never seemed to care, and she never stopped. She toyed with him like a cat batting at a fangless snake. Now, he would reverse the roles.

"Weasley," he snapped, drawing the boy's attention away from Black. "You spoke out of turn today, and that is unacceptable. I am your teacher, and you must learn some respect. As punishment, you shall report to the hospital wing every evening this week, and you shall scrub out the bedpans. Without magic."

Weasley turned a furious shade of red. He opened his big mouth, but Severus cut him off. "Unless you wish to make it two weeks, I would suggest that you leave."

The boy pressed his lips into a tight line and stormed out. Severus turned his focus onto Black.

"Know that I am not in the mood for your mindless defiance, Miss Black. Unless you wish to find yourself in detention alongside Mr Weasley, I would suggest you think carefully about what you're about to say."

"I know exactly what I'm going to say," she snapped, her self-restraint gone. "What is your problem?"

"You want to be mindful of that tongue of yours. It will get you into serious trouble one day."

Evidently, Lupin was not only a terrible teacher; he was also a terrible parent if Black's lack of respect for authority figures was anything to go by. Her eyes flared, and the line of her jaw sharpened. It washed over Severus like a balm, like standing beneath a shelter and watching a storm break.

"You're hoping that my classmates will think back to this lesson, take one look at Remus, and put two and two together, right?" she asked, and her voice shook. "Why?"

Severus shrugged, a lazy lift of his shoulder accompanied by a lazy wave of his hand. "I merely thought that werewolves would make for an interesting topic."

Her lip curled. "Bullshit."

"Language," he said, but it lacked any real bite. She was so like her father, so easy to get riled up.

"Are you that desperate for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position that you're willing to get Remus exposed and sacked? Putting his life on the line for a job? Except you're too much of a coward to do it yourself because that would mean facing Professor Dumbledore, so you manipulate your students into doing it for you, you cockroach."

He stood, the backs of his knees knocking his chair to the ground, the crack of wood hitting the floor competing with his ire. "That is enough. I will not be spoken to like this. You owe me your respect—"

"I owe you nothing," she said, her voice as loud and angry as his. "You had my respect until you started bullying your students. That was your choice, and if you think that choices don't have consequences, you're wrong."

"If you continue to speak to me in that tone, I will—"

"You'll what?" she asked, her mouth curling into a cruel, disparaging smile. "Take away House points? We both know you won't do that. Give me more detentions? Go ahead. Because that's all you can do, right? You can't suspend me or expel me. Only the Headmaster can do that, and he won't. So what will you do?"

Severus's skin tightened, and his insides burned. The defiant flame that made Black's eyes glow taunted him. He ground his teeth and forced his words to sound calm. "It may have escaped your notice, but that half-breed you call a guardian is a monster, just like your father is a monster, and sooner or later they will both be put down like the animals they are."

The muscle in her jaw jumped again, but beyond that, she did not move.

Severus had half-expected an attack; his hand gripped his wand just in case. Sirius would have attacked. The one time Severus had mentioned Lupin being put down like a dog, Sirius had attacked. The half-breed comment had always earned Severus a hex, but one mention of euthanasia had landed him in the hospital wing for two weeks.

Black's hands didn't leave the top of her desk, her brightly-coloured nails digging into the wood, tension running through her like a drawn bowstring, turning her fingers into claws. Her next breath shook and filled the silence, and her hands flattened on the table.

"I don't see how you can judge who the monsters are," she said. "Remus's condition was forced on him. But you chose to become a monster."

His hand twitched around his wand. He tried to brush it off and narrowed his eyes at her. "I don't know what you're referring to, Miss Black."

She smiled, except it wasn't a smile at all. It was a baring of the teeth, cold and calculated, and if ever he'd doubted that she belonged in Slytherin, his scepticism was alleviated with that one look.

"Do you not?" she asked. "Why don't you roll up your left sleeves?"

Severus's blood boiled and seared through his veins. He struggled to unclench his jaw enough to say, "Lupin told you."

"No." She sank back into her chair and reclined against the backrest. "Unlike you, Remus is a good person. He wouldn't go around revealing information he has no right revealing." Her index finger drew a pattern over her desk. "I won't tell anyone yours because Remus wouldn't want me to. Perhaps you could thank him for that."

He sneered. He would not be thanking that mutt for anything.

Black rose and collected her bag. "Pull a stunt like the one you pulled today again," she said, "and you will discover exactly how much of a disruptive influence I can be."

"Are you threatening me?"

She arched a delicate brow. The expression didn't make her look as condescending as her father had on the occasions when he'd worn it, but there was an iciness to it that Sirius had always lacked.

"Are you only just catching on?" she asked. "We've already established that there's nothing you can do to stop me. It isn't difficult, Professor. If you want me to play nicely, you will have to do the same."

"This isn't a game, Black."

She smirked. It was a look Severus had seen not only on Sirius but also on Regulus and on Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Andromeda. It marked the Black family resemblance more than any physical trait ever could.

"Of course it's a game," she said and swirled on her heels, leaving the classroom a shade colder than she'd found it.

A tremor bit into Severus's hands. He swiped his arms over Lupin's desk, sending parchment, books, and ink wells crashing to the floor. The shattering of glass and the thumps of fallen objects added to the clamour in his head and pounded against his temples. A bottle of ink remained on Black's desk. He flew at it and hurled it against the wall.

Black tears ran down the white stone, a sluggish race to see which streak would first reach the floor. Severus's heart rate slowed to follow their progress.

When his breathing evened, he stepped back only for his fingertips to slip over the tabletop.

Ink twirled on the desk, a snake slithering from a skull's mouth.

Severus's teeth bit into his tongue as he snapped his jaw shut. Curses and swears rang through his head, each worse than the last, but none left his mouth. He swallowed the blood stinging his tastebuds, straightened his spine, and lifted his wand. With a swish of his wrist, he set the room to rights, erasing the past five minutes.

Kali Black was just like her father.

She would regret her actions. Severus would make sure of it.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Snape is a fascinating character, but writing from his point of view was a struggle. I didn't want to redeem him or demonise him, doing my best to stay fair to his grey morality. I'm not sure how well I managed it, so let me know.

As always, a huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favourited, and/or followed this story!