NOTE

WARNING: this chapter will involve sex with moments of dubious consent, as well as multiple references to Wilma's sexual trauma.

56. Legilimens

LEADERS AT HOGWARTS: UNDIGNIFIED AND DANGEROUS

Hours after the attack upon Andromeda Tonks née Black by a dangerous and unchecked dark creature, the most powerful members of the Hogwarts staff proved equally mercurial. The safety of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been threatened over the years by untrustworthy staff and rampant mismanagement. As Hogwarts faces its first year in session since the fall of He Who Must Not Be Named, it seems nothing has changed.

Though the castle itself has been restored to its former magnificence, the mental states of the leading professors have proven unstable. Severus Snape, former Death Eater and now professor of the Dark Arts, has consistently exhibited abusive and destructive behaviour, showing no respect for the personal property of those who dare to question him. Rubeus Hagrid, the school's infamous half-giant groundskeeper, has taken to inviting wild wolves into the castle. Wilma Snape (formerly Lupin, formerly Weasley by adoption), who will take over her latest husband's former post as Potions Master, seems more devoted to the care of her first husband Remus Lupin's infant son than to her new professorial duties. It is unclear whether the child will come to exhibit the same dangerous traits as his neglectful werewolf father, but sources say Rubeus Hagrid's wild wolves are currently his sole playmates.

The health of the Snape marriage being dubious at best, parents of Hogwarts students should take caution in entrusting their sons' and daughters' minds to the instruction of the couple, as the subjects they teach are the most challenging and dangerous taught at Hogwarts.

Perhaps Severus Snape's heroism in the war would excuse his fragile state, if his responsibilities for his new wife and former schoolmate's young child did not appear to be taxing him beyond his limits. One cannot help but question whether the endurance of Mrs. Snape's initial match under the Marriage Law would have resulted in a safer and more functional school environment. The removal of the young potential werewolf from the grounds of Hogwarts, and his seclusion with his missing father, would undoubtedly be preferable to his present instalment at the very heart of the functions of the school.

I put down the copy of the Prophet and let my head sink forward into my hands, my fingertips pushing against my eyelids. The article had left only one word to echo in my mind: Disaster.

I should have known the ministry's immediate acknowledgement of the danger posed by the creatures would have to be balanced out by some nonsense sooner or later. And here was Rita Skeeter's article, in print the very day after her visit. The destruction of her quill, of course, had not prevented her from writing.

"How this codswallop worms its way into print, I'll never know," Flitwick remarked.

I felt like hiding in a dark room and never emerging again. But, of course, that was not an option. The article, though absolute rubbish from every angle, would have an indelible impact upon my life from this moment forward. I could practically see the flood of owls which would arrive from parents, demanding Teddy's removal. And what would I do then? Give up my post? Disappear to some remote place and spend the next years caring for Teddy in isolation, tolerating monthly visits from Severus until I fell pregnant myself?

Tears ached behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wasn't going to let Rita Skeeter's words ruin my life. There would be some way to retaliate.

But first, I had to see Severus.

I had woken late that morning, and was quite certain that Severus had already laid eyes on today's edition of the Prophet. He had long since left the great hall, however, so I was forced into the castle to seek him out. After leaving Teddy in Poppy's care, I went to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom to peruse the Marauder's Map. But I could find Severus's small footprints nowhere. I thought it best to wait for him in the hospital wing–he would arrive for one of his frequent legilimency sessions with Andromeda eventually.

He showed up an hour later, his eyes ablaze as he strode through the stone doorway. I stood up from the cot where I'd been reading to Teddy, thinking it best to simply spit it out. "I'm sorry she–"

"Save it," he snapped. He did not look at me, but sat swiftly in the chair at Andromeda's bedside. I took this as my cue to take Teddy and go. Severus would need, as he had said on that first night, silence.

The first angry letter arrived just minutes after this bitter interaction. It was a bit rambling, but its author's wishes were made clear enough by the climactic lines: Severus Snape deserves better, as does the next generation of witches and wizards you would struggle to teach. Werewolves have no place at Hogwarts, and neither do their lovers.

Minerva spoke with me, advising me to write a statement to the Ministry, detailing the truth of what I had seen that night. "I've asked Severus to do the same," she said. And from her tone of voice, I understood that Severus had refused to have this meeting together.

His increased anger and coldness over the next two days were clearly caused by the article. He rarely spoke to me unless it was absolutely necessary. This silence and distance was in a way more frightening than the heated arguments we'd had in the past. I tried to tell him that the version of our relationship Rita Skeeter had written was not how things really were, but he acted as though I myself had condoned the publication of the words.

I tried to prove him wrong by shoving various letters in his face–for many more letters arrived–but none had any effect. "Go and do your duty to the boy, why don't you," he said, by way of dismissing me from his office. And I turned on my heel and went. If he hated my devotion to Teddy so much, well, let him continue to hate it. I couldn't simply cease to care for the helpless boy.

It was lovely weather outside, so whenever Severus took over the hospital wing to search Andromeda's mind, I took Teddy onto the grounds to play in the sunshine. Skeeter's lines about the wolves being his only playmates had struck me as quite sad, for it was true–Teddy had no other children to keep him company, and never had. But I did my best, supervising his play with the little wolf, and entertaining him myself when I could. I felt how emotionally rough and guarded I had become since the attack, and these hours with Teddy were all that saved me from becoming just as bitter and angry as Severus.

My mood was not helped by the irregularity of my sleep. I was only able to sleep very late at night, when Teddy had drifted off, and Poppy had convinced me that she was able to monitor him and Andromeda on her own. I would force down a vial of dreamless sleep, and wake after four or five hours, still exhausted but unable to force my body to rest more.

While Teddy took his evening nap, and Poppy was down at dinner, I would sit by Andromeda and speak to her. I would say anything, but mostly I told her about what Teddy had done that day.

"She cannot hear you," Severus interrupted, on the fourth day after the attack. He'd been standing there silently for who knew how long.

I turned to him, only slightly surprised by his presence. He looked awful–as sleepless and anxious as I felt. But his appearance stirred no pity in me. "I need this," I insisted.

A condescending look was painted on his face, and I had only just begun to dread what he would say next, when footsteps sounded in the corridor and Poppy entered.

"You need her now?" she asked Severus, meaning Andromeda.

"No," he intoned.

Poppy looked at him, at me, and then began to straighten Andromeda's sheets–though they didn't need straightening. "Wilma," she said. "I need to submit your examination and your note tonight."

Merlin. When will there be rest.

Today was the thirtieth of May. Tonight would be the full moon. In the midst of the madness, I had completely forgotten about the monthly requirement. I felt myself freeze when Severus looked at me. Indeed, his eyes were full of cold fire.

"In an hour?" he said.

I swallowed my offended feeling. He'd spoken so bluntly, and in Poppy's presence. As though we were planning a minor transaction.

"Fine," I said, by way of agreement.

Severus swept from the hospital wing. I made certain that Teddy's sleep was deep before going out myself, feeling Poppy's eyes upon me.

While I bathed, I pondered.

Beneath the frustration I felt towards Severus, I hoped that being physical together would help to bridge the chasm which gaped between us. I understood that the constant presence of Teddy, along with the scathing insults and implications of Rita Skeeter's article, had brought Severus's jealousy to the boiling point. I knew that he was unable to look at Teddy without seeing Remus–just as, in the beginning of my marriage to Remus, I had been unable to see Teddy without seeing Tonks. To him it must have felt, in certain moments, as though it were Remus I was feeding, bathing, giving my time to, and putting to bed.

The water moved around me as I rinsed my hair, soap swirling in dull white bubbles upon the surface.

Of course there was a significant part of me which was full of anger at Severus. This was a completely irrational response to a child. However, I could see that it was not real hatred, but Severus's injured response to a perceived threat. And what I knew about Severus's past kept me from deeply resenting his behaviour.

I believed, deep down, that we could find a way back to each other when we touched. I wanted to show him gentleness, to return to how we had been just a few days ago.

I stepped carefully out of the tub, drained the water, and dried my body. I slipped on my dressing gown over my nakedness, and went bravely in this state down the stairs.

Severus, too, was in his dressing gown. He demonstrated no reaction to the fact that I had descended through the castle in such a state of undress. He held the door open without a word, and shut it behind me rather harshly. What I had hoped would serve as a signal of peace seemed to have been ignored at best, and taken the wrong way at worst. Now, rather than confident and comfortable, I felt rather judged and exposed. The sun was still out, trying to push its way through the cracks in the window shutters. There was no fire.

Severus grabbed me without prelude and roughly pushed his mouth onto mine. This was no tender, patient kiss. This kiss was an attack. He seemed to be trying to haul something up from within me–something which I wasn't sure was there, or ever would be. Through the haze of shock which his hard hands created, I remembered my goal and tried to give him what he seemed to be wanting: for me to prove that my feelings for him had not changed.

I had always suspected there might be a side of him which wanted sex to be rough, to be about possession and control. Now I was certain. I had approached Severus's door with a truce in mind, but he had opened it intending to dominate me in a way he had not yet done. I knew he sensed my inability to reciprocate even as I tried to keep up with him. And I realised, with a little sink of fear and resignation, that he didn't want me to keep up with him. He didn't want equality. He wanted to master me.

I was limp in his arms as he took me to his desk and shoved glass and books and papers from the surface. He pulled open my dressing gown and turned me around, my hip bones colliding with the wood. I fought to catch my breath, feeling the whisper of air as he removed his own dressing gown behind me. He was already hard, already tipping me forward and probing at my entrance. I yelped when he started to push into me, and clamped my hand down on his own hand, which was clutching my hip.

"I'm not ready–"

He pulled me back against his chest, and his fingers went to work between my legs. But there was no real tenderness in him. He pulled my head back and kissed me, his mouth and tongue as unforgiving as they had been before. I thought we should stop and talk to one another before proceeding–this was going nowhere good–but I was too shocked to speak.

Once I was wet enough he pushed me forward again. I only had time to brace my hands on the desk before he pushed up into me. I gasped–it hurt–but I didn't say anything. He began to thrust, slow and hard, his body curled over mine, his deep groans rolling over me. I panted, watching his hand pushing into the desk next to my smaller one. His other hand unexpectedly wrapped around my front and covered my mouth. I made a sound of protestation against his palm, and wrenched his hand away by pushing my forearm against his. My mouth came free and I gasped. "Don't do that."

He didn't respond. His hand went back to my hip, but his thrusts grew rougher. I looked down at the desk where my hand had been, at the print of sweat it had left there. I realised, distant from my body, that I felt afraid. Why was he not showing me his face? Was his spite so great that he believed me deserving of whatever this was? It didn't feel like sex; it felt like a punishment.

He became harder and stronger still. My body lost strength and he had to hold me up. In a moment of struggle to balance me his hand went to my ribs and his fingernails caught on my skin. I knew it was an accident, but if it hadn't been, it would have been in keeping with his behaviour. I grunted and held back tears.

I was glad that it did not take long for him to finish. When I finally felt him filling me, when the weight of his body increased against my back and the sound of our heavy breathing filled my ears, I found myself flooded by numbness.

A deep and primal part of me resented him. I reminded myself that this was not his true self. But it was still the side of himself he had chosen to show me, and I felt betrayed. Weakly, I pressed my hand against his hip. He took a long time separating his body from mine, almost lording his strength over me on purpose. He was being awful–letting his worst come out. He didn't even look at me as he left me to stand with trembling legs in front of his desk, scourgified himself, and put on his dressing gown.

I remembered how considerate he had been on the night of the pensieve. I know this is hard for you. Where do you not want my hands? Words which had been spoken in this very room, and now seemed to have been so quickly and fully forgotten. Severus knew full well that he shouldn't have done what he had. I deserved to be angry that he had treated me so harshly.

Regaining enough of my senses, I twisted around to see where he had hurt me. I touched my fingertips to the raised red lines on my side. Then I crouched down to pick up my dressing gown and slid it over my shaking shoulders. I now wished that I had come fully dressed. Perhaps there would have been more time to speak, to remember who we were to each other before our bodies joined.

I felt used.

I looked at Severus as our breathing slowly quieted, but he didn't look back. "Go to Pomfrey," he said, after a long moment.

I could only stare at him. My anger was cold rather than burning. When I spoke my voice was calm and detached.

"Don't cover my mouth in bed again."

His hands sharply tied his dressing gown closed. "We weren't in bed."

"And don't give me orders."

He still wasn't looking at me. I couldn't let him get away with this–couldn't let him think that this was alright.

"You don't understand," I said. Because he didn't. He didn't understand how it had felt to be handled that way. He didn't understand what it meant to walk upstairs with his semen between my legs.

"Understand what?"

I found myself staring at random objects. The doorknob of a black cabinet. The ash bucket at the fireside. I wanted to explain, but there was no way to do so. How could I explain what I had experienced?

I went quietly to the door, and turned around just before pulling it open. "I can't stop you being angry with me," I said to Severus's back. "But don't ever take it out on my body again."

I went through the door and shut it hard behind me. Holding my dressing gown closed over my beating heart, I walked up the stairs from the dungeon. I hated the dissociative feeling which clung tightly to my body. I almost didn't hear the sound of Severus's footsteps on the stairs behind me, and his voice calling my name.

"Wilma–" he said again, when I had reached the entryway. I turned to watch him emerge from the dungeon doorway. His face had lost its stubborn coldness, and I could see the remorse in his eyes.

"What?" I asked, my voice soft and far away.

He swallowed. "Will you forgive me."

Wordlessly, I went to him and wrapped my arms around him. I only wanted to be near him; to show my love, and be shown love in return. I felt a subtle trembling in his hands as they touched my shoulders. "I shouldn't–"

"Shh," I said. I held him tighter and let my lips part against the exposed skin of the centre of his chest. "I forgive you."

Heavy footsteps interrupted the private moment, and Severus drew back as Hagrid appeared in the doorway of the great hall. Hagrid's face took on an expression of surprise, and then he quickly looked away. "Excuse me," he said, and stepped outside into the golden evening.

Severus looked after him as the door closed. I knew that I was still halfway removed from myself, but tried my best to speak clearly. "I know it was because of what she wrote," I said.

His face turned back to mine, drawn in hard lines of self-hatred. "I should never–"

"I know. But I know you won't do it again."

I managed a weak smile, and turned to go up to the hospital wing. His voice was deep and partly strangled. "Will you be alright?"

"Yes," I said.

I felt his eyes linger on me until I'd reached the top of the stairs and rounded the corner.

After Poppy's examination I took Teddy from the hospital wing to the Defence Against the Dark Arts bedroom. He marvelled at the giant dragon skeleton which was suspended over the desks. My body was exhausted from many nights of poor sleep, and I needed to reset myself after what had happened with Severus. Though I had completely accepted his apology, I still wasn't entirely present in my body.

I magically hovered the mattress off of the bed and let it land softly on the floor, so that Teddy could sleep with me safely. I placed my wand on the desk, out of his reach, in case he awoke before me and began to curiously toddle about. I took a weaker dose of the Dreamless Sleep potion, which would not keep me from waking up if he needed me in the night. Then I laid him down in the centre of the mattress and curled my body around him, his softness and his smell bringing me immediate peace.

Severus came to check on us in the middle of the night. He came and went unnoticed, and when I stirred I knew only from the sense of recent movement in the empty room that he had been there.

Molly arrived the next day after lunch, unannounced. I was surprised by the sight of her walking up the stairs to the hospital wing as I was on my way down. Teddy was in my arms; Severus was sitting with Andromeda.

"Oh, dear!" she said, pulling me into a warm embrace. "Let me take him. Rest a while." I allowed Teddy to be eased out of my arms. He was quite happy to see Molly again, and his hair turned the same shade as hers for the first few minutes she was with him, before morphing back into its new preferred grey. "Makes him look like an old man!" Molly exclaimed, tapping his nose. "Where'd that pretty blue go?"

"The wolves," I said.

"What?" Molly asked. She had a certain brightness in her eyes which I sensed was a bit forced.

"The wolves," I repeated. "Hagrid. I found them, Hagrid's keeping them. Two little wolves. Teddy likes their fur. It's grey."

I stopped myself from speaking further. I felt like I wasn't making any sense, and I knew that Molly was hiding her concern for me. I could already sense why she had come here, from the way she had kept from saying anything about Rita Skeeter's article–which she had surely read–and the way she had immediately offered to hold Teddy.

"I would like to take him back home for a while," she said, confirming my suspicions.

I looked down at my lap. Did she see me as a failure? Incapable of properly caring for the little boy?

She put her hand on mine and I looked at her. "Regardless of what that evil article said, you should have a rest from him for a while. Let me take care of him. Then you can focus on your other responsibilities."

I knew she meant both my upcoming work as a professor, and my relationship with Severus. It was a great favour she was offering–if people knew that Teddy was no longer living primarily at Hogwarts, then the angry letters would likely cease, and the gossip might abate a bit. Still, the suggestion made me go partly numb. What would I do with myself, without Teddy?

"Just think about it dear," Molly said, patting my hand. But of course by the end of the hour she had convinced me to allow her to take Teddy down to the Burrow.

"We must also hold a meeting of the Order as soon as possible. I've reached out to Harry and he's for it."

The Order had been kept together by threads since the end of the war, but there had been very few official meetings. To look around the table and see our losses so plainly seemed to have been too painful a prospect for everyone involved. Molly suggested that now might be the proper time to begin holding more regular meetings again, "at least until this scare is over. We'll hold it at the Burrow, of course. And it's my opinion–and Arthur's–that Severus should attend. Where is he, by the way?"

"Up with Andromeda," I said. "I can tell him what you said about the Order."

"Do try to convince him, dear. It would make things better all around, if he knew he was wanted."

I walked with her and Teddy to the Three Broomsticks, and bid them goodbye at the door. Walking back to the castle with empty arms was saddening. A strange ringing sound was stuck in my ears, and could not be removed.

I sat in the chair at Andromeda's side late into the night, and barely noticed when Severus came in. I was keeping my eyes open by staring at Andromeda's closed ones, and every other sight, sound and thought had faded out of my awareness.

"Can you hear me?" his voice said.

I imagined myself telling him I could.

He approached and almost put his hand on my shoulder. He stopped himself from touching me. He walked around the bed and poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the small table. He offered it to me.

Take it, a small voice prompted. But I couldn't seem to move my arm.

Severus set the glass down and knelt beside my chair. His voice gently penetrated the fog of my disassociation. "Wilma, I'm sorry. I was dreadful."

A flood of tears escaped my eyes, which I hadn't realised I'd been holding inside. I let my body fold in on itself in shame. I imagined that if my past wasn't what it was, I might have been able to regain control yesterday evening; to turn what had become terrifying into something that was pleasurable and new for us both. I was even more upset by the reality that I no longer had Teddy to take my mind away from my own pain. There had been a brief time in my own childhood when I'd thought life might turn out to be easy and good. Now that naive hope had flown far away.

My sorrow was interrupted by the singular sensation of Severus's presence in my mind–the tingling beginnings of it.

"No," I said, snapping to attention. I knew instinctively what he'd intended to find. "You don't want to see."

I looked at him through my tears and saw that he, too, was crying. "I do."

"No," I said, pushing back against his invasion. "I don't want you to be hurt."

"I don't want to hurt you."

I looked at him hard, and began to understand. What had happened yesterday… This was what he needed to ensure it never happened again. He very carefully slipped his hand over mine.

"I'll be gentle."

I let my tears run freely as I made my choice. The rusty drawbridge to those memories slowly lowered, and I allowed the two worst nights of my life to float to the front of my mind.

The first, in the Forbidden Forest, as the battle raged.

The second, in the green firelight of Lucius's bedchamber.

Every hideous moment repeated itself.

I closed my eyes and felt the pressure of Severus's hand, the respect and the pain of his mind as it merged with my own.

It was soon over.

He withdrew and was sick into a nearby basin. I heard him spit. A terrible groan came out of his mouth; a groan I had heard many times before–coming from myself. A groan of helplessness, fear, and disgust.

I felt myself trembling as the memories receded. I stood up and went to him on shaky legs, offering him the glass of water he had tried to give me earlier.

He will never look at you in the same way again. What have you done?

To my relief, Severus took the water. "I shouldn't have let you see," I whispered.

He pressed his hand to his forehead. "I was awful," he moaned.

I looked at him in shock, seeing at once where his thoughts had carried him. "What you did yesterday was not what they did. It was just difficult for me, because of it. Did you think I meant… Severus…"

Vulnerability had flooded his eyes, and when they met mine I was overwhelmed by it. His voice was hoarse and quiet. "May I hold you? Is that something you would want?"

"Yes," I answered, without thinking.

His body surrounded mine, and I let his magic, his warmth, seep into me. I knew now, in a deeply physical way, that what we had experienced together at the cottage had not been a lie; that it was not gone, even though it had been often pushed down by anger and pain. I lost all of my strength and sobbed into Severus's chest. He led me to one of the small beds and laid down with me, holding me protectively.

"I'm sorry I'm broken," I cried. "I don't want to be– I want to be whole for you."

His soul flowed from his hands, making me believe every word he spoke. "You are not broken. You owe me nothing. I love you."

It was only the second time he had ever said it, and the first time he had done so without my urging. I wanted to tell him I loved him, too, but the wave of sobs which overtook me then was too strong to be fought.

"I'm so glad you're alive," he said, holding all of me close to him. "I'm so glad that you lived."

NOTE

I apologise if anyone was upset by the sex in this chapter, and hope that the content warning at the beginning was sufficient. If it was not, please let me know how I should revise it.