The girl was acting… strange.

She'd taken dinner in her room and hadn't come out once. Severus had watched the Monitoring Charm to find that she'd been pacing for the better part of an hour and a half. She'd gone into a frenzy of flipping open her textbooks, using some charlatan spell to help locate keywords, but had abandoned them for walking the length of her room back and forth instead.

Severus tried to ignore it but there was a gnawing voice in his head demanding that he check on her. It was unlike Miss Evans to hide herself away if something was wrong. Normally, she'd mope openly where Severus would inevitably pick up on it… or she'd wait until she knew she was in over her head. This was an annoying trait shared with her Housemates that Severus had begrudgingly accepted. He couldn't teach the girl when to know her limits. He supposed it was why she'd ended up with the self-preservation of a worm.

He spent the evening putting the final touches on the Patronus Potion for the girl and waiting for her to finally come and join him, but the door stayed shut. She was still awake after taking a shower that lasted almost ninety minutes. When she began pacing again, Severus decided that enough was enough — something was wrong, and he wasn't going to wait to find out what it was.

When Severus rapped at her door, he heard a BANG that shook the floor. The girl swore loudly as something thumped against the wall. The Monitoring Charm twinkled, indicating that she'd fallen over. Severus rolled his eyes and jerked open the door to find Miss Evans frantically shoving something under her pillow.

So she was hiding something — he fucking knew it. She possessed the subtlety of a freight train.

The girl froze, like a rabbit who caught wind of a wolf's scent. Her nose even twitched like one, her freckles paling. "Er — yes?"

Severus' eyes swept across the room for anything amiss. It was a mess — her desk looked like it had been ransacked, an ink pot tipped over on the floor, dripping onto the stone floor. When he looked back to her, he noticed that her hair was wildly disheveled, even though it was pulled back tightly, like she'd taken a page from Granger's atrocious haircare routine.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" he demanded, his voice sharp as an arrow.

She stared at him, letting her hand slowly come out from under the pillow without breaking eye contact. "I was doing research," she stuttered through a few more consonants clumsily before something coherent came out. "On the Charm, that's all."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," her chin lifted, her dark eyes brightening with that Gryffindor defiance he loathed more than anything. "Why? Is something wrong with that?"

He'd lied — it was Gryffindor arrogance he hated most of all. "There wouldn't be, if that's what you were actually doing."

She paled. Without another word, he slammed the door shut behind him and Summoned the pillow, revealing a thick, black book underneath. She moved to grab it, but Severus was quicker, flipping it open the second it hit his hand.

He immediately recoiled when he flipped it open to see Potter waving up at him, though Potter's face quickly twisted into one of blatant disgust as well. Severus tossed the photo album onto the bed as though it had burned him. The sight of Potter made his stomach twist in pure, unadulterated loathing — that smug motherfucker —

"I was looking for stuff to use as memories," the girl wouldn't look at him. "I thought it might jog something… if the Dementors can make me remember all the way back to when I was a baby, maybe I could remember something about them."

Severus let his gaze flicker back to her face. She seemed resigned but too cold, too distant.

"I know you hated Dad," she continued, muttering as she glared at him. "I was trying to be considerate."

Something curled around his spine and up to his brain, something insidious and envious — she doesn't want you, she wants Potter, she wants Potter here — Dad —

"I don't need you to spare my feelings," Severus sneered back at her. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I was concentrating." she crossed her arms and looked down, like she wanted to disappear into the floorboards.

The bitter hatred quickly dissolved into concern. It lapped at the edges of his Occlumency like gentle waves beating against the shore as Severus studied her face. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she seemed paler, her skin almost gray, but it might've been the dim lighting. When she turned to put away the photo album, he noticed that her socks weren't matching and that she only had one shoe on.

Severus crossed the room and caught her chin, holding it until she met his eyes. It never got any easier, seeing echoes of himself in her, hating every sharp edge in her cheekbones and the gentle glitter in her black eyes. They were much softer than his, like black pools, a tranquil surface undisturbed — untainted.

"No more Patronus Charm for the next few days," he looked into her face, noting that her eyes slightly bloodshot. "You'll never be able to cast it if you run yourself into the ground trying. I won't have you making yourself ill trying to prove yourself over something that is not worth your health — and your sanity, for that matter. Am I clear?"

Miss Evans' mouth parted, as though she were about to protest, but instead, she looked away and nodded mutely.

Severus sighed, his hand falling away from her face. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or shall I leave you to wallow?"

She shook her head, rubbing at her temple. "It's nothing. It's like you said, I'm spending too much time on something that isn't happening."

He wanted to take whatever it was that was bothering Miss Evans and crack it into pieces. Severus' hand twitched in her direction again, wanting to pull her close, but he restrained himself. He felt fucking ridiculous, standing there, and watching her stumble back to the bed, shoving the photo album of her former life back under her pillow.

"Here," Severus took the vial with the freshly brewed potion from his pocket instead. "This will help."

The girl stared at his outstretched hand for an inordinate amount of time, like he'd offered her a severed head. Suspicion mounting, Severus thrust it into her hand, only letting go when her fingers finally curled around it.

He raised an eyebrow at her, leaning against the doorway expectantly. "Well?"

Her nose crinkled. "What, right now?"

"I'd like to know that it works, Miss Evans." his frown deepened. Why didn't she want to take it? She'd been reduced to tears at Christmas, and it had helped her escape the Dark Lord. She should've been elated.

She hesitated. "I was hoping to wait, to try the Patronus without it."

"It won't hinder or aid you unless you activate it. And since you're taking a break, that is of no concern anymore, yes?"

She gave him a long look — why was she staring at him like that? A mixture of trepidation and resignation, a look Severus hadn't seen on her in a very long time.

"Alright," Miss Evans muttered, ripping off the cork with a soft pop. "yeah, you're right, it couldn't hurt."

The look on her face told him otherwise. What —

She Summoned her wand from her mess of a desk and pointed it at her heart, biting her lip. Then, she sucked in a deep breath and whispered, "Lumos,"

The blinding light filled the room, the girl's face incandescent. She held her hand over her chest, breathless, wearing a smile that Severus had longed to see since he'd come in, making his chest loosen in relief.

"It worked," she said, almost to herself, before looking back to Severus. "I'd — I'd forgotten how strong it is."

"As is the Patronus Charm. That is the emotion you are trying to capture."

Miss Evans nodded slowly, caution creeping back into her face like fog. She set the vial down slowly on the nightstand, eyebrows pulled together in deep thought. "How long will it last?"

"The same as the last batch, six months or so, depending on how often you utilize it." Severus paused for a moment, the silence between them a tangible thing in the air. "My hope is that it will help you sleep."

She gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

That should have been the end of it. There was no need for Severus to stay, but there was something different about the girl, something thicker in the air, something she was keeping from him, and it wasn't that fucking photo album. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders until her teeth rattled but it was clear that she was growing uncomfortable the longer he lingered.

Too bad Severus didn't care. She would tell him, whether she liked it or not.

"Miss Evans," Severus began softly, gauging the girl's reaction. She stiffened, her back turned to him as she hurried over to her desk, quickly casting Repairo on the mess. He cleared his throat — damnable girl. "I've taken the liberty of ordering your school things."

Her shoulders relaxed. "Oh… alright. I can pay you back —"

"Don't you dare. I'm not taking Potter's money." he threw back at her, watching it hit her square in the face.

She frowned. "Why not? You shouldn't have to pay for my stuff."

Severus gave her a long, searching look. She shrank away from it, and he frowned — what was the matter? She'd spent the morning trying to cast the Patronus like she did every bloody day, but never came back this scattered. She was usually completely knackered and mournful, pestering him to show her the goddamn Charm himself.

"It's my responsibility, not Potter's." Severus said stiffly.

"Y-you shouldn't have —" she stammered.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "And why is that?"

"I just meant that you — you didn't have to." the girl gave him a weak smile, one that Severus didn't buy for a second. "Thank you."

"Stop thanking me," he snapped. She was beginning to unnerve him. The usual cheekiness and incessant questioning would've been a welcome reprieve, compared to this.

She bristled. "Why? That's what you do when someone does something kind."

"It's my responsibility."

"I thought I was your secret." her voice hardened. "Won't that raise questions?"

Severus heard his knuckles crack at his side as he balled them into fists. "Luckily for you, goblins don't ask questions. I've made certain there's no paper trail."

"Good," she said coolly. "Wouldn't want that getting out."

Ah — it was this again.

What had prompted it? Was Miss Evans simply taking out her frustration over the lack of a Patronus? No, Severus wanted to believe that was all it was, but he'd seen her toss and turn and torture herself every night. This was different. This was — there was something dangerous in the way Miss Evans was staring at him, something so familiar that hovered just his reach —

The girl stared back, unwavering, still as stone. The only sound was her trembling breath, like she was about to fall over in exhaustion. Severus wanted to lay into her, wanted to sneer and twist her words and thoughts until she cracked open like a rock and told him what was wrong, but he wouldn't. He had long reconciled that he could never hurt her — not consciously, not willingly.

"Go to bed," Severus snarled over his shoulders as he stormed out. "You look like death warmed over."

He slammed the door shut behind him with a deafening bang.

Ariel did not try to sleep. For once, it had nothing to do with her nightmares.

The second Snape left she collapsed, scrubbing at her face frantically. She'd been racking her brain all night, fighting with herself, trying to come up with an explanation for what she suspected, but she couldn't shake it no matter how she framed it. And of course he'd picked up that something was wrong with her, because why wouldn't he?

He had to be able to read people well if he'd been a Death Eater.

He'd have to be even better at hiding things, at concealing what he didn't want others to see, what lay in those inky, bottomless eyes. Ariel had often searched her own in the mirror and wondered if they looked like his at all, when he wore them with such detachment and intensity, like he was only just barely keeping something contained.

But that was the thing — Ariel was beginning to see past the facade, and it terrified her. She didn't want to know what lay beneath the surface anymore, didn't want to uncover the secrets he so carefully guarded. But that word — Death Eater —

She threw herself off the ground and stumbled into her bathroom, sitting on the toilet with her head between her legs. Count backwards, find the ocean, think of nothing, nothing was better than this, but her mind was running a thousand miles a minute, hurtling through memory and time.

All those times he'd told her to stay away —

You don't know what you're asking

You have no idea what will come for you if anyone was to even have a suspicion that you were my child

Hope is a dangerous thing, Miss Evans

This is child's play compared to what the Dark Lord and his followers can do to you – because of me

Ariel didn't want to lie to Snape, but if what she suspected was true, Snape had lied to her about a lot more than she ever had to him. She trusted him more than anyone, and not just because he was her dad. Snape had earned it — he had saved her life time and time again, had shown her the slivers of that bright and secret thing Mum had known, if only fleetingly.

No, not fleetingly, but years of trust, because they'd been childhood friends, the whispering willow and gentle trickle of the river the only remaining piece of it, besides Ariel, though she couldn't count herself, could she? Friends weren't what had spun Ariel into existence, it was something more, something —

But Mum had left him for a reason. Ariel had never really thought about — maybe she'd been avoiding it — maybe she was just that stupid — maybe —

She knew that Snape would never hurt her — not in the way Voldemort wanted to, Ariel knew that. He nearly lost his bloody mind if she got so much as a papercut, but Mum had Obliviated him for a reason and Ariel was quite certain those words had come up before.

Death Eater.

You've never heard the term before?

Severus remembers nothing —

Because he wanted to join —

Snape had destroyed Mum's letter. He hadn't wanted anyone to know he was her father, their relationship a damning secret, a secret he was ashamed of —

There was no proof of anything, Ariel told herself. Only a memory lost in mist, lost to the fire, lost to the space of time that existed between the last precious seconds she'd held proof in her hands. She didn't have to think this way, she was just worrying for nothing. It could have been — anything—

Snape was still haunted by those days, Ariel could see that clearly, could feel his heart beat faster and his grip tighten when she asked him questions about it. But why? Why keep it a secret if they were father and daughter?

A ragged sound escaped her throat, her head spinning with thoughts she wished would just disappear so that she could go back to normal.

She could — the potion worked again, for some reason. Ariel couldn't even celebrate in the joy that there wasn't something wrong anymore when all she could think of was her father being a murderer —

"Lumos," she whispered, and she was drowning in the glow of her heart, basking in it, forgetting to breathe, forgetting her name until the darkness began to creep in again, leaving her alone once more.

When it faded completely, she wept.

A door slammed in the early hours of the morning. Severus had been up since dawn, but it was still unusual for the girl to be awake this early. This was normally the time when some semblance of sleep overtook her for a short while.

He jerked open his bedroom door to find his quarters still.

The girl had left.

Standing there for what felt like an eternity, he only lifted his head when he noticed Lily's photograph staring at him, a look of worried plastered across her face. She smoothed the baby's hair over her head, her green eyes impossibly imploring.

"She'll be back," Severus said to her. "she always comes back."

Lily nodded, but her face remained tight with concern. Severus took that moment to check the pocket watch. It almost always read Library or South Tower, but this morning, a new location appeared.

Defense Office

The world went red, the edges of his vision shimmering.

"Son of a bitch —" he snarled, hurtling a paperweight at the bookcases, glass shooting through the air like shrapnel.

Remus awoke with a start to someone banging on his door.

He nearly fell out of the armchair he'd collapsed into some time after midnight, a bottle of bourbon the culprit. It had been a gift from James for Remus' eighteenth birthday — he'd never opened it, but after yesterday, it had felt proper. Most of the things he owned — however little — had been gifts from James and Lily, actually, but he didn't want to think of that now. That was why the bourbon had come in handy.

You'll kill Ariel, a voice had hissed, before the alcohol had taken its desired effect, You'll kill her and Sirius killed them all, kill her or him, you cannot have both —

The banging resumed, this time with a vengeance. Remus threw his hand over his eyes and looked at the time — nearly seven in the morning. Who in Merlin's name —

"Professor Lupin?" came a muffled, familiar voice, sounding quite urgent. "Hello?"

Remus sprang up like someone had lit a fire underneath him.

"One second," he called, his voice cracking from the scorching dryness of his throat, which was begging him for water.

He pointed the tip of his wand into his mouth, casting a quick Aguamenti before swishing the water around and swallowing. His mouth tasted horrible, and he was quite certain he needed a shower, but he'd thought he'd have a morning to recuperate before taking another whack at unpacking.

When Remus opened the door, he found a similarly disheveled looking Ariel waiting for him. The spaces under his eyes were dark, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, her wand tucked behind her ear. She had a suspiciously empty-looking rucksack slung around her shoulder with something very familiar peeking out at him.

Remus' chest tightened — James' Cloak —

"Tell me you didn't," Remus said for the eighth time. "This has got to be the stupidest thing you've ever done."

"I got that, thanks," James snapped back. "Instead of chastising me, how about helping me look?"

"It's a baby," Sirius called from the other room, while Peter upturned the couch cushions. "How the sodding fuck do you lose a baby?"

"None of you are helping," James shouted, running his hands frantically through his hair. "I wrapped her up in it for literally ten bloody seconds —"

Remus had thrown his hands up in exasperation. "Your Invisibility Cloak is not baby-proof!"

"It's not idiot-proof, either," Peter had muttered.

Ariel flung Remus back to the present when she spoke. "Hi, do you still need help cleaning?" she asked, breathless and flushed. James had worn the same expression when they'd found her fast asleep in a pile of laundry.

Remus just stared down at her, still groggy. "I — well, I do, yes —"

"Brilliant." Ariel shoved past him and into the classroom, throwing her rucksack and cloak beside the door. "Where's that poster you mentioned?"

She had already made her way halfway across the room by the time Remus' brain caught up to what was happening. He shut the door and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror — another thing Lockhart had left behind. It was placed so that it was directly by the door, where one would normally greet students. Only slightly mortified — although Remus rarely gave much stock into his appearance — he tried to tidy up his hair and wipe the grit from his eyes as Ariel surveyed.

"Ariel, it's —" Remus looked down at his watch. "Five after seven in the morning. Have you even had breakfast yet?"

She didn't miss a beat. "The house elves brought it to me an hour ago. I ate in my room."

Her room — in the dungeons, with Snape. Maybe Remus was still dreaming. "Are you always up this early?"

Ariel shrugged. "Depends. I was awake reading, anyway."

Only mildly suspicious, Remus quirked an eyebrow. "On the Patronus Charm again?"

"No," her gaze shifted to that cursed poster of Lockhart on the wall, who seemed to shimmer when he noticed they were looking at him. He waved overenthusiastically, diverting his gaze awkwardly after a moment, which was when Remus noticed that Ariel was making a rude gesture with her hands at him, half-hidden under his cloak. "I was brainstorming how to get him off your wall."

Remus ran a hand through his hair. "Believe me, if there was a way, I would've found it. I don't think —"

Ariel reached into her rucksack, digging through blindly until she pulled something out. She held it up to him, only making Remus feel even more unsteady and off kilter.

In her hand was mango.

Remus scrubbed at his face. This had to do some strange sort of dream, induced by the grief and guilt. Ariel glanced over her shoulder at Remus with a mischievous smirk — nothing like Lily's, which had always conveyed too much, not very good at all for pranking — and held it up close to Lockhart's face.

His expression twisted into one of abject horror, writhing, like he was trying to get away. After a moment or so, Lockhart slumped back in a dead faint and the poster flaked off the wall like ash in the wind. Ariel grinned triumphantly, crumbling it into a ball and tossing it into the rubbish bin.

"Ta-da!" she gestured to the empty wall with a slight bow. "A Lockhart-free wall — the very best kind."

Remus just blinked, shaking his head. "How in Merlin's did you know that would work?"

"I read that Lockhart hates mangos," Ariel shrugged. "Apparently, he's allergic, which makes him break out in hives and whatnot. Not good if all you care about are your looks, I'd reckon."

Remus only smiled. "That was quite clever, I have to say."

She beamed, but it didn't reach her dark eyes, which stayed cold and dull. "Thanks, his stupid books were good for something at least."

Ariel began rummaging around the room, but Remus stayed in the same spot, not knowing what to say or do. He was oddly grateful; he had thought she would laugh at his expense for being unable to get rid of Lockhart's poster. Instead she had come up with a solution that had been rather unconventional — he'd never seen anything like that work, but photographs were finicky like that. There had been one of Sirius that Remus had in his cramped apartment he'd left facing down for almost two years. When he'd finally picked it up again, Sirius had gone.

In the meantime, Ariel had turned her attention to the piles of books that littered the room, skimming them with her finger and making soft bemused noises at the titles. Most of them Remus had taken from the library, some of them his own. One of the more useful Defense books he'd discovered had a broken spine from when he'd accidentally dropped it.

"So, you're up early." Remus ventured, interrupting her browsing. "Any reason why?"

She paused, and he could see the wheels turning in her head as she thought of a suitable answer.

"I was curious if my theory would work." she said finally, but the flimsy facade slipped, and she bit her lip hesitantly. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding, I can leave —"

Remus wasn't buying it. "Or you could just tell me why you're really here."

She frowned, but it didn't reach her eyes. "What do you mean?"

Remus sighed and leaned against one of the bookshelves he'd managed to clear. "I mean, you're obviously not just here to experiment with photographs and books. You're here for a different reason, and I want to help if I can."

She set down the book she'd been perusing and huffed, almost to herself. Then, she straightened up and took a deep breath.

"Do you have any books on Death Eaters?" she asked.

The book Professor Lupin gave Ariel was not very big. When she asked him about it, he averted his eyes and sighed.

"There is a lot still unknown," Professor Lupin had moved to stand by the window, arms crossed tightly across his chest. "The Death Eaters that went to Azkaban refused to talk. They'd been steadily dosing themselves with Truth Serum so in case of an interrogation they wouldn't be compelled to spill all of Voldemort's secrets. The rest feigned innocence and bought their way out."

"Did a lot of them go to Azkaban?"

Professor Lupin shrugged. "Those that we know of."

Ariel was quiet before she looked back at him. "You call him by his name — Voldemort."

He just looked at her, his face unreadable. The kindness in his eyes was clouded with something else… something Ariel had never seen before, not even in Snape — grim defiance.

"Yes, I do," Professor Lupin said finally. "I believe it's important to name the things we fear."

Ariel nodded slowly, letting her fingers trace over silver letters printed on the black cover — The Rise of the Death Eaters: A Comprehensive Timeline of Events. It was another long title, Ariel thought to herself. Maybe Professor Lupin had a thing about that. She thumbed through the pages absentmindedly. It looked like it was an encyclopedia of all the atrocities that had been committed by Voldemort and his followers.

Her gut twisted sharply.

"So… what was the draw?" Ariel muttered, making a face at an illustration of someone's hand melting off the bone.

He stared at her, uncomprehendingly.

"To join him," Ariel gestured to a photograph of Voldemort that looked like Riddle, only much older and more… demented. He still held that charm and poise, but when she looked at his eyes, she both found herself wanting to look away and hold his gaze forever. They reminded her vaguely of a snake.

Professor Lupin hesitated before he answered. "Power, mostly. Control. Voldemort wanted to shape the world in his own image, to rid it of the impure and the unworthy, eliminate anyone who might stand in his way, to silence anyone who might disagree with him. Unfortunately, some of the more unsavory characters in wizarding society agreed with that."

Ariel didn't say anything. She didn't need to. The anticipation was crushing her, suffocating her. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing.

"I don't understand why they would follow him," she said. "To do such horrible things… what was the catch?"

Professor Lupin didn't answer for a long time. He just stood there, looking out the window at the rain that was falling in sheets outside. It went on for so long that after a while, Ariel wondered if he was ever going to answer her.

"He gave them purpose, I suppose," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "He told them that they were special, that they were better than everyone else. He offered them a sense of belonging, of camaraderie. He promised them that they were fighting for something greater than themselves. Some bought into it — some realized too late that they'd sold their souls to a lie. There was no way out for them. No one deflected from the Death Eaters and lived to tell it."

Ariel got the feeling he was talking about someone specific. She bit her tongue, feeling something akin to understanding bloom inside her.

"Did you… fight in the War?"

He was quiet for a long time, again. Ariel was afraid she'd overstepped when he nodded slowly. "I did."

Her heart skipped a beat. A question was on her lips, almost compulsory, like she had to ask for them, but she swallowed it, letting the burn settle in the back of her throat. Did you know my parents?

She flipped to the back, where a list of notable figures was listed. She skimmed over the names with the tip of her finger, stopping when she recognized one.

Black, Regulus

Black, Sirius

There had been two of them? Of course there had been, Ariel shouldn't have been surprised. There were very long descriptions underneath both, although Sirius Black's was far longer. Ariel's eyes darted across the page — it was boring information, like his birthday, and family tree. Professor Lupin cleared his throat and flipped over the page quickly. There was an illustration of what looked to be a group of Muggles shielding themselves beside Black's name as two very familiar names replaced theirs.

Evans, Ariel

31 July 1980

Only known survivor of the Killing Curse.

Evans, Lily

30 January 1960.

Member of the Order of the Phoenix. Mother of Ariel Evans. Murdered by Lord Voldemort on 31 October, 1981.

That was all they'd given her. No other mentions, just that she'd fought and died. Ariel gritted her teeth while she avoided Professor Lupin's gaze, which was becoming more and more imploring.

She pretended to swing her foot too far and kicked the leg of the table, upsetting a mug Professor Lupin had left sitting at the edge. While he bent over to grab it, she went straight to S, holding her breath.

There was —

— nothing.

No Snape. No Severus Snape. No mention of him at all, but Lucius Malfoy's name wasn't there either —

She flipped it back before Professor Lupin stood up again, quite slowly, too, as if he had a bad back or something. Ariel turned the book back over and opened to a random page. She blinked down at it, the pictures causing something hard and hot to squirm in her sternum. People in black robes and bone-white masks, their wands lifted to the sky as green sprung from the tip —

Green light —

A woman screaming —

A mirror —

The next section made Ariel wish she hadn't asked for the book.

Few records remain of these events but what is documented paints a horrifying picture of fear and suffering placed upon witches, wizards, and Muggles alike. People lived in constant fear for their lives, unsure when or if a Death Eater might appear in their midst. Families were torn apart when loved ones vanished without a trace; entire villages ransacked and destroyed in an instant. It was an era that left its mark on countless individuals, harming not only those killed but also traumatizing those who watched in horror as their world around them crumbled under the weight of unchecked power and cruelty.

No area was immune from terror – even the most isolated communities felt the full force of these wicked individuals. The Death Eaters had no compassion and no remorse as they committed atrocities in their hunt for power and gain. Muggleborns were targeted in particular, either killed outright or rounded up for horrible experiments in dark magic – often involving torture, mind control and manipulation. They were subjected to such terrible forms of cruelty that it's impossible to fathom the mental anguish caused by these actions.

The subsequent events believed to have begun in August of 1978 led to speculation that Lord Voldemort had originally sought more permanent measures to ensure his victory. Upon numerous testimonies, although not corroborated by any firsthand accounts, stated that under his orders, Death Eaters sought out Muggle and Muggleborn women —

Professor Lupin snapped the book shut. "That's enough, I think."

She nodded, her head feeling disconnected from her body. "Yeah…"

Ariel couldn't stop herself from shivering as Professor Lupin took the book, levitating it onto one of the empty bookcases that lined the walls. The words of the passage felt like they were crawling beneath her skin, twisting, and morphing into something grotesque and terrifying. She couldn't help but imagine her mother being subjected to the same horrors described in the text –

Someone was screaming –

She looked up at Professor Lupin, who had a peculiar, almost lost expression on his face.

"I-I'm sorry," Ariel stuttered. "I didn't mean to… I mean, if it's too much to talk about, we can stop. I understand."

Professor Lupin shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. "No, it's alright, Ariel. It's important that we remember the past, even the parts we'd rather forget."

Ariel nodded, almost absentmindedly, feeling a lump form in her throat. She knew he was right, but it didn't make it any easier. The weight of the knowledge she had gained was oppressive, suffocating. She needed to get out of the room, out of the castle, out of her own head.

"How about tea?" he asked quietly. His head was ducked low, like he was testing something.

She forced herself to smile. "Tea would be good."

Severus was waiting for his daughter when she returned.

Something inside him had been coiled to spring, something twisted and bent. It watched the girl creep into his quarters slowly, quietly, deliberately. She knew — she knew, and she'd done it anyway. Just like Potter had, the werewolf would creep in silently and take, but this time, it was different.

The girl was his — his and his alone. Not Potter's, not Black's, and certainly not Lupin's. The wolf didn't know it, but Severus would make sure that the girl did.

Miss Evans caught sight of him almost instantly and stiffened. When she pushed the door shut with a click, she did not turn her back to Severus, their gazes locked on one another. Severus' knuckles curled over the arm of the chair, turning white under his grip.

She stared back at him without faltering, clear as crystal.

Severus would never admit it, but the girl was indeed braver than most. She knew not what she had walked into, what he would make her see, what lengths he would go to keep her safe. She did not know that she looked into the face of a man who would stop at nothing for her. Lily had known. She had known and it had brought her to him, only for her to leave again. It had both terrified and exhilarated her. He supposed it was similar with the girl — she had seen the parts of him that kept most people miles away, but she came back time and time again.

The same could not be said for the goddamn werewolf. Dumbledore had sworn Severus to secrecy about Lupin's condition, but that did not mean Severus had no say in how or when his daughter interacted with him. There was no way in hell Severus trusted that shitfaced coward to be alone with his child with Black on the loose.

Miss Evans was silent, but her face said everything Severus needed to know. She stared at her shoes, one hand still on the doorknob.

"Well," Severus began softly, his voice dripping with contemptuous venom. "I suppose congratulations are in order, Miss Evans. You have once again shown an exemplary demonstration of a lack of common sense that few can match. Bravo, indeed."

Her mouth set into a tight line, grim and grating. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Do not play this game with me, girl. I can assure you that it will not end well."

She said nothing for half a beat, but her lips had started trembling. "You haven't told me why I shouldn't trust Professor Lupin, just that you clearly don't like him. He's been nothing but helpful to me."

The wood on the chair cracked under Severus' fingers. The girl eyed it warily.

"Is that so?" Severus whispered, and she flinched. "Then why, pray tell, did you not divulge your whereabouts to me this morning?"

Miss Evans lifted her chin. "Because I knew you wouldn't approve."

Severus rose from the chair. "And you didn't think to pause and consider why?"

"Would it have made a difference? You like to omit things — you wouldn't have told me. You would've just dismissed me."

Severus took a step closer to her, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light, so close to something else that if she pushed, it could so easily turn. "You have no idea what you're dealing with, girl. You've known this world barely three years and you still have no clue what kind of darkness lurks here. Lupin may seem charming and kind-hearted, but he has secrets. Dark secrets that he'll never tell anyone, least of all you."

Her lips twitched, almost in a smile, but it was too muted, too veiled. It caused the wild thing that wanted out inside of Severus to thrash in response, coiled to strike.

"Everybody has secrets." she said. "Maybe you have some, too."

The way she said it, so quietly, almost pleading, enraged Severus. She was playing with fire, and she had no idea how quickly it could consume her. He stalked towards her, his eyes blazing, stopping only an arm's length away from the girl.

"I suggest you be very careful with your words, Miss Evans," Severus sneered, the muscles in his jaw clenching. "I have secrets, yes, but they are not the same kind of secrets Lupin keeps. What did he tell you, then?"

"Professor Lupin didn't mention you once." her eyes flashed, golden in the firelight. "I wouldn't betray your trust like that — not ever. I went to him looking for something I knew you wouldn't help me with."

It took everything in Severus not to lash out at the girl then, to make her pay for her insolence, but he refused to give her the satisfaction she was so clearly seeking. She wanted a reaction, a confrontation. Instead, Severus schooled his features into a calm mask.

"I see." he drawled out the words, letting the silence stretch between them for a few beats. "And did you find what you were looking for?"

She nodded. Nothing more. Nothing but the firelight dancing in her eyes and the gentle heave of her chest. Severus watched as a deep sadness crept into the girl's eyes. Something inside of him twisted, like a rusted cog finally turning after years of disuse.

When her head snapped back up, Miss Evans was gone.

The girl in front of Dumbledore's fireplace remained, the girl who had stood with such determination and resolve as deep as mile-deep ice. Her eyes were wet with tears, yet her expression was one of determined detachment. Her body seemed to crackle with an unseen energy, as if a fire inside of her had been stoked to its highest flame.

"Where's your Pensive?" her voice was flat. When she finally met his eyes, her gaze was glassy and distant.

Occlumency. She was Occluding from him — purposefully. She was hiding something she didn't want him to see, not in her thoughts or in her face. Severus reached for her, but she moved quickly, flinging open drawers and cabinets, some with her magic, others with her hands. At first, Severus was too stunned to react, but as the seconds ticked on and she continued her search for his Pensive, Severus' shock shifted to fury. He quickly grabbed her wrist, wrenching it back until she spun around to face him.

"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" he snarled, the heat of his anger radiating off him in waves. "You have no right to go rummaging through my possessions like a common thief!"

She met his glare with a cold, unyielding stare. "I need to see," she said simply.

Severus was livid. His rage —

(and terror, what did she know what did she know)

— churned his insides like a turbulent sea, and yet her words were spoken with such indifference that he felt as though he was the one being ridiculed. He released her wrist and stepped back, struggling to reign in his temper, but the girl he'd become so familiar with, the girl he'd held so close to his withered heart slipped away, he could see it — her face was now a mask, devoid of any emotion. It was a face he'd seen only once before. That night, two years ago, when she'd stood in front of him and begged him not to burn Lily's letter.

"What do you need to see?" he asked, in a voice like liquid nitrogen.

Miss Evans stood her ground despite the intensity of his glare and tone. Her black eyes were unyielding, just like his own, as they locked onto his.

Just as Severus was about to speak again, she said five words that sent a jolt straight down Severus' spine.

"Were you a Death Eater?"

Severus felt like a boulder sinking into the bottom of a pond, the darkness surrounding him as the light dissipated, until all that remained with the faintest glimmer, a memory, a hope, and her face was so —

It signaled something coming, something Severus had feared — a thunderhead approaching.

"Mum mentioned it in the letter, didn't she?" her voice was smooth as tempered glass, still and even, but it trembled around the edges, so precariously close to shattering. "I never knew what it meant, but Sirius Black was a Death Eater, and knew I'd heard that term somewhere before. Mum Obliviated you because you were working for Voldemort, weren't you? That's why I'm your dirty little secret, isn't it? It's why you were so angry all the time when you found out."

Her face crumpled. Severus found himself wanting to reach out and smooth her tears away, but he kept himself still. Instead, he stood in silence, letting the heaviness of the truth fill the air between them like a physical weight until the seconds stretched into an eternity. His own shame was a living, breathing thing trapped inside of him, threatening to suffocate him if he let even a whisper of it escape. He was frozen, on the brink of the dark abyss of his past, of everything he'd done, unable to move or speak.

"Tell me it's not true." the girl's voice was a dull roar in his head. "Tell me I'm wrong — that I'm not remembering Mum's letter right. Let me look at the memory —"

The girl broke off with a sob. Her Occlumency was slipping — she couldn't hold it back, not this. The weight would crush her. It would crush Severus, too, if he did not keep his Shields high, keep the cracks filled, let them take the brunt of it —

But none of it mattered anymore. It all slipped away, the guilt, the shame, the dark he'd kept hidden like a treasure locked in a chest so deep that no one would ever know, not even his daughter —

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Miss Evans shouted at him.

Not for the first time in his life, Severus' heart felt nothing more than an empty shell. He was powerless, standing there in the face of his daughter's agony, detached and indifferent as the truth began to tear the girl apart like a violent wind ripping a tree from its roots.

"Dad," she whispered, her voice breaking.

That splintered the remaining grip Severus had on himself. He saw the girl he had tried so desperately to keep at arm's length as a thousand emotions fought for dominance within him, but he could not let them out. He could not let himself be vulnerable, not now. No — he had tried — he had —

"I warned you," was all Severus said.

A/N: and that's why you don't join a genocidal cult, everyone!

on a serious note; it needed to happen. there will be so chilliness the next few chapters, but what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and to help soften the crushing blow of that last bit, they will be all the more stronger after this. we'll be jumping to the beginning of year 3 next time. (Ron & Hermione, we miss you!)

I hope you enjoyed! reviews would be loved and appreciate 3