Ariel caught Hermione giving her a strange look from across the room while she braided Ginny's hair.

"How in Merlin's name are you reading that before bed?" Hermione shook her head. Ginny winced as she pulled the braid too tight.

Hermione was referring to Moste Potente Potions. She had put a Shrinking Charm on it when Snape had caught them and tucked it into a secret compartment in her bag and Ariel had been scouring it all evening. She didn't know what half this stuff even was, but she was pretty sure that the potion she was reading about now let you switch body parts with someone else.

Ginny, on the other hand, had been a mess since Mrs Norris had been found — Ron had told them she was a huge cat lover and that all the first years were scared out of their mind, so keeping an eye on Ginny hadn't seemed like a bad idea since Ariel had last spoken to her. She was still a little bothered by the conversation, if she was being honest, but she was attempting to let it go in light of the circumstances. It seemed best to keep a close eye on Ginny anyways, especially if her brothers were just going to write it off as homesickness. The only one who seemed concerned enough was Percy, but Ariel knew he was holding back, afraid she would reflect poorly on him as Prefect.

"Because it's cool — you like to read all of Lockhart's books about vampires and ghouls." Ariel sniggered as Hermione turned bright red.

"Different," Hermione shook her head, but she was biting back a smile.

"Way different." Lavender called from the bathroom. "I do the same thing — I imagine him rescuing me from one of those hideous creatures and I'm out like a light."

"Really?" Ariel rolled her eyes as she looked over at Lavender's bed. She had a collage of Lockharts decorating the walls, dozens of them waving and smiling, showing off spells and outfits. It made Ariel a little dizzy if she stared for too long. "I had no idea."

"What're you doing with it?" Ginny jerked her head at Ariel's illegal-potions-book.

Ariel and Hermione shared a look — they couldn't tell anyone, not even Ginny. If any of the professors got wind, it would be their funeral. Ariel and Ron were still on thin ice after the car, anyway.

"Just some extra-credit for Snape." Ariel lied, shutting the book with a snap. "Since my potions are sub-par."

Hermione gave her a You Stop That Right Now glower as Ginny scooted off the bed.

"Wait, Ginny, the left side looks a little loose." Hermione called after her, but she was already at the door.

"It doesn't matter — night," Ginny said in a funny sort of voice, like she'd meant to say something else instead.

Ariel shook her head as she left, wondering what in Merlin's name was going on with her. Maybe she and Hermione needed to have a firmer talk with Ron about it… or maybe it'd be better to go straight to Percy, but Percy was insufferable and ignored Ariel by association.

Lavender climbed onto Parvati's bed and drew the curtains — Wednesday nights were when they read the gossip column from Witch's Weekly out loud and tried to guess what trends would be out by next week. Hermione had lost it on them a few weeks back when she'd been trying to sleep, and they'd decided that anything yellow simply had to go — at one o'clock in the morning.

Hermione looked at Ariel.

Ariel looked at Hermione.

It was time to plan.

Ariel practically catapulted into Hermione's four-poster and drew the curtains as well, casting a quick Muffliato. Snape had taught it to her over the summer — she hadn't been able to cast it, but she knew the incantation and the wand movements. She would tell him that she'd done it successfully the next time she saw him.

"Alright, I've made a list —" Hermione began, but Ariel cut her off.

"First things first — the book stays up here, in our room." Ariel warned. "If someone finds out we have it, Snape will take so many points that Gryffindor will start in the negatives next year."

Hermione nodded. "Agreed — now the problem is figuring out where we can brew without getting caught."

"Well, we definitely need somewhere Snape won't be suspicious of." Ariel pondered this for a moment, struggling to come up with a location where the potion wouldn't be messed it… or found. The problem with Snape was that he thought that Everyone, Everywhere, at Every Second of Every Day, was up to something. Ariel, unfortunately, was his first suspect.

… Which was part of the reason she had the coin. Ariel groaned and fell against Hermione's pillows. "This is going to be impossible… the coin will give us away the second we start."

Hermione frowned. "You can't leave it behind?"

"If I start doing that then he'll really know we're breaking the rules."

"Alright…" her eyebrows furrowed together. "So then, how do you want to do this?"

"We'll take shifts — you during the day, me at night." she paused, a thought coming over her. "We can use Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. A girl's loo isn't too suspicious."

Hermione was shaking her head before Ariel even finished. "You shouldn't go anywhere alone after dark —"

"If Slytherin's monster really is out there, he's not coming after me." Ariel grabbed her hand tightly. "I'm not taking any chances — besides, I have the Cloak, and if Snape sees me using the girl's loo before going down to see him —"

"Why would you be going to see him that late?"

"Oh — right. I forgot to tell you… he gave me access to his quarters." Ariel looked down at her sheets, clearing her throat awkwardly. "He says I can use them whenever… mostly for emergencies, but he did this weird spell on my hand and now I have the keys to the kingdom, or something."

Hermione blinked. "That's… brilliant."

"Yeah… maybe."

"You aren't happy about it?"

She shrugged. "I am, I just wish he was."

There was that Knowing Look again — the reason Ariel didn't talk to Hermione about Snape. Something had changed after their big argument last year, and for some unfathomable reason, Ariel was okay not knowing what. The look in Hermione's eyes pulled at Ariel, a fear and desperation in them she didn't want to touch with a ten-foot pole. Snape was a horrid bully, but that was all he was —

Hermione, in the meantime, had opened the book up to the Polyjuice recipe. "This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen…"

"The good news is we can get most of the ingredients from the student cupboard," Ariel pointed towards the bottom of the list. "It's these two I'm going to have to steal — boomslang skin and the bicorn horn."

She frowned. "You shouldn't have to be the one to do it."

Ariel tried to ignore the way her stomach lurched. She'd go up against a million Quirrell-Morts instead of Snape finding out she'd stolen from him… especially after he'd given her access to his private quarters…

"What else can we do?" she asked weakly, stomach in knots. "I don't like it either…"

Hermione's expression set in grim determination — the same look she got when, on the rare occasion, she was having trouble executing something in class. "We'll find a different way."

"No, Hermione —"

"A way that won't involve you." she finished. "Ron and I will handle it."

It was at times like these when Ariel really wished Quirrell-Mort hadn't broken her friendship bracelet. It would've been glowing gold right now — gratitude, shining from every piece of her.

"Besides," Hermione went on. "We don't need those ingredients until later. The first two weeks are mostly waiting, adding in the basics here and there. It's making sure we do everything at the right time that'll be tricky… especially if anyone gets suspicious."

"Maybe we'll get lucky," Ariel sighed, staring up at their vaulted ceiling. "Maybe Malfoy will get knocked off his broom at the game tomorrow."

The first Quidditch match had everyone scurrying out of bed earlier than usual the next morning, eager to scarf down breakfast and head over to the pitch. It was Gryffindor and Slytherin today, and while Ariel had very little interest in Quidditch, she was quite eager to see Slytherin get a beatdown. Fred and George had been talking strategy all week — they felt this match was personal after Draco had called Hermione a Mudblood (and Cursing Ron, but the second one was just tacked on, sometimes).

Ariel put on three layers, feeling like a walking marshmallow before meeting Ron downstairs. They huddled together and debriefed Ron on the plan, who went green at the mention that he would be responsible for breaking into Snape's storeroom.

"Blimey, you two," Ron shook his head. "Don't you think this might be a little too risky?"

"I think Muggleborns being attacked is worse, don't you?" Hermione snapped back.

He gaped at her. "No one's comparing here!"

"Good," she sniffed, and crawled out of the Portrait hole. "Then we're all in agreement."

"And what about you?" Ron nudged Ariel's shoulder. "You're okay with this?"

She shrugged. "It's just two ingredients… although if Snape figures it out and I go missing, you'll know what happened."

Ron laughed nervously as they sat down with the rest of their House, seemingly the last ones there that morning. Ariel glanced up at the High Table, surprised to see that Snape was the only professor not here yet. It was Slytherin's first game of the season — normally he'd be going around talking to the team members, like Professor McGonagall was doing now with Gryffindor. Ariel had no idea what they talked about — maybe they were wishing them luck, maybe they were talking strategy — but it seemed unlike him as a Head of House not to be here.

Ariel quickly checked the coin — Private Quarters. What was he still doing in his rooms?

Seamus had pulled Ron into some sort of betting pool he'd started — something about the likelihood of Malfoy falling off his broom — while Hermione had received a letter from her parents. She seemed pretty engrossed in it, so Ariel sat down beside Ginny, who had her head buried in her arms, oblivious to the chaos around her.

"Ginny —" Ariel touched her shoulder gently. She shot up, like she'd had a nasty shock, knocking over Ariel's goblet full of pumpkin juice.

"Sorry — here, just take mine." Ginny mumbled, sliding over her goblet to Ariel before storming out of the Great Hall.

Ariel watched her go and wondered if she should go after her, but she was quickly surrounded by even more Weasleys.

"Evans, my lass," George slung an arm around her shoulder, tossing an apple between hands, directly in front of her face. "Let's talk about your next entrepreneurial opportunity."

She snorted into her pumpkin juice. "I've decided to retire, thanks."

"Nonsense!" he shook his head. "This is only the beginning —"

George held up both his hands, mimicking a scale. "It's this, or," he looked to his other hand. "you could waste your talents and be condemned to becoming Snape's apprentice, who we've heard murders the unlucky bloke at the end of term in order to avoid being usurped."

Ariel's eyebrows hit her forehead. "Snape has an apprentice?"

"He only takes one every three years." George said. "Pretty sure you start with him in fifth year — goes all the way until you graduate, but it's always a Slytherin that gets it."

"Besides, your Pepper-Ups were a huge hit," Fred drummed his hands on the table like he was beating a snare drum. "Other very eager students —"

"— with galleons they've got nothing to do with —"

"Have been asking for more from our supplier." Fred poked her in the arm. "That's you, baby."

Ariel crossed her arms, finishing off what was left in her goblet. "Fine — I'll bite. I don't need the money, but if it's helping people out…"

"A saint in the making," George offered his hands to the clouds hanging above them, misting slightly. "You'll get a cut, of course —"

"I just said I don't need the money —"

"This isn't indentured servitude," Fred scoffed. "Of course you're getting paid."

Ariel gave a frustrated little sigh. "Fine. But only because you're making me. What're we talking about here, anyway? Nothing illegal, I hope. Besides, I'm not that good."

A strange tingling took hold in her stomach and the back of her throat. George handed her a list, but everything had slowed down, the edges of her vision shimmering. Alarmed, Ariel tried to stand, only to find that she couldn't feel her feet. She wasn't frightened by this until she looked over at Hermione, whose face had a look of fresh panic.

"What's wrong?" she asked, reaching towards her. "Your lips are turning blue."

They are? Ariel wanted to ask, but her voice had gone, along with the feeling in her hands. She looked down at them as Fred gave her shoulder a shake, but something was coming from way down deep, way down below. It was sucking her into blackness —

"Can you hear me?" Fred was asking. "Hey, Evans, look at me —"

And then she felt herself falling — falling down down down —

Severus was late that morning, but he didn't care very much until he heard the din ringing all the way from the Great Hall to the bottom of the stairway in the dungeons. It wasn't good form, to not be present on days where major House events were taking place, but Severus had run into some unexpected issues with the potion he was brewing for Miss Evans. He'd been up since two, frantically trying to stabilize it, and hadn't felt reassured that it was safe until about fifteen minutes prior.

It would be Draco's first game as Seeker. Lucius would undoubtedly be here, and Severus was eager to probe him for more information about the Chamber. He could give a fuck about Quidditch, but he would at least be comforted in the fact that Slytherin's monster couldn't attack the girl in the stands.

The girl also couldn't get into trouble if she was watching a game of Quidditch.

It's me you want, yeah?

Come and get me

— Well, he knew at the very least that she would be safe from Cursed Bludgers. If anything else happened, Severus would make sure Miss Evans had a lifelong ban on Quidditch. Anything more than two incidents at the pitch was two too many. Fucking stupid game —

The potion nearly being ruined in the middle of the night had Severus in a fouler mood than usual. He was even more annoyed to not have passed any students on his way to the Great Hall, more than eager to dock a few points to fuel his disgruntlement. Severus felt his fingers pass over the pocket watch and gave it a quick glance.

Great Hall — good. At least the girl had the sense to not go sneaking off again. If Severus found her in that hallway again, he'd make Slytherin's monster look like a kneazle.

As he rounded the corner, he almost ran straight into a wall of children. There was an enormous crowd surrounding the doorway, the excited chittering Severus had been hearing only minutes ago now a nervous murmur. He glanced at the High Table, the other staff members rushing down, but there was a sizable crowd on their side too, and Severus didn't have time to wait.

He knew, almost immediately, that this had something to do with Miss Evans.

"Move!" Severus boomed, and the students parted like the Red Sea. When he saw what they were all gawking at, he felt his insides freeze. They shriveled up in his sternum, his breathing suddenly heavy — every inhale hurt as he stared for what felt like an eternity.

Miss Evans, white as bone, her head cradled in Granger's lap. Lockhart was standing over her, his wand raised —

Severus didn't even think about it — he saw his hand move, as if its own volition, and Lockhart went flying into Slytherin's table with a satisfying crack and a bolt of crimson that exploded from the end of his wand.

Some of the students cheered while others let out shrieks of horror. Severus barely heard them, his hearing suddenly muffled, like he was underwater. All he could focus on was the girl's motionless face, her lips blue and head limp. Even some of the color in her hair seemed to have faded — it was the color of crushed fall leaves, dead and decaying.

Granger's face was streaked with tears as she looked up at him. "Please sir, I don't think she's breathing…"

Ariel fell, farther and farther, until she wasn't. A light appeared, glowing like a lantern just above her head. She tried to move but found she couldn't. There was a pain in her chest, so great that she was pretty sure someone had turned her inside out, like the potion.

Someone appeared above her head, blocking out the light — no — she was the light — her red hair almost golden —

"Don't move," Mum hummed, her voice like honey. "Don't darling, it's almost over."

Ariel wanted to get closer, she wanted to talk to her. Mum pressed a hand over hers, linking their fingers together. If Ariel could have, she would've stayed there forever.

"Listen," Mum whispered. Her other hand smoothed her hair back, away from her face.

Tell me what to do dammit

Mum shushed her, her hand warm and real. Ariel still couldn't move.

"It hurts," Ariel whimpered.

"I know."

I know — fight it

She realized the pain was in her lungs — she wasn't breathing. Her insides felt like molten lead, burning, and brandishing at her skin.

Come on, dammit

Ariel knew what she meant — she took in a big gulp of air, choking as the air pierced through her like a razor.

Mum smiled, and it was the brightest light yet, filling her up up up —

"Poisoned?" Minerva repeated, her voice rattling around the edges. The word pinged around Severus' skull like a bullet in a metal crate. Poisoned poisoned poisoned —

"A paralytic." Pomfrey replied, her voice coarse and uneven. "The dosage she ingested was enough to kill a grown man twice. Her organs shut down one by one."

Severus did not turn. He counted the girl's breaths — he was up to two-hundred and five. His Shields were so high that he didn't even feel like a human anymore. He wondered, distantly, if this was how the Dark Lord had felt, hollowed, and withered, a void of pure nothingness, but even in this pointless state, Severus did not feel the urge to murder or pillage or rape. No, the Dark Lord was not a husk, like Severus was.

There was a tense silence from behind him. It was only Pomfrey, Minerva, and Dumbledore, but they spoke in hushed, quiet voices. There was a hoard of children outside chittering amongst themselves worriedly. For once, Severus did not blame them.

Minerva gave a quick little gasp, and Severus pictured her hand going over her heart. "How could this have happened?"

The same person who wrote that message on the wall, Severus wanted to scream, but he was counting — two hundred and sixteen —

"We've tested the food she had this morning, and it came back clean," Pomfrey said, her voice low. "It must have been something she drank."

She's not breathing —

Two hundred and twenty —

"I would begin questioning the students immediately." Dumbledore said grimly. Severus had resolved to not speak to him until the girl was conscious. Pomfrey had said she was out of the woods, but Severus wouldn't believe anything until that girl opened her eyes.

She would wake up — she was alright, now. She was —

not breathing —

"Of course," Minerva murmured, sounding deeply disturbed. "I'll start with Mr Weasley and Miss Granger."

"Do not allow them in here," Pomfrey said sharply. "Miss Evans needs time to heal — the paralysis has not completely worn off."

Please sir, I don't think she's breathing — that was what Granger had said, and when Severus had leaned over to feel her pulse, there had been none. The girl had been gone for three minutes and seventeen seconds. When he lifted her into his arms and her head rested against his shoulder, he felt nothing. She'd been a husk, like he was now. He had reached down below and gone away —

Two hundred and thirty-three — two hundred and thirty-four —

"No, they shouldn't see her like this." Minerva agreed. Above Miss Evans head, lights pulsed and twinkled, showing her vitals. They hadn't been there when Severus had brought her to Pomfrey. There had been nothing — he had brought Pomfrey nothing, and they had brought Miss Evans back from it.

Nothing — that was what Severus felt now. Nothing. Miss Evans pictured an ocean to relax — that was what Severus used — but now it was dessert. Endless and dead, devoid of life. Dark. Empty.

Two hundred and forty —

When she'd finally taken a gasping breath — Severus couldn't even recall what he and Poppy had done to revive the girl — everything had come back. His terror, his guilt, his rage was everywhere, all consuming. Poppy had told him to go, to let her work and he'd lost his fucking mind. The girl, crying out in pain — it hurts —

There was someone standing behind him. Severus' spacial awareness had not gone, but his eyes did not leave the girl. They wouldn't until she woke up.

Dumbledore gave a heavy sigh, like he had held it in for a millennium. His withered hand wrapped around his shoulder. "Severus…"

He shook him off violently. From the corridor, he could still hear Granger weeping. If Pomfrey didn't quiet her, Severus was going to cram a Calming Draught down her throat himself.

Two hundred and forty-eight —

"She will make a full recovery; Poppy has assured me."

Two hundred and forty-nine –

She'd smiled at him just yesterday and said, Because I'm your kid.

Severus gripped the side of the chair like a lifeline. He was counting. The girl was alive, and he was counting her breaths, but there was a time when he hadn't.

There was someone breathing in the castle who had done this.

Two hundred and –

Two hundred and –

Two hundred –

"Whatever putrid, predatory worm did this," Severus rasped through his bared teeth. "I am going to take them apart piece by piece."

And they would keep coming for her. It would not end – it would be endless, fighting off people, husks like Severus, who wanted a twelve-year-old girl dead.

Dumbledore did not answer, but he placed his hand back on his shoulder, light as a feather.

Severus steeled himself and began counting again.

One –

When Ariel opened her eyes, everything hurt. She had a distant memory of the pain being far worse, but she was still pretty uncomfortable. There had been a dream of falling into endless blackness, and her mum…

She rubbed the grit from her eyes blearily, wincing as she propped herself up on her elbows. Her muscles all felt like they were made of taffy, soft and stretchy. She actually fell back a few times before she gritted her teeth and pushed herself forward, groaning.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness around her, she realized she wasn't in her dormitory. She was in the Hospital Wing — what the heck —

"You're awake," a deep voice rumbled to her right.

Ariel squinted and tried to make out the shape in the chair towards the end of the bed. It took her a minute to realize it was Snape, submerged in darkness, slouched down so low in the chair that if Ariel hadn't known any better, she might've thought he'd dozed off.

She groaned again and tried to sit up. "What happened? How did I get here?"

"You don't recall?" his voice was ice, brittle and cold.

Ariel shook her head. "No… not really. I remember breakfast… everything's sort of fuzzy."

Snape stood, coming into the dim light that flickered every few seconds beside her cot. He looked terrible, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, hair disheveled and greasy. His skin was the color of sour milk. She shifted uncomfortably, sensing that something pretty bad must've happened for him to be looking like that. She hadn't been Petrified, had she?

"How long have I —" Ariel began, but he cut her off.

"Two days, give or take. You were poisoned at breakfast on Saturday morning." he said stiffly, like he was discussing bothersome incoming weather.

Ariel blinked at him. "I — what?"

"Your body went into shock," he'd started mixing something with a bit too much force — the stirring rod he was using sounded like it was about to become a flying projectile. "You lost control of your extremities before your vital organs followed suit."

"Is that why I feel —"

His head was the only part of his body that turned to stare at her "Feel like what?"

"Sore," Ariel tried to stretch, wincing at the tension in her shoulders and arms. "My throat kind of hurts too…"

"I had to shove a Bezoar down your throat." Snape said flatly. "The pain will fade in time."

Her mouth clamped shut at this. That… didn't sound good. And Snape was acting bloody weird — or rather, weirder than usual. She was poisoned? By who — how —

Ariel struggled to try and remember if anyone had given her anything strange, but she couldn't even remember what she'd had for breakfast. Her brain started to hurt as she fought to recall anything – Fred and George and something about potions… the Quidditch match… had she made it to the pitch? She didn't think so… there was nothing after following Ron into the Great Hall…

"Do you think you can drink this?" Snape asked, his voice hollow, a void of nothing but indifference.

Snape handed her the vial and she took it with unsteady hands. He helped her tilt it back, but the second it hit her throat she gagged, coughing and sputtering.

He started to take it away, but Ariel shook her head. "No, I can do it —"

"I can spell it into your stomach." Snape pointed his wand at her. "Effusio."

Her stomach gave a wild jerk and Ariel jumped, covering her mouth, afraid she was about to be sick. She could feel the potion pooling in her gut – it was a… not nice feeling. After a few seconds, though, she could feel some of the soreness beginning to fade, her muscles relaxing.

"Thanks," Ariel began to say, but Snape was pulling back the covers.

He tapped her toes with his wand. "Can you feel this?"

She nodded jerkily. "Yes,"

"Does it feel normal?"

"A little prickly, but normal, yeah."

His eyes narrowed. "Explain."

"Like pins and needles almost… just a little, though."

He grabbed her hands next, his long fingers inspecting her own, turning them over several times before letting his wand trace lightly over them. Little sparks of blue flew up, hitting her in the face but it didn't hurt. She watched Snape, his face set in deep concentration until he placed his hand against her chest and pushed her back against the pillows.

"What can you remember?" he asked, his back to her again while she glared at him, annoyed.

Ariel shook her head and struggled to picture the Great Hall. "Not much… nothing suspicious if that's what you're asking."

"No one offered you food or drink? Nothing tasted unusual?"

"No – no, I don't think so, but I honestly can't remember for certain."

He leaned over the potion's cart, his back arched and shoulders hunched. Ariel could hear his breathing, uneven and labored, like he'd just run a marathon.

"Are you okay?" Ariel eyed him warily. He looked like he was about to keel over and die any second now, but Snape also looked like he would flip Death off and tell him to come back later.

She yelped when his hand came down, smashing the vial against the cart. The tray everything sat on wobbled, and instead of steadying it, Snape's hand rose and collided into the rest of the glassware, shards spilling onto the floor with a deafening crash. Pieces of glass exploded everywhere, coating the tray and floor and even the end of Ariel's bed.

His hand had a huge gash in it, blood dripped onto the floor. She threw back the covers, wincing as she reached for her wand on the side table, but it wasn't there.

"Snape?" she whispered, her voice shaking. "You're bleeding…"

"Worry about yourself for fucking once, Miss Evans." his voice rose with every word, like a kettle about to boil over. "For once in your goddamn life, think about yourself."

She bristled, sitting up straighter. "But I'm fine —"

"You were very nearly not." he turned, gripping the railing at the end of her bed. His face thundered with fury. "You were very nearly nothing at all, in fact."

Ariel studied him carefully. She didn't want to fight, but she didn't deserve to be yelled at for asking if he was okay (which he very clearly was not). "You saved me, though."

His eyes went glassy – almost unfocused. "And yet you want more from me?"

Her stomach sank. "What are you talking about?"

"You have no idea what will come for you if anyone was to even have a suspicion that you were my child." Snape sneered. "This is child's play compared to what the Dark Lord and his followers can do to you – because of me."

She blinked in shock a few times before collecting herself. Where was this coming from? What did this have to do with being bloody poisoned? "I have a pretty good idea." Ariel argued, her voice thick but steady. "Don't you think? I don't know what it was like during the war, but I was the one who Quirrell took last year, remember?"

Snape flinched, like she'd brandished a whip before his face hardened. "The Dark Lord was barely human, and he still came dangerously close to killing you."

"And I still survived." Ariel shot back. "I won."

Snape seemed to split open, then, the cold, emotionless facade cracking away and giving way to something that hurt to look at, but frightened Ariel enough that she could not tear her eyes from his face. She wondered, then, if this is what he had warned her of – if this why Mum had left.

"You stupid girl," he began dangerously, his voice shaking with rage. "Do you even know what your life means?"

"To me?" Ariel demanded. "Or to you? What are you so afraid of?"

His eyes blazed like hot coals. "It is you that should be afraid. You have no comprehension of what being my daughter could do — of what your mother did. You won? No, girl, your mother won. She defeated the Dark Lord – for you."

Ariel felt like she had been doused in ice water. Her chest felt like it was going to cave in, but she fought through it and met his eyes evenly. She wondered, as she stared at him, cutting through the menace, what had happened to make him so terrified, but now wasn't the time to ask. He would only pull away, and she didn't want that. She needed him.

"I'm not her, you know." she said quietly. "I'm not going to die on you. Or are you afraid that you'll die protecting me, too?"

Snape made a dismissive, agitated noise under his breath. "That's not what this is about."

"Isn't it?" Ariel tucked her hands underneath her arms – they were shaking badly. "You're mad because – why? Someone poisoned me. Okay, yes, that's a problem, but I'm not scared!"

He squared his jaw with an audible click. "My promise was to keep you safe — this is only the beginning."

"I don't want safe – it doesn't matter if I'm alone."

The smoldering fury washed away like rain, streaking down his face until it was wiped clean. Ariel thought that would've just made him angrier, but he actually stumbled back a few steps, as though she'd shot a Stunner at him — she wished she had. Her chest felt like it had been filled up with rocks.

She threw her pillow at him instead of a Stunner — he caught it midair and then incinerated it wordlessly.

"So don't tell me that I would be better off without you," she fought the painful lump in her throat. "because the truth is… I'd just be more scared."

Ariel thought he would sneer or laugh at her — a Gryffindor admitting she was fearful — but he didn't. He didn't move at all. After several long moments of absolutely nothing, not even so much as blinking, Ariel was afraid that maybe she'd broken him, somehow.

Ariel quietly edged herself from the cot and over to his side. If he noticed her, he didn't let on.

Something shifted in her, something changed in how she looked at him. That grief she'd seen in his eyes after Quirrell… the way he'd looked at Mum in the memory was there now, only Ariel could see how desperately he was trying to push it down beneath the mask of his Occlumency. She had suspected, but never seen until now that this is what Snape was like when he wasn't… hiding.

Ariel did the only thing she thought she could do.

She hugged him. He smelt terrible, like he hadn't had a shower in days, but Ariel didn't care.

His breathing shuddered. One of his arms curled tightly around her shoulders, his other hand holding her cheek. He still would not meet her imploring eyes, his own staring off into the distance, somewhere far, far away.

"What is it going to take?" Snape murmured finally. "You ridiculously, foolish girl…"

His hand moved from her cheek to the top of her head, stroking her hair. Ariel stayed perfectly still and counted his breaths, letting it lull her back to sleep, free of darkness or memories or light. It was nothing, but it felt… peaceful.

Ariel did not feel when he carried her back to the bed and sat beside her, his head in his hands.

Ariel slept on and off for another two days, waking to take more potions Snape and Madam Pomfrey gave her and attempting to eat. By the end of the fourth day, Snape begrudgingly let her try something that looked like gruel but tasted like a paper towel. Ariel didn't question it — her stomach hurt so bad that she was pretty sure if she went one more day, it would start eating itself.

Snape came and went but he always returned at nightfall and sat at her bedside until dawn. Madam Pomfrey refused to let any visitors in, but they sent baskets of gifts – mostly sweets and bottles of pumpkin juice, but Snape had gotten rid of it all, insisting that it wasn't safe. He wouldn't even let her touch the stuff from Ron or Hermione, who she heard at the Hospital Wing doors at least five times a day, begging to be let in. Even Ginny had stopped by a few times, practically in tears, until Ariel had heard Percy arrive to take her back to her dormitory.

She was awoken in the middle of the night to voices. Ginny was right — the mattresses were bloody awful here – and for a moment, Ariel thought that was what had awoken her until she recognized the soft murmur of Dumbledore's voice. Ariel shot up like a rocket to find Snape's chair empty and someone else whispering.

"What happened?" it was Madam Pomfrey, who sounded much kinder than she had the past few days.

Snape had been bickering with her constantly, until she'd threatened to have him thrown out if he couldn't let her do her job. Ariel had thought she was very brave for doing that – Snape had said some very unkind remarks to Madam Pomfrey before returning with Dumbledore, who had told Snape the same thing Madam Pomfrey had in a much kinder way. Ariel's ears had started to blister, after that.

Ariel strained to hear a response – she could barely make out Dumbledore's voice but caught the end of the sentence: "– trying to sneak up here to visit Miss Evans."

She really wasn't supposed to be up walking, but she threw the covers off, her heart in her throat. Before she could rip back the curtain, Snape was there, blocking her path.

"Hermione —" her body seized with terror. "Hermione —"

"It's not Miss Granger," Snape said sharply. "Bed – now."

Her entire body sagged with relief. "Who — who is it, then?"

"Not your concern." he said coolly. "Get – in – the – bed."

"Let her come, Severus." Dumbledore's voice called. "She deserves to know."

Snape's jaw set in a way that told Ariel he was going to let her by over his cooling corpse. She tried to shove her way through, but his hand shot out and caught her, pulling her back behind the curtain.

"I will put you in a Body Bind." he warned in a dangerous voice.

"I was just paralyzed." Ariel poked him in the ribs. "That's pretty insensitive."

Snape glared wildly down at her. When he turned his head to answer Dumbledore himself, Ariel crouched down and forced herself through the opening between his legs and into the rest of the infirmary.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw who was on the cot. It was Colin Creevey, eyes wide and unstaring. Ariel felt a cold shiver slide down her spine as she looked up into the face of all the adults, who looked just as worried.

"I'm glad to see you feeling better, dear girl." Dumbledore gave her a ghost of a smile, but his eyes were still deeply troubled.

"Thank you, sir." she bowed her head. "Me too."

Professor McGonagall gave her shoulder a pat and a reassuring squeeze. Ariel got the feeling it was as much to comfort her as it was herself.

"Petrified?" Ariel asked. She reached out to touch Colin's hand. It was stiff and cold.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered solemnly. "I found him on the stairs. I shudder to know what would have happened if I hadn't come when I had…"

"That's enough," Snape said stiffly from behind her, pulling her away. "She's seen enough, Albus. Christ, you don't need to paint the girl a picture."

Ariel was secretly grateful to be pulled away, unable to tear her eyes from Colin's frozen face.

"Who could have done this?" Professor McGonagall asked quietly as Snape ushered her back behind the curtain.

"The question is not who, the question is how…"

Snape cast a Silencing Spell and uncorked a bottle of Dreamless Sleep. He handed it to her wordlessly and fell into his usual spot, looking completely knackered.

"When's the last time you slept?" Ariel asked, swirling the potion around in the glass.

He rubbed his eyes with the ends of his fingers. He still looked like a zombie. "I have more important things to do."

"Like interrogating my pumpkin juice?" she asked jokingly, but the way his eyebrows furrowed told her that it was far too soon be teasing him about this.

He just stared at her – not angrily or indifferently – but like he was deep in thought. Ariel drank the Dreamless Sleep and stared at Snape as she drifted off.

The last thought she had was if Colin felt what she had – bottomless nothing.

She didn't know if she wanted the answer.

A/N: And she's still got to go down to that freaking Chamber after this! UGH.

If it wasn't super clear, this is in place of the rogue Bludger incident, which I did last year. I didn't know how to make it not identical since this happens to Harry twice, somehow. Having Ariel get poisoned also seemed more fitting, since her dad is the Potions Master and she's illegally making some on the side. Tom knows neither of this, which makes it kind of funny, in a fucked-up way.

The line "So don't tell me that I would be safer without you!" is from the Last of Us. I think I mentioned a while back Ellie was a huge inspo for Ariel and that line felt so right to place here - Joel and Snape have a lot in common, being afraid of loss.

Some highlights: We hit the 30th chapter AND 200k words! AHHHH

Thank you to literally everyone for your support and love on the story. It means more than you can ever know. 3 Until next time!