Ariel felt only minutely better in the coming days. She tried to put the incident with the Dementors behind her, but it was like an itch she couldn't scratch, gnawing at the back of her mind every time she was alone with her thoughts.

Snape's solution had been Occlumency. It had always been Occlumency, but Ariel found herself taking it more seriously, desperate for a reprieve. It was much more difficult to control now than she had been able to a year ago. With Snape in her head, Ariel was afraid of him seeing things she'd rather keep to herself. He never probed, though, never pushed through the slight resistance she put up, only observed as she let herself sink into the calm blue of her ocean, letting the water cleanse her of her thoughts and fears. Sometimes, as Ariel would go under, she would stop, afraid she wouldn't be able to come back up, but Snape's hand would stay on hers, a well done whispered in her ear once she'd resurfaced, echoing in her mind.

It had allowed Ariel to sleep brokenly through the night, feeling better as the days passed by in large scoops, hours passing by seemingly unaccounted for. Dumbledore had returned from searching for Black, ensuring that the Dementors stayed a suitable distance from the school (and from Ariel). A haze seemed to have enveloped the school regardless, thick fog trailing the ground like tendrils, leaving behind a coldness that settled into Ariel's bones. Snape still wouldn't let her outside on the grounds, but he took her for long walks around the castle. Sometimes, they turned in history lessons Hermione would've killed for.

The room the castle had made for her had no window, but Ariel had created her own kind of night-light, a moon tucked into the far corner of her bedroom that glowed. It pulsed lightly in the dark as she lay there one night, awoken by the tinges of that terrible memory, of a bright green light that flooded her vision.

Instead of going back to sleep, Ariel decided to go and talk to Snape. She'd been debating it, but she positively hated the feeling of helplessness the Dementors had forced on her. With the rest of the summer looking rather bleak until Hermione and Ron showed up… Ariel had a lot of time on her hands.

Ariel found Snape brewing the potion he'd given her for Christmas. She recognized the silver liquid, like he'd taken stars and melted them down. Even as Ariel squinted, she could've sworn that the cauldron was glowing, emitting its own source of light that didn't come from the fire crackling underneath.

Snape only shook his head at her while she hopped onto a bench to watch. They sat in companionable silence while Snape worked, and Ariel let her thoughts wander.

She was still nervous to try the potion again after the last few times. Even after the Chamber, she'd attempted to use it only to find that instead of that marvelous inner light, the magic seared through her heart like a brand.

"The Charm you use, the one that'll get rid of Dementors, what's it called?" Ariel asked in a quiet voice.

Snape gave a slight head tilt but did not take his eyes off the potion. "The Patronus Charm."

"Is it… hard to learn?"

He stopped to look at her. She felt a blush rush to her cheeks as he stared, scrutinizing her in a way she couldn't read. Sometimes, when they practiced her Occlumency, she wondered if she pushed back and into his mind what she would find — how deep his ocean went, how cold and dark he made it so that he could hide so very well.

"It is deeply complex magic, beyond NEWT level." Snape stopped stirring. "Most wizards and witches are never able to cast one in their lifetime."

"Can — can you?"

He gave her a dense look, his face even more sallow from the light of the cauldron. His eyes flickered down pointedly.

Ariel turned as red as her hair. "Right — sorry." she muttered. "Do you think I could learn it?"

The hand of the ladle seemed to almost spasm, but Snape had no other reaction. "You can certainly try," he said in a light voice, like he was trying to be condescending, but it wasn't — it was something else. Ariel wondered why he couldn't just talk like a normal person.

She bristled, nonetheless. "What's that mean?"

Snape's eyes flicked back to the cauldron and a moment of silence passed before he spoke in a low voice. "It means that the Charm requires immense focus and determination. Given your track record so far, I'm afraid you lack the necessary components."

The room fell silent, save for the bubbling of the potion. Ariel bit her lip, trying to swallow her frustration. "Tell me what to do, then." she might as well have commanded — she didn't want to leave any room for him to tell her to sod off.

"Research." Snape said, almost automatically. "You must come to your own understanding first before I can offer any assistance. The Charm is specific to every Caster."

"So, if I do, will you help me?"

Snape's eyes flicked over to her, and there was a moment where Ariel thought she saw something there — maybe hesitation or uncertainty. But then his face hardened once again, and he spoke in a clipped voice. "If you do," he said. "then I will consider it."

Ariel nodded, clenching her fists at her sides. She knew that dealing with Snape was like navigating a minefield — one wrong step, and the whole thing would blow up in her face. But she didn't have any other choice — she needed to learn this Charm. Ariel had very few memories of Mum, and she was not about to let her screams while she was being murdered be one of them.

She hesitated before asking her next question. "The Patronus — is there any backlash?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"If you can't do it, I mean."

He seemed intrigued by her question — that was a first. "Aside from the fact that the approaching Dementor would suck your soul from your body, it is heavily theorized that only those pure of heart could cast successfully."

Ariel felt herself stiffen. "How do you know if you are?"

"You must rely on a singular, happy memory when casting, and true happiness cannot derive from others' suffering."

She could do that. She wasn't a psychopath, like Voldemort. He probably would've thought of the memory of shoving her down the tunnel and into the table, watching her face smash into the bones and make himself feel like a kid on Christmas.

Ariel must've had a look on her face because Snape sighed. "I don't think you'll encounter that problem, Miss Evans."

She bit her lip and nodded. "I know… does that mean even if you're super powerful, you can't do it?"

He rolled his eyes. "Define 'super powerful.'"

"Like… Voldemort level, I guess." a knot formed in her stomach for giving him any sort of compliment, but he'd managed to stick himself on the back of a bloke's head like a thumbtack and put his past self into a diary — he might've been the biggest git to ever live, but he was powerful.

Snape nodded, the flinch at the sound of his name just barely detectable. "The Dark Lord's followers are incapable of casting one. Alternatively, most wielders of Light magic cannot cast the Killing Curse."

Shivering, she knocked her knees together. "So they're two extremes? Could someone theoretically cast both?"

"It depends on the witch or wizard. It is possible — but uncommon. Most wizards don't find themselves in need of either."

Ariel contemplated this. She wanted to ask Snape if he could do both, but she didn't want to ask him about killing someone. That didn't seem like the kind of thing you just blurted out — even if they were your dad. She knew he'd fought in the War —

A funny little feeling, like a tickle, tugged at her insides, then. Something she was missing, something she hadn't thought of, but —

"I hate feeling like this." Ariel muttered. "I hate that they took something from me."

Snape stopped what he was doing to stare at her, his lips tightening in a thin line.

"Professor," it still felt weird to call him that — she hadn't dared to call him Dad like she had thought in the Chamber for fear that his head might explode (or worse, that he'd dismiss it). "Why did I faint? You mentioned it's not… normal."

He paused for half a beat. "The more traumatic the memory, the greater the effect."

"Even… even if I didn't remember before?"

He nodded again, wordlessly. She could see the weight her words were having on him, bending the curve of his spine, like they were suffocating him.

"I — I used to have dreams about it, I think." Ariel's tongue felt thick in her mouth, but she had to get it out, cleanse herself of this thing that lived her the darkest pieces of her heart. "During First year — Mum — there was a green light —"

Snape dropped the ladle into the potion. He swore under his breath while Ariel jumped up, wringing her hands together as he banished the brew, his lip curling in anger as the flames extinguished themselves.

"Sorry," she said quietly. "I shouldn't —"

"It's not your fault, Miss Evans." he rubbed at his temple.

"I didn't mean —"

"I know you didn't." Snape's voice was surprisingly… soft. Almost understanding, if that were a thing he was capable of. "I should have waited till morning."

Something glowed around her heart — it felt like the remnants of the Charm. Ariel bit her lip, ducking her head as Snape waved his hand, the vials and other supplies flying back to their respective shelves. He dimmed the candles and motioned for him to follow him out, back into the still darkness of Snape's quarters.

Ariel started towards her bedroom door when one of the books on Snape's shelves came flying off and into his waiting hand. He held it out to her, the dim light making his eyes glitter like hot coals.

She took it gingerly — it was heavy, the edges of the pages laded with what looked like gold flecks. There was no title of the hardened cover, withered and worn. When she opened it, she found a suspicious looking stain on the inside that Ariel tried to tell herself was definitely not blood.

"If you're not going to sleep, read this." Snape tapped his index finger against the top of the page Ariel had opened up to.

"Expecto Patronum," she read. "I await a guardian. What does the guardian look like?"

"It's unique to each individual, but it normally takes the form of some sort of animal. The Headmaster's is a phoenix."

"Fawkes," Ariel smiled. "What's yours?"

A strange light passed through his eyes. Instead of answering her question, he jerked his head in the direction of her bedroom. "The book will help. It attempts to describe the nature of joy."

"I think I'll try and sleep, actually." Ariel closed the book, tucking it under her arm. "Thank you, though. I'll start it tomorrow."

"Do you require assistance?"

"I'd… I'd like to try on my own if that's alright."

Snape gave a short nod. She could've sworn there was a flash of something else — satisfaction, maybe? "Goodnight, then."

"Night," Ariel said softly, shuffling away and into her bedroom, lingering in the doorway until she heard Snape's bedroom door shut as well. Inside, she tossed the book onto her desk and grabbed her wand, scattering stars across her ceiling. She smiled to herself, climbing into bed, and thinking of the potion. The stars inside of it — or what looked like stars — reminded her of the doe that had found her First Year.

the wanderer weary, full of fear

As she lay there, she wondered if she would be able to cast a Patronus if she had broken one already.

Remus met Albus at the gates of Hogwarts on a damp, cold day in August. He approached them with an overwhelming sense of both nostalgia that hit him like a punch to the jaw, and dread. The dread was likely courtesy of the Dementors, which was why Albus was meeting him.

He didn't have much, just a trunk and a very old, very worn duffel bag. The trunk was mostly filled with books and the duffel bag was filled with everything else Remus thought he would need. In actuality, Remus had felt quite unprepared, the feeling growing as he trekked up the path from Hogsmeade to the castle.

The feeling was aided and abetted by the fact that he was going to tell Albus about Sirius. The guilt sat in the pit of his stomach, churning, and roiling with shame the more time that had passed. Remus must have started a dozen or so letters to Albus confessing what he knew, what he knew would keep the baby safe, but he found himself unable to send every single one.

Albus was waiting by the gates, wearing robes of gold and bronze. He looked like a trophy, sparkling even in the gloomy shadows that covered the sky. Remus shivered, drawing his cloak tighter around him as it began to drizzle. Albus smiled as he greeted Remus, extending his arm and giving him a firm shake before taking his hand in his, just as he had in the pub.

"I am very glad you are here, my friend. I thank you again for agreeing to help."

Tell him, tell him now —

"It's my pleasure," Remus smiled. "Happy to be here."

Albus beamed, and they began to walk in tandem. "I hope your journey wasn't too arduous."

"It was nice to stretch my legs and do a bit of traveling, truth be told." Remus admitted. "I did some briefly after — after everything, but —"

That was another lie — another lie, Remus, another thing to bury another thing to harbor. He'd all but disappeared from the wizarding world for three years after James and Lily's death.

Tell him tell him tell him before Sirius gets to the baby —

Albus only gazed at him wistfully, as if he already knew the secrets of Remus' heart. "That is one of the greater regrets of my life… that I did not see more, that I did not look beyond Hogwarts… but I can't deny that it has called to me in a way I don't think I will ever fully understand."

"I'd imagine it's hard when you have," Remus gestured to the striking Forest around them, the beauty of undisturbed nature and unbound magic. "This."

He chuckled. "Yes, well, I do often say that I have the whole world right here."

Remus felt something wrench and swell in his heart. Lily had said the same thing about the baby —

Tell him do it now tell him you wretched coward, tell him for Lily tell him for James —

He could not force the confession past his barricaded heart, still shattered from betrayal. It was almost as though the shards had created a barrier, matters of the heart colliding with the clarity of the mind. Remus knew Sirius had done it — that he'd killed them all — but there was something gnawing away, gnawing at the shards that pulsed through him like an undertow.

Just tell him, gods, just spit it out already —

"Will it just be us for the time being?" Remus asked casually.

"For now, it is only Severus, Hagrid, and myself."

Remus stopped walking. "Severus — as in Snape? Severus Snape?"

Albus stopped as well, his smile deeply understanding. "Indeed. I'm sure it's been a while since you've last seen one another."

It had. Remus hadn't seen Snape since school, but they all — James, Sirius, Peter, and himself — suspected that Snape had joined the Death Eaters. That's what James had theorized anyway, but he'd never brought it up around Lily. Sometimes, Remus had caught her scouring the newspapers for the lists of newly identified Death Eaters who had been captured or killed. Lily never said who she was looking for, but Remus knew it had been Snape. She'd always worn this look of sick worry that quickly dissolved into relief. James had started hiding the newspaper towards the end of the pregnancy, afraid the stress would be bad for the baby.

"It has," Remus inclined his head. "I'm just surprised, is all. I'm sure he's absolutely elated about my being here."

"He did have some very strong words to say about you." Albus agreed. "Then again, I'd imagine Severus has very strong words to say about most folk."

"What does he teach?"

"Potions."

Oh, Merlin and Morgana. "That means he's —"

"Yes," Albus said lightly. "But you'll have no issues with that, I assure you."

"Well, still, it would be no surprise if I'm poisoned before the Curse does me in."

Albus laughed. "He understands the gravity of the situation and is more than capable of putting aside old grudges."

Remus' lips twitched. "The question is — will he?"

Albus only smiled.

Ariel spent most of her time in the coming days in the library looking up Dementors and the Patronus Charm. She'd even written to Hermione to ask if she knew any good books on them. The last letter she'd written to her had filled Hermione in on everything that had transpired — Black, staying at Hogwarts, the Dementors. She hadn't mentioned the fainting or screaming part, though.

Hermione had sent Ariel a copy of Jane Eyre to keep her occupied, in the meantime, while Hermione did her own research, promising to write soon with anything and everything she found. Ariel had never read Jane Eyre before, but Aunt Petunia had — she'd read it for her book club, which she never actually read for, only skimming a few pages before leaving. She'd always come home a little tipsy, after those meetings, unbalanced and her tongue sharper.

Snape had kicked Ariel out of his quarters earlier than usual that morning. He'd made the excuse that there were ingredients he didn't want her around (which told Ariel that he didn't want her identifying whatever Super-Secret Potion he was brewing) and so she'd spent the morning sprawled across two library tables she'd shoved together, taking notes. She was thankful Madam Pince wasn't here. Otherwise, she would've just about had a stroke, seeing the mess Ariel had made in a very short time.

Ariel had managed to glean some interesting points, only she had no idea what the heck they meant or how they helped her cast a Charm. The book Snape had given her had said that true joy could be acquired by Subjugation and Endurance — only those two things together were the surest way of cultivating joy in one's life.

Her notes were a jumbled mess. She went over them for the twentieth time, trying to rewrite what she'd already jotted down. Her notes looked something like this:

Subjugation

Fall into line with whatever life throws at me, no matter how difficult or confusing it might seem

Embrace the really shitty parts, like Voldemort bad parts and make something good out of it

Endurance

Willing always give oneself over completely without question even though giving up seems easier/better

You should never quit just because something doesn't feel right Snape would disagree

Sometimes answers come after a while

Perseverance is held tight against the chaos ?

Only thing that matters in life is joy

Is there a difference between joy and happiness?

Ariel stared at the paper and buried her face in her arms. This was all stuff that sounded great, in theory, but she didn't think anyone actually did this kind of thing. It sort of read like Occlumency, only instead of burying, you were accepting.

With a defeated sigh, she flipped through the next couple of pages, skimming in. She was about a hundred pages in and felt like she hadn't learned a damn thing. The book hadn't even talked about the Charm itself yet, or wand movements or what it looked like. It just —

She flipped the page to see the words Chapter One staring up at her.

That had just been the PREFACE?

Snape must've been having her on because this was the worst book Ariel had ever read. It didn't make a lick of sense, and if it made sense to Snape, there must've been something seriously wrong with how his brain worked to understand this nonsense. How did Hermione do this? And she did this for fun?

Scrubbing her face, Ariel prayed that Hermione had way more luck than she was and snapped the book shut, shoving it away from her. She glared at it for a good while until she pulled it back towards her and flipped it back open to Chapter 1, Snape's words echoing through her mind:

I will consider it

She didn't get why he was so reluctant to teach her. Ariel's grades were always high — she liked to learn, she just was impatient about certain aspects, like research. She didn't understand why she had to spend all this time mulling over dusty, snooty books when Snape could just show her the Charm. Although, he had been… strange about it.

Ariel let her eyes roam across the page, not really reading, just thinking. She tried to do what the book was saying, tried to take the memory of her mum and — she didn't know what — accept it? She'd had no choice but to accept it — she'd had no choice to accept any of it —

She slammed the book shut again, her breathing heavy and uneven. Her heartbeat pulsed in her throat and Ariel closed her eyes, gripping the table with her fingernails, grounding herself to the grain of the wood and the stillness of the library, the hum of magic as some of the books shuffled themselves around. The hum turned into a gentle swell, her ocean a steady pulse of ripples as the coolness washed over her, drowning out the heat of her anger and the burn of her heart. Ariel smiled to herself, eager to tell Snape that she'd managed it on her own for the first time in what felt like forever.

When Ariel opened her eyes, she noticed that there was a man walking around, perusing through the aisle to the left over her.

Her heart gave a startled jolt, nearly knocking her back in her chair until she went very still, watching closely. He had his back to her, so he hadn't noticed her yet, but he definitely wasn't one of the professors back early from holiday.

She felt the coin in her pocket and bit her lip. She was about to call for Snape when the man turned, a look of surprise on his face as he caught sight of her. They stared at each other for what felt like forever but was actually probably only a few seconds. The man seemed as badly startled to see her as Ariel had been to see him.

Unless… this was the new Defense professor that Snape mentioned? Well, not mentioned, she'd heard Professor Dumbledore talking with Snape about it before a Silencing Charm had gone up. Those were becoming more and more common these days.

He wore shabby robes that seemed to have stitches in quite a few places, his light-brown hair flecked with gray, matching his eyes, even though he didn't look very old. There were dark circles under his eyes, like bruises, and a scar just below his left eyebrow.

The startled look dissipated with a smile. His face held a gentle warmness that felt… strangely familiar.

Ariel gripped the coin harder but did not call. Instead, she cleared her throat, her voice a pitch higher than normal. "Er — hello."

The man had a book tucked under his arm as he made his way over to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

"You didn't," Ariel lied. "I was just surprised, is all. It's been just me for a while."

"I would have thought the same. Remus Lupin," he extended a hand to her, and she took in gingerly. "I'll be your Defense professor this year."

Ariel felt her chest release in relief. He noticed that his gaze lingered on her scar, and she blushed. She'd considered growing bangs to hide it from people, hating how it was the first thing everyone looked at.

"Nice to meet you," Ariel shook his hand. "Ariel Evans."

The man smiled at her, a smile that didn't entirely reach his tired, gray eyes. "The pleasure is all mine."

She was about to remark that he really should have been the one to have been taken off guard, but quickly backtracked when she realized that he must have known why she was here before everyone else, locked inside the castle.

"What're you looking for?" she asked, shifting awkwardly.

"Just a bit of light reading," he noticed that her eyes had fallen on the book he was holding — The Art Of Teaching Defensive Magic: A Comprehensive Guide On Learning The Ancient Wisdom And Unlocking Magical Abilities Through Dedicated Practice And Education and chuckled. "Well, I guess it would depend on what you consider light."

"It does look pretty… dense. And wordy."

Professor Lupin smiled again, the corners of his gray eyes crinkling ever-so-slightly. "I'm afraid I've got only a few weeks to conjure up a curriculum for you all. I've been told you've had a rather lopsided education thus far."

Ariel shrugged. "You could say that."

"Your last professor was Gileroy Lockhart." Professor Lupin raised an eyebrow before continuing. "A rather unique individual, I've heard, with an even more unique approach to teaching."

The corners of Ariel's mouth twitched. "You could say that, though I wouldn't call what he did teaching."

Professor Lupin chuckled and Ariel felt herself doing the same, although Professor Lupin's sounded like it had more exhaustion in it than anything else. It faded away quickly. "I take it you weren't too fond."

"Well, he was a fraud, so… no."

Professor Lupin's face twitched in amusement at Ariel's frankness. "I see. Well, I assure you that I don't claim to have saved entire towns from vampires or ghouls."

"That's a relief." Ariel said, with only a hint of mischief in her voice. "I think we'd all like a properly boring Defense class, after last year."

"Boring? Well, I shall do my best." Professor Lupin smiled at her, and for a while they just stood there in comfortable silence. Ariel couldn't help but feel the strange familiarity that seemed to surround him, like a scent of something she had smelled before, but could not quite place.

His eyes flickered to the mess of books scattered across the table, eyebrows just about hitting his forehead when he caught sight of the titles. "The Patronus Charm?"

Ariel ducked her head. "Yeah… it's my summer project, I guess."

He cocked his head curiously. "That's a tricky one, I must say. Any particular reason?"

how far back can they make you remember

I heard a woman screaming

why did I hear her like that

what dies doesn't necessarily stay dead

Mudblood mother

She swallowed roughly, biting down the sinking feeling in her chest. "None at all."

"Ah, well, you won't have any luck with those." Professor Lupin shook his head. "I'm surprised your brain has melted out of your ears yet."

"I think I'm getting there." Ariel offered him a tentative smile.

"If you'll allow me, there's much more… comprehensible literature on the subject you might find easier to understand."

Ariel blinked. "I — yes, that'd be brilliant."

Professor Lupin titled his head, his gray eyes suddenly bright, like Snape's potion. "I'll see what I can conjure up."

Severus found himself dragging through the process of brewing the Wolfsbane.

The werewolf was due to arrive soon — not that Severus thought Dumbledore would've given the courtesy of telling him when Lupin would darken Hogwarts' halls, but he'd brewed an experimental batch of the Wolfsbane that morning just in case. It wasn't a complicated brew, but it was still technically theoretical in its intended application and had not undergone the peer study Severus would have expected on a potion that promised much. There simply wasn't enough data collected on the effects — especially long term — seeing as the aconite was effectively poisoning the individual ingesting it to quell the wolf.

Well, he didn't care if Lupin drank one sip and dropped dead. Severus was doing his fucking job, which was to make sure Lupin didn't kill anyone. He could care less if there were other issues that arose along the way — he'd done his part. He'd do it until he exposed Lupin for the fraud he was, the fraud he knew — Black Black Black —

The girl walked through the door, then, looking breathless and lighter. Suspicious, Severus put a Stasis Charm on the potion, put out his cigarette, and stalked out of his classroom and into his quarters.

"Where have you been?" he demanded. "You're supposed to check in with me every other hour."

"I went to visit Hedwig — sorry." she gave a breathless little laugh as she hung her cloak beside the door. "I brought treats for her and ended up getting swarmed."

"And prior to that?" Severus asked curtly, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

"I was doing research in the library," Miss Evans gave him a pointed look. "Like I told you I was."

He gave her a skeptical look over. She scuttled over to her desk in her room, where her meals waited for her. The house elves had made her a sandwich, which she picked up and brought back into his quarters, sliding along the wooden floor in her socks.

She stopped mid-chew and made a face.

"Merlin, what is that smell?" she coughed and Severus Vanished the fumes. If Black didn't murder the girl, Lupin's fucking potion would. "It's just awful — what is it?"

"An annoying potion for an annoying person."

She paused, halfway through seating herself in her usual spot, getting crumbs everywhere. "You're not talking about me, are you?"

"For once, no." he glowered at her. "Stop talking before you choke."

Miss Evans rolled her eyes at him and finished, Summoning her rucksack, which she'd left directly in front of the door. Severus massaged his temple forcefully, counting backwards from ten as he tried to banish the feeling that he'd just allowed a tornado into his rooms. Sometimes, when Miss Evans forgot herself, Severus was reminded that she was still only a child, and even a child that was his would not be spared to the oblivious absurdity of how she acted, sometimes.

Even so, it did not irk Severus too greatly. He sighed, mulling through his own desk for the notes he'd taken earlier when the girl's rucksack fell to the floor with a thud.

"I met the new Defense professor." she said.

Severus' head snapped up immediately, his dark eyes narrowing. "Excuse me?"

"Just before — he was in the library." Miss Evans said it so casually, so offhandedly, so childlike and unassuming —

Something broke — something small that cracked with a clink.

"And you spoke to him?" Severus asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "He introduced himself?"

The girl nodded, hesitation creeping into her face — it would turn into regret. "Yes, he said his name was —"

"I know his name," Severus snapped back. "What else did he say?"

Miss Evans frowned deeply. "Nothing much, just that he was doing some research before he had to teach. He was helpful," she offered, as if this mattered. Goddamn motherfucking werewolf.

Severus felt his skin crawl with rage. "Helpful how?"

"He gave me some books on the Patronus Charm."

He felt his jaw clench. "Did he now?"

That was it — lure her in, lure her into safety, make her believe he had her best interests at heart, and then when the moment was right — just like Black, exactly like Black, Black had been his —

Severus could feel his teeth grinding together, the tension radiating down to his neck. He had to remind himself, again, that the girl was still a child, and she had no idea what she'd stumbled into. Dumbledore had forbidden him from divulging anything about Lupin's condition to Miss Evans, but he had given Severus no other orders —

no other warnings —

no other restrictions.

He shoved his mutinous rage behind his Shields, letting it fade until it was a dull burn in the back of his mind. Shoving his desk drawers close with more force than necessary, he rubbed at his face tiredly before glaring back at the girl.

Miss Evans was sitting up pin-straight, watching him like a hawk. Of course the girl was displeased with him — she was always displeased when he expressed concern over her well-being.

"Come here, Miss Evans," he said, his voice deceptively soft.

She did not move. Her dark eyes were fixed over him like a rabbit about to bolt. She'd been antsy these past few days, her nights broken into jagged pieces of reprieve and restlessness. There had been a certain level of assuredness she'd clung to with him, staying close to him.

He would not let Lupin change that. He would not let Lupin influence what was his.

Severus stalked towards Miss Evans and knelt down in front of her. Her eyes widened as he grabbed her chin. "Do you trust me?"

The girl stared at him, her lips trembling. Severus could feel his heart squeezing in his chest and he closed his eyes for a moment before looking back into her face. She swallowed and nodded firmly.

"More than anyone."

He had the strangest feeling then, like the floor had given out underneath him, his stomach dropping. Before he said something completely nonsensical, he stood up and roughly kissed the top of her head. He would not look at her face.

"Lupin is not what he seems," he said in a cold voice, so cold and cutting. "Keep your distance."

Severus did not look at Miss Evans again as he left the room.

Remus fixed himself a cup of tea when he returned to his quarters, wishing it was something stronger.

Ariel was no longer a baby. That's what they'd always called her — the baby. The last time Remus had seen her had been just before her first birthday. They'd all gone to see them to say goodbye before Lily and James had gone into hiding — before Sirius had killed them.

She looked exactly like Lily and yet… didn't. The eyes certainly weren't hers, dark and intense and hesitant. Those same eyes had used to widen in recognition when Remus would come by to visit. Now, they held only wariness and a sadness that Remus couldn't quite place but understood all too well.

The hair and face were exactly the same, though. She wrinkled her nose when she heard something she didn't like, but almost as though she didn't know she was doing it. Lily had been incapable of hiding her true feelings, an open book in just about any situation.

Remus had struggled to find any of James and couldn't, sinking his stomach like an anchor giving way. He had expected this little amalgam of two people he'd known and loved and… found only remnants of one. It broke his heart a bit, but not in the way he would've expected. It broke to know how James and Lily would've reacted, knowing their daughter had grown up not knowing all of their love.

Everyone had been convinced that Ariel was going to be a boy. Lily hadn't done the Charm to see, insisting that she'd wanted it to be a surprise until around the six-month mark, when the panic had really begun to set in for her and James. They'd settled on Harry for a boy — they'd been calling the baby a he the whole time — but argued for hours on end about names once they'd realized it was going to be a little girl.

Lily had originally gone through just about every flower to keep up with her family tradition — Holly, Hyacinth, Heather. Lily had liked Holly, but James hadn't — how are you going to name a baby Holly that isn't born at Christmas?

There had been about a week stretch where Lily had decided she'd liked Clover, but that had quickly dissolved into pure loathing of the name when Sirius had declared he'd call her Lucky as a nickname.

At nine months was when the War had taken a turn for the worse. Voldemort had zeroed in on a safe house harboring refugees that had turned sides and slaughtered the lot of them, taking the rest as hostages. They'd all been called away to arms — all except Lily — who had been on bedrest for the final month. The night she'd gone into labor, they were all gone, returning to find Lily in the bathtub, legs and chest smeared with blood, and a little bundle in her arms. James had been beside himself, but Lily and the baby had been fine, for the most part, or as fine as they could be.

She'd already named her — Ariel. They'd all wondered where in Merlin's name the name had come from, but Lily would just smile down at the baby, like she had the whole world in her arms, and tell them that she had named herself.

Sirius hadn't liked it, had thought it was too much of a mouthful.

And then Sirius killed them all.

He wasn't supposed to have been Ariel's godfather, either. Lily had wanted Remus, had told him privately when she'd first learned she was pregnant. It had been a whirlwind few months after James and Lily had learned they were going to be parents after a drunken one-night stand that had turned into a reconciliation. James never talked about it, but the engagement had been quick, the wedding even shorter and in secret, all before Lily hit her second trimester.

They'd gone with Sirius because they'd been afraid that Remus wouldn't get custody, because of his condition. Sirius had never talked about the possibility, but James had always emphasized —

Padfoot, if something happens, you need to know where everything is —

I'm not having this fucking conversation with you. Nothing is going to happen. You lot are going to be fine and you're going to feel real bloody stupid when ten years from now you think about all this — Christ, why would you even think that —

Why would you even think that — why would you even think that —

Remus did not move for a very long time. His tea turned cold.

He wondered what she would need use of a Patronus for, but with the Dementors lurking outside —

Remus could only imagine.

The light faded from the outside, but the memory inside of his heart did not.

Lupin came the following day, just as Severus had expected.

It was a shame that werewolves were immune to Veritaserum, otherwise, Severus would have had Lupin out of the castle and far away from the girl within the hour. Regrettably, there were a wide variety of more… persuasive methods that were also untraceable that Lupin was resistant to, leaving Severus on a heightened sense of alert.

He'd almost forgotten what this hatred felt like. The ichor of loathing that coursed through his veins when he thought about Lupin was something else entirely. He supposed this was what Black might feel like — the girl just out of reach, something he wanted, something he wanted to destroy but couldn't, the thought slowly eating away at your sanity for years and years until you could stand it no longer —

After Lily had assimilated into Potter's group, Lupin had become Severus' replacement. She had never been able to keep a close group of girlfriends, unable to handle the catfights and gossip and fuck-all attitudes that plagued teenagers. Potter and Black had a parasitic relationship, feeding off one another, feeding into each other's inherent shittiness. Lupin and Pettigrew had always been onlookers — never participants — but just as dangerous. Severus supposed that was why Lily had gravitated to Lupin. Pettigrew had possessed the emotional depth of a houseplant, and while Lupin was a two-faced shitbag, Severus would have guessed that he had been the easiest to stomach.

He did not share the sentiment as his Wards alerted him that someone had entered the classroom. Miss Evans was tucked inside of her bedroom — she'd been steadily trying to cast the Patronus Charm for the better part of an hour. He knew this because he'd placed motion-detecting Charms on the room, mostly to ensure that she'd actually been sleeping.

The girl hadn't mentioned that she'd wanted to attempt casting a Patronus to Severus, but he supposed that girl was trying to prove something to herself.

I hear a woman screaming —

No no no force it down down down —

"Severus?" Lupin's voice felt like fingernails against Severus' skull. "Are you here?"

"If I say no, will you leave?" he called back, bored already. Lupin's fake pleasantries had always been exhausting.

The door, already slightly ajar, courtesy of Miss Evans, opened. Lupin looked truly awful; the years having chipped away at him in a way that made Severus smile inwardly. He looked like he was approaching his mid-forties, dark circles under his eyes and messy, silver-streaked hair that was dull and lifeless. His robes looked like something a Pureblood family would spit on.

Despite all this, he wore a smile that made Severus want to hurtle furniture at him. Gods, he hated him — hated what he knew — hated what he was hiding.

"I hope I'm not intruding —" Lupin began, shoving his hands awkwardly into his pockets. He was uncomfortable — good.

"You are," Severus drawled. "But when has that ever stopped you?"

Lupin smiled. "I see you haven't lost any of your charisma, Severus."

Severus wanted to peel off that fake-smile with his fingernails. "What do you want, Lupin?"

Lupin's smile didn't waver. "I'm told you'll be brewing the Wolfsbane for me," he said casually as if they were at a tea party. "Albus mentioned that I should speak with you to coordinate when doses should be taken."

"I don't give a damn when you take it as long as I'm not forced to cram it down your throat."

He leaned forward on his heels, swaying. "I don't think it'll have to come to that. Thank you, by the way, for doing this. I'm not sure if Albus mentioned it, but I am incredibly grateful. It's nearly impossible to get your hands on it, and even if I could, the price —"

"Stop hiding behind Albus' suggestions and get to the goddamn point."

"The next full moon is the week after next." Lupin said, in that tone of politeness that made Severus consider ripping out his vocal cords. "Will there be a batch ready by then, or should I make other arrangements?"

"It will be ready by then," Severus said in a clipped tone.

Lupin gave a smile filled to the brim with relief. "That's good to hear. Thank you —"

Severus cut him off. "Don't thank me yet, Lupin. You know the risks of taking this potion too late or missing a dose entirely."

"I'm aware. It's nice to see a light at the end of the tunnel, regardless." Lupin smiled.

"That was probably a train. Next time, don't move."

Lupin took that as a good enough sign it was time to leave and stood, giving a slight bow. "Always a pleasure, Severus."

"Get out." Get fucked, get hit by a fucking train —

He paused just outside the door. Severus smiled inwardly — good. He wouldn't have to call after him. Lupin's presence had roused a rage unlike anything he had ever experienced; a rage that he knew was only equaled by what Lupin had inside of him.

He would make it known just how short of a threshold he possessed when it came to this particular predicament. He would leave no room for doubt.

"Albus mentioned that Ariel was here." Lupin said it so casually, so offhandedly. Severus almost believed it was an afterthought — almost.

"She is," Severus said, his lips not moving.

Lupin's eyebrows furrowed. "She's staying with you, then?"

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "For the time being, yes. It wouldn't be needed if you simply told Dumbledore where Black is."

There it was, laying between them, like a sharpened sword. Severus prayed Lupin would be the first to swing.

Lupin's eyes flashed like a silver bullet. "I haven't the foggiest. If I did, I reckon we wouldn't be having this conversation right now, would we?"

Severus smirked, enjoying the way Lupin's anger seemed to ignite with every passing moment. "Perhaps, but I am not as forgetful as Dumbledore. I remember what you and Black were, and I have not forgotten. How convenient for the two of you — Black has escaped and you're at Hogwarts with Miss Evans. An extraordinary turn of events, is it not?"

"I suppose it is." he said, not breaking eye contact with Severus. "But I can assure you that my history with Black will only benefit Ariel. I took the position for her."

Severus felt something inside of him burn, burn brighter into the light of his heart, bringing it closer until it roiled wildly inside his chest.

"If you so much as look at Miss Evans the wrong way, I will make you regret it." Severus said, his voice low and sharp, like a razor hidden in velvet, resisting the urge to draw his wand. "And if you allow any harm to her — either directly or indirectly — you will answer to me, wolf. And I am not nearly as forgiving as Dumbledore. I will know it was you."

Lupin said nothing to this. He stared at Severus with an endless look of — it might have been disgust, or incredulity — but he simply shook his head and sighed. "I brought some books for her — she mentioned that she's trying to learn how to cast a Patronus. I've left them outside."

Severus glared mutinously, letting his hatred leak out of him, unbridled.

"She seemed… sad." Lupin said quietly. "I'm hoping they will help."

He left without another word.