Sixth year, Part 1

Skyrah couldn't spot Severus in the Great Hall, replete with students eager to chat with their friends after the summer break. When asked, his dorm mates told her they hadn't seen him, not even on the train. She was tempted to go to the Room of Requirement mid feast, her duties as a prefect be damned. Nevertheless, she stayed, guided the first-year Slytherins to the Common Room, explained the rules and what was expected of them, and handed a tissue to a homesick child. A group of first-years sniggered at him.

"We don't tolerate this kind of behavior amongst Slytherins," claimed Skyrah, glaring at the mean kids. "You'll soon learn that our House isn't well-seen by the rest. We only have each other. Together we're stronger. No Slytherin will make fun of another Slytherin, understood?"

Her stern tone got the children quiet. The sensitive boy looked up at Skyrah with a grateful, shy smile. It took all of Skyrah's willpower not to smile back at him. She suddenly wished, and not for the first time in her life, that she had a little sibling who looked at her like the first-year was now doing. Maybe she'd start believing there was good inside her.

No.

Her mother didn't love her father anymore, and her father wouldn't allow her mother to have a child with somebody else or by other means. I'd better stop fantasizing, Skyrah thought with resignation. Meanwhile, Mulciber was looking at her from afar with a look of respect and, some would say, adoration. Avery subtly elbowed him to make him stop.

"That's right. Slytherin is your family in this castle," added Rosier, the other prefect. He had to say something, or else, they'd think Skyrah was the leader. It was supposed to be teamwork.

Rosier guided the boys to their dorms while Skyrah did the same with the girls. She gave a few more instructions and left the first-year students to get acquainted with their new dorm mates.

Mulciber called Skyrah when he spotted her, before she could leave the Common Room in search of Severus. Since she didn't have the time to stay, she pretended not to have heard him and kept walking.

"Thank you."

That she couldn't pretend to miss. Mulciber wasn't the kind of boy who easily expressed gratitude, after all.

She stopped dead in her tracks and faced him. "I'm afraid you've lost me."

"You defended our kind, our House, and in doing so, you defended Marcus."

"That homesick boy…"

"–is my cousin. He's always been very close to my aunt and uncle. They asked me to look after him this year. I talked to him during the feast, but I couldn't comfort him. You did. Thank you."

At a loss for words, Skyrah gave him a curt nod.

The Room of Requirement had transfigured itself to mirror Severus's dorm.

There he was.

At first glance, he was okay. No limping. No blood traces on his uniform, bed, and floor.

She pulled her sleeves up and told Severus to take off his tie and shirt.

"Not even a 'hello'?" he asked with a boyish smile that did little to calm her.

"No time for greetings. You're injured." Realizing she'd been too harsh, she added, much softer, "Sorry. Is it so bad you can't remove your clothes? I'll use spells to remove them if so."

"By mid-August, I was already at the Malfoys. They looked after me."

She stared at him unblinkingly. "So you're physically okay?"

"Positive."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You got me worried ever since I got off the train! You haven't even shown up for the Sorting Ceremony!"

"I thought you'd be happy for me."

"You've just said the Malfoys looked after you. Your father hurt you anyway. I just wasn't there to help you."

"I can't be there for you when your father uses the cruciatus curse on you either... How have you been?"

"Oh, no, Severus. We aren't doing this. I came here because I thought you needed me to treat your injuries, not to talk."

"What if I need to talk to you?"

"Not in the mood. It happens to me when I discover someone's deceived me. Goodbye."

He caught her wrist. His hold was loose, allowing her to leave if she truly wanted to. "I'm sorry I worried you. I meant it when I said we need to talk. If not now, tell me when and where."

After a short pause, she sat beside him on the bed. If he needed to meet with her to talk about something important, she might as well stay. She made a gesture with her head to indicate he should start talking.

"On our last day of school last year, I told you I was a fool to think that you and I could be more than friends. You never said whether I was right or wrong to think that. I couldn't stop thinking about it this summer."

She hadn't stopped thinking about him, either, and how much she wished the marauders would leave him alone and Evans would realize what an idiot she was being for letting Severus go. She'd fallen asleep recalling his hand on her cheek and his lips molding against hers, and thought of him when her grandmother welcomed her home with a chocolate cake.

"We agreed not to get close," Skyrah reminded him. "The matter you wish to discuss doesn't help."

"I'd have agreed to anything if it'd meant keeping you in my life. The truth is that I'd like to be more than just the person you go to when you need comfort. Is it foolish of me to want that?"

One look at his hopeful face was all it took for her to confess, "If wanting more than our agreement makes you a fool, we're two fools."

He began to smile at the implications of her words. "So you also…"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does to me."

"We shouldn't be discussing this. Our agreement…"

"Didn't say we shouldn't be honest with each other. Nor does it stop me from hoping for more."

"I'm not worth hoping for."

"I disagree, especially now that I know for sure you'd like to have more than our agreement."

"What I want doesn't matter. I live in a cage. If you entered it, you'd never get out of it."

"I wouldn't have any reason to leave if I got to be with you."

"Can't you stop?! You don't know what you're talking about!"

Her change of attitude had been so abrupt his eyes rounded in shock. Someone who didn't know her would say she was furious by her closed fists and bared teeth. But he knew her. He saw her and the longing and pain she failed to hide from him.

"What did your Father do to you this summer, Skyrah?"

His soft tone undid her. Her lip quivered as she held back tears. She didn't tell him that Voldemort had found out she'd slapped a muggle-born. The slap hadn't been the problem. He'd approved of that. The problem had been it had happened in public and almost cost Skyrah her prefect badge. The cruciatus curse hadn't been directed to her but to her grandmother, who'd told Voldemort to fuck off and leave her family alone once and for all. Watching her grandmother writhe in pain was worse than being cursed herself. Her screams mixed with those of Skyrah and her mother. Voldemort didn't stop until Skyrah fell at his feet, apologizing for having disappointed him and promising to be a better daughter in the future. She'd received a final slap from him, the result of his displeasure with her tears, her weakness. As she and her mother tended the elderly witch, they'd reached the conclusion the only reason Voldemort hadn't killed Grandma Brighid was he liked inflicting pain on Skyrah. Hurting her family was an effective method to manipulate her. If he were to kill her grandmother, he wouldn't be able to use her as a weapon.

The family had been frightened for weeks after that day. Being under the cruciatus curse at an old age could accelerate dementia. Even though Skyrah's grandmother had never shown any signs, her family didn't stop worrying until the end of summer, when it became clear Brighid was as sane as ever.

Severus reached for Skyrah but stopped before actually touching her lest he scared her. She wasn't fine though. He had to do something. The first thing that came to mind was to distract her, so he told her the good parts of his summer. His mother had smiled at him when he told her his OWL results (something she never really did). The Malfoys had pampered him. He hadn't gone hungry (on the contrary, he'd struggled to finish some dishes). He'd flown on an expensive broomstick around their Manor under the starry night and had access to the rarest books about old magic. Lucius had taught him spells to catch the marauders unawares, and Narcissa had played the harp for him and Lucius.

At first, Skyrah'd frowned at him, not really understanding what his summer had to do with anything. She was observant, though. His intentions soon became evident, and her heart began to melt as she got lost in his voice.

"Narcissa showed me their garden and how to best take care of it. I discovered it is quite relaxing. I hope to have my own, someday." At present, it wouldn't be possible. Tobias wouldn't allow it: too girlie, he'd say, and destroy it all.

"I find it relaxing as well. When I feel down, breathing fresh air makes me feel good. My grandmother has a small garden full of rosebushes. She likes to give me roses from it." Talking about her grandmother hadn't been wise. She instantly remembered the terror. Her mind played a nasty trick on her, too, and pictured Severus in her grandmother's place, under the cruciatus curse. She needed to change the subject to stop thinking about it. "Have you tried talking to Evans today?"

"No. It'd be useless."

"Time helps see things with perspective. She might forgive you. She must miss you." I missed you.

He gave her a rueful grin. "Still intent on me getting her back because you want me to have a friend and you can't be mine? Lily was the only light in my life for years, but she didn't accept me as I am, unlike you. You believe you're dangerous and can bring only pain, but you can bring happiness, too. You make me happy." Skyrah was starting to feel overwhelmed. It must have shown on her face, for he added, "Are you okay? If not, you only need to ask, and I'll sneak into the Kitchens to bake you something with chocolate."

She let out a small chuckle.

"I love that sound."

"I love your smile," she replied, eyes on his mouth. It was the kind of smile only a selected few had ever seen, the kind she longed to kiss.

Faced with his eyes (full of anticipation) plus his lips (parted and so kissable), fear began to grip her. She leaped out of bed and turned his back on him before her heart's desire turned irresistible.

Skyrah didn't see Severus in the Great Hall during meal times on their first day of classes. He didn't come into the History classroom – she'd expected that. He must have left it aside the same way she'd done with Potions. Not seeing him in Defense and Transfiguration, however, raised the alarm in her. Her first thought was that the marauders had sent him to the Infirmary, only to find Madam Pomfrey had no patients as of yet. He wasn't by the tree near the Black Lake either. Nor was he in the library or Common Room. She asked his Slytherin friends.

"You asked the same question yesterday," mused Rosier.

"It's starting to look suspicious," followed Avery.

"We might start thinking you fancy him," added Mulciber, his voice tinted with jealousy.

Her tone and expression were passive with her occlumency when she replied, "As you may well know, last year I showed inappropriate behavior by slapping a student."

"That filthy mudblood deserved it," said Avery, wrinkling his nose.

"Regardless, I won't lose my badge. I promised the headmaster I'd be a better prefect. That includes making sure Slytherins are okay. Yesterday, he was missing. He hasn't gone to class today. It is my duty to find out what is going on so that I can still be your prefect. Professor Dumbledore won't forgive me again. Slytherins are my responsibility. I'd do the same for any of our Housemates."

The three boys exchanged looks. Her mother had always told her Tom Riddle was extremely persuasive. For once, Skyrah was happy she'd inherited something she could count as good or useful from him.

"He came to our dorm yesterday night, and he was there when we woke up. He arrived at the school safe and sound," assured Mulciber, his muscles unstiffening. "You needn't worry so much. Experimenting with potions and spells is his thing. He must have skived off and found a private spot to dedicate time to that."

"I should corroborate that. You know how those Gryffindors treat him. He could be in trouble anyway. I'll keep asking around."

"Before you go, there is something I must tell you," said Mulciber.

"Is it your cousin? Has he been made fun of again?"

"My dear cousin is okay, though he couldn't stop talking about you. I suspect he's developing a tiny crush on his prefect. Not that I blame him." He was getting close to her, so close to her that she could smell his cologne, the expensive kind. She preferred herbal and potion scents that lingered in Severus's skin, hair and robes. Avery and Rosier, having caught on his flirty tone, gave them some space. "Hogsmeade day is in two weeks. I thought you could use those few weeks to think about my question."

"What question?" she asked, though she feared exactly what the question was, and she wasn't wrong, as he soon confirmed. Skyrah regretted the cold tone she was about to use. It was true that she was fed up with his insistence, but it was also true that she didn't enjoy hurting his feelings. She simply couldn't show empathy for something like this. "I wasn't interested last year, and I'm not interested this year. I suggest that you stop insisting. It's getting tiresome."

He gave her a fake smile. His usual bravado was nowhere to be seen. "I've always liked it that you're so straightforward, even if right now it hurts. The reason I insisted was that I truly like you, and I wanted you to give me a chance. Now I see that my insistence was more annoying than charming. Are we still meeting after dinner to play chess, or are you fed up with me?"

"Will you flirt with me if we play?"

"And lose my only chance to spend time with you? No. Everyone sees money and influence when they look at me, everyone but you. You consider me a worthy chess rival. We learn from each other. With others, even those I call my mates, I have a role to play. With you, I can take a break and focus only on chess."

She could relate to that. Although chess wasn't a hobby of hers, she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the break it provided her. It was a moment she didn't feel so lonely.

She promised she'd meet him later and headed to the seventh floor.

The Room of Requirement was locked, which meant someone was occupying it. It must be Severus, she thought. She sat on the floor, with her back touching the wall in which the tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy was hung, opposite the entrance. There she waited, reading a book on Norse mythology to kill the time. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard her name.

"What are you doing here?" Severus asked her.

"Me? What are you doing here? Have you spent all day locked in the Room?"

"So what if I have?"

"I've spent all afternoon searching for you, worried sick." She closed the book and stood up. "What's brought this on? Is it about Evans? Did you talk to her? Did she say something that upset you or did she reject you or–"

"Or was having breakfast and laughing with Potter? You were right. She likes him more than she lets on. I wish she'd have fallen for somebody else. Anybody but that swine. He often blackmailed her, almost coercing her into having a date with him. He used me, said he'd stop bothering me if Lily said yes to him. He disgusts me. She deserves someone better. She never gave into him… until now."

"I don't know Evans well. From our few interactions, I gathered that she's strong-willed. Something must've happened."

He snorted. "Are you saying Potter's changed?"

"No, but maybe she believes that."

"I don't like it one bit. I'm worried about her, and I'm mad at her, for choosing Potter when she knows how much I've suffered because of him."

Skyrah wanted to reassure him that he was getting carried away, that he'd only seen them talking and laughing, not snogging, but it would be useless. Now that they were on friendly terms, it was only a matter of time until Lily and Potter became an item. Before she could tell him she was sorry he was going through this, he let out a low laugh that sounded anything but happy.

"And on top of that, there's you."

"Me?" she asked.

"Lily isn't the only reason I enclosed myself in the Room. You left without giving any kind of explanation. Did I do something wrong?"

"No! Did you think you did? Were you beating yourself up for—"

"Why did you leave so abruptly if I did nothing wrong?"

"If I'd stayed, I wouldn't have been able to do as we agreed. I realize now that I should've said something, but I couldn't stay. I couldn't."

Judging by the lack of eye contact, she was growing uneasy just recalling the moment, so Severus didn't insist.

"Whatever happened this summer must've been worse than being crucioed by your father, or you wouldn't have minded telling me. It kept me up all night, and I kept thinking about it in the Room as well. You know everything my father does to me. You've seen my scars, healed my wounds. How am I supposed to help you if you don't tell me what exactly happened?"

"You help me much more than you realize. My silence protects you."

"So you believe. The truth is that I'm extremely worried about you. I know that something horrible goes on in your own home. It affects the way you interact with absolutely everyone, to the point you believe you're dangerous and think making friends is a mistake."

She scanned the corridors frantically, making sure nobody was coming. At her alert, he lowered his voice.

"You aren't dangerous. The only explanation I find for you to think the contrary is that your father imperiuses you. That's what frightens you. The things he can force you to do. It'd make sense. I wouldn't put it past someone who uses the cruciatus curse to use another unforgivable. Not to mention, the imperius curse is the only unforgivable which can be resisted. I bet occlumency helps with that. Why else would you have learned it at such a young age?"

"You've really mulled over this."

"Am I onto something? Frankly, the reasons why a father would imperio his daughter are downright sick. I keep imagining the worst happening to you, and it makes me feel awful that you always help me but I can't do a single thing for you other than baking you a cake and giving you a hug."

"That's more than enough."

"Not to me. You're afraid that of sharing your secrets with me, but I'm not scared of you. You can trust me."

"If I told you my secrets, apart from putting you in danger, you'd view me as the monster that I am."

"I could never view the person who makes me feel alive as a monster." Her eyes got cloudy. She composed herself pretty quickly, though. "Don't. Please don't hide from me. Don't occlude. Don't run away. You're safe with me."

"Severus," she whispered.

She was begging, no longer occluding. What for? For him to guide her inside the Room of Requirement and talk in private? For him to let her go?

Footsteps and a meow all troublesome students had learned to recognize echoed along the corridor. Severus walked past the entrance of the room three times and extended his hand for her to take. Aware the conversation was far from over and he'd reach out to her sooner or later if she fled, Skyrah took his hand and allowed him to pull her into the magical room, shutting the door right before Mrs. Norris and Filch caught them so far from the dungeons when curfew time was around the corner.

"Bloody cat! She's most inopport–" She lost her voice, finally taking in the surroundings.

The room had transfigured itself to replicate her soothing place: Grandma Brighid's garden. The splash of white and red roses was vibrant against the intense green of the grass and leaves. Their aroma mixed with that of the grass upon which rain had recently fallen. Other plants, especially those for basic potions, occupied the left part of the garden. Under the shadow of a willow laid a quaint white table (where Skyrah placed her Norse mythology book) with four matching chairs. Everything was enclosed in a wooden fence of the same color as the table and chairs. She brushed a white rose. The texture was realistic. The whole garden was a copy a picture-perfect copy so well-done she could easily pretend she was in her sacred place.

Peace descended on her quicker than if she'd drunk a calming draught.

Her mind was clear.

"Second of September and we've already met twice," she said. "We should take our agreement more seriously."

"I'm trying. I didn't expect you to find me. I'll leave as soon as I think Mrs. Norris is far from here. Just know that I meant it: if you ever need to talk about what truly happens at home, you can count on me." He admired the roses alongside her while he waited for Filch to go far away. He understood why Skyrah adored this place. Whereas the Malfoys' garden and its exotic flora was impressive, the simplicity of this one created a cozy feeling. "I sometimes think you're like a rose."

She turned her head, waiting for him to elaborate, and he lost his voice. This serene, surrounded by white roses that contrasted against her black hair, she looked like an image his own dreams might have conjured.

"In what sense?"

"You're strikingly beautiful," he whispered, hoping she didn't interpret that as him not respecting their agreement.

Skyrah barely hid a fond smile at the memory of a second-year Severus telling her he thought she was beautiful. In their fourth year, after seeing her in her Lunar Ball gown, he'd used the words 'absolutely breathtaking' to describe her. The fact that his opinion hadn't changed made her feel warm inside, especially when she only saw a young female version of Tom Riddle in the mirror.

"All flowers are," she pointed out.

"There's a reason rose petals are used in beautification potions."

"Not only are their petals used as ingredients but also their thorns. If I remember correctly, rose thorns make unstable love potions. Maybe you're right. I'm like a rose, with lots and lots of thorns." She definitely felt unstable when she was with him, unpredictable. She could snap at him, kiss him, whisper honeyed words… Everything on the same day.

"A skillful potioneer can use thorns and produce a love potion of the same quality as that made with rose petals. A genius. Didn't you call me that? Your many thorns won't prickle me."

Her stomach felt funny. He always had that effect on her. He had the effect of making her long for his kisses, too.

Here she was, feeling unstable again, even in a place like her grandmother's garden.

She'd told herself over and over again that the less he knew about her, the safer he'd be. However, it seemed that the more she kept from him, the more he worried and the more he craved being by her side. It was time to accept a change in strategy was in order. She had to scare him off for good. The truth was horrifying. She wouldn't reveal all of her secrets. That would be unwise. A taste, though? That could work. It'd satiate his curiosity and convince him to stay away from her. He wouldn't tell anyone about her life. Maybe he'd come to think the agreement was too much of a risk and would break off all kind of contact with her. She'd be sad, but she'd know he was totally safe from her, and that'd be enough.

"My thorns will prickle you, no matter your skills. You've asked me again and again what the danger is, why I'm afraid of myself. Death, Severus. That's the danger. Do you still think I'm worth hoping for?"

He didn't find it amusing despite her mocking tone. In fact, he was very serious when he asked her if her father had ever used the killing curse.

"Yes. I've seen him."

He believed her. If the cruciatus curse was part of her father's repertoire and so was the imperius curse, as Severus suspected, adding the last unforgivable to his list of favorite curses wasn't an absurd thought. On the contrary.

"Whose lives would be threatened if we had something more than our agreement? Yours? Mine? Somebody else's? Would he disapprove of me? Is that why we can't be friends? He'd kill someone?"

"I can't tell for sure. You've got connections with influential pure-bloods. That should benefit you. What worries me the most is the fact that you've been best friends with Evans for years. He might or might not kill you for that. He'd definitely torture you. Evans wouldn't stand a chance. He'd kill her in cold blood and make me watch it all as a punishment, to teach me a lesson."

Skyrah hadn't hesitated, nor would she lie to him about something so grave. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts and try very hard not to throw up. She guided him to one of the seats. The room had materialized an empty glass on the table. She cast an aguamenti on it and offered it to Severus, who welcomed it.

"Your father's a murderer." He needed to say the words for the idea to sink in.

"A sadistic one."

He left the empty glass at the center of the table. Skyrah had taken the seat next to him. "And you've seen him kill?"

"Since I was a child. My mother would brew me sleeping draught. I couldn't fall asleep without it after witnessing a murder. I sometimes still have nightmares about the deaths of those poor muggle-borns who crossed paths with him."

"So he's a muggle-born serial killer. It all comes down to blood purity."

"It all comes down to hypocrisy. My roots are English and Irish. Riddle is British."

His eyes widened. Everybody had assumed she was a pure-blood witch. If the Riddles weren't part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, her family had to originally come from the US. Ilvermorny had been her school before Hogwarts, after all. Her clearly-not-American accent could be explained if her father or her grandfather had married a British witch belonging to the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Skyrah had never confirmed anything. She didn't have to. That Riddle was American was the most logical explanation…

Only Riddle was British.

"You're like me: a half-blood in Slytherin. I must admit you had me fooled. Your performance as a pure-blood is impeccable," he pointed out.

"I've never been in contact with muggles. My mother's a Carrow. She's the one who's brought me up. Father's never been around much."

Except when he has and she's ended up under the torture curse, Severus thought. He did some math and came to the conclusion that if her mother was a pure-blood and her father was a wizard, one of her Riddle grandparents had to be the muggle in her family. She confirmed it with a nod.

"Did they die?" he asked softly. "Is that why you've never met muggles?"

"I don't think my grandfather would have wanted to meet me if he'd been alive by the time I was born. He abandoned my grandmother when she was pregnant with my father." Severus couldn't help but wonder if the Riddles had a bastard gene Skyrah had, luckily, not inherited. "She died after giving birth. Father hates him. His hate extends to everything muggle-related. If he ever met Evans…"

"He doesn't need to know I was friends with her."

She gave a laugh. It was so bitter he cringed. "He didn't need to know about my muggle-born friend in Ilvermorny either."

He frowned. She'd always refused to make friends at Hogwarts and avoided interactions with muggle-borns to the best of her ability.

"Your father killed your friend," he concluded.

Tears pricked in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, willing the scent of roses to soothe her, before revealing, "Faith was poisoned. She hadn't even turned twelve yet. I knew Father was cruel, but I didn't imagine things would end the way they did. The deaths I'd witnessed until then had been of strangers, not someone I cherished. I figured that if he ever found out about Faith, I could convince him that she was as intelligent and able as me, and that meant Merlin was right and blood supremacism makes no sense. At most, I thought I'd be the one getting punished. I was naïve."

"How come your father isn't in Azkaban yet?"

"He's exceptionally shrewd and powerful. The aurors haven't caught him. I doubt they ever will. History tends to repeat itself. I know that well, but this, the death of someone close to me, won't happen again if I can help it. It doesn't matter that I'd have loved to be your friend from the beginning, yours and Evans's, or that every time I push you away, I hurt. I must be careful. Sticking to the agreement is the only way to remain safe."

He took a moment to digest everything as she dried her face.

"You always try for others not to see us together and insist on the importance of the agreement. I don't understand… Your father doesn't live at Hogwarts. He can't tell what exactly you're doing in this castle."

"He's a skilled legilimens with connections. He can easily know what happens in the castle."

"…We were seen on the day of the Lunar Ball." Dancing. Kissing.

"I paid for it."

He tensed. "What did he do to you?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

Which led him to assume the worst. If she'd only been crucioed, she would have admitted it. What could be worse than the torture curse? Was it the same mysterious thing that had happened to her in summer?

"Dammit, Skyrah! Why did you say yes to me knowing you'd end up hurt?"

"I didn't want you to hurt! You told me you didn't want to hurt that day because you're always hurting!"

His expression changed from furious to soft. He unclenched his fists. "Why run the risk at all for me? Not only in our fourth year. You ran the risk from the moment we met. You were friendly even when I didn't exactly welcome you. It'd have been easy to be as cold with me as you are with the rest. Instead, you smiled at me and talked to me about one person who made you feel small. Not many people smile at me, let alone trust me the way you did. I've felt so drawn to you since that day."

Skyrah kept quiet, reflecting on whether this was another secret she should reveal or whether silence was for the best. In the end, she gave him a short explanation. When Faith died, Skyrah's classmates would be supportive, cheer her up, and invite her to hang out with them, even those who hadn't talked much to her before. Skyrah, in turn, would insult them. Never mind she didn't mean the words nor enjoyed being cruel. She'd see what they were self-conscious of and use it against them to make sure they wouldn't want to befriend her.

The Ice Serpent.

That was what they used to call her in Ilvermorny. When she'd met Severus, she'd been friendly enough to get information out of him: the schedule. She hadn't counted on discovering some bullies made him feel small, like her father made her feel, and like the Ice Serpent made her classmates feel. Hogwarts was her chance to start anew, and so from that moment, she chose not to be the Ice Serpent. She wouldn't socialize much on purpose and, yes, she'd be cutting and insensitive at times, but she wouldn't make fun of anyone nor use their insecurities to make them feel bad.

"You were a Slytherin, friends with Malfoy, whom I knew to be a Death Eater family. I figured I still couldn't be friends with you or anybody, but I could be friendly enough without fearing for your death. Then I found out you were best friends with someone like Faith. I tried to be cold, but you kept trying to talk to me, and I…" She trailed off. How was she supposed to tell him she'd started to develop a crush on him which had complicated everything? "All these years, I've done my best to play my role. There's only one person at Hogwarts who's met the Ice Serpent."

"Lily," he deduced. "Why her, though? She isn't the only muggle-born student."

"She's the only muggle-born who's tried to approach me. There was one time we worked together in Ancient Runes. I could tell she was beginning to think I wasn't that bad. I panicked. I didn't even know what I was saying. I only wanted to push her away."

"I remember that day. You looked miserable but didn't tell me why. The Ice Serpent came back the day Lily tried to befriend you, too, didn't it?"

"In full force. I got physically sick."

"I see… Thank you."

She made a sound of disbelief. "I treated your then best friend like shit. I should repulse you. I'm worse than Potter."

Severus gripped the edge of the table strongly. "Don't you dare compare yourself to that pathetic excuse of a wizard. You become the Ice Serpent to protect, not to attack, and never enjoy it. Thanks to you, Lily's safe. Potter's a bully because he gets bored and finds harassing others entertaining. He went to the Lunar Ball to make Lily jealous. You went so that I wouldn't hurt even though you knew you'd be the one hurting."

She shrugged, downplaying his arguments. "I had time to prepare myself and make Father think my Ball date's identity was unimportant. I knew what to say for him to forgive the kiss. I can bear his punishments; I've endured them for sixteen years. You were afraid that Potter and his friends would bully me. If that proves to be true this year, nothing they can do to me will be worse than what my own father does. He's never imperiused me. He doesn't need to. Do you understand why I'm bad for you?"

"You're the only person who's always respected me, given me support when I've needed it, and never been disgusted by me. How can you say you're bad for me?"

"Haven't you listened to me?"

"I have, and I've learned you've always wanted the best for me and Lily. You deserve to be around someone with whom you don't have to pretend. The agreement falls short."

His gaze was so intense she had to look away at the rosebushes. "The only reason I told you all that was to intimidate you. So much for that."

"The flaw in your strategy was that you forgot I see you," he said tenderly. "Even if you meant to intimidate me, you showed you really trust me by telling me your secrets. I'll ask you to trust me again: don't give up yet. You've got a brilliant mind and know your father well. If someone can think of a way to deceive him, that is you."

"The agreement is the only thing I can think of. No more than that. Even if Faith had been a pure-blood, my father wouldn't have liked her. It isn't only blood purity he values. He's got this mold he wants me to fit into, and for me to fit into said mold, I need to be ruthless, dominate and hate. Having friends won't make me fit."

"The last thing that I want is for you to be punished again or to put us and Lily in danger. If moments of comfort are all we can have, I'll accept that. But what if there's a way to stay safe we've overlooked? Shouldn't we go for it?"

Skyrah looked at his hopeful expression. With a small groan, she muttered, "This would be easier if you didn't have pretty eyes."

"You like them?" he asked, half-flattered half-smug. He had always thought they were too dark, too dull… until Skyrah had run her mouth.

"And your voice, and your hands, and your mind, and the way you focus when you brew potions, and how you smile at me, and your sarcasm. I like many things about you." Her confession made him grin at her in a rather silly manner.

"Me too. Not about me. About you. I like many things about you," he said, cursing himself for sounding so nervous.

He was used to people laughing at him when he was embarrassed or simply 'for existing'. The laugh that escaped her, though, held no malice.

"At times, you're endearing."

"Endearing?" he asked with a little sneer, as if he couldn't quite decide whether he liked to be referred to as that or not.

"Most endearing," she emphasized, and Severus determined he did like it, after all. Tobias would make fun of him, but he also made fun of other things Severus knew weren't bad. "I'm sorry Evans stopped seeing that."

"You once said she'd be a fool not to fight for our friendship. Will you fight for ours?"

"The circumstances are di—" The moment his hand reached for her cheek, she shut her mouth. He saw her struggle between pushing away and leaning in. In the end, she closed her eyes and nuzzled her face into his palm. Severus memorized every single detail: from the texture of her wet cheek and its warmth to the few tears which had got caught up in her eyelashes, as dewdrops in rose petals. It was the most she'd allow herself to do before telling him to forget her once and for all…

Or not.

When she opened her eyes and removed his hand from her face, she looked troubled. "I need time to think about a way to stay safe. Can you give me that? Time?"

"I'll give you anything you need."

"It's very likely there's no way to stay safe. I can't make any promises."

"I'm not asking you to. You'll really think about it, though?"

"You're worth hoping for, too."

"We are," he breathed, and she looked at him so longingly that his heart skipped a beat.

"I should leave. Take care."

Her hand was on the door handle when she ran towards Severus, who'd been watching her from his seat. She took his hands and gently pushed so that he'd rise to his feet. The next thing he knew, he was trapped in her tight embrace. After the waves of shock passed, he hugged her back, matching her desperate grip.

"Thank you for not being scared of me and encouraging me to live," she muffled against his shoulder. "I don't know if I'll find the way. I probably won't, but…" She stopped to kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

She returned to their Common Room, leaving him with a reeling mind, burning cheeks, and a glimmer of hope: they wanted the same thing… Plus, she found him endearing. Most endearing. He looked at the white rose she'd brushed earlier. It was closed, afraid of the world. It was only a matter of time until it opened. With a bit of luck, Skyrah would completely open up to him, too, and let him into her life.

Three weeks passed. Without Lily and Skyrah, they felt like a lifetime to Severus. He began to suspect Skyrah was shunning him on purpose. Having no History class together, the best class to pass notes undetected, he pretended to bump into her in the corridor and subtly handed her a note.

"Sorry, I didn't see you. Are you okay?"

"Watch your step," she replied cuttingly.

But she hadn't let the note drop, and when she went to the bathroom, she read its contents:

"My dorm. Saturday. From 9:30 to 11 am. There's Quidditch training."

Which meant Mulciber and Avery would be training and Rosier would watch his girlfriend train.

Skyrah vanished the note.

Not even Myrtle saw it.

"You asked for time. If you need more, please tell me. I only want to know if you've thought of something yet, or if the agreement is the only thing we can have," he said, sitting on his bed opposite Skyrah.

She'd just removed her disillusionment charm, used to go to his dorm undetected. Many boys weren't part of the team and could see her.

"I've been analyzing possible scenarios. I'd never forgive myself if something bad happened to you."

That sentence alone erased all sense of emptiness the solitary weeks had brought upon him.

"The Room of Requirement worked fine for us in our fourth year," she said. "Nobody suspected we were seeing each other. It went on for a few weeks only, and luck was on our side. We can't depend on luck. I've been designing a schedule and thinking of alternative places to meet in secret so that we have a chance to increase the frequency of the meetings. I was waiting for it to be done to contact you, but you passed me the note, and... Anyway, the more places and the more varied the schedule is, the less likely someone is to take notice of us. The idea is to spend time together in secret and keep acting like we've always done in public. Are you willing to do that?"

To her delight, he asked her what the other places would be.

"We could miss Quidditch matches and take advantage of Quidditch training. The Common Room would still be a risky place, but your dorm seems safe. That's why I accepted to meet you here, too." She cleared her throat, willing the heat on her cheeks to go away before adding, "The prefects' bathroom is another option. It's mine for an hour and a half every Thursday."

"Become a prefect, and you'll have a bathroom just for you… and anybody else you wish to invite so long as you're discreet," Lucius would tell little Severus, winking at Narcissa.

Severus would blush at the implication, and now, too, he was blushing. It was hard not to do that when his mind had conjured up the image of Skyrah in a bathtub, her skin wet and so very… Severus filled a glass with aguamenti and took a sip of water which did little to cool him down. Get a grip.

Thankfully, Skyrah continued with her list of potential places. Since there hadn't been enough students to offer Ancient Studies and Alchemy that year, those classrooms would always be empty. All students went to the library to study, outside to take a walk, or to their Common Rooms after the extra-curricular activities were over, meaning the Ghoul Studies, Muggle Art and Music, and Xylomancy classrooms would be available at certain times of the week.

"Do you still experiment in secret in the Potions classroom?" she asked him.

"Yes. Our Head of House doesn't really do a good job keeping track of the inventory."

"Or he lets you use the ingredients and pretends to be dumb as a way to encourage you and ensure you cultivate your talent."

Severus made a snorting sound as an answer.

"When you brew, it's the perfect mix of art and science. I wouldn't mind watching you."

"You'd like to meet me there and watch me brew?"

"Why not?" she asked. "I'm not stupid, even if my father sometimes says I am. Your level is definitely more advanced than mine, but I think I could help you with your experiments if you let me, too."

"Why would he call you stupid of all things?"

After a long pause, he heard a whisper, "A child who welcomes her dad with a hug is stupid according to him. Stupid, weak, and not worthy of him."

Severus clenched his jaw, thinking it was Skyrah's father who was stupid, weak, and not worthy of his daughter.

She continued, "The guys don't seem to know where exactly you experiment with potions. We could consider it another meeting place."

"The list is quite long already."

"It needs to be for this to work. We should cast spells to avoid being caught, arrive and leave with a five-minute difference so as not to be seen going to the same place or leaving it together, and have excuses at the ready to tell in case somebody saw us. We should memorize the final schedule, too. We can't write it down and have it at hand."

"You've given this a lot of thought. You must really want this."

"You don't know how much," she confessed too quickly, which made him grin.

"I want this too. More than anything. Shall we complete the schedule and memorize it together? Come up with the excuses as well?"

She took out a half-made draft and accioed ink and quill. "Let's do this."

By the time they vanished the finished and memorized schedule and excuses, they still had about half an hour left.

"Is it now when we're supposed to have that talk?"

Skyrah tilted her head. "What talk?"

He began to adjust his tie (when it needed no adjustment).

Skyrah didn't know if she should worry or melt at his adorableness. She was reminded of the time he asked her (or rather, tried to ask her) to be his date for the Lunar Ball.

"We've kissed more than once..."

"Yes," she said, her cheeks beginning to colour.

"Do you regret that?"

"No."

"Does that mean..." He gulped. He couldn't quite say it.

"Do you mean to ask me if we're meeting as friends or something more?" she wondered, getting a shy nod as an answer. "I know what I want. And you?"

"Me too. What I want… I'd like to… I mean, if you also…" She took his clammy hand in hers. With an intake of breath, he gathered the courage to continue, "As long as I have you in my life one way or another, I'll count myself lucky."

"But?"

"If you felt ready to be more than friends, I'd like to give us a chance. I'm aware I have little to offer: I'm poor and ugly. You'd be better off with most boys in our year. Regardless, I'd be the happiest boy in Scotland if you wanted to date me someday."

"Is that what those Gryffindors and your father made you believe? That you are just a poor and ugly boy? That you aren't enough?"

"No. It's the objective truth."

She lifted his chin to lock their gazes, one hand still holding his. "The only objective truth I know is that I want to make you, a wizard who doesn't see his worth, the happiest boy in Scotland... today."

His breath caught in his throat. "Are you saying…?"

She nodded, so overcome with emotion she couldn't speak.

"Aren't we going too fast? Perhaps we should remain friends, just friends, and see if it can evolve into something more."

"I've had to wait years to be able to call you my friend. I'm not waiting again to call you my boyfriend, especially if you'd like to date me too."

"Are you sure?"

"I have to pretend in front of everyone. You'll have to pretend now, too. We shouldn't pretend in front of each other. Those who are only friends don't think about kissing each other the way I think about kissing you. If I pretended I saw you only as a friend, I wouldn't be entirely happy. I'm absolutely certain that I want to be your girlfriend."

Severus laughed, releasing all the nerves he'd had from the moment he'd brought up the talk, and hugged her. How had he managed to land such an amazing witch? Someone who understood him, who put him first, and who happened to be bright and kind? He felt like crying tears of joy and relief but held back. He looked at her beautiful face, arms still wrapped around each other, and slowly inclined his head to kiss her. His mouth didn't meet hers, though, but her fingertips. He pulled back, confused.

"Don't you want…?" He shook his head. "I assumed… Sorry."

"I'm dying to kiss you, but before that, there's something I need to tell you."

Severus gulped, thinking he'd go crazy if she didn't kiss him soon. The fact that she kept telling him she also wanted a kiss from him didn't help him. "Go on…"

"I'm scared. I've got a lot to learn about friendship, let alone romantic relationships. Learning comes with mistakes. I don't want to make a mistake so big that I lose you."

He took her hands hoping to calm her down. "Do you want this to work?"

"With all my being."

"We won't mess it up, because even if I make a mistake, you'll listen to me. If you make a mistake, I'll listen to you. We both want this to work, so we'll make it work."

She gave him a nod and eyed him tenderly. "I didn't, in case you haven't figured it out by now."

"Didn't what?"

"Last year, you asked me if I pretended to ask for another kiss at the Ball. The truth is I'd wanted a kiss from you for a long time." She leaned so close their noses brushed. "And I'd love it if you kissed me now."

He pressed his lips against hers and placed his hands on her hips without thinking. It was longer than just a peck, as she had requested in the Ball. He kept it gentle, tentatively licking the seam of her lips. Her smooth lips parted just enough to let out a barely audible throaty sound. He was tempted to use his tongue more actively, as Lucius and Narcissa would. Afraid his inexperience would ruin the kiss, he put a reluctant end to it.

During the kiss, one of her hands had moved from his nape to his chest, to feel his heartbeat. It was now pushing him downwards so that he'd lie on his bed. He breathed raggedly in anticipation. He closed his eyes, waiting for a kiss that didn't arrive. Instead, she used his shoulder as a pillow.

"Hold me?"

He did as requested, failing to conceal his awkwardness, and caressed her ponytail while she intertwined their legs and hooked an arm around his torso. It was silent but comfortable. Although it was supposed to be soothing, all he could think about was whether or not his bones were stabbing her and she was too polite to complain about it.

"Do you like cuddling me?"

"A lot." She emphasized her point by snuggling closer into him. "Why? Shouldn't I?"

"Your body's so… soft. I'm all bones. I've never cuddled. I'm bad at it."

"You aren't. This feels good. I wouldn't want to be in anyone else's arms."

Her words were uplifting. The more he relaxed, the deeper his breathing got. He closed his eyes and focused on her smooth hair plus the comforting feeling of her palm on his chest. He'd have eventually dozed off if not for Skyrah, who suddenly engaged him in a conversation. She wanted to get him know better, and encouraged him to ask about her life, too. He'd never felt as safe as with her, able to talk about everything and anything, knowing he wouldn't be judged. Their future was one of the subjects they discussed. He wanted to become a potioneer, perhaps research and have his own business. She, on the other hand, would rather pursue teaching as a career. Becoming a History teacher had always been her ambition.

"…Have you thought this through?

"I was teaching my plushies and house-elf even before I could write, Severus. I'm sure. Why? What's wrong with my decision?"

"Nothing except for the fact that Professor Binns won't retire any time soon. Professor Dumbledore should hire you, but then again, his hiring choices aren't always… competent."

"There are more schools. Besides, I wouldn't mind teaching other subjects. I could even tutor home-schooled children. It's too soon to tell where life will take me. What I know is that I'd love to teach in Ilvermorny for a while. My mother thought it would be better to start a new life here at Hogwarts, but I feel like I'm fleeing. I need to learn to cope with Faith's death in America. I'll be older by the time I go back. I hope to be strong enough by then."

"You're the strongest person I know. You'll succeed in whatever you set your mind to."

Skyrah smiled sweetly at him and kissed his cheek as a thank you. "Do you know the best part about cuddling?"

"Mmh?"

"It can be done while kissing," she answered in a playful tone.

"A fan of my kisses, aren't you?"

"Unashamedly so. I may not take part in most of my dorm mates' chats, but I've heard horror stories about both first kisses and first times." He blushed terribly at the sex allusion, something which didn't escape her notice. Since she didn't mean to make him uncomfortable, she continued, "Your kisses feel wonderful. I haven't kissed any other boy, and I don't want to. I'm convinced you're a natural."

If he'd meant to reply, his words turned into a muffled moan the moment her lips found his. As he'd done earlier with her, her tongue licked his lips but didn't reach inside his mouth yet. If the kiss was pleasant already, it became even more so when she started playing with his hair. Why its greasiness didn't repel her was beyond him, no matter how much she insisted that she found him handsome. Her breasts were pressed against his chest; her thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. Just when he thought his body would show just how much he liked it, she pulled back. It was a blessing and a curse.

"What's your verdict?"

"M-my verdict?" he stammered.

"Am I a good kisser? Is there something I should improve?"

If she got any better or bolder, he wouldn't survive it.

"I can't think of anything to improve."

Skyrah beamed at him. She glanced at the door, aware she had to leave, yet stayed and worried her lip. "I'm sorry we have to date in secret. I feel like you can't be free with me. I swear, if my father wasn't a problem, I'd…" She gulped. "Are you really sure you want this? It isn't too late to say no to me. You reckoned you have little to offer when it's me the one who isn't the best girlfriend material."

Severus eyed her in shock. When it passed, he took the hand that had been playing with his hair and gave it a kiss. "I've never felt as free as I am with you. You listen to me, you see me. Having to pretend in front of others is a little inconvenience at most. What matters is that you and I are together. I've wanted to be this close to you for so long… You said you were sure about dating me. Have you changed your mind?"

"I haven't. I won't. I want this, Severus." Her expression went from serious to playful in a second, matching her tone. "Today's September twenty-fifth. That's a date you'll have to remember from now on, boyfriend. Until our next date."

A peck on his cheek later, she disappeared.

It was a good thing his dorm mates weren't punctual, or else they'd caught Severus doing a small victory dance.

The rose had opened.

Happiest boy in Scotland indeed.