Toxic Romance

The rhythmic tapping of black shoes echoed in the darkening corridor, the colour of the day fading to match with the man’s attire, the both of them perfect in their own unique blend of darkness. Only the flurry of snow set to upset this delicate balance, but even so, its efforts proved to be in vain. 

Severus had numerous words in his extensive vocabulary that he could use to describe the atmosphere decorating the castle’s every corridor, spreading into the classrooms, and even latching onto the few sensible teachers the school had seen in decades, himself included, unfortunately:

Festive.

Excited.

…Peaceful.

 Alas it was the time of year for the Merlin-forsaken devils to return to their spawners, a time of peace and quiet, especially for the head of House Slytherin. The students in his House always leave for home for every Christmas holiday, without fail, for as long as he had worked at Hogwarts, even so in his previous days as a student. He brushed away the dour thoughts that made to slip through his Occlumency shields, whispering about how he was always the only student who didn’t return to his house for the holidays. He pulled them back into their resting place, his mood souring just a tad.

He heaved a heavy sigh at the intrusive thought, looking around for anything that might improve his mood. He found it of course, and he allowed himself a small smile at his victory. The youngest Weasley boy was being escorted by his goons in the same direction as he was, chattering excitedly about their plans for the holidays. If Severus had learned anything at all about the Weasley boys, it was that they were always up to something.

"-Blimey, am I glad that I won't be seeing the greasy, old bat anytime soon!"

Severus' smile stretched out into a truly gruesome smirk as he quickened his pace to mete out their well deserved punishment. His shadow fell over the three of them in an instant, making them jump. The words were already out of the brat's mouth before he could stop himself.

"Oi! What do you think you're playing at?!"

The rest of the follow-up died in his throat as they collectively looked up and finally see their most hated professor. While Thomas was wisely seeking an escape route, a quick delve into Finnegan's mind revealed his escape plan by way of an "accidental" explosion, and knowing the boy's penchant for such, Severus was not about to allow him the leeway as, Merlin forbid, that would kill all four of them. 

But just in case, he silently cast a Shield Charm on himself to avoid the annoyance. The boy could kill himself and his friends if he so pleased, at least Severus would not have to deal with the nutters any longer. His smirk twitched upward a tick at his fantasy.

'I should write this down in their journals later.'

“Perhaps you could enlighten this ‘greasy, old bat’ as to your thoughts about him, hm?”

All three of them paled dramatically at his words, making Severus’ smile stretch even wider, all the while keeping an eye on the wand-happy boy in his periphery, which was why he saw the exact second he inched for his wand. Severus hurried to see to his business with them and leave, not in the mood to chance his shield against one of Finnegan’s infamous explosions.

A few seconds later, Severus was walking away from the scene of the three boys’ faces blackened and twisted in anger from the biggest explosion Finnegan had ever cast. Even though he had extracted one hundred and fifty points from their House, Severus had been impressed enough by said demonstration to not take an additional fifty. After all, it wasn’t every day the Potions master was impressed these days.

Severus’ pace slowed as he contemplated his last thought. The words had made themselves home in the same way he felt at Spinner’s End; so out of place, and yet frozen in an entrapment of familiarity. The out of place sentimentality was bothering him today. He blamed it on the season. But the realization that he had lied to himself still stuck to him, forcing him to acknowledge it.

‘Miss Potter had been impressing me lately, hasn’t she?’

Indeed, not a class went by that she didn’t give it her all, even offering obscure facts about his profession that he thought only the Granger girl would know, a know-it-all as she was. Her eager expression was always a breath of fresh air in the dungeons, among the idiots who barely put in any effort into their studies. It reminded Severus of himself at that age, the zest to learn all he could, eager to prove himself, yearning to be acknowledged.

If only he had had the encouragement he had sought.

 His hand tightened around the sheet of parchment he was carrying as he thought of what it entailed. Indeed, the list of students staying in the castle during the holiday had always been empty…until now. 

Severus’ steps slowed to a halt as he brought the list up to the light of a flickering torch, the single name etched into parchment capturing his attention once more.

Harriet Potter.

He carefully folded the list as he continued on his way to the headmaster’s office, steeling himself for another verbal spar with the old man.

‘It seems like the girl and I are alike in more ways than one.’

…

Potter had long since dozed off, tucked peacefully into her bed. Her face had smoothed out in her sleep, all traces of her previous fears erased in her slumber. Her adventure that Christmas night must have tired her out way more than he had expected, as she hadn't stirred once since sleep had claimed her.

Severus lingered at her bedside, keeping his word to stay by her… or perhaps withheld by something else he refused to acknowledge. He took the time to observe her now, for the first time, and definitely the last, he told himself, away from prying eyes. 

Her eyes were shifting behind the curtain of her eyelids, in what Severus hoped were now pleasant dreams. His eyes strayed to her face, his expression twisting as the visage of his repulsive nemesis greeted him. The beginning of hatred at this roiled in his chest, begging him to reach out, pleading with him to strangle the life out of the last trace of that bastard. And yet…

Red hair spilled like blood on her pillow, framing her face in a gentle cushion. The reminiscence of another, bearing a different face, forced his hands to still. Severus knew that within the realm of sleep, green eyes of an ethereal familiarity nestled in their peaceful rest.

'Lily.'

His fingers twitched against the armrest of his chair for who knows how many times now, tempted to run his hand through the crimson locks. His eyes darted around the empty dorm, save for the both of them, and gave in to the temptation.

Crimson strands spilled beautifully over his palm, the silky locks sending a tickling sensation up his entire arm. He ran his fingers through the river of red, cautious not to let the curious digits stray too close to her face. An invasive thought made its way into his mind, making sense in a way that seemed familiar in that moment, the urge to smell the strands fighting to ruin his composure. 

And reminiscent of man's ruin, he gave in to his dark desire.

The stream of silk tickled his nose as he inhaled, letting his eyes slip close as he memorized the new scent to the depths of his being. He closed his eyes at the tantalizing caress on his face, leaning into the loving touch. Lily's hair had always been soft, always felt like he was carding his fingers through lush velvet, in the few moments that she had let him touch it. This one was so different.

 Where straight hair should have been, only made room for tousled tresses that sought to join their brethren on the pillow in a harmony of unruliness. The smell of sweat lingered in her tresses, mingled with the scent of rose oil instead of the soft lilies he was expecting. The scent of lilies had always been her only preference, her way of carrying on the inside joke of her name, just between the two of them.

Severus’ hand closed tightly around the lock cradled in his palm as suspicion of James Potter knowing about their secret joke, and even worse, partaking in it, made his lips twist into a sneer, pausing in his ministrations as he opened his eyes to clear the thought from his mind, completely ruining his mood in the process. Something glinted just to the side, and he turned in that direction, his wand already in his hand, and stopped dead. 

The frosted pane of glass held the evidence of crime, his expression frozen in the sneer that looked far creepier than it would have in the semi-darkness,…or perhaps that was exactly the way it had always looked like. His pale reflection captured exactly what he was in that moment, leaning over a child more than fifteen years his junior. His bony fingers were wrapped around her hair, and no one could mistake his previous action with it. His dark eyes took his form in, realizing that he looks like a…a…

‘Predator.’

Severus stood abruptly, his feet carrying him away from the scene of his crime. His stomach twisted at the thought, mentally berating himself at his actions. His thoughts were in a whirl of guilt and disgust, his eyes barely focusing as he barreled down the stairs toward the fireplace. 

His stomach dropped when the coarse sensation of the Floo powder didn’t erase the memory of softness from his fingers. The grains of powder spilled from his closed palm as he clenched his hands into fists, and he slowly let out a breath he hadn't realized that he was holding. The rest of the powder fell from his now opened hand in lumps, as he gritted out the destination of his rooms. The blaze of green flames that erupted to spirit him away to his destination made his throat lurch, as another reminder of his act was now literally flickering in his face. The tongues of flames licked at his robes, climbing the length of his body to gently caress his face as the memory of red hair had also done.

 He stumbled blindly out of the fireplace into his small sitting room, fumbling with his wand to undo the enchantments on his bedroom door. His free hand reached out and snagged his constant companion from its rest, bringing the bottle to his lips to take a long drag out of it. The unpleasant and familiar burn scraped down his throat and burned like fire, and all that filled his mind was red. 

Red. Red. Red. Redredredredred.

 The Locator Charm he had cast on her on Halloween, made him hyper aware of this, and in a moment of panic, cancelled the spell, not caring about the negative repercussions it could have at the moment. His Occlumency shields threatened to weaken under the pleasant onslaught of emotions that captivated him as he crawled into his bed, forcing the thoughts back behind the only wall of security that prevented him from making another mistake.

'One that I wouldn't regret.'

The bed sheets were pleasantly cool on his back, as he made himself comfortable. Or tried to, at least. The softness of the blanket kept bringing his mind back to what he longed to forget, it being a memory too fresh to ignore. He tossed and turned, seeking the dark embrace of sleep, but it never came. 

Because he only had visions of red whenever he closed his eyes.

Severus leapt out of bed in his drunken haze, his fingers twitching at the beginnings of an addiction he didn't dare to name. He reached into his bedside drawer, his hand closing around a familiar notebook. He stroked the cover as he contemplated its contents, speculations he had drawn before meeting...her. 

'She's just so...different.'

He walked out into his living room and sat in his favourite armchair. The magical fire was still going strong in its fight against the chill, but it could do nothing more, other than reflect the ignition in Severus' heart. He thumbed at the cover, careful not to open the book and spill the wrongful profanities of her character for the world to see. 

Dumbledore had been so wrong about her, and she had exceeded all expectations, even enough to make Dumbledore rethink his plans...something he had never been able to do, always seeming to play right into the old man's hands. No matter how well-thought his escape plan, he always wound up right in the wizened hands of his oppressor.

The fire crackled as if in reminder of his half-baked plan, and without thinking, Severus tossed the accursed book into its fiery depths, relishing in its final moments on this earth. He summoned another the next moment, and watched as it appeared with a soft pop on his table, a quill and inkwell following after. His hands were were shaking as he pulled it toward himself.

'I should stop. I should stay far away from her.'

Severus felt like he was lingering on the precipice between life and death, unsure if he could pull himself off it, even if he wanted to. He watched as a drop of ink flowed down from the tip of the quill onto a blank page, and felt his restraint shatter.

'...Just this once.'

Severus set to writing about a memory of green eyes and red hair on a different face until dawn.

...

Severus treaded to breakfast the next morning feeling more than a little guilty and disgusted about his actions. The bitter taste of the Hangover Potion weighed heavily on his tongue, and on top of not getting any sleep the previous night, -his own fault, really- he was in a really foul mood. He jolted when he realized something that he hadn't thought of before:

'What if Dumbledore finds out?'

Severus' stomach dropped as he stopped dead. His thoughts whirled as he thought of every scenario that could happen in, made every excuse known to man, and found that they all sounded like the excuses someone like that- a predator, a child predator - would make. And, he realized with a jolt, his actions weren't so innocent either. He swallowed thickly as he forced his feet to move toward his doom. 

He made his way to the doors of the Great Hall, only to find it open. His suspicion got the better of him as his wand made way into his hand, and stopped dead. 

She stood beneath the flurry of snow, bathed in the morning winter glow. The blue cast of the wintry light highlighted her figure, painting its radiance on the splash of red wherever it touched. A similar image washed over his mind, a memory from a long time ago, and even now, he couldn't help but recall the name as his heart broke.

'Lily.'

The figure slowly faced him with a smile, as if summoned by the desperation in his soul, and smiled at him. The face of one Harriet Potter greeted him, with enough shock to rival the winter season. The face was too different, too unfamiliar to be her.

"Good morning, professor."

Even their voices were different, too. Too happy to be addressed at him, even from Lily. The note of happiness in her voice carried more weight than the young girl could ever realize. He should hate it, resent and lash out at her for the piting smile he knew she sent him.

'And yet...'

Severus inclined his head in reply to her greeting, taking the time to take in the different features between her and Lily.

"Good morning, Miss Potter."

...

Breakfast that morning was calmer than the one on Christmas had been, as even the Weasleys were all strangely quiet. Imagine Severus' surprise when they had stayed over for the holidays, after the youngest one hadn't wanted to see the "greasy, old bat" again. Severus must have been more stressed than usual for him to have ignored them for so long. He looked at where the boy was munching on a piece of bacon, thinking about the best way to punish the sod for a crime he was yet to commit. He looked around the room for inspiration, but dropped his eyes back to his plate when he made eye contact with Dumbledore. 

The taste of the formerly tasty bacon faded to ash in his mouth so fast that he nearly choked. Right, he shouldn't forget that he had to be extra careful around the old man today. Guilt gnawed at his stomach, as he glanced at the object of his internal strife sitting so close to him. He forced a piece of toast in his mouth before Dumbledore could notice something wrong with him.

The meal progressed agonizingly slowly for his liking, but finally, it was over. He stood to escape the dreadful after-meal socialization that was already happening, making his way to the doors with no incident. It was only when he'd made it past them that a firm hand closed around his shoulder.

"A moment, Severus."

Severus heaved a deep sigh of defeat, not turning around as he replied.

"Lead the way, headmaster."

...

The walk up to the headmaster’s office was a subdued one. The older man walked up ahead, and Severus took the time to note that, as usual, Dumbledore didn't give anything away in his countenance, which made Severus dread this sudden request even more. 

Though, he didn't show it, Severus' mind buzzed like a hive of bees as he discreetly adjusted his collar, as sweat rolled down his back. It didn't help matters that the grotesque gargoyle at the entrance to Dumbledore's office had startled a blink out of him, nor that the griffin-headed door knocker seemed to be staring deep into his soul. Severus was already exhausted before they finally, finally entered the office.

The bits and bobs adorning every surface highlighted the headmaster’s eccentric taste. The odd clicking noises they made carried across the room and rubbed right against the last of Severus' frayed nerves, thrumming to the beat of his mental war.

Dumbledore took his seat behind a surprisingly tidy desk, and offered Severus a seat.

"Lemon Drop, my boy?"

Severus barely glanced down at the sweets that he knew contained a mild dose of Veritaserum. He honestly didn't feel like having a go at a Truth Potion at the moment.

"No thank you, headmaster." He replied quickly.

Dumbledore chuckled in amusement as he pushed to bowl aside and, lacing his fingers, his expression suddenly turning serious.

"How is Harriet, Severus?"

Click. Click.

Severus could have sworn that his heart had stopped beating. Of course that was what the old man had wanted to talk about. It was always about The-Girl-Who-Lived, and never about herself as a person. Of course it was never about her wellbeing, and all about her progress in Dumbledore's grand plan of "The Greater Good."

"She shows promise, headmaster. She is progressing as well as expected." Severus returned dutifully.

"And are there any...distractions?"

Click. Click.

Severus swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. He didn't know about the Granger girl, but Draco was more than just a distraction for Potter, but he couldn't say that, no matter how much he wanted to.

"No, not at all."

"Ah, I see." Dumbledore responded airily. 

Dumbledore was still leaning forward as he scrutinized Severus. The silence between them stretched taut, and the clicking and chimes went silent as Dumbledore asked his next question:

"And what of last night, Severus? Anything to report? Anything at all?" Dumbledore's grandfatherly voice intoned gently, the switch in his demeanor not escaping Severus, as the older man's eyes twinkled with a familiar expression that Severus had come to know intimately. 

Click. Click. Click. Click. Clickclickclickclick...

Severus' heart pounded as he clenched his hands into fists. His mouth dried up faster than Firewhiskey could ever achieve, the deliciousness of his breakfast a long forgotten memory. His wand appeared instinctively in his hand, in response to his distress, the wood groaning under the pressure of his tightened fist. 

The poisonous utterance of the headmaster dragged their venomous claws on the surface of his trembling mental walls, seeking to make him spew his most recent, deadly secret. And yet, disgust paraded at the forefront of his mind as he thought, for one moment, if he was indeed fit to be the girl's guardian. 

He was not such a fool as to discard his actions of last night as a mere inspection, a fool's excuse to quell his persistent guilt. He had been a creep, plain and simple, had been ever since he laid eyes on her, and it caused no small amount of bile to rise in his throat.

Severus glanced at Dumbledore, eager to tell him about his immoral activity, seeking to bare his soul to him once more, as he had done ten years ago...but all his training as a spy withheld his tongue. 

The last time he had done that, had led to him being at Dumbledore's mercy, heeding his every beck and call. The calculative glint that Severus had become too familiar with served as a ruthless reminder of his own station in life. 

The cruel irony had not eluded Severus as he thought about the mission he had sworn and taken upon himself the night the love of his life had died. The Unbreakable Vow he had sworn to the despicable old man had slipped out too freely from his lips, binding him into a lifetime of servitude. 

Severus had sworn to protect the girl, in Lily's name, without regret, and was already failing at it. 

His resolve held firm as he swore silently to himself, promising to be more cautious, more decent toward the girl - Harriet- his mind supplied helpfully. He vowed to never again show weakness in the face of his enemies, even the ones that pretended to offer him an illusion of salvation. He pushed everything, all his emotions, goals, and convictions, behind the now steady barrier of his Occlumency. 

Severus met Dumbledore's eyes squarely with his own, as he replied with the confidence born from his years as a triple-agent.

"No, headmaster. Nothing at all."

Click. Click.

...

Severus never remembered how he got into his rooms after that.

 His return was a blurred mess that he resisted the urge to unpack, in a vain attempt to reign in his fractured sanity. His shaking hands reached for a sealed bottle of some potion ingredient or other, his nerves steadying as his fingers closed around its cool, crystal neck. 

Severus' body moved in familiar, practiced motions, not checking the time, weaving one potion after the other as he leashed his mind to them, berating himself when it threatened to wander into dangerous territory. 

'The finesse of potion-making requires a steady hand, and an even steadier mind...' The quote from the Standard Book of Potions: Book One washed over him in a welcome reprieve, the first thing he had learned about the fine art, back from all those years ago as a first year student at Hogwarts.

'So long ago...'

Severus' lips quirked upwards at the fond memory, especially at the thought of the only person who had been by his side during those early years. How her laughter had been the only thing carrying him through his dark childhood, how they had both walked through the hallways, either arguing about an inventive application of charms, or strolling in companionable silence. 

Severus’ lips curved into a full-blown smile as the memories washed through him, his hand reaching for the hair ribbon that she had tied his hair with, with the claim that his hair had been getting too long. He could still smell her soft fragrance as she had gently gathered his hair into a low ponytail. 

Severus seized his stirring, his concentration already gone, and undid the ribbon to inspect it. The black length of silk flowed into his waiting hand, the light touch grounding him in his memories. His thumb caressed the glossy surface, marveling at the work of the Stasis Charm he had entwined in its form. 

He closed his eyes in reminiscence, letting the memories buoy him afloat their pleasant seas. He brought it closer to his nose as he inhaled the faint scent of lilies and Lily that lingered, tickling his nostrils in its sinful allure. Even to this day, he could still see the few loose strands of red that had come out when she had removed it from her own hair to attach it to his. Another vision of red assaulted his sense, of a sleeping face, and wide, trusting green eyes…

Severus snapped back to his senses so fast that he reckoned he might have had a mental whiplash, inhaling sharply as his vision spun. He flung the ribbon without care as if it had burned him. It fluttered down somewhere beyond his vision, but Severus no longer cared to check where exactly it had landed, or rather, he was too lost in his own head to notice. 

He struggled to draw oxygen into his lungs as the room suddenly became too narrow, squeezing in around the tightness of his chest. He made his way to his bathroom, just in time to upend the meager breakfast he had choked down that morning. He was there for quite a while, not wanting to face the outside world just yet. 

By the time Severus got back to his living room, the firewood was already crackling merrily in its grate, in a mockery of his mental state. His stomach gurgled as he banished his potions cauldron back into his storeroom, ignoring the pinch that served as a painful reminder of his having missed out on lunch. He immediately banished the thought of convening in the Great Hall for dinner, not having the mental faculties to deal with the "festive" atmosphere.

 Severus called for an elf to bring him his meal, the creature laying a magnificent spread before him, before popping back to the kitchen. He was just about to dig into his dinner, when there was a faint pop to his side. 

An unsealed letter fluttered down gently on his table, laying innocently there as if it were the bearer of good news. But Severus felt all the colour drain from his face as he read the words in a familiar hand:

My office, Severus.

And next to it, laying on the table in a similarly angelic fashion, was the ribbon that had been the source of his earlier distress.

Severus felt the little appetite he had had disappear that evening.

...

The girl was gone, had been since that morning, in fact.

Dumbledore had been watching him intensely as he had delivered that tidbit of information, taking in Severus' pristine appearance that he had somehow managed to conjure on himself. Not a single lint had been out of place to betray his frazzled mentality, not one reason given for the old man to lay into him more than necessary. As usual, he had responded to the summon as nothing more or less than his best presentation.

Severus let out a low groan in frustration at that, as if he didn't have enough mental turmoil already. He was alone in a rarely used part of the castle, blending in seamlessly with the descending darkness. He sieved through the various facts he knew about her, about the number of places she could have gone, cringing the entire time at how much detail he had gathered about her.

'She could be anywhere.'

Severus summoned his wand instantly, knowing what he could do to ease his search, but not knowing whether or not he had the strength to do it. He took a deep breath and concentrated, as much as the Patronus Charm required.

 A singular vision of joy filled his mind's eye, raw and untainted by intrusive thoughts. The happiest memory of his youth came to him easily, tilting up his lips in the same expression he had worn back then. 

A lovely laugh he still remembered, a warm hand that pulled at his insistently, and lovely green eyes behind crooked glasses...

...Glasses?

Severus's spell faltered as reality punched him in the gut. His wand let out a pitiful silver light of a failed Patronus, briefly highlighting his failure for the world to see, before plunging him back into the dim lighting of his surroundings. Severus stood there, speechless as another haunting invaded his psych, with him unable to stop it in time.

He stared at his wand as if to make sense of what just occurred, trying to puzzle out his new intoxicating insanity. He heaved a heavy sigh as he tilted his head toward the fading horizon, watching as the sun went down, symbolizing his fettered mind. He closed his eyes as he inhaled sharply, willing himself to not succumb to this new devilry. Because, after all...

'There is a time and place for such things.'

Severus' reasoning faltered as he thought of what had transpired in his mind in what he had deemed to be a safe space earlier, sighing as his new habit forced him to do. He chuckled darkly as the passing thought of Spinner’s End being the safest place for him at the moment, his maniacal laughter choking off as he realized what exactly he had been thinking of. He inhaled sharply as he willed his mind to go blank, fluidly adjusting his shields once more with casual practice.

 Severus spun swiftly on his heels and walked off into the night, because after all, he had a job to do.

...

The first place he checked was the library, with its having been her favourite spot to mingle with her friend, Granger, perhaps she had gone there out of loneliness, to seek comfort among the dusty tomes. The library had been closed, of course, as it was a holiday, and Madam Pince had been none too happy to see him there, when she had come to do a routine check-up of the place, fearing that the Weasley twins had somehow snuck in. Severus made sure that she could pick up his thinly-veiled irritation as he left, having felt the need to be petty.

He searched all of her other usual haunts, but after finding her absent in each one, finally dropped by the gamekeeper's hovel- hut - he blithely reminded himself, slightly more confident of her presence there. Hagrid's hulking figure threw open the door, his brows furrowing when he saw his guest. Severus resolved to make a quick exit before Hagrid could invite him into his home and offer him those dastardly cakes of his. The one time he had made such a mistake was enough of a warning for him.

Severus saw to his business as quickly as he could, taking care to be extra civil when the huge man asked about the girl's whereabouts. The giant of a man had given him a quizzical look, as if he wanted to ask him something else, but thought better of it as he bade Severus goodnight and shut his door behind him.

Severus' current predicament didn't allow him time to puzzle over Hagrid’s funny look however, as by now an even more terrible weight was sinking into his stomach.

The girl hadn't been there either.

'Damn it. Damn it.

The cold pierced his lungs as he frantically fought against his encroaching desperation. His feet trudged through the thick layer of snow along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A discordant wail compelled him to face the yawning darkness that the Forest emitted of its own volition, as a single horrifying thought latched onto his mind.

'What if she's in there?'

He should have discarded the thought in an instant, paid it no heed as it did not even match her character, owing to his steadfast observation. And yet...

The inhuman wail echoed in the building flurry of snow, making his hair stand on end. The promise of a blizzard, present in the air, could not blanket the horrifying cry that he knew he wasn't supposed to hear. 

Severus swallowed as his foot hovered over the terrifying barrier that marked the climax of an extremely stressful trek into the unknown. That sound had been downright inhuman, and even with his level of expertise, he wasn't sure if he was ready to face whatever was going on in there.

 He cursed himself as he hesitated, the foul words trailing into the air. He stepped back from the edge, as his self-preservation won, and tried the Patronus Charm again, and it fizzled out faster than it had earlier. He choked on air as he realized that he was indeed losing time, his sanity merrily accompanying the draining hourglass. The Charm fizzled out again on his next try, and he didn't hold back the loud curse. 

The old man's face danced before his eyes, disappointment the only expression he could discern in their depths. A vision of overlapping red assaulted his mind's eye of a different shade that he had come to know. A pool of crimson staining the floor, and a single heart-rending sentence:

'I knew you'd come.'

Severus inhaled sharply as he glanced around, fortifying his mind for the journey ahead. Honestly, of all the times the girl had to take after her father...

His eyes froze on the frosted pane of glass set in Hagrid’s house, as a cold realization dawned on him. 

The girl wasn't in the forest, she couldn't be. How could he have forgotten about that item so quickly. The memory he had been too happy to bury about the night before floated to the front of his mind.

The apparition of a child slumbering in front of a cursed mirror.

Severus palmed his hand on his wand as he contemplated using his last resort, the Locator Charm that he had taken off the girl and had sworn that he will never use on her again. In his hesitation, the wail had choked off into a strangled cry and had gone silent, and seemed to make his decision for him.

His movements were jerky as he wove through the motions of casting, the charm heeding the call of its summoner. The few seconds it took for it to take effect were the longest he had ever lived through. Then finally, finally, it pinpointed her location, within the castle. 

His sigh of relief broke off as a single, high-pitched shriek tore through the night, then went silent. 

Severus would know that sound anywhere, for it was the sound of a creature giving its last, desperate cry, having heard it way too many times during the war. He closed his eyes as he steeled his mind against those memories, not willing to unpack them when someone important was at stake.

He spun on his heels faster than the thought could be completed, his hasty steps taking him to the castle doors. 

...

Severus' heart was thundering by the time he arrived at the door holding the source of his aneurysm. His heart pounded in his chest as he bespelled away the sweat he had worked up from his one-man marathon. 

The room beyond was devoid of light at first glance, but upon looking closer, Severus could just glimpse a dull reflection of a silver light from his position. His hand hovered over the door's handle, taking several deep breaths to steady his racing heartbeat. When he finally felt in control of himself, he slowly pushed the door open.

The sole luminance in the dark came from a loosely held wand that was firmly held against the sturdy mirror. The girl was leaning so firmly against it that he thought that, had the accursed furniture not being as it was, she might have long since tipped it over.

A primal desperation lined every angle of her body, which was even more pronounced by her unawareness of her environment. Severus made sure that his footsteps weren't quiet enough to badly startle her, but still identical to his normal gait. He looked her over, checking for any sign visible injury, being careful not to let his eyes stray to the Mirror. When he was satisfied, his earlier worries morphed into ire, then bubbled to the surface.

"Miss Potter." His voice came out colder than he had intended. She was lucky enough that that was the only thing she would get away with, what with all the stress that she had put him through. His mind whispered that the majority of that had been his own doing, but he brushed the thought away as he refocused on his task at hand.

The girl had visibly tensed up at his call, but was still fixated on the Mirror, choosing to ignore him. Severus' brow ticked in irritation as he stepped closer. 

'Here I was thinking that she had gotten hurt again, or worse,' Severus willed away the nightmarish memory of her being surrounded by raining debris, and a massive club descending on her hopeless figure...

 'But to think she had been here all along.' 

A spectre of a man long dead made its way to his mind's eye, rooting itself into his thoughts in the same way it always had and perhaps always will. Raucous laughter about his own trickery, jeers at the successful prank on 'Snivellus' , the laughter at his expense...

'Did she do it for a laugh, then?'

Severus knew that the girl was smart. Merlin, she probably knew that he favoured her in some way, given their interactions in his own class. So if she had done this as a prank of some sort, trying to prove something after all that, and not to mention that Halloween night...

Albus' words echoed in his dour thoughts, the ones he longed to forget:

"She looks just like her father."

Severus' chest burned as the words sliced into him like a wayward Sectumsempra.

"She looks just like her father. She looks just like her father. Shelooksjustlikeherfather." His thoughts swirled more out of his control the more he tried to reel them in, as they steadfastly clung to the edges of his mind.

"...She's...just like her father."

His next words came out altered in equal parts anger and worry, the jumble of words tumbling into a sharp sentence that could have cut through the tension between her shoulders.

"I believe I addressed you, Miss Potter." 

Severus didn't think that the girl could possibly tense up further than she had, but he was apparently wrong in his deduction. He heard he take a shuddered breath as she slowly turned to face him, her wand still held aloft in her own hand.

The enchanted light glowed on her tear-stained cheeks, vividly highlighting her forlorn agony. Crooked glasses glinted dully as they obstructed his view of a face he'd long since been itching to slash up with his most infamous spell, but then the light caught her face just right, catching green in a halo of red. 

Severus stared at her in an effort to not glance behind her, if nothing else, and fall under a thrall that he could not drag himself out of. But that didn't mean that his eyes did not stray ever closer to the mirror, neither did it mean that he didn't catch the occasional flash of the familiar figure he longed to see again, alive and in his arms. He stayed longer in the young girl's space than he might ever forgive himself for later, then he stepped back under the guise of having checked his student for signs of injury, in a sudden burst of will.

Severus barely paid attention to the words he uttered in her direction. He heard the girl stutter out some reply or other, as he tried to not let his eyes stray from her. The temptation was just on the verge of overwhelming him, and the day's events had not helped in the slightest. 

'If only there was something to take the edge off.' Severus' eyes strayed a little too closely to the mirage than his normal self-control would have allowed at the unbidden thought. 

The events of the day weighed heavily on his shoulders, with the mental strain building into an uncomfortable pressure behind his eyes. He withheld a sigh for who knows how many times that day, his fingers twitching as he considered that he had to report to Albus now that he had located the girl.

He could just hear the berating sarcasm in the old man's voice, could see the sharp, eyes burying daggers in his skin, and he could feel the burn of seen and unseen eyes watching him squirm in his seat. Honestly...

'Why can't I be happy?'

His eyes flicked to the side again, a brief glimpse that saw too much at once, and yet so little that it left him yearning for more. The glimpse had made his cold heart crack, just a bit, or perhaps the crack had always been there, ignored in favour of his submission to forces to guide his actions in a semblance of control.

'Don't I deserve this?'

He cast one final glance at the Mirror again, only to see a flash of a warm smile he'd always known directed at him.

The new words that he had come to associate with his growing madness, settled in his mind with all the grace of a dark enchantment he was intimately familiar with, and to him, in that moment, made all the sense in the world.

'Just this once.'

Severus flicked his wand as he seriously considered his next actions of that night. His Detection Charm had revealed no other presence apart from theirs, but he wanted to make sure, so he recast it several more times, each delivering the same results. 

His traitorous body complied with his disloyal thoughts as he moved a step toward his latest temptation. He kept his eyes away from it, trying to give himself time to find a way out of there, to just grab the girl and leave. His eyes went to the young girl as he finally thought of her again that evening, and seeing her eyes shut, hiding away similar features to the one behind her from his view, finally made him seek solace in the unlikely source.

And there she was.

Lily Evans was as resplendent as the last time he had seen her, whole, alive, and untainted by the blemishes of her fate. Her eyes were crinkled with her enchanting smile, her lips mouthing his name from the other side of the barrier. Severus' hand came up to were her face was, reaching to cradle her warm cheek in his hand, and yet...

His fingers met a resistance so solid that it made his fingernails bend and break. The hang nails scraped against the mirror's surface, biting into his flesh with every scrape, but he still couldn't take his eyes off the beauty in front of him. 

Severus' naked emotions battered against the cool press of glass, the barrage dissolving into wistful yearning that never met their target, as there was none to meet, not anymore. The reality of that nuance carved itself into his heart once more, reopening the jagged lacerations of a still bleeding wound. He looked down as he registered the slight jolt of pain, only to see a slender hand held up against his on the other side.

Severus' heart lurched as he desperately pressed his own hand against the Mirror once more, hoping that Lily could at least feel the warmth of his hand, his eyes conveying all that he had ever wanted to say. A loving, knowing smile answered his desperation, one he had only seen directed at the person he loathed the most, even after the bastard had met his just end. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he hastily blinked them away, having remembered that there was someone else in the room with him, having heard her shift at his side, the sound echoing in the din of his mind.

Severus' lips parted as he muttered words to ground himself, to convince his weary mind of the illusion he willingly submitted himself to. He was barely aware of what he was saying, the words tumbling out uncontrollably in a mishmash of foreign letters. He didn't even notice when he stopped talking as his words trailed off into the darkness. He might have stayed there all night, or perhaps forever, if he hadn't heard what he heard next.

A sharp hiss raked through the air, its harsh sibilance dragging its claws into his ears. The sound snagged unto his heartstrings, freezing their ends with its glacial touch. The illusion that Severus had been enraptured in shattered as his instincts took over, heeding the primal call as his head snapped in the girl's direction.

'It can't be! I must have imagined it! It shouldn't be pos-'

Severus' panicked internal monologue severed abruptly as a second hiss joined the first, this one sounding even more feral. A terror he hadn't felt in ten years, one that had been locked at the back of his mind, crashed through him in a torrent of anguished reminiscence. 

His mind unhelpfully supplied excuses for what had just happened, dishing out layers upon layers of it, piling up against the last defence he had set up. But try as he might to convince himself, all his efforts came crashing down on the weak foundation of his poor excuses when he caught sight of her profile.

Severus' eyes first located her wand out of instinct, and found that the girl's wand hand had lowered, barely providing sufficient lighting in the pitch of the night. Her hand trembled as the wood creaked in her grasp, the sliver light fluctuating in time with its caster's emotions. His gaze slowly moved upward, fearing what he might find, but still unable to look away. And when he finally did, his heart seized as the primal emotion crescendo and overwhelmed him.

Terror.

Harriet Potter's face was illuminated in stark relief, the pale light flowing over her curled lips in an expression Severus could only call livid. The shadows cast across her face made another crack split in his psych, only just holding back the rush of painful memories he'd rather forget. But even that resistance shattered when he met her eyes, and even through her glasses, there was no mistaking the terrible intent they held.

He had only seen such on expression of that intensity on one other person, and one person only, as the others by his side had adopted their own variations of it, but none could compare to the one the Dark Lord had, the cruel delight highlighted into a single emotion:

Murderous.

His shields finally broke as the memories of Severus' servitude under the Dark Lord crashed like a mighty wave into every corner of his mind, drowning out any semblance of common sense, and washing him away to the scenes of his corruption.

The moans of the dying, trailing off into laboured breaths. The silent anguish etched into every crevice of Crucio'd body that could no longer scream. The single gasp of surprise leaving the mouth of the final victim succumbing to his Killing Curse. And beyond that, the cruel face looking on at his work in murderous pride...

And the mounds of mutilated corpses. So many that had died by his own hand, and many more by the hands of those of his sworn allies. And from among them, a cocoon of crimson and faded green belonging to a cold body that he had held in his own arms...

Severus closed his eyes against the horrors as he beat them back, forcing his mind back under his control. He reopened his eyes as slowly as he could, taking stock of his bearings. His hand was still on the Mirror, and he didn't dare look into its depths, knowing that he would never be able to save himself from drowning in them again. He slowly detached his hand from its surface, crossing his arms as tightly as he could, only then realizing that he had drawn out his wand from its holster, and had been poised to lash out at his attacker at any given moment. The piece of wood creaked in his hand as he faced his student, his face smoothing out into the best emotionless mask he could conjure in that moment.

"Miss Potter." Severus' nearly choked as he forced her name out around his enclosed throat. The figure in his periphery cocked her head at him, as she was wont to do, and the one in front of him seemingly copied her movement, as if they had both choreographed it.

'Damn it.'

But Severus did not make that new development distract him, not for long anyway, filing it away in his mind, as his words delivered cold blows at the young girl. His own words were harsh and grating even to his own ears, and he couldn't possibly imagine how the girl would take them. But perhaps he hadn't said them to caution her, but rather for his own sake, to convince himself to not succumb anymore to his irrational desires.

Severus watched as her face morphed from that terrifying expression, which he was now sure that he had imagined, to one of a lost little girl, and that was what she was. Severus knew that he had been cruel to her as he kneeled down to her height. His voiced softened into a gentle tone as he spoke words of comfort to her. He knew that she was barely listening, having taken notice of her slumped shoulders and defeated profile. A weary sigh escaped him as he stood, thrusting her cloak into her arms. The girl had left quietly, taking her light with her. 

Alone in the dark, Severus chanced a glance over his shoulder at the Mirror, briefly tempted to ignite his wand and go over to it once more. But the echoing footsteps ahead of him prevented him from going back to his past, as his present held something equally dear to him, though he wished that the inevitable endearment had been a simple one. He turned his back as he took measured steps out toward the door, but he still couldn't help but turn around and have one last look.

The wan evening moonlight painted its soft glow on the frame of the ornate structure, tempting him to go back to it. Severus turned his back to it in a silent goodbye, mentally vowing to never look into its depths again.

Severus' footsteps fell in time with a recitation of his new promise, the one he had vowed to himself in the privacy of his own rooms. And for the first time that evening, his thoughts rang clear as he escorted his charge into the night, firm in his decision to uphold his promise.

...

Breakfast the next morning was an awkward affair.

The warm presence at his side, that he had gotten used to in the last two days, now felt like thorns digging into his skin. The screech of a fork dragging across her plate made Severus chance a quick look at Po- the girl.

The girl's glazed eyes watched as her unsteady hand stabbed a fork into an offending piece of sausage on her plate. Severus ignored the way the red rims around them stabbed at his chest, the unexpectedly sharp edge slipping between his ribs, and into his heart, in the same manner in which she stabbed at her offending breakfast. 

Severus refocused on his own breakfast, mulish in his own way, and minded his own business.

He heard the youngest Weasley boy broke out in laughter, the noise grating in his ears. 

'Perhaps, punishing him will make me feel better?'

...

The days blurred past as the weight of that fateful evening crushed his shoulders. 

Severus fell back uneasily into his daily routine: reporting to Dumbledore, brewing potions, teaching the dunderheads, and drinking himself to sleep. Just the usual really. With the added bonus of Parseltongue in his nightmares. 

He had of course withheld the news of the girl's ability to speak Parseltongue, not knowing how Dumbledore would react to that particular tidbit of information, and doubting his recollection of that night himself.

Severus had noticed her haggard appearance in the following days, favouring ignorance both for his own sake, and hers. The hellspawns had returned to school, and he eased himself into the familiar routine of filling up their empty heads. 

The girl had, of course, kept up with her Potions class, as always, outstanding in her knowledge of the subject. She lit up every time he gestured at her to speak up, and he always rewarded her with nothing more than a passing nod in her general direction. Severus ignored the way her eyes would dim at his response, refusing to acknowledge the dejected look on her face every time he did so, and strengthen his resolve even more to uphold his word. This class was no different.

...

Severus should have known that peace was never an option for him, had never been in fact, in his entire life. The boiling rage that had tipped his hand into action, had now simmered into worst form of guilt he had ever felt. He felt his heart break into a thousand pieces as he held out his hand to the crying girl, her image overlapping with a memory he longed to forget, as she wailed:

“What took you so long?”