i'm here with the door wide open
Leonora Lesso, cane in hand, enters last, her demeanor as defiant as ever. There's a noticeable tension in the air as she takes her seat at Minerva’s desk, eyes meeting the woman briefly before shifting away to greet Clarissa with a nod. Severus Snape, standing beside one of the stone pillars, wears his usual stoic expression, but a subtle furrow in his brow suggests at least mild concern.
Minerva rises from her seat, her voice cutting through the room. "We need to address the recent events in the Forbidden Forest. I'll start by saying that unauthorized expeditions into dangerous territories are unacceptable, especially for a member of staff." She eyes Leonora sharply, her lips pursed.
Seemingly unfazed, Leonora meets her superior’s gaze with a defiant stare and leans back in her chair. "I don't recall needing permission for my actions."
Minerva's jaw tightens but she maintains her composure. "The safety of this school and its inhabitants, which includes you, is my responsibility. If you have information relevant to the recent incidents, it should have been shared with me and not pursued in isolation. We are a team, and we need to act as such."
Then the redhead smirks, a hint of rebellion in her eyes. "I've been handling things on my own for a long time, Minerva.” She leans forward, both hands resting on the handle of the cane. “And I don't need a reminder of teamwork, especially when it comes to matters I understand better than anyone here."
But the headmistresses’ stern expression remains unchanged. "This is not a matter of expertise, Leonora; it's a matter of accountability. We cannot have you acting independently, especially when dealing with dangerous creatures and mysteries beyond our understanding. You should have at least involved Severus, if not him then Clarissa, who, if I remember correctly and that I usually do, was supposed to accompany you anyway. Albus isn’t here anymore, and with his departure, the ties to the ministry have weakened. He won't be able to bail you out if you happen to be forced to return to Azkaban."
Clarissa's eyes widen with shock at the mention of Azkaban. The revelation hangs in the air, a heavy truth that she had been oblivious to now crashing down on her like ice cold water. The atmosphere in the room shifts and the weight of Leonora's past crimes begins to settle on Clarissa's shoulders. A storm of questions picks up in Clarissa's mind, threatening to overwhelm her, and she can't help but wonder about the events that led to Leonora being sent to Azkaban and what darkness might linger in her past.
That’s when the tension in the room escalates, and the glares exchanged between Minerva and Leonora almost spark a duel. “How dare you mention—” the redhead sneers, only held back by the presence of both Severus and Clarissa. Her left hand shakes — the Transfiguration professor notices it when she moves them, ready to draw her wand — but when Leonora follows her gaze and is aware of the unwanted attention she quickly settles and curls her fingers back around the sculptured dragon.
However, Minerva continues, unfazed. "I will not tolerate insubordination, Leonora. You are a valuable member of this staff, but you are not exempt from the rules that apply to everyone.”
Leonora's response is a low, defiant laugh. "Rules were never my strong suit, Minerva. I act in the best interest of Hogwarts, even if it means breaking a few rules to get things done."
“Leonora,” Severus' smooth voice travels through the room, “Enough.” He gives her a stern look, a silent command to rein in her rebellious spirit.
Glancing at the man dressed in black, a mix of defiance and a grudging nod to his authority has her settling back into the chair, though the fire in her gaze doesn't waver. The meeting continues, but Severus, vigilant as ever, notices the subtle signs of discomfort on Leonora's face.
Her hand unconsciously curls, fingers gripping the handle tighter before releasing it again, nail scraping over the scales, a reaction Severus recognizes all too well. He feels the familiar tingling on his own arm, although he doubts it is as strong as Leonora’s judging by her reaction, and without a word grips the woman’s shoulder, fingertips digging into the fabric as he pulls her to stand. Casting a pointed look at his former student he turns to face Minerva.
“Thank you for your time” he says through gritted teeth, “I will take over from here.”
Ignoring Clarissa, the man pushes the stumbling redhead towards the door and slams it shut behind them, unaware of the cane lying on the floor in front of the large desk.
As the door closes behind Severus and Leonora, Clarissa can't shake the unsettling feeling that lingers in the air. An elusive darkness seems to cling to her senses, sticky and hard to get rid of. Unsure of its origin she turns to Minerva, who has been observing the exchange with a stern expression.
"Minerva," Clarissa begins cautiously, "there's something... off. A sort of darkness. I've felt it more strongly in recent days. It's as if there's something lurking in the shadows, but I can't pinpoint its source. I thought you might have noticed.”
Ever perceptive, the elderly witch studies Clarissa for a moment before sighing. "I can't say that I have, Clarissa. But I would not be surprised if you are the first one to notice it, given your title.”
Clarissa, still troubled by the lingering darkness, presses further. "Do you have any idea what it might be? I can't shake the feeling that everything is connected to the recent events in the Forbidden Forest."
“You possess unique abilities, Clarissa. Your connection to magical energies is unlike most, perhaps you are feeling the danger coming from the forest. Still, I have to warn you not to follow Leonora’s example and investigate on your own.”
The blonde woman has to smile lightly. “Even if I wanted to, I simply couldn’t. Do not worry about me.”
Two floors and five classrooms away, in a broom closet barely big enough for Severus himself, crisp, white fabric rips and reveals angry lines. The serpent twists and writhes, a sinister brand on her pale skin, and Severus pushes her so sit on a wooden stool when he notices the last remaining bit of color draining from Leonora’s face.
"How bad is it?" he inquires, his tone low and measured. With one hand tilting the woman’s head back he makes sure her back is against the wall, keeping her upright and supported for now.
"It's been more active lately. The pain is getting worse," she whispers, a hint of frustration left in her voice. “Do you not feel it?”
“I haven’t felt it in five years, Leonora” the man replies and brings the woman’s arm closer to the only source of light, a tiny window on their left, to inspect it.
Severus's expression remains impassive, but concern flickers in his dark eyes. "We need to address this. Concealing it won't suffice, especially with the increased activity and your inability to hide it any longer. Your new" he pauses for a moment before continuing smoothly, a slight mock in his voice, “love interest is sharper than you think.”
His words make her roll her eyes at him. Skipping the comment, Leonora focuses on their main topic. “How? I barely recover anymore, my leg is hurting all the damn time, I feel like my head is threatening to split any given second, my arm is on fire. What do you expect me to do?”
"Focus. Pull yourself together. The pain is an unfortunate consequence that you have to endure for now. You cannot afford to be crippled by it and I expect more from you. You’ve done better in the past"
Leonora glares at him, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I've endured it for over five years, Severus. Don't patronize me."
His gaze remains unyielding. "Then you should be accustomed to it.” With that he janks open the door and disappears, leaving the redhead behind, and the moment his frame is out of her view Leonora’s shoulders slump forward. Maybe Minerva was right. She shouldn’t have ventured out by herself.
Still, she continues to teach. Her cane is found leaning against the bedside table the next morning, a note from Clarissa attached to it.
Found it lying in Minerva’s office and asked a house elf to deliver it to you. I hope the way back wasn’t too bad. Meet me for tea today? We could play some chess.
— Clarissa
Leonora tosses it back on the nightstand and gets out of bed, the distance she has walked without the cane the day before noticeable, until the hot water from the shower soothes it at least slightly.
After finishing her duties in the potions classroom for the day, her mind momentarily shifts to the note left by Clarissa. The reminder of tea and chess brings a subtle warmth, and with the day's lessons concluded, the woman takes a moment to prepare herself for the informal gathering. The pain in her leg is a constant companion, a nagging reminder that even moments of respite are fleeting. Regardless, she dons a mask of composure, concealing the struggles beneath the surface, makes sure her hair looks decent and steps out to head upstairs.
Making her way to the other woman’s office, Leonora anticipates the simple pleasures of conversation and the strategic motion of chess. After a firm knock against heavy, wooden doors they swing open and reveal her colleague at her desk, looking down on rolls of parchment.
“I am here” Leonora announces and approaches her. “Am I interrupting anything of importance? Probably not.”
Clarissa has to chuckle. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“Severus said that to me in my first year” she replies casually and looks around, takes in the decorations and portraits, before curling her fingers around the backrest of the wooden chair in front of Clarissa’s desk. “He called me an insufferable know-it-all after my second potions class. Little did he know that I would at some point end up improving his Wolfsbane Potion.” With that she sits down.
Clarissa, amused by Leonora's banter, sets aside the parchment she was reviewing. "Well, it seems you have a talent for proving people wrong, then."
Leonora smirks. "Oh, absolutely. I make it a point to keep everyone on their toes."
“I noticed that yesterday, in McGonagall's office. Was there a particular reason why Severus dragged you out of there so suddenly? I understand if you were annoyed or angry at her for scolding you in front of us, but Severus? It was rather surprising, at least to me.”
“Oh, we had a rather—” she pauses for a moment, appears to think, “heated argument outside. Nothing to be concerned about.”
Happy with the answer, the Transfigurations Professor nods and rises from her chair. “Understandable. I was just worried. Are you up for chess?”
Leonora’s lips curl to a smile. “Always,” she says and, after pushing herself up, follows the other woman to the couch to sit down again.
As they settle into their chess match, the pieces move across the board and the atmosphere between them is one of friendly competition, temporarily pushing aside Leonora’s pain and Clarissa’s questions that are almost burning on her tongue.
At some point two glasses of wine appear on the table by the board and Leonora hums in appreciation before her fingers curl around the clear glass.
“What’s next, crackers?” she asks teasingly and can’t help but smile when a bowl manifests. “You seem to be one of the favorites down in the kitchen.”
The Transfiguration Professor shrugs. “I am just polite.”
The chess pieces freeze mid-move as Leonora suddenly winces, her fingers involuntarily clenching around the wine glass. A sudden tension flares up and Clarissa's concern deepens when she notices the subtle flicker of pain on Leonora's face. "Leonora, are you all right?" she asks, her eyes narrowing with worry.
The redhead hesitates for a moment, her grip on the glass tightening further. "It's nothing," she dismisses, attempting to hide the discomfort. However, before their eyes, the glass in Leonora's hand cracks, then shatters, its fragments scattering across the chessboard and floor. Clarissa gasps, her eyes widening as she notices blood on Leonora's palm.
"Merlin, you're bleeding!" the woman exclaims, her anxiety escalating. Without waiting for a response, she quickly summons a cloth to staunch the bleeding, her hands moving with a mixture of urgency and concern.
Leonora, though appearing unfazed, winces as she lets go. "It's just a scratch, Clarissa. No need to—”
The moment their eyes meet and Clarissa's fingers touch Leonora's, an unexpected surge of energy courses through them. It's as if time itself warps and their surroundings blur into a chaotic mix of darkness and light, gold and a murky green, almost black.
Clarissa's mind is flooded with haunting images — bodies stewing in blood scattered on tiles, a snake, a face, cold, snakelike eyes staring directly at her. The malevolence in that gaze sends a shiver down her spine and for a disorienting moment, she's transported to darkness, surrounded by screams. One she notices immediately — Leonora’s.
On the other side, the redhead is engulfed in a blaze of golden light, warmth radiating through every fiber of her being. It's an intense, almost overwhelming sensation, like being immersed in pure fire, but instead of stopping it only gets worse, liquid gold pooling over her arm, melting her skin to cover the Dark Mark. It hurts, so bad, worse than anything she has ever experienced, but she doesn’t know if she hears her own voice screaming out or someone else.
As quickly as it began, the strange connection snaps back to reality. Clarissa pulls her hand back as if she has been burned, eyes wide with confusion and fear. Leonora blinks rapidly, disoriented by the sudden burst of light as she slips from the chair to the carpet, one hand wrapped around the tattoo as she presses her arm against her abdomen, back curling above. The dark border of her field of vision pulses like her heartbeat, retreats and reappears again, and she gasps for air with every breath.
"What just happened?" Clarissa breathes, her voice trembling with uncertainty. Searching for her colleague she finds her on the floor but, terribly afraid to reach out and touch her again, the woman shakily locates her wand and levitates her to the couch. “Leonora, what in the Storian’s—”
“Shut up” the redhead gasps, withering on the couch as she turns her back towards Clarissa, her arm still pressed against her stomach. Blood oozes through the gaps of her fingers as it stains the crisp, white blouse and the gray fabric of her coat, and a metallic scent hangs in the air.
Torn between concern and the unsettling experience they just shared, Clarissa hesitates before casting a spell to clean the blood from Leonora's hand. Still, it continues, soaking through the layers before dripping onto the couch. Feeling helpless and utterly confused, the blonde woman doesn’t know what to do. "Why doesn't it stop?" Clarissa's plea hangs in the air and she tries again, only to remove the blood and watch it reappear. “Please, let me help you.”
Leonora's breaths come in ragged gasps, her body tense. Her gaze meets Clarissa's with an intensity that cuts through the confusion and in a moment of vulnerability, her trembling fingers release their grip, weakly ripping the fabric of her blouse to reveal the source of the unstoppable bleeding — the dark skull with its serpent, moving against the now stained skin, with its edge raised and bare flesh underneath.
Clarissa's eyes widen as the unmistakable image comes into view. It stares back at her, an ominous symbol of everything evil, and when she sees the torn skin she wonders how Leonora has managed to stay conscious.
But her voice is strained, a mixture of pain and resignation evident, almost distant, as if she has managed to disconnect her mind from her body. It scares Clarissa. "This is why it won't stop.”