The underground prison was as dim as ever. There was a sharp ache all over her body, but most notably in her stomach. Rigel let out a weak groan, barely above a whisper. She scanned the space, though her eyes were begging to stay shut.
Pettigrew wasn't there.
Good. That meant she had to make the best use of her time.
She tried to get up, but her body rebelled angrily. She exhaled softly and rested her head back on the muddy ground.
Rigel grumbled slightly, but relented at the pain in her neck and limbs. She wouldn't get up until it was sorely needed.
Still, that didn't stop her from thinking of ways out, now did it? True, she had already gone over them all before, each more unlikely than the next, but Rigel wasn't one to give up just because the task ahead just seemed to inch closer to impossible every time she tried.
I need some way to send a message, Rigel thought, Hopefully without letting Pettigrew know.
But what?
If an onlooker were to focus on the young Slytherin's face, they would see the widening of her eyes as some hope returned to them, the slightest of water streaking down a face caked with dirt. They would see lips cut and parched from screaming with unbearable pain, press together, then open to breathe out two words.
"APatronus,"
And somehow, she found it in her to stand.
Rigel leaned against the wall as her vision swam. It was no use. She had been foolish to hope.
Hadn’t she read that the Patronus charm was one of the most difficult charms to master? That most adult wizards failed? Why had she thought she could do it, weak and frail as her body and magic were currently? Withouta wand?!!
Arrogance, She thought morosely, then shook her head.
Desperation.
Rigel doubted such a feeling could fuel the Patronus charm, but for the life of her she couldn't summon up any good memories. Every thought she brought to the forefront of her mind was twisted by the time she could truly analyse it, then seemed to dissolve in her prison, just as she was sure she would, too.
I doubt I have any good memories that are strong enough, anyway. She thought.
Pettigrew would be back soon, she knew. And she would have accomplished nothing except weakening herself further for it.
She shook her head sharply, then paused to let the vertigo such a movement brought settle. It wasn't her speaking those words.
It was this place, messing with her head.
But how to fight it?
She took another deep breath, then collapsed to the floor and pulled herself in a manner comfortable enough for meditation. A minute later found her in the Space Room of her mindscape.
She immersed herself in memories like they were the only unadulterated air she could breathe, which was true, in a way. When she was back, she felt a bit more confident. A bit more brave.
She held her wand arm forward, and pulled her softest, sweetest memories to the fore before the horrors around her could touch them.
It started with Professor Snape's voice.
"For seven years, your goals are my goals. Your plans and dreams and schemes will become my own motivations, and as long as you dwell herein I pledge to assist you in realising all your endeavours…"
She turned at the door, one hand on the handle, and said, "You won't regret this, Professor Snape. I promise you."
"Of that I have no doubts, Mr. Black."
"We're real friends, aren't we?" Draco prompted, stiffly vulnerable.
"It seems you inspire loyalty in all your friends, Rigel," Pansy said amusedly
Archie gave a reassuring thumbs-up, "See you tomorrow, Harry. And don't worry—we'll get through this firestorm."
"And find stars on the other side, right, Archie?" It was something Aunt Diana used to say.
"And find worlds on the other side, Harry."
A 6 year old Harriet Potter reached up to one of the higher shelves in a Magazines and Periodicals shop and saw Severus Snape for the first time, a vial in hand and staring neutrally through the picture. Harry saw that the potion was a cure for some disease and thought of Aunt Diana, ill with something with no cure. She had several years, she promised herself then, and someday she would make a potion like this — no, many potions like this — and change the world.
Her first Potions kit.
Her pride when—
"One day I will have to stop underestimating you, child."
"Mr. Black," Snape looked her over briefly, "You appear to be in good health after all."
"Were you ill, Rigel?" Mrs. Malfoy asked.
Rigel felt her cheeks colour ever so slightly as Pansy and Draco burst into amused laughter. She shook her head, but Draco had to explain, "Rigel was off his potion-brewing," he said between laughs, "He doesn't brew for two nights in a row, and Uncle Snape can only assume he's been severely ill. Almost didn't let him play this afternoon, he was so worried."
Snape's, "I was merely concerned for the health of one of my students," went unheeded. The Malfoy's shot both Rigel and Snape amused looks, though for differing reasons.
All Rigel could do was ignore the warmth in her chest.
She wasn't ignoring it now.
Harry gazed up at Master Hurst with something like awe in her chest and disbelief in her expression, "The Guild only gives internships to three students a year."
"That's true," Hurst said, smiling.
"And those three are always at least at journeyman level."
"They are," Hurst said, "But then…so are you."
Snape made an exasperated noise, "You impertinent child, stop pouting. You will only be working on one potion in your personal time this month because you will be assisting me in your free time as well."
"Assisting?" Rigel could feel her smile coming back and repressed it with effort, "What kind of work will I be assisting with, sir?"
Snape levelled a look at her that made it clear he could see the smile straining at the corner of her mouth and was not at all impressed by her attempts to dissuade it.
Hagrid shook his bushy head slowly, "Silly, that's what they are. Talkin' to snakes don't make you evil—beatin' house elves and killin' centaurs fer sport, that's what makes you a real monster."
Harriet Potter took a deep breath, and let it all out.
"Expecto Patronum!"
And there was a wisp of silver before her knees gave way.
When Rigel awoke, Pettigrew was back.
And so was the torture he brought with him.
Sometimes her mind went to dark places, she admitted grudgingly, and the idea of pulling out her suppressor ring and letting Pettigrew take her magic (and later her life) didn't feel so bad. Anything was better than this.
And then she was reminded of the sour truth: Anything meant the destruction of the world and the subjugation of sentience, of free will, with nothing but a man mad with desires and crooked ambitions to dictate it.
Anything was better than that, not this.
And so she couldn't give up. She wouldn't give up.
After an indefinite time, Pettigrew was gone again. Rigel lay panting and gasping on the floor for breath, a shove away from unconsciousness. She didn't know if she should try to cast the Patronus again. She didn't know if she wanted to try.
On one hand, she'd managed to produce a wisp of silver smoke wandlessly the last time. On the other hand, she'd blacked out right after. Rigel hadn't even been able to see it disappear.
Who was to say that after summoning a corporeal patronus, she'd be able to stay conscious enough to give it a message, forgetting, for the moment, that producing such a patronus wandlessly was impossible?
Damn it, she thought, I don't have the strength to argue with myself over this. Let's get to it, impossibility be damned.
So she pushed herself and tried once. And then again. She tried until she couldn't stand anymore. The furthest she went was a wisp of silver-white mist.
But for all that her efforts were at standstill, and for all that she tried every time Pettigrew left and she was in a position to do so and yet still failed to do better than that, time went by on its usual pace, and Pettigrew got the genius idea to do it all over again!
It was a twist of fate that saved her: her magic. It attacked Pettigrew when the moment was most opportune, she went into her mindscape and finally made peace with it, and came out to find Pettigrew dead.
The fact that the Dominion Jewel pushed its way into her head would have been the last card had it not been for the relief Rigel got when she got her wand back.
She took a day to rest, or at least, her approximation of a day, then spent hours reviewing memories that brought a smile to her face.
This time, when she held her wand in the textbook position for casting the patronus charm, she thought she had a better understanding of what qualified as a "happy" memory. She tried to calm the tremors in her body and brought those memories to the forefront of her mind in a near-overwhelming surge.
Mrs. Hurst scooped her up and held her tight like a mother would, like a mother should, and Harriet let herself sink into someone for the first time since the ruse began. There was warmth, and there was acceptance, and there was love, because…
There was Leo with his usual warm smile and his truthful words, "The alleys look after their own, lass," And those words touched her because…
And then Pansy's face was buried in Rigel's shoulder, and the blonde girl's arms went around her torso, "You were dying?" she asked, stricken, "Y-you really almost died?" And this mattered because…
Rigel shook his head, "No, but Professor Flitwick did offer to give me an extension on the first quarter project." Rigel's tone of voice made it clear how ridiculous he thought such an offer was. "Then Professor Sprout looked right at me when she randomly decided to cancel one of our essays last week, and even Flint tried to let up on Quidditch practice a couple of weeks ago." And only now she understood that it wasn't pity, that it was something so much more, something she would give anything to have again because…
Lily was looking at Harry with a measure of true pride, and it mattered because…
"You foolish child, they would only be proud of your gifts," Snape hissed fiercely, "And enraged to see you squandering them." And it mattered because…
…because she was cared for as she was , whether as Rigel or Harriet or Harry, and no one could take that away from her!
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
There was a blinding surge of light from her wand that made her eyes water, but she didn't let it go, only continued to pour more of herself into it, until the light collapsed in on itself and took the shape of a raven.
Her eyelids were drooping, and her body was trembling, but something about the raven seemed to bring some life in her, even as it took something to sustain itself.
"Go," She said hoarsely, "t-to Professor Snape,"
The raven stared at her curiously.
"Oh, right," Rigel said under her breath, "I need a message,"
She sank to the floor in an attempt to save some energy and said, "P-Professor Snape? It's Rigel. I'm in the forbidden forest out… of castle grounds…. P- Peter Pettigrew took me captive… and I'm… two-stories… underground… Please s-send… some help…… oh! And… he… had…my time-turner…?"
Rigel didn't think she was capable of talking anymore, so she sent the Raven a pleading look and hoped her earlier command to go to Professor Snape had been enough. She didn't precisely know the exact method of sending messages via Patronus. She would look that up… later… when Professor Snape… came…
Her eyes fluttered close, and her last sweeping thought was that it might already be too late. But she had tried, and that had to count for something, right?
Severus was making his way through the corridor when it happened.
In a flash of silvery white, a patronus materialised. He frowned. It was a raven. He didn't remember anyone with such a Patronus, and certainly not Albus or the staff.
His curiosity was replaced by growing horror when it relayed its message in Rigel's voice… only broken and hoarse.
He sent a quick message to Albus via Patronus himself, then muttered, "Point me: Rigel Black,"
It spun around uselessly, confused.
Severus grit his teeth.
"You're having trouble too?" A familiar voice blurted.
Severus swung about and found his godson and Rigel along with Pansy Parkinson.
He wasn't sure what to say without risking the integrity of time, so for the moment he ignored this version of Rigel.
Instead he put his hand firmly on his godson's and steered him away from the other two.
"Having trouble with what? " He asked carefully.
Draco looked sheepish, "With tracking Rigel. I thought he was up to something, so I put a tracker in his shoe, but the product was acting all weird and showing multiple places at once."
Cursing silently, Severus took the parchment Draco withdrew from the folds of his robes. He studied the scale, then spotting the dot which was likely in the forbidden forest, navigated his way towards it.
"That can't be Rigel though, can it?" Draco said in surprise, "You just saw him."
Severus didn't look at him as he said, "If you would kindly join your friends once more and mention nothing of this, Draco,"
Draco paused in confusion but said, "Of course, Professor," and left.
Severus continued to make his way.
When Rigel awoke, it was to her head on someone's lap, and a jug of water was being poured down her throat. She rasped and let out a groan of pain, while drinking greedily.
Her mind was an utter mess.
"Snape…?" She said through her disbelief and relief, "Is this a dream?"
"No. I'm going to get you out of here," His familiar voice told her while propping up her neck for another swig. Rigel wanted to cry out at the relief his voice brought, even though she doubted the Patronus had gone through. Could spells like that even work if the castor was unconscious midway?
Rigel laughed bitterly, "You can't. Only creatures…can get in and out. This is a dream." Then her voice softened, or rather, weakened somewhat, "But it's… good anyway. At least I'm… not alone."
Snape said nothing and refilled the canteen again. Rigel's eyes followed the stream of water with sadness. "I didn't…think of that. Stupid. I drank all my potions, and didn't think of the Aguamenti…Spell. Ha. Haha." She coughed softly again. "And now I'm too weak…to use my magic. Weak even in my dreams." How pathetic, that she could pour her life into making a Patronus work, but a mere Aguamenti wouldn't come to mind. I really do have a big head, she thought sadly.
"You are not stupid," Severus said sharply. "No doubt you were delirious from your ordeal. How long have you been down here?"
"Down here?" Rigel's face screwed up unhappily. "Up there? I… don't know. What day is it?"
"Sunday morning," He said.
"More than a week," She gasped out weakly. She wanted to rest again, but she felt she needed to say this, "Pettigrew didn't know you could go back…a full week the first time. Didn't know much…about time-turners. Sorry…I let him get…" she trailed off into weak coughs as Snape stared in detached horror as he realised the full extent of what Pettigrew had done.
"Do not apologise," Professor Snape said. "I know you would never willingly give up the time-turner to him. You did nothing wrong."
"I did…lots of things wrong," she said slowly, looking past Snape's bent head at the dirt ceiling above them. She could not face him as she said this, though she wanted to, "I'm sorry, though. I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I just…wanted to learn Potions…from you. Sorry. I—" More coughing, but her voice was getting clearer. "I've been really selfish, haven't I? But I learned…my lesson. Really."
"Stop, Rigel. I know you didn't mean for this to happen. Pettigrew's death was self-defence."
Rigel frowned faintly. "I don't think…it was. Was it? It's hard to think. My head hurts all the time. I think…I'm dying. Maybe you're my angel. I wonder…if you'd let me take my bag with me? Maybe they have cauldrons…wherever I'm going." The thought consoled her a little.
"You are not dying," Snape snarled.
"Feels like I've been dying…for ages," Rigel panted. She fell silent for a moment, then her eyes began welling up with tears. "I can't take my potions kit, can I? Cause I…ate it all." Rigel hiccupped sadly. "It feels like I made a potion in my stomach. Only all it does is…hurt."
"You foolish child," Snape said, frustration building at the helplessness he felt. "Does it hurt anywhere else? Are you injured anywhere?"
Rigel blinked slowly. "Yes. In my head…there's a lot of pain."
"Did you hit it on something?" Snape began feeling her filthy scalp, searching for contusions.
"No," Rigel said on a long breath. "I ripped it up a little bit…inside."
Snape frowned in concern as he realised she was referring to her mindscape, "Is that where you were, before you woke up?"
"Am I awake?" Rigel shuddered. "I don't want to be. I was thinking of something happy, I think. Was it you? Ah, I remember now. I planned to sleep until you found me."
"Do you remember why Pettigrew took you, Rigel? What did he want?" Snape asked gently.
Rigel grimaced. "Yes. He wanted my magic, he said. Or the… jewel wanted it, probably. I think it was…controlling him all along."
"I think it killed him," Rigel said seriously after a moment. "When I woke up, he was just…like that. Mummified. The jewel used to belong to the ancient Egyptians, you know. Do you think it…mummified all of them?"
Snape shifted Rigel's head to the side, making to move toward the corpse of Peter Pettigrew, and she let out a whimper of fear, "Don't leave me. I don't want to be… alone anymore."
Snape put aside the impotent rage, saying softly, "I'm not leaving. I'm just going to have a look at Pettigrew."
"No, don't go, please," she begged, eyes imploring. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for everything. I'm sorry for lying and sorry for making you worry and—"
"Rigel, I am not leaving you," Snape said, trying to penetrate her confusion. "I just need to—" He broke off even trying and simply raised his wand instead. "Accio jewel."
Nothing happened, and Rigel started to laugh. "If you want the jewel, you're gonna be…gonna be disappointed. It's gone. Ha. Gone and got just what it wanted, didn't it? Ha. In the end we were both stupider…than that ruddy hunk of rock."
Snape frowned in thought, but did nothing except stroke a hand across Rigel's head in a soothing manner.
After some time, Rigel began to try to sit up, groaning all the while. Severus helped where he could, but she was in bad shape. "This…is this real, Professor? Is that why it hurts so much?"
"I'm afraid so, Mr. Black," Severus said. "The pain will be gone soon."
"Because you're rescuing me," she said slowly, almost awed. The shambled mess of her mind seemed to be reasserting itself bit by bit. "I…I hoped that someone would, but it was hard to believe you'd have any way of finding me, even after the Patronus. The forest is huge. I had no idea how long I'd been down here. I thought maybe…that maybe weeks had passed and no one was coming." She began to cry again, but this time stifled the tears in her grimy sleeve. "I—" Her breath hitched violently. "I can't believe I'm alive. I don't want to have the time-turner anymore. Can you take it?"
Snape stared, utterly flummoxed, as she shakily pointed to a mokeskin pouch nearby. He took it up and looked inside, finding Pettigrew's wand along with the time-turner, looking a bit dirty but perfectly workable. "I don't understand," he said, frowning, "Why didn't you use it to go back before the wards were set?"
A shamed look filtered into Rigel's eyes. "I couldn't go back before Tuesday. Before Pettigrew took me, I'd done Tuesday morning five times. Three times for my classes, and twice more for…reasons I now see were irresponsible," And then she remembered, and let out a harsh laugh, "And all of this is for no use, Professor. I'm going to die anyway. Or at least lose my magic. This is the second time since Pettigrew had taken me back in time. When Tuesday comes, I will have seven cores existing in the same time stream,"
"No," Snape's first words were a denial, " No. "
Rigel let her gaze fall to the floor and blinked back another onset of tears. At least she got to see her mentor again.
"... No, I was wrong. It is good that you found me, Professor," Rigel gave him a rather sad smile, "Or I would never have been able to do this." She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.
A second later, he did the same. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, "We are going to do something about this, you hear me? You are not dying. Nor are you losing your magic. I didn't teach you for three years for this to come of it."
She looked up at him, "But if this is what comes of it? If we really can't do anything? Would you…" she swallowed, "regret it? Teaching me?"
Their eyes met.
"No," He finally said, "I could never."
They said nothing more, and the only sound that punctuated the silence around them was Rigel sniffling while her face remained buried in his robes.