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Chapter Text

Severus learned about the concept of soulmates when he was a child, and his very first thought about it was that it sounded idiotic. Muggles and wizards alike all treated it like it was some sort of miracle. They said it was the best thing that could ever happen to someone. He listened to everyone talk about soulmates with so much pride and happiness. They seemed so pleased. And yet, all Severus could think was that they were fools.

He thought they were all blinded by this soulmate nonsense. There were more important things in life than devoting all of one's time to a stranger or someone one barely knew. Even their joy seemed like idiocy in his eyes. After all, his parents were soulmates and things between them couldn't have been more miserable.

Watching his parents was the biggest reason Severus was so against soulmates. But he knew his thoughts weren't logical. He saw numerous positive examples of soulmates in and out of Hogwarts, after all. His dislike for soulmates made as much sense as disliking marriage due to one's parents divorcing. He was entirely aware that it made little sense for him to feel this way, but even when he began realizing that…

Severus liked Lily. She was a sweet girl, very bright and lively, but she was also loud and even a little abrasive at times. But he liked her. It wasn't love. In his mind, those meant different things. He didn't much care for something like love.

Despite being soulmates, despite always telling her that he loved her, his father always hurt his mother. He hurt Severus too. If that was what love was, Severus wanted no part in it.

Still, he liked Lily. She wasn't perfect, but neither was Severus. He knew she didn't understand everything about his life, even the things he was more explicit about, but even though she didn't understand, she told him she wasn't willing to stop being his friend because of it. So, he liked her. And Lily had a soulmate.

Like everyone else who had one, Lily had a small mark on the inside of her left wrist. It was dark, like all marks, but was, unmistakably, a stag with a lily on its breast. Only matching mates had matching marks. Somewhere out there was one person whose wrist bore the same image as the one on Lily Evans'.

And that person wasn't Severus.

But he wasn't upset. He was a little disappointed, yes, but not upset. Not being Lily's soulmate wasn't the end of the world. It wasn't like he loved her, after all. So it was okay. It was. Not everyone had a soulmate, and it wasn't as if life was terrible for those who didn't. Most just kept it to themselves.

Soulmates didn't always live at the same time either, something else that Severus frequently questioned. For some, meeting, even in secret, wasn't feasible for numerous reasons. In even worse cases, one's soulmate ended up being someone terrible. No one had any say in who or what their mate was.

Severus didn't care much about having a soulmate, so it didn't bother him at all that the inside of his left wrist remained bare. It didn't. Really.

It didn't bother him when Black and Lupin ended up being soulmates, and it didn't bother him when Lucius and Narcissa turned out to be soulmates. And when it turned out that Lily's soulmate was Potter? That also didn't bother him. Not in the slightest.

Okay, so maybe it did bother him, but only a little. It would have been nice to have someone want him like other soulmates wanted each other. It would have been nice to have even one person just care. It didn't need to be Lily.

But the mark never appeared.

Severus graduated from Hogwarts without his soulmark ever appearing. Almost immediately after leaving the castle, he joined the Dark Lord, gaining a mark of an entirely different kind. Perhaps he wouldn't have become a Death Eater if he' had a soulmate. But it didn't matter anymore.

There was no leaving the Dark Lord's service. Death always came first.

And then everything changed.

Severus was twenty years old and still had no soulmark. Lily, however, was pregnant, and the Dark Lord had decided that her child was the one destined to defeat him. He wanted to kill it. The child, Potter, and Lily-he wanted all three of them gone. Severus couldn't let that happen.

He didn't care for Potter, but the child, not even born yet, hadn't done anything wrong. And then there was Lily. For a long time, Lily had been his only friend. He wanted her to be happy, and he was forced to admit that Potter made her feel exactly that. He couldn't let her family die. He just couldn't.

"But what if the prophecy is fake, my Lord?" asked Severus. "I have never heard of the seer who spoke it. Surely there must be a chance that it's wrong."

"I expect a chance of that," said the Dark Lord, "but even the slightest of chances cannot go ignored. You are a smart boy, Severus. You should already know this."

"I understand, my Lord, but even then, there is no proof that it speaks of the Potter child. There will be thousands of children born during the end of July."

"That may be true, but the child will be born to parents who have thrice defied me." Leaning back in his seat, the Dark Lord stroked his chin. "Very, very few have done that. So few, in fact, that there are only two options. My reasons for choosing the Potter child are my own."

"But-"

"Severus." There was a warning in the Dark Lord's tone now.

"I apologize, my Lord," said Severus immediately. But he still tried to convince him that the child was no threat to him. Tried, tried, tried, even when it got him tortured for being insolent.

But nothing worked.

The Dark Lord refused to listen. He didn't listen to anyone, in fact, which was odd even to Severus. It wasn't like the Dark Lord to behave this way.

Things grew chaotic after that.

Once the Dark Lord had made it clear that he wasn't going to change his mind, there was practically mass panic among the Death Eaters to locate the Potters. They were ordered not to harm them but were to report to their Lord the instant they found them, and Severus only became more conflicted as the days flew by.

Dismissed from another meeting, Severus slipped out of the room quickly and leaned against the wall, brushing hair out of his eye. That was when he saw it.

On the inside of his left wrist, there was a mark. It was a flower, a violet, he recognized, and in the centre of the violet was a small, indistinct shape that looked vaguely like a cauldron. He stared at it, confused, unsure when it had appeared, and it took him a few long minutes to understand what he was looking at. And then it hit him.

A soulmark.

Now that he'd noticed it, Severus had a hard time looking away from the mark, even though he knew he had little time to dwell on it. He had a job to do-a job that was becoming increasingly distasteful as the days went by.

The Dark Lord's behaviour continued to worsen. No one seemed to understand why he was suddenly putting so much stock into a prophecy when he'd never seemed to care for anything relating to divination before this. But no matter what any of the Death Eaters, regardless of their positions and seniority said or did, the Dark Lord never took heed of them.

Severus felt as if he only had one option left, and it was an option he hated. It was a last resort in almost every way, but he was quickly realizing that he had no other choice. If he didn't do this, if he didn't swallow his pride, Lily would die. And so, swallow that pride, he did.

"I see. This is most concerning." Dumbledore frowned. "You are doing an incredibly brave thing here today, Severus."

Dumbledore listened to everything Severus said, and then he vowed to protect the Potter family and gave him the job of potions professor at Hogwarts to help keep him safe.

Severus thought everything would be alright, then. He thought Dumbledore, who cared so much for his precious Gryffindors, would make sure of it.

But he didn't.

Some months later, on Halloween, Severus felt his Dark Mark burn so severely he nearly cried out. He pushed up his sleeve and much to his alarm, saw that the mark had faded. It wasn't gone, wasn't even close to being gone, but it had faded in a way he'd never seen before.

A few hours later, he found out why.

Dumbledore came to him and told him that the Dark Lord had gotten into the Potter household. He'd killed Potter, and he'd killed Lily, and he'd tried to kill their child-a girl whose name he vaguely recalled being told was Violet.

But the Dark Lord had failed in this final attack, his killing curse hitting the child but for a reason no one understood, rebounding off of her and back at him. And now he'd been vanquished, or so people were saying.

Severus only had to look at the mark on his left forearm to know that the Dark Lord wasn't gone for good, and he honestly had no idea how he felt about it. But there was more than that, too.

Though Dumbledore's expression and tone of voice had been sombre enough when delivering the terrible news, there was something in his eyes that had Severus raising his guard.

He couldn't put his finger on it, but something made it seem like Dumbledore was almost...pleased with what had happened. Pleased with the deaths? Pleased with the survivor?

Severus wasn't sure, but as someone who already had so many problems with Dumbledore, he felt positive that he could never truly trust the old Headmaster.

Potter was dead. Lily was dead. But their child... The child who was seemingly the cause of all of this appeared to be alive and safe. Did that help him at all? No, not really. It didn't make things any better for him, but he supposed it was enough.

It had to be.

Severus remained at Hogwarts, accepting Dumbledore's vague protection, glad it at least kept him out of Azkaban. He went on teaching, though it brought him little joy.

Children didn't understand how delicate and precise potion making was, didn't understand how it could save or kill. They were too caught up in all of the foolish wand-waving their other subjects provided that any class that didn't allow the same was a bore to them. Unnecessary.

He was strict-he needed to be to ensure they didn't kill themselves or their classmates, but even he knew he was being too strict. The other three Houses thought he was too lenient with the Slytherins and too harsh towards the rest of them, and while there was some truth to it, he couldn't say they were entirely accurate. After all, people only saw what they wanted to see, only heard what they wanted to hear.

Slytherins were the outcasts. They were treated coolly by the other three Houses, whether warranted or not, and it didn't help that an alarming number of them came from households that were abusive in some way. They had too many expectations heaped upon them at home and a different sort of expectation when they arrived at Hogwarts.

It was true that they retaliated and acted out, but they knew loyalty too, though they reserved it for their fellow Slytherins. And Severus was lenient on them, at least in front of the other Houses, but he knew just as well that he wasn't the only Head of House who was like that. Frankly, the other three were no different…

The years continued to pass and Severus never did manage to find out who his soulmate was. It wasn't a priority, he told himself, but he kept his eyes open, trying to spot someone who bore the same soulmark he did, though he always made sure his own was concealed. But he never found them.

And eventually, ten entire years had passed since the Halloween incident. It wasn't something Severus liked to think about very often, but there were always reminders around him and now, much to his dismay, there was a reminder he was going to be stuck with for the next seven years.

Violet Potter had arrived at Hogwarts.

Chapter Text

"Potter, Violet!"

Severus was somewhat surprised when Potter approached the wooden stool after McGonagall called her name. Not because of who she was or anything so mundane, but because of her appearance. He'd spotted her in the line with the other first years, but he hadn't immediately pegged her for who she was. And now that he was looking at her, he wondered why.

She looked just like her father.

She had the same facial structure, and the same dark, messy hair, though it sat at shoulder-length. Her fringe was messy as well, no doubt there to hide the scar on her forehead that everyone in the hall was attempting to gawk at.

But it was her eyes that made him think of Lily. They were the same shape and shade of green but were hidden by a pair of large, round glasses. It seemed she'd inherited her father's poor eyesight-a pity.

What was it that had caught him off guard? Her height, perhaps? She looked relatively small, certainly shorter than any of the other first years and shorter than he remembered Lily being when she'd been the same age. Neither Potter nor Lily had been abnormally tall, but neither had they been particularly short.

But he shrugged that off fairly quickly, assuming she would get taller once puberty kicked in. Her posture was something else that caught his eye. She was already small enough, but her hunched shoulders made her look even smaller.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Severus frowned and refocused as the girl headed off to her new House Table. He was a little disappointed that she had been Sorted there, and then wondered why he'd even expected otherwise. She was a Potter, after all, and even Lily had been Sorted into Gryffindor. Why had he thought there could even be another outcome?

But he continued to watch her, mostly out of a morbid sort of curiosity. The girl wasn't talking much but looked around at everything with wide eyes. The feast seemed to surprise her, but when she began to eat, she took very little food and hunched over her plate. He looked away at that point…

Severus didn't pay attention to the Potter girl again until her class had their first potions lesson on Friday.

He treated her unfairly during the lesson, questioning her about things few first-years would know the answers to. She was scribbling away in her notebook and he thought she wasn't paying attention.

He blamed her fame for it, even though there was a part of him that knew it was wrong. But he questioned her, and only her, and even took a point off, just one, for something she really had no fault in. And after the class was over and the students had left, he realized he'd been wrong.

Potter had left her notebook behind, by accident, no doubt, as she'd seemed to be in a great rush to leave. It was still open, so when he picked it up and took a closer look, he realized with a jolt that she had been paying attention. She'd been taking notes on what he'd been saying. No one else had bothered doing that, none of the Slytherins, and not even Granger.

"U-um…"

He looked up when he heard the voice and saw Potter hesitating in the doorway. Just the sight of her had guilt gnawing at his insides, so he held the notebook out to her. "Be more careful with your belongings, Potter." He saw the way her eyes widened, saw the tentative smile that crossed her face when she accepted the notebook from him, and watched as she all but fled.

Yet the guilt remained.

Severus tried to ignore it as time passed but it never did go away. If anything, it only seemed to get worse. He knew why, as well. He wanted to hate her. He wanted to loathe her. But he couldn't. Really, what had she done that was so wrong? What had she done to warrant his hatred? Very little, and nothing children her age didn't typically do.

Alright, so most eleven-year-olds didn't try to take down mountain trolls to save a friend's life, but he and the rest of the staff were just as much to blame for leaving the students alone. Prefects were children too, after all. And really, if Potter and Weasley hadn't done what they had, then Granger would certainly be dead right now.

The results of the flying lessons made Severus quite angry, too, until he ended up overhearing Potter speaking to Granger, telling her that she wasn't sure what to think about the Seeker position and being on the team. She claimed she wasn't sure she even wanted to play, but the team seemed so pleased to have her and she was worried about disappointing them.

He blamed Dumbledore and McGonagall for putting her on the team and giving said team the hope of having her with them at all.

And then there was the story with the dragon, something he'd thought was Draco's overactive imagination but turned out to be true and was fully Hagrid's fault. Then, swiftly after that was the Forbidden Forest incident.

He blamed Dumbledore for that as well. Sending four first years into a forest that was, by the very definition of its name, forbidden? Pure idiocy. And he decided not to dwell on the entire Philosopher's Stone situation because it was liable to give him an aneurysm.

He still tried to hate the girl though. That summer, while the students were all off doing nothing of note in their homes, Severus continued trying to tell himself all of the reasons he could hate her. But he couldn't.

Then she came back for her second year, looking smaller than ever, and he was furious with her and Weasley for what they'd done with the car and confused that Potter didn't seem to care at all for the danger she had put herself in.

"You could have died! Both of you!"

Weasley paled, looking like he would be ill just by hearing the words, but Potter didn't even flinch. It didn't seem like she was fazed at all. Why did the possibility of her dying not bother her?

Severus thought she and Lockhart would get along merrily, but he quickly realized that she hated the new defence professor almost as much as he did and did whatever she could to avoid him. And the lengths she went to do that avoiding were a lot more amusing than he'd expected them to be…

It was nearly time for dinner, and Severus was on his way to the Great Hall. Making his way down the corridor, he turned the corner and nearly walked right into her. "Potter." She'd been heading in the opposite direction, away from the Great Hall. Was she not going to dinner?

Potter stopped short. "Professor Snape!"

"Violet! Where did you go?"

The girl's eyes widened and before Severus could even think to ask her why Lockhart was looking for her, she backed up against the wall, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him in front of her. Once he was, she tugged at his arm until he turned around, and gripped the robes at his back. And then Lockhart arrived, all perfect hair and irritatingly glimmering teeth.

"Ah, Severus! Have you seen young Violet anywhere?" he asked with a charming smile. "I wanted to discuss my-"

"I have not," Severus interrupted, and to his relief, Lockhart didn't linger, hurrying away down the corridor to continue his search for Potter.

Potter sighed in obvious relief once Lockhart was out of sight, and released her grip on Severus' robes, moving out from behind them. And then she froze and shot him a look filled with apprehension.

"Oh, er-I, s-sorry about that, Professor. Talking to him is kind of, um…" She trailed off and looked away, fiddling with her sleeve.

She really didn't like Lockhart much, eh? Fortunately for her, he felt the same way. "Either get to the Great Hall or return to your common room, Potter. Don't linger in the corridor."

"Y-yes, sir."

"And a point from Gryffindor for manhandling your professor."

She flushed. "S-sorry, sir."

But things didn't get any better after that because soon there was the entire Chamber of Secrets incident that was best not to dwell on.

Despite his intensely skeptical nature, Severus never once thought Potter actually had anything to do with it-more specifically, that she was Slytherin's Heir. Her being a Potter was the biggest reason, but it was also because he was a firsthand witness to her shock, fear, and anger when Granger was attacked. How could he believe she'd set Slytherin's monster on Granger when she looked like she was seconds away from either crying or fainting?

He saw her the moment she entered the hospital wing with McGonagall. She looked flushed and was still in her Quidditch uniform, but there was concern and confusion both painted across her face. She hadn't been told why she was being brought here, then.

Unsure why he was watching her, Severus moved away from the bed, allowing Potter to see who was occupying it, and he saw her pale instantly. She made a sound, something akin to a choked sob. Slowly, she stepped closer to the bed, eyes locked on Granger's body.

"Wh-what-what happened to her?" asked Potter hoarsely, reaching out cautiously to touch Granger's cold, pale hand.

"She has been attacked and petrified like the others, Potter," said Severus when McGonagall didn't answer. "She and Clearwater were found with this." He showed her a small compact mirror. "Does it mean anything to you?"

Potter frowned and shook her head. "No, sir." She looked at Granger again, but with no new information she could give, McGonagall seemed to decide it was better to take Potter back to her common room.

Severus watched them go, and once the wing's doors had shut behind them, looked at the small mirror in his hand, frowning. What significance did it have? Was it just a coincidence? Had Clearwater simply been checking on her make-up when the attack occurred? But why outside of the library of all places? He didn't understand.

Potter wasn't handling Granger's attack well, which was no doubt the reason why she utterly failed to brew her next potion in class correctly. She failed so badly, in fact, that Severus had no choice but to assign her detention. McGonagall would surely scold him for it, but he couldn't be lenient. Not now. Not when he'd spent the last two years being so strict with the girl.

But that detention ended up creating an entirely new problem that he had absolutely no idea how to handle.

Potter was quiet when she entered the dungeon classroom. Quiet and pale, just as she'd been most days since Granger's attack. She didn't make any sort of fuss when he instructed her to clean the stack of cauldrons he'd left by the sink and simply got to work. Severus wasn't surprised though.

He'd long since noticed that Potter rarely argued with her professors. She wouldn't be pleased-that much would be obvious with the mutiny in her eyes and the way her jaw set, but she would never argue either. He wondered why. She wasn't like that with her peers.

Since Potter seemed to be working diligently, Severus decided to busy himself by grading abysmal attempts at essays, though he glanced at her occasionally to make sure she continued her task.

He'd thought of having her re-brew the potion she'd failed at, but had swiftly decided that having her clean cauldrons would be much safer, considering her current state of mind. And it seemed to him that he had made the right choice.

Eventually, some thirty minutes and a stupidity-induced headache later, Severus looked up from his slowly dwindling stack of essays and noticed that Potter was rinsing off the final cauldron. He was actually a little impressed. It typically took over an hour for that many cauldrons to be washed by hand. And it was while he was contemplating this that he saw it.

Potter had a soulmark.

It was a small mark and difficult to make out from where he was sitting, but he knew he wasn't mistaken. He didn't even think much of it until she stepped a little closer to his desk, reaching out to pick up the robes she'd removed earlier. Then he saw it properly. It was a flower, a vi-

Severus' eyes widened and his breath caught in his chest, nearly choking him. No. No, this couldn't be possible. How could it be? Was he mistaken? Surely, he was. He had to be.

"Professor?"

Severus blinked and found the girl near him now, standing across his desk with small hands braced on the dark wood. Her expression showed concern. She was also close enough for him to get a good, long look at her soulmark.

A violet, in the centre of which was a small, indistinct shape that looked vaguely like a cauldron. He wasn't mistaken. It was the same.

"P-Professor?"

"Leave."

"A-are you alright?"

"Get out, Potter!"

She started, shot him a hesitant look, then obeyed and fled the room. The moment the door fell shut behind her, Severus crumpled in his chair, a hollow, humourless laugh escaping him.

What had he done to deserve this? What had he done to deserve such a girl as a soulmate? No, what had she done to deserve a soulmate as bitter and cold as him No, he'd been right from the very beginning. This soulmate thing was entirely idiotic.

Severus didn't tell Potter what he knew. There was no reason to upset and burden her with the knowledge. One didn't have to be with their soulmate to live a full and content life. Potter would be better off not knowing who hers was.

Perhaps that was selfish of him. Selfish not to tell her the truth. After all, it should be her own decision to choose whether she wanted a proper relationship with her soulmate or not. Severus knew that, but he just couldn't do it.

He couldn't believe she could possibly want to have anything to do with him. He wasn't sure he even wanted her to accept the situation.

She was young yet anyway. Too young. Maybe his mind would change once she was older. Maybe by then, it wouldn't matter anymore. Maybe by then, she would find someone else for her. Someone who wasn't him. That would be perfectly fine, he decided.

It would.

Yet, the revelation of Potter being his soulmate only made things worse, because now every time she did something dangerous, it had his heart pounding, his anxiety rising, and Salazar, the panic and fear that filled him was surreal. And since this was Potter, he was talking about, it was far too bloody often.

She was going to be the death of him.

Things were not going particularly well in the castle. Ginny Weasley had been kidnapped by Slytherin's monster or Slytherin's heir and had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets, and no one knew what to do.

It didn't take Severus long to realize the staff was already mourning her death. Her parents, who had been notified instantly, had arrived at the castle and were no different. But what was this going to accomplish?

Severus understood why they were all upset. Frankly, he was rather upset as well. Ginny Weasley was a first year. She was just a child. There was no reason for her to be involved in something like this, and he was certainly curious to know why she was the one who'd been taken.

All of the victims, save for the ghost, had been Muggleborns, but Weasley was a Pureblood. Was it because the Weasleys were known as blood traitors?

Regardless of the reason for her kidnapping, Severus knew no one was going to be able to find her if all they did was sit on their hands and cry. But there was nothing he could do either. It wasn't as if he knew where the Chamber of Secrets was. There was a part of him that still wasn't entirely sure it even existed. There was no real proof that it did.

So, he sat in the staff room, waiting and wondering. What was going to happen to Weasley? Was she truly already dead? Would she ever be found? How was Dumbledore going to get out of this mess once the board found out about this? He stared out of the darkened window unseeingly, thinking.

And then he felt the pain.

A sharp pain shot through his arm, and Severus bit back a gasp, his right hand closing around his left wrist. The pain was far too low to belong to the Dark Mark which, of course, left only one other possibility. His soulmark.

Potter.

Potter was in mortal peril. There was no other reason for his soulmark to be hurting in this way. Or was she already dead? Severus attempted to relax, unwillingly to draw attention to himself.

Not wanting to look at his soulmark with so many others in the room, he instead slipped the fingers of his right hand up under his left sleeve and to the inside of his wrist. The mark was still there, slightly raised against his skin.

Severus released a slow breath. Potter was still alive, then. The mark would have disappeared if she was dead. He was sure, even without having to dwell on it, that Potter was currently involved in something that had to do with Ginny Weasley or the Chamber of Secrets, but what sort of danger was she in if the mark was causing him this much pain...?

"A basilisk!?"

"Yes, I was quite surprised myself," said Dumbledore conversationally, "but I suppose I should have considered it. The king of serpents is a very fitting 'monster' for Salazar Slytherin to have had. We were fortunate Violet was able to not only defeat the basilisk, but ensure young Ginny's safety as well."

Potter shouldn't have had to do that at all, was what Severus wanted to say, though he stopped himself before he did. But at least he now knew why his soulmark had caused him so much pain earlier.

That pain had long since diminished, stopping almost as suddenly as it had begun. Everyone involved in the Chamber of Secrets incident, including all of the Muggleborns, was alive and well.

Except for Lockhart's memory, of course, but there was nothing of value lost there.

Though frustrated with Dumbledore's unconcerned attitude, Severus was more than a little relieved when the summer holidays rolled around. At least the girl would keep herself safe now, right…?

Chapter Text

"Potter did what!?"

"Blew up her aunt. ...Well, inflated, actually. And it wasn't her blood aunt either, I suppose. Let me clarify." Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Violet's uncle's sister came to visit, and it seems there was a bit of an...argument, which, unfortunately, led to Violet losing her temper and accidentally inflating her aunt."

Severus sighed. "That brat."

"And then she ran away from home."

"...What?"

"She was able to call the Knight Bus, fortunately, and after an encounter with Cornelius, is now safe and sound in a room at the Leaky Cauldron. She'll be remaining there for the last two weeks of the holiday."

With no idea what to say, and wondering why Dumbledore was even bothering to tell him any of this in the first place, Severus lowered himself down into a chair with an inward groan. Not even during the holidays could Potter be normal!? What on earth was that girl thinking!?

Absently, he rubbed the soulmark that was hidden beneath his sleeve and then noticed he was being watched. "What?" he questioned with a scowl.

"Is your Dark Mark bothering you again?"

Severus very nearly rolled his eyes. "Yes, because I wear the Dark Mark on my wrist. No, that mark is just fine."

"Ah, then it's your soulmark that's giving you pain?"

Why was he being asked all of these inane questions? "You know as well as I do that soulmarks cause no pain unless one's soulmate is near death or actively dying. My own is mark is painless."

"Hmm, is that so?" Dumbledore folded his arms on his desk and fixed Severus with a rather stern look from over his half-moon spectacles. "When will you tell us who your soulmate is?"

"When it becomes your business." Which, of course, was to say never. But the old man never really paid any attention to that anyway. Everyone's business was his business, really, except for when it wasn't convenient. At least, that was what it always seemed like.

And then Severus ignored the long, dramatic, and drawn-out sigh that left Dumbledore. He was getting better at ignoring the emotional blackmail each day. It was a relief but never truly made the situation any easier.

And as he left the Headmaster's office, Severus wondered if he ought to drop by Diagon Alley. Not to make sure Potter was doing alright on her own, of course. No, nothing like that. He just had some errands to run, that was all…

He found Potter sitting at a table outside Fortescue's with a rather large bowl of ice cream in front of her. He frowned. That was far too much sugar for one sitting.

Potter didn't seem at all bothered or concerned, over-indulging as she scribbled away on some parchment. Was she pleased to have so much time alone with no adults telling her what to do? And then Fortescue came out and asked her if she wanted more ice cream.

Much to Severus' surprise, Potter refused and pulled out her coin pouch, only for Fortescue to tell her the ice cream was free for her. Severus thought she would go along with it and thank him, but she didn't. Instead, she insisted on paying for at least half of the ice cream and after some protest, Fortescue accepted the coins reluctantly before returning inside his shop.

"Professor!"

Severus blinked. Ah. He'd been spotted. He hadn't planned on standing there for so long. "Miss Potter," he said in greeting as he approached the table. "What are you doing here?"

"Homework," said Potter. She shot him a cautious look. "I already finished your essay, I swear!"

Homework? Severus wasn't sure why he didn't want to believe her, but a single glance at the table's surface told him she was speaking the truth. The transfiguration and charms textbooks made that much clear.

She was free without any sort of supervision for two weeks and she was spending that free time doing her homework of all things? He certainly couldn't see Weasley doing anything of the sort. In fact, he'd only thought Granger would do something like that. For that matter, why hadn't she just done her homework earlier in the break? Why wait until the last two weeks?

...Then again, he supposed he was one of the odd ones to have always completed his holiday homework immediately. Still, this wasn't something he had expected from Potter.

Severus was more than a little displeased when he found out Lupin was going to be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts during the upcoming school year. And displeased was an understatement as well.

First Black escaped from Azkaban and now Lupin was returning to Hogwarts? Severus knew there was a chance it was simply a coincidence, but if it was, it was one with impeccable timing. There was something wrong with this entire situation. He was sure of it.

Dumbledore, of course, dismissed his suspicions, but Severus hadn't expected otherwise. The Headmaster had always made excuses for the Marauders, and it seemed like that hadn't changed at all, even when one of them was a convicted killer, though Severus wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that either.

But Severus' concern quickly and frustratingly, returned to Potter when he found out about the dementor attack that took place on the Hogwarts Express.

The dementor had been searching for Black but had, for some reason or another, decided it would be a grand idea to attack Potter. Because of course it would be her. Potter was practically a magnet for danger.

For what was surely the first time, Severus had to admit he was glad Lupin was around, because he'd been the one to get rid of the dementor and ensure Potter's safety, and he had the right knowledge to be sure of it as well.

Even then, Severus kept his eye on Potter as she sat at Gryffindor Table with her friends not too long later. She was too pale, he noticed immediately, even despite the chocolate he'd been told she had been given.

The smile she was currently wearing was fake as well. He didn't know how he knew that-he just did. Only thirteen, and she had already suffered an encounter with a dementor? That was something that never should have happened.

Severus decided to blame it on Black.

A few days later, Severus was in the staff room during one of his free periods when Lupin walked in with a line of children trailing behind him. A single glance showed him that it was the third year Gryffindors.

Oh joy.

Lupin, Longbottom, Weasley, Granger, and Finnegan, all in the same room? They would be lucky if the place was still intact by the end of it. He knew it would be best for him to leave, but...Potter was here too.

No, no, he couldn't stay. He didn't know what Lupin had planned, but he didn't care to find out, Potter's presence be damned. So, he taunted Lupin, just to keep in character, unwilling to draw any suspicion to his conflicted emotions, and left the room as swiftly as he could.

But it didn't take him long to find out what Lupin had done.

By dinner, nearly everyone in the castle had heard about what happened in the staff room, though Severus knew the rest of them were focusing on a very different aspect of the situation than he was.

"-and Violet's boggart...it became a dementor," said Lupin, who was recounting the events of his lesson to Dumbledore.

Surprise crossed Dumbledore's face. "A dementor, you say? That is...unexpected. I thought it would become Voldemort. She has ample reason to fear him, after all."

"I thought that too," Lupin admitted, "which was why I intervened. I didn't think it would be a good idea for Voldemort to appear in the middle of the staff room."

Though he remained silent, Severus could only agree with both statements. He'd also thought Potter's boggart would become the Dark Lord. Why wouldn't it? And while there was a part of him that was glad her greatest fear wasn't the Dark Lord, the fact that it was a dementor was disturbing in its own right. In some ways, he would have preferred it to be the Dark Lord.

"So, Violet's greatest fear is fear itself," said Dumbledore. He nodded and smiled, looking impressed. "She's quite wise for her age. That is a very mature fear to have," he all but gushed to a suddenly mostly unresponsive Lupin, and Severus grit his teeth as he was forced to listen to the entire thing.

He cut dinner short that night. Lupin did as well.

"Hey, Violet, did you hear about Black?"

Since when was Finnegan interested in gossip? Despite being at the other end of the room, Severus heard every word being said by the students. He didn't give a damn if they spoke during class so long as they paid attention to their potions, but it was Black that Finnegan was talking about. That was something Severus couldn't help but listen to.

He was telling Potter and Weasley about how a Muggle woman had seen Black nearby, though he'd vanished before the Ministry managed to arrive, and when Potter and Weasley exchanged a glance, he had to wonder what it meant.

Fortunately, the girl didn't seem too disturbed...until Draco began taunting her about him. Suddenly, Potter's calm became concerning. Potter didn't take well to being taunted. She and Weasley traded another look, this one filled with confusion.

"I don't know why you're bothering to tell me this, Malfoy. Why in the world would I want to go after him?" And though Potter returned her attention to her cauldron, Severus watched her curiously.

Did she not know?

Had no one told the girl who Black was? Did she not know he was after her? Did she not know who he was? Why had no one said anything? Did she not deserve to know? He hadn't thought to ask Dumbledore about how much Potter knew, but by the sounds of it, it wasn't much.

And like so many other things, Severus also began questioning the sense, or lack thereof, in that decision.

But much to his dismay, things only got worse from there. Black's attack, the dementors, Potter falling off her broom from so high up. Again and again, she gave him a heart attack, and by the end of the year, he thought nothing more could possibly happen. But then it did.

Black, Lupin, Lupin as a werewolf, Potter still running off on her own, Potter nearly losing her soul, Black still managing to get away. Severus was desperate for the school term to finish, just so he could have some peace…

Chapter Text

To Severus' relief, he heard nothing untoward about Potter that summer and his soulmark remained as it always was. However, a completely different mark of his was beginning to bother him.

His Dark Mark was acting up, sending sudden, sharp twinges of pain through his arm. He wasn't sure if he was surprised by it or not. He told Dumbledore about it, of course, only because it was expected of him, but at the same time, he wasn't sure how he felt about the entire thing.

The Dark Lord was a strange man. Severus, like many others, hadn't had any problems following him. It was the Dark Lord finding out about the prophecy that had changed everything for the worse.

While he'd never fully agreed with his Lord's ideals, he'd never fully disagreed either, and the Dark Lord had mostly honoured that. But Severus knew he could never trust the Dark Lord again. Not after Lily. And it was his own fault, he knew.

He was the one who had told his lord about the prophecy in the first place. If he hadn't, perhaps Lily wouldn't be dead right now. Perhaps Potter wouldn't be dead either.

Why would the girl ever want him as a soulmate when he was the reason she had been left an orphan?

"Violet will be spending the remainder of her summer break with the Weasleys," Dumbledore informed him from the floo. "They plan on attending the Quidditch World Cup." He sighed regretfully. "Ah, if only I had the time to do the same. I'm quite fond of Ireland's team myself, you see. I do hope they manage to win."

Severus, his knees already numb from kneeling on the cold and hard floor, released a sound of non-committal but didn't answer beyond that, wondering why Dumbledore thought he cared about what the girl was doing at all. This wasn't the first time he'd done something like this either, Severus realized.

Dumbledore was always telling him random things regarding Potter. Did he suspect they were soulmates? Or was it simply because she was Potter? He wasn't sure which was more likely, or even which one he preferred it to be.

"All of the Weasleys should be there," Dumbledore continued cheerfully, "save for Molly, and I believe Miss Granger is going as well."

Well, that made Severus feel a little better about this. Arthur was a bit of a pushover, and Percy was worse than Granger, but his two eldest sons, though one was a bit more reckless than the other, had always been mostly responsible, the oldest one especially. So long as Potter remained with Bill or Charlie, Severus was sure she would remain safe…

No wonder he found himself incapable of being optimistic. It never went well.

The last thing Severus had expected to take place at the Quidditch World Cup of all places was a Death Eater raid. And yet, that was exactly what happened. And beyond that, the Dark Mark had been cast up in the sky. It'd been a very long time since anyone had last seen it.

But he hardly had the time to think about it. Dumbledore contacted him early that morning and asked for him to go to the Burrow to heal Bill Weasley, who'd been hit with a nasty dark spell the night before. He was told no one but Severus would be able to heal it, and he already knew why.

It was his spell-one of the many he had invented himself. Few knew the counters to his spells. No Weasley would, that much was for certain. Dumbledore didn't know the counters either.

Severus didn't argue though and made his way to the Burrow immediately. He simply wanted to get it over with, he told himself. It had nothing to do with wanting to make sure Potter hadn't been injured as well…

When he entered the house it was Molly who greeted him. She was pale and wringing a dishtowel between her hands, but she smiled at him gratefully and thanked him for coming. She chattered away about what she'd been told regarding the raid as she led him through the house, but Severus only listened with half an ear.

He spotted Bill the moment he stepped into the kitchen. He was seated at the table, leaning back in his chair, his eyes shut as he breathed long and slow. His shirt was off, due to the wound on his chest, and he was pale, clearly having lost a fair amount of blood. But he wasn't alone.

Potter was with him, looking just as pale, but her green eyes were clear and focused as she held a bloodied towel to Bill's wound, keeping pressure on it. Her hands, her shirt-she was covered in blood, and yet she didn't appear at all fazed by the sight. That was strange, very strange.

But now wasn't the moment to dwell on that thought. Severus grabbed a chair and sat down by the two, pulling out his wand as he did so. "Remove the towel, Potter. Slowly."

She nodded and did so, carefully releasing the pressure and raising her hand, along with the towel, away from the wound on Bill's chest (the motions appeared to be strangely well practiced). It was still bleeding.

Severus got to work immediately, waving his wand over the deep gash and murmuring a spell under his breath. The wound healed almost immediately, and he handed Bill a potion, which was downed without complaint. Severus lowered his wand and it was only now that he paid attention to Potter again.

She hadn't gone far. She'd remained exactly where she was. She'd set the stained towel on the table, and instead of getting up, had taken Bill's hand in her own, though her own hands were positively tiny in comparison. Even as he watched, Bill's thumb gently passed over Potter's knuckles. It was an absent gesture, one he doubted Bill had even realized he had done, but-

Severus looked away, jaw clenching. "That will scar," he said instead.

Bill nodded with a grimace. "I thought it might." Then he shrugged lightly and straightened. "That's alright. Thanks for the help, Professor. I appreciate it."

With an incline of his head, Severus got to his feet and replaced the chair, and he was following Molly out of the room when he heard Potter and Bill speak.

"Are you sure you're alright, Bill?" asked Potter. She sounded concerned.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me, Violet."

"But you lost so much blood!"

"That's what the potion was for," said Bill, clearly trying to be reassuring. "It was a blood-replenishing potion. Takes a minute to kick in though. I'll be fine, I promise. But you look like you could really use some sleep. And a bath."

"I could say the same about you," Potter retorted, and Bill laughed.

Severus heard every word of the exchange on his way out and had no idea how to feel about it.

Chapter Text

With the Triwizard tournament taking place that year, Severus had expected things to be peaceful on the Potter front. But of course, hoping Potter wouldn't get involved in something dangerous was like hoping for a self-brewing potion. It was an impossibility beyond impossibility.

"The champion of Durmstrang, Viktor Krum!"

The Great Hall erupted into cheers, the students losing their collective minds once the famous Quidditch player's name was announced. Severus knew little about Krum other than that he had a Quidditch career, but he had to admit, he hadn't realized how young the boy was.

"The champion of Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacour!"

The applause for Delacour was far more muted than it had been for Krum a moment ago, but the response was still overwhelmingly positive, with only a few students from her own school displaying any sort of dismay.

"The champion of Hogwarts, Cedric Diggory!"

The castle exploded into surprisingly loud cheers that almost rivalled their response to Krum. Severus watched as Diggory followed Krum and Delacour into the side room and frowned. Diggory, eh?

Severus didn't have any strong opinions regarding Diggory. Quidditch seemed to be his biggest priority, though he wasn't a poor student either, and while he didn't excel at potions, neither was he abysmal at the subject.

He was popular but never seemed to let said popularity go to his head, and Severus had only ever seen him being kind to those around him. Ever the Hufflepuff, really. There were certainly worse candidates for Hogwarts' champion.

And perhaps it was better that Hogwarts' champion was a Hufflepuff. A Ravenclaw would have been fine as well. Anyone other than a Gryffindor or Slytherin would have been acceptable. The rivalry between the latter two Houses was bad enough as it was. He didn't want to imagine how much worse it would be with a tournament like this on the line.

But then the Goblet of Fire burned red and a fourth scrap of parchment flew into the air. Dumbledore caught it immediately, perhaps out of instinct, and then the inevitable happened.

"...Violet Potter."

Silence descended in the Great Hall, as thick as a winter cloak, and Severus froze, eyes, like everyone else in the room, immediately going to Potter. She stared at Dumbledore, eyes wide and face pale.

"Violet Potter!" Dumbledore called louder.

Weasley sank into his seat, but Granger nudged Potter until she stood and slowly made her way up to the Headmaster. Severus could see her trembling from where he sat. What Dumbledore said to the girl, Severus didn't hear, but he watched as she disappeared into the same room the other three had gone into.

Chaos broke out in the Great Hall the second the door shut behind her. Karkaroff and Maxime descended upon Dumbledore, demanding to know why there were two Hogwarts champions, and McGonagall wasn't far behind. Neither was Moody, for that matter. The students, meanwhile, were all talking loudly, some confused, some angry. Granger looked worried, but the expression on Weasley's face didn't inspire much confidence.

Severus couldn't help but feel rather concerned himself, and that concern only worsened when he followed Dumbledore and the others into the room the four students were in.

"Violet! Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire?" Dumbledore questioned. He was trying to be calm, but there was a panicked glint in his eyes.

"I didn't!" Potter exclaimed. "You put an age line around it anyway, sir! There's no way I could've gotten past it! I saw what happened to Fred and George when they tried!"

"What about an older student?" asked Dumbledore. "Did you ask an older student to enter your name for you?"

"No! Why would I do that!?"

Severus didn't say anything, but he believed her. Potter was a magnet for danger, that much was true, but this seemed beyond anything that had happened before. She was being forced to compete as well. Forced, because there was no way out of the tournament once the Goblet chose a name.

...Maybe it would be best for him to brew an extra-large batch of blood pressure-reducing potions. He had a feeling he was going to need them.

Potter and Weasley were fighting, and Granger was caught in the middle of it. Weasley was jealous of Potter, jealous that she was in the tournament when she already had so much fame. Weasley was very vocal in his disbelief at Potter's claims of not entering herself in the tournament.

Severus wanted to strangle him.

He was supposed to be her friend. Weasley should have been the first to believe Potter, to trust that she was telling the truth, to be appalled and upset that she had to compete in such a dangerous tournament against students three years older than her. He should have been the first to fear for Potter's life because it was clear that someone out there was trying to kill her.

But instead, he was jealous. He was jealous because he wanted to be in her place.

"Violet."

"It's alright, Hermione."

Severus was walking around his dungeon classroom slowly, supervising the fourth-year Slytherins and Gryffindors as they worked. He had assigned them a fairly simple potion, but even the most basic potions had a chance to end in disaster with some of the students in the room.

He'd paused to keep a closer eye on Finnegan when he heard Potter and Granger speaking quietly at the workbench just behind Thomas and Finnegan.

"But-"

"I'm not mad at him," said Potter. "I mean, it's pissing me off, sure, but I get why he's doing it." She glanced at Granger. "There's a reason the Mirror of Erised showed him standing alone as the Head Boy and Captain of Gryffindor's Quidditch team. You said it yourself, he gets jealous. He gets jealous of me, you, his brothers, and Ginny too. He probably feels like he has to compete for attention and stuff."

"Oh," said Granger quietly. "I didn't consider that. I guess it makes sense, considering how many siblings he has. ...That doesn't mean he isn't being an absolute berk, though."

Potter snickered. "I can't believe you just said that."

They fell silent after that, turning their attention back to the potion bubbling in the cauldron in front of them. Severus was a little surprised at the insight they'd shown.

Weasley had grown up in the shadows of his older brothers, who were all talented in their own ways, and his younger sister, the daughter their parents had always wanted. Then he'd come to Hogwarts only to have ended up in the shadow of his best friend who had a sort of fame he could never have.

But even then, Severus found it idiotic, and it didn't help that he could see how upset Potter was.

Every time Weasley ignored her, every time he said something crass about her, it hurt the girl. If her parents had been in her shoes, Weasley would have already been harshly pranked or hexed, but Potter? She had the same stubborn pride her parents had possessed, but she did and said nothing to hurt Weasley in return.

Instead, she focused on her lessons, chatted with Granger and Longbottom, and attempted to train for the first task, despite not knowing what that task was.

Severus had to commend her for that. For doing what she could, for trying to make things work. Her life was at risk, but instead of sitting around moping and complaining, she was working hard, trying to ensure her survival.

But it wasn't enough. It really wasn't.

Severus sat, quite literally, on the edge of his seat during the first task at the end of November. Stealing a fake eff from a dragon-a nesting mother of all things? This first task itself was dangerous enough. What would the other two be if they were starting with dragons?

The first three to compete were the older students, and Severus thought they did well enough. He saw obvious flaws in their plans but considering their ages and level of education, those plans were decent and for the most part, worked well enough. None of them succeeded in earning perfect scores though, but Severus hadn't expected otherwise.

The last to compete was Potter.

Severus watched her intently when she entered the stadium, unaware of the way his heart was hammering in his chest. She was already small for her age but she looked positively tiny standing across from the dragon.

Tiny and terrified.

This was idiotic! How could anyone in their right mind believe this child had purposely entered herself into this damned tournament? Why were there no rules against allowing someone so young to compete, even despite the supposed change of rules?

What was Potter going to do? He had just watched three seventh years struggle to capture their own egg with the spells and skills they had learned in their lessons. Potter was only a fourth year. She'd barely learned half of what the other three had. What could she do with what she had learned so far? Low-level spells were useless against dragons.

"Accio Firebolt!"

Severus frowned. She was going to fly? That was rather unexpected and yet, at the same time, completely expected. This meant she knew using spells against the dragon itself would never work. If she could do nothing to the dragon, the smartest thing to do was something she was familiar and comfortable with. Flying certainly fulfilled those criteria.

Potter's skills on a broom, whether they came from her blood or not, were natural to her, and she had only become more talented over the past three years of being a part of her House Quidditch team-something he'd never thought he would be grateful for.

Would flying be enough though? Dragons could fly as well, after all, and despite being chained, there was still enough leeway for the creature to fly a few feet, at least. Was Potter planning to draw the dragon away from her eggs and quickly rush forward on her broom to grab the golden one?

Would that be good enough? Simple was good, but perhaps it was too simple. Would it even work at all? Severus had his doubts.

So, ignoring the boos and jeers, he watched as Potter's broom came flying into the stadium, watched as she caught and mounted it quickly, and watched, curiosity growing when he realized that she hadn't put her wand away yet. Was he wrong about her plan? Did she have something else in mind?

"Expecto Patronum!"

...Oh. Severus blinked, caught off guard. The large, bright stag burst out of the end of Potter's wand and bounded around the stadium, catching the dragon's eye almost instantly. The dragon watched the stag, then roared and breathed fire at it, only to stomp in anger when the glowing stag only emerged from the flames unscathed.

And now the dragon moved. Roaring again, she tried to go after the stag, this time moving away from her nest to do so. Potter didn't waste time. She shot forward, flew at the nest, grabbed the golden egg, and flew away from the nest. The glowing stag disappeared and with a roar of triumph, the dragon returned to her nest, oblivious of the theft.

Potter landed a safe distance away, shouldered her broom, cradled the egg closely, and then walked away, not even bothering to look at her scores, which were currently being displayed.

Severus smirked, quite pleased with that. The girl couldn't get out of the tournament, but as long as she did the bare minimum, regardless of how well she scored, it fulfilled the magical contract that was binding her into competing. And in Severus' opinion, odd though it was, he had to admit that Potter had handled this task the best.

Diggory had transfigured a boulder into a dog and had used that dog to distract the dragon, but he hadn't been fast enough to escape the flames the dragon had sent at the dog and had gotten burned, losing him points.

Delacour had attempted to put the dragon to sleep, but hadn't been magically powerful enough for it and had only sent the creature into a bit of a trance. The dragon had been just alert enough to send fire at Delacour when she'd approached, setting her robes on fire which she had then been forced to extinguish, losing her points.

Krum had targeted the dragon's weak spot-the eyes, hitting the conjunctivitis curse which, in most cases would have been smart. But the dragon must have been in a great amount of pain and had fallen into spasms, crushing half of her very real and very rare eggs, losing him points.

Like Diggory, Potter had chosen to avoid casting any spells on the dragon itself and had decided to go for a distraction instead. Unlike Diggory, Potter hadn't yet learned how to transfigure anything into an animal large enough for the dragon to see, let alone be distracted by. So, she'd opted for the Patronus charm instead, the stag not only large but bright as well. On top of that, Potter had considered something none of the others had and had accounted for that using her broom.

Speed.

Yes, Severus believed Potter had done the best, but the scores didn't fully reflect that. According to the scores, Potter and Krum were tied for first, Diggory had come second, and Delacour third. Severus wasn't sure why Potter and Krum were tied. Krum should never have come in first-shouldn't have been considered coming in first either.

They weren't to harm the real eggs, and yet, Krum's actions had caused more than half of them to be destroyed. He should have come in fourth, not tied for first with someone who hadn't harmed the eggs and had used a more advanced spell.

Unable to sit there any longer, Severus left the stadium as well. He had potions to brew. He'd fallen behind in his schedule because he'd had to prepare multiple burn salves and he wanted to catch up before that schedule was ruined further.

He wasn't sure if he was surprised or not when he came across Potter on the way back to the castle. She was hunched over along the path, getting sick in some bushes.

He couldn't blame her for that and nor could he leave her be. Not only because they were, well, what they were, but also because as much as he loathed it, he was a professor and she was a student. He had an obligation to ensure she was alright, especially when he could very obviously see signs of distress.

"Potter," he called out as he approached her.

She started and then coughed, straightening up quickly and rubbing her sleeve across her mouth. "Sorry, sir," she said quickly.

Severus raised a brow, wondering why on earth the girl was apologizing for being sick, in some bushes no less. Strange. "Are you well, Potter?"

She nodded hurriedly. "I'm okay, sorry."

"Do you require a calming draught?" he asked. He had a feeling the nerves of having to deal with the dragon had finally gotten to her. She may have handled the task exceptionally well, but she was still just a fourth year.

But Potter shook her head. "No thank you, sir. I'm okay now." As if to prove it, she picked up the golden egg she had no doubt dropped.

Severus regarded her closely, but though she was pale, she returned his gaze steadily. "Very well. Allow me to escort you to the castle."

Potter blinked, green eyes wide behind her round glasses, but she nodded again, perhaps feeling as if she couldn't refuse. "Y-yes, sir." And with that, she followed after him in silence, heading straight up the Grand Staircase once they were in the Entrance Hall.

Severus watched her go and saw her pause just before turning the corner out of sight. She shot him a cautious glance from over her shoulder, and then resumed walking, vanishing around the bend of the staircase.

Alone now, Severus sighed softly and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd been too kind to her, hadn't he? Suspiciously so. The nerves of the first task had gotten to him as well, it seemed.

He headed for the dungeons. Severus didn't know what the second task was, and nor did he know what the golden egg had to do with it. All he knew was that the task would take place in February and that it was meant to be more dangerous than the first task. He couldn't say he was looking forward to it.

He rubbed the soulmark hidden under his sleeve.

Chapter Text

Dumbledore wasn't pleased that Potter hadn't bothered waiting for her scores to be shown to her after she'd completed the first task. He called attention to her the next morning during breakfast and announced her scores from the Head Table for everyone in the Great Hall.

Potter didn't look at Dumbledore or her scores, keeping her eyes on her plate of eggs and bacon. When Dumbledore read the scores out loud, she turned to Granger.

"Hey, Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Do we have any homework due soon? I kind of haven't started on any of it yet," Potter admitted sheepishly, not even glancing at the Head Table.

Severus hid a smirk behind his coffee mug. He had to admit it, grudgingly though it was, that Potter was beginning to grow on him.

Weasley had finally apologized to Potter, Severus learned a day later, and Potter had forgiven him. They were going on as if nothing had happened, and in fact, Potter, Weasley, and Granger all looked significantly closer.

Severus was glad, of course, but he couldn't help but think of Lily and how their friendship had never recovered after his mistake. He'd apologized so many times but Lily had never forgiven him. He didn't blame her. Would he have forgiven her if their roles had been reversed? He wasn't sure. He knew he held grudges.

But Weasley had been forgiven immediately. If Lily had been in Potter's place, would she have forgiven Weasley? If Potter's father had been in her place, would he have forgiven Weasley? Severus wasn't sure about that either. Lily had been very stubborn, and James Potter had been no better. Severus had thought the girl would be the same, but now he was thinking otherwise.

Regardless of his thoughts on the matter, seeing Potter, Weasley, and Granger together again made him...pleased. Relieved. He was relieved because Potter was happy again. And that was good.

Wasn't it?

His Dark Mark was still acting up. The Dark Lord was regaining power, slowly, but surely. Severus couldn't say how he felt about it, and he could say even less about how he was going to react when the Dark Lord finally did return.

"How long has the mark been paining you?"

Honour-bound, Severus had gone to Dumbledore to fill him in on what was happening. "Since summer," he said.

Dumbledore made a thoughtful sound. "And you believe this means Voldemort will return?"

"Yes. The mark has been painless since the Potters were attacked. There is no reason for it to be acting this way unless he was regaining his power. You and I both know he never died."

"I see. Well, I do suspect you're correct in your assumption," said Dumbledore, "but there isn't much we can do about it. If there is a way to prevent his return then we should, of course, do what we can, but at present, we know too little to take action. Have you heard anything from your former colleagues?"

Severus scowled. "No."

"Keep an ear open, then," said Dumbledore. "They may have heard more rumblings on the matter."

Severus left the round office, frustrated. This was why he was so hesitant to fully trust Dumbledore. Despite everything he'd told him, Dumbledore hadn't seemed particularly concerned about any of it.

The students, meanwhile, were unaware of what was happening behind the scenes. If any of them had any suspicions, which he doubted, they were keeping it to themselves. The only thing they were focused on right now was the Yule Ball.

The damned thing had been announced barely a week ago and Severus was already sick of the tittering girls and awkward boys. And Potter was...more on the awkward side rather than the tittering one, he noted with some amusement.

As one of the four Champions, Potter had to participate in the opening dance, much to her obvious chagrin. She still wasn't making any effort to pretend as if she had any interest in anything related to the tournament, but whether she was unwilling or not didn't matter. Potter had to find a date.

She had to find a boy.

Severus was almost disgusted by how much that bothered him. Soulmate or not, he had no right to feel this way. He had no claim over her, nor would he ever.

He saw numerous boys approach Potter, asking her to go to the ball with them, but she refused them all. Severus couldn't blame her. All of these male students had been very vocal in their disdain for her being in the tournament.

Most, if not all of them had been sporting Draco's childish badge, and while some of them had been smart enough to remove them when the ball was announced, more than half of them were still wearing their badges when they asked Potter to go with them.

Was it any wonder Potter had no interest in them? Frankly, he wouldn't have been entirely against her hexing most of them. He would have even pretended to be oblivious to it if he came across that scene.

He was a little surprised when he learned that Weasley hadn't asked Potter or Granger to the ball though. At least until he realized this was Weasley, who more than likely forgot his friends were even girls half of the time. He was sure the boy would remember that fact a little too late. He hadn't seemed to have inherited the tact and charm some of his older brothers had.

While he couldn't say anything about Granger, Severus had never seen Potter show much interest in boys. The only person he'd ever seen her have any sort of reaction towards was Bill Weasley, but she could hardly have him as her date. So, what was she going to do?

Would she go with one of the twin menaces, perhaps? What about Longbottom? He knew she was at least friendly with them, and all three of them had been supporting her from the moment her name had come out of the Goblet of Fire.

But Severus knew there was one boy who had his sights set on Potter.

Draco wanted to ask her to go with him as well. He was telling the other Slytherins that Potter would never manage to refuse his charm. He told them that Potter would obviously accept his generous offer and he would ensure she never forgot the night of the ball because he was going to embarrass her.

Severus didn't believe him. To him, Draco sounded too desperate for an attempt at mere humiliation. He began to wonder whether Draco had a crush on the girl. It would certainly explain his irritating and foolish methods of attempting to gain her attention when he picked on her. Because it was Draco who nearly always instigated interactions with Potter.

"Hey, Potter!"

Severus paused where he'd been about to round the corner. He knew Potter had been walking somewhere ahead of him because he'd seen her exit the library, but he hadn't expected to hear Draco's voice.

Potter's footsteps stopped and Severus heard her groan in aggravation. "I don't know what's gotten into you recently, Malfoy, but could you please stop following me around? If I wanted my own stalker, I'd go to Colin Creevey. Or Dobby."

"Yeah, whatever. Listen, Potter, I have a proposition for you," said Draco, and Severus could hear the grin in his voice.

"A proposition," Potter repeated slowly, not sounding particularly interested.

"That's right.

"...And? What is it?"

"Go to the Yule Ball with me, Potter." Draco's words were not phrased as a request.

"Wow, you're awfully bold today, aren't you? No thank you."

"...What? You can't say no!"

"I just did. And anyway, I have no idea why you even think I'd say yes after you spent the past, what?-three and a half years treating me like crap. You're literally wearing a badge that says I stink. So, I'm flattered by your offer, but no thank you. If you're that desperate for a date, you should just ask Parkinson. She's been waiting for you."

Potter's footsteps resumed as she continued down the corridor, leaving Draco spluttering in shock behind her. Severus made sure Draco made no attempt for a cheap shot at Potter's back-something he couldn't put past him, and then turned on his heel and headed back the way he'd come.

It wasn't surprising that Potter had refused. If Draco had bothered to apologize to her for his past behaviour and asked Potter to the ball in an effort to begin anew, she may well have accepted, even if she knew he was lying. But Draco hadn't bothered, and so Potter had refused him, which meant that she still had no date.

Was she planning on getting out of having to attend the ball somehow? Or was she going to show up with no date and refuse to take part in the opening dance? Or did she already have a date that he didn't know about? It was hard to tell with Potter.

Chapter Text

Christmas break was no holiday for Severus. A frustrating number of students had remained behind at the castle thanks to the damned Yule Ball and, as Severus had expected, he was quickly roped into helping prepare for the event.

The dreaded day was even worse, especially when Dumbledore made it clear he had no choice but to attend the ball as well. Refusing wasn't going to get him anywhere, so attend he did, bitterly though it was.

At his seat at the Head Table with the other professors, Headmasters, Headmistress, and whoever else Severus paid no attention to, he sipped at his firewhiskey slowly, watching the students file into the Great Hall and take their seats at the many round tables.

It was once all of them were seated that the large, wooden doors opened once again, this time to admit the four Triwizard Champions and their respective dates for the night. The whispers started almost instantly.

Diggory came in first, Chang on his arm. That didn't surprise Severus. He'd been witness to his asking and her accepting, as Diggory hadn't bothered doing it in private, instead asking Chang in the middle of the corridor in between lessons.

Delacour came in next with Davies. Seeing that the boy could barely keep his eyes off his date even as they walked, left Severus feeling more than a little unimpressed. Delacour was beautiful, certainly, but Davies could at least do her the courtesy of watching where he was going.

Krum was next, and on his arm was...Granger? A vastly different-looking Granger, at that. Severus hadn't thought to see those two together, but it was hardly the worst coupling, admittedly. They didn't even look particularly terrible together, and Granger was all but beaming.

And now, Potter came in, arm in arm with-with Weasley!? No, not Ron Weasley. Not Fred or George either. And certainly not the three older brothers who had all graduated. It was the Weasley girl-Ginny, that Potter was with.

…What?

Potter's chosen date brought forth scandalized whispers almost instantly, though neither of the two girls seemed to care. They took part in the opening dance with the other three couples and then moved to the Head Table, where the Champions and their dates were to sit with the rest of the staff.

Potter, by some strange chance, ended up seated beside Severus, which was a far cry better than Karkaroff, who was on his other side. Potter greeted him politely, Weasley following a bit more stiffly, but they soon began to eat.

For Severus, the meal, though delicious, was uneventful. He kept to himself because he was in no mood to deal with Karkaroff tonight, and told himself he was above listening to what Potter and Weasley were talking about.

All four Champions appeared entirely occupied with their dates.

Diggory and Chang seemed to be discussing Quidditch, an odd topic, Severus thought, for such a night, but he could hardly judge. Delacour was speaking, but Davies barely seemed to be paying attention, all of his focus apparently on Delacour's face. Annoying, to say the least. Krum was attempting to learn how to pronounce Granger's given name, a real task, it appeared. And Potter...she and the Weasley girl were chatting about the impact they had made upon entering the Great Hall. He couldn't blame them for that.

Weasley herself wouldn't even have been able to attend (as she was merely a third year), but why had Potter wanted her to be her date? While Potter hadn't shown much interest in boys, she had shown even less interest in being interested in girls in a manner beyond friendship. So why Weasley?

He got his answer not long after. Once dinner was finished, the round tables were moved away from the centre of the hall's floor and many of the students hurried forward and began to dance to the music being played by...whoever that group was. Diggory, Delacour, and Krum were no different, taking their dates along with them. Potter, on the other hand, did not follow suit.

Leaning into Weasley, Potter said something to her quietly and Weasley grinned in response, nodded, and then hurried off where she quickly joined her own year friends who must have been invited by older students.

Potter watched her go, smiling when she saw Granger clearly enjoying herself, frowning when she saw Ron Weasley definitely NOT enjoying himself. Then she yawned, stretched in her seat, and stood, inching towards the doors rather cautiously, as if trying to make sure no one saw her leave.

Having no inclination to remain in here for much longer, Severus gave her a few minutes before he too left the Hall, heading to the magically created rose gardens. There were already dozens of teenagers snogging in the bushes, but he paid them no mind, in a decent enough mood to leave them be for the time being.

And then Karkaroff found him. Severus' decent mood deteriorated quickly at that point, which meant those rose bushes were now in danger of being blasted apart, and the students behind them of being...whatever. What did it matter?

He brushed Karkaroff off as soon as he could and continued wandering through the gardens, no actual destination in mind. He just had to pass time until the ball came to an official end, at which point he would have to help in making sure the students all went to their dorms, and then aid in the cleaning.

...He could have been brewing potions right now.

Annoyed, Severus made an about-turn and had taken only two steps before someone literally ran into him. He stumbled slightly, straightened quickly, and was about to berate the idiot when he realized who it was. "Potter?"

The girl looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise. "Oh! I'm sorry, Professor!" She took a hasty step back, away from his personal space, fiddling with the fabric of her emerald-coloured dress.

Severus looked at her closer and then frowned. "Your face is flushed. Are you ill?"

"Huh?" Potter blinked, and then the flush in her cheeks deepened, travelling down her neck and up to her ears. "N-no! I'm fine! I just...saw...uh..." Her eyes flickered over to the rose bushes.

"Ah." Severus didn't need her to elaborate. She must have seen a couple in one of the many bushes getting along a little too well. Which meant she was embarrassed, rather than ill. ...How strangely endearing.

He regarded her a moment, watched the way she nervously shifted from one foot to the other, which must have been painful in those shoes she was wearing, and then, before he could stop himself, asked, "I had expected you would be inside with your...date."

"...Date? Oh! You mean Ginny? She's busy dancing with her friends."

"Should she not be dancing with you?"

Potter paled. "I don't dance!" she protested quickly. "And the dancing I did earlier was literally because I had no choice. Do you know how long it took Hermione to teach me just that little bit!? Ages! Literally ages! I never want to do that again! ...Uh, sir."

Severus frowned slightly, growing more curious now. "Then you invited Miss Weasley..."

"Cause I didn't care about any of the boys who asked me and had to have a date. Ginny's a third year, and she was really disappointed that she wasn't going to get to go to the ball, especially because most of her friends had been asked to go with older boys.

"I think Neville was originally planning on asking her, but then he asked Hannah, you know, from Hufflepuff, and I figured I'd just ask Ginny to go with me, so I wouldn't have to worry about boys, and she'd get to be with her friends, and I could mess with everyone by going with a girl," Potter finished with an unconcerned shrug.

Severus stared. That was...more thought out than he'd been expecting. Potter certainly had 'messed' with everyone by attending with the Weasley girl on her arm, that was for sure. Many who had seen the entrance had been utterly scandalized by the sight of the two girls, and Severus knew he was going to be more surprised if tomorrow's paper didn't have Potter and Weasley on the front page.

Honestly, Severus was more amused than anything else (now that he understood her intentions). Potter truly was such a strange girl…

Chapter Text

Severus felt no calmer during the second task than he had during the first. Dumbledore had off-handedly mentioned this task was somewhat safer than the first, but now that he knew exactly what the task was, Severus couldn't agree in the slightest.

Something very important had been taken from each Champion and placed near the bottom of the Black Lake, guarded by merpeople. The competitors had one hour exactly to retrieve this important item.

Of course, that meant they had to discover a way to breathe underwater for an extended period of time. And in Potter's case, learn to swim as well, apparently, which would explain why he'd been catching her and Granger near the Prefect's bath and then out by the lake over the past couple of weeks. Granger had been attempting to teach Potter to swim.

Unfortunately, the important 'items' taken from the Champions that they had to rescue were people. This did not bode well. Potter's reaction when she learned who her 'important person' was only increased that sentiment.

"Ron?" she exclaimed incredulously in question to Dumbledore and McGonagall. "Seriously? Ron? I mean, he's a friend, and I love the guy like a brother, but he's the person I find most important in my life?"

"Well-"

"It's probably actually Hermione. But she's Krum's important person, isn't she? That's what you said, right? Even though they only started dating less than two months ago. ...Oh, but it's the same for Cedric, isn't it? He and Cho also only started dating then. And I've only known Ron for like, four years!

"...Why is Fleur's person the only one that makes sense!? It's like you decided, 'Oh, that Champion hangs out with that person a lot, let's stick them at the bottom of the lake'!" And then she threw her hands up in the air in an obvious gesture of frustration and walked over to the other competitors on the pier, who were watching her in amusement.

Severus turned away quickly, very nearly laughing. It had only been a handful of years, but Potter had come a long way.

In the beginning, she'd never talked back to adults, regardless of how upset or confused or annoyed she'd been. But now it seemed she no longer felt that way and was deliberately talking back. She never went overboard with it, and she was always careful about the timing, but she did do it.

She must have been greatly annoyed. While Dumbledore had acknowledged that Potter hadn't entered her name into the Goblet of Fire, he'd made no progress on finding the true culprit. As far as Severus knew, there was no search happening at all.

And so, Potter was once more stuck competing, this time shoving a handful of what Severus immediately recognized as gillyweed (his eyes narrowed) into her mouth, before diving into the lake.

Unlike the first task, there was no way of seeing what was happening down in the lake, leaving the spectators in the stands staring at the rippling water for a while, before they turned to their neighbours to chat as they waited for something interesting to happen.

Severus had no desire to speak to anyone and remained as he was, the fingers of his right hand absently passing over the soulmark hidden under the sleeve of his left wrist. It didn't hurt, which was a good sign. Whatever was happening to Potter right now, it wasn't putting her in mortal peril…

Potter was the first to emerge from the lake, well before the hour-long time limit, Weasley in tow, the boy regaining consciousness the moment his head broke through the water. They swam back and were immediately fussed over by Poppy, who most certainly wasn't enjoying this tournament.

The spectators turned their attention back to the lake and watched eagerly, expecting the other Champions to return. And sure enough, Delacour emerged a moment later, though surprisingly, she was alone and panicking greatly.

Diggory was the next to emerge from the lake, Chang with him, just barely making it in the time limit. And finally, a fair few minutes after the time limit, Krum and Granger emerged as well, at which point Dumbledore spoke to the Chief of the Merpeople to retrieve Delacour's younger sister, who was returned safely just a few minutes later.

Severus turned his attention back to Potter, curious to see how she was going to react now that it was clear everyone was safe and out of the water. And just like he'd expected, the moment the scores began being shown, Potter simply walked off, not bothering to see any of them, least of all her own.

Once again whispers broke out as she did this, but the girl didn't look back. She was making it clear that even though she was competing, she was doing so unwillingly.

Still, Dumbledore was sure to loudly announce her scores the next morning in the Great Hall during breakfast. But yet again, Potter paid it no attention, instead opting to tell Granger and Weasley, and rather animatedly at that, about the strange dream she'd had the night before that seemed to have heavily featured drowning goats.

Severus had a feeling it wasn't goats that had been drowning…

Chapter Text

His Dark Mark had stopped acting up, the occasional flickers of pain vanishing as if they hadn't been happening in the first place. Severus only grew more suspicious. The Dark Lord was going to return soon.

It was inevitable.

No mention was made of looking into who had entered Potter into the Triwizard Tournament, Moody was all but stalking him, Karkaroff wouldn't stop harassing him (which had very possibly resulted in Potter seeing his Dark Mark), Dumbledore wouldn't stop asking things of him-

Severus was feeling incredibly frustrated, and matters were made worse by the arrival of the final task in the tournament months later in May.

The Quidditch pitch had been turned into a massive maze of hedges (much to Potter and Diggory's dismay), and the first competitor to retrieve the Triwizard Cup at the centre of the maze would win the tournament. It sounded simple, sounded almost easy in comparison to the first two tasks.

Severus didn't like it.

But Potter was still making good progress in preparing for it, he decided. She was attempting to learn a number of spells of various origins that would have various results. She was creating a rather diverse arsenal for herself, one that was sure to be helpful to her during the task, and even beyond it…

On the day of the final task, the families of the four champions came to Hogwarts to see their children or siblings. Or rather, the families of three of the champions. Molly, Arthur, and Bill Weasley came to see Potter. Not her family. ...Why? Why hadn't her family come?

...Come to think of it, Potter never even received letters from her family while she was here at the castle, did she? Severus knew the girl was in contact with Black and Lupin, both of them sending letters as often as they could (though they couldn't come today for obvious reasons), but the two of them, along with select Weasleys were the only ones. Why was that?

No, perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised. Potter was staying with Petunia, wasn't she? Petunia, her husband, and her son. Severus remembered Tuney well. Had always hated her too. Was she jealous of her niece the same way she had been of her sister? Severus supposed he couldn't put it past her.

He should have focused on those thoughts more. He should have questioned them more. He should have analyzed them more. He should have paid more attention.

Severus sat in the stands with the other professors (who were to charge into action if necessary) as the third task began, once again feeling his heart pounding in his chest while he watched Potter, who had the highest score (though he doubted she truly cared), enter the maze first.

He knew of some of the creatures that had been placed within, and knowing Potter was walking in with nothing but the clothes on her back and the wand in her hand wasn't making him feel any better.

But this task, just like the previous one, had no way of showing what was happening, so once all four champions were finally inside the maze, the audience was left chatting as they waited for something to happen.

Severus didn't take his eyes off the maze though, watching for red sparks, regardless of who they came from. Part of him wished Potter would send them up just so her part in this damned tournament could finally come to an end. But he knew she wouldn't do that. Not unless she had no choice.

Potter may not be as stubborn as her mother, but there were times when she could certainly rival her. It was entirely possible that she'd decided to see this through to the end now that she had made it this far.

So he sat there, and he watched, and he waited, and he worried.

Maybe it was his pessimistic, cynical side speaking, but Severus knew something was going to happen. Something bad. And he was sure Potter was going to be involved in it somehow. She always was. Mostly unwillingly too…

Delacour was out of the tournament. Krum was too. That left only Diggory and Potter.

How far through the maze had they made it? How close were they to the Cup? It was a Portkey, Severus knew, made to bring the winner directly back to the maze's entrance. And that was where everyone continued to glance, the Hogwarts students all very excited. Whoever won now, it was a Hogwarts victory either way.

But no one appeared. The entrance remained empty.

What was taking those two so long? There were no red sparks appearing in the sky either. Had they run into something they couldn't beat? Had they been so injured they couldn't cast the spell? Had they died? There were so many things that could have happened in that maze, but with no way to see into it, all everyone could do was wait.

And then Severus clamped a hand over his left forearm, a startled sound of pain escaping him as his Dark Mark burned beyond anything he had felt for many, many years now.

He stood abruptly, descending the stands and moving into a shaded corner out of view where he could roll up his left sleeve. The Dark Mark's colour had darkened back into what it had once been so many years ago. Severus' eyes fell shut.

The Dark Lord had returned.

Severus stared at the mark for a long, silent moment, before he finally rolled his sleeve back down and began walking back to the stands, only to realize Moody was watching him closely, both of his eyes, fake and real, focused on him intently.

Severus paused when Moody began limping towards him, cursing under his breath, when his soulmark began to hurt too, signalling that Potter was in mortal peril. That was no surprise now that he knew the Dark Lord had returned.

Then heard the sudden outcry.

He and Moody both turned, and Severus' heart leapt into his throat when he saw the bodies. He watched Dumbledore rush over, but he himself remained frozen in place, unable to bring himself to move. His soulmark had been paining him, yes, but not to an extent where Potter should have been-

No, no, Potter was alive, he saw just a moment later, Dumbledore hauling her off of-oh. Potter was alive, but Diggory was not so fortunate.

"Severus, I need you here!" Dumbledore called out, and while there was no panic in his voice, there was no calm in it either.

It was only now that Severus moved. Approaching the scene, he kneeled before Diggory. He didn't need a spell to tell him the boy had passed on. He was already beginning to pale, his skin already beginning to cool, his eyes open wide and unseeing. And even as Severus examined him, he heard Potter speak, her voice hoarse, as if she had been screaming.

"He's back. Voldemort's back. He killed Cedric with-with the killing curse. Ced-Cedric wanted me to bring his body back."

"Severus?"

"He's gone." And if Potter was telling the truth about the killing curse, then there was no bringing him back either.

Diggory's father released a sound that could only be described as a wail, fully audible even over the roar of the crowd, many others crying out in fear and sadness. They had lost one of their own.

The scene became one of pure chaos.

The most important thing was to get Diggory's body somewhere safe, so that was what Severus ended up helping in, along with McGonagall and Dumbledore, the other staff members attempting to calm down the panicking audience.

In all the mess and the concern for Diggory, no one, not even Severus, noticed that Moody and Potter had slipped away. In fact, it was Poppy who asked about the girl some minutes later, after she had examined Diggory herself and come to the conclusion that he had indeed been hit with the killing curse.

Severus was the first to rush out of the hospital wing, McGonagall and Dumbledore following along before the Headmaster took the lead and brought them directly to Moody's office.

Potter was the first thing Severus saw when the door was blasted open. She'd pressed herself up against the wall, pale and trembling, green eyes wide with fear and locked on the man standing on the other side of the room.

Moody-no, not Moody. Barty Crouch Jr. That was an unexpected surprise, to say the least. The real Moody being locked up in a trunk was an even bigger one. And learning how Barty had escaped Azkaban was perhaps the biggest shock of them all.

But now Severus had his answer on how Potter had been entered into the Triwizard Tournament in the first place. It was Barty who had entered her on the Dark Lord's orders.

...How had Dumbledore not noticed that someone had been impersonating his closest friend for multiple months?

But no one got all the answers needed from Barty, because once Dumbledore took Potter away, Fudge-that fool, wasted little time in having Barty Kissed. All that did was ensure Barty could tell them nothing more about the Dark Lord or his plans.

And when Severus entered the Hospital Wing afterwards, he found Potter asleep, and it was only now that he was told what happened. The graveyard, Diggory's death, the resurrection, the duel.

"Severus, I'll need you to-"

He merely nodded. At this point in time, Severus truly did not know which side he wanted to be on. He didn't trust Dumbledore, but the Dark Lord had, at least all those years ago, gone insane. Was he still insane? Severus supposed he was about to find out.

Dumbledore patted his shoulder and walked out of the Hospital Wing, leaving Severus alone with the soundly sleeping Potter who was no doubt under the influence of a dreamless sleep potion-something he was glad for. This could very well be the last night of peaceful sleep she was going to get for a long while.

Severus cast one final look at the girl before he began making his way out of the castle, preparing himself to resume his duties as a spy…

Chapter Text

Summer break was more than a little unpleasant for Severus. Being a spy was a lot more difficult than he'd been expecting it to be. It was exhausting, stressful, and at times, somewhat terrifying as well.

He'd always known it was something he would have to do one day, but even knowing that didn't make it any easier. And on top of everything, he still wasn't sure which side he actually wanted to support.

Severus hadn't had any problems siding with the Dark Lord and had willingly been marked as a Death Eater. He'd done terrible things in that position, some of which he regretted and others which he honestly didn't. But then the Dark Lord had become obsessed with the prophecy and Potter, and the results of that were the reason why Severus had defected from the dark.

Joining the light had been the last resort. With Lily's life in danger, Severus hadn't been able to think of any other way to save her besides having Albus Dumbledore's protection.

His decision to defect to the light never had anything to do with Dumbledore or his ideals. All he'd wanted to do was keep Lily alive and safe-keep Lily's family alive and safe. But he'd never actually trusted Dumbledore. Not when he'd first joined him, and not now.

And so, when he'd first answered the Dark Lord's call upon his return, Severus had gone in with an open mind, curious to see how his lord might have changed over the years. But he'd left that meeting disappointed.

The Dark Lord hadn't changed. In fact, his obsession with Potter had only grown. Because of this, helping Dumbledore was the lesser of two evils. The Dark Lord wanted Potter dead. Dumbledore wanted Potter alive.

But even then, Severus was stuck as a double spy, serving two masters he didn't like or even trust.

It was for Potter, he told himself. All of it. Everything. He would do whatever he had to, even if he hated it, so long as she was kept safe.

The Order of the Phoenix had reformed.

While Severus knew all about the group, having fought against them previously, he'd never been part of them before, but now that he was, he was far from impressed.

They didn't trust him, of course, and he didn't care about that in the slightest. Frankly, it was amusing. The problem was that the majority of them seemed to be incompetent. Very incompetent.

Potter was doomed if they were the ones meant to guard her.

And guard Potter was exactly what they were going to do. They were going to take shifts to stand outside of Potter's house, intercept any post she sent or received, and follow her if she ever left the house, no matter where she went.

Severus wasn't sure if he was relieved or not when he was assigned a different task. The Dark Lord didn't trust him entirely just yet, so the further he stayed away from Potter right now, the better.

Black wouldn't willingly harm Potter, but he was forbidden from leaving the house for his own safety-the dementor's kiss upon discovery was threat enough. Lupin wouldn't willingly harm Potter either, at least while he was in human form, but he was being sent to attempt to recruit other werewolves instead of being put on guard duty.

Moody and Shacklebolt were alright, though neither of them trusted Severus much at all, and Bill and Charlie Weasley were soon going to join the Order as well, once they were able to tie all loose ends with their respective jobs in Egypt and Romania.

Severus did notice something interesting though.

He, Lupin, Black, and one or two others weren't given Potter's address. They weren't told why either. Did Dumbledore not trust them enough to tell them, or was there some other reason for it?

Between spying on the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters for Dumbledore, and spying on Dumbledore and the Order for the Dark Lord, Severus was kept extremely busy. So, when he first got the news of Potter's expulsion from Hogwarts, he was more annoyed than anything else. But he calmed quickly and when he did, he soon grew confused.

The story he was told was that Potter encountered two dementors in her Muggle neighbourhood and in an attempt to save both herself and her Muggle cousin, conjured her Patronus to run the creatures off. Due to being underage and casting the spell in front of a Muggle, however, the Ministry swiftly expelled her from school.

The decision made no sense.

While it was true Potter had broken two separate laws, there were special clauses that allowed one to cast spells if one was in danger. If there truly were dementors attacking, and Potter certainly had no reason to lie about that, then she had every right to cast the spell if it meant keeping her and her cousin safe from them.

"It's a trap, I expect," said Dumbledore during the emergency Order meeting he'd called. "Cornelius and the Ministry as a whole refuse to accept Voldemort's return. As I'm sure you've all noticed, there have been many attempts to slander both me and young Violet in the past couple of months and I assume they've begun to realize those attempts aren't managing to stop me. In light of this, they seem to have hatched a new plan, and their attempts to expel Violet are it."

"Then, she's really expelled?" asked Lupin worriedly.

"Not anymore," said Dumbledore. "I've been able to convince them to reverse their decision and hold a hearing for her instead. That is how such a situation would typically be handled regardless. They will listen to Violet's side of the story and fortunately for us, we have a witness as well.

"If they deem her innocent after that, she will be free to return to Hogwarts. If not, they will once again expel her and if that happens, I doubt there will be anything even I can do."

"What about the dementors though?" asked Black with a frown. "Why'd they attack Violet? And what's the Ministry saying about them?"

"They do not believe dementors were attacking, to begin with," said Dumbledore with a sigh, "and there are no records of dementors being sent to her neighbourhood. I checked the records myself. As for why they attacked her, I cannot say."

"Do you know anything about this, Severus?" asked Molly Weasley, concern painted across her face.

"I do not," said Severus. "As far as I am aware, the dementors do not work for or with the Dark Lord, though he has been attempting to recruit them, and nor has there ever been plans to use said dementors to attack Potter. I doubt the Dark Lord would do this at all, considering Potter losing her soul would mean her losing her will to fight, and that is the opposite of what he desires." He removed a loose thread from his sleeve, then continued.

"While I have not been told what happened when he returned, he has mentioned to me and others that he greatly enjoyed his 'duel' with the girl. He wants her to fight him. An empty shell cannot fight."

Black made an angry sound, but Lupin nodded slowly. "That does make sense. It's true Violet losing her soul would make her much easier to kill, but her attempts to fight back probably amuse him. If he likes it that much, I can't see him doing something like sending dementors after her."

Tonks folded her arms, her hair shifting through various shades of blue. "Do you think someone else sent them after her?"

"It's certainly possible," said Dumbledore with a nod. He sipped from the tea cup Molly had placed in front of him at the start of the meeting. "It could have been someone from the Ministry, a Death Eater acting without his lord's orders, or perhaps a dark sympathizer who simply isn't a Death Eater at all. And as frustrating as it may be to admit, there is also a chance that this was simply an oddly timed coincidence."

That was unlikely, but certainly possible, Severus had to admit. Potter was nothing if not a magnet for danger.

"While dementors are meant to be stationed at Azkaban, it's impossible to say that every single one is. I think it unlikely for there not to be stragglers." Dumbledore drank more tea, then said, "And if someone other than Voldemort did send them, well, it's certainly very alarming. Few have the power to control dementors like this."

"What do you think this means, Albus?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I really don't know, Arthur."

Chapter Text

Potter had made it through the hearing. She was allowed to return to Hogwarts.

Not alone, Severus forced down the relieved sigh that threatened to escape him as he listened to Dumbledore recount the hearing to the Order. A full court hearing for underage magic and exposure of magic to a Muggle who already knew it existed? How could they excuse that for anything other than unfair bias? Murder trials weren't even full courts half of the time!

"They sound desperate," said Lupin, voicing the very same thing Severus had been thinking. "Considering how reluctant they were to even listen to any of you, I'd say there's a good chance the dementors were sent by one of them."

"Can't put it past 'em," said Black in a mutter. Though, it wasn't as if he needed much reason to distrust the Ministry. "They're doing everything they can to discredit Violet, so why's she expected to help keep them safe? Why should she bother?"

"Now, Sirius-"

"No, answer me honestly, Albus," said Black. He leaned forward in his seat, gripping the edge of the table, grey eyes fixed on the headmaster. "They would rather see Violet lose her soul than admit Voldemort is back. If they can't even say he's back, they won't do anything to help her fight. So, why should she risk her life for people like them? If anything, she's the one at risk from them!"

"I understand how you feel, Sirius," said Dumbledore, his tone familiarly placating, "but you must understand. If Violet starts to pick and choose who is and isn't worth saving, she will be no different than Voldemort and that is something we do not want."

Black leaned back in his seat again, scowling. Severus was no different. Loathe as he was to admit it, he agreed with Black.

This entire situation had made it more than clear that the Ministry was essentially in favour of killing Potter if it meant they could continue being ignorant of the Dark Lord's return. Potter, it seemed, knew this as well. What reason did she have to continue aiding and fighting for those who openly wanted harm to come to her?

There was a good chance they would continue to deny everything and make more attempts on her life until she actually did manage to defeat the Dark Lord. They would accept and praise her then, Severus was sure, once everything was over and done with and they were guaranteed their own safety.

Pathetic.

The school year did not start well. They had already established that the Ministry was as much of a threat to Potter as the Dark Lord was, and yet they were being forced to accept one of the Ministry's own-Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, no less, in the castle. As a professor. The Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, on top of that.

By the end of the Welcoming Feast, Severus wanted nothing more than to go home, and it looked like quite a few students felt the same way. Hopefully, Potter would have the sense to keep her head down. The less attention she attracted from this Ministry bint, the better.

He should have known better than to expect something like that because Potter landed herself in detention with Umbridge by the end of her first lesson with the hag.

This was going to be a very long year.

Potter was hiding something. She was on edge, definitely wasn't sleeping well, and whatever the problem was, she was keeping it to herself, if Granger and Weasley's many exchanged glances had anything to say about it.

Severus thought the problem would pass, given enough time, but it only seemed to be getting worse.

He watched as, over the next few weeks, Potter grew paler and paler, until eventually, despite Granger's caution, Potter knocked over her cauldron during class.

Fortunately, the mess was cleaned easily and the potion was cool enough that the girl wasn't harmed. Still, Severus was almost relieved that he now had a reason to act and assigned her detention instantly.

Potter almost argued. He saw the sudden fire in her eyes, a fire that had been missing since she'd returned to the castle. And then Draco said something foolish and the fire died. She muttered acknowledgement of the detention and allowed Weasley and Granger to drag her out of the classroom.

Severus bit his tongue so he wouldn't lash out at Draco and called out for the students to hurry up and get out in his usual harsh manner. At least there were only a few hours until dinner. He wasn't going to have to wait long. He watched the rest of the students file out noisily and sighed once he was alone.

He was doing a very poor job of ignoring Potter.

Wondering why he was even bothering to deny everything in his own mind anymore, considering his behaviour, Severus returned to his classroom after dinner. Potter's detention was due to begin in five minutes.

She would arrive only a few seconds early, he figured, trying to delay the detention as long as possible. She was probably dreading it, wondering what torture he would inflict on her.

"Enter," Severus called out when there was a knock at the door. He glanced up when Potter walked in and checked the time subtly. Three seconds early. Just as he'd thought. "Sit. You will be writing something for me today."

Potter paled and her eyes widened. "W-what?"

Severus raised a brow. "I presume you know how to write, Potter?" Why did she look so alarmed? She was acting as if he'd told her to slaughter a first-year. "I have potion recipes that require being rewritten due to fading ink. And if, while doing this copying, you retain some of the instructions, all the better."

Potter relaxed infinitely, all but slumping in her seat. "Oh, alright. Er, I mean, yes, sir."

"Good." Severus used a spell to levitate the old parchments, the new parchments, an inkwell, and a quill across the room to the girl.

"So, you just want me to copy everything the way it is?"

"Yes."

"Okay." With that, Potter got to work immediately.

Severus watched her for a few seconds and then turned his attention to the essays that were waiting for him to drown in red ink. The dungeon classroom was quiet for a few minutes, and the only sound was the scribbling of both of their quills. But it wasn't going to be for long.

Fifteen minutes later, only Severus' quill could be heard. He looked up and, as expected, Potter had fallen asleep. She had managed to cushion her head on her left arm, though she still held the quill in her right hand. He sighed.

She'd lasted longer than he'd expected, but that was fine. He would wake her when the hour was up, scold her a little for falling asleep, remove a few points from Gryffindor, and then send her on her way.

He resumed his marking. This was fine.

Chapter Text

Things with Potter were getting worse, but now Weasley and Granger were also in on it. Whatever she'd been hiding from them, they'd either found out on their own and confronted her about it, or she'd finally told them about it herself, but now all three of them were behaving strangely.

Something was wrong with Potter's scar as well. She was trying to be surreptitious about it, but Severus had seen her wincing and rubbing it more than once. He'd asked Dumbledore about the scar, but as expected, he'd been told little to nothing about it. He'd also asked the Dark Lord, but he'd brushed it off, saying Potter must have headaches or the like.

It was difficult to say if they were genuinely unconcerned about Potter's scar, or if they truly didn't know there was a problem. Yet all this did was push Severus further away from both sides.

He knew he was going to have to make a decision at some point. He knew if he didn't do it first, a decision would be forced on him, and he knew he didn't want to risk that. But he still didn't make a move. He didn't want to help either side. Frankly, he would have been fine to leave the war entirely and go elsewhere. But he couldn't.

He had a duty towards Potter, for more than one reason. He couldn't afford to fail.

The weeks passed slowly and Severus found his attention consistently drawn to Potter. He kept trying to force that attention away, to focus on something else, but it never lasted. He had to keep some distance between them. For her safety. But then he was told to teach her occlumency.

Severus wanted to curse.

"I refuse."

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice, Severus," said Dumbledore solemnly. "Voldemort has become aware of the connection between his and Violet's minds and has begun using it to his advantage. If this continues, I have no doubt he will lure her into a trap."

"You're a master occlumens as well, no?" asked Severus, though it wasn't much of a question. "Why can you not teach her yourself?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "There is a reason I have been avoiding Violet this year."

Severus frowned. That didn't answer his question. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, already feeling a headache growing. "How do you propose I teach her?"

"Do whatever you see fit," said Dumbledore.

"...Very well." Frustrated by Dumbledore's unhelpfulness, Severus left the round office, his frown deepening. He'd been hoping to put more distance between him and Potter, but now he had to not only be alone with her more often but get inside her head as well.

It was only Christmas. How much worse was this year going to get?

Potter looked about as unhappy as Severus felt when she entered the potions classroom two days later. And that unhappiness grew worse when he told her why she had to be here.

"Occlumency?" she repeated. Her eyes widened. "S-so, you're saying you're going to get inside my head? What if I don't want you in there?"

"Unfortunately for the both of us, you have no choice in the matter, Potter," he said curtly. "You either tolerate having me enter your mind to teach you how to block that very thing, or you continue putting up with the Dark Lord entering your mind whenever he pleases."

Potter only glowered at his words. He couldn't fault her for being upset. He despised people, particularly those he hated, going through his mind as well.

"If you do not want me in your mind, push me out," said Severus. "The faster you learn, the faster these lessons will end."

Potter made a sound of frustration. "Fine. What do I have to do?"

"Clear your mind."

"How?"

"Stop thinking."

Potter looked like she had to make a conscious effort to stop herself from rolling her eyes. "Well, that's impossible. Anything else I can do instead?"

She was being quite rude. Severus was almost proud. The wide-eyed Potter who'd arrived at the castle for her first year would never have dared to speak like this, even to her most hated professor.

"Do you meditate, Potter?"

She raised a brow, no doubt forcing back a snarky response. Christmas break or not, he still had the power to remove points and assign her detention, and he knew she was well aware of it. "No," she replied.

"Do you know how to meditate?"

She shrugged. "Not really."

Since Potter was already seated, Severus decided to lower himself to her level (literally) and sat down across the desk. "Do you find it easier to focus on one thing instead of nothing at all?" he asked.

"I guess so?"

Her vague and curt responses were a little irritating, but Severus knew he had to keep the peace. He was the adult here. He was the professor as well. And as frustrating as this entire thing was, it was happening for a good reason. This would keep her safe.

That alone was reason enough to do it.

"Then we will go with that," said Severus. "Choose an object-any static object, and focus on it. Imagine what it looks like, imagine how it would feel if you were able to hold it, how it would smell if it has a scent, how it would taste if it has a taste. You may close your eyes if it helps you focus."

Potter shot him a hesitant look, but she did indeed close her eyes. He was a little surprised. Perhaps her distrust for him didn't go as deep as he'd thought it did.

Since her eyes were shut, he took a moment to regard her. She still looked pale, and the shadows under her eyes had grown darker. Dumbledore had told him the Dark Lord was interfering in her sleep but was that truly the only problem she was facing?

Hadn't McGonagall mentioned something about detentions? That was it. Potter had been getting almost non-stop detentions with Umbridge, hadn't she?

McGonagall had mentioned that she'd spoken to Potter and told her to keep her head down, but it appeared Potter had decided to ignore the advice and had landed herself in another month of detentions.

"Okay," said Potter after a few minutes. "I think I've got it." She opened her eyes. "What next?"

"Next, I will enter your mind using legilimency, the counterpart to occlumency," Severus explained. "You are to think of nothing other than the object you chose. If you think of anything else, the thought or memory will move to the forefront of your mind and I will be able to see it."

Potter frowned. "So, if I think about this object instead, it means I'm not thinking about anything else, and that means you won't be able to see anything other than the object?"

"Yes."

"How's that going to help when I'm sleeping though?" asked Potter. "I can't actively focus on something if I'm asleep."

"We will get to that," said Severus. "First, let us see if you are capable of blocking me while fully conscious."

"...Fine. Go ahead, then I guess. Sir."

Yes, if he wasn't the one she was speaking to right now, he certainly would have been quite proud of her growth into cynicism. "Are you prepared?"

"Yeah."

"Then stand before me." He stood as well, and once Potter was on her feet across the desk, raised his wand. "Focus, Potter. Legilimens!"

The first thing Severus saw when he slipped into Potter's mind was the golden snitch. He wasn't surprised that was the object she'd chosen to focus on. It hovered somewhere ahead of him, just out of reach.

He moved towards the snitch, but as he did, it disappeared for just an instant, allowing him to see something. The image he saw was just a brief flicker, and he saw the phrase 'I must not tell lies' written on parchment in red ink. But the snitch was back before he could look closer.

Slipping back out of Potter's mind, he regarded her closely as she reeled back a little and grimaced. "I must not tell lies?"

"The lines Umbridge makes me write in detention," Potter replied in a mutter, not making eye contact.

"And what exactly have you been lying about?"

"...Voldemort's existence."

Severus didn't say anything to that. He shouldn't have been surprised either. He sighed inwardly. "Again."

Occlumency lessons were not something Severus was enjoying, especially since it meant he now had to spend more time with Potter instead of less.

There was a part of him that wanted to tell Dumbledore that Potter was his soulmate in the hopes that he would then be forced away from her. But he had a feeling the exact opposite would happen. Dumbledore was strange that way.

He had his own plans in motion, just as the Dark Lord did and Severus was merely a pawn on the board, as Potter was.

The only good thing about the entire situation was that Potter was making astounding progress. He was able to teach her more every week or two, and she typically got the hang of it by the next lesson.

But while it was good, it was also a little concerning. He'd never seen Potter try so hard to learn something before. Was she that desperate to keep others out of her mind? What was she hiding in there that she was willing to put in this much work (and put up with him) if it meant keeping him and others out?

Severus didn't get an answer, but he wasn't sure he needed one. Regardless of what they had between them (something he still hadn't told her about, and something he had no plans to tell her about), he never should have been put in the position of having to enter her mind, in the first place.

But as he watched Potter, Granger, and Weasley whispering with their heads together, he decided it was still better than the girl not learning anything at all.

After all, not only would occlumency keep her mind safe from the Dark Lord, it would keep it safe from Dumbledore as well.

Chapter Text

"He's got Padfoot! He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

Severus didn't falter when he heard the desperate words, but he felt a lurch in his gut.

Potter had collapsed, screaming and clawing at her forehead in the middle of double potions. He approached her immediately, fully aware that this couldn't be good, but he hadn't expected her to look at him, watery green eyes filled with desperation and agony and say those words.

But he couldn't say anything. They were in the classrooms with all of the fifth-year Gryffindors and Slytherins. He couldn't risk it. Instead, he grabbed her by the arm and hauled her up, catching her when he fell into him, unable to hold herself up.

"Granger, Weasley, Malfoy, Parkinson, watch the class. No one is to leave until I return or the bell rings!" he barked. They were Prefects, the four of them, and while Draco and Parkinson were sure to antagonize the Gryffindors, and Weasley the Slytherins, he hoped Granger at least had the sense to keep the peace.

But when he looked at Draco and saw his face, he realized maybe Granger wouldn't be alone in taking charge. Draco looked shaken. Good. He needed to be. He was under too many delusions thanks to his Housemates. Lucius wasn't helping matters much either.

Without another word, Severus lifted Potter up, noting with some surprise that she barely weighed a thing. Strange. But he had more important things to worry about. Her face was flushed and streaked with tears that continued to fall. She'd shut her eyes tight and was still clawing at the scar on her forehead. He could see blood.

Severus should have taken her to the hospital wing, but he didn't bother. There was nothing Poppy was going to manage to do for the girl. He brought her to his office next to the classroom instead and sat her down in the chair across his desk.

"What did you see, Potter?"

And so, she told him about her vision. What she didn't know was the Hall of Prophecies in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry. Black kneeling between two of the shelves as the Dark Lord tortured him with the cruciatus curse.

There was a good chance this was a trap, Severus knew, but he also couldn't put it past Black to have left Order Headquarters. He'd been irritatingly restless the last few months and that restlessness had only grown worse by the week. If he'd given in and left, he may have gotten captured and taken to the Ministry to draw Potter out.

It would be a trap for Potter either way.

He couldn't contact Dumbledore-he had no clue where the Headmaster had gone after being forced out of the castle by the Ministry, so he contacted Order Headquarters directly (Umbridge trusted him, so his floo wasn't being monitored the way the others in the castle were), calling out Black's name.

"Severus? Is everything alright?"

It was Lupin who appeared instead, but that was better than nothing. "Is Black there?" he asked.

"Sirius? Yes, he's just in the other room," said Lupin.

"He has not left?"

"No?" Lupin looked at him curiously. "What's this about, Severus?"

"Potter had a vision. She claims the Dark Lord is torturing Black where the prophecy is being kept."

Lupin's eyes widened. "He must have sent her that vision to lure her there," he said slowly. "Sirius hasn't left in months."

"You are sure he is there?"

"Yes, I can hear him. Buckbeak's been injured and he's tending to his wing."

Severus nodded, satisfied. "Do not tell him about this. He'll rush off either to the Ministry or to Hogwarts if he learns of it."

Lupin nodded in turn. "You're right. It's for the best. How's Violet?"

"She'll live," was all he said before he broke the connection and returned to the girl. She'd stopped crying, but she was still grabbing at her scar.

"What happened? Is Sirius okay!?" she asked the instant she saw him.

"According to Lupin, Black is safe and sound at Order Headquarters," said Severus curtly. "The Dark Lord has, no doubt, sent you the vision to draw you to that room."

"Because of the prophecy?" said Potter curiously.

Severus' eyes narrowed. "Where did you hear that?" But when the girl didn't answer, he scowled. Well, no matter. At least she'd told him about it rather than run off to the Ministry alone. Noticing blood on her forehead again, he knelt before her. "Move your hand."

Potter hesitated but obeyed, lowering her hand out of the way, allowing him to see her head. She'd left small scratches around the scar from clawing at it, and the scar itself looked to have opened and bled a little. It seemed to have stopped now, leaving the wound somewhat inflamed.

"Why were you not occluding your mind?" he asked as he stood, moving to fetch a potion or two.

"I was!" Potter protested. "Or...I thought I was. I usually get a bit of a warning because my scar starts to hurt before anything else happens. And I've never gotten a vision during the day either. It hit out of nowhere! I tried to occlude as soon as it started, but it hurt too much to focus."

Severus didn't know whether the Dark Lord knew he'd been teaching Potter occlumency. It had never been mentioned if he did. But there had to be a reason he'd chosen to send the vision during the day instead of at night, as he typically did. Had he grown tired of waiting? Had he become desperate enough that he simply didn't care to wait?

The Dark Lord's obsession with Potter had only grown worse over the past year, and Severus thought it was very possible that he was right. There was a good chance the Dark Lord no longer wished to slowly and patiently draw Potter to the prophecy. Sending her a vision of him torturing Black in that room in the middle of the day was a plan that reeked of desperation.

But when Severus turned to Potter, he saw something else. She'd reached up to rub at her forehead again, this time with her left hand, and there he spotted something he'd never noticed before. Something that had no business being there.

"What have you done to your hand, Potter?"

Eyes wide, Potter immediately hid her left hand behind her back. "Nothing."

"Show me your hand."

"I'd rather not, thanks."

"Potter!"

She recoiled slightly when he raised his voice, and he almost felt guilty about it. Eyes downcast, she slowly brought her hand out from behind her back and held it out. There, on the back of her left hand, scarred into her skin, were the words, 'I must not tell lies'.

"This is the phrase you said Umbridge made you write during your detentions with her," said Severus. "Why have you carved it into your hand? Did she tell you to do it?"

Still not looking at him, Potter licked at dry lips. "She didn't...tell me to do it, exactly."

"Then?"

"It-it was the quill she made me write lines with," said Potter, voice hoarse. "It didn't use ink. And-and when I wrote, the words appeared on my hand. They-they would heal right away, at first. But after-after a while, they just stopped healing. Hermione thinks it's because I had so many detentions with her, my hand didn't get the chance to heal properly, so the words just ended up staying there."

"...A blood quill? She's been using a blood quill on all of you?"

Quickly, Potter shook her head. "Not on everyone else, just me. Something about me being 'Undesirable Number One' or something dumb like that."

Well, that was something, at least. It wasn't good the blood quill had been used on Potter, of course, but better one student than all of them, even if that one was one too many.

Kneeling again, Severus took Potter's left hand to get a better look at the words carved into her skin, and his thumb brushed over the letters. They had been cut in surprisingly deep. There was no chance of the scars fading on their own anytime soon, and since blood quills were dark magic, regular spells, potions, and salves weren't going to help either.

"When did you last have detention with Umbridge?" he asked.

"Oh, er, four days ago, I think? Maybe five."

He'd thought as much judging by the scabs. "And how long do these detentions typically last? An hour?" Most of them only had hour-long detentions because they had better things to do with their lives.

"It was almost always four hours," said Potter a little cautiously. "Eight until midnight."

"She forced you to write with a blood quill for four hours straight nearly every night?"

"Yeah."

Severus grit his teeth. He was angry. Angry, furious, seething with rage, but he forced himself to push that anger down and rose. "Murtlap essence will help with the pain and swelling," he said, but to his surprise, Potter nodded. "Are you already aware of that?"

"Hermione."

"Ah." He went to get some anyway. In the storeroom, away from Potter's eyes, he paused to take a breath and reinforce his own mental shields. He would get angry later.

Returning to Potter after a moment, he soaked a small towel in the murtlap essence and pressed it over the back of the girl's hand, a little relieved when she relaxed. "Why did you not tell anyone about this?"

"...I tried to tell Professor McGonagall," said Potter after a beat of silence, "but she didn't let me get to the point and just told me to keep my head down."

Severus scowled. How typical. McGonagall wasn't as bad as some of the other staff in the castle, and though she cared about her Gryffindors fiercely, she also had to be in the mood for it. If she was caught on a bad day, it was difficult to get her to care. And with the number of detentions Potter had been getting, she'd come across as a true 'problem child', a title Severus loathed.

The Ministry being involved didn't help matters either. The staff didn't want to get on Umbridge's bad side due to her link at the Ministry and more specifically, her link to the Minister. So, telling Potter to keep her head down was safer than interfering and risking Umbridge's attention and wrath.

Still, he was going to have to tell Dumbledore about this. Blood quills were highly illegal. Just the possession of one meant a lifetime sentence in Azkaban. The Headmaster was going to have to do something about this.

But he didn't get the chance.

Severus hadn't even turned before his Dark Mark began to burn and at the same moment, Potter gasped, wet towel falling to the stone floor as she pressed both hands to the scar on her forehead.

"He-he was spotted!" Potter choked out. "At the-at the Ministry!"

And barely an hour later, everyone else found out about it as well. The evening edition of the Daily Prophet featured the Dark Lord on the front page. He was standing in the atrium at the Ministry, and there were at least a hundred Ministry workers there to witness it.

Which meant the vision he'd sent to Potter about Black was a trap.

If the Dark Lord had been at the Ministry after sending Potter the vision, then Severus had no doubt he'd been expecting Potter to rush over to rescue her godfather. She would have been ambushed then, either by the Dark Lord himself or some of the Inner Circle Death Eaters.

It was fortunate that Potter had had that vision during his lesson.

After sending Potter off to Gryffindor Tower with more murtlap essence, Severus headed for the Headmaster's office and was unsurprised to find Dumbledore was already there.

Before Dumbledore could speak, Severus told him about Potter's vision in class, his Dark Mark hurting afterwards, and Potter's second vision that happened at the same moment. And he also told him about Umbridge's blood quill and the words that had been permanently carved into the back of Potter's hand.

Fortunately, Dumbledore seemed quite angry about Umbridge, and the woman was removed from the castle within minutes, much to the celebration of the students (and a good deal of the staff as well).

For once, things appeared to be going well. Umbridge was gone, the general public was aware the Dark Lord had returned, and the Ministry was being forced to take action. Potter was safe as well.

But of course, the more Severus thought things were improving, the more he began to dread they would only get worse. Because they always did. Without fail.

And exactly as expected, Summer for Severus began painfully. The Dark Lord was furious that Potter didn't fall for his ploy and as had become normal now, he took his anger out on his followers. Severus had become disgustingly used to the cruciatus curse and he hated it.

For once he wanted term to start up again so he wouldn't have to worry about being summoned. The Dark Lord valued his position in the castle and tended to avoid summoning him during the school term unless absolutely necessary.

Severus thought the public becoming more aware of the Dark Lord's return would have meant the Order would be more active, but somehow, they were doing even less now.

Lupin was again sent to recruit werewolves, and Bill Weasley was told to attempt to convince the goblins at Gringotts to join their side. Shacklebolt and Tonks were told to find new Order members at the Ministry as well, but other than that no one was doing much of anything. Even Potter's guard had been removed, though Severus wasn't told why.

The decision made little sense to him. Wasn't Potter in more danger now? Especially considering the Dark Lord's anger regarding his recent failure.

The only good thing about it was that the Dark Lord didn't know where Potter lived. He hadn't asked Severus about it yet, and he was glad for that because he didn't know the answer either. Dumbledore had never told him Potter's address. Was that on purpose, Severus wondered?

Dumbledore was hiding something as well. Or hiding something new, at least. Severus knew he was always hiding things from the rest of them. He was disappearing for days at a time, but whenever he was asked where he was going, he would only change the subject. He did the same if he was asked why he kept leaving.

Severus' Dark Mark hurt him more often than it didn't, but to his relief, his soulmark remained painless. He wasn't expecting Potter to be in any danger-she was at home, after all, and he'd been told that she had learned about the blood wards keeping her safe from the Dark Lord, which meant it was unlikely that she would leave the property.

But he still worried and he was past telling himself he needed to deny it. He knew he would never act on that concern-Potter deserved far better than him in every way, after all, but denying everything was beginning to become exhausting.

Even then, he could never let her know the truth. It was incredibly selfish of him, but he'd done plenty of selfish things throughout his life. He'd hidden many things from Potter as well. What was one more?

But Severus wasn't the only one hiding things.

Chapter Text

Severus was an observant man. He had to be in his profession. That was why he always knew what went on and why it was so hard for others to keep secrets from him. He always found out the truth, whether they intended for him to or not.

Some students were good at keeping secrets. Others were...less good. Violet Potter was in the latter group. Severus didn't know if Potter was aware of it or not, but she was an abysmal liar.

She didn't lie often, but he always knew when she tried-like when he'd bumped into her in the Entrance Hall before the Welcoming Feast that evening, where he'd asked her whether she'd bothered to do her summer homework or not.

Yes, Potter truly was an astoundingly awful liar, Severus thought as he walked along the deserted, torch-lit corridor.

It was just past midnight and he'd nearly finished his patrol duty. As soon as he was done, he was going to return to his quarters and go to bed. He was eager to get some sleep. Fortunately, it appeared to be a quiet night.

So, of course, that was when he heard the footsteps.

They were quiet footsteps, too light to belong to any adult. A student, then. Either someone light on their feet naturally or someone deliberately trying to keep quiet. That didn't matter though. It was past curfew for all students, including the older ones. None of them had any business being here this late.

It was their first day back and they were already breaking the rules?

The footsteps stopped and were followed by a soft shuffling sound that also went silent after a few seconds. Irritated, because this only meant his entire schedule would be ruined now, Severus disillusioned himself and stepped forward, intending to scare the recklessness out of whoever this fool was.

He went around the corner and just a few steps down the corridor, he found the culprit. Potter.

The windows in this part of the castle were quite large and their windowsills were just as big. Potter was seated on one of these sills, back to the stone wall, legs stretched out along the sill, head resting against the window she was gazing out of.

She was dressed in shorts and a tee shirt, and her feet were bare, a pair of slippers on the floor under the windowsill. He assumed that meant she'd slipped out of bed to come here.

Why was it her? Why did it always have to be Potter? Couldn't she spare him for even one night? He rubbed at his soulmark absently and was just about to remove his disillusion charm when he heard footsteps coming from behind him. A voice sounded just as he turned.

"I had a feeling I'd find you here."

Draco didn't see the still invisible Severus as he walked past him, and Severus watched tensely as Draco approached Potter, waiting for the insults or hexes to begin. But they never did.

Stopping at the windowsill Potter was sitting on, Draco tapped one of Potter's shins, and Potter pulled her legs back. Draco sat down on the stone windowsill where Potter's feet had been and groaned.

"Salazar, it's been a long day."

"Seems like it," said Potter, looking amused. "You're still in your uniform."

"Pansy wouldn't leave me alone," said Draco with a shrug.

"Oh, you poor thing," said Potter sarcastically.

Draco only laughed. "What about you?" he asked once he'd sobered. "Why are you here instead of in bed?"

"Needed some time alone myself," Potter replied with a shrug of her own.

Draco raised a brow. "We've only been back a few hours. Already tired of playing the good little Gryffindor?"

Severus stared at the scene unfolding before him in baffled shock. Instead of arguing and hexing one another, Potter and Draco actually seemed to be getting along. To a point where he was beginning to wonder how long this had been going on. This couldn't be the first time they had done this.

"...You know," said Potter slowly. "Sometimes I do regret not letting the Sorting Hat put me in Slytherin. It's kind of funny how I let a few things Ron and Hagrid said sway me away from that House. I didn't even know anything about it, but I still begged the Hat not to put me there."

"Bet your first impression of me didn't help either," said Draco wryly.

"It really didn't!" said Potter, laughing cheerfully. She calmed quickly. "I love being in Gryffindor, but it does get kind of...frustrating sometimes, especially after the shit they pulled last year."

"Do they actually believe the Dark Lord is back this time?"

"Yeah, but only because the Daily Prophet's finally reported it. If it hadn't, I bet they'd still doubt it, even though I'm not the only witness this time. He was spotted by like, a hundred Ministry morons this time around."

What exactly was this discussion? It would be one thing if they were speaking about their classes or O. or quidditch, but they were going on about far more serious topics than something that mundane.

What was going on between them? Severus felt a pang in his gut. Were they-? But, no, they weren't speaking as if they were secret lovers. Were they friends, perhaps? But if they were friends, then when had that happened? And how?

"How was your summer?" asked Draco after a pause. "You don't look well."

And she truly didn't, Severus realized, looking at Potter closer. She looked pale and almost a little sickly. She looked thinner too, and it seemed as if she hadn't slept well in days.

"The Order decided it would be a grand idea to threaten my uncle into treating me better," said Potter candidly.

"Let me guess, it backfired?"

"Epically," said Potter with a nod. "So, my summer went about as well as you're probably thinking, and was likely much worse."

Draco sighed but didn't look surprised. "Do you need anything?" he asked. "A pain relief potion or a bruise salve or something?"

Potter smiled. "Thanks, but Neville's already beaten you to it. I'm mostly healed up. It's just gonna take a few meals to get my weight back up."

Draco frowned. Reaching out, he closed a hand around Potter's wrist. "You're practically skin and bones. How long did they starve you for this time?"

"Not more than a week at a time," said Potter, and the tone of her voice made it sound as if she was trying to be reassuring. "I usually passed out by day four or five, so they'd stop there and let me eat for a week before they'd do it again. It was always as a punishment though, but since my sin is that I exist, well, can't do shit about it."

"You're too blasé about this," Draco muttered with a scowl.

Extracting her wrist out of his grip, Potter patted Draco's hand comfortingly. "You get used to it. Besides, I won't have to put up with it for much longer. I turn seventeen at the end of July, so I just have to get through one last month with them."

"Unless they kill you first."

"Oh, they won't go that far," said Potter with laughter in her voice. "They're too scared. They know they can get away with starving me for a few days and smacking me around, since they've been doing it like, forever, and no one's stopped them. But my uncle knows he'll be doomed if he goes and kills me. He likes his life too much to risk that."

Severus stood there, still invisible, listening in growing horror. This conversation had taken a terrifyingly unpleasant turn. He knew he needed to step in. He knew he needed to question Potter about this. But he couldn't move.

"Did you even get to do anything over the break?" asked Draco.

"Nah. If I wasn't doing chores, I was locked in my cupboard. Not much chance to enjoy the vacation from in there."

Draco's eyes widened. "They locked you in there again? But why?"

"My uncle had some deal at work that fell through or something," said Potter, stretching her legs out across Draco's lap. He didn't stop her. "He decided it was the Order's fault, and since he couldn't get pissed at them, he decided to take it out on me. Not for the first time.

"Didn't even get to do my homework," she added. "They refused to let me touch my school stuff. I tried to get some of it done on the train, but those essays take ages to write." She sighed sorrowfully. "I'm going to get so many detentions this week."

With a sigh of his own, Draco leaned his head back against the window behind him. "I'll get you a nutrient potion," he said. "Those aren't hard to make. It'll be better for you to take that instead of gorging yourself at mealtimes."

"Fair point. Thanks. Anyway, enough about my gobshite summer. How was yours?"

"Nowhere near as eventful as yours, thank Salazar," said Draco with a grin. "Mother spent the entire summer telling me how beneficial it'll be if I marry Pansy. It doesn't matter how many times I tell her I'm not interested. She keeps saying it's what's best for the family name."

So, Narcissa was still on about that, was she? Severus knew she'd mentioned it to Draco before, but Lucius hadn't said it was still an ongoing issue.

Potter frowned. "Why are you so against it? Aren't these kinds of marriages normal with Purebloods? And besides, isn't she your soulmate?"

Parkinson was Draco's soulmate? Severus had never heard about that.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. If I'm to marry someone, I want it to be someone I actually like. I know it's stupid," Draco added defensively, "but mother and father can barely stand each other, and I don't want to end up like that too, soulmate or not. They're soulmates too, you know."

Severus had known there were some problems between Lucius and Narcissa, but both of them had assured him Draco didn't know about any of it. It seemed they were wrong. Though, most parents were wrong when it came to their children's knowledge regarding their marital problems.

"You're right," said Potter easily. "That seems like a terrible way to live. It's one thing if everyone involved is okay with it, but it's not great if you really don't want to do it. What if you tell her you're already seeing someone else?"

"I've already tried that," said Draco bitterly. "It didn't work. She just asked Pansy."

"Oof, yeah, Parkinson knows pretty much everything gossip-worthy around here," said Potter with a grimace. She scratched her chin absently. "What if you tell her you're with me?"

"What!? Are you mad!?"

Severus was wondering that himself.

"I mean, it'll get her off your back, won't it?" asked Potter. "And when you're questioned about it, you can say something like how you're just messing with me and softening me up for Voldemort or something."

"That'll only get you killed, you idiot."

Potter shrugged. "Meh. Voldemort's probably gonna kill me one day anyway."

"I refuse."

"It was just a suggestion," said Potter with another shrug. "Honestly, I think your best bet is either hooking up with someone else or getting stern with your mum and telling her to leave you the hell alone. You're only sixteen anyway. Wizards live for over a hundred years. You don't need to marry immediately after leaving Hogwarts. Teen marriages really can't be that beneficial anymore anyway."

"You aren't wrong," Draco admitted, "but it isn't as if mother will ever approve of the person I actually like. Not that I even have much of a chance with her."

Potter smiled again, but it was a soft smile this time. "You really should just apologize to her, you know. She might surprise you."

Draco made a face that made it very clear that he didn't believe Potter at all. "...Maybe I will take you up on your offer. If we get married, none of this will matter."

"That'll go against the whole you not marrying unless you like your partner thing. You don't like me that way, Draco. And besides, you're cute, but you're not my type. I prefer tall, dark, and handsome, not medium, blond, and smarmy."

"Oh, thanks," said Draco as he shoved Potter's legs off his lap. But then he began to laugh, and he laughed so hard he choked and started to cough.

"Whoa, you alright, there?" asked Potter, leaning over to clap him on the back a few times.

"Yeah," said Draco breathlessly once he'd managed to stop coughing. "Yeah, I'm fine. Guess I really needed the laugh."

"Looked like you did, too." But Potter was frowning again. "You look exhausted. I suppose we should probably head to bed." She glanced down at her left wrist. "Shoot, I forgot I took my watch off. What time is it?"

"Just gone one," Draco replied after casting a tempus charm. "Damn, that was quick."

"You're telling me," said Potter straightening up and stretching.

"Time for you to go back to being innocent and naïve?"

"Ugh. I'm a Gryffindor, not a Hufflepuff."

But Potter's response only had Draco laughing again. When he'd sobered, he pushed himself to his feet and Potter did the same. Severus watched as the two exchanged goodnights and headed in opposite directions. He watched them go until they were out of sight and he was alone.

Severus was incredibly confused. Potter and Draco were friends, and by the sounds of it, had been for at least a few months now. This wasn't recent and certainly couldn't have happened this past summer. Had it been last year?

He couldn't remember noticing anything different between the two of them last year. Potter had been angry and secretive, and Umbridge had been ruining everything good about his home, but Potter and Draco's relationship had seemed as antagonistic as always.

They had to be quite close if they trusted one another with information regarding their personal lives, not to mention making jokes about marrying one another, and they were discussing the Dark Lord openly as well.

Severus had prided himself on his observational skills. He'd thought he'd been more than correct when thinking Potter was an abysmal liar and had assumed he knew everything about Draco's life as well. And yet, both of them had managed to hide this from not only him but nearly everyone else in the castle too.

No one would have been able to resist talking about a friendship between the two of them, but he hadn't heard a single word about it. How many did know?

If he made a few assumptions based on things they had implied, it sounded as if Longbottom knew about it. What about Granger and Weasley? Did they know? And what about Draco's friends? Not Crabbe or Goyle-they would never manage to keep anything quiet, but Zabini or perhaps Nott?

Severus was confused and he hated feeling this way. He wasn't upset about the friendship exactly, but he couldn't say it was a good thing either. Many would oppose it for various reasons.

Really, it was no wonder Potter and Draco had chosen to keep the entire affair quiet. He was going to have to pay closer attention to them from now on.

Chapter Text

Potter and Draco didn't even glance at one another during breakfast the next morning, but when Severus saw Draco leave the Great Hall barely a moment after Potter did, he got up to follow.

Draco took a shortcut and ended up intercepting Longbottom, who was walking somewhere behind Potter. And then, speeding up just slightly enough to seem deliberate, Draco shoved Longbottom as he walked past him.

"Watch where you're going, you clumsy oaf!" he barked when Longbottom stumbled and grabbed his shoulder. But as they made eye contact, Draco subtly tapped his pocket before he kept walking.

Longbottom only rolled his eyes and hurried up to Potter, who was waiting for him to catch up to her.

"What was that about?" asked Potter.

"Just Malfoy being a git again, I guess," Longbottom replied with a shrug. They walked a few feet before he added, "Oh, I nearly forgot. Here's that potion you asked me to get you." He pulled a small vial out of his pocket, and Severus saw that it was three-quarters full of a sunshine-yellow potion.

A nutrient potion, Severus recognized instantly. True to his word, Draco had provided one for Potter.

Thanking Longbottom, Potter accepted the vial and drank the potion without question, which meant two things.

The first was that Longbottom was indeed aware of Potter's friendship with Draco-though whether he was on friendly terms with Draco himself remained to be seen. The second was that Potter trusted Draco enough to drink a potion either brewed or obtained by him, which surely meant this wasn't the first time he'd given her a potion.

Curious to know if Potter and Longbottom would address the potion when in private, he made sure he was still disillusioned and continued to follow them, glad he didn't have a class to teach this period. And sure enough, the two students slipped into a short, abandoned corridor hidden behind a tapestry.

Severus hadn't known there even was a corridor back here. One thing he did notice though, was that there were no portraits on the wall here.

Now that he thought about it, the corridor with the large windows where Potter and Draco had met the previous night didn't have any portraits hanging either. Interesting.

"That was the nutrient potion, right?" asked Longbottom. "The vial Malfoy put in my pocket?"

"Yeah, we talked about it last night," Potter replied. "He said it'll be better for me to take the potion for a while instead of stuffing myself with food which, to be fair, never ends well for me." She laughed sardonically, but Longbottom regarded her in obvious concern.

"Was it really that bad?"

Severus frowned at the question, but Potter seemed to understand what he meant because she said, "I guess? I mean, they've been treating me like this my entire life, so I'm not the best at judging what is and isn't bad when it comes to them."

"But...isn't all of it bad?"

Potter blinked and then smiled. "You aren't wrong. It is bad-everything about the situation is bad. It's just that...well, I'm used to it. I guess I always knew it wasn't right, but I didn't know how bad it was until I came here and met people who didn't live like me. That was when I started realizing the way I live isn't normal, like I'd always thought it was. It's kind of hard to explain," she added with a grimace.

Longbottom didn't quite seem to understand, but Severus did. He knew exactly what Potter was getting at, and that realization terrified him. Why hadn't he known about this? Why hadn't anyone known about this?

Unable to remain here any longer and unwilling to get caught (Potter had already glanced his way more than once), Severus left the corridor as quickly and silently as he could, trying to understand what he'd witnessed and heard.

But as much as he thought, Severus could come to no other conclusion other than that Potter had been suffering abuse at the hands of her relatives since she'd been placed with them after the Dark Lord had killed her parents. And somehow, he'd never even caught wind of it.

How had he never noticed it? Beatings and starvation left visible signs, and yet he'd never noticed them? He'd literally been in Potter's mind when he'd taught her occlumency last year, and somehow, he hadn't seen a single memory displaying the abuse she'd supposedly gone through.

How was that possible? Potter had been a quick learner when it came to occlumency, but not perfect. He'd seen a few of her memories. But somehow, none of those memories had been about any of this. Not just the abuse but her strange friendship with Draco as well.

Severus should have been the first one to notice all of these things, but it seemed like Draco of all people had managed it first.

He needed time to observe. He needed time to think.

The sixth-year Gryffindors and Slytherins had double potions that afternoon, and Severus observed Potter and Draco surreptitiously.

They paid little attention to one another until halfway through the lesson, when Draco made a scathing comment. Potter retorted, then Draco said something else, and then Granger pulled at Potter's arm to get her to turn away from Draco, telling her to ignore him.

The interaction seemed so normal that Severus wondered whether he'd hallucinated the meeting between the two the previous night, and the conversation between Potter and Longbottom that morning. But then Draco smirked at Potter and she rolled her eyes, flashing him a quick grin before she returned to her potion.

No, he hadn't hallucinated anything. Something was going on here.

But why?

Why were Potter and Draco suddenly getting along so well? Why had they become friends? Why were they discussing such terrible things as if they were as casual as talking about what to have for dinner?

And why had he never noticed any of this?

Everything was getting worse. The Dark Lord was demanding more from him, but Dumbledore was no better. Severus still hadn't decided what to do. He knew more than ever that he didn't want to follow either of the men he had to call master, but he still knew he had no choice.

Even now, he knew Potter was safer at Dumbledore's side and so, he too had to remain there. At least until the Dark Lord was defeated. Perhaps then he would leave Hogwarts and do something else with his life.

But no, there were a few problems with that as well.

Hogwarts was his home, and though he cared little for teaching, he couldn't fathom leaving and going elsewhere. He'd spent so much of his life in the castle. He'd suffered plenty while at Hogwarts, but it was also the only place he'd ever felt true joy, even though that joy was rare.

He doubted the Dark Lord could be defeated either. Not because he thought highly of him or anything like that. To him, the Dark Lord had always felt...untouchable, in a way. He'd even considered the possibility of him being immortal once or twice. He couldn't imagine how else he'd survived being hit with his own killing curse.

Yes, he did have to stay on Dumbledore's side. Potter was unlikely to leave either, so what choice did he have?

Dumbledore was giving Potter private lessons. Severus didn't know what the lessons were about-Dumbledore hadn't told him, only informing him that if he happened to assign Potter a detention on the same day as one of these lessons, the lesson would always trump the detention. Severus knew he had no leg to stand on in arguing, so he only agreed.

Hopefully, this meant Dumbledore was finally teaching Potter some advanced magic. The spells she was learning in her classes were going to be of little help against the Dark Lord.

What spells would he teach her though? Severus knew many advanced spells himself, but he doubted Potter was strong or skilled enough to cast any of them just yet. It would take a fair bit of training, certainly more than she would get during one lesson every month.

And if Potter was being taught magic, why was no one else involved in the process? Dumbledore knew many spells, yes, but not every spell. And if he only had time to teach her once a month, why not get other Order members involved as well? They could rotate her lessons with everyone focusing on something else. Potter would learn more that way.

Yes, while Severus was pleased Potter was finally going to learn something helpful, he was still questioning the logistics of the entire matter.

Chapter Text

Little changed as the months passed. With Halloween came another mass breakout from Azkaban, but Christmas two months later was blessedly quiet. Severus was glad for the peace, but at the same time, something about it felt unsettling.

The new term after Christmas break began just as quietly, and at times, Severus thought things could almost be described as normal. As if there was no war brewing. As if there was no Dark Lord. As if Dumbledore wasn't plotting away in his round office.

Severus felt as if he had every right to be paranoid. The life he'd lived thus far was proof enough in his opinion, and as he'd expected, he was quickly proven to be correct once again.

Something was happening. Something he'd never thought to suspect.

He knew there was something wrong as soon as their eyes met. Potter held his gaze and clearly very deliberately, took a big pinch of crushed moonstone and added it to her cauldron.

Moonstone, crushed or otherwise, wasn't necessary for the potion he had the class brewing today, but it was an ingredient that could easily ruin today's potion in a dramatic but ultimately harmless reaction that was sure to draw everyone's attention, including his own.

And it did.

As soon as the powder touched the surface of the liquid, it began to bubble and foam in a vivid red. That foam began to expand, then rose and spilled over the cauldron's edge and onto the workbench. A workbench that conveniently had nothing else near the cauldron that could cause a secondary (and possibly more dangerous) reaction.

Severus was no fool. It was obvious Potter was trying to get his attention without drawing suspicion on herself. Even Potter wasn't stupid enough to make such a foolish mistake. This was on purpose.

He was sure of it.

He called her out, annoyed, berated her for the idiotic mistake, and assigned her detention. Potter met his gaze, expression defiant as she muttered an irritated sounding, "Yes, sir," but considering her earlier actions, he knew this was nothing but an act.

She wanted him to assign her detention. The only question was why.

Severus returned to his office immediately after dinner that evening and heard a knock on the door at exactly eight on the dot. He knew it was Potter-he'd been sure not to hand out any other detentions for the day, so he allowed her in.

From his desk, he watched her walk in, shoulders slumped and expression annoyed as she called out a "See you later!" over her shoulder to Weasley or Granger, no doubt.

Still acting, it seemed.

He stood and, without a word, led her into his private quarters. Whatever Potter wanted, she needed secrecy. If she didn't, she wouldn't have bothered with making a mistake that would cause him to assign her detention. She could easily have just approached him.

No, there was something else at play, and his rooms had far more privacy than his classroom or office. His own privacy spells were cast throughout his quarters, after all.

The door shut behind Potter and as soon as the lock engaged with a soft snick, she stood up straight, the expression on her face something Severus wasn't quite able to decipher, though it was a far cry from the annoyance that had been there just a moment ago.

"We need to talk," she said, her voice as firm as her gaze.

This was an odd situation, Severus thought. As far as Potter was aware, there was little love lost between them, so it was strange she was coming to him no matter what reason.

He doubted it was because he was an Order member. She was close enough to Dumbledore to approach him at any time with anything she might have to say, and McGonagall was her Head of House as well as an Order member. Both of them were better options than him. And yet, here she was. He resisted the urge to rub his soulmark.

His soulmark. Their soulmark.

His breath nearly stopped. Had she realized the truth? Had she realized he was her soulmate? Was she here to discuss that? To call him out? To mock him? But...no. Her expression seemed too serious. There was no anger or disgust on her face. Or so he told himself to believe.

He didn't suspect any foul play on her part, malicious or not. So, because of that, he inclined his head. Potter relaxed visibly at that. He assumed she'd been worried he would refuse to hear her out, but he didn't mention it. He couldn't blame her for it either.

"Do you know what a Horcrux is?"

The question caught him off guard. That was not something he'd ever expected Potter of all people to bring up. "I do," said Severus. "I am not incredibly familiar with them, but I am aware of what they are."

But how did she know about them? Horcruxes weren't the most well-known artifacts out there, and with how incredibly dark they were…

Potter nodded. "But you know what it entails, right? How it splits a person's soul in half?"

"Yes," he said, "and the split half seals itself into a container of the creator's choice, turning said container into a Horcrux and thus rendering the creator immortal until the second soul piece is destroyed."

"Right," said Potter. "Voldemort's made multiple Horcruxes."

Severus flinched at the name, an involuntary reaction he'd always wished he knew how to control, but the words themselves didn't shock him. He'd always suspected the Dark Lord had done something to gain immortality, and creating a Horcrux was the only thing he could think of that would do that. But there was one thing here that surprised him a little. "Multiple?"

"Seven."

Now that caught him off-guard. "He has created seven Horcruxes?"

"Yeah," said Potter. "It seems like, at the worst of it, his soul was split into eight pieces, including the bit still inside his body."

Severus' brow furrowed slightly. "At the worst...? Then it has changed now? There are fewer?"

"Two less," said Potter. "Do you know how the Chamber of Secrets was opened in my second year?"

It was such a random question that didn't seem to have anything to do with the topic at hand, that it took Severus a second to process it before he said he didn't. Potter didn't seem surprised.

"Figured you didn't," she said casually. "It was this diary that Voldemort had when he was sixteen," she told him, either not noticing or choosing to ignore his flinch at the Dark Lord's chosen name. "Lucius Malfoy slipped it into Ginny's cauldron when we were shopping for school supplies, and she used it as a diary, assuming her parents bought it for her.

"There was a memory of V-of Riddle in there that wrote back to her, and basically stole her life energy from her over the year. Once strong enough, he started possessing her, and had her open the Chamber and set the basilisk loose in the castle."

No, this was definitely news to him. Dumbledore had never bothered telling him any of this, and it looked like Potter had already expected that.

"When I was down in the Chamber," said Potter, "after I killed the basilisk, I used one of its fangs and stabbed the diary. I don't know why I did it, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, but I'm sure you know where I'm going with this."

He did. "That diary was a Horcrux."

"It was," said Potter with a nod. "And it was destroyed then. That reduced the number of Horcruxes Riddle has down to six, and his soul into seven pieces, again, including the one in his body."

"You said two were destroyed?"

"I did. The second was a ring Dumbledore found over the summer. Like the diary, it's also been destroyed, except it was Dumbledore who did it this time."

Which brought the Dark Lord's Horcruxes down to five, and his soul pieces to six. "And the rest?"

"That's what Dumbledore and I have been trying to figure out all year."

Ah, so this was what those private lessons were about, then. He'd been wondering about them this whole time. He'd thought Dumbledore was teaching the girl advanced magic to give her a better chance at defeating the Dark Lord, but instead, it was Horcruxes. Salazar.

"Dumbledore says the rest of the Horcruxes are Slytherin's locket, Ravenclaw's diadem, Hufflepuff's cup, and Nagini." Potter's lips twitched. "Seems Riddle was a very busy boy."

She was calling him Riddle now, Severus noticed. Perhaps she had noticed his discomfort. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. Instead, he said, "Indeed." He thought, then added, "Nagini is, of course, with the Dark Lord himself, but as for the rest..."

Potter nodded. "Hard to say for sure, and Dumbledore doesn't seem to know. Or at least, he hasn't told me if he does. He thinks the locket is in some cave somewhere that Riddle once went to as a child, and he's still trying to confirm that, but that's the only one he's ever mentioned a location for."

Though she didn't say it, Severus could practically hear a 'but' in there. "Yes?"

"My friends and I have been talking," said Potter, "and we think we've narrowed down where the other Horcruxes might be. We think the locket is in Grimmauld Place instead of this cave, for one.

"As for the other two, we expect at least one of them to be hidden here in the castle, and the other to be in the Gringotts vault of one of Voldemort's more trusted Death Eaters-probably Bellatrix. And Dumbledore's plan, and I suppose mine as well, is to find every Horcrux and destroy them, just like the diary and the ring."

Well, this was interesting news. Severus wanted to know how they had managed to figure this out and why she hadn't told Dumbledore any of this, because he was sure she hadn't. But then another thought hit him.

One Horcrux was missing.

The diary, the ring, the locket, the diadem, the cup, Nagini... That was only six. "And the seventh Horcrux? What of that?" he asked.

For the first time since she'd entered his rooms, Potter hesitated. "The seventh is... Well, Dumbledore didn't tell me about the seventh. He's only mentioned six to me and said Voldemort split his soul six times and into seven pieces. Something about seven being the most powerful magical number or something like that. But...I know there's one more."

"And how would you know when the Headmaster does not know of it himself?" Severus asked skeptically.

Potter cocked her head slightly. "I never said he doesn't know about it, just that he hasn't told me. I'm sure he has his reasons, he always does, and while I usually go along with them, that isn't something I can easily do this time."

"Why not? As you just said, that has never stopped you before. What makes this different?" Severus was curious, so curious about the expressions that were passing over Potter's face. One after another, they zipped by, going by so quickly that he barely had the time to identify them. But her expression finally settled on determination.

"It's different because...because I'm the seventh Horcrux."

Severus' first instinct was to deny the words. It wasn't possible. It shouldn't have been possible, and yet... His eyes automatically travelled up to the scar on her forehead that was hidden underneath her fringe.

"The killing curse doesn't leave a mark," said Potter quietly, noticing where his gaze lay. "It never has. Not on anyone at all. Except me. And we're connected, me and Riddle. I can feel his emotions, and he can see into my mind. I can see into Nagini's mind when Riddle possesses her too. That's not normal, and we both know that. I'm a Parselmouth as well, even though Riddle was the last descendant of Salazar Slytherin. That's not right either. I'm a Horcrux. I have to be.

"The night he tried to kill me, half of what was left of his already multiple times split soul broke off and attached itself to me. I've been carrying a bit of Riddle's soul inside me for all these years. Doesn't that make the most sense?"

It was insane, unfathomable, but he knew she was right. She was. She had to be. It made sense. Just as she'd said. It was the only thing that made sense.

And then the realization hit him. Severus finally understood why Potter hadn't told Dumbledore what she and her friends had deduced. He finally understood why Dumbledore hadn't told her about the seventh Horcrux.

"He means to send you to your death...?" Severus didn't have to elaborate. Potter knew exactly what he meant. She looked him straight in the eyes, and he had his answer.

"I have to destroy the other four Horcruxes and then die, destroying the last remaining Horcrux, which will make Riddle mortal again and allow someone else to kill him."

Severus wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry. She was a pig for slaughter, and she knew it too. She seemed resolute right now, but he wondered how she'd reacted when she realized the truth for herself. Did she cry? Did she scream? Was she angry? Was she scared?

This was a betrayal.

He knew she'd been considering Dumbledore as a grandfather-like figure to her, even with his flaws, and yet, without revealing it to her, he'd been planning her death this entire time.

How long? How long had Dumbledore known about this? How long had he been planning this? ...How long had she known about this? "When did you realize this?" he asked her.

"A month ago."

A month... That meant late November or early December. Severus didn't think he'd noticed anything different about her during that time. There was no way this realization hadn't bothered her, and yet she was still managing to go on as if it hadn't. She was a strong girl. He'd always known that, but he'd never been able to admit it. He had no choice now.

"Why tell me this?" he asked.

"...I don't want to die."

"What does-"

"Riddle has to die," Potter interrupted. "There's no doubt about that. But I don't want to die. And as it turns out, neither can live while the other survives. Guess that prophecy wasn't complete bull after all. ...You'll help me, won't you, Snape?"

The prophecy. When had she heard it? Had Dumbledore told her? He must have. He could think of no other reason for her to know it. Had Dumbledore also told her who had informed the Dark Lord about the prophecy? He doubted it. She wouldn't be here if she knew.

Severus still wasn't sure why she'd come to him. He knew she was his soulmate but it wasn't as if she was aware of that-she would have mentioned it if she knew. He'd always been extremely careful not to let anyone see his soulmark, least of all a student, especially Potter.

But he couldn't refuse. He didn't want to either. Soulmate or not, Potter was the one Dumbledore had been planning to send to her death, but he couldn't help but feel betrayed himself. And in some ways, he had been betrayed as well.

Was it betrayal when he'd never trusted Dumbledore in the first place? Severus didn't know. "Sit down," he said.

Potter looked at him, a little surprised, but then nodded and obeyed, sitting down on the nearby couch as he moved to sit in the armchair across the table from her.

"Do you have confirmation that the other Horcruxes are where you believe they are?"

"The locket is definitely in Grimmauld Place," said Potter. "I not only saw it but touched it as well. We found it when we were cleaning the place out, and since no one could open it, we tossed it with the rest of the rubbish Mrs Weasley wanted to throw out."

"Then-?"

"Kreacher managed to sneak it away like he did a few other things. I contacted Sirius and had him ask Kreacher about it and he confirmed he still has it. He can't lie to Sirius either, so I believe him."

"If the locket is in London, why does the Headmaster believe it to be in a cave?"

"I have no idea," said Potter with a shrug. "Like pretty much everything else, he hasn't told me."

She was beginning to sound rather bitter, Severus noted. "And the other two?"

"Suspicions more than anything else. Riddle left the diary in the Malfoy vault, so it seems possible he left another in some other Death Eater's vault. It's not going to be Malfoy again, and if it's not yours, then it has to be Bellatrix's. And considering how much he loved Hogwarts, leaving one hidden here only seems obvious. Who'd ever think to look here for something like that?"

Fair enough. The suspicions weren't bad, honestly. Severus could see quite a bit of sense in them. So really, what they had to do first was get those three Horcruxes and destroy them. After that, they had to deal with the two living Horcruxes. Both were going to prove difficult to destroy in their own ways.

"I am not this familiar with Horcruxes," Severus admitted. "How can one be destroyed?" How odd was it that he was asking Potter this?

"I only know about three things," she said. "Basilisk venom, fiendfyre, and goblin-made weapons."

Severus nodded slowly, thinking. "I own no goblin-made weapons, and you are unable to access the Potter vaults until your next birthday, though I can't say whether there will be any there either. Fiendfyre is too dangerous, and as for basilisk venom..."

"We can use the fangs from the basilisk that's dead in the Chamber of Secrets. Looks like there's some kind of stasis or preservation charm or something on the place because the body hasn't even started to rot, even though I killed it ages ago."

He was surprised at how prepared she was with the answer, then remembered she'd said she and her friends had already been discussing this. If she'd found out the truth about the Horcrux within her a month ago, there was no telling how long they'd all been going over this.

One basilisk fang each for the locket, diadem, and cup, then. If the house-elf had the locket, that one was easy enough to take care of. It only had to be brought to the castle, kept as secret as possible, and taken to the Chamber of Secrets or some other equally secretive place where it could be destroyed.

It was going to be a little more difficult to find the diadem and cup, Severus figured. If Potter was right and one was in the castle and the other in Bellatrix's vault, it was hard to say which would be easier to find. He knew what both items looked like, but finding them…

"I don't know how to get the one in Gringotts yet," said Potter, breaking the tense silence that had fallen, "but I have an idea for the one here at Hogwarts."

"And that idea is?"

"Using me being a Horcrux to our advantage. I have a connection not just to Riddle, but all of his other Horcruxes. I'm curious to see if my scar, and well, the soul piece inside me, will react to the presence of another. I've been wondering if I can just use my scar and the pain I feel as a...tracking device, I guess."

"I see..." It wasn't a bad plan. As Potter had said, she and the Dark Lord were connected. She felt pain in association with the Dark Lord, so, in theory, wasn't it also possible that she could, in fact, follow that pain? If the pain got worse, couldn't that mean she was approaching a Horcrux?

Living Horcruxes were unheard of, so it was impossible to know for sure, but he knew there was little else they could do. It was certainly worth a try. At worst, it simply wouldn't work, and if it did, well, they would be one step closer to ending the Dark Lord.

But the one that was supposedly in Gringotts... Yes, that one posed another problem. Potter couldn't use her scar to track that one. Well, she could, but she would never be able to get to it if it was locked inside someone's vault. Especially if that someone was Bellatrix.

So how could they access that one? Asking Bellatrix was entirely out of the question. She was far too loyal to the Dark Lord for that. She would sooner die than betray him, and Severus was well aware of it.

Now that he was thinking about it, perhaps there was an easier way to get into Bellatrix's vault. But it all depended on whether the vault was a Lestrange vault, or simply Bellatrix's. He had an idea if it was the latter.

"Does Draco know about all of this?" he asked abruptly.

Potter blinked slowly, expression unchanged. "Why would Malfoy know anything?"

Strange. For whatever reason, she trusted him enough to come to him with this information and ask for his help, but not enough to tell him she and Draco were friends. He gauged her expression closely.

"I am aware of the…friendship between you and Draco," he said. "I overheard your conversation on the night of the first of September. I also witnessed him slip a potion into Longbottom's pocket, which he in turn gave to you, acting as if he was the one who had obtained it."

Something on Potter's face flickered. It was so slight he barely saw it, but it was enough to confirm what he knew was true. He hadn't imagined this odd new friendship between the two. There truly was something there.

"I see," she said after a beat. "Well, yes, Draco does know about the Horcruxes. Why do you ask?"

Severus had been expecting anger, not instant acceptance. "If the Horxrux is in Bellatrix's vault, there is a chance Draco may be able to enter it. However, it depends on whether the vault initially belonged to Bellatrix Black. If it did, as another carrying Black blood, he may be able to enter. If she obtained the vault after her marriage, then Draco, of course, will not be able to enter."

"Right," said Potter slowly. She frowned. "That makes sense. We hadn't thought of that." She tapped a finger on her thigh, along the hem of her skirt. "I don't think leaving the castle will be very easy either. Doesn't Dumbledore know when people come and go?"

"He does."

"Figured. In that case, I think it'll be better to find the one we're guessing is here in the castle first," said Potter. "We don't know if Dumbledore has any spells up that'll tell him we found or destroyed it, so that's probably the safest one to start with. If things go well there, we can get the one from Grimmauld, and then the one we're guessing is at Gringotts. And if all of that goes well, we can think about what to do about Nagini and…"

"Yourself."

"Yeah."

Severus nodded. "We will meet again," he said, "with your friends next time, and come up with a plan." But what that plan could be, he wasn't sure yet. He sighed tiredly. He was already exhausted.

Chapter Text

Severus entered the Room of Requirement at ten at night two days later. The very existence of the room surprised him, but he was more focused on the ones in the room.

Draco had led him here, but Potter, Weasley, and Granger were already seated in comfortable-looking red armchairs. Two more appeared when Severus and Draco entered, these green, all five seats set in a circle around a dark wooden table.

"I can't believe this," Weasley muttered, and Granger swatted at his arm.

"Play nice, Ron," she hissed.

Weasley rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Have a seat," said Potter amiably.

Severus and Draco both sat, and after a bit of an awkward pause which Severus suspected was due to his presence, Potter herself spoke first.

"So, like I said earlier, Snape now knows about the Horcruxes, and we've decided we should start with trying to find the one we're guessing is hidden here in the castle. If we can find and destroy that one without Dumbledore finding out, we can try to get the one Kreacher stole next."

"Any idea where to start?" asked Weasley, leaning back in his seat as he shot Severus a cautious glance.

Potter sighed. "Nope."

"What about the Chamber of Secrets?" said Draco. "The Dark Lord's likely spent plenty of time in there. Isn't it possible he left it there somewhere?"

"I did check the Chamber already," said Potter, "or whatever bits of the Chamber I could get to, but my scar never reacted. I'm thinking there might be hidden rooms or something down there, but I don't know the right spells to reveal them, and Parseltongue didn't help either."

"Well, Professor Snape could help with that, right?" said Granger. She looked at him. "I expect you know more advanced revealing spells than us, and maybe even dark-aligned ones? According to Violet, as a student, Riddle was already very familiar with dark magic."

Severus nodded slowly, already thinking. "It will be difficult to say anything until I examine the place myself, but it would be unsurprising if dark magic is involved." Though he said that, he still wasn't entirely sure about his presence in the room. His inclusion here was strange.

Why exactly was he here? Why did they (to varying degrees) trust him? Draco was one thing, of course, but there was no reason for Potter, Weasley, and Granger to trust him. He'd done nothing to endear himself to them and was well aware of it.

"If you're going to go into the Chamber of Secrets anyway," said Draco, "can you destroy the Horcrux there too if you find it?"

Potter nodded. "Yeah, the basilisk's body is still there."

"Why not just do it now?" said Weasley. "Going to the Chamber, I mean. We're already gathered here. You and Snape can just head on over, check things out, and come back when you're done and let us know what happened."

Potter scratched her chin. "I don't mind either way. Are you busy now, Professor?"

He was, but he supposed his potions didn't matter much right now. He certainly wasn't about to let Potter go down there alone. "No," he replied.

"Perfect." Potter got to her feet, and Severus followed suit. "We'll be back in a bit, then," said Potter, leading the way out of the room.

"Be careful!" Granger called.

"I'll be as careful as I always am," said Potter reassuringly from over her shoulder.

"You're never careful!"

Potter laughed, and Severus followed her out of the room in silence, once again wondering what he had done to warrant some measure of trust from Potter and her friends. They were even bantering around him without a care!

He didn't understand any of this.

Severus was rather surprised when Potter took him into the girl's bathroom on the first floor instead of leading him to the Chamber of Secrets. This was a little disturbing. The ghost crying in one of the stalls only made it worse.

"Why in the world are we in here, Potter?" he questioned.

"Because Slytherin was either a creep who put the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets in the girl's loo, or the girl's loo just so happened to be built over the entrance," said Potter rather casually.

Severus had questions, quite a few of them, in fact, but he said nothing. The main thing he was wondering right now was, why hadn't Dumbledore ever told him this bathroom hid the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets? Surely Potter had told him after what happened in her second year.

But why was he surprised? This was just another thing to add to the already very long list of important information Dumbledore had never deigned to tell him.

Quiet and curious, he watched as Potter approached one of the sinks and hissed out a word that was said so quickly he didn't even have time to flinch. To his surprise, the sinks began to move and soon revealed a rather large hole in the floor. Had that really been hidden beneath the sinks for the past thousand years?

"This is a pipe," said Potter, "and it's connected to a bunch of other pipes throughout the castle. It's how the basilisk got around. That's why no one ever saw it when all the Muggleborns were getting attacked." She sat at the pipe's entrance, legs dangling inside. "C'mon."

She was being very casual with him, he realized suddenly. He'd never tolerated that from a student before, so why did her disrespect not irritate him? He frowned, but there was no time to inspect these thoughts. Potter slid down the pipe, and he had no choice but to follow suit.

The trip down the pipe was unpleasant. It was a long way down, long, dark, and foul-smelling. They went deeper and deeper, heading further and further underground, well below the dungeons and certainly far below the lake.

"Be careful when you land, Professor!" Potter called out suddenly. "It's a bit of a fall!"

And that was all the warning he received before the pipe came to a sudden end and he shot out of it, hitting the cold, stone floor harshly. He took a moment to catch his breath, but Potter was already on her feet, brushing herself off. He stood and reached for his wand, but Potter was again ahead of him, already lighting hers with a murmured lumos. He did the same and looked around.

The space they were in was larger than he'd been expecting, though if he considered it had to be spacious enough for a basilisk to move through, it made far more sense. The walls and floor were made of dark stone and were covered in a layer of slime. In a corner was a pile of rodent bones, and the path ahead, if it could truly even be called that, looked like a wall of crumbled stone with a hole just barely large enough for them to get through.

"A cave-in?"

"Hmm? Yeah," said Potter, aiming her wand light at it. "Lockhart tried to obliviate me and Ron, but he used Ron's broken wand for it and the spell hit the ceiling before bouncing back and hitting Lockhart. I guess some of the stone up there was loose, because the whole thing collapsed. No one got hurt, luckily, but Ron and Lockhart were stuck on this side while I was on the other side. I went on, and he tried to make a gap for me and Ginny to get back through."

Potter turned to him. "Oh, but don't worry. We came back a bit ago, this time with Hermione, and we were able to use a couple of spells to reinforce the wall, so it shouldn't collapse on us or anything." She looked at the wall and cocked her head. "Probably."

Severus decided it was better not to trust that and waved his wand in front of the wall, casting a quiet spell. Potter only huffed as he did this. Satisfied the wall was sturdy enough, he inclined his head and took a step back, allowing the girl to take the lead. He didn't want to admit it, but she knew more about this place than him. It was better this way. It would be quicker as well.

Whether she realized what he was thinking or not, Potter did indeed take the lead, and Severus followed her without a word. They made their way down the corridor, still surrounded by dark stone, until they came across a second door, though Severus had no time to get a good look at it before Potter hissed out another word and the door opened.

Potter walked in silence after that, and Severus did the same. Around them, the stones began to smooth and darken. And then they were in a chamber, and there was the basilisk, huge and dead, curled in the centre of the room. Behind it was a statue of Salazar Slytherin, but Severus' eyes were on the snake.

"I killed it with Gryffindor's sword," said Potter, no doubt noticing where his attention lay. "Stabbed it through the roof of the mouth. Got a fang in my forearm for my trouble, too. Oh, but Fawkes cried on the wound, so that's how I lived," she added before he could even think to speak.

Severus frowned. That explained why his soulmark had pained him so horribly when Potter had gone off to rescue Ginny Weasley all those years ago. He turned but saw Potter standing in front of the statue of Salazar Slytherin.

Potter spoke in Parseltongue again, and this time the phrase she said was long enough to get a flinch out of him. The statue's mouth opened, revealing a dark chasm within. She glanced back at him from over her shoulder.

"There's a corridor in here, but it leads to a dead end," she explained. "We thought there might be something hidden here, but we couldn't figure out how to reveal anything."

Severus nodded and, leaving the dead basilisk behind, approached the girl who once again led the way forward. He followed her wordlessly, looking around curiously, but as she'd said, the path led to a dead end, the stone wall ahead smooth and cool to the touch.

He tossed out a few simple spells first, ones Potter and her friends would have attempted, but of course, they revealed nothing. He tried other spells then, more advanced ones that became darker with every new spell he attempted.

Finally, they heard the sound of stone against stone, and the wall began to slide down, grinding loudly as it revealed the corridor that had been hidden behind it. Severus lit his wand again.

"You did it!" Potter exclaimed. She sounded delighted, but she didn't seem to pay that any mind and aimed her lit wand down the newly revealed corridor, squinting in the gloom.

Severus frowned. It was strange to hear her speak this way to him. He was used to anger and disdain from the Gryffindors, not…this. Now that he thought about it, had Potter ever regarded or spoken to him in anger or disdain? She'd been upset, yes, frightened, yes, intimidated, yes, but she'd never reacted poorly to him, even when he'd given her more than one reason to.

Why was that?

They stepped into the corridor, Severus taking the lead this time, as the place was just as unfamiliar to Potter now as it was to him. He led the way down the dark corridor, Potter following a few steps behind him, both of them using their wands to light the way.

They walked in silence, checking the stone walls as they passed, but found nothing until they reached the end of the corridor. It was another dead end. With Potter watching closely from under his arm, Severus repeated the spell he'd used previously, and another door appeared. This door, however, remained locked.

Potter hissed something then and, not having expected it, Severus flinched. He noticed her look at him but he ignored her and was relieved when the door swung open.

"What did you say?" he asked, unable to stop his curiosity.

Potter shrugged. "I just asked it to open. Riddle wasn't very creative with his passwords. Or maybe it was Slytherin who wasn't creative. I'm not sure who assigned the passwords." She gestured at the doorway. "Should we go in?"

Severus again led the way, Potter following a step or two behind him, and they found themselves in a study. Salazar Slytherin's personal study, by the looks of it. Severus felt a jolt in his gut. Was he really standing here right now? In a place he'd only dreamed could exist?

The room was quite large, the floor and walls made of the same smooth, dark stone as most of the chamber. The back and side walls had numerous windows displaying the current scene outside. Severus assumed they were charmed the same way the ceiling in the Great Hall was. Torches lined the walls between the windows and since it was dark outside, Severus lit these, giving them a better look at the room.

Right of the door was a large hearth, before it a sofa, two armchairs, and a table. Left of the door were two dozen bookshelves that nearly touched the ceiling, every shelf lined with books and scrolls. In the centre of the room, directly in front of the door and standing before the largest window was a desk of polished mahogany.

As Potter wandered off to the closest bookshelf, Severus approached the desk. It was messy, parchments rolled and unrolled strewn across it. There were three inkwells, one closed, the second open and dry, and the third on its side where it had left a pool of now-dry ink on one of the sheets of parchment and the desk below it. There were five quills as well, three of them with broken nibs.

Frowning, Severus picked up the closest sheet of parchment. The handwriting was unfamiliar and the script in a language he didn't understand. He looked at it carefully, trying to place the strange characters, but he couldn't recognize them. But there were numbers, he noted, measurements of some kind. Were these instructions for a potion?

He glanced at Potter and saw her going through a book. She'd put her wand away. Even as he watched, she replaced the book and pulled another one off the shelf seemingly at random. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she flipped through pages.

There was so much he had to ask her. So much they needed to discuss. How had she learned she was a Horcrux? How had she and her friends concluded what the other Horcruxes were? When had she and Draco become friends? When had they allowed Draco into their friend group? How long had she been suffering with her relatives? Had she told her friends about it or had they found out on their own? Had she ever told Dumbledore? What about Black and Lupin? Did they know?

Severus frowned and turned his attention back to the desk before Potter could notice him staring. He took up another sheet of parchment, deciding it was time to refocus. This parchment too featured the unfamiliar language, and so did the rest of the parchments on the desk.

As Potter moved to another bookshelf, Severus checked the desk itself for clues, but there were no drawers, let alone hidden compartments. Frustrated, Severus turned his attention to the bookshelves and, picking one Potter hadn't checked yet, approached that instead, hoping for better luck.

"Looks like the shelves are organized by subject," said Potter when she saw him, "and then alphabetically going by the author's name. There are books in a bunch of different languages too. I wonder who brought them all here?"

Severus examined the books on the shelf before him and quickly realized they were all related to history. Further examination confirmed Potter's words. There were books in English, of course, but he also saw numerous books in other languages, some of which he could vaguely recognize, and others which were entirely unfamiliar to him.

How many people had been down here? Slytherin couldn't possibly have collected all of these. Many of them had been published long after his death. Had the Dark Lord brought them all here?

As Potter had said, every bookshelf held books on a different topic. The one before him was history, but other shelves had books on charms, transfiguration, herbology, and astronomy, and there was another shelf filled with books on mythology and legends. There were hundreds of books, and that wasn't even to mention the countless scrolls lining other shelves.

"Hey, Snape, I found the potions shelf," said Potter suddenly.

Severus turned and saw her jerk her thumb at the bookshelf next to her. He walked over, but when he saw her face, he frowned. "Why are you grinning?"

Potter blinked and her expression turned innocent. "No reason," she said, turning her attention to a different bookshelf and leaving him alone.

Severus' eyes narrowed, but when she said nothing more, he looked at the books on the shelf instead. He found many books he was very familiar with, some he knew of but hadn't managed to get his hands on, and there were dozens of books he'd never heard of before in his life and was eager to go through.

He skimmed through a few of them and again found a few in the same strange language as the parchments on the desk. Quite a few of the books in here had been written in that tongue. He wondered what it was.

Severus didn't know how long he spent going through the potions books. It was only when he felt hunger gnawing at his stomach that he stopped to check the time. It'd gotten quite late. Much later than he'd been expecting. He sighed mournfully and replaced the book he was holding.

Potter, he noted, was at the desk now, going over some of the parchments. But as he watched her, he realized she was looking at them for much longer than she should have been, considering the writing was in a foreign language.

"What are you looking at?" he asked as he approached.

"Huh? Oh, antidote to common poisons," said Potter. "But...it looks a bit different from what I remember."

Severus hadn't seen that one. Had he missed it? "Why do you say it is different?" But when Potter answered, Severus flinched and stiffened. "Potter!"

"What?"

"You're speaking in Parseltongue."

Potter blinked. "Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't realize." She looked up at him. "Does it really bother you that much?"

He didn't answer. Hearing Parseltongue made him feel two things, and both were things he didn't want to be feeling around Potter. Fear was one of them, and the other, well, no, he didn't even want to acknowledge what the other feeling was.

Perhaps realizing he was reluctant to answer, Potter showed him the parchment she had in hand. "It's because this is written in Parselscript," she said.

"Parsel...script?" he repeated, surprised. That wasn't a term he'd heard of before.

"Yeah. Well, that's what Riddle called it, at least," said Potter. "I found a journal or something I think was his. It didn't have his name anywhere, but I recognized his handwriting. Anyway, he mentioned there being a written version of Parseltongue and he called it Parselscript. All of these are written in it," she said, gesturing at the parchment-strewn desk. "Some of those books are too," she added, nodding at the shelves on the other side of the room.

"...Did the Dark Lord write these as well?" asked Severus, indicating the parchments.

Potter shook her head. "The handwriting's different, so I don't think so." She looked up at him. "Do you want me to try to translate some of this stuff?"

"Would that be possible?" he asked, trying to mask his eagerness. Having free access to the Dark Lord's old notes and journals, and possibly even Salazar Slytherin's writings wasn't something to scoff at.

"I may as well give it a shot," said Potter with a shrug. She glanced around. "My scar hasn't reacted to anything down here yet, but that doesn't mean much. There might be more hidden rooms around. Who knows how big this place gets? And going through Riddle's old stuff might even give us a clue."

"Do what you can, then," said Severus. "Gather whatever you think may be relevant now, and I will keep them in my quarters. They'll be safer there."

Potter frowned but nodded and hurried off into the bookshelves again. "If we're keeping the stuff with you, we'll have to come up with a reason for me to head into the dungeons every now and again," she said from behind one of the shelves. "Unless you just want me sneaking down there at night."

Severus nearly jumped when he felt a strange throb pass through his soulmark. He rubbed it, frowning. That was odd. Had that happened because of him? Or was it because of Potter? Because of what she'd said? Because of the image his mind had conjured up? He shook his head, pushing those thoughts behind his shields. It was best not to focus on them. Certainly not while Potter was around.

"Remedial potions is the first thing I thought of," said Potter, fortunately unaware of Severus' thoughts, "but that probably won't make the best excuse since I did manage to make it into your NEWT class. I think I've been doing decently enough, right?"

"You failed your potion the other day."

"That was on purpose!" Potter protested. "I needed to get your attention and Hermione said that was the best way to do it."

"Which means Granger is the one who planned it," said Severus. "No doubt because you did not know how to do so safely."

"We-well... Alright, fine, just make me do remedial potions," said Potter with an indignant huff.

And that was all they required to settle things. Potter returned with a few books and scrolls, Severus hid them away, and they backtracked through the Chamber of Secrets. Once they were standing below the pipe, Potter summoned a house elf to help them get out, and in a flash, they were once more in the girl's bathroom on the first floor, the Chamber's entrance sealing itself away behind them.

"Why did you not have the house elf take us down there as well?" asked Severus.

"It's always fun to experience the pipe slide at least once," said Potter, amusement in her eyes. "We won't be doing that again though," she said quickly before Severus could speak. "Anyway, I'll tell the others what we found." And with a quick smile, she was gone.

Severus sighed. His mind was a mess of questions, but there was no time to ask any of them. It seemed he would be spending more time alone with Potter. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that, but perhaps he would be able to get some answers soon.

And ignoring another throb that pulsed through his soulmark, Severus returned to the damp darkness of the dungeons alone.